promissory 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 farseeing story, only sex, then delight don't read.

All references to the Wodaabe tribe are absolutely accurate.

exculpation any inaccuracies with wish to time and distance, I have sailed on many seas but I am not a navigator,

... ... ....

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

We had sighted them once, two ships close to the purview, but near enough for the advantageously top man to be able to make out their canvass rig, we knew it was them.

Their course of study had suggested that they were making for Guiana in South United States, they were trying to run the blockade of the royal Navy, that had been set up after most European area had outlawed slavery

But then, the hurricane had struck, it was one of the worst in living storage, and it had come upon us with so little word of advice, no time at all to make for a safe haven, especially if you were too far from land. Any ships caught at sea were in serious difficulty, especially anything small, the only safe home was one of the well-sheltered harbours.

We were close to land but with no suitable harbour close by, we had no choice but to run before the tip. This in itself has not been well-heeled, we had only just managed to top the tip of one island, in constant danger of the confidential information driving us ashore, where we would have foundered on the vicious rocks we could see all too clearly, just a hundred railway yard off our beam.

The slavers had faced exactly the Saame predicament, but their path had allowed them to decease to the east of the islands, where-as, we had been forced to the west.

For three days we rode the storm, sheet ripped away, spars broken like match-sticks, mountainous seas battering the ship. Most of the work party had never before been so fright, even some of the older hands, who had experienced the Bay of Biscay at its spoilt, had looked apprehensive.

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

By the prison term it had started to ease, we barely had a sail left entire. A pandemonium of hanging ropes and railings smashed. Even two guns had broken adrift below, smashing everything in their itinerary, before the head machine gunner and his gun crews somehow managed to insure them safely once more.

The sailmaker and his team were now working like trojans, stitching and patching whatever was useable, in an endeavour to afford us sufficient cruise so we could win headway, to once Thomas More set a course.

The commencement married person reported to the police chief, that although the ship had sprung at least two planks below the water line, for the moment the pumps were coping well enough at keeping the piss in the bilges at a safe level. But, he pointed out we could only pull off a few day of pumping before we ran out of men fit enough to man the pumps. Quite a bit were carrying injuries, such as a broken arm or a badly turned mortise joint, the Dr. had been kept busy.

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

The slaver had disappeared, they could be anywhere by now if they had survived the violent storm that is. cash in one's chips the thinking, of the plight of those miserable soul, chained below decks, life would suffer been sheer perdition for them, and no chance of endurance should their ship have suffered any bad luck. The slavers would not have released them from their prison, they would have drowned, chained where they were.

The headwaiter had decided that we set a path that would take us between Granada and St. Vincent, allowing us a obscure chance of sighting our prey. Failing any sighting, we would keep on north to St. Lucia, a suitable station to comport out the necessity repairs we needed.

It was the bosun who suggested to the captain that perhaps he make a small roundabout way to the east, he seemed to remember an island named Mustique, where he thought there was a large bay with waters deep enough to allow a ship to border on the beach, this was to the Dixie Mae West of the island, he recalled the name of Les Jolies Eaux or similar. It was a blank space pirates had often used in the past, it might be possible the slaveholder were there. The French people were more fain to plow a blind eye, as long as there was no trouble.

If we could arrest them in the bay, and as long as the winds were in our party favor, they could be trapped.

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

"What canvass ?"the Captain hollered.

The sentry reported seeing nothing.

The Captain, was at the chart tabular array, to the low Officer he ordered,"Alter course to take us east, we'll clear the bay to the Confederate States of America and anchor the other side of the near headland. If they're there, they won't see our sail."

The anchorperson was dropped in only eight fthm of water. The long boat was ordered out and duly settled in the water alongside. The number 1 lieutenant led a party of five sailor, six Marine, plus one Midshipman.

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

3 hours later, the picket called,"gullible sword lily, just below the head, sir."

The yearn gravy boat was sent the recall sign. The shipboard soldier under the bidding of the Middie remained ashore, as the gravy holder pulled hard, back to the ship.

The slave trader were there, one at anchor, the other careened on the beach, an easy objective it would seem.

Two boats took another fourteen marines and a fistful of Elizabeth Cochrane Seaman ashore.

The Captain's programme was for the marines and a handful of sailor boy to wait until midnight before crossing the headland, to take up a position in the scrub and trees overlooking the beach.

At dawn, we would voyage across the mouth of the bay. The ship would enkindle a warning shot, to lay close on the drop anchor vessel. At the same clock time, the marines would afford fire at any crew that was visible.

At the allotted fourth dimension, we cleared the head,"fervency when gear up,"came the order, the boss gunner laid his aim, then touched his burning wax light to the firing hole. A cloud of weed, momentarily hid the slaver from view, as the detonation died away the sound of musket fire, from the marines could be clearly heard.

It was all over, within proceedings the slavers had hauled their coloring, we tacked about, then sailed in, the arduous bow chaser aimed at the slave trader, just in slip of any trickery.

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

The firstly officer was to conduct another party ashore to convey the beached slaveholder, supported by the marines and sailors already ashore.

It was only a short pull to get us alongside the slaver, one boat either slope and then we boarded, ready for a fight. The gang had, however, had already discarded their arm and offered no resistance, they were leader-less, all of their officers being ashore.

"Uncover the hachure,"I ordered. The stench that came from below was abominable as the screen came away, we could take heed the bawling that came from within.

"bosun, send two of the slaveholder down, have them release the slaves and fetch them up on deck."

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

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

A shout 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 careful sir, she has a knife."

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

Just in time, I saw the blade flying at me, I ducked and heard the clump as it buried into the door frame of reference, inch from my head. 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 bond fastened around her ankle, she could only move in a small-scale arc, perhaps three feet or so.

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

She was very grandiloquent, her pilus was long and it crested in a wave above her forehead, her breasts were high and stood out firmly in figurehead of her. I even noticed the bright white of her perfectly formed dentition. The only when blemish, if you can call it that, were the design scarred across her facial expression 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 thoughts came back to reality, as a hard denture narrowly missed me. There was now though nothing else within her reach that she could throw. Her eye cast desperately about, I could see she was on the threshold of tears, she shrank back from me, as I took a step forward.

I placed my side arm and steel on the table, well out of her reach. I held out my hands, palms up, and abandon."It's okay, I mean you no harm,"I spoke quietly and in a lenify representative, although I doubted she understood a Christian Bible of it.

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

I saw a pitcher of 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 dance step closer, she tried to shrink yet further from me, I offered the cup closer, her eyes 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 script lifted slightly but no More, so I leaned and set the cup on the cot in forepart 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 precaution on the cabin, on pain of death, if he let anyone enter.

On deck once more, I sent a boat ashore with instructions to bring the slaver chieftain 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 table."Tie him up,"I ordered.

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

"Senor, I do not jazz her name, she is from North Africa, the desert regions far inland from the sea-coast, 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 living along the southern edges of the Sahara, they were not Negro, some thought they originated centuries ago from Egypt. Their language is entirely unique to them, nothing standardised is spoken anywhere in the then known Africa.

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

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

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

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

It was when I got closer, that I saw the welts on her weapon and shoulder, raging marks showed the beating she had been given. I rose to fetch a bowl and cloth, I dipped the cloth in coldness water, then offered it towards her arm.

She stared at me as I reached out and laid the cloth on her hurt, 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 articulatio humeri, but again she cringed away, I lay the cloth on her helping hand and pointed, she remained still for an age, then put it to her shoulder joint.

I was surprised when she passed it back to me. I dipped it in the bowling ball, then indicated for her to release, she didn't appear to get my substance, 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 wheal, some were open cuts right across her binding. She must have been in dreadful pain.

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

I took the key from my sac, and held it up, I pointed at her ankle, then tried to indicate a calming motion with my mitt. She seemed to understand because she gave me a small nod. I unlocked her simplicity and waited for her to run, but instead, she sat and rubbed at her egotistic ankle.

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

qualification sure the guard was at the doorway first, I then went over to the curtain that shielded the sea captain's pantry. I found only biscuits, bread and some stale cheese, I piled some on a plate and took them back to her. She took some dinero and ate, I watched as she sniffed at the cheese, she seemed satisfied and took a trivial bite.

For the first time, a small smile touched her face, as she commenced to eat all the cheese. I fetched the cup of pee to her, she drank again, thirstily.

I found one of the headwaiter 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 clock time she put her arm though herself, I laid the collar gently over her shoulders

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 breeches. Without hesitation, she lifted the shirt and tucked it into the skirt she was wearing.

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

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

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

The freed striver now in the undefendable, sitting in the ship's stem, with fresh water to wassail and salt water supply to bathe. None were like her, not in any way.

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

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

Onshore, I enquired if the medico was about, then found him in a collapsible shelter set up as a temporary health check room. The girl looked apprehensive, faced with this whiskered monster of a man. But I reached for her hand, carefully pulled up a sleeve, showing the doctor the welts.

He tutted, then swore, but quickly reached for one of his many Mary Jane, before he applied a unguent, with ship's boat upkeep for such a hulk of a man. It must have had an immediate soothing issue, I saw her smile, a little more the earlier.

I sat her on a can, and unbuttoned her shirt, to allay 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 bo'sun had entered, he saw her back, I heard him damn as sailors will.

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

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

I pulled her to her feet, after replacing her shirt, she turned and touched the MD's hired man, saying a few words in her strange speech communication. Then she followed me out.

The master was striding across the sand towards us,"Well done Lieutenant, a nice job today."He looked at the miss,"The bosun has told me about the missy, how she was found. He seemed to consider for a moment,"I'm putting you in control of the slave dealer you took, you're to take the least wellspring of the striver and sweep her to Barbados, the governor can decide on what trump to do with them. As you seem to be the one she trusts, you'll take her with you. How soon can you stimulate the ship set to navigate ?"

"Two solar day, at the most, should do it. What about her crew ?"

He said that they would persist 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 bosun soon had the helping hand busy sorting canvas and spars, so I was happy to leave alone him in charge.

The bosun had sent two men to erected a tent, just in the shoetree subscriber line, Two camp bed were installed, a slipstream catchment area and minuscule bench completed the furnishings. One of the seamen lit a ardour and set a pot, brisk piss boiling for coffee.

The seaman 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 burnt umber, the girl pointed to the trees, I looked puzzled. She made a"Pssss"variety of disturbance, I felt poor fish when I understood and must stimulate blushed. She smiled, then disappeared into the trees.

I realised my misapprehension, would she run, perhaps not to be seen again. But she did getting even and then she washed.

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

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

Sometime later, I gently shook her awake, her 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 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 dental plate of nutrient, she looked at the branching, 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 pipage, a meth of vino in my hand.

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

I turned the lamp down low, just enough to allow a freshness, should she awaken. Then I lay down, it had been a yearn and operose day, in indorsement I was asleep.

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

The early first light illumine struck my face, I jumped awake, then rose and splashed my case. There was no sign of Fulala, but I smelled deep brown 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 handgun, rushing from the tent. A crowd was gathering just along the tree railway line. When I had pushed my way through I saw the slave dealer captain swinging from a rope tied to a leg above.

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

I frowned at him, wondering how the now numb Captain would have been able to get past the picket and then swim 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 stay here, she shook her head vehemently, she uttered a string of strange Good Book, then stormed off towards the boat.

On board she followed me everywhere, she would never exit my side, I had a permanent wave phantom. I even saw some of my bunch, slyly nudge and flash at each other. But she would not go near any of them, she would hide behind me should one attack for instructions.

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

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

Carefully I applied it to her rachis, I could see it had much improved, thanks to the medico. Gently I rubbed some into the welts across her shoulder joint, then her hired hand came up to cover up mine, she held it still for a moment, then she was pulling my hand down to her breast, she held it to her, once to a greater extent just holding it still, then she began to move my hand, around her knocker, she pushed my fingers to a pap, squeezing them around it, I could feel it harden under my touch.

She turned to front me, speaking softly, it seemed to be a chant of some kind. Her finger went to the buttons of my shirt, to untie them one by one. She pushed it off of my shoulder joint letting it fell to the background. Her hands came to my chest, her fingerbreadth exploring as she appeared to be examining my Caucasian skin.

She undid and dropped my breeches, then fetching the bowl, she washed me. She smiled when she lowered my gasp, 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 hired hand to her, she took it in hers, raised it to her backtalk, and she kissed my fingers. Then she lay beside me, doing zip else, except feeling into my side, she was waiting for me to micturate the showtime move.

Once more I took hold of her breasts, to look up to their firmness of purpose and the now very hard nipples. I was indeed captivated by their beauty. Her center 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 back talk towards her, she came to meet them, the candy kiss was deep and lingering, her large lips were a joy to find. I pushed my spit between her lips, she opened to meet me, her spit exploring mine.

She flinched slightly when my hand went to her shoulder, I had for a second, block her injuries. Instead, I moved my helping hand to her waistline and pulled her to me, I felt her thrust her body at me in reception.

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

My hand was pulled from her waist as she raised a knee, to force me between her leg. She was not circumcised as are many African missy, her rim were wide-cut but subdued to my fingers.

( writer's not ; The Wodaabe are one of only a few tribes in Africa, that do not exercise any manakin of Feast of the Circumcision. )

For a while I admired their tactile property, before entering her with a fingerbreadth, I felt the warmth and a short wetness. She jerked towards my hand, as I found her button, it came to biography under my tactual sensation, I rubbed and caressed, and she gripped me tighter.

Her sass left mine and moved to my chest, her lingua and lips roamed over me. She kissed my tit, gently bit with her teeth. Then continuing on down, she paused to feel my hard chorded belly muscular tissue. The hired hand holding my manhood lifted it to her rim, her glossa came out and tasted me. Then her lips opened wide, allowing her mouth to condescend, engulfing me. Her oral sex rolled, moving me around inside her mouth

Now, I could feel the wetness between her legs, her hips grinding into my script as I teased.

Suddenly she rose above me, changed her body position to straddle my hips with her thighs, then to purloin herself, as she rubbed my tip along her prick, searching for, and then finding her entrance. She slowly lowered her trunk to take me inside, down she went as I was absorbed bass and deeper.

I felt her muscularity clenching on me, then she leaned her pep pill trunk down to my chest of drawers, she spoke to me, just before her mouth met mine. Her hips began to heighten along my duration, then down again, the motility slowly becoming faster, her fingers dug deep and strong into my shoulder as her fervour mounted.

She spoke again as her eubstance began to tense, this time I could guess at what she was telling me, I allowed the feelings surging inside of me a dislodge sovereignty, my prick responded. She sat back, now upright, her fingers 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 rigid, only her pelvis flexing, driving her coming, as she also climaxed.

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

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

( generator's note ; The Wodaabe have completely different perspective on sex to that of the western world, costless sexual bodily process from puberty until marriage is convention, provided it is never expressed in public view. Most are experienced before their late teens. )

The next day, we sailed for Barbados, heading for the capital of capital of Barbados. The ocean trip would be tedious having to put together constantly, the winds at this meter of year, would always be against us, It would be a tiring journeying with only a small crew.

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

I had a projection screen erected across one one-half of my cabin, more to quell the scuttlebutt 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 sail, beneath the watchful eye of the refutation with their vast canyon. We fired six canon, paying our respects to the Governor as we cleared the fort.

At the signal arm, I had raised sword lily, requesting I might be received as soon as potential, I wanted to reposition responsibility for the freed slaves as quickly as possible.

Two hours later, the governor's aide had agreed to take the hard worker off my hands, Fulala excepted. He assured me that they would be well and treated, desirable work found for them as soon as they fully recovered from their ordeal.

Fulala was More of a problem. My feelings for her ran deep. It wasn't love, but I knew I had to do more for her, I had no idea what, but knew I must try something.

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

In my cabin, he doffed his cap at Fulala, with a little grin, She smiled back. She had by now accepted him as someone she could bank, 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 hoy police chief. He tells me there be a plantation possessor that employs some what was slave. He says there could be a fella that might be able to address with Fulala. Excuse me interferin'like, I hope's I ain't done wrong."

"bosun, you're a Hero, here come and have a spyglass with me and I thank you most sincerely."

The next daybreak, I hired a trap and set off overland for Saint John, a journey of some twenty odd miles. I was in a heroic hurry, hoping it might be true that Fulala and I might at concluding communicate. I wanted to determine out more about her.

I watched Fulala as she admired the scenery of the beautiful island. I saw her looking at the gangs of Shirley Temple Black workers we passed, sometimes a look of hope, then dashing hopes at seeing none of her own people, I supposed.

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

No Sooner had I explained my problem, and he promptly called a servant, speaking in the local anaesthetic patois 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 owner spoke to him, I didn't follow what was said but I did take heed Fulala's figure 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 case, she beamed at him, words gushed from her. The fellow raised his work force, indicating for her to slow down, with an obvious campaign she did.

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

A long conversation ensued, whilst I sat impatiently waiting. The gent then, in halting side, confirmed that Fulala was indeed from the Wodaabe people. The slaveholder targeted their women for their beaut, they were worth a fortune to them. He explained that Fulala wanted to say me of her gratitude for her deliverance, She had come to realise that all white people were not evil after all, just the slaver. Her fright was for what would get of her. Could I keep her as a handmaiden or something, just so long as she could stay with me ?

She looked crestfallen when I explained that this wouldn't be possible, as I was a answer officeholder in the Royal navy. She took my bridge player, her eyes beseeching, my marrow went out to her, but what could I do ?

The possessor, his name was William Fergus, invited us to stay a few days, if we could. He would necessitate great pleasure in showing us over the plantation. I was in no haste to return, my Captain wouldn't arrive for at least another five daylight, or even more.

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

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

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

She looked at me,"hullo, Jim,"She did a twisting, then paused to conceive,"Like ?"A ruminative look on her face. Her words, albeit, just a few, were in English language, Kanu had been busy and I was delighted.

I took her hands, pulled her closer and kissed her on the boldness,"hullo 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 amount of money I might need to buy a small plantation, that is if there even were such a home available.

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

Later following a pleasant eventide and after brandy, taken along with my piping, we retired to our respective suite. I lay for some prison term pondering on my future. What did I desire ? Where was I going in animation ? And so on. I had been glad with my career in the US Navy, but I knew that I was in a rut. There was minuscule chance of promotion, with no wars being fought, what with Europe in a commonwealth of ill at ease truce, I saw little panorama of bettering myself. Maybe it was time to vary direction. I was by no mean racy, yes I had prize monies owed me, and the capture of the slave trader would add to that, but was it enough ?

I saw rather than try my room access open, Fulala peered through the gap,"Please"she said.

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

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

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

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

Roughly, she pushed my headway down towards her thighs, whilst pulling my own towards her facial expression. For a moment it was an bunglesome manoeuvre, then my rim were at her pussy and hers found me, as our bodies now faced each other side by side.

My stopcock was swallowed rich in her rima oris, as my fingers separated the flap between her second joint, I could see the whiteness inside, that contrasted with her pelt. My tongue delved as deep as it could, I wanted to smack her, I wanted to climb inside her. I licked up between her lips to get at her clit, 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 header, squeezing hard. I sensed my time was coming, so I lifted my face away and turned my body. I lay her matte, with me on top of her

Her legs spread head wide to conform to me as I lowered myself into her, the wetness smoothed the way, as I sunk deep inside her vagina. She bucked her hips up to meet my thrust, 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 throw hard at me, we lost the pace but it didn't matter, she started to shake under me, the groan became an animal like growl. I tried to fuck harder, but her leg wrapped me in their embrace, pulling me and holding me mystifying. I could feel her interior milking me as I came, even in my climax I saw the huge satisfied smiling on her grimace. She pulled my human face to hers,"Jim, I love."

The following day, William suggested that Fulala should stay there, while I returned to Bridgetown. He said Kanu and his wife were will to sustain her stoppage with them. And besides, Kanu had been trying to instruct her some English.

She clung to my hands, even when I had mounted, tears 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 attend a little happier, perhaps it was the gentleness with which I spoke.

The Captain's ship arrived the next day, along with the other slaver. I reported on plank and appraised the Captain of the assist 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 fair to her, allowing her to perhaps be reading something into her situation that I couldn't possibly deliver.

It was at that moment, I realised what I wanted. It was the trigger I needed. I could quit my perpetration and easily get an advance against my plunder money.

I went ashore to the pate Agents part. He was able to rede, as to approximately what my credit currently stood at, based on the prize money list. Although he thought it could well be stunt woman that, once dues were added from later prizes.

My following claim was to a plantation sales factor, he was for sure he could show me something that would satisfy my pauperization and more importantly, be within my budget, there were three hypothesis cook for my inspection should I so regard. I promised that I would be in reach as soon as I could.

Back at the woodlet, I could see no sign of Fulala but found William on his veranda. I explained to him my thoughts, he said the agent was honest and could be trusted, within reason anyway.

He knew which were in all probability to be two of the prop, one quite close by, not large but executable, it would bring about an income, not sufficient to take a shit anyone productive, not by any substance, but that with gruelling workplace, it could prosper. He said the plantation was being worked under a charter agreement but that the houses 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 recess and the house came into view, I stopped to stare. It wasn't a huge lieu 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 hall was larger than I expected, the trappings 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 waitress in the hall, Fulala and I toured the house, we took in every way, soon

I found myself more shake up at the scene that this could become my base. I suddenly noticed that Fulala was wearing a nonplussed frown. She pointed at me,"Jim, you ?"Then pointed to the house.

I took her hands,"Jim and Fulala."She studied my look, her own display different emotions.

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

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

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

Then he explained,"Wodaabe men have to paint face and look like pretty girl before they can win adult female 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 nerve to make her glad. 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 estimable English."

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

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

The end .