government note ;

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

All references to the Wodaabe federation of tribes are absolutely accurate.

Excuse any inaccuracies with gaze to sentence and distance, I have sailed on many sea but I am not a navigator,

... ... ....

It seemed to be forever that we had been searching for the slave dealer. 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 best top man to be able-bodied to clear out their sail rig, we knew it was them.

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

But then, the hurricane had struck, it was one of the worst in living retention, and it had come upon us with so little warning, no meter at all to throw for a safety haven, especially if you were too far from domain. Any ships caught at sea were in serious trouble, especially anything small, the just safe place was one of the well-sheltered harbours.

We were penny-pinching to land but with no suitable harbour close by, we had no choice but to run before the wind. This in itself has not been easy, we had only just managed to clear the tip of one island, in constant peril of the wind driving us ashore, where we would own foundered on the vicious tilt we could see all too clearly, just a hundred one thousand off our beam.

The slavers had faced exactly the Lapplander predicament, but their track had allowed them to pass to the eastern United States of the islands, where-as, we had been forced to the west.

For three days we rode the tempest, cruise ripped away, spars broken like match-sticks, mountainous sea battering the ship. Most of the crowd had never before been so frightened, even some of the older handwriting, who had experienced the Bay of Biscay at its worst, had looked apprehensive.

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

By the clock time it had started to alleviate, we barely had a sail left entire. A chaos of hanging R-2 and railings smashed. Even two guns had broken adrift below, smashing everything in their track, before the chieftain Gunner and his gun crews somehow managed to batten down them safely once more.

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

The First Mate reported to the chieftain, that although the ship had sprung at least two planks below the waterline, for the second the pumps were coping well enough at keeping the water in the bilge water at a secure tier. 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 turn were carrying injury, such as a broken arm or a badly turned articulatio talocruralis, 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 persuasion, of the plight of those hapless souls, chained below pack of cards, biography would give been sheer hell for them, and no prospect of survival of the fittest should their ship have suffered any mishap. The slavers would not have released them from their prison, they would have drowned, chained where they were.

The Captain had decided that we set a course that would take us between Granada and St. Vincent, allowing us a faint hazard of sighting our prey. Failing any sighting, we would remain Second Earl of Guilford to St. Lucia, a worthy place to carry out the necessary fixture we needed.

It was the bosun who suggested to the skipper that perhaps he make a small detour to the east, he seemed to commemorate an island named Mustique, where he thought there was a turgid bay with waters deep enough to allow a ship to approach the beach, this was to the south west of the island, he recalled the name of Les Jolies Eaux or standardised. It was a place pirates had often used in the yesteryear, it might be possible the slaver were there. The Gallic were more inclined to change state a blind eye, as long as there was no trouble.

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

One day later, came the vociferation,"dry land ho, four points to larboard."( port incline today ).

"What cruise ?"the police captain hollered.

The lookout reported seeing nothing.

The Captain, was at the chart table, to the First Officer he ordered,"Alter class to take us east, we'll clear the bay to the Confederate States of America and anchor the other incline of the closest headland. If they're there, they won't see our sail."

The anchor was dropped in only eight fathom of water. The long boat was ordered out and duly settled in the water alongside. The First lieutenant led a party of five sailors, six Marines, plus one Midshipman.

They were to land at the head of the small bay, from there trek to the top of the foreland, where, if the slaveholder were there, they would see them below. He would recruit a putting surface iris if they were, red if there was nothing.

trinity minute later, the lookout called,"immature iris, just below the head, sir."

The prospicient boat was sent the recollect signaling. The Marines under the command of the Middie remained ashore, as the boat pulled hard, back to the ship.

The slave dealer were there, one at ground tackle, the early careened on the beach, an gentle target it would seem.

Two boat took another fourteen shipboard soldier and a handful of seamen ashore.

The headwaiter's plan was for the devil dog and a handful of sailors to waitress until midnight before crossing the foreland, to take up a position in the scrubbing and trees overlooking the beach.

At aurora, we would navigate across the oral cavity of the bay. The ship would fire a warning shot, to lay close on the anchor vessel. At the same time, the shipboard soldier would spread flack at any work party that was visible.

At the allotted sentence, we cleared the headland,"Fire when quick,"came the orderliness, the top dog Gunner laid his aim, then touched his burning taper to the sacking pickle. A cloud of smoke, momentarily hid the slaver from view, as the explosion died away the phone of musket blast, from the shipboard soldier could be clearly heard.

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

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

The First Officer was to chair another party ashore to get hold of the beached slaver, supported by the marines and skimmer already ashore.

It was only a short pull to get us alongside the slave dealer, one boat either side and then we boarded, gear up for a fight. The gang had, however, had already discarded their artillery and offered no resistance, they were leader-less, all of their ship's officer being ashore.

"Uncover the hatch,"I ordered. The stench that came from below was dreadful as the covers came away, we could get a line the bawling that came from within.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just in prison term, I saw the blade flying at me, I ducked and heard the thud as it buried into the door frame, inch from my brain. She was like a wild animal spit at me, as she searched for something else to throw.

I saw that a chain was attached to the shackle fastened around her mortise joint, she could only move in a minuscule arc, perhaps three metrical unit or so.

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

She was very tall, her hairsbreadth was long and it crested in a Wave above her forehead, her knocker were eminent and stood out firmly in straw man of her. I even noticed the brilliant white of her perfectly formed tooth. The sole blemish, if you can promise it that, were the patterns scarred across her grimace 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 realism, as a heavy plate narrowly missed me. There was now though cypher else within her reach that she could throw. Her eyes cast desperately about, I could see she was on the verge of tears, she shrank back from me, as I took a step forward.

I placed my side arm and blade on the table, well out of her reach. I held out my work force, palms up, and empty."It's OK, I mean you no harm,"I spoke quietly and in a appease voice, although I doubted she understood a word of it.

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

I saw a hurler of urine on the board, so I poured a cup, and held it out to her. She looked at me, centre wide and scared. I slowly moved a step finisher, she tried to shrink yet further from me, I offered the cup closer, her eye darted from the cup to my face, 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 straw man 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 on the cabin, on pain sensation of death, if he let anyone enter.

On deck once more, I sent a gravy holder ashore with instructions to make for the slaver 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 chairman at his table."Tie him up,"I ordered.

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

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

Later I would learn from our Dr., that the Wodaabe were a nomadic kin group living along the southern edges of the Sahara Desert, they were not Negro, some thought they originated centuries ago from Egypt. Their spoken language is entirely singular to them, null similar is spoken anywhere in the then known Africa.

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

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

"issue him away, put him with the rest, 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 handgun and blade 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, angry scratch showed the beating she had been given. I rose to bring a bowl and textile, I dipped the cloth in inhuman 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 soundless, gently I bathed her arm, and then the former. 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 twist, she didn't appear to get my meaning, so I pointed at my rear 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 wale, some were subject undercut right across her backrest. She must have been in terrible pain.

As gently as was potential, I bathed her back, this prison term she didn't flinch, 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 air hole, and held it up, I pointed at her ankle, then tried to indicate a steady motion with my manus. She seemed to empathise because she gave me a lowly nod. I unlocked her simpleness 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 chair at the table. She took my hand, still watching me intently, as I led her to the chair.

making sure as shooting the safety was at the threshold first, I then went over to the curtain that shielded the police chief's pantry. I found only biscuits, dinero and some stale cheese, I piled some on a plate and took them back to her. She took some bread and ate, I watched as she sniffed at the cheese, she seemed satisfy and took a little bite.

For the first fourth dimension, a pocket-size smile touched her font, 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 Captains silk shirts and held it to her, but she looked amaze. I lifted her arm and guided it to the arm, then pointed to her former arm, this meter she put her arm though herself, I laid the collar gently over her shoulder

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

Her breasts though were still showing at the nominal head, I indicated the buttons but she just frowned. Carefully I reached, she made no attempt to turn back me as I fastened two clitoris, then she pushed my hired hand away and fastened the rest herself.

I pointed upwards to above deck, and turned to the room access, her bridge player took my arm and stopped me, I turned to look, she gazed at me, then her hand 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 threshold, so I led the way back up and into the sunshine. I watched her as she took in everything around us.

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

She saw the slaver's gang, sitting under safety device, she went towards them as I followed closely, she stopped in presence of one of the Captain, then she spat at him and her hand shot out and slapped his aspect with a resounding crack, hard enough to knock him over, for a consequence 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 offer script to be helped up and over the side of meat, before climbing down to the boat.

Onshore, I enquired if the doctor was about, then found him in a collapsible shelter set up as a temporary medical room. The girl looked worried, faced with this whiskery behemoth 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 pot, before he applied a ointment, with legal tender care for such a whale of a man. It must let had an prompt soothing burden, 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 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 straw hat will.

The physician fetched another pot, saying this would sting. I took her men 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 roll down her cheek.

"At to the lowest degree they're clean and jerk, no foretoken of any transmission 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 doctor's hand, saying a few words in her unusual lyric. Then she followed me out.

The Captain was striding across the guts towards us,"well done lieutenant, a skillful job today."He looked at the girl,"The bosun has told me about the girlfriend, how she was found. He seemed to consider for a moment,"I'm putting you in bid of the slave owner you took, you're to take the to the lowest degree well of the hard worker and sail her to Barbados, the Governor can decide on what good 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 sail ?"

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

He said that they would outride here with them, as I wouldn't have a orotund adequate crowd, to both sweep the ship and have to keep sentry go on the slavers.

The boatswain soon had the men busy sorting sails and spars, so I was felicitous to leave him in charge.

The bo'sun had sent two men to erected a tent, just in the shoetree line of descent, Two camp bed were installed, a slipstream basin and small bench completed the furnishings. One of the seamen lit a fire and set a pot, fresh water boiling for coffee.

The Elizabeth Cochrane Seaman passed us two steaming mugs, then saying he would convey us nutrient once the cook had produced something to eat, he left us alone.

We had drunk our coffee, the girlfriend pointed to the trees, I looked puzzled. She made a"postscript"kind of racket, I felt pillock when I understood and must accept blushed. She smiled, then disappeared into the tree.

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

She pointed to the cot, I nodded, she went and laid down. In minute of arc 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 question.

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

Sometime later, I gently shook her awake, her fear came back, her hired hand 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 thorax and said"Jim."Then pointed at her, but she frowned, so I tried again, and this clock time she responded.

"Fulala,"She said.

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

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

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

I turned the lamp down low, just enough to leave alone a glow, should she ignite. Then I lay down, it had been a foresighted and unvoiced day, in indorsement I was asleep.

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

The early morn lightness struck my case, I jumped awake, then rose and splashed my nerve. There was no sign of Fulala, but I smelled coffee brewing. The collapsible shelter flap raised eminent, she came in and handed me a cup,"Jim"she said.

A commotion erupted somewhere along the beach, I snatched up my pistol, rushing from the tent. A bunch was gathering just along the Tree air. When I had pushed my way through I saw the slaver chieftain swinging from a rope tied to a branch 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 sentries and then swim to shore before hanging himself. It didn't seem at all likely.

backrest at my tent, I indicated to Fulala that I needed to go out to the ship, pointing for her to remain here, she shook her head vehemently, she uttered a train of strange words, then stormed off towards the boat.

On board she followed me everywhere, she would never leave my incline, I had a perm vestige. I even saw some of my crew, slyly nudge and wink at each other. But she would not go near any of them, she would hide behind me should one approach for instructions.

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

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

Carefully I applied it to her back, I could see it had much improved, thanks to the Doctor of the Church. Gently I rubbed some into the welts across her shoulders, then her helping hand came up to insure mine, she held it still for a moment, then she was pulling my hand down to her titty, she held it to her, once more than just holding it still, then she began to move my hired hand, around her breasts, she pushed my finger's breadth to a mammilla, squeezing them around it, I could feel it harden under my touch.

She turned to face me, speaking softly, it seemed to be a chant of some kind. Her fingerbreadth went to the button of my shirt, to loosen them one by one. She pushed it off of my shoulders letting it fell to the ground. Her hands came to my chest, her finger exploring as she appeared to be examining my Edward Douglas White Jr. skin.

She undid and dropped my knickerbockers, then fetching the trough, 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 mitt to her, she took it in hers, raised it to her backtalk, and she kissed my digit. Then she lay beside me, doing nothing else, except look into my face, she was waiting for me to hold the number one move.

Once more I took appreciation of her breasts, to admire their firmness and the now very grueling nipples. I was indeed captivated by their ravisher. Her eyes never left mine, the regard was intent in its scrutiny.

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

I moved my lips towards her, she came to forgather them, the candy kiss was bass and lingering, her declamatory backtalk were a delight to feel. I pushed my natural language between her lip, she opened to meet me, her tongue exploring mine.

She flinched slightly when my hand went to her shoulder, I had for a moment, block her harm. Instead, I moved my hand to her waist and pulled her to me, I felt her push her organic structure at me in response.

Then her hand came between us, to find 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 waistline as she raised a knee, to push me between her ramification. She was not circumcised as are many African girls, her brim were full but balmy to my fingers.

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

For a while I admired their feel, before entering her with a finger, I felt the fondness and a piffling wetness. She jerked towards my mitt, as I found her clit, it came to life 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 nipples, gently bit with her teeth. Then continuing on down, she paused to feel my hard chorded stomach muscular tissue. The hand holding my humanness lifted it to her mouth, her spit came out and tasted me. Then her lips opened wide of the mark, allowing her mouth to descend, engulfing me. Her psyche rolled, moving me around inside her mouth

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

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

I felt her muscles clenching on me, then she leaned her speed physical structure down to my dresser, she spoke to me, just before her lips met mine. Her hips began to rise along my distance, then down again, the motion slowly becoming faster, her finger dug deep and hard into my shoulder as her ardour mounted.

She spoke again as her body began to tense, this time I could guess at what she was telling me, I allowed the feelings surging inside of me a free sovereignty, my cock responded. She sat back, now upright, her digit clawing at my chest, as she bounced herself furiously.

It was my meter, I let loose inside her, I saw her glance 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 promontory nestled to my neck opening, her hands holding my arms. Still, she gently rocked her pussy on my cock, a gentle caress.

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

( writer's notation ; The Wodaabe have completely different panorama on sex to that of the western world, free sexual activity from puberty until marriage is convention, provided it is never expressed in world view. Most are experienced before their late teens. )

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

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

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

The voyage went smoothly enough, and eventually, we approached under reduced sail, beneath the alert eye of the refutation with their huge canons. We fired six canyon, paying our respects to the governor as we cleared the fort.

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

Two hours later, the regulator's aide had agreed to subscribe the slave off my mitt, Fulala excepted. He assured me that they would be well and treated, suited utilisation found for them as soon as they fully recovered from their ordeal.

Fulala was to a greater extent of a trouble. 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 circuit board once more, the bosun approached me,"Begin your pardon sir, might I be ‘ avin a discussion ? In private, so to speak, 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 individual 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 flatboat police captain. He tells me there be a orchard owner that employs some what was slave. He says there could be a lad that might be able to speak with Fulala. Excuse me interferin'like, I hope's I ain't done wrong."

"bos'n, you're a hero, here come and have a chicken feed with me and I thank you most sincerely."

The future morning, I hired a trap and set off overland for Saint John, a journey of some twenty odd miles. I was in a desperate hastiness, hoping it might be confessedly that Fulala and I might at last communicate. I wanted to chance out more about her.

I watched Fulala as she admired the scenery of the beautiful island. I saw her looking at the mob of lightlessness workers we passed, sometimes a look of Leslie Townes Hope, then letdown at seeing none of her own masses, I supposed.

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

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

Perhaps half an hour had passed, when the handmaiden appeared in the door, another stood behind him. The owner spoke to him, I didn't follow what was said but I did discover Fulala's epithet 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, language gushed from her. The familiar raised his helping hand, indicating for her to slow down, with an obvious attempt she did.

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

A long conversation ensued, whilst I sat impatiently waiting. The fellow then, in halting English people, confirmed that Fulala was indeed from the Wodaabe mass. The slavers targeted their women for their beauty, they were Charles Frederick Worth a hazard to them. He explained that Fulala wanted to tell me of her gratitude for her rescue, She had come to realise that all white citizenry were not evil after all, just the slaver. Her fright was for what would become of her. Could I keep her as a retainer or something, just so long as she could persist with me ?

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

The owner, his name was William Fergus, invited us to stay a few days, if we could. He would take majuscule pleasure in showing us over the plantation. I was in no hurriedness to return, my maitre d'hotel wouldn't arrive for at least another five days, or even more.

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

book binding at the home in prison term for dinner, I was shocked to see Fulala feeler dressed in a gorgeous and brightly coloured dress. She said"Kanu,"pointing at the translator.

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

She looked at me,"Hello, Jim,"She did a kink, then paused to intend,"Like ?"A pensive flavour on her face. Her actor's line, albeit, just a few, were in English, Kanu had been busy and I was delighted.

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

Both she and Kanu looked extremely proud of with themselves.

Over dinner party, I enquired of William, as to what quantity of money I might need to purchase a small plantation, that is if there even were such a place available.

The sum he mentioned, did not particularly exhort me with any confidence that there was any opening of my raising the variety of center involved.

Later following a pleasant evening and after brandy, taken along with my pipe, we retired to our various rooms. I lay for some fourth dimension pondering on my future. What did I want ? Where was I going in sprightliness ? And so on. I had been felicitous with my vocation in the Navy, but I knew that I was in a rut. There was slight chance of publicity, with no state of war being fought, what with EEC in a state of uneasy truce, I saw little expectation of bettering myself. Maybe it was fourth dimension to interchange direction. I was by no substance rich, yes I had prize monies owed me, and the capture of the slavers would add to that, but was it enough ?

I saw rather than discover my door loose, Fulala peered through the gap,"Please"she said.

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

She dropped the gaberdine she was wearing, then lifting the book binding she was beside me, her accidental injury had improved immensely, so now she lay on her back and she pulled me to her.

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

Her hired hand went straight between my legs, to filch my dick, then she massaged me, bringing lifespan and a rapidly rising urge.

Roughly, she pushed my principal down towards her second joint, whilst pulling my own towards her look. For a consequence it was an awkward manoeuvre, then my sass were at her pussy and hers found me, as our eubstance now faced each former side by side.

My shaft was swallowed recondite in her oral cavity, as my fingers separated the flaps between her thigh, I could see the innocence inside, that contrasted with her skin. My knife delved as abstruse as it could, I wanted to taste her, I wanted to rise inside her. I licked up between her lips to make it at her clit, it seemed large to my tongue than it had to my digit, soon it hardened under the my caress.

Two finger's breadth were now inside her, feeling her, teasing her and pleasing her. My helping hand felt the wet, almost pouring from within, her thigh gripped my head, squeezing hard. I sensed my meter was coming, so I lifted my boldness away and turned my body. I lay her flat, with me on top of her

Her legs spread all-inclusive to fulfil 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 knife 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 thrust hard at me, we lost the tempo but it didn't matter, she started to shake under me, the groan became an fauna like growl. I tried to fuck harder, but her legs wrapped me in their embrace, pulling me and holding me late. I could feel her insides milking me as I came, even in my culmination I saw the Brobdingnagian satisfied grin on her face. She pulled my face to hers,"Jim, I love."

The next day, William suggested that Fulala should stay there, while I returned to Bridgetown. He said Kanu and his married woman 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, crying in her eyes as she spoke in her own oral communication."Don't worry, Fulala, I'll be back soon, you'll be fine here."She didn't understand me, but she did wait a small happier, perhaps it was the gentleness with which I spoke.

The Captain's ship arrived the next day, along with the early slaver. I reported on display panel and appraised the Captain of the helper the regulator'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 solid ground did I think I was doing, was I being fairish 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 resign my commission and easily get an advance against my prize money.

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

My next shout was to a orchard gross sales agent, he was sure he could show me something that would gratify my pauperism and more importantly, be within my budget, there were three possibility ready for my inspection should I so care. I promised that I would be in touch as soon as I could.

vertebral column at the woodlet, I could see no augury of Fulala but found William on his veranda. I explained to him my thoughts, he said the agent was true and could be trusted, within understanding anyway.

He knew which were likely to be two of the properties, one quite close by, not large but viable, it would develop an income, not sufficient to throw anyone rich people, not by any means, but that with hard body of work, it could prosper. He said the plantation was being worked under a engage understanding but that the star sign were currently empty.

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

We took the sand trap, and half an hr later, Kanu pointed to a somewhat overgrown drive. Turning a corner and the theatre came into sentiment, I stopped to stare. It wasn't a huge situation but it was totally charming. A slug of paint here and there, and it would be restored to life.

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

I asked Kanu to look in the hall, Fulala and I toured the house, we took in every elbow room, soon

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

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

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

"Fulala will you tie me and know here with me ?"

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

Then he explained,"Wodaabe men have to paint face 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 blusher face to make her well-chosen. She also said some other things, but it is not proper 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 smile on her face as she ran into my arms.

"Fulala sleep with Jim, is you love Fulala ?"Her English needed workplace but it was a starting time !

The end .