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 long tarradiddle, only sex, then please don't read.

All references to the Wodaabe kindred are absolutely accurate.

Excuse any inaccuracies with esteem 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 slavers. In fact, for five weeks now, we had been cruising the southerly islands of the Caribbean.

We had sighted them once, two ships close to the horizon, but near enough for the best top man to be able to get out their sail rig, we knew it was them.

Their course had suggested that they were making for Guiana in Confederacy America, they were trying to run the blockade of the royal naval forces, that had been set up after most European countries had outlawed slavery

But then, the hurricane had struck, it was one of the worst in living memory, and it had come upon us with so petty word of advice, no time at all to nominate for a dependable harbour, especially if you were too far from state. Any ships caught at sea were in serious bother, especially anything small, the only secure place was one of the well-sheltered harbours.

We were tightlipped to land but with no worthy harbor close by, we had no option but to run before the idle words. This in itself has not been easy, we had only just managed to exonerate the tip of one island, in constant danger of the wind driving us ashore, where we would birth foundered on the venomous rock we could see all too clearly, just a hundred yards off our beam.

The slaver had faced exactly the same predicament, but their course had allowed them to pass to the east of the islands, where-as, we had been forced to the west.

For three Day we rode the storm, canvas ripped away, spars broken like match-sticks, craggy seas battering the ship. virtually of the bunch had never before been so frightened, even some of the older hands, who had experienced the Bay of Biscay at its worst, 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 cruise left inviolate. A topsy-turvyness of hanging Mexican valium and rail smashed. Even two gun for hire had broken adrift below, smashing everything in their path, before the top dog Gunner and his gun crews somehow managed to secure them safely once more.

The sailmaker and his team were now working like trojans, stitching and patching whatever was useable, in an endeavour to hold us sufficient sail so we could gain headway, to once more set a course.

The First Ilex paraguariensis reported to the captain, that although the ship had sprung at least two planks below the waterline, for the moment the pump were coping well enough at keeping the water in the bilge water at a safe level. But, he pointed out we could only manage a few days of pumping before we ran out of men fit decent to man the heart. Quite a number were carrying injuries, such as a broken arm or a badly turned ankle, the physician had been kept busy.

We needed to make a landfall where the ship could be careened, to permit repairs 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. drop dead the thought, of the quandary of those pitiable souls, chained below deck of cards, life would have been sheer infernal region for them, and no prospect of endurance should their ship have suffered any misadventure. The slave trader would not own released them from their prison, they would take in 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 chance of sighting our prey. Failing any sighting, we would keep compass north to St. Lucia, a worthy topographic point to dribble out the requirement mending we needed.

It was the bosun who suggested to the sea captain that perhaps he make a little detour to the east, he seemed to commend an island named Mustique, where he thought there was a vauntingly bay with waters deep enough to let a ship to go up the beach, this was to the south Cicily Isabel Fairfield of the island, he recalled the figure of Les Jolies Eaux or exchangeable. It was a place plagiariser had often used in the yesteryear, it might be potential the slaveholder were there. The French were more inclined to turn a subterfuge eye, as long as there was no trouble.

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

One day later, came the outcry,"Land ho, four points to larboard."( port side today ).

"What sheet ?"the Captain hollered.

The observation post reported seeing nothing.

The chieftain, was at the chart table, to the first off officer he ordered,"Alter course to take us east, we'll clear the bay to the south and anchor the other face of the approximate headland. If they're there, they won't see our sail."

The keystone was dropped in only eight fathoms of urine. The long boat was ordered out and duly settled in the water alongside. The First Lieutenant led a party of five sailors, six marines, plus one Midshipman.

They were to bring down at the head teacher 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 recruit a light-green signal flag if they were, red if there was nothing.

Three time of day later, the lookout called,"Green pin, just below the forefront, sir."

The farsighted boat was sent the recall signal. The leatherneck under the command of the Middie remained ashore, as the gravy holder pulled hard, back to the ship.

The slavers were there, one at anchor, the other careened on the beach, an promiscuous target it would seem.

Two boats took another fourteen Marine and a smattering of tar ashore.

The Captain's architectural plan was for the Marines and a handful of crewman to wait until midnight before crossing the headland, to withdraw up a position in the bush and Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree overlooking the beach.

At sunup, we would sail across the mouth of the bay. The ship would can a monition shot, to lay close on the anchored vas. At the Lapplander time, the marine would open fire at any crew that was visible.

At the parcel out time, we cleared the headland,"flaming when ready,"came the order, the Chief gunner laid his aim, then touched his burning taper to the release hole. A cloud of smoke, momentarily hid the slaver from view, as the blowup died away the auditory sensation of musket fire, from the marines could be clearly heard.

It was all over, within hour the slaveholder had hauled their colors, we tacked about, then sailed in, the toilsome bow pursuer aimed at the slaver, just in case of any trickery.

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

The First police officer was to guide another political party ashore to take the beached slaver, supported by the marines and sailors already ashore.

It was only a short wrench to get us alongside the slaver, one boat either side of meat and then we boarded, make for a combat. The crew had, however, had already discarded their weapon and offered no electrical resistance, they were leader-less, all of their officers being ashore.

"Uncover the hatch,"I ordered. The stink that came from below was dreadful as the back came away, we could hear the wailing that came from within.

"bos'n, send two of the slave dealer down, have them loose the hard worker and fetch them up on deck."

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

"That's their job, besides it would serve them right."

A cry came from the Captain's companionway."Sir, I think you needs be seein'this."He led the way to the chieftain cabin.

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

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

Just in fourth dimension, I saw the steel flying at me, I ducked and heard the thud as it buried into the door physique, inches from my nous. She was like a furious 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, she could only travel in a small arc, perhaps three foot or so.

I stared at her with shock, I could see that she was terrified, but also very brave and unsafe. She wasn't cowed as slaves usually are after month at sea, she was a belligerent. She did not face like the distinctive Negro African.

She was very marvellous, her tomentum was long and it crested in a wave above her brow, her breasts were luxuriously and stood out firmly in social movement of her. I even noticed the brilliant blanched of her perfectly formed tooth. The exclusively mar, if you can call it that, were the pattern scarred across her fount and above her breasts, 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 thinking came back to world, as a heavy home base narrowly missed me. There was now though null else within her reach that she could throw. Her centre cast desperately about, I could see she was on the wand of tear, she shrank back from me, as I took a whole tone forward.

I placed my pistol and steel on the board, well out of her reach. I held out my hands, palms up, and evacuate."It's OK, I mean you no hurt,"I spoke quietly and in a gentle voice, although I doubted she understood a password 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 twirler of water on the table, so I poured a cup, and held it out to her. She looked at me, optic wide-eyed and frighten. I slowly moved a step closer, she tried to shrink yet further from me, I offered the cup finisher, her oculus darted from the cup to my facial expression, then back again, but she didn't grasp out.

I lowered myself to kneel, still holding the cup to her and I continued speaking softly. Her hand lifted slightly but no 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 painfulness of death, if he let anyone enter.

On deck once more, I sent a boat ashore with operating instructions to add the slaver Captain back.

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

"You speak English ?"I demanded. He affirmed, with a short bow of his forefront."Who is she, and where's she from ?"

"Senor, I do not sleep with her name, she is from North Africa, the desert neighborhood far inland from the glide, I believe that her people are called the Wodaabe or possibly the Fulani.

Later I would learn from our Doctor, that the Wodaabe were a nomadic tribe sustenance along the southern bound of the Sahara Desert, they were not Black person, some thought they originated hundred ago from Egypt. Their language is entirely singular to them, cypher similar is spoken anywhere in the then known Africa.

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

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

"issue him away, put him with the eternal rest, I've no wish to set heart on him again."

I retrieved the key, I turned and showed it to her. I called the sentry and indicated for him to take my pistol and brand outside. Then, I approached the cot, with the key held out, I still thought that she might try and run the import she was free.

It was when I got closer, that I saw the welts on her arms and articulatio humeri, angry scar showed the whacking she had been given. I rose to fetch a bowl and material, I dipped the cloth in inhuman water, then offered it towards her arm.

She stared at me as I reached out and laid the cloth on her combat injury, I saw her flinch but she remained totally unsounded, gently I bathed her arm, and then the other. I went to put the cloth to her berm, but again she cringed away, I lay the cloth on her manus 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 bowl, then indicated for her to flex, 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 cut of meat right across her back. She must have got been in terrible pain.

As gently as was possible, I bathed her back, this sentence she didn't flinch, not in the slightest. I tapped her arm, and she turned back to face me. There was a look of curiosity on her face.

I took the key from my sack, and held it up, I pointed at her ankle, then tried to indicate a calming motion with my work force. She seemed to realize because she gave me a small nod. I unlocked her restraint and waited for her to run, but instead, she sat and rubbed at her tumefy ankle.

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

qualification sure enough the guard was at the door first, I then went over to the drapery that shielded the skipper's buttery. I found only biscuits, bread and some stale cheese, I piled some on a plate and took them back to her. She took some bread and ate, I watched as she sniffed at the cheese, she seemed fulfill and took a small bite.

For the get-go sentence, a small smile touched her case, as she commenced to eat all the cheese. I fetched the cup of water to her, she drank again, thirstily.

I found one of the master silk shirts and held it to her, but she looked puzzled. I lifted her arm and guided it to the sleeve, then pointed to her former arm, this meter she put her arm though herself, I laid the catch gently over her berm

She stood and looked into the mirror and studied her musing, I pointed to my own shirt, showing her how it was tucked into my knee pants. Without hesitation, she lifted the shirt and tucked it into the bird she was wearing.

Her breasts though were still showing at the front, I indicated the release but she just frowned. Carefully I reached, she made no endeavor to block up me as I fastened two buttons, then she pushed my hand away and fastened the rest herself.

I pointed upwards to above deck, and turned to the door, her manus took my arm and stopped me, I turned to calculate, she gazed at me, then her hand came up, her fingers touched my impudence, then she spoke, I have no idea what she was saying, but I was reassured.

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

The relinquish hard worker now in the subject, sitting in the ship's bows, with fresh body of water to drink and salt weewee to bathe. None were like her, not in any way.

She saw the slave trader's work party, sitting under precaution, she went towards them as I followed closely, she stopped in front of one of the skipper, then she spat at him and her deal scene out and slapped his typeface with a reverberating crack, hard enough to criticize 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 proffer handwriting to be helped up and over the side, before climbing down to the boat.

Onshore, I enquired if the doctor was about, then found him in a tent set up as a temp health check way. The daughter looked worried, faced with this barbate monstrosity of a man. But I reached for her hand, carefully pulled up a sleeve, showing the MD the welts.

He tutted, then swore, but quickly reached for one of his many pots, before he applied a ointment, with tender upkeep for such a giant of a man. It must have had an immediate soothing result, I saw her grin, a little more the earlier.

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

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

The Bosun had entered, he saw her back, I heard him unchurch as sailors will.

The Doctor of the Church fetched another pot, saying this would sting. I took her hired man in mine and smiled at her. She gripped hard when the application entered her injury, her heart fixed on mine, I saw one teardrop leave her eye, to drift down her cheek.

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

I pulled her to her pes, after replacing her shirt, she turned and touched the doctor's script, saying a few words in her strange linguistic process. Then she followed me out.

The Captain was striding across the sand towards us,"fountainhead done Lieutenant, a nice job today."He looked at the girl,"The boatswain has told me about the female child, how she was found. He seemed to see for a moment,"I'm putting you in bid of the slave owner you took, you're to take the least fountainhead of the slave and sail her to Barbados, the governor can decide on what practiced to do with them. As you seem to be the one she trusts, you'll occupy her with you. How soon can you have the ship set to sail ?"

"Two solar day, 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 orotund enough gang, to both sail the ship and have to go along sentry duty on the slavers.

The bos'n soon had the workforce busy sorting sails and sparring, so I was happy to leave him in charge.

The bo'sun had sent two men to erected a tent, just in the tree line of products, Two crib were installed, a washables basin and minuscule bench completed the furnishings. One of the seamen lit a fire and set a pot, fresh water boiling for coffee.

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

We had drunk our chocolate, the fille pointed to the tree, I looked puzzled. She made a"postscript"kind of interference, I felt unintelligent when I understood and must have blushed. She smiled, then disappeared into the trees.

I realised my mistake, would she run, perhaps not to be seen again. But she did tax return and then she washed.

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

( generator note ; The Wodaabe are considered to be the most attractive of any race in Africa, they are not related in any way, to any Negroid kin, neither are they Arab. )

Sometime later, I gently shook her awake, her care came back, her hands raised to collide with out at me, then awareness dawned on her face, she took my hand and spoke, naturally I knew not what she said.

I pointed at my dresser 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 plateful of solid 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 vino in my hand.

wickedness had fallen when I checked her, she still slept soundly, a more peaceable flavour to her face.

I turned the lamp down low, just enough to leave a glow, should she awaken. Then I lay down, it had been a foresightful and strong day, in seconds I was asleep.

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

The too soon morning fire up struck my face, I jumped awake, then rose and splashed my face. There was no planetary house of Fulala, but I smelled coffee bean brewing. The tent flap raised higher, she came in and handed me a cup,"Jim"she said.

A commotion erupted somewhere along the beach, I snatched up my pistol, rushing from the tent. A bunch was gathering just along the tree line. When I had pushed my way through I saw the slave trader Captain swing from a Mexican valium tied to a leg above.

My Bosun came over,"flavour like he ‘ ung ‘ iself !"he said with a huge grin.

I frowned at him, wondering how the now dead Captain would get been able-bodied to get past the sentries and then float to shore up 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 persist here, she shook her head vehemently, she uttered a string of strange words, then stormed off towards the boat.

On board she followed me everywhere, she would never go forth my side, I had a lasting trace. I even saw some of my crew, slyly jog and wink at each early. 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 piece, once more with my tobacco pipe, Fulala came and sat close, she leaned her shoulder to mine, her mitt resting on my knee.

My pipe empty, she stood and took my hand, then led me inside. She picked up the pot of balm provided by the medico 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 physician. Gently I rubbed some into the wheal across her berm, then her script came up to track mine, she held it still for a moment, then she was pulling my paw down to her boob, she held it to her, once more just holding it still, then she began to move my hand, around her breasts, she pushed my finger's breadth to a nipple, squeezing them around it, I could finger it temper under my touch.

She turned to face me, speaking softly, it seemed to be a chant of some form. Her finger went to the clit of my shirt, to undo them one by one. She pushed it off of my shoulder joint letting it fell to the ground. Her workforce came to my chest, her fingers exploring as she appeared to be examining my blank skin.

She undid and dropped my breeches, then fetching the bowl, she washed me. She smiled when she lowered my trouser, 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 paw to her, she took it in hers, raised it to her lips, and she kissed my fingerbreadth. Then she lay beside me, doing zippo else, except face into my face, she was waiting for me to hit the first move.

Once Sir Thomas More I took cargo area of her boob, to admire their steadiness and the now very hard mamilla. I was indeed captivated by their beauty. Her oculus never left mine, the gaze was intent in its scrutiny.

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

I moved my sassing towards her, she came to forgather them, the kiss was abstruse and mill about, her large back talk were a delight to feel. I pushed my tongue between her lips, she opened to converge me, her lingua exploring mine.

She flinched slightly when my helping hand went to her shoulder, I had for a moment, draw a blank her combat injury. Instead, I moved my handwriting to her waist and pulled her to me, I felt her push her body at me in response.

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

My paw was pulled from her shank as she raised a knee, to labor me between her legs. She was not circumcised as are many African young lady, her lips were wide but soft to my fingers.

( Author's not ; The Wodaabe are one of only a few kin group in Africa, that do not practice any contour of January 1. )

For a spell I admired their feel, before entering her with a fingerbreadth, I felt the warmth and a little wetness. She jerked towards my hand, as I found her clitoris, it came to life under my tinge, I rubbed and caressed, and she gripped me tighter.

Her mouth left mine and moved to my dresser, her tongue and lips roamed over me. She kissed my mammilla, gently bit with her tooth. Then continuing on down, she paused to feel my hard chorded tum muscles. The script holding my manhood lifted it to her lips, her tongue came out and tasted me. Then her lips opened wide, allowing her sassing to descend, engulfing me. Her head rolled, moving me around inside her mouthpiece

Now, I could feel the wetness between her legs, her hip joint grinding into my hand as I teased.

Suddenly she rose above me, changed her body spot to straddle my hips with her second joint, then to wind herself, as she rubbed my tip along her twat, searching for, and then finding her incoming. She slowly lowered her physical structure to take me inside, down she went as I was absorbed profoundly and deeper.

I felt her muscles clenching on me, then she leaned her upper berth body down to my bureau, she spoke to me, just before her lips met mine. Her hips began to rise along my distance, then down again, the apparent motion slowly becoming faster, her fingers dug inscrutable and hard into my shoulders as her elan mounted.

She spoke again as her consistency began to tense, this time I could guess at what she was telling me, I allowed the opinion surging inside of me a complimentary reign, my dick responded. She sat back, now erect, her fingerbreadth clawing at my chest, as she bounced herself furiously.

It was my time, I let loose inside her, I saw her glance at me, she had felt me cumming, then she went set, only her hips flexing, driving her orgasm, as she also climaxed.

I was spent, completely drained, when she fell forward, her foreland nestled to my neck, her manus holding my arms. Still, she gently rocked her pussy on my cock, a soft caress.

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

( Author's annotation ; The Wodaabe have completely different views on sex to that of the westerly world, unfreeze sexual bodily function from puberty until marriage is formula, provided it is never expressed in populace view. Most are experienced before their recent teens. )

The succeeding day, we sailed for Barbados, heading for the working capital of capital of Barbados. The voyage would be boring having to tack constantly, the winds at this meter of yr, would always be against us, It would be a tiring journeying with only a small crew.

looking at at a map, you might conceive it to be only a five or six days sail but it actually took nearly two weeks.

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

The voyage went smoothly enough, and eventually, we approached under reduced canvas, beneath the watchful eye of the denial with their huge canon. We fired six canon, paying our esteem to the regulator as we cleared the fort.

At the signal arm, I had raised flags, requesting I might be received as soon as potential, I wanted to switch responsibleness for the freed slaves as quickly as possible.

Two hour later, the regulator's aide had agreed to adopt the striver off my men, Fulala excepted. He assured me that they would be well and treated, desirable use found for them as soon as they fully recovered from their ordeal.

Fulala was more than of a problem. My feelings for her ran deep. It wasn't lovemaking, but I knew I had to do to a greater extent for her, I had no musical theme what, but knew I must try something.

Back on dining table once more, the Bosun approached me,"Begin your pardon sir, might I be ‘ avin a Book ? In common soldier, so to address, if you wouldn't be mindin ’, sir."

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

"I know it rightly, not be'in my line of work sir, but I's taken the shore leave of speakin'with the lighter Captain. He tells me there be a grove owner that employs some what was slaves. He says there could be a fella that might be able to speak with Fulala. Excuse me interferin'like, I hope's I ain't done wrong."

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

The side by side daybreak, I hired a trap and set off overland for nonesuch John, a journey of some twenty odd miles. I was in a desperate rush, hoping it might be true up that Fulala and I might at finale 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 gangs of pitch blackness workers we passed, sometimes a flavor of hope, then disappointment at seeing none of her own the great unwashed, I supposed.

The woodlet owner was a pleasant grapheme, he showed no waver in inviting us both into his place and offering refreshment.

No sooner had I explained my problem, and he promptly called a servant, speaking in the topical anaesthetic patois to him, before the man nodded with a smile, and off he went.

Perhaps half an hour had passed, when the handmaiden appeared in the threshold, another stood behind him. The proprietor spoke to him, I didn't follow what was said but I did listen 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 dissimilar language.

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

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

A yearn conversation ensued, whilst I sat impatiently waiting. The familiar then, in halting English, confirmed that Fulala was indeed from the Wodaabe mass. The slaver targeted their adult female for their beauty, they were worth a fortune to them. He explained that Fulala wanted to distinguish me of her gratitude for her rescue, She had come to agnise that all white citizenry were not evil after all, just the slave trader. Her fear was for what would become of her. Could I keep her as a servant or something, just so long as she could stay with me ?

She looked crestfallen when I explained that this wouldn't be possible, as I was a serving officer in the Royal Navy. She took my helping hand, her optic beseeching, my heart went out to her, but what could I do ?

The owner, his name was William Fergus, invited us to quell a few days, if we could. He would take great delight in showing us over the Plantation. I was in no hurry to return, my maitre d' wouldn't arrive for at least another five days, or even more.

Fulala remained behind, she wanted to transport on speaking with our transcriber, whilst I rode with William. The batch were indeed spectacular, just as William had promised, especially at the seacoast. I thought this was an island I could happily live on.

binding at the house in time for dinner party, 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 married woman had insisted on making the girl decent in straw man of god-fearing people. I couldn't accord more, as I looked at Fulala, she was just so beautiful.

She looked at me,"Hello, Jim,"She did a kink, then paused to call back,"Like ?"A ruminative look on her typeface. Her words, albeit, just a few, were in English, Kanu had been meddling and I was delighted.

I took her hired hand, pulled her finisher and kissed her on the cheek,"hullo 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 ask to purchase a pocket-sized plantation, that is if there even were such a place available.

The amount he mentioned, did not particularly inspire me with any self-assurance that there was any opening of my raising the kind of core involved.

Later following a pleasant evening and after brandy, taken along with my pipe, we retired to our various rooms. I lay for some sentence pondering on my future. What did I desire ? Where was I going in life ? And so on. I had been well-chosen with my calling in the navy, but I knew that I was in a rut. There was niggling chance of publicity, with no warfare being fought, what with Europe in a nation of uneasy truce, I saw little prospect of bettering myself. Maybe it was prison term to switch commission. I was by no means rich, yes I had prize monies owed me, and the capture of the slavers would add to that, but was it enough ?

I saw rather than heard my door heart-to-heart, Fulala peered through the gap,"Please"she said.

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

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

My lips found hers, it was a farsighted buss, before she pulled my fount to her bare breasts, for me to deal them in kisses.

Her hand went straight between my legs, to rustle my cock, then she massaged me, bringing liveliness and a rapidly rising urge.

Roughly, she pushed my head down towards her second joint, whilst pulling my own towards her face. For a bit it was an inept manoeuvre, then my lips were at her pussy and hers found me, as our bodies now faced each other side by side.

My tool was swallowed mystifying in her oral fissure, as my fingerbreadth separated the fluttering between her second joint, I could see the purity inside, that contrasted with her peel. My tongue delved as deep as it could, I wanted to savour her, I wanted to go up inside her. I licked up between her sass to arrive at her clitoris, it seemed magnanimous to my clapper than it had to my fingers, soon it hardened under the my caress.

Two fingers were now inside her, feeling her, teasing her and pleasing her. My hired man felt the wet, almost pouring from within, her thigh gripped my caput, squeezing hard. I sensed my time was coming, so I lifted my face away and turned my soundbox. I lay her flat, with me on top of her

Her legs spread wide to fit 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 satisfy my thrusts, as we fucked each other.

"Jim, Jim, Jim,"was all she said, then she was moaning softly, her finger's breadth pulling my hair. Just as she always did, her soundbox tensed, so I knew her climax was close.

Her hips thrust hard at me, we lost the tempo but it didn't matter, she started to shake under me, the moan became an animal like growl. I tried to fuck harder, but her stage wrapped me in their bosom, pulling me and holding me deep. I could feel her insides milking me as I came, even in my climax I saw the huge satisfied grin on her face. She pulled my side to hers,"Jim, I love."

The succeeding day, William suggested that Fulala should bide there, while I returned to capital of Barbados. He said Kanu and his wife were willing to have her arrest with them. And besides, Kanu had been trying to learn her some English.

She clung to my hands, even when I had mounted, tears in her middle as she spoke in her own language."Don't worry, Fulala, I'll be back soon, you'll be fine here."She didn't understand me, but she did seem a little happier, perhaps it was the gentleness with which I spoke.

The skipper's ship arrived the following day, along with the early slaveholder. I reported on circuit board and appraised the master of the help the governor's staff had given, and that the ex-slaves were being well looked after.

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

It was at that moment, I realised what I wanted. It was the initiation I needed. I could release my commission and easily get an advance against my swag money.

I went ashore to the crest Agents office. He was able to apprise, as to approximately what my credit currently stood at, based on the prize money tilt. Although he thought it could well be look-alike that, once dues were added from later prizes.

My adjacent birdsong was to a plantation sales event agent, he was for sure he could point me something that would satisfy my pauperism and more importantly, be within my budget, there were three possibilities ready for my inspection should I so wishing. I promised that I would be in touch as soon as I could.

spine at the plantation, I could see no augury of Fulala but found William on his veranda. I explained to him my thoughts, he said the agent was fair and could be trusted, within reason anyway.

He knew which were likely to be two of the properties, one quite close by, not great but viable, it would produce an income, not sufficient to make anyone rich, not by any means, but that with hard piece of work, it could prosper. He said the Plantation was being worked under a lease agreement but that the household were currently empty.

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

We took the bunker, and half an hour later, Kanu pointed to a somewhat overgrown drive. Turning a quoin and the firm came into perspective, I stopped to gaze. It wasn't a immense position but it was totally charming. A lick of paint here and there, and it would be restored to life.

I pushed the doorway open, the hallway was larger than I expected, the furnishing were covered with cloths, as they turned out to be in all of the rooms. It was almost ready and waiting for an occupier.

I asked Kanu to wait in the hall, Fulala and I toured the home, we took in every room, soon

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

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

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

"Fulala will you marry me and hold up here with me ?"

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

Then he explained,"Wodaabe men have to paint font 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 happy. She also said some early thing, but it is not right 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 have intercourse Jim, is you love Fulala ?"Her side needed oeuvre but it was a get-go !

The end .