Note ;

This is not just a sex story, it is more a novella, that contains explicit sex, so be advised, if you don't want a prospicient story, only sex, then delight don't read.

All references to the Wodaabe tribe are absolutely accurate.

alibi any inaccuracies with regards 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 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 sufficiency for the best top man to be able-bodied to make out their cruise rig, we knew it was them.

Their trend had suggested that they were making for Guiana in South America, they were trying to run the encirclement of the royal naval forces, 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 storage, and it had come upon us with so picayune warning, no sentence at all to produce for a good harbour, especially if you were too far from land. Any ships caught at sea were in serious bother, especially anything small, the only safe place was one of the well-sheltered harbours.

We were close to land but with no desirable harbour close by, we had no choice but to run before the wind. This in itself has not been prosperous, we had only just managed to clear the tip of one island, in perpetual peril of the hint driving us ashore, where we would have foundered on the reprehensible rock'n'roll we could see all too clearly, just a one hundred railway yard off our beam.

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

For three daylight we rode the storm, sheet ripped away, spars broken like match-sticks, hilly seas battering the ship. Most of the crew had never before been so frightened, even some of the Old hands, who had experienced the Bay of Biscay at its regretful, had looked apprehensive.

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

By the time it had started to ease, we barely had a sail left entire. A chaos of hanging roach and railings smashed. Even two guns had broken adrift below, smashing everything in their way, before the Chief gunner and his gun crews somehow managed to secure them safely once more.

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

The world-class Mate reported to the Captain, that although the ship had sprung at least two board below the waterline, for the second the pumps were coping well enough at keeping the water in the bilges at a good floor. But, he pointed out we could only wield a few daylight of pumping before we ran out of men fit enough to man the pumps. Quite a issue were carrying injuries, such as a broken arm or a badly turned ankle, the doctor had been kept busy.

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

The slavers had disappeared, they could be anywhere by now if they had survived the storm that is. buy the farm the thought process, of the plight of those inadequate souls, chained below deck, spirit would have been sheer blaze for them, and no opportunity of survival should their ship have suffered any mishap. The slaver would not experience released them from their prison, they would have drowned, chained where they were.

The Captain had decided that we set a course of instruction that would take us between Granada and St. Vincent, allowing us a vague fortune of sighting our target. Failing any sighting, we would uphold north to St. Lucia, a suitable place to carry out the necessary mend we needed.

It was the boatswain who suggested to the Captain that perhaps he score a small detour to the east, he seemed to remember an island named Mustique, where he thought there was a large bay with waters deep enough to 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 plagiarist had often used in the past, it might be possible the slavers were there. The French were more inclined to turn a screen eye, as long as there was no trouble.

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

One day later, came the yell,"Land ho, four percentage point to larboard."( porthole side today ).

"What canvass ?"the skipper hollered.

The watch reported seeing nothing.

The Captain, was at the chart board, to the First Officer he ordered,"Alter grade to take us east, we'll clear the bay to the Confederacy and anchor the former side of the nearest headland. If they're there, they won't see our sail."

The anchor was dropped in only eight fthm of water. The recollective boat was ordered out and duly settled in the H2O alongside. The First Lieutenant led a political party of five sailors, six marines, plus one Midshipman.

They were to shoot down at the drumhead 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 prove a leafy vegetable flag if they were, red if there was nothing.

III hours later, the lookout called,"cat valium flag, just below the head, sir."

The long boat 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 dealer were there, one at anchor, the other careened on the beach, an easy aim it would seem.

Two boat took another XIV marines and a handful of seamen ashore.

The Captain's plan was for the marines and a handful of boater to wait until midnight before crossing the headland, to make up a status in the chaparral and Tree overlooking the beach.

At dawn, we would sail across the mouth of the bay. The ship would open fire a word of advice shot, to lay close on the anchored watercraft. At the like fourth dimension, the marines would open firing at any crew that was visible.

At the allotted time, we cleared the foreland,"fervour when quick,"came the fiat, the top dog machine gunner laid his aim, then touched his burning candle to the lighting mess. A cloud of gage, momentarily hid the slave owner from persuasion, as the explosion died away the sound of musket fire, from the marines 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 slave trader, just in lawsuit of any trickery.

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

The foremost policeman was to lead another company ashore to take the beached slave owner, supported by the marines and sailors already ashore.

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

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

"bo's'n, send two of the slaver down, have them bring out the hard worker and fetch them up on deck."

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

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

A outcry came from the Captain's companionway."Sir, I think you needs be seein'this."He led the way to the senior pilot 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 thud as it buried into the door physical body, inches from my head. She was like a wild fleshly spitting at me, as she searched for something else to throw.

I saw that a chain was attached to the hamper fastened around her ankle, she could only motivate in a minuscule arc, perhaps three substructure or so.

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

She was very tall, her whisker was long and it crested in a wave above her forehead, her tit were high school and stood out firmly in movement of her. I even noticed the brilliant gabardine of her perfectly formed teeth. The merely blemish, if you can send for it that, were the patterns scarred across her face and above her tit, 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 weighty plate narrowly missed me. There was now though nothing 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 pistol and steel on the table, well out of her reach. I held out my hands, palms up, and abandon."It's OK, I mean you no impairment,"I spoke quietly and in a gentle voice, although I doubted she understood a Scripture 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 water system on the table, so I poured a cup, and held it out to her. She looked at me, eyes wide and scared. I slowly moved a step closer, she tried to recoil yet further from me, I offered the cup finisher, her middle darted from the cup to my face, then back again, but she didn't orbit out.

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

I called out of the cabin,"Fetch the bosun for me."I instructed him to come in a guard on the cabin, on annoyance of dying, if he let anyone enter.

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

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

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

"Senor, I do not have it away her name, she is from North Africa, the desert regions far inland from the coast, I believe that her people are called the Wodaabe or possibly the Fulani.

Later I would instruct from our doctor, that the Wodaabe were a peregrine tribe aliveness along the southerly sharpness of the Sahara, they were not Negro, some thought they originated centuries ago from Egypt. Their language is entirely unique to them, nothing similar is spoken anywhere in the then known Africa.

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

"Senor, choose care, she is very dangerous."But he indicated a draw.

"issue him away, put him with the rest, I've no bid to set eyes on him again."

I retrieved the key, I turned and showed it to her. I called the lookout man 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 instant she was free.

It was when I got closer, that I saw the weal on her limb and shoulder joint, angry German mark showed the drubbing she had been given. I rose to fetch a pipe bowl and fabric, I dipped the cloth in coldness body of 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 mum, gently I bathed her arm, and then the other. I went to put the fabric to her shoulder, but again she cringed away, I lay the material 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 bowl, then indicated for her to turn, she didn't appear to get my meaning, so I pointed at my backrest 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 clear gash right across her back. She must give been in severe pain.

As gently as was potential, I bathed her back, this sentence she didn't flinch, not in the slightest. I tapped her arm, and she turned back to face me. There was a tone 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 calming motion with my hands. She seemed to sympathise because she gave me a small nod. I unlocked her chasteness and waited for her to run, but instead, she sat and rubbed at her intumesce ankle.

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

devising certain the sentry duty was at the threshold first, I then went over to the curtain that shielded the sea captain's larder. I found only biscuits, lettuce 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 satisfied and took a small bite.

For the initiative clip, a small 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 senior pilot 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 collar gently over her articulatio humeri

She stood and looked into the mirror and studied her reflection, I pointed to my own shirt, showing her how it was tucked into my breeches. Without indisposition, she lifted the shirt and tucked it into the wench she was wearing.

Her knocker though were still showing at the front man, I indicated the clit but she just frowned. Carefully I reached, she made no attempt to stop me as I fastened two buttons, then she pushed my hired hand away and fastened the rest herself.

I pointed upwards to above deck, and turned to the threshold, her hand took my arm and stopped me, I turned to look, she gazed at me, then her script came up, her fingers touched my buttock, 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 sunshine. I watched her as she took in everything around us.

The liberate slaves now in the overt, sitting in the ship's bow, with clean water to toast and salt H2O to bathe. None were like her, not in any way.

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

I led her to the side, pointed to the gravy boat and then the shoring, she nodded and took my offered handwriting to be helped up and over the side, before climbing down to the boat.

Onshore, I enquired if the MD was about, then found him in a tent set up as a impermanent medical elbow room. The little girl looked apprehensive, faced with this whiskery monster of a man. But I reached for her script, carefully pulled up a sleeve, showing the physician the welts.

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

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

The MD 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 imprecate as sailors will.

The Doctor of the Church fetched another pot, saying this would sting. I took her hands 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 roll down her cheek.

"At least they're clean, no signal of any transmission at the minute, but I'll need to check them again tomorrow."

I pulled her to her animal foot, after replacing her shirt, she turned and touched the doctor's hand, saying a few quarrel in her strange language. Then she followed me out.

The master was striding across the sand towards us,"wellspring done Lieutenant, a prissy job today."He looked at the girlfriend,"The bosun has told me about the girl, how she was found. He seemed to debate for a moment,"I'm putting you in dictation of the slaver you took, you're to direct the least well of the slave and sail her to Barbados, the regulator can decide on what near to do with them. As you seem to be the one she trusts, you'll consider her with you. How soon can you have the ship set to sweep ?"

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

He said that they would stay here with them, as I wouldn't have a large enough crew, to both sail the ship and have to stay fresh guard on the slavers.

The bo's'n soon had the paw busy sorting canvas and spar, so I was glad to bequeath him in charge.

The bosun had sent two men to erected a tent, just in the tree line of credit, Two cots were installed, a backwash drainage area and small terrace completed the trappings. One of the seamen lit a fire and set a pot, fresh piddle boiling for coffee.

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

We had drunk our deep brown, the female child pointed to the trees, I looked puzzled. She made a"PS"kind of noise, I felt stupid when I understood and must have blushed. She smiled, then disappeared into the trees.

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

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

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

Sometime later, I gently shook her awake, her fear came back, her hands raised to strike out at me, then awareness dawned on her face, she took my deal 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 fourth dimension she responded.

"Fulala,"She said.

I handed her a home base 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.

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

I turned the lamp down low, just enough to provide a gleaming, should she awake. Then I lay down, it had been a long 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 chest, I felt her torso alongside mine. I smiled to myself in the darkness and went back to sleep.

The early aurora lite struck my face, I jumped awake, then rose and splashed my face. There was no signboard of Fulala, but I smelled coffee brewing. The tent flap raised higher, she came in and handed me a cup,"Jim"she said.

A din erupted somewhere along the beach, I snatched up my handgun, rushing from the tent. A crowd was gathering just along the tree line. When I had pushed my way through I saw the slave dealer chieftain swinging from a R-2 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 abruptly maitre d'hotel would have been able-bodied to get past the sentries and then drown to prop up before hanging himself. It didn't seem at all likely.

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

On gameboard she followed me everywhere, she would never forget my side, I had a permanent wave trace. I even saw some of my crew, slyly nudge and nictitation 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 spell, once more with my pipe, Fulala came and sat close, she leaned her shoulder to mine, her hand resting on my knee.

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

Carefully I applied it to her back, I could see it had much improved, thanks to the doctor. Gently I rubbed some into the welts across her shoulders, then her hand came up to cover mine, she held it still for a bit, then she was pulling my hand down to her boob, she held it to her, once more just holding it still, then she began to prompt my hand, around her chest, she pushed my fingers to a pap, squeezing them around it, I could finger 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 clitoris of my shirt, to undo them one by one. She pushed it off of my shoulders letting it fell to the ground. Her deal came to my chest, her fingerbreadth exploring as she appeared to be examining my ashen skin.

She undid and dropped my rear of tube, then fetching the bowlful, 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 rim, and she kissed my finger. Then she lay beside me, doing nada else, except look into my face, she was waiting for me to arrive at the first move.

Once More I took hold of her boob, to admire their firmness and the now very unvoiced nipple. I was indeed captivated by their knockout. Her heart never left mine, the regard was design 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 cope with them, the kiss was oceanic abyss and lingering, her expectant lips were a delight to feel. I pushed my glossa between her lips, she opened to meet me, her tongue exploring mine.

She flinched slightly when my paw went to her shoulder, I had for a instant, forgotten her injuries. Instead, I moved my hand to her waistline and pulled her to me, I felt her push her body at me in answer.

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

My hired hand was pulled from her shank as she raised a knee, to fight me between her legs. She was not circumcised as are many African girlfriend, her lips were full but diffused to my fingers.

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

For a spell I admired their feel, before entering her with a fingerbreadth, I felt the affectionateness and a minuscule wetness. She jerked towards my helping hand, as I found her clit, it came to lifespan under my touch, I rubbed and caressed, and she gripped me tighter.

Her backtalk left mine and moved to my chest, her spit and rim roamed over me. She kissed my nipples, gently bit with her teeth. Then continuing on down feather, she paused to feel my hard chorded stomach heftiness. The hand holding my manhood lifted it to her mouth, her tongue came out and tasted me. Then her lips opened wide, allowing her mouth to descend, engulfing me. Her heading rolled, moving me around inside her mouth

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

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

I felt her heftiness clenching on me, then she leaned her upper berth organic structure down to my thorax, she spoke to me, just before her sass met mine. Her pelvic girdle began to rise along my length, then down again, the movement slowly becoming faster, her fingers dug deep and hard into my articulatio humeri as her ardour mounted.

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

It was my clip, I let loose inside her, I saw her glance at me, she had felt me cumming, then she went strict, only her hips flexing, driving her sexual climax, as she also climaxed.

I was spent, completely drained, when she fell forward, her head nestled to my neck opening, her helping hand holding my coat of arms. Still, she gently rocked her pussy on my cock, a soft caress.

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

( Author's bank bill ; The Wodaabe have completely dissimilar views on sex to that of the western worldly concern, free sexual bodily function from puberty until wedding is normal, provided it is never expressed in world view. to the highest degree are experienced before their late teens. )

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

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

I had a screen erected across one half of my cabin, more to quell the gossip than for our own privacy. It wouldn't pay to be too obvious. Only the bo's'n 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 defences with their vast canon. We fired six canon, 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 potential, I wanted to pitch responsibility for the freed slaves as quickly as possible.

Two time of day later, the Governor's aide had agreed to rent the slave off my bridge player, Fulala excepted. He assured me that they would be well and treated, suitable engagement found for them as soon as they fully recovered from their ordeal.

Fulala was Sir Thomas More of a job. My feelings for her ran oceanic abyss. It wasn't passion, but I knew I had to do Thomas More for her, I had no approximation what, but knew I must try something.

Back on board once more, the Bosun approached me,"Menachem 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 trivial smile, She smiled back. She had by now accepted him as somebody 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 senior pilot. He tells me there be a plantation owner that employs some what was slaves. He says there could be a fella that might be able to talk with Fulala. Excuse me interferin'like, I hope's I ain't done wrong."

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

The next forenoon, I hired a maw and set off overland for angel Saint John the Apostle, a journey of some twenty dollar bill odd miles. I was in a do-or-die hurry, hoping it might be confessedly 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 gangs of melanize actor we passed, sometimes a look of hope, then disappointment at seeing none of her own masses, I supposed.

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

No sooner had I explained my job, and he promptly called a servant, public speaking in the topical anesthetic cant to him, before the man nodded with a grinning, and off he went.

Perhaps half an minute had passed, when the servant appeared in the room access, another stood behind him. The possessor spoke to him, I didn't follow what was said but I did get word Fulala's figure mentioned.

The fellow came forward and spoke to her, she frowned shaking her oral sex. He spoke again, in what was quite obviously a different language.

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

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

A longsighted conversation ensued, whilst I sat impatiently waiting. The fellow then, in halting English, confirmed that Fulala was indeed from the Wodaabe people. The slavers targeted their woman for their dish, they were worth a fortune to them. He explained that Fulala wanted to narrate me of her gratitude for her delivery, She had come to realise that all white citizenry were not evil after all, just the slave dealer. Her reverence was for what would become of her. Could I hold her as a servant or something, just so long as she could stick around with me ?

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

The owner, his name was William Fergus, invited us to stay a few twenty-four hour period, if we could. He would take great pleasure in showing us over the plantation. I was in no hurry to reelect, my Captain wouldn't arrive for at least another five days, or even more.

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

backbone at the family in metre for dinner, I was shocked to see Fulala approach 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 fille decent in front of god-fearing people. I couldn't consort to a greater extent, as I looked at Fulala, she was just so beautiful.

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

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

The amount of money he mentioned, did not particularly inspire me with any confidence that there was any possibility of my raising the sort of sum total involved.

Later following a pleasant evening and after brandy, taken along with my organ pipe, we retired to our respective rooms. I lay for some meter pondering on my future. What did I want ? Where was I going in life story ? And so on. I had been happy with my career in the navy, but I knew that I was in a rut. There was petty fortune of packaging, with no war being fought, what with EEC in a state of uneasy armistice, I saw little prospect of bettering myself. Maybe it was time to shift guidance. I was by no mean value rich, yes I had prize monies owed me, and the gaining control of the slave dealer would add to that, but was it enough ?

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

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

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

My lips found hers, it was a foresighted kiss, before she pulled my look to her bare breast, for me to hatch them in kisses.

Her deal went straight between my legs, to swipe my putz, then she massaged me, bringing lifespan and a rapidly rising urge.

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

My peter was swallowed deep in her mouth, as my fingers separated the flapping between her thigh, I could see the white inside, that contrasted with her pelt. My tongue delved as inscrutable as it could, I wanted to savor her, I wanted to climb inside her. I licked up between her lips to arrive at her clit, it seemed larger to my tongue than it had to my fingers, soon it hardened under the my caress.

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

Her legs spread all-inclusive 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 meet my driving force, as we fucked each other.

"Jim, Jim, Jim,"was all she said, then she was moaning softly, her finger pulling my haircloth. Just as she always did, her consistence tensed, so I knew her culmination was close.

Her hips thrust hard at me, we lost the pacing but it didn't subject, she started to shake under me, the moan became an animal like growl. I tried to jazz harder, but her pegleg wrapped me in their embracement, pulling me and holding me late. I could feel her insides milking me as I came, even in my climax I saw the Brobdingnagian satisfied smiling on her side. She pulled my face to hers,"Jim, I love."

The next day, William suggested that Fulala should stay there, while I returned to capital of Barbados. He said Kanu and his married woman were volition to birth her hitch with them. And besides, Kanu had been trying to teach her some English.

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

The Captain's ship arrived the next day, along with the other slaver. I reported on board and appraised the Captain of the help the Governor's staff had given, and that the ex-slaves were being well looked after.

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

It was at that import, 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 jacket crown Agents bureau. He was able to counsel, as to approximately what my credit currently stood at, based on the dirty money money lean. Although he thought it could well be double over that, once dues were added from later prizes.

My next call was to a plantation gross revenue factor, he was sure he could show me something that would satisfy my motivation 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 touch as soon as I could.

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

He knew which were likely to be two of the attribute, one quite closely by, not prominent but viable, it would produce an income, not sufficient to make up anyone rich, not by any means, but that with toilsome work, it could flourish. He said the woodlet was being worked under a lease agreement but that the houses were currently empty.

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

We took the trap, and half an hour later, Kanu pointed to a somewhat grow over drive. Turning a turning point and the sign of the zodiac came into position, I stopped to stare. It wasn't a immense place but it was totally charming. A lick of paint here and there, and it would be restored to life.

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

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

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

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

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

"Fulala will you get married me and last here with me ?"

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

Then he explained,"Wodaabe men have to paint face and flavor 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 paint 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 better English."

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

"Fulala hump Jim, is you love Fulala ?"Her side needed piece of work but it was a outset !

The end .