Note ;

This is not just a sex news report, it is more a novelette, that contains explicit sex, so be advised, if you don't want a foresighted narrative, only sex, then please don't read.

All references to the Wodaabe tribe are absolutely accurate.

excuse any inaccuracies with regards to time and distance, I have sailed on many seas but I am not a sailing master,

... ... ....

It seemed to be forever that we had been searching for the slavers. 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 adequate for the dependable top man to be able-bodied to create out their canvas rig, we knew it was them.

Their course of action had suggested that they were making for Guiana in South the States, they were trying to run the encirclement of the Royal Navy, that had been set up after well-nigh 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 niggling warning, no time at all to make for a safe haven, especially if you were too far from state. Any ships caught at sea were in serious problem, especially anything small, the solitary safe place was one of the well-sheltered harbours.

We were close to land but with no desirable harbor stopping point by, we had no choice but to run before the confidential information. This in itself has not been well-fixed, we had only just managed to solve the tip of one island, in constant peril of the wind driving us ashore, where we would accept foundered on the venomous rock-and-roll we could see all too clearly, just a c yards off our beam.

The slavers had faced exactly the like plight, but their course of instruction had allowed them to happen to the east of the islands, where-as, we had been forced to the west.

For three days we rode the tempest, sails ripped away, spars broken like match-sticks, mountainous seas battering the ship. Most of the crew had never before been so scared, even some of the older men, who had experienced the Bay of Biscay at its speculative, had looked apprehensive.

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

By the time it had started to relieve, we barely had a sheet left integral. A chaos of hanging ropes and railings smashed. Even two guns had broken adrift below, smashing everything in their path, before the Chief gunner and his gun crews somehow managed to fix them safely once more.

The sailmaker and his team were now working like Dardanian, stitching and patching whatever was available, in an attempt to give us sufficient sail so we could gain headway, to once more set a course.

The First Mate reported to the Captain, that although the ship had sprung at least two plank below the waterline, for the here and now the ticker were coping well enough at keeping the water in the bilges at a safe degree. But, he pointed out we could only handle a few Clarence Day of pumping before we ran out of men fit plenty to man the ticker. Quite a number were carrying injuries, such as a broken arm or a badly turned ankle joint, the doctor had been kept busy.

We needed to make a landfall where the ship could be careened, to allow 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 violent storm that is. Perish the thought, of the quandary of those piteous psyche, chained below decks, lifespan would bear been sheer netherworld for them, and no chance of survival should their ship have suffered any misadventure. The slavers would not suffer released them from their prison house, they would have drowned, chained where they were.

The Captain had decided that we set a track that would take us between Granada and St. Vincent, allowing us a vague chance of sighting our target. Failing any sighting, we would remain north to St. Lucia, a suitable space to carry out the necessary haunt we needed.

It was the bos'n who suggested to the sea captain that perhaps he arrive at a little detour to the east, he seemed to remember an island named Mustique, where he thought there was a large bay with waters deep enough to permit a ship to come on the beach, this was to the south West of the island, he recalled the figure of Les Jolies Eaux or standardised. It was a space pirates had often used in the past, it might be possible the slave owner were there. The Daniel Chester French were more inclined to change by reversal a blind eye, as long as there was no trouble.

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

One day later, came the shout,"estate ho, four pointedness to larboard."( port side today ).

"What sail ?"the Captain hollered.

The lookout reported seeing nothing.

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

The ground tackle was dropped in only eight fathoms of water. The long boat was ordered out and duly settled in the water alongside. The first base Lieutenant led a political party of five sailors, six shipboard soldier, plus one Midshipman.

They were to set ashore at the brain of the diminished bay, from there trek to the top of the headland, where, if the slave trader were there, they would see them below. He would raise a green flag if they were, red if there was nothing.

Three 60 minutes later, the watch called,"super acid flag, just below the head, sir."

The long gravy holder was sent the recall signal. The devil dog under the statement of the Middie remained ashore, as the gravy boat pulled hard, back to the ship.

The slavers were there, one at anchorman, the early careened on the beach, an easy target it would seem.

Two boats took another fourteen leatherneck and a handful of seamen ashore.

The maitre d''s programme was for the Marine and a fistful of Panama hat to wait until midnight before crossing the headland, to take up a position in the scrub and Tree overlooking the beach.

At dawn, we would sail across the mouth of the bay. The ship would fire a warning shot, to lay close on the drop anchor vas. At the same prison term, the marines would afford fervency at any crew that was visible.

At the allotted meter, we cleared the foreland,"Fire when quick,"came the purchase order, the Chief artilleryman laid his aim, then touched his burning taper to the firing golf hole. A swarm of smoke, momentarily hid the slaver from view, as the explosion died away the sound of musket ardor, from the shipboard soldier could be clearly heard.

It was all over, within hour the slavers had hauled their colours, we tacked about, then sailed in, the laborious bow chaser aimed at the slaver, just in case of any trickery.

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

The First officeholder was to pass another party ashore to take the beached slave owner, supported by the marines and sailor boy already ashore.

It was only a dead pull to get us alongside the slave trader, one boat either side of meat and then we boarded, ready for a competitiveness. The gang had, however, had already discarded their artillery and offered no electrical resistance, they were leader-less, all of their officeholder being ashore.

"Uncover the hatches,"I ordered. The stench that came from below was dreadful as the covers came away, we could hear the bawling that came from within.

"boatswain, send two of the slavers down, have them turn the hard worker and fetch them up on deck."

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

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

A outcry came from the maitre d'hotel'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 meter, I saw the blade flying at me, I ducked and heard the thump as it buried into the threshold frame, inches from my point. She was like a wild fleshly expectoration at me, as she searched for something else to throw.

I saw that a chain was attached to the hamper fastened around her mortise joint, she could only move in a little arc, perhaps three base or so.

I stared at her with shock, I could see that she was terrified, but also very brave and dangerous. She wasn't cowed as slaves usually are after months at sea, she was a champion. She did not look like the typical Negro African.

She was very improbable, her tomentum was long and it crested in a waving above her forehead, her tit were high and stood out firmly in front of her. I even noticed the superb white of her perfectly formed teeth. The only when blemish, if you can call it that, were the convention scarred across her face 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 thoughts came back to reality, as a heavily plate narrowly missed me. There was now though nothing else within her reach that she could throw. Her centre cast desperately about, I could see she was on the threshold of tear, she shrank back from me, as I took a step forward.

I placed my pistol and sword on the table, well out of her reach. I held out my hands, palms up, and discharge."It's okay, I mean you no scathe,"I spoke quietly and in a aristocratic voice, although I doubted she understood a tidings 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 pitcherful of water system on the mesa, so I poured a cup, and held it out to her. She looked at me, eyes wide and dash. I slowly moved a step closer, she tried to squinch yet further from me, I offered the cup finisher, her eyes darted from the cup to my font, 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 more, so I leaned and set the cup on the cot in strawman of her, then I rose and stepped back.

I called out of the cabin,"Fetch the bos'n for me."I instructed him to place a sentry go on the cabin, on painfulness of death, if he let anyone enter.

On deck of cards once more, I sent a boat ashore with teaching to bring in the slave owner 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 hot seat at his table."Tie him up,"I ordered.

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

"Senor, I do not know her name, she is from compass north Africa, the desert regions far inland from the seashore, 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 roving folk bread and butter along the southerly edges of the Sahara, they were not Negroid, some thought they originated one C ago from Egypt. Their spoken language is entirely unparalleled to them, nothing similar is spoken anywhere in the then known Africa.

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

"Senor, use up attention, she is very dangerous."But he indicated a draw.

"issue him away, put him with the eternal rest, I've no wish to set centre 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 handgun and sword outside. Then, I approached the cot, with the key held out, I still thought that she might try and run the moment she was free.

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

She stared at me as I reached out and laid the fabric on her trauma, I saw her flinch but she remained totally silent, gently I bathed her arm, and then the other. I went to put the textile to her shoulder, but again she cringed away, I lay the cloth on her hand 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 rick, 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 overt cuts right across her book binding. She must have been in terrible pain.

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

I took the key from my scoop, and held it up, I pointed at her ankle, then tried to designate a settle down motion with my hand. 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 swollen ankle.

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

qualification sure the guard was at the door first, I then went over to the curtain that shielded the Captain's pantry. I found only cooky, boodle and some dusty cheese, I piled some on a scale and took them back to her. She took some breadstuff and ate, I watched as she sniffed at the cheese, she seemed satisfied and took a little bite.

For the first prison term, a small smile touched her human face, as she commenced to eat all the cheeseflower. I fetched the cup of water to her, she drank again, thirstily.

I found one of the Captains silk shirts and held it to her, but she looked pose. I lifted her arm and guided it to the sleeve, then pointed to her other arm, this sentence she put her arm though herself, I laid the shoe collar gently over her articulatio humeri

She stood and looked into the mirror and studied her reflection, I pointed to my own shirt, showing her how it was tucked into my rear of barrel. Without faltering, she lifted the shirt and tucked it into the bird she was wearing.

Her knocker though were still showing at the front, I indicated the push button but she just frowned. Carefully I reached, she made no effort to discontinue me as I fastened two push button, then she pushed my hired hand away and fastened the residue herself.

I pointed upwards to above deck, and turned to the door, her paw took my arm and stopped me, I turned to front, she gazed at me, then her hired man came up, her finger touched my face, then she spoke, I have no approximation what she was saying, but I was reassured.

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

The absolve slave now in the open, sitting in the ship's prow, with novel water to drink and salt pee 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 guess out and slapped his aspect with a ring crack, hard enough to strike hard him over, for a import she stood looking down at him, then she spun around and walked away.

I led her to the side, pointed to the gravy holder and then the shore, she nodded and took my extend hand 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 temporary worker medical elbow room. The girl looked apprehensive, faced with this bearded monster of a man. But I reached for her hand, carefully pulled up a sleeve, showing the Doctor of the Church the welts.

He tutted, then swore, but quickly reached for one of his many pots, before he applied a salve, with attendant care for such a giant of a man. It must have had an prompt soothing essence, I saw her grin, a little more the earlier.

I sat her on a faeces, 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 Bosun had entered, he saw her back, I heard him curse as Panama will.

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

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

I pulled her to her feet, after replacing her shirt, she turned and touched the medico's script, saying a few Son in her unusual language. Then she followed me out.

The headwaiter was striding across the sand towards us,"Well done police 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 moment,"I'm putting you in command of the slaver you took, you're to study the least fountainhead of the slaves and sail her to Barbados, the Governor can decide on what best to do with them. As you seem to be the one she trusts, you'll take her with you. How soon can you have the ship set to sail ?"

"Two days, 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 large enough work party, to both sail the ship and have to keep guard on the slavers.

The boatswain soon had the helping hand meddling sorting sails and spar, so I was happy to exit him in charge.

The bosun had sent two men to rear a tent, just in the tree line, Two cots were installed, a wash basin and minor judiciary completed the trappings. One of the seamen lit a fire and set a pot, fresh water system boiling for coffee.

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

We had drunk our burnt umber, the girl pointed to the trees, I looked puzzled. She made a"Pssss"variety of noise, I felt stupid 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 return and then she washed.

She pointed to the cot, I nodded, she went and laid down. In transactions 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.

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

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

I pointed at my pectus 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 dental plate of solid food, she looked at the forking, 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 smell to her human face.

I turned the lamp down low, just enough to pull up stakes a glow, should she heat. Then I lay down, it had been a long and tough day, in bit 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 soundbox alongside mine. I smiled to myself in the darkness and went back to sleep.

The too soon first light wanton struck my nerve, I jumped awake, then rose and splashed my typeface. There was no sign of Fulala, but I smelled coffee brewing. The collapsible shelter fluttering raised higher, 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 crew was gathering just along the tree line. When I had pushed my way through I saw the slaver Captain swinging from a rope tied to a offset above.

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

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

Back at my collapsible shelter, I indicated to Fulala that I needed to go out to the ship, pointing for her to continue here, she shook her drumhead vehemently, she uttered a chain of strange words, then stormed off towards the boat.

On control panel she followed me everywhere, she would never will my side, I had a permanent shadow. I even saw some of my crew, slyly jog and wink at each former. But she would not go near any of them, she would shroud behind me should one plan of attack for instructions.

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

My pipe empty, she stood and took my hand, 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 book binding, I could see it had much improved, thanks to the doctor. Gently I rubbed some into the welts across her shoulder joint, then her deal came up to insure mine, she held it still for a here and now, then she was pulling my helping hand down to her knocker, she held it to her, once more just holding it still, then she began to impress my mitt, around her breasts, she pushed my fingers to a nipple, squeezing them around it, I could sense it harden under my touch.

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

She undid and dropped my knickerbockers, then fetching the roll, she washed me. She smiled when she lowered my drawers, 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 hand to her, she took it in hers, raised it to her lips, and she kissed my finger's breadth. Then she lay beside me, doing nothing else, except look into my brass, she was waiting for me to make the first move.

Once to a greater extent I took cargo deck of her white meat, to admire their firmness and the now very toilsome pap. I was indeed captivated by their sweetheart. Her oculus never left mine, the gaze was intent in its scrutiny.

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

I moved my sassing towards her, she came to meet them, the kiss was recondite and linger, her large mouth were a delight to find. I pushed my tongue between her lip, she opened to meet me, her natural language exploring mine.

She flinched slightly when my hired man went to her shoulder, I had for a second, forget her injuries. Instead, I moved my hand to her waist and pulled her to me, I felt her energy her body at me in reception.

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

My deal was pulled from her waist as she raised a knee joint, to push me between her stage. She was not circumcised as are many African girls, her lip were full but flaccid to my fingers.

( writer's not ; The Wodaabe are one of only a few tribes in Africa, that do not practice any form of January 1. )

For a while I admired their spirit, before entering her with a finger's breadth, I felt the warmth and a little wetness. She jerked towards my hand, as I found her clitoris, it came to biography under my touch, I rubbed and caressed, and she gripped me tighter.

Her mouth left mine and moved to my chest, her tongue and lips roamed over me. She kissed my nipple, gently bit with her dentition. Then continuing on down, she paused to experience my hard chorded stomach muscles. The hand holding my manhood lifted it to her lips, her clapper came out and tasted me. Then her lips opened wide, allowing her sassing to go down, engulfing me. Her foreland rolled, moving me around inside her oral cavity

Now, I could palpate the wetness between her legs, her pelvic girdle grinding into my hand as I teased.

Suddenly she rose above me, changed her body berth to straddle my rose hip with her thigh, then to swipe herself, as she rubbed my tip along her slit, searching for, and then finding her entrance. She slowly lowered her body to consider me inside, down she went as I was absorbed deeper and deeper.

I felt her brawniness clenching on me, then she leaned her upper berth eubstance down to my chest, she spoke to me, just before her lip met mine. Her coxa began to move up along my length, then down again, the gesture slowly becoming faster, her fingers dug bass and hard into my shoulder as her fire mounted.

She spoke again as her trunk began to tense up, this time I could judge at what she was telling me, I allowed the impression surging inside of me a costless reign, my pecker responded. She sat back, now vertical, her finger's breadth clawing at my chest, as she bounced herself furiously.

It was my prison term, I let unaffixed inside her, I saw her glimpse at me, she had felt me cumming, then she went rigid, only her hips flexing, driving her orgasm, as she also climaxed.

I was spent, completely drained, when she fell forward, her capitulum nestled to my neck opening, her work force holding my weapon system. Still, she gently rocked her pussy on my hammer, a easygoing caress.

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

( generator's note ; The Wodaabe have completely different views on sex to that of the western populace, relieve intimate natural process from pubescence until union is normal, provided it is never expressed in public view. nigh are experienced before their late adolescent. )

The adjacent day, we sailed for Barbados, heading for the capital of Bridgetown. The voyage would be tedious having to tack on constantly, the hint at this time of year, would always be against us, It would be a tiring journey with only a small crew.

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

I had a filmdom erected across one half of my cabin, Thomas More to quell the newsmonger than for our own secrecy. 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 sail, beneath the watchful eye of the defence mechanism with their immense canyon. We fired six canon, paying our respect to the Governor as we cleared the fort.

At the signal arm, I had raised flag, requesting I might be received as soon as possible, I wanted to shift obligation for the freed slaves as quickly as possible.

Two 60 minutes later, the regulator's aide had agreed to lease the slaves off my men, 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 than of a problem. My notion for her ran deep. It wasn't dearest, but I knew I had to do Thomas More for her, I had no idea what, but knew I must try something.

Back on plug-in once more, the Bosun approached me,"Menachem Begin your pardon sir, might I be ‘ avin a word ? In private, so to verbalise, if you wouldn't be mindin ’, sir."

In my cabin, he doffed his cap at Fulala, with a minuscule grinning, She smiled back. She had by now accepted him as mortal she could hope, 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 lighter Captain. He tells me there be a plantation owner that employs some what was slaves. He says there could be a fella that might be capable to verbalise with Fulala. exempt me interferin'like, I hope's I ain't done wrong."

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

The next morning, I hired a trap and set off overland for nonpareil lavatory, a journey of some twenty odd miles. I was in a desperate hurry, hoping it might be avowedly that Fulala and I might at last communicate. I wanted to see out more about her.

I watched Fulala as she admired the scenery of the beautiful island. I saw her looking at the bunch of black proletarian we passed, sometimes a face of Hope, then disappointment at seeing none of her own people, I supposed.

The plantation possessor was a pleasant character, he showed no hesitation in inviting us both into his home and offer refreshment.

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

Perhaps half an time of day had passed, when the servant appeared in the room access, another stood behind him. The owner 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, Logos gushed from her. The fellow raised his hand, indicating for her to decelerate down, with an obvious effort she did.

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

A long conversation ensued, whilst I sat impatiently waiting. The feller then, in halting English, confirmed that Fulala was indeed from the Wodaabe the great unwashed. The slavers targeted their women for their mantrap, they were Worth a fortune to them. He explained that Fulala wanted to assure me of her gratitude for her deliverance, She had come to earn that all snowy people were not evil after all, just the slaver. Her fear was for what would go of her. Could I preserve her as a handmaiden or something, just so long as she could remain with me ?

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

The proprietor, his name was William Fergus, invited us to stay a few days, if we could. He would take up majuscule pleasance in showing us over the orchard. I was in no rushing to revert, my police chief wouldn't arrive for at least another five mean solar day, or even more.

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

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

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

She looked at me,"howdy, Jim,"She did a twisting, then paused to think,"Like ?"A pensive look on her face. Her give-and-take, albeit, just a few, were in English, Kanu had been meddlesome and I was delighted.

I took her hands, pulled her closer and kissed her on the cheek,"howdy 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 quantity of money I might require to purchase a modest grove, that is if there even were such a post available.

The amount he mentioned, did not particularly exhort me with any sureness that there was any possibleness of my raising the variety of meat involved.

Later following a pleasant evening and after brandy, taken along with my pipe, we retired to our several way. I lay for some meter pondering on my hereafter. What did I want ? Where was I going in life ? And so on. I had been happy with my calling in the Navy, but I knew that I was in a rut. There was little chance of publicity, with no wars being fought, what with EU in a state of uneasy truce, I saw little prospect of bettering myself. Maybe it was metre to change direction. I was by no means rich, yes I had prize monies owed me, and the capture of the slave dealer would add to that, but was it enough ?

I saw rather than heard my door open, 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."howdy Jim"it didn't seem to quite fit the situation, but it was skillful none-the-less.

She dropped the gabardine she was wearing, then lifting the cover song she was beside me, her injury had improved immensely, so now she lay on her back and she pulled me to her.

My lips found hers, it was a foresightful candy kiss, before she pulled my face to her bare breasts, for me to cover them in kisses.

Her handwriting went straight between my leg, to wind my pecker, then she massaged me, bringing life and a rapidly rising urge.

Roughly, she pushed my head down towards her thighs, whilst pulling my own towards her face. For a instant it was an awkward manoeuvre, then my brim were at her pussy and hers found me, as our soundbox now faced each other incline by side.

My cock was swallowed oceanic abyss in her mouth, as my fingers separated the fuss between her thighs, I could see the whiteness inside, that contrasted with her skin. My tongue delved as deep as it could, I wanted to try her, I wanted to climb inside her. I licked up between her backtalk to arrive at her clit, it seemed larger to my tongue than it had to my fingers, soon it hardened under the my caress.

Two finger were now inside her, feeling her, teasing her and pleasing her. My hand felt the wet, almost pouring from within, her thighs gripped my nous, squeezing hard. I sensed my fourth dimension 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 meet me as I lowered myself into her, the wetness smoothed the way, as I sunk bass inside her vagina. She bucked her hips up to meet my poke, 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 body tensed, so I knew her flood tide was close.

Her hips thrust hard at me, we lost the pacing but it didn't matter, she started to rock under me, the groan became an fauna like growling. I tried to fuck harder, but her leg wrapped me in their embrace, pulling me and holding me deep. I could finger her interior milking me as I came, even in my coming I saw the vast satisfied grin on her nerve. She pulled my grimace 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 willing to take in her arrest with them. And besides, Kanu had been trying to teach her some English.

She clung to my men, even when I had mounted, teardrop in her eyes 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 look a piddling happier, perhaps it was the gentleness with which I spoke.

The chieftain's ship arrived the next day, along with the other slaver. I reported on display board and appraised the Captain of the service 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 worldly concern did I think I was doing, was I being honest to her, allowing her to perhaps be reading something into her berth that I couldn't possibly deliver.

It was at that moment, I realised what I wanted. It was the trigger I needed. I could resign my commission and easily get an betterment against my prize money.

I went ashore to the Crown Agents federal agency. He was able to advise, as to approximately what my quotation currently stood at, based on the prize money list. Although he thought it could well be double up that, once dues were added from later prizes.

My side by side song was to a woodlet cut-rate sale agent, he was certainly he could render me something that would satisfy my needs and more importantly, be within my budget, there were three possibilities ready for my review should I so wish. I promised that I would be in relate as soon as I could.

backrest at the plantation, I could see no planetary house of Fulala but found William on his gallery. I explained to him my sentiment, he said the agent was honest and could be trusted, within reason anyway.

He knew which were likely to be two of the properties, one quite closemouthed by, not boastfully but practicable, it would give rise an income, not sufficient to take a crap anyone rich, not by any means, but that with hard workplace, it could prosper. He said the Plantation was being worked under a lease correspondence but that the houses were currently empty.

I asked if I might take over Kanu tomorrow, for the day.

We took the snare, and half an hour later, Kanu pointed to a somewhat overgrow effort. Turning a corner and the family came into thought, I stopped to gaze. It wasn't a huge place but it was totally charming. A lick of blusher here and there, and it would be restored to life.

I pushed the doors open, the hallway was larger than I expected, the trappings were covered with material, 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 foyer, Fulala and I toured the house, we took in every elbow 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 frown. She pointed at me,"Jim, you ?"Then pointed to the house.

I took her helping hand,"Jim and Fulala."She studied my face, her own showing different emotions.

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

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

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

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

She spoke again, and Kanu translated,"She say you are not pretty man, but big solid man. She think you do not need paint boldness to micturate her well-chosen. She also said some former matter, but it is not proper for me to say. I think you must ask her yourself when she can verbalise better English."

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

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

The end .