Note ;

This is not just a sex story, it is more a novelette, that contains explicit sex, so be advised, if you don't want a retentive tarradiddle, only sex, then please don't read.

All references to the Wodaabe kin are absolutely accurate.

Excuse any inaccuracies with regards to time and length, I have sailed on many sea but I am not a navigator,

... ... ....

It seemed to be forever that we had been searching for the slaveholder. In fact, for five weeks now, we had been cruising the southern islands of the Caribbean.

We had sighted them once, two ships close to the horizon, but near plenty for the salutary top man to be capable to pee out their sail rig, we knew it was them.

Their course had suggested that they were making for Guiana in South America, they were trying to run the encirclement of the Royal dark blue, that had been set up after most European country had outlawed slavery

But then, the hurricane had struck, it was one of the worst in living retentivity, and it had come upon us with so short admonition, no clock time at all to make for a safe haven, especially if you were too far from land. Any ships caught at sea were in serious trouble, especially anything small, the lonesome condom place was one of the well-sheltered harbours.

We were close to land but with no suitable harbour finale by, we had no selection but to run before the farting. This in itself has not been easy, we had only just managed to clear the tip of one island, in constant danger of the winding driving us ashore, where we would sustain foundered on the brutal tilt we could see all too clearly, just a one hundred yards off our beam.

The slavers had faced exactly the same plight, but their grade had allowed them to run to the due east of the islands, where-as, we had been forced to the west.

For three mean solar day we rode the storm, sails ripped away, spars broken like match-sticks, cragged seas battering the ship. most of the crew had never before been so frightened, even some of the older work force, who had experienced the Bay of Biscay at its bad, had looked apprehensive.

I couldn't comprehend how we had not lost a mast.

By the time it had started to ease, we barely had a sail left intact. A topsy-turvydom of hanging forget me drug and rail smashed. Even two shooter had broken adrift below, smashing everything in their path, before the Chief artilleryman and his gun crews somehow managed to fix them safely once more.

The sailmaker and his squad were now working like trojans, stitching and patching whatever was usable, in an endeavour to hand us sufficient sail so we could gain headway, to once More set a course.

The number one Mate reported to the Captain, that although the ship had sprung at least two board below the water level, for the moment the pumps were coping well enough at keeping the water in the bilges at a safe level. But, he pointed out we could only pull off a few days of pumping before we ran out of men fit decent to man the pumps. Quite a phone number were carrying wound, such as a go arm or a badly turned ankle joint, the medico had been kept busy.

We needed to realise a landfall where the ship could be careened, to allow fixing to be carried out, re-caulking the sprung planking.

The slavers had disappeared, they could be anywhere by now if they had survived the storm that is. pass the opinion, of the plight of those poor souls, chained below decks, life sentence would birth been sheer the pits for them, and no fortune of natural selection should their ship have suffered any mishap. The slavers would not feature released them from their prison, they would have drowned, chained where they were.

The Captain had decided that we set a course that would take us between Granada and St. Vincent, allowing us a vague probability of sighting our prey. Failing any sighting, we would cover north to St. Lucia, a suitable place to carry out the necessary reparation we needed.

It was the bosun who suggested to the maitre d'hotel that perhaps he defecate a small detour to the east, he seemed to think an island named Mustique, where he thought there was a large bay with pee deep enough to allow a ship to approach the beach, this was to the Confederacy west of the island, he recalled the gens of Les Jolies Eaux or standardised. It was a place sea rover had often used in the past, it might be possible the slavers were there. The French were more lean to sprain a blind eye, as long as there was no trouble.

If we could overtake them in the bay, and as long as the fart were in our favour, they could be trapped.

One day later, came the call,"Land ho, four decimal point to larboard."( interface position today ).

"What sail ?"the Captain hollered.

The lookout station reported seeing nothing.

The maitre d'hotel, was at the chart table, to the first off Officer he ordered,"Alter line to remove us east, we'll clear the bay to the south and ground the other side of the nearest headland. If they're there, they won't see our sail."

The anchor was dropped in only eight fthm of piddle. The long boat was ordered out and duly settled in the body of water alongside. The First Lieutenant led a political party of five sailors, six marines, plus one Midshipman.

They were to land at the head of the small bay, from there trek to the top of the headland, where, if the slavers were there, they would see them below. He would raise a green flag if they were, red if there was nothing.

Three hour later, the observation post called,"cat valium flag, just below the head, sir."

The prospicient sauceboat was sent the recall signal. The leatherneck under the instruction of the Middie remained ashore, as the boat pulled hard, back to the ship.

The slavers were there, one at anchor, the other careened on the beach, an slow fair game it would seem.

Two sauceboat took another xiv marines and a handful of old salt ashore.

The Captain's plan was for the marines and a smattering of skimmer to wait until midnight before crossing the headland, to film up a position in the scrub and trees overlooking the beach.

At sunup, we would sail across the rima oris of the bay. The ship would fire a word of advice shot, to lay close on the drop anchor watercraft. At the Lapp time, the devil dog would open fire at any crew that was visible.

At the allotted time, we cleared the headland,"Fire when ready,"came the edict, the Chief gunner laid his aim, then touched his burning taper to the firing yap. A swarm of green goddess, momentarily hid the slave owner from panorama, as the explosion died away the auditory sensation of musket ardour, from the shipboard soldier could be clearly heard.

It was all over, within minutes the slave trader had hauled their people of colour, we tacked about, then sailed in, the with child bow pursuer aimed at the slaver, just in typeface of any trickery.

The sea captain turned to me,"return a boarding political party Lieutenant, two gravy boat I think will do, and secure that slaver."

The First Officer was to lead another party ashore to take the beached slaver, supported by the marines and sailors already ashore.

It was only a short-circuit pull to get us alongside the slave dealer, one gravy holder either side and then we boarded, cook for a combat. The crew had, however, had already discarded their weapons and offered no underground, they were leader-less, all of their officers being ashore.

"Uncover the hatches,"I ordered. The stench that came from below was horrendous as the covers came away, we could pick up the wailing that came from within.

"bo's'n, send two of the slaver down, have them give up the hard worker and fetch them up on deck."

"forgiveness my saying sir, they might not get out alive, once they go down there."

"That's their problem, besides it would wait on them right."

A shout came from the headwaiter's companionway."Sir, I think you needs be seein'this."He led the way to the Captains cabin.

"You needs be careful sir, she has a knife."

"What are you talking about man ?"I stepped through the doorway.

Just in time, I saw the blade flying at me, I ducked and heard the thumping as it buried into the door flesh, in from my head. She was like a wild animal spitting at me, as she searched for something else to throw.

I saw that a chain was attached to the shackle fastened around her ankle joint, she could only prompt in a small arc, perhaps three infantry or so.

I stared at her with shock, I could see that she was terrified, but also very brave and life-threatening. She wasn't cowed as slave usually are after calendar month at sea, she was a paladin. She did not look like the typical Negroid African.

She was very improbable, her hair was long and it crested in a wave above her frontal bone, her breasts were high and stood out firmly in front end of her. I even noticed the brilliant ashen of her perfectly formed tooth. The only blemish, if you can shout out it that, were the design scarred across her face and above her tit, they were, I thought, actually quite attractive.

She was like no African I had ever seen before if indeed that's what she was.

My persuasion came back to reality, as a big plate narrowly missed me. There was now though nothing else within her compass that she could drop. Her eyes cast desperately about, I could see she was on the verge of weeping, she shrank back from me, as I took a measure forward.

I placed my shooting iron and sword on the table, well out of her orbit. I held out my script, palms up, and void."It's okeh, I mean you no damage,"I spoke quietly and in a gentle voice, although I doubted she understood a word of it.

She was now backed against the cot she was chained to, she fell backwards, then scuttled to the bulkhead and cringed from me in the corner.

I saw a pitcher of pee on the table, so I poured a cup, and held it out to her. She looked at me, center astray and scared. I slowly moved a step closer, she tried to wither yet further from me, I offered the cup closer, her middle darted from the cup to my expression, then back again, but she didn't reach out.

I lowered myself to kneel, still holding the cup to her and I continued speaking softly. Her hand lifted slightly but no Thomas More, so I leaned and set the cup on the cot in front of her, then I rose and stepped back.

I called out of the cabin,"Fetch the bo's'n for me."I instructed him to place a guard on the cabin, on nuisance of death, if he let anyone enter.

On deck once more, I sent a gravy holder ashore with pedagogy to bring the slaveholder maitre d' back.

I pushed the Captain ahead of me, into his cabin, the girl shrieked and cowered down, but I shoved him roughly into the chairperson at his mesa."Tie him up,"I ordered.

"You speak side ?"I demanded. He affirmed, with a trivial bow of his head."Who is she, and where's she from ?"

"Senor, I do not know her name, she is from North Africa, the desert regions far inland from the coast, I believe that her hoi polloi are called the Wodaabe or possibly the Fulani.

Later I would hear from our MD, that the Wodaabe were a nomadic tribe bread and butter along the southerly boundary of the Sahara, they were not Negroid, some thought they originated century ago from Egypt. Their language is entirely unique to them, cipher similar is spoken anywhere in the then known Africa.

"springiness me the key to her chains."I snapped at him.

"Senor, take concern, she is very dangerous."But he indicated a draw.

"Take him away, put him with the rest, I've no care to set middle on him again."

I retrieved the key, I turned and showed it to her. I called the sentry and indicated for him to hold my side arm and sword outside. Then, I approached the cot, with the key held out, I still thought that she might try and run the minute she was free.

It was when I got closer, that I saw the wale on her arms and articulatio humeri, tempestuous brand showed the beating she had been given. I rose to fetch a bowl and cloth, I dipped the fabric in cold water, then offered it towards her arm.

She stared at me as I reached out and laid the cloth on her injuries, I saw her flinch but she remained totally dumb, gently I bathed her arm, and then the other. I went to put the cloth to her shoulder, but again she cringed away, I lay the cloth on her script and pointed, she remained still for an age, then put it to her shoulder.

I was surprised when she passed it back to me. I dipped it in the pipe bowl, then indicated for her to grow, she didn't appear to get my meaning, so I pointed at my back and then at her.

Again she stared, but then, slowly she turned her back to me. I was horrified at what I saw, these weren't just welts, some were open cuts right across her back. She must have been in terrible pain.

As gently as was potential, I bathed her back, this time she didn't flinch, not in the slightest. I tapped her arm, and she turned back to face me. There was a flavour of wonder on her face.

I took the key from my pocket, and held it up, I pointed at her mortise joint, then tried to point a calming motion with my hands. She seemed to sympathise because she gave me a minor nod. I unlocked her restraint and waited for her to run, but instead, she sat and rubbed at her egotistical ankle.

I reached for her handwriting and pointed to the chairperson at the table. She took my manus, still watching me intently, as I led her to the chair.

fashioning sure the sentry go was at the door first, I then went over to the pall that shielded the Captain's pantry. I found only biscuits, staff of life and some cold cheese, I piled some on a plate and took them back to her. She took some lucre and ate, I watched as she sniffed at the cheese, she seemed fulfill and took a little bite.

For the beginning meter, a small grin touched her aspect, as she commenced to eat all the cheese. I fetched the cup of water supply to her, she drank again, thirstily.

I found one of the Captains silk shirts and held it to her, but she looked mystify. I lifted her arm and guided it to the sleeve, then pointed to her other arm, this fourth dimension she put her arm though herself, I laid the collar gently over her shoulders

She stood and looked into the mirror and studied her mirror image, I pointed to my own shirt, showing her how it was tucked into my breeches. Without hesitation, she lifted the shirt and tucked it into the skirt she was wearing.

Her breasts though were still showing at the front, I indicated the push button but she just frowned. Carefully I reached, she made no attempt to terminate me as I fastened two buttons, then she pushed my script away and fastened the remainder herself.

I pointed upwards to above deck, and turned to the door, her handwriting took my arm and stopped me, I turned to look, she gazed at me, then her hand came up, her fingerbreadth touched my nerve, then she spoke, I have no thought what she was saying, but I was reassured.

She indicated the room access, so I led the way back up and into the sunshine. I watched her as she took in everything around us.

The freed slaves now in the opened, sitting in the ship's bows, with fresh piddle to drink and salt water supply to bathe. None were like her, not in any way.

She saw the slaver's crew, sitting under guard, she went towards them as I followed closely, she stopped in front of one of the Captain, then she spat at him and her hand shot out and slapped his face with a make noise crack, hard enough to knock him over, for a moment she stood looking down at him, then she spun around and walked away.

I led her to the side, pointed to the boat and then the shore, she nodded and took my offered mitt to be helped up and over the slope, before climbing down to the boat.

Onshore, I enquired if the physician was about, then found him in a tent set up as a temporary worker medical examination way. The daughter looked apprehensive, faced with this bearded monster of a man. But I reached for her hand, carefully pulled up a arm, showing the doctor the welts.

He tutted, then swore, but quickly reached for one of his many locoweed, before he applied a unguent, with tender maintenance for such a giant of a man. It must ingest had an immediate soothing essence, I saw her smiling, a little more the earlier.

I sat her on a stool, and unbuttoned her shirt, to ease it from her shoulders.

The doctor swore, even louder, then apologised to her, I pointed out that she hadn't understood, so it hardly mattered.

The boatswain had entered, he saw her back, I heard him curse as skimmer will.

The doctor fetched another pot, saying this would sting. I took her bridge player in mine and smiled at her. She gripped hard when the lotion entered her wound, her eyes fixed on mine, I saw one tear leave her eye, to seethe down her cheek.

"At to the lowest degree they're clean, no mansion of any infection at the moment, but I'll need to check them again tomorrow."

I pulled her to her groundwork, after replacing her shirt, she turned and touched the doc's hand, saying a few words in her strange nomenclature. Then she followed me out.

The police captain was striding across the sand towards us,"Well done Lieutenant, a nice job today."He looked at the girl,"The bosun has told me about the girl, how she was found. He seemed to consider for a consequence,"I'm putting you in command of the slave dealer you took, you're to take in the least fountainhead of the slaves and sail her to Barbados, the governor can make up one's mind on what substantially to do with them. As you seem to be the one she trusts, you'll take her with you. How soon can you accept the ship prepare to voyage ?"

"Two twenty-four hour period, at the most, should do it. What about her crew ?"

He said that they would stay here with them, as I wouldn't have a enceinte enough crew, to both sail the ship and have to celebrate safety on the slavers.

The bosun soon had the custody occupy sorting sail and spars, so I was happy to entrust him in charge.

The bo's'n had sent two men to erect a tent, just in the tree diagram line of credit, Two cots were installed, a wash basin and small bench completed the furnishing. One of the seamen lit a fire and set a pot, saucy water boiling for coffee.

The seaman passed us two steaming mugs, then saying he would fetch us nutrient once the cook had produced something to eat, he left us alone.

We had drunk our coffee bean, the girl pointed to the trees, I looked puzzled. She made a"PS"kind of dissonance, I felt stupe when I understood and must receive blushed. She smiled, then disappeared into the trees.

I realised my misunderstanding, would she run, perhaps not to be seen again. But she did riposte and then she washed.

She pointed to the cot, I nodded, she went and laid down. In hour she was asleep, laying on her face to protect her back, as I sat and studied her. She was beautiful, of that there was no uncertainty.

( Authors note ; The Wodaabe are considered to be the most attractive of any slipstream in Africa, they are not related in any way, to any Negro tribe, neither are they Arab. )

Sometime later, I gently shook her awake, her fearfulness came back, her hands raised to strike out at me, then awareness dawned on her look, she took my paw and spoke, naturally I knew not what she said.

I pointed at my chest and said"Jim."Then pointed at her, but she frowned, so I tried again, and this time she responded.

"Fulala,"She said.

I handed her a home of food, she looked at the fork, then chose the spoon to eat. As soon as she had finished, she returned to the cot, she was clearly exhausted.

I sat and smoked my pipe, a glass of wine in my hand.

shadow had fallen when I checked her, she still slept soundly, a more peaceful look to her face.

I turned the lamp down low, just enough to leave a glow, should she come alive. Then I lay down, it had been a long and intemperate day, in seconds I was asleep.

I woke in darkness, the lamp had burned out, I wondered what had woken me. An arm was laying across my chest, I felt her physical structure aboard mine. I smiled to myself in the darkness and went back to sleep.

The early morning light struck my nerve, I jumped awake, then rose and splashed my aspect. There was no sign of Fulala, but I smelled umber brewing. The collapsible shelter flap raised gamey, she came in and handed me a cup,"Jim"she said.

A commotion erupted somewhere along the beach, I snatched up my side arm, rushing from the tent. A crowd was gathering just along the tree wrinkle. When I had pushed my way through I saw the slaver maitre d' swinging from a circle tied to a subdivision above.

My bo's'n came over,"Looks like he ‘ ung ‘ iself !"he said with a Brobdingnagian grin.

I frowned at him, wondering how the now dead sea captain would have been capable to get past the lookout man and then swim to set ashore before hanging himself. It didn't seem at all likely.

Back at my tent, I indicated to Fulala that I needed to go out to the ship, pointing for her to remain here, she shook her head vehemently, she uttered a bowed stringed instrument of unusual password, then stormed off towards the boat.

On table she followed me everywhere, she would never lead my side, I had a perm shadow. I even saw some of my crew, slyly nudge and nictation at each other. But she would not go near any of them, she would hide behind me should one approach for instructions.

That evening I sat for a while, once more with my pipe, Fulala came and sat close, she leaned her shoulder to mine, her hand resting on my knee.

My tobacco pipe empty, she stood and took my handwriting, then led me inside. She picked up the pot of salve provided by the doctor and passed it to me. Facing away from me, she removed her shirt, then stood to wait.

Carefully I applied it to her back, I could see it had much improved, thanks to the doc. Gently I rubbed some into the wale across her shoulders, then her hand came up to cover mine, she held it still for a mo, then she was pulling my hand down to her titty, she held it to her, once more just holding it still, then she began to move my paw, around her breasts, she pushed my digit to a mammilla, squeezing them around it, I could finger it temper under my touch.

She turned to front me, speaking softly, it seemed to be a chant of some kind. Her digit went to the button of my shirt, to unwrap them one by one. She pushed it off of my shoulder letting it fell to the ground. Her hands came to my chest, her fingers exploring as she appeared to be examining my white skin.

She undid and dropped my breeches, then fetching the bowlful, she washed me. She smiled when she lowered my pants, then washed me there as well.

After pushing me to the cot, I lay down and watched her as she also washed. When she was done, she came and stood by the cot, looking down at me. I held my script to her, she took it in hers, raised it to her back talk, and she kissed my fingers. Then she lay beside me, doing nothing else, except look into my face, she was waiting for me to micturate the first off move.

Once Sir Thomas More I took time lag of her titty, to look up to their resolve and the now very hard mamilla. I was indeed captivated by their beauty. Her heart never left mine, the gaze was purport in its scrutiny.

Then she was whispering to me in her own speech, how I wished I understood.

I moved my lips towards her, she came to meet them, the kiss was deep and lingering, her large lips were a delight to sense. I pushed my tongue between her back talk, she opened to meet me, her clapper exploring mine.

She flinched slightly when my hand went to her shoulder joint, I had for a moment, draw a blank her injuries. Instead, I moved my hired man to her waist and pulled her to me, I felt her push her body at me in response.

Then her hand came between us, to find my hardening member. She caressed it, now squeezing, then stroking along its distance. She teased at the tip, circling her fingers.

My hand was pulled from her waist as she raised a human knee, to push me between her legs. She was not circumcised as are many African girls, her lips were full but soft to my fingers.

( source's not ; The Wodaabe are one of only a few kinship group in Africa, that do not drill any form of circumcision. )

For a while I admired their flavour, before entering her with a fingerbreadth, I felt the warmth and a little wetness. She jerked towards my manus, as I found her clitoris, it came to sprightliness under my touch, I rubbed and caressed, and she gripped me tighter.

Her mouthpiece left mine and moved to my chest, her lingua and lips roamed over me. She kissed my teat, gently bit with her teeth. Then continuing on down, she paused to feel my hard chorded belly brawn. The mitt holding my humanness lifted it to her lips, her clapper came out and tasted me. Then her lips opened all-embracing, allowing her mouth to go down, engulfing me. Her read/write head rolled, moving me around inside her mouth

Now, I could experience the wetness between her wooden leg, her hips grinding into my manus as I teased.

Suddenly she rose above me, changed her body location to straddle my hips with her second joint, then to countermand herself, as she rubbed my tip along her scratch, searching for, and then finding her ingress. She slowly lowered her dead body to read me inside, down she went as I was absorbed deeper and deeper.

I felt her muscles clenching on me, then she leaned her amphetamine physical structure down to my bureau, she spoke to me, just before her brim met mine. Her pelvic arch began to prove along my length, then down again, the motion slowly becoming faster, her finger's breadth dug deep and hard into my shoulders as her ardour mounted.

She spoke again as her body began to strain, this meter I could guess at what she was telling me, I allowed the feelings surging inside of me a free reign, my shaft responded. She sat back, now just, her fingers clawing at my chest, as she bounced herself furiously.

It was my fourth dimension, I let unleash inside her, I saw her glimpse at me, she had felt me cumming, then she went rigid, only her hips flexing, driving her climax, as she also climaxed.

I was spent, completely drained, when she fell forward, her head nestled to my neck, her hands holding my weapon system. Still, she gently rocked her twat on my cock, a mild caress.

Desperately, I wanted to entertain her tight to me, but her damaged back prevented me, instead I kissed her brow. She looked up and smiled.

( author's note ; The Wodaabe have completely dissimilar panorama on sex to that of the western world, liberal sexual activity from pubescence until marriage is normal, provided it is never expressed in public purview. almost are experienced before their late stripling. )

The next day, we sailed for Barbados, heading for the capital of Bridgetown. The voyage would be deadening having to tack constantly, the winds at this time of twelvemonth, would always be against us, It would be a tiring journey with only a humble crew.

Looking at a map, you might intend it to be only a five or six Clarence Day sail but it actually took nearly two weeks.

I had a screen erected across one half of my cabin, more to squelch the chit-chat than for our own seclusion. It wouldn't pay to be too obvious. Only the bosun I imagine suspected that we shared a cot.

The ocean trip went smoothly enough, and eventually, we approached under reduced canvas, beneath the watchful eye of the defence with their Brobdingnagian canons. We fired six canon, paying our respectfulness to the regulator as we cleared the fort.

At the indicate arm, I had raised iris, requesting I might be received as soon as possible, I wanted to careen duty for the freed slaves as quickly as possible.

Two 60 minutes later, the Governor's aide had agreed to take the slaves off my hands, Fulala excepted. He assured me that they would be well and treated, suitable employment found for them as soon as they fully recovered from their ordeal.

Fulala was more of a problem. My feel for her ran oceanic abyss. It wasn't love, but I knew I had to do to a greater extent for her, I had no idea what, but knew I must try something.

Back on board once more, the bo's'n approached me,"Begin your pardon sir, might I be ‘ avin a word ? In private, so to speak, if you wouldn't be mindin ’, sir."

In my cabin, he doffed his cap at Fulala, with a little grin, She smiled back. She had by now accepted him as someone she could confide, no longer showing any fear.

"I know it rightly, not be'in my business sir, but I's taken the familiarity of speakin'with the light Captain. He tells me there be a plantation owner that employs some what was slave. He says there could be a fellow that might be able to speak with Fulala. pardon me interferin'like, I hope's I ain't done wrong."

"Bosun, you're a torpedo, here come and have a glass with me and I thank you most sincerely."

The next morning, I hired a ambush and set off overland for Saint St. John the Apostle, a journeying of some XX odd miles. I was in a desperate haste, hoping it might be admittedly that Fulala and I might at close communicate. I wanted to find out more about her.

I watched Fulala as she admired the scenery of the beautiful island. I saw her looking at the work party of pitch-dark worker we passed, sometimes a look of hope, then letdown at seeing none of her own people, I supposed.

The orchard owner was a pleasant character, he showed no disinclination in inviting us both into his habitation and offering refreshment.

No Sooner had I explained my job, and he promptly called a servant, speaking in the local cant to him, before the man nodded with a grin, and off he went.

Perhaps half an hour had passed, when the servant appeared in the doorway, another stood behind him. The proprietor spoke to him, I didn't follow what was said but I did hear Fulala's name mentioned.

The fellow came forward and spoke to her, she frowned shaking her head. He spoke again, in what was quite obviously a different language.

It was as if the sun shone from her face, she beamed at him, Bible gushed from her. The swain raised his hands, indicating for her to slow down, with an obvious effort she did.

The possessor interrupted, he said we should sit ourselves out on the veranda, take as long as you like, he told us.

A farsighted conversation ensued, whilst I sat impatiently waiting. The fellow then, in halting English, confirmed that Fulala was indeed from the Wodaabe people. The slave trader targeted their cleaning woman for their knockout, they were worth a destiny to them. He explained that Fulala wanted to state me of her gratitude for her rescue, She had come to make that all white people were not evil after all, just the slaver. Her fear was for what would become of her. Could I keep her as a handmaiden or something, just so long as she could stay with me ?

She looked crestfallen when I explained that this wouldn't be potential, as I was a dish out officer in the Royal US Navy. She took my hand, her eyes beseeching, my centre went out to her, but what could I do ?

The proprietor, his name was William Fergus, invited us to stay a few Clarence Day, if we could. He would take up not bad pleasure in showing us over the plantation. I was in no hurry to return, my Captain wouldn't arrive for at least another five days, or even more.

Fulala remained behind, she wanted to express on speaking with our translator, whilst I rode with William. The sights were indeed salient, just as William had promised, especially at the coast. I thought this was an island I could happily live on.

dorsum at the house in time for dinner, I was shocked to see Fulala approach dressed in a gorgeous and brightly coloured apparel. She said"Kanu,"pointing at the translator.

Kanu confirmed that his wife had insisted on making the lady friend decent in front of God-fearing the great unwashed. I couldn't agree more, as I looked at Fulala, she was just so beautiful.

She looked at me,"Hello, Jim,"She did a twirl, then paused to recollect,"Like ?"A pensive look on her grimace. Her discussion, albeit, just a few, were in English, Kanu had been fussy and I was delighted.

I took her hands, pulled her closer and kissed her on the cheek,"Hello Fulala, you look so lovely, yes I like."

Both she and Kanu looked extremely pleased with themselves.

Over dinner, I enquired of William, as to what measure of money I might postulate to purchase a small orchard, that is if there even were such a billet available.

The measure he mentioned, did not particularly inspire me with any authority that there was any possibility of my raising the kind of nub involved.

Later following a pleasant evening and after brandy, taken along with my pipe, we retired to our respective rooms. I lay for some sentence pondering on my future. What did I require ? Where was I going in biography ? And so on. I had been glad with my career in the dark blue, but I knew that I was in a rut. There was little chance of promotion, with no wars being fought, what with Europe in a state of uneasy cease-fire, I saw little medical prognosis of bettering myself. Maybe it was meter to interchange guidance. I was by no means fat, yes I had prize monies owed me, and the gaining control of the slavers would add to that, but was it enough ?

I saw rather than get wind my threshold unresolved, Fulala peered through the gap,"Please"she said.

In response to my nod, she closed the door behind her and ran quietly barefoot to me."Hello Jim"it didn't seem to quite fit the place, but it was nice none-the-less.

She dropped the duster she was wearing, then lifting the covers she was beside me, her injuries had improved immensely, so now she lay on her back and she pulled me to her.

My lips found hers, it was a recollective buss, before she pulled my face to her bare breasts, for me to handle them in kisses.

Her hand went straight between my stage, to lift my putz, then she massaged me, bringing life and a rapidly rising urge.

Roughly, she pushed my header down towards her thighs, whilst pulling my own towards her typeface. For a moment it was an unenviable tactical maneuver, then my lips were at her pussy and hers found me, as our soundbox now faced each other side of meat by side.

My turncock was swallowed deep in her rima oris, as my finger's breadth separated the flapping between her thigh, I could see the whiteness inside, that contrasted with her pelt. My knife delved as mysterious as it could, I wanted to taste her, I wanted to climb inside her. I licked up between her backtalk to arrive at her button, it seemed bigger to my knife than it had to my fingers, soon it hardened under the my caress.

Two fingerbreadth were now inside her, feeling her, teasing her and pleasing her. My hired man felt the wet, almost pouring from within, her thighs gripped my head, squeezing hard. I sensed my meter was coming, so I lifted my typeface away and turned my body. I lay her flavourless, with me on top of her

Her legs spread panoptic to converge me as I lowered myself into her, the wetness smoothed the way, as I sunk deep inside her vagina. She bucked her hips up to meet my thrusts, as we fucked each other.

"Jim, Jim, Jim,"was all she said, then she was moaning softly, her digit pulling my hair. Just as she always did, her body tensed, so I knew her climax was close.

Her hips thrust hard at me, we lost the pace but it didn't matter, she started to rock under me, the moan became an creature like growl. I tried to sleep with harder, but her legs wrapped me in their embrace, pulling me and holding me mystifying. I could sense her insides milking me as I came, even in my orgasm I saw the huge satisfied grinning on her fount. She pulled my face to hers,"Jim, I love."

The next day, William suggested that Fulala should stay there, while I returned to Bridgetown. He said Kanu and his wife were unforced to have her stay with them. And besides, Kanu had been trying to teach her some English.

She clung to my handwriting, even when I had mounted, rip in her eyes as she spoke in her own language."Don't concern, Fulala, I'll be back soon, you'll be ok here."She didn't understand me, but she did look a little happier, perhaps it was the gentleness with which I spoke.

The Captain's ship arrived the succeeding day, along with the other slaver. I reported on board and appraised the maitre d' of the assist the Governor's stave had given, and that the ex-slaves were being well looked after.

He frowned when told of Fulala's whereabouts, asking what on world did I think I was doing, was I being bazaar to her, allowing her to perhaps be reading something into her place that I couldn't possibly deliver.

It was at that moment, I realised what I wanted. It was the trigger I needed. I could submit my delegacy and easily get an advance against my prize money.

I went ashore to the Crown Agents bureau. He was able to advise, as to approximately what my credit currently stood at, based on the prize money inclination. Although he thought it could well be repeat that, once dues were added from later prizes.

My next call was to a plantation sales event agent, he was certain he could show me something that would satisfy my needs and more importantly, be within my budget, there were three possibilities gear up for my inspection should I so wish. I promised that I would be in touch as soon as I could.

spine at the plantation, I could see no sign of Fulala but found William on his gallery. I explained to him my thoughts, he said the factor was honest and could be trusted, within reason anyway.

He knew which were probably to be two of the properties, one quite close by, not large but viable, it would acquire an income, not sufficient to make anyone fertile, not by any means, but that with grueling work, it could prosper. He said the grove was being worked under a charter agreement but that the theatre were currently empty.

I asked if I might borrow Kanu tomorrow, for the day.

We took the maw, and half an time of day later, Kanu pointed to a somewhat overgrow drive. Turning a turning point and the house came into view, I stopped to gaze. It wasn't a huge place but it was totally charming. A lick of paint here and there, and it would be restored to life.

I pushed the doors open, the hall was orotund than I expected, the furnishings were covered with fabric, as they turned out to be in all of the rooms. It was almost gear up and waiting for an occupier.

I asked Kanu to expect in the Radclyffe Hall, Fulala and I toured the house, we took in every elbow room, soon

I found myself more excited at the medical prognosis that this could become my home. I suddenly noticed that Fulala was wearing a puzzle scowl. She pointed at me,"Jim, you ?"Then pointed to the house.

I took her hands,"Jim and Fulala."She studied my face, her own showing dissimilar emotions.

I shouted for Kanu, then told him what I wanted him to say.

"Fulala will you marry me and live on here with me ?"

She spoke to Kanu, a very serious feel on her face. Kanu laughed, whilst I looked perplexed.

Then he explained,"Wodaabe men have to paint face and look like pretty girl before they can win char to be married, it is their way."

She spoke again, and Kanu translated,"She say you are not pretty man, but big strong man. She think you do not need paint face to make her glad. She also said some former things, but it is not proper for me to say. I think you must ask her yourself when she can speak better English."

I looked from Kanu to her, she had a sly grin on her face as she ran into my arms.

"Fulala love Jim, is you love Fulala ?"Her English needed work but it was a first !

The end .