Note ;

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

All references to the Wodaabe kin are absolutely accurate.

exculpation any inaccuracies with regards to time and space, 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 visible horizon, but near enough for the dear top man to be able to make out their sail rig, we knew it was them.

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

But then, the hurricane had struck, it was one of the worst in living memory, and it had come upon us with so petty warning, no time at all to name for a safe haven, especially if you were too far from land. Any ships caught at sea were in serious trouble, especially anything belittled, the only prophylactic berth was one of the well-sheltered harbours.

We were close to set down but with no suitable harbour close by, we had no choice but to run before the wind. This in itself has not been tardily, we had only just managed to clear the tip of one island, in never-ending danger of the winding driving us ashore, where we would have foundered on the deplorable rocks we could see all too clearly, just a one C yards off our beam.

The slave trader had faced exactly the Saami quandary, but their course of action had allowed them to fall to the east of the islands, where-as, we had been forced to the west.

For three daytime we rode the storm, sheet ripped away, spars broken like match-sticks, craggy ocean battering the ship. Most of the crowd had never before been so panicky, even some of the older hands, who had experienced the Bay of Biscay at its defective, had looked apprehensive.

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

By the meter it had started to still, we barely had a canvass left intact. A pandemonium of hanging ropes and rail smashed. Even two guns had broken adrift below, smashing everything in their path, before the gaffer machine gunner and his gun crews somehow managed to plug them safely once more.

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

The First Mate reported to the senior pilot, that although the ship had sprung at least two planks below the waterline, for the present moment the pumps were coping well enough at keeping the H2O in the bilges at a safety level. But, he pointed out we could only manage a few days of pumping before we ran out of men fit decent to man the heart. Quite a number were carrying injuries, such as a broken arm or a badly turned ankle, the doctor had been kept busy.

We needed to make a landfall where the ship could be careened, to tolerate mending 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. Perish the thought, of the predicament of those wretched souls, chained below deck, life would induce been sheer sin for them, and no hazard of survival should their ship have suffered any misadventure. The slave trader would not have released them from their prison, they would have drowned, chained where they were.

The maitre d'hotel had decided that we set a course that would learn us between Granada and St. Vincent, allowing us a wispy chance of sighting our prey. Failing any sighting, we would continue due north to St. Lucia, a suitable berth to carry out the essential repairs we needed.

It was the bo's'n who suggested to the Captain that perhaps he gain a modest detour to the Orient, he seemed to remember an island named Mustique, where he thought there was a orotund bay with waters deep enough to allow a ship to approach the beach, this was to the S Rebecca 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, it might be possible the slaver were there. The French were more fain to turn a blind eye, as long as there was no trouble.

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

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

"What sail ?"the Captain hollered.

The picket reported seeing nothing.

The headwaiter, was at the chart board, to the first off police officer he ordered,"Alter course to take us east, we'll clear the bay to the south and ground the former side of the nearest headland. If they're there, they won't see our sail."

The anchor was dropped in only eight fathoms of water system. The farsighted boat was ordered out and duly settled in the water supply alongside. The firstly Lieutenant led a party of five leghorn, six marines, plus one Midshipman.

They were to bring down at the head of the small bay, from there trek to the top of the head, where, if the slave owner were there, they would see them below. He would raise a green flag if they were, red if there was nothing.

ternion time of day later, the lookout called,"Green iris, just below the head, sir."

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

The slavers were there, one at ground tackle, the other careened on the beach, an gentle target it would seem.

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

The Captain's plan was for the marines and a smattering of straw hat to wait until midnight before crossing the headland, to engage up a military position in the scrub and Tree overlooking the beach.

At dawn, we would voyage across the mouthpiece of the bay. The ship would fire a warning dig, to lay close on the anchored vessel. At the Same time, the marines would open flack at any crew that was visible.

At the allotted sentence, we cleared the foreland,"flak when ready,"came the order, the Chief cannoneer laid his aim, then touched his burning wick to the kindling kettle of fish. A cloud of heater, momentarily hid the slave owner from view, as the explosion died away the speech sound of musket fire, from the devil dog could be clearly heard.

It was all over, within minutes the slaveholder had hauled their colours, we tacked about, then sailed in, the intemperate bow chaser aimed at the slave owner, just in case of any trickery.

The captain turned to me,"takings a boarding political party Lieutenant, two gravy holder I think will do, and secure that slaver."

The First policeman was to lead another party ashore to take the beached slaver, supported by the marine and Panama already ashore.

It was only a abruptly twist to get us alongside the slaver, one sauceboat either incline and then we boarded, fix for a fight. The work party had, however, had already discarded their weapons and offered no resistor, they were leader-less, all of their officers being ashore.

"Uncover the hatches,"I ordered. The stench that came from below was dreadful as the covers came away, we could listen the wailing that came from within.

"bo'sun, send two of the slavers down, have them release the slaves and fetch them up on deck."

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

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

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

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

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

Just in time, I saw the steel flying at me, I ducked and heard the thud as it buried into the door frame, inch from my head. She was like a wild animal spitting 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 strike in a small arc, perhaps three feet or so.

I stared at her with daze, I could see that she was terrified, but also very brave and severe. She wasn't cowed as hard worker usually are after months at sea, she was a fighter. She did not look like the typical Negro African.

She was very improbable, her hair was long and it crested in a undulation above her forehead, her titty were high and stood out firmly in forepart of her. I even noticed the brilliant white of her perfectly formed teeth. The only if blemish, if you can call it that, were the patterns scarred across her expression 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 thinking came back to reality, as a heavy plateful narrowly missed me. There was now though nothing else within her reaching that she could hurl. Her optic cast desperately about, I could see she was on the threshold of tears, she shrank back from me, as I took a step forward.

I placed my pistol and blade on the table, well out of her compass. I held out my hands, palms up, and empty-bellied."It's OK, I mean you no harm,"I spoke quietly and in a gentle phonation, although I doubted she understood a Good Book 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 mound of water system on the table, so I poured a cup, and held it out to her. She looked at me, eye wide and scared. I slowly moved a step closer, she tried to funk yet further from me, I offered the cup finisher, her eyes 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 mitt 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 site a precaution on the cabin, on pain of death, if he let anyone enter.

On deck once more, I sent a gravy boat ashore with instructions to bring the slaver 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 mesa."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 know her public figure, 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 get a line from our doctor, that the Wodaabe were a nomadic tribe support along the southerly edges of the Sahara, they were not Negro, some thought they originated centuries ago from Egypt. Their language is entirely singular to them, nothing similar is spoken anywhere in the then known Africa.

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

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

"yield him away, put him with the rest, I've no regard 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 shooting iron and sword outside. Then, I approached the cot, with the key held out, I still thought that she might try and run the mo she was free.

It was when I got closer, that I saw the welt on her weaponry and shoulders, angry German mark showed the beating she had been given. I rose to fetch a stadium and textile, I dipped the cloth in cold urine, 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 other. I went to put the cloth to her shoulder, but again she cringed away, I lay the cloth on her hand and pointed, she remained still for an age, then put it to her shoulder joint.

I was surprised when she passed it back to me. I dipped it in the trough, then indicated for her to change by reversal, she didn't appear to get my import, so I pointed at my back and then at her.

Again she stared, but then, slowly she turned her back to me. I was horrified at what I saw, these weren't just weal, some were open deletion right across her back. She must bear been in fearful pain.

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

I took the key from my air pocket, and held it up, I pointed at her articulatio talocruralis, then tried to indicate a calming motion with my men. She seemed to sympathize because she gave me a lowly nod. I unlocked her chasteness 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 manus, still watching me intently, as I led her to the chair.

making for sure the guard was at the door first, I then went over to the drapery that shielded the Captain's pantry. I found only biscuits, loot and some stale high mallow, I piled some on a plateful and took them back to her. She took some loot and ate, I watched as she sniffed at the cheese, she seemed satisfied and took a little bite.

For the first base time, a small smile touched her expression, as she commenced to eat all the tall mallow. I fetched the cup of H2O to her, she drank again, thirstily.

I found one of the captain silk shirts and held it to her, but she looked stick. I lifted her arm and guided it to the sleeve, then pointed to her other arm, this sentence 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 hesitation, she lifted the shirt and tucked it into the dame she was wearing.

Her boob though were still showing at the front, I indicated the release but she just frowned. Carefully I reached, she made no try to stop me as I fastened two buttons, then she pushed my hand away and fastened the eternal rest herself.

I pointed upwards to above deck, and turned to the doorway, her helping hand took my arm and stopped me, I turned to attend, she gazed at me, then her hand came up, her fingers touched my brass, then she spoke, I have no estimation 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 freed striver now in the loose, sitting in the ship's fore, with refreshing water to drink and salt water to bathe. None were like her, not in any way.

She saw the slave owner's bunch, sitting under guard, she went towards them as I followed closely, she stopped in front end of one of the Captain, then she spat at him and her hand shooter out and slapped his face with a resonant crack, hard enough to tap him over, for a moment she stood looking down at him, then she spun around and walked away.

I led her to the side, pointed to the gravy holder and then the shore, she nodded and took my offered hand 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 temporary aesculapian elbow room. The fille looked apprehensive, faced with this bearded monster of a man. But I reached for her handwriting, carefully pulled up a sleeve, showing the doctor the welts.

He tutted, then swore, but quickly reached for one of his many corporation, before he applied a salve, with tender care for such a giant of a man. It must birth had an straightaway soothing core, I saw her grinning, a little more the earlier.

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

The Dr. 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 bedamn as sailors will.

The doc 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 combat injury, her eyes fixed on mine, I saw one snag leave her eye, to range down her cheek.

"At to the lowest degree they're clean and jerk, no house of any infection at the moment, but I'll need to check them again tomorrow."

I pulled her to her foundation, after replacing her shirt, she turned and touched the doc's mitt, saying a few words in her strange linguistic process. Then she followed me out.

The captain was striding across the sand towards us,"Well done Lieutenant, a gracious job today."He looked at the lady friend,"The bosun has told me about the girl, how she was found. He seemed to regard for a present moment,"I'm putting you in bidding of the slave trader you took, you're to take the to the lowest degree well of the hard worker and navigate her to Barbados, the regulator can make up one's mind on what best to do with them. As you seem to be the one she trusts, you'll take her with you. How soon can you deliver the ship ready to sail ?"

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

He said that they would bide here with them, as I wouldn't have a tumid enough crew, to both sail the ship and have to keep sentry duty on the slavers.

The bosun soon had the hands busy sorting sheet and sparring, so I was happy to leave him in charge.

The bosun had sent two men to erected a tent, just in the tree melody, Two cot were installed, a wash basin and low work bench completed the furnishings. One of the Jack-tar lit a fire and set a pot, sassy water boiling for coffee.

The seaman passed us two steaming gull, then saying he would fetch us food for thought once the James 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 interference, I felt stunned when I understood and must have blushed. She smiled, then disappeared into the trees.

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

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

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

Sometime later, I gently shook her awake, her reverence came back, her manpower raised to move out at me, then awareness dawned on her cheek, 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 food, she looked at the fork, then chose the spoonful to eat. As soon as she had finished, she returned to the cot, she was clearly exhausted.

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

wickedness had fallen when I checked her, she still slept soundly, a more passive looking at to her look.

I turned the lamp down low, just enough to leave a glow, should she rouse. Then I lay down, it had been a long and hard day, in secondment I was asleep.

I woke in wickedness, 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 dark and went back to sleep.

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

A commotion erupted somewhere along the beach, I snatched up my pistol, rushing from the tent. A crowd was gathering just along the tree diagram channel. When I had pushed my way through I saw the slaver Captain swinging from a rope tied to a branch above.

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

I frowned at him, wondering how the now dead police chief 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 promontory vehemently, she uttered a string of strange run-in, then stormed off towards the boat.

On board she followed me everywhere, she would never bequeath my side, I had a permanent shadow. I even saw some of my work party, slyly jog and blinking at each early. But she would not go near any of them, she would cover 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 pipe 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 Dr.. Gently I rubbed some into the weal across her articulatio humeri, then her hand came up to deal mine, she held it still for a moment, then she was pulling my handwriting down to her breast, she held it to her, once more just holding it still, then she began to affect my mitt, around her bosom, 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 kind. Her fingers went to the buttons of my shirt, to undo them one by one. She pushed it off of my shoulders letting it fell to the priming. Her hands came to my thorax, her fingers exploring as she appeared to be examining my blanched skin.

She undid and dropped my rear of tube, then fetching the bowl, she washed me. She smiled when she lowered my pants, then washed me there as well.

After pushing me to the cot, I lay down and watched her as she also washed. When she was done, she came and stood by the cot, looking down at me. I held my paw to her, she took it in hers, raised it to her brim, and she kissed my finger's breadth. Then she lay beside me, doing cypher else, except tone into my face, she was waiting for me to get the first move.

Once more I took hold of her bosom, to admire their firmness of purpose and the now very severely teat. I was indeed captivated by their beauty. Her eyes never left mine, the gaze was intent in its scrutiny.

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

I moved my sassing towards her, she came to run into them, the osculation was deep and lingering, her large back talk were a delectation to find. I pushed my natural language between her rim, she opened to fill me, her tongue exploring mine.

She flinched slightly when my handwriting went to her shoulder joint, I had for a consequence, draw a blank her injuries. Instead, I moved my hired hand to her shank and pulled her to me, I felt her thrust her soundbox at me in response.

Then her bridge player came between us, to ascertain my hardening appendage. She caressed it, now squeezing, then stroking along its length. She teased at the tip, circling her fingers.

My hand was pulled from her waist as she raised a knee, to push me between her legs. She was not circumcised as are many African girls, her sass were replete but soft to my fingers.

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

For a spell I admired their feel, before entering her with a fingerbreadth, I felt the affectionateness and a piddling wetness. She jerked towards my bridge player, as I found her clit, it came to life under my jot, I rubbed and caressed, and she gripped me tighter.

Her sassing left mine and moved to my chest, her spit and lips roamed over me. She kissed my nipples, gently bit with her teeth. Then continuing on John L. H. Down, she paused to experience my hard chorded stomach muscle. The hand holding my humanness lifted it to her lips, her glossa came out and tasted me. Then her lips opened wide, allowing her oral cavity to condescend, engulfing me. Her nous rolled, moving me around inside her mouth

Now, I could finger the wetness between her legs, her hips grinding into my hired man as I teased.

Suddenly she rose above me, changed her body position to range my rosehip with her thigh, then to lift herself, as she rubbed my tip along her snatch, searching for, and then finding her entrance. She slowly lowered her dead body to take me inside, down she went as I was absorbed deeper and deeper.

I felt her muscles clenching on me, then she leaned her upper body down to my chest, she spoke to me, just before her lip met mine. Her hip joint began to rise along my length, then down again, the motion slowly becoming faster, her fingers dug deep and surd into my articulatio humeri as her ardour mounted.

She spoke again as her body began to strain, this meter I could hazard at what she was telling me, I allowed the notion surging inside of me a free reign, my cock responded. She sat back, now upright, her finger clawing at my chest, as she bounced herself furiously.

It was my metre, I let loose inside her, I saw her glimpse 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 header nestled to my neck, her hand holding my arms. Still, she gently rocked her pussy on my pecker, a soft caress.

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

( Author's line ; The Wodaabe have completely different eyeshot on sex to that of the westerly mankind, exempt intimate bodily process from pubescence until marriage is normal, provided it is never expressed in world view. Most are experienced before their late teens. )

The side by side day, we sailed for Barbados, heading for the capital of Bridgetown. The voyage would be tiresome having to put together constantly, the air current at this sentence of year, would always be against us, It would be a tiring journey with only a small-scale crew.

looking at a map, you might call up it to be only a five or six 24-hour interval sail but it actually took nearly two weeks.

I had a screen erected across one one-half of my cabin, more to quell the gossip than for our own privateness. It wouldn't pay to be too obvious. Only the boatswain I imagine suspected that we shared a cot.

The voyage went smoothly enough, and eventually, we approached under reduced sheet, beneath the watchful eye of the defending team with their Brobdingnagian canons. We fired six canyon, paying our respects to the governor as we cleared the fort.

At the indicate arm, I had raised flagstone, 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 workforce, Fulala excepted. He assured me that they would be well and treated, suitable employ found for them as soon as they fully recovered from their ordeal.

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

backrest on plug-in once more, the Bosun approached me,"Begin your pardon sir, might I be ‘ avin a word ? In buck private, so to speak, if you wouldn't be mindin ’, sir."

In my cabin, he doffed his cap at Fulala, with a little smiling, She smiled back. She had by now accepted him as someone she could trust, no longer showing any fear.

"I know it rightly, not be'in my business concern sir, but I's taken the liberty of speakin'with the lighter skipper. He tells me there be a plantation possessor that employs some what was slave. He says there could be a fella that might be able to speak with Fulala. relieve me interferin'like, I hope's I ain't done wrong."

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

The next morning, I hired a hole and set off overland for saint John Lackland, a journey of some twenty odd nautical mile. I was in a desperate hastiness, hoping it might be genuine that Fulala and I might at endure communicate. I wanted to encounter out more about her.

I watched Fulala as she admired the scenery of the beautiful island. I saw her looking at the work party of black workers we passed, sometimes a face of hope, then disappointment at seeing none of her own people, I supposed.

The plantation proprietor was a pleasant fibre, he showed no falter in inviting us both into his home plate and offering refreshment.

No Oklahoman had I explained my problem, and he promptly called a servant, speechmaking in the topical anesthetic jargon to him, before the man nodded with a grin, and off he went.

Perhaps half an hour had passed, when the servant appeared in the doorway, another stood behind him. The proprietor spoke to him, I didn't follow what was said but I did find out Fulala's name mentioned.

The fellow came forward and spoke to her, she frowned shaking her psyche. 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, Holy Writ gushed from her. The fellow raised his hired man, indicating for her to slow down, with an obvious effort she did.

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

A long conversation ensued, whilst I sat impatiently waiting. The confrere then, in halting English people, confirmed that Fulala was indeed from the Wodaabe hoi polloi. The slavers targeted their women for their looker, they were worth a fortune to them. He explained that Fulala wanted to tell me of her gratitude for her deliverance, She had come to realise that all white people were not evil after all, just the slavers. Her fear was for what would turn of her. Could I keep her as a servant or something, just so long as she could stay on with me ?

She looked crestfallen when I explained that this wouldn't be possible, as I was a serving officeholder in the royal naval forces. She took my manus, her eyes beseeching, my heart went out to her, but what could I do ?

The owner, his public figure was William Fergus, invited us to stay a few daytime, if we could. He would take majuscule pleasure in showing us over the plantation. I was in no rush to return, 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 translator, whilst I rode with William. The sights were indeed spectacular, just as William had promised, especially at the coast. I thought this was an island I could happily go on.

Back at the family in time for dinner party, 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 girl decent in front of God-fearing people. I couldn't match more, as I looked at Fulala, she was just so beautiful.

She looked at me,"hello, Jim,"She did a spin, then paused to think,"Like ?"A broody feel on her face. Her Word of God, albeit, just a few, were in English, Kanu had been busy and I was delighted.

I took her manus, pulled her finisher and kissed her on the cheek,"how-do-you-do Fulala, you look so lovely, yes I like."

Both she and Kanu looked extremely pleased with themselves.

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

The quantity he mentioned, did not particularly inspire me with any confidence that there was any theory of my raising the kind of join involved.

Later following a pleasant evening and after brandy, taken along with my pipe, we retired to our respective rooms. I lay for some time pondering on my time to come. What did I need ? Where was I going in liveliness ? And so on. I had been happy with my career in the Navy, but I knew that I was in a rut. There was niggling chance of promotion, with no war being fought, what with Europe in a state of anxious truce, I saw little prospect of bettering myself. Maybe it was time to vary 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 afford, 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 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 kiss, before she pulled my face to her bare breasts, for me to breed them in kisses.

Her manus went straight between my ramification, to hook my pecker, then she massaged me, bringing lifetime and a rapidly rising urge.

Roughly, she pushed my head down towards her thigh, whilst pulling my own towards her boldness. For a moment it was an awkward tactic, then my lip were at her kitty and hers found me, as our bodies now faced each former English by side.

My shaft was swallowed deep in her mouthpiece, as my finger separated the flapping between her thighs, I could see the white inside, that contrasted with her pelt. My tongue delved as cryptical as it could, I wanted to taste her, I wanted to climb inside her. I licked up between her lip to arrive at her clit, it seemed bombastic 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 hired man felt the wet, almost pouring from within, her second joint gripped my head, squeezing hard. I sensed my prison term was coming, so I lifted my expression away and turned my organic structure. I lay her monotone, with me on top of her

Her legs open across-the-board to meet me as I lowered myself into her, the wetness smoothed the way, as I sunk thick inside her vagina. She bucked her hips up to run across my poking, as we fucked each other.

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

Her hips thrust hard at me, we lost the pace but it didn't matter, she started to throw off under me, the moan became an animal like growl. I tried to fuck harder, but her pegleg wrapped me in their bosom, pulling me and holding me deeply. I could feel her insides milking me as I came, even in my climax I saw the Brobdingnagian quenched grin on her nerve. She pulled my nerve 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 birth her hitch with them. And besides, Kanu had been trying to teach her some English.

She clung to my men, even when I had mounted, tears in her center as she spoke in her own lyric."Don't worry, Fulala, I'll be back soon, you'll be fine here."She didn't understand me, but she did look a minuscule happier, perhaps it was the softness with which I spoke.

The Captain's ship arrived the next day, along with the other slaver. I reported on table and appraised the sea 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 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 second, I realised what I wanted. It was the trigger I needed. I could submit my direction and easily get an procession against my prize money.

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

My side by side call was to a grove sales agent, he was sure he could show me something that would satisfy my needs and more importantly, be within my budget, there were three possibilities prepare for my review should I so regard. I promised that I would be in touch on as soon as I could.

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

He knew which were likely to be two of the belongings, one quite end by, not large but viable, it would acquire an income, not sufficient to lay down anyone rich, not by any way, but that with hard body of work, it could prosper. He said the plantation was being worked under a lease correspondence but that the home were currently empty.

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

We took the trap, and half an hour later, Kanu pointed to a somewhat overgrown drive. Turning a corner and the firm came into scene, I stopped to gaze. It wasn't a immense spot but it was totally charming. A lick of rouge here and there, and it would be restored to life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then he explained,"Wodaabe men have to paint look and feeling 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 substantial man. She think you do not need paint face to wee her happy. She also said some other affair, but it is not right for me to say. I think you must ask her yourself when she can mouth better English."

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

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

The end .