bank bill ;

This is not just a sex tarradiddle, it is more a novelette, that contains denotative sex, so be advised, if you don't want a long taradiddle, only sex, then delight don't read.

All references to the Wodaabe kin group are absolutely accurate.

exculpation any inaccuracies with regards to clip and distance, I have sailed on many seas but I am not a sailing master,

... ... ....

It seemed to be forever that we had been searching for the slavers. In fact, for five weeks now, we had been cruising the southerly islands of the Caribbean.

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

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

But then, the hurricane had struck, it was one of the rack up in living memory, and it had come upon us with so little monition, no fourth dimension at all to make for a safe harbor, especially if you were too far from land. Any ships caught at sea were in grievous trouble, especially anything small, the only safe place was one of the well-sheltered harbours.

We were close to down but with no suitable seaport finis by, we had no choice but to run before the wind. This in itself has not been promiscuous, we had only just managed to clear the tip of one island, in constant danger of the wind driving us ashore, where we would receive foundered on the poisonous rock and roll we could see all too clearly, just a hundred yards off our beam.

The slave trader had faced exactly the Lapplander quandary, but their row had allowed them to pass to the E of the islands, where-as, we had been forced to the west.

For three daylight we rode the tempest, sails ripped away, spars broken like match-sticks, mountainous sea battering the ship. Most of the crew had never before been so scared, even some of the Old 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 sail left integral. A bedlam of hanging ropes and railing smashed. Even two gun for hire had broken adrift below, smashing everything in their path, before the tribal chief Gunner and his gun crews somehow managed to secure them safely once more.

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

The First Mate reported to the police chief, that although the ship had sprung at least two planks below the waterline, for the minute the heart were coping well enough at keeping the pee in the bilges at a safe point. But, he pointed out we could only manage a few day of pumping before we ran out of men fit enough to man the pumps. Quite a identification number were carrying injuries, such as a broken arm or a badly turned ankle, the doctor had been kept busy.

We needed to urinate a landfall where the ship could be careened, to leave resort to be carried out, re-caulking the sprung planking.

The slaveholder had disappeared, they could be anywhere by now if they had survived the storm that is. snuff it the thought, of the quandary of those poor mortal, chained below decks, living would birth been sheer hell for them, and no chance of selection should their ship have suffered any mishap. The slaveholder would not have released them from their prison, they would have drowned, chained where they were.

The Captain had decided that we set a course of action that would take us between Granada and St. Vincent, allowing us a vague chance of sighting our prey. Failing any sighting, we would continue compass north to St. Lucia, a desirable berth to carry out the necessary repairs we needed.

It was the bosun who suggested to the Captain that perhaps he make a small detour to the east, he seemed to recollect an island named Mustique, where he thought there was a magnanimous bay with waters deep enough to allow a ship to border on the beach, this was to the south west of the island, he recalled the epithet of Les Jolies Eaux or exchangeable. It was a place literary pirate had often used in the past, it might be possible the slaver were there. The French were more prepared to turn 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 favour, they could be trapped.

One day later, came the cry,"Land ho, four points to larboard."( port position today ).

"What sheet ?"the Captain hollered.

The scout reported seeing nothing.

The chieftain, was at the chart table, to the first base Officer he ordered,"Alter row to take us east, we'll clear the bay to the south and ground the other side of the nearest headland. If they're there, they won't see our sail."

The ground tackle was dropped in only eight fathoms of water. The prospicient gravy boat was ordered out and duly settled in the piss alongside. The First Lieutenant led a party of five sailors, six marines, plus one Midshipman.

They were to shore at the head of the minor bay, from there trek to the top of the promontory, where, if the slaver were there, they would see them below. He would fire a park iris if they were, red if there was nothing.

Three hours later, the lookout called,"viridity flag, just below the head, sir."

The long gravy holder was sent the retrieve sign. The Marines under the command of the Middie remained ashore, as the boat pulled hard, back to the ship.

The slavers were there, one at anchor, the early careened on the beach, an comfortable prey it would seem.

Two sauceboat took another fourteen shipboard soldier and a smattering of seamen ashore.

The skipper's program was for the marines and a handful of skimmer to expect until midnight before crossing the headland, to lease up a position in the scrubbing and tree diagram overlooking the beach.

At break of day, we would sail across the backtalk of the bay. The ship would force out a admonition shot, to lay close on the anchored vessel. At the Saami time, the marines would open fire at any gang that was visible.

At the distribute clock time, we cleared the headland,"Fire when fix,"came the order, the Chief Gunner laid his aim, then touched his burning taper to the firing maw. A cloud of smoke, momentarily hid the slaver from sentiment, as the explosion died away the audio of musket flaming, from the marine could be clearly heard.

It was all over, within minutes the slave owner had hauled their colouration, we tacked about, then sailed in, the ponderous bow pursuer aimed at the slave dealer, just in case of any trickery.

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

The maiden officeholder was to leave another political party ashore to take the beached slaver, supported by the shipboard soldier and sailors already ashore.

It was only a poor twist to get us alongside the slaver, one boat either side and then we boarded, cook for a fight. The crew had, however, had already discarded their weapons and offered no resistance, they were leader-less, all of their military officer being ashore.

"Uncover the hatches,"I ordered. The malodour that came from below was dreadful as the blanket came away, we could hear the wailing that came from within.

"Bosun, send two of the slave owner down, have them release the slaves and get them up on deck."

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

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

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

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

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

Just in time, I saw the vane flying at me, I ducked and heard the thud as it buried into the door frame, inch from my caput. She was like a uncivilized animate being spitting at me, as she searched for something else to throw.

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

I stared at her with shock, I could see that she was terrified, but also very brave and dangerous. She wasn't cowed as slaves usually are after months at sea, she was a scrapper. She did not take care like the typical blackamoor African.

She was very magniloquent, her hair was long and it crested in a undulation above her forehead, her breasts were high and stood out firmly in nominal head of her. I even noticed the splendid white of her perfectly formed teeth. The entirely blemish, if you can forebode it that, were the formula scarred across her face and above her knocker, 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 heavy dental 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 rent, she shrank back from me, as I took a whole tone forward.

I placed my handgun and sword on the tabular array, well out of her reach. I held out my hands, palms up, and hollow."It's okay, I mean you no harm,"I spoke quietly and in a conciliate articulation, although I doubted she understood a word of it.

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

I saw a pitcher of water on the table, so I poured a cup, and held it out to her. She looked at me, oculus full and daunt. I slowly moved a step finisher, she tried to shrink yet further from me, I offered the cup closer, her oculus darted from the cup to my brass, then back again, but she didn't stretch out.

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

I called out of the cabin,"Fetch the bo'sun for me."I instructed him to place a safeguard on the cabin, on pain of death, if he let anyone enter.

On deck once more, I sent a gravy boat ashore with education to take the slaver captain back.

I pushed the police chief ahead of me, into his cabin, the girl 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 short bow of his caput."Who is she, and where's she from ?"

"Senor, I do not know her epithet, she is from North Africa, the desert area far inland from the sea-coast, I believe that her people are called the Wodaabe or possibly the Fulani.

Later I would learn from our doctor, that the Wodaabe were a mobile clan life along the southern sharpness of the Sahara, they were not blackamoor, 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.

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

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

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

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

It was when I got closer, that I saw the welts on her arms and shoulders, angry marks showed the beating she had been given. I rose to fetch a bowl and material, I dipped the cloth in cold water, 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 material 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 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 binding 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 welts, some were exposed cuts right across her back. She must have been in terrible 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 feel of curiosity on her face.

I took the key from my air hole, and held it up, I pointed at her ankle, then tried to bespeak a calming motion with my hands. She seemed to translate 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 chairman at the tabular array. She took my script, still watching me intently, as I led her to the chair.

Making sure the guard was at the door first, I then went over to the drapery that shielded the Captain's buttery. I found only cooky, bread and some stale cheese, I piled some on a crustal plate and took them back to her. She took some bread and ate, I watched as she sniffed at the cheese, she seemed live up to and took a little bite.

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

I found one of the police captain 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 other arm, this time she put her arm though herself, I laid the collar gently over her shoulders

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

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

I pointed upwards to above deck, and turned to the door, her hand took my arm and stopped me, I turned to bet, she gazed at me, then her hand came up, her fingers touched my impudence, 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 fair weather. I watched her as she took in everything around us.

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

She saw the slave dealer's gang, sitting under sentry go, she went towards them as I followed closely, she stopped in social movement of one of the Captain, then she spat at him and her paw dead reckoning out and slapped his face with a resounding quip, 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 boat and then the shore, she nodded and took my offered hired man to be helped up and over the position, before climbing down to the boat.

Onshore, I enquired if the doctor was about, then found him in a tent set up as a impermanent medical examination room. The daughter looked apprehensive, faced with this whiskered monstrosity of a man. But I reached for her hand, carefully pulled up a sleeve, showing the doctor the welts.

He tutted, then swore, but quickly reached for one of his many pots, before he applied a salve, with tender care for such a colossus 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 pot, and unbuttoned her shirt, to comfort it from her shoulders.

The doctor swore, even louder, then apologised to her, I pointed out that she hadn't understood, so it hardly mattered.

The Bosun had entered, he saw her back, I heard him beshrew as sailor boy will.

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

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

I pulled her to her feet, after replacing her shirt, she turned and touched the physician's hand, saying a few words in her unusual language. Then she followed me out.

The Captain was striding across the Sand towards us,"Well done lieutenant, a squeamish job today."He looked at the young woman,"The bosun has told me about the girl, how she was found. He seemed to consider for a second,"I'm putting you in command of the slaver you took, you're to convey the least fountainhead of the slaves and voyage her to Barbados, the governor can decide on what C. H. Best to do with them. As you seem to be the one she trusts, you'll adopt her with you. How soon can you have the ship ready to sweep ?"

"Two Day, 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 hold on guard on the slavers.

The bo'sun soon had the hands occupy sorting sail and spar, so I was happy to leave him in charge.

The bosun had sent two men to set up a tent, just in the tree line of business, Two cots were installed, a washables basin and small-scale judiciary completed the trappings. One of the Elizabeth Cochrane Seaman lit a fire and set a pot, fresh water boiling for coffee.

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

We had drunk our coffee, the girl pointed to the tree diagram, I looked puzzled. She made a"Pssss"kind of noise, I felt stupid when I understood and must sustain 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 minutes she was asleep, laying on her slope to protect her back, as I sat and studied her. She was beautiful, of that there was no incertitude.

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

Sometime later, I gently shook her awake, her fear came back, her hands raised to attain out at me, then knowingness dawned on her face, she took my hands and spoke, naturally I knew not what she said.

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

"Fulala,"She said.

I handed her a collection plate of intellectual nourishment, she looked at the forking, 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 deoxyephedrine of wine in my hand.

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

I turned the lamp down low, just enough to leave a glow, should she wake. Then I lay down, it had been a long and hard day, in arcsecond 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 of drawers, I felt her body aboard mine. I smiled to myself in the swarthiness and went back to sleep.

The ahead of time morning time alight struck my aspect, I jumped awake, then rose and splashed my typeface. There was no signal of Fulala, but I smelled coffee brewing. The collapsible shelter 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 crew was gathering just along the tree line. When I had pushed my way through I saw the slave owner Captain swinging from a roofy 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 utter Captain would give been able-bodied to get past the sentry 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 stay on here, she shook her head vehemently, she uttered a string of strange words, then stormed off towards the boat.

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

That evening I sat for a while, once more with my pipe, Fulala came and sat close, she leaned her shoulder to mine, her bridge player 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 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 shoulder joint, then her hand came up to cover mine, she held it still for a moment, then she was pulling my hand down to her breast, she held it to her, once to a greater extent just holding it still, then she began to move my hand, around her bosom, she pushed my finger to a nipple, squeezing them around it, I could find it harden under my touch.

She turned to face up me, speaking softly, it seemed to be a chant of some kind. Her fingers went to the clit of my shirt, to undo them one by one. She pushed it off of my berm letting it fell to the soil. Her hands came to my chest, her digit exploring as she appeared to be examining my white skin.

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

After pushing me to the cot, I lay down and watched her as she also washed. When she was done, she came and stood by the cot, looking down at me. I held my hand to her, she took it in hers, raised it to her backtalk, and she kissed my finger's breadth. Then she lay beside me, doing nothing else, except look into my face, she was waiting for me to make the showtime move.

Once Sir Thomas More I took grip of her chest, to admire their firmness and the now very hard nipples. I was indeed captivated by their stunner. Her heart never left mine, the regard was intent in its scrutiny.

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

I moved my sassing towards her, she came to adjoin them, the kiss was deeply and lingering, her orotund lips were a delectation to palpate. I pushed my tongue between her brim, she opened to meet me, her tongue exploring mine.

She flinched slightly when my hand went to her articulatio humeri, I had for a moment, forget her hurt. Instead, I moved my hand to her waist and pulled her to me, I felt her push her consistence at me in response.

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

My hired hand was pulled from her waist as she raised a knee, to push me between her ramification. She was not circumcised as are many African girlfriend, her lips were full but lenient to my fingers.

( writer's not ; The Wodaabe are one of only a few folk in Africa, that do not exercise any form of circumcision. )

For a patch I admired their look, before entering her with a finger, I felt the lovingness and a little wetness. She jerked towards my hand, as I found her clit, it came to life under my mite, I rubbed and caressed, and she gripped me tighter.

Her oral fissure left mine and moved to my pectus, her natural language and rim roamed over me. She kissed my nipples, gently bit with her tooth. Then continuing on down feather, she paused to feel my hard chorded abdomen muscles. The bridge player holding my humanity lifted it to her backtalk, her spit came out and tasted me. Then her lips opened encompassing, allowing her mouth to descend, engulfing me. Her head rolled, moving me around inside her sass

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

Suddenly she rose above me, changed her body status to range my rosehip with her thighs, then to lift herself, as she rubbed my tip along her slit, searching for, and then finding her ingress. She slowly lowered her body to take me inside, down she went as I was absorbed thick and deeper.

I felt her heftiness clenching on me, then she leaned her upper trunk down to my thorax, she spoke to me, just before her rim met mine. Her hips began to rise along my length, then down again, the apparent movement slowly becoming faster, her finger dug deep and severely into my shoulders as her ardour mounted.

She spoke again as her body began to tense, this time I could venture at what she was telling me, I allowed the feelings surging inside of me a free people reign, my tool responded. She sat back, now unsloped, her fingers clawing at my chest of drawers, as she bounced herself furiously.

It was my sentence, I let loose inside her, I saw her glance at me, she had felt me cumming, then she went rigid, only her hip flexing, driving her climax, as she also climaxed.

I was spent, completely drained, when she fell forward, her capitulum nestled to my neck, her hands holding my arms. Still, she gently rocked her pussy on my cock, a easygoing caress.

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

( Author's note ; The Wodaabe have completely different views on sex to that of the westerly reality, free sexual activity from puberty until marriage is convention, provided it is never expressed in public view. nearly are experienced before their late teen. )

The adjacent day, we sailed for Barbados, heading for the Das Kapital of capital of Barbados. The voyage would be tedious having to hang on constantly, the winds at this time of yr, would always be against us, It would be a tiring journeying with only a minor crew.

looking for at a map, you might think it to be only a five or six days 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 privacy. It wouldn't pay to be too obvious. Only the bosun I imagine suspected that we shared a cot.

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

At the signalise arm, I had raised flags, requesting I might be received as soon as possible, I wanted to shift duty for the freed slaves as quickly as possible.

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

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

Back 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 small grin, She smiled back. She had by now accepted him as someone she could swear, no longer showing any fear.

"I know it rightly, not be'in my business enterprise sir, but I's taken the liberty of speakin'with the lighter Captain. He tells me there be a orchard owner that employs some what was striver. He says there could be a fella that might be able to speak 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 morning, I hired a trap and set off overland for Saint John, a journeying of some twenty odd naut mi. I was in a despairing rushing, hoping it might be true that Fulala and I might at death communicate. I wanted to feel out more about her.

I watched Fulala as she admired the scenery of the beautiful island. I saw her looking at the mob of black workers we passed, sometimes a feel of hope, then disappointment at seeing none of her own the great unwashed, I supposed.

The plantation possessor was a pleasant role, he showed no wavering in inviting us both into his dwelling house and offering refreshment.

No Sooner had I explained my problem, and he promptly called a servant, speech production in the local slang to him, before the man nodded with a smiling, and off he went.

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

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

It was as if the sun shone from her human face, she beamed at him, Bible gushed from her. The fellow raised his deal, indicating for her to slow down down, with an obvious effort she did.

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

A long conversation ensued, whilst I sat impatiently waiting. The fellow then, in halting English, confirmed that Fulala was indeed from the Wodaabe people. The slave owner targeted their fair sex for their looker, they were deserving a fortune to them. He explained that Fulala wanted to tell me of her gratitude for her rescue, She had come to gain that all Patrick Victor Martindale White citizenry were not evil after all, just the slaver. Her fear was for what would turn of her. Could I keep on 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 attend to officer in the royal Navy. She took my script, her oculus 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 days, if we could. He would take great pleasure in showing us over the grove. I was in no rushing to refund, 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 tidy sum were indeed spectacular, just as William had promised, especially at the seashore. I thought this was an island I could happily live on.

Back 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 daughter decent in front man of God-fearing people. I couldn't concord more, as I looked at Fulala, she was just so beautiful.

She looked at me,"Hello, Jim,"She did a kink, then paused to cogitate,"Like ?"A pensive look on her boldness. Her Holy Writ, albeit, just a few, were in English, Kanu had been interfering and I was delighted.

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

Both she and Kanu looked extremely pleased with themselves.

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

The amount he mentioned, did not particularly pep up me with any authority that there was any possibility of my raising the kind of sum of money involved.

Later following a pleasant eventide and after brandy, taken along with my pipe, we retired to our respective room. I lay for some time pondering on my future tense. What did I desire ? Where was I going in aliveness ? And so on. I had been happy with my career in the Navy, but I knew that I was in a rut. There was little chance of promotion, with no warfare being fought, what with Europe in a land of uneasy truce, I saw little prospect of bettering myself. Maybe it was time to switch counseling. I was by no substance deep, yes I had prize monies owed me, and the capture of the slave owner would add to that, but was it enough ?

I saw rather than discover my door candid, 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 site, but it was skillful none-the-less.

She dropped the smock she was wearing, then lifting the binding 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 farseeing kiss, before she pulled my aspect to her bare breasts, for me to spread over them in kisses.

Her mitt went straight between my leg, to lift my peter, then she massaged me, bringing aliveness 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 manoeuvre, then my lips were at her pussycat and hers found me, as our body now faced each former side by side.

My cock was swallowed deep in her mouth, as my fingers separated the flap between her thighs, I could see the whiteness inside, that contrasted with her tegument. My lingua delved as deep as it could, I wanted to taste her, I wanted to climb inside her. I licked up between her brim to arrive at her clit, it seemed larger to my tongue than it had to my digit, soon it hardened under the my caress.

Two finger were now inside her, feeling her, teasing her and pleasing her. My manus felt the wet, almost pouring from within, her thigh gripped my head, squeezing hard. I sensed my time was coming, so I lifted my typeface away and turned my consistence. I lay her flat, with me on top of her

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

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

Her hips thrust hard at me, we lost the tempo but it didn't matter, she started to escape from under me, the moan became an animal like growling. I tried to roll in the hay harder, but her legs wrapped me in their embracement, pulling me and holding me mystifying. I could feel her interior milking me as I came, even in my coming I saw the vast satisfied grin on her face. She pulled my side to hers,"Jim, I love."

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

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

The chieftain's ship arrived the following day, along with the other slaver. I reported on dining table and appraised the Captain of the aid 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 evenhandedly to her, allowing her to perhaps be reading something into her situation that I couldn't possibly deliver.

It was at that moment, I realised what I wanted. It was the trigger I needed. I could resign my delegation and easily get an advance against my prize money.

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

My next call was to a plantation sales factor, he was certainly he could show me something that would satisfy my want and more importantly, be within my budget, there were three possibilities gear up 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 veranda. I explained to him my thoughts, he said the federal agent was honest and could be trusted, within reason anyway.

He knew which were likely to be two of the prop, one quite close by, not expectant but feasible, it would bring on an income, not sufficient to prepare anyone rich, not by any means, but that with hard work, it could prosper. He said the plantation 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 yap, and half an time of day later, Kanu pointed to a somewhat overgrown drive. Turning a corner and the house came into thought, I stopped to gaze. It wasn't a huge place 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 hall was larger than I expected, the furnishing were covered with material, as they turned out to be in all of the elbow room. It was almost cook and waiting for an occupier.

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

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

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

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

"Fulala will you marry me and subsist 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 font and look like pretty girl before they can win woman 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 happy. She also said some other matter, 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 grinning on her look as she ran into my arms.

"Fulala have it away Jim, is you love Fulala ?"Her English needed employment but it was a outset !

The end .