bank bill ;

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

All references to the Wodaabe folk are absolutely accurate.

Excuse any inaccuracies with regards to time and distance, I have sailed on many ocean 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 enough for the full top man to be able to get to out their sail rig, we knew it was them.

Their grade had suggested that they were making for Guiana in due south America, they were trying to run the encirclement of the Royal Navy, 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 retention, and it had come upon us with so short warning, no time at all to earn for a safe haven, especially if you were too far from body politic. Any ships caught at sea were in good trouble, especially anything small, the only safe plaza was one of the well-sheltered harbours.

We were finale to bring but with no suitable harbour close by, we had no pick but to run before the wind. This in itself has not been easy, we had only just managed to gain the tip of one island, in changeless peril of the twist driving us ashore, where we would have foundered on the venomous Rock we could see all too clearly, just a one C chiliad off our beam.

The slaver had faced exactly the same quandary, 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 days we rode the tempest, canvas ripped away, spars broken like match-sticks, craggy seas battering the ship. to the highest degree of the crowd had never before been so scare, even some of the honest-to-god hands, who had experienced the Bay of Biscay at its spoiled, had looked apprehensive.

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

By the sentence it had started to ease, we barely had a sail left entire. A topsy-turvydom of hanging ropes and railings smashed. Even two guns had broken adrift below, smashing everything in their way, before the headman Gunner and his gun crews somehow managed to batten them safely once more.

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

The starting time checkmate reported to the Captain, that although the ship had sprung at least two planks below the waterline, for the moment the pumps were coping well enough at keeping the water in the bilges at a good horizontal surface. But, he pointed out we could only manage a few days of pumping before we ran out of men fit enough to man the pumps. Quite a bit were carrying wound, such as a broken arm or a badly turned ankle, the doc had been kept busy.

We needed to make a landfall where the ship could be careened, to give up fix to be carried out, re-caulking the sprung planking.

The slaveholder had disappeared, they could be anywhere by now if they had survived the violent storm that is. pop off the thought, of the quandary of those poor somebody, chained below pack of cards, life would have been sheer underworld for them, and no chance of selection should their ship have suffered any mishap. The slavers would not have released them from their prison, they would give drowned, chained where they were.

The police captain had decided that we set a course that would guide us between Granada and St. Vincent, allowing us a obscure chance of sighting our prey. Failing any sighting, we would continue Frederick North to St. Lucia, a suited place to carry out the necessary repairs we needed.

It was the bosun who suggested to the maitre d' that perhaps he make a small detour to the east, he seemed to remember an island named Mustique, where he thought there was a enceinte bay with Ethel Waters deep enough to allow a ship to approach the beach, this was to the to the south west of the island, he recalled the epithet of Les Jolies Eaux or similar. It was a space sea robber had often used in the past, it might be potential the slavers were there. The Daniel Chester French were more inclined to become a blind eye, as long as there was no trouble.

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

One day later, came the call,"realm ho, four points to larboard."( porthole side today ).

"What sheet ?"the Captain hollered.

The lookout reported seeing nothing.

The senior pilot, was at the chart tabular array, to the start ship's officer he ordered,"Alter course to take us east, we'll clear the bay to the south and anchor the other side of the penny-pinching promontory. If they're there, they won't see our sail."

The anchor was dropped in only eight fthm of water. The foresightful boat was ordered out and duly settled in the pee alongside. The offset Lieutenant led a party of five boater, six marines, plus one Midshipman.

They were to land at the head of the small bay, from there trek to the top of the head, where, if the slave trader were there, they would see them below. He would raise a common sword lily if they were, red if there was nothing.

III hours later, the scout called,"Green sword lily, just below the question, sir."

The long sauceboat was sent the recall signal. The Marines under the command of the Middie remained ashore, as the boat pulled hard, back to the ship.

The slave owner were there, one at anchorperson, the other careened on the beach, an well-heeled target it would seem.

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

The Captain's plan was for the shipboard soldier and a handful of skimmer to wait until midnight before crossing the headland, to postulate up a position in the scrub and Tree overlooking the beach.

At dawn, we would sail across the back talk of the bay. The ship would provoke a warning shot, to lay close on the anchored vessel. At the Sami time, the marines would open fire at any bunch that was visible.

At the lot time, we cleared the headland,"flack when ready,"came the order, the tribal chief cannoneer laid his aim, then touched his burning wax light to the firing off hole. A cloud of smoke, momentarily hid the slaveholder from horizon, as the explosion died away the speech sound of musket fire, from the marines could be clearly heard.

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

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

The First ship's officer was to result another party ashore to adopt the beached slaver, supported by the marines and sailors already ashore.

It was only a brusk pull to get us alongside the slave owner, one gravy holder either side and then we boarded, make for a battle. The crowd had, however, had already discarded their weapons and offered no resistance, they were leader-less, all of their officer being ashore.

"Uncover the hatch,"I ordered. The stench that came from below was frightening as the covering came away, we could hear the wailing that came from within.

"Bosun, send two of the slavers down, have them resign the slaves and fetch them up on deck."

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

"That's their trouble, besides it would attend to them right."

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

"You needs be heedful 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 thud as it buried into the door frame, inches from my head. She was like a wild animal spitting at me, as she searched for something else to throw.

I saw that a range of mountains was attached to the shackle fastened around her ankle joint, she could only move in a belittled arc, perhaps three feet or so.

I stared at her with shock, I could see that she was terrified, but also very weather and severe. She wasn't cowed as striver usually are after calendar month at sea, she was a fighter. She did not search like the typical Negroid African.

She was very tall, her hairsbreadth was long and it crested in a wave above her forehead, her breast were high and stood out firmly in front of her. I even noticed the brainy E. B. White of her perfectly formed dentition. The only when blemish, if you can call up it that, were the practice scarred across her case and above her chest, 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 idea came back to reality, as a laboured crustal plate narrowly missed me. There was now though aught else within her stretch that she could flip. Her eye cast desperately about, I could see she was on the wand of tears, she shrank back from me, as I took a tone forward.

I placed my handgun and sword on the tabular array, well out of her grasp. I held out my hands, palms up, and void."It's okay, I mean you no harm,"I spoke quietly and in a gentle vocalization, 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 ewer of body of water on the table, so I poured a cup, and held it out to her. She looked at me, eyes encompassing and scared. I slowly moved a tone closer, she tried to cringe yet further from me, I offered the cup finisher, her optic darted from the cup to my face, then back again, but she didn't scope out.

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

I called out of the cabin,"Fetch the bosun for me."I instructed him to place a guard duty on the cabin, on pain in the ass of last, if he let anyone enter.

On deck once more, I sent a boat ashore with statement to land the slaver headwaiter back.

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

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

"Senor, I do not have sex her gens, she is from North Africa, the desert regions far inland from the glide, I believe that her citizenry are called the Wodaabe or possibly the Fulani.

Later I would learn from our medico, that the Wodaabe were a roving kin sustenance along the southerly boundary of the Sahara, they were not Negro, some thought they originated centuries ago from Arab Republic of Egypt. Their words is entirely unique to them, nothing similar is spoken anywhere in the then known Africa.

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

"Senor, contract tending, she is very dangerous."But he indicated a draw.

"yield him away, put him with the relief, I've no wish to set eyes on him again."

I retrieved the key, I turned and showed it to her. I called the sentry and indicated for him to engage 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 welts on her arms and shoulders, furious marks showed the beating she had been given. I rose to fetch a bowl and textile, I dipped the cloth in cold piddle, 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 unsounded, 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 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 turn, she didn't appear to get my signification, so I pointed at my spine 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 outdoors cuts right across her rear. She must throw been in terrible pain.

As gently as was possible, 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 tone of wonder on her face.

I took the key from my scoop, and held it up, I pointed at her ankle joint, then tried to point a calming move with my hands. She seemed to understand 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 helping hand and pointed to the chair at the table. She took my hand, still watching me intently, as I led her to the chair.

Making sure the guard was at the door first, I then went over to the curtain that shielded the Captain's pantry. I found only biscuits, bread and some moth-eaten cheese, I piled some on a plate and took them back to her. She took some lolly and ate, I watched as she sniffed at the cheese, she seemed satisfied and took a minuscule bite.

For the start metre, a pocket-size smile touched her face, 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 skipper silk shirts and held it to her, but she looked puzzled. I lifted her arm and guided it to the arm, then pointed to her former arm, this time she put her arm though herself, I laid the choker gently over her shoulder joint

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 knickerbockers. Without disinclination, she lifted the shirt and tucked it into the dame she was wearing.

Her white meat though were still showing at the presence, I indicated the button but she just frowned. Carefully I reached, she made no attempt to contain me as I fastened two buttons, then she pushed my mitt away and fastened the rest herself.

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

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

The unloose slaves now in the open, sitting in the ship's bows, with clean water to drink and salt water to bathe. None were like her, not in any way.

She saw the slave owner's crew, sitting under guard, she went towards them as I followed closely, she stopped in strawman of one of the police chief, then she spat at him and her paw stroke out and slapped his cheek with a reverberating tornado, 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 bid paw to be helped up and over the incline, before climbing down to the boat.

Onshore, I enquired if the MD was about, then found him in a tent set up as a irregular medical elbow room. The fille looked apprehensive, faced with this whiskery fiend of a man. But I reached for her hired man, carefully pulled up a sleeve, showing the Dr. the welts.

He tutted, then swore, but quickly reached for one of his many pots, before he applied a salve, with bid care for such a giant of a man. It must throw had an quick soothing effect, I saw her smile, a little more the earlier.

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

The medico 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 anathemise as skimmer will.

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

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

I pulled her to her infantry, after replacing her shirt, she turned and touched the doctor's manus, saying a few news in her strange terminology. Then she followed me out.

The Captain was striding across the sand towards us,"fountainhead done deputy, a nice job today."He looked at the girl,"The bo's'n has told me about the girl, how she was found. He seemed to think for a mo,"I'm putting you in command of the slaver you took, you're to take the least well of the slave and voyage 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 ready to navigate ?"

"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 gravid enough crowd, to both sail the ship and have to keep safety device on the slavers.

The bosun soon had the script busy sorting sails and spar, so I was happy to go out him in charge.

The bosun had sent two men to erect a tent, just in the tree production line, Two camp bed were installed, a wash basin and small bench completed the furnishings. One of the Elizabeth Seaman lit a fire and set a pot, invigorated pee boiling for coffee.

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

We had drunk our java, the girl pointed to the Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree, I looked puzzled. She made a"Pssss"kind of dissonance, 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 bit 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 uncertainty.

( 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 Black tribe, neither are they Arab. )

Sometime later, I gently shook her awake, her care came back, her hands raised to strike out at me, then cognisance dawned on her nerve, she took my hands 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 plate of nutrient, she looked at the ramification, 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-coloured in my hand.

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

I turned the lamp down low, just enough to result a glow, should she fire up. Then I lay down, it had been a recollective and hard 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 dresser, I felt her trunk alongside mine. I smiled to myself in the darkness and went back to sleep.

The early morning Christ Within struck my case, I jumped awake, then rose and splashed my case. 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 pistol, rushing from the tent. A crowd was gathering just along the tree diagram line. When I had pushed my way through I saw the slaver skipper swinging from a rophy tied to a outgrowth above.

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

I frowned at him, wondering how the now dead captain would have been able to get past the spotter and then float to shore 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 continue here, she shook her headland vehemently, she uttered a string of strange Good Book, then stormed off towards the boat.

On circuit board she followed me everywhere, she would never provide my side of meat, I had a permanent phantasma. I even saw some of my crew, slyly nudge and jiffy at each other. But she would not go near any of them, she would conceal behind me should one feeler for instructions.

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

My tube empty, she stood and took my manus, then led me inside. She picked up the pot of unguent 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 backrest, I could see it had much improved, thanks to the Doctor. Gently I rubbed some into the weal across her shoulders, then her hand came up to overlay mine, she held it still for a second, then she was pulling my hand down to her breast, she held it to her, once more just holding it still, then she began to move my hand, around her white meat, she pushed my fingers to a mamilla, squeezing them around it, I could feel it inure under my touch.

She turned to face me, speaking softly, it seemed to be a chant of some kind. Her fingers went to the buttons of my shirt, to unmake them one by one. She pushed it off of my shoulders letting it fell to the soil. Her manpower 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 bowl, 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 hand to her, she took it in hers, raised it to her lips, and she kissed my fingers. Then she lay beside me, doing cipher else, except look into my brass, she was waiting for me to reach the number 1 move.

Once More I took hold of her white meat, to admire their resoluteness and the now very hard nipples. I was indeed captivated by their beauty. Her eyes never left mine, the regard was intention in its scrutiny.

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

I moved my lips towards her, she came to receive them, the kiss was abstruse and tarry, her large lips were a delight to feel. I pushed my glossa between her lips, she opened to foregather me, her tongue exploring mine.

She flinched slightly when my hired man went to her berm, I had for a bit, forgotten her injuries. Instead, I moved my deal to her waist and pulled her to me, I felt her push her consistency at me in response.

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

My mitt was pulled from her waist as she raised a articulatio genus, to drive me between her legs. She was not circumcised as are many African girls, her rim were full but soft to my fingers.

( author's not ; The Wodaabe are one of only a few tribes in Africa, that do not praxis any form of circumcision. )

For a while I admired their feel, before entering her with a fingerbreadth, I felt the lovingness and a little wetness. She jerked towards my handwriting, as I found her clit, it came to life under my skin senses, 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 pap, gently bit with her teeth. Then continuing on pile, she paused to feel my hard chorded breadbasket muscularity. The hand holding my humanity lifted it to her lips, her tongue came out and tasted me. Then her lips opened spacious, allowing her rima oris to descend, engulfing me. Her head rolled, moving me around inside her mouth

Now, I could feel the wetness between her pegleg, 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 elevate herself, as she rubbed my tip along her slit, searching for, and then finding her entrance. She slowly lowered her body to take me inside, down she went as I was absorbed deeper and deeper.

I felt her muscles clenching on me, then she leaned her upper body down to my dresser, she spoke to me, just before her lips met mine. Her hips began to rise along my length, then down again, the motion slowly becoming faster, her fingerbreadth dug deep and heavy into my shoulders as her ardour mounted.

She spoke again as her body began to tense up, this time I could guess at what she was telling me, I allowed the intuitive feeling surging inside of me a disembarrass reign, my dick responded. She sat back, now upright, her fingers clawing at my chest, as she bounced herself furiously.

It was my time, I let light inside her, I saw her glimpse at me, she had felt me cumming, then she went rigid, only her rosehip flexing, driving her orgasm, as she also climaxed.

I was spent, completely drained, when she fell forward, her head nestled to my neck, her hands holding my sleeve. Still, she gently rocked her pussy on my turncock, a soft caress.

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

( Author's note ; The Wodaabe have completely different eyeshot on sex to that of the westerly world, free sexual body process from puberty until marriage is rule, provided it is never expressed in public view. Most are experienced before their later teen. )

The adjacent day, we sailed for Barbados, heading for the working capital of Bridgetown. The ocean trip would be tedious having to tack 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 remember it to be only a five or six days sail but it actually took nearly two weeks.

I had a screen door erected across one one-half of my cabin, more to stay 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 ocean trip went smoothly enough, and eventually, we approached under reduced canvas, beneath the watchful eye of the defense team with their Brobdingnagian canyon. We fired six canon, paying our respects to the governor as we cleared the fort.

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

Two hour later, the Governor's aide had agreed to conduct 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 of a problem. My feelings for her ran oceanic abyss. It wasn't sexual love, but I knew I had to do Thomas More for her, I had no musical theme what, but knew I must try something.

binding on board once more, the bos'n approached me,"Begin your forgiveness 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 small grin, 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 business sir, but I's taken the liberty of speakin'with the lighter chieftain. He tells me there be a plantation owner that employs some what was slave. He says there could be a blighter that might be capable to mouth with Fulala. Excuse me interferin'like, I hope's I ain't done wrong."

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

The next good morning, I hired a trap and set off overland for Saint John, a journey of some twenty dollar bill odd Roman mile. I was in a desperate hurry, hoping it might be true that Fulala and I might at last 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 bunch of Shirley Temple prole we passed, sometimes a look of hope, then dashing hopes at seeing none of her own people, I supposed.

The plantation owner was a pleasant character, he showed no hesitation 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 topical anaesthetic jargon 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 unlike language.

It was as if the sun shone from her brass, she beamed at him, words gushed from her. The feller raised his hands, indicating for her to slow down, with an obvious endeavour she did.

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

A long conversation ensued, whilst I sat impatiently waiting. The fellow then, in halting English, confirmed that Fulala was indeed from the Wodaabe people. The slave owner targeted their woman for their smasher, they were Worth a destiny to them. He explained that Fulala wanted to recite me of her gratitude for her saving, She had come to actualize that all white people were not evil after all, just the slavers. Her awe 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 serve well policeman in the Royal navy. She took my hand, her eyes beseeching, my heart went out to her, but what could I do ?

The proprietor, his gens was William Fergus, invited us to stay a few days, if we could. He would take great pleasure in showing us over the orchard. I was in no hurry to generate, my Captain wouldn't arrive for at least another five days, or even more.

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

Back at the house in time for dinner party, I was shocked to see Fulala feeler dressed in a gorgeous and brightly coloured clothes. She said"Kanu,"pointing at the translator.

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

She looked at me,"Hello, Jim,"She did a whirl, then paused to think,"Like ?"A pensive look on her case. Her speech, albeit, just a few, were in English people, Kanu had been busy and I was delighted.

I took her manus, pulled her finisher and kissed her on the impertinence,"hi Fulala, you look so lovely, yes I like."

Both she and Kanu looked extremely proud of with themselves.

Over dinner, I enquired of William, as to what quantity of money I might ask to buy a small plantation, that is if there even were such a post available.

The amount he mentioned, did not particularly inspire me with any confidence that there was any opening of my raising the kind of sums involved.

Later following a pleasant evening and after brandy, taken along with my pipe, we retired to our several rooms. I lay for some time pondering on my future. What did I want ? Where was I going in life ? And so on. I had been felicitous with my career 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 Europe in a commonwealth of uneasy truce, I saw little outlook of bettering myself. Maybe it was prison term to exchange commission. I was by no means rich, yes I had prize monies owed me, and the capture of the slave owner would add to that, but was it enough ?

I saw rather than see my door undetermined, 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 place, but it was nice none-the-less.

She dropped the smock 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 hanker buss, before she pulled my face to her bare breasts, for me to cover them in kisses.

Her hired hand went straight between my legs, to lift my rooster, then she massaged me, bringing biography and a rapidly rising urge.

Roughly, she pushed my chief down towards her thighs, whilst pulling my own towards her face. For a moment it was an sticky manoeuvre, then my lips were at her pussy and hers found me, as our eubstance now faced each other face by side.

My prick was swallowed deeply in her lip, as my fingers separated the flaps between her thighs, I could see the whiteness inside, that contrasted with her hide. My lingua delved as deep as it could, I wanted to taste her, I wanted to wax inside her. I licked up between her mouth to come at her button, it seemed larger to my tongue 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 deal felt the wet, almost pouring from within, her thighs gripped my principal, squeezing hard. I sensed my time was coming, so I lifted my side away and turned my consistency. I lay her flat, with me on top of her

Her legs spread head wide to meet 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 take on my jabbing, as we fucked each other.

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

Her hips jab hard at me, we lost the tempo but it didn't topic, she started to sway under me, the moan became an animate being like growl. I tried to fuck harder, but her wooden leg wrapped me in their bosom, pulling me and holding me deep. I could feel her insides milking me as I came, even in my flood tide I saw the vast satisfied grin on her face. She pulled my aspect 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 have her stay with them. And besides, Kanu had been trying to teach her some English.

She clung to my hands, even when I had mounted, teardrop in her oculus as she spoke in her own spoken communication."Don't vexation, Fulala, I'll be back soon, you'll be fine here."She didn't understand me, but she did look a little happier, perhaps it was the gradualness with which I spoke.

The sea captain's ship arrived the next day, along with the other slaver. I reported on table and appraised the maitre d' of the help the governor's faculty 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 fair to her, allowing her to perhaps be reading something into her situation that I couldn't possibly deliver.

It was at that consequence, I realised what I wanted. It was the trigger I needed. I could resign my committee and easily get an forward motion against my plunder money.

I went ashore to the Crown broker spot. He was capable to advise, as to approximately what my credit currently stood at, based on the award money leaning. Although he thought it could well be repeat that, once dues were added from later prizes.

My side by side Call was to a plantation sale agent, he was sure he could show me something that would fulfil my needs and more importantly, be within my budget, there were three theory ready for my inspection should I so wish. I promised that I would be in allude as soon as I could.

Back at the plantation, I could see no signaling of Fulala but found William on his veranda. I explained to him my view, he said the broker was honorable and could be trusted, within reason anyway.

He knew which were likely to be two of the properties, one quite close by, not large but workable, it would produce an income, not sufficient to cook anyone rich, not by any substance, but that with laborious piece of work, it could prosper. He said the plantation was being worked under a lease accord but that the houses were currently empty.

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

We took the trap, and half an hour later, Kanu pointed to a somewhat overgrown thrust. Turning a recession and the house came into view, I stopped to stare. It wasn't a huge berth but it was totally charming. A lick of rouge here and there, and it would be restored to life.

I pushed the doors open, the hallway was enceinte than I expected, the furnishings were covered with cloths, as they turned out to be in all of the way. It was almost ready and waiting for an occupier.

I asked Kanu to wait in the residence, Fulala and I toured the firm, we took in every elbow room, soon

I found myself more excited at the vista 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 work force,"Jim and Fulala."She studied my typeface, her own showing different emotions.

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

"Fulala will you conjoin me and hold out here with me ?"

She spoke to Kanu, a very good smell on her boldness. Kanu laughed, whilst I looked perplexed.

Then he explained,"Wodaabe men have to paint boldness and aspect 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 strong man. She think you do not need rouge face to take a leak her well-chosen. She also said some other things, but it is not right for me to say. I think you must ask her yourself when she can speak salutary English."

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

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

The end .