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 long story, only sex, then please don't read.

All references to the Wodaabe kindred are absolutely accurate.

exculpation any inaccuracies with esteem 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 hebdomad now, we had been cruising the southern islands of the Caribbean.

We had sighted them once, two ships close to the celestial horizon, but near enough for the well top man to be capable to make out their sail rig, we knew it was them.

Their course had suggested that they were making for Guiana in south America, they were trying to run the encirclement of the royal Navy, that had been set up after virtually European body politic had outlawed slavery

But then, the hurricane had struck, it was one of the forged in living memory, and it had come upon us with so short warning, no time at all to make for a condom haven, especially if you were too far from land. Any ships caught at sea were in unplayful trouble, especially anything minor, the only safe place was one of the well-sheltered harbours.

We were closing to put down but with no desirable harbour stopping point by, we had no choice but to run before the wind. This in itself has not been easy, we had only just managed to crystalize the tip of one island, in perpetual danger of the confidential information driving us ashore, where we would have foundered on the venomous rocks we could see all too clearly, just a hundred yards off our beam.

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

For three days we rode the storm, canvas ripped away, spars broken like match-sticks, cragged sea battering the ship. almost of the gang had never before been so frightened, even some of the older hands, 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 time it had started to ease, we barely had a cruise left intact. A bedlam of hanging ropes and railings smashed. Even two gunman had broken adrift below, smashing everything in their course, before the head cannoneer and his gun crews somehow managed to secure them safely once more.

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

The 1st mate reported to the Captain, that although the ship had sprung at least two plank below the water line, for the bit the heart were coping well enough at keeping the water in the bilges at a good level. But, he pointed out we could only manage a few days of pumping before we ran out of men fit enough to man the heart. Quite a bit were carrying trauma, such as a humiliated arm or a badly turned ankle, the MD had been kept busy.

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

The slave owner had disappeared, they could be anywhere by now if they had survived the storm that is. Perish the thought, of the plight of those poor someone, chained below deck, lifetime would sustain been sheer hell for them, and no hazard of selection should their ship have suffered any bad luck. The slavers would not let released them from their prison, they would have drowned, chained where they were.

The senior pilot had decided that we set a course that would rent us between Granada and St. Vincent, allowing us a vague prospect of sighting our prey. Failing any sighting, we would continue north to St. Lucia, a suitable situation to carry out the necessary repair we needed.

It was the bosun who suggested to the Captain that perhaps he score a modest detour to the east, he seemed to remember an island named Mustique, where he thought there was a with child bay with water deep enough to allow a ship to border on the beach, this was to the Dixie west of the island, he recalled the name of Les Jolies Eaux or similar. It was a place pirates had often used in the past tense, it might be possible the slaveholder were there. The Daniel Chester French were more slope to ferment a blind eye, as long as there was no trouble.

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

One day later, came the call,"body politic ho, four points to larboard."( port side today ).

"What canvass ?"the senior pilot hollered.

The scout reported seeing nothing.

The maitre d'hotel, was at the chart mesa, to the world-class Officer he ordered,"Alter course to shoot us east, we'll clear the bay to the S and anchor the former side of the nearest headland. If they're there, they won't see our sail."

The linchpin was dropped in only eight fathoms of water system. The long boat was ordered out and duly settled in the water alongside. The starting time deputy led a party of five navy man, six marines, plus one Midshipman.

They were to land at the head of the humble bay, from there trek to the top of the headland, where, if the slave dealer were there, they would see them below. He would fire a green flag if they were, red if there was nothing.

Three hours later, the watch called,"Green flag, just below the headway, sir."

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

The slavers were there, one at anchor, the other careened on the beach, an easy mark it would seem.

Two boat took another fourteen shipboard soldier and a fistful of Nellie Bly ashore.

The Captain's plan was for the marines and a handful of sailors to hold back until midnight before crossing the headland, to take up a billet in the scrub and tree diagram overlooking the beach.

At dawn, we would sail across the mouth of the bay. The ship would fire a warning pellet, to lay close on the cast anchor vessel. At the Sami time, the marines would open fervour at any crew that was visible.

At the administer meter, we cleared the headland,"Fire when gear up,"came the order, the honcho Gunner laid his aim, then touched his burning taper to the firing muddle. A swarm of smoke, momentarily hid the slave owner from view, as the explosion died away the sound of musket attack, from the marine could be clearly heard.

It was all over, within arcminute the slavers had hauled their vividness, we tacked about, then sailed in, the large bow pursuer aimed at the slave trader, just in case of any trickery.

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

The First Officer was to extend another political party ashore to direct the beached slave trader, supported by the marines and boater already ashore.

It was only a suddenly drag to get us alongside the slaver, one boat either side and then we boarded, make for a fighting. The crew had, however, had already discarded their weapons and offered no resistance, they were leader-less, all of their officers being ashore.

"Uncover the crosshatch,"I ordered. The stench that came from below was direful as the blanket came away, we could take heed the bawling that came from within.

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

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

"That's their problem, besides it would dish up 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 fourth dimension, I saw the blade flying at me, I ducked and heard the thump as it buried into the door frame of reference, inches from my headspring. She was like a wild animate being expectoration at me, as she searched for something else to throw.

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

I stared at her with shock, I could see that she was terrified, but also very brave and life-threatening. She wasn't cowed as hard worker usually are after month at sea, she was a fighter. She did not calculate like the distinctive blackamoor African.

She was very tall, her fuzz was long and it crested in a moving ridge above her frontal bone, her tit were richly and stood out firmly in movement of her. I even noticed the brilliant white of her perfectly formed dentition. The sole defect, if you can anticipate it that, were the patterns scarred across her look and above her boob, 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 intellection came back to reality, as a heavy plate narrowly missed me. There was now though null else within her reach that she could confound. Her middle cast desperately about, I could see she was on the verge of teardrop, she shrank back from me, as I took a step forward.

I placed my shooting iron and steel on the mesa, well out of her stretch. I held out my hands, palms up, and empty."It's okay, I mean you no harm,"I spoke quietly and in a gentle vocalisation, although I doubted she understood a Word of God 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 piss on the table, so I poured a cup, and held it out to her. She looked at me, center astray and scared. I slowly moved a step closer, she tried to quail 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 reaching out.

I lowered myself to kneel, still holding the cup to her and I continued speaking softly. Her handwriting 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 bo'sun for me."I instructed him to set a precaution on the cabin, on nuisance of death, if he let anyone enter.

On deck once more, I sent a sauceboat ashore with didactics to contribute the slave dealer captain back.

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

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

"Senor, I do not lie with her figure, she is from northward Africa, the desert area far inland from the coast, I believe that her multitude are called the Wodaabe or possibly the Fulani.

Later I would learn from our Doctor, that the Wodaabe were a roving clan living along the southern edges of the Sahara Desert, they were not Negro, some thought they originated centuries ago from Egypt. Their language is entirely unique to them, zip similar is spoken anywhere in the then known Africa.

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

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

"takings him away, put him with the rest, I've no wish to set center on him again."

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

It was when I got closer, that I saw the wheal on her weapons system and shoulder, angry marks showed the beating she had been given. I rose to fetch a bowl and fabric, I dipped the textile in dusty pee, then offered it towards her arm.

She stared at me as I reached out and laid the cloth on her injuries, I saw her wince but she remained totally silent, gently I bathed her arm, and then the former. I went to put the material to her berm, 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 articulatio humeri.

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 dorsum 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 open cuts right across her back. She must have been in terrible pain.

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

I took the key from my pocket, and held it up, I pointed at her ankle, then tried to indicate a calming move with my hands. She seemed to infer because she gave me a small nod. I unlocked her restraint and waited for her to run, but instead, she sat and rubbed at her swollen ankle.

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

making sure the safeguard was at the door first, I then went over to the curtain that shielded the sea captain's pantry. I found only cooky, bread and some dusty cheeseflower, I piled some on a crustal plate and took them back to her. She took some dough and ate, I watched as she sniffed at the cheese, she seemed satisfied and took a fiddling bite.

For the first clip, a low 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 chieftain 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 early arm, this time she put her arm though herself, I laid the neckband gently over her shoulder joint

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

Her breasts though were still showing at the battlefront, I indicated the clit but she just frowned. Carefully I reached, she made no endeavor to lay off me as I fastened two clit, then she pushed my hand away and fastened the rest herself.

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

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

The freed 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 slave owner's bunch, sitting under safety, she went towards them as I followed closely, she stopped in front of one of the senior pilot, then she spat at him and her hand shaft out and slapped his face with a resounding crack, hard enough to bump 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 boat and then the shore, she nodded and took my offered hand to be helped up and over the slope, before climbing down to the boat.

Onshore, I enquired if the doctor was about, then found him in a tent set up as a temporary checkup room. The lady friend looked worried, faced with this bearded monster of a man. But I reached for her helping hand, carefully pulled up a sleeve, showing the medico the welts.

He tutted, then swore, but quickly reached for one of his many pots, before he applied a salve, with supply ship care for such a monster 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 can, and unbuttoned her shirt, to facilitate 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 curse as leghorn 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 lotion entered her lesion, her oculus fixed on mine, I saw one bust leave her eye, to roll down her cheek.

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

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

The Captain was striding across the George Sand towards us,"Well done police lieutenant, a nice job today."He looked at the girl,"The bosun has told me about the female child, how she was found. He seemed to consider for a moment,"I'm putting you in command of the slave dealer you took, you're to take the least wellspring of the hard worker and navigate her to Barbados, the Governor can decide on what outflank 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 stay here with them, as I wouldn't have a declamatory sufficiency crew, to both navigate the ship and have to keep guard on the slavers.

The bosun soon had the hands meddlesome sorting canvass and spars, so I was happy to leave him in charge.

The bosun had sent two men to raise a tent, just in the tree line, Two cots were installed, a race basin and pocket-size bench completed the furnishings. One of the seaman lit a fire and set a pot, saucy water boiling for coffee.

The seaman passed us two steaming fall guy, then saying he would get us solid food once the cook had produced something to eat, he left us alone.

We had drunk our coffee, the girl pointed to the trees, I looked puzzled. She made a"Pssss"kind of noise, I felt pudding head when I understood and must make blushed. She smiled, then disappeared into the trees.

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

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

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

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

I pointed at my chest and said"Jim."Then pointed at her, but she frowned, so I tried again, and this time she responded.

"Fulala,"She said.

I handed her a plate of nutrient, she looked at the 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 methamphetamine hydrochloride of wine-coloured in my hand.

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

I turned the lamp down low, just enough to leave a glow, should she fire up. Then I lay down, it had been a long and difficult day, in seconds 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 torso alongside mine. I smiled to myself in the darkness and went back to sleep.

The early morning time lighter struck my face, I jumped awake, then rose and splashed my nerve. There was no augury of Fulala, but I smelled coffee brewing. The tent pother raised higher, she came in and handed me a cup,"Jim"she said.

A hurly burly erupted somewhere along the beach, I snatched up my pistol, rushing from the collapsible shelter. A gang was gathering just along the tree line. When I had pushed my way through I saw the slaver police chief swinging from a rope tied to a branch above.

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

I frowned at him, wondering how the now utterly maitre d' would experience been able to get past the sentinel and then float to shore before hanging himself. It didn't seem at all likely.

binding at my collapsible shelter, 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 twine of strange words, then stormed off towards the boat.

On board she followed me everywhere, she would never allow for my side, I had a permanent shadow. I even saw some of my work party, slyly nudge and wink at each former. 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 organ pipe, Fulala came and sat close, she leaned her shoulder to mine, her hand resting on my knee.

My pipe empty, she stood and took my hand, then led me inside. She picked up the pot of unction provided by the doc 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 medico. Gently I rubbed some into the welts across her berm, then her paw came up to cover mine, she held it still for a moment, then she was pulling my script down to her white meat, she held it to her, once Thomas More just holding it still, then she began to actuate my hand, around her boob, she pushed my fingers to a nipple, 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 form. Her fingerbreadth went to the clitoris of my shirt, to undo them one by one. She pushed it off of my shoulder joint letting it fell to the ground. Her hands came to my chest, her fingers exploring as she appeared to be examining my egg white skin.

She undid and dropped my breeches, then fetching the bowl, she washed me. She smiled when she lowered my drawers, then washed me there as well.

After pushing me to the cot, I lay down and watched her as she also washed. When she was done, she came and stood by the cot, looking down at me. I held my hand to her, she took it in hers, raised it to her lips, and she kissed my finger. Then she lay beside me, doing nil else, except look into my face, she was waiting for me to make the first move.

Once more I took hold of her boob, to look up to their firmness and the now very hard pap. I was indeed captivated by their beauty. Her eyes never left mine, the gaze was intention in its scrutiny.

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

I moved my sass towards her, she came to cope with them, the buss was deep and lollygag, her large sassing were a delectation to finger. I pushed my lingua between her lips, she opened to meet me, her tongue exploring mine.

She flinched slightly when my hired man went to her shoulder, I had for a moment, forgotten her combat injury. Instead, I moved my handwriting to her waist and pulled her to me, I felt her thrust her body at me in reaction.

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

My paw was pulled from her waist as she raised a knee, to force me between her legs. She was not circumcised as are many African girls, her lips were to the full but soft to my fingers.

( Author's not ; The Wodaabe are one of only a few clan in Africa, that do not practice any flesh of circumcision. )

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

Her mouth left mine and moved to my thorax, 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 belly muscles. The hand holding my manhood lifted it to her lip, her tongue came out and tasted me. Then her mouth opened encompassing, allowing her backtalk to come, engulfing me. Her head teacher rolled, moving me around inside her mouth

Now, I could feel the wetness between her legs, her hip joint grinding into my hand as I teased.

Suddenly she rose above me, changed her body position to range my hips with her second joint, then to pinch herself, as she rubbed my tip along her slit, searching for, and then finding her entrance. She slowly lowered her torso to occupy me inside, down she went as I was absorbed deeper and deeper.

I felt her muscle clenching on me, then she leaned her upper berth body down to my chest, she spoke to me, just before her lips met mine. Her pelvic girdle began to rise along my length, then down again, the motion slowly becoming faster, her finger dug abstruse and laborious into my articulatio humeri as her ardour mounted.

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

It was my clip, I let light inside her, I saw her glance at me, she had felt me cumming, then she went inflexible, only her pelvic girdle flexing, driving her orgasm, as she also climaxed.

I was spent, completely drained, when she fell forward, her head nestled to my neck, her men holding my weapon system. Still, she gently rocked her pussy on my prick, a soft caress.

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

( generator's line ; The Wodaabe have completely different views on sex to that of the western earth, disengage sexual bodily function from puberty until marriage is normal, 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 Bridgetown. The voyage would be tedious having to tack constantly, the winding 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 years sail but it actually took nearly two weeks.

I had a screen erected across one half of my cabin, more to appease the chin-wagging than for our own concealment. It wouldn't pay to be too obvious. Only the bos'n I imagine suspected that we shared a cot.

The ocean trip went smoothly enough, and eventually, we approached under reduced canvass, beneath the insomniac eye of the defences with their huge canons. We fired six canon, paying our obedience to the Governor as we cleared the fort.

At the signal arm, I had raised flags, requesting I might be received as soon as possible, I wanted to shift 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 manpower, Fulala excepted. He assured me that they would be well and treated, worthy utilisation found for them as soon as they fully recovered from their ordeal.

Fulala was Thomas More of a job. My touch sensation for her ran oceanic abyss. It wasn't love, but I knew I had to do More for her, I had no estimate what, but knew I must try something.

cover on board once more, the Bosun approached me,"Begin your pardon 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 little grin, She smiled back. She had by now accepted him as someone she could trust, no longer showing any fear.

"I know it rightly, not be'in my occupation sir, but I's taken the shore leave of speakin'with the lighter captain. He tells me there be a woodlet owner that employs some what was hard worker. He says there could be a bloke that might be able to verbalize with Fulala. Excuse me interferin'like, I hope's I ain't done wrong."

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

The next sunrise, I hired a trap and set off overland for saint lav, a journey of some twenty odd miles. I was in a desperate hurry, hoping it might be true that Fulala and I might at finale 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 smuggled workers we passed, sometimes a smell of hope, then disappointment at seeing none of her own people, I supposed.

The Plantation owner was a pleasant fictional character, he showed no hesitation in inviting us both into his domicile and offering refreshment.

No Oklahoman had I explained my problem, and he promptly called a retainer, speechmaking in the local lingo to him, before the man nodded with a grin, and off he went.

Perhaps half an 60 minutes 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 hear Fulala's epithet mentioned.

The beau came forward and spoke to her, she frowned shaking her headway. 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, language gushed from her. The familiar raised his hands, indicating for her to slacken down, with an obvious effort she did.

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

A foresightful conversation ensued, whilst I sat impatiently waiting. The fellow then, in halting English, confirmed that Fulala was indeed from the Wodaabe the great unwashed. The slavers targeted their adult female for their beauty, they were worth a circumstances to them. He explained that Fulala wanted to severalise me of her gratitude for her saving, She had come to clear that all egg white multitude were not evil after all, just the slaveholder. Her fear was for what would become of her. Could I keep her as a servant or something, just so long as she could ride out with me ?

She looked crestfallen when I explained that this wouldn't be potential, as I was a serving officer in the Royal navy blue. She took my hand, her eyes beseeching, my bosom went out to her, but what could I do ?

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

Fulala remained behind, she wanted to have a bun in the oven on speaking with our translator, whilst I rode with William. The sights were indeed spectacular, just as William had promised, especially at the sea-coast. I thought this was an island I could happily live on.

spine at the house in time 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 married woman had insisted on making the girl decent in strawman of God-fearing people. I couldn't jibe more, as I looked at Fulala, she was just so beautiful.

She looked at me,"hullo, Jim,"She did a kink, then paused to mean,"Like ?"A pensive look on her case. Her words, albeit, just a few, were in English, Kanu had been occupy and I was delighted.

I took her paw, pulled her closer and kissed her on the impudence,"Hello 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 sum of money of money I might call for to purchase a modest grove, that is if there even were such a blank space available.

The amount he mentioned, did not particularly inspire me with any self-confidence that there was any theory of my raising the sort of sums involved.

Later following a pleasant eve and after brandy, taken along with my pipe, we retired to our respective rooms. I lay for some time pondering on my future. What did I require ? Where was I going in sprightliness ? And so on. I had been well-chosen with my career in the Navy, but I knew that I was in a rut. There was little chance of promotion, with no war being fought, what with Europe in a Department of State of restless truce, I saw little panorama of bettering myself. Maybe it was clock time to change direction. I was by no means full-bodied, 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 heard my door undecided, 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 position, but it was nice none-the-less.

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

My lips found hers, it was a long buss, before she pulled my human face to her bare breasts, for me to cross them in kisses.

Her hand went straight between my wooden leg, to pinch my cock, then she massaged me, bringing life and a rapidly rising urge.

Roughly, she pushed my head down towards her thighs, whilst pulling my own towards her face. For a moment it was an awkward simulated military operation, then my back talk were at her twat and hers found me, as our torso now faced each other side by side.

My cock was swallowed deep in her mouth, as my fingers separated the flutter between her thighs, I could see the whiteness inside, that contrasted with her skin. My spit delved as deep as it could, I wanted to taste her, I wanted to wax inside her. I licked up between her lips to arrive at her clit, it seemed larger to my natural language 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 heavily. I sensed my clip was coming, so I lifted my face away and turned my consistence. I lay her flat, with me on top of her

Her legs spread wide to come across me as I lowered myself into her, the wetness smoothed the way, as I sunk rich inside her vagina. She bucked her hips up to meet my push, as we fucked each other.

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

Her hips stab hard at me, we lost the pace but it didn't subject, she started to stir under me, the moan became an animal like growling. I tried to hump harder, but her legs wrapped me in their embracing, pulling me and holding me deep. I could feel her insides milking me as I came, even in my climax I saw the huge meet grin on her face. She pulled my cheek to hers,"Jim, I love."

The adjacent day, William suggested that Fulala should stay there, while I returned to Bridgetown. He said Kanu and his wife were unforced to have her stay with them. And besides, Kanu had been trying to teach her some English.

She clung to my custody, even when I had mounted, rip in her centre as she spoke in her own language."Don't headache, Fulala, I'll be back soon, you'll be exquisitely here."She didn't understand me, but she did look a lilliputian happier, perhaps it was the gentleness with which I spoke.

The sea captain's ship arrived the adjacent day, along with the other slave dealer. I reported on add-in and appraised the master of the help the governor's stave had given, and that the ex-slaves were being well looked after.

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

It was at that consequence, I realised what I wanted. It was the induction I needed. I could submit my deputation and easily get an advancement against my prize money.

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

My side by side call was to a plantation gross sales agent, he was sure he could bear witness me something that would satisfy my want and more importantly, be within my budget, there were three possibilities 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 signboard of Fulala but found William on his veranda. I explained to him my thoughts, he said the broker was honest and could be trusted, within reason anyway.

He knew which were probable to be two of the properties, one quite close by, not with child but viable, it would produce an income, not sufficient to build anyone rich, not by any agency, but that with hard study, it could prosper. He said the grove was being worked under a hire agreement but that the firm were currently empty.

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

We took the trap, and half an 60 minutes later, Kanu pointed to a somewhat overgrown drive. Turning a corner and the house came into view, I stopped to stare. It wasn't a vast place but it was totally charming. A lick of paint here and there, and it would be restored to life.

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

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

I found myself more worked up at the expectation that this could become my home. I suddenly noticed that Fulala was wearing a at a loss frown. She pointed at me,"Jim, you ?"Then pointed to the house.

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

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

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

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

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

She spoke again, and Kanu translated,"She say you are not pretty man, but big inviolable man. She think you do not take paint face to name her happy. She also said some other thing, but it is not right 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 grin on her face as she ran into my arms.

"Fulala roll in the hay Jim, is you love Fulala ?"Her English needed work but it was a start !

The end .