Glorious Banishment

And rough. Those providing the local service were all young and slender Dominicans—quite like the ones we had picked up in less obvious bars in Samana the night before. As far as clientele, it was obvious a ship was in—but it would have seemed more logical that it was a naval vessel than a cruise ship. The men in here off the cruise ship obviously worked more in the boiler room than the dining room. They were all bulky and big and muscle bound.

It was also obviously a no-holds-barred sort of place. One of the small Dominicans was being fucked by a big black guy on top of a table over in the corner. Three other equally big guys were standing around, watching. A lighter-skinned black guy had his dick out and was working it up, no doubt planning to be next in the Dominican’s channel.

“Ah, yes, they’re here,” Clifton said, as he steamed right into the room and up to the bar. There were three huge Slavic looking guys there just receiving their beers.

“Hello, you three,” Clifton said. “I saw the ship was in. You arrived a half hour early.”

“Jah, but we were an extra hour getting the platform in place and the tenders down,” said one in a broad, jovial voice. “The passengers were pissy about it. We enjoyed it big.”

“Speaking of enjoying it big, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. Dale. He’s off yesterday’s ship. He’ll do you for a beer.”