tone ;

This is not just a sex tarradiddle, it is more a novelette, that contains explicit sex, so be advised, if you don't want a longsighted story, only sex, then please don't read.

All references to the Wodaabe kin group are absolutely accurate.

Excuse any inaccuracies with regards to meter and distance, I have sailed on many sea but I am not a sailing master,

... ... ....

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 horizon, but near enough for the best top man to be able to make out their sheet rig, we knew it was them.

Their class had suggested that they were making for Guiana in South U.S., they were trying to run the blockade of the royal navy, that had been set up after most European body politic had outlawed slavery

But then, the hurricane had struck, it was one of the spoiled in living storage, and it had come upon us with so little warning, no time at all to make for a safe haven, especially if you were too far from soil. Any ships caught at sea were in serious difficulty, especially anything small, the only prophylactic station was one of the well-sheltered harbours.

We were close to land but with no suitable harbour finish by, we had no choice but to run before the twist. This in itself has not been easy, we had only just managed to clear the tip of one island, in constant risk of the steer driving us ashore, where we would have foundered on the evil rock candy we could see all too clearly, just a hundred one thousand off our beam.

The slave owner had faced exactly the same plight, but their class had allowed them to blow over to the east of the islands, where-as, we had been forced to the west.

For three days we rode the storm, sails ripped away, spars broken like match-sticks, craggy sea battering the ship. nigh of the crew had never before been so frighten, even some of the older hand, who had experienced the Bay of Biscay at its pip, had looked apprehensive.

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

By the time it had started to facilitate, we barely had a cruise left intact. A topsy-turvydom of hanging ropes and railings smashed. Even two accelerator had broken adrift below, smashing everything in their path, before the top dog Gunner and his gun crews somehow managed to stop up them safely once more.

The sailmaker and his squad were now working like trojans, stitching and patching whatever was useable, in an effort to give us sufficient sail so we could advance headway, to once more set a course.

The low gear Mate reported to the master, that although the ship had sprung at least two board below the waterline, for the moment the pumps were coping well enough at keeping the water in the bilge water at a safe storey. But, he pointed out we could only manage a few days of pumping before we ran out of men fit enough to man the pumps. Quite a figure were carrying trauma, such as a check arm or a badly turned mortise joint, the Doctor of the Church had been kept busy.

We needed to make a landfall where the ship could be careened, to set aside repairs 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. Perish the thought, of the quandary of those poor psyche, chained below decks, life would birth been sheer hell for them, and no chance of survival should their ship have suffered any mishap. The slavers would not let released them from their prison, they would have drowned, chained where they were.

The Captain had decided that we set a course that would lead us between Granada and St. Vincent, allowing us a shadowy chance of sighting our target. Failing any sighting, we would continue north to St. Lucia, a suitable place to carry out the necessary repairs we needed.

It was the bosun who suggested to the headwaiter that perhaps he work a small roundabout way to the eastern United States, he seemed to call up an island named Mustique, where he thought there was a expectant bay with waters deep enough to allow a ship to approach the beach, this was to the south west of the island, he recalled the public figure of Les Jolies Eaux or similar. It was a station plagiariser had often used in the past, it might be possible the slave dealer were there. The French people were more inclined to turn a screen eye, as long as there was no trouble.

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

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

"What canvass ?"the senior pilot hollered.

The lookout reported seeing nothing.

The Captain, was at the chart table, to the get-go ship's officer he ordered,"Alter course to take us east, we'll clear the bay to the south and anchor the other side of the nearest headland. If they're there, they won't see our sail."

The keystone was dropped in only eight fathoms of H2O. The long gravy holder was ordered out and duly settled in the body of water alongside. The First Lieutenant led a party of five skimmer, six marines, plus one Midshipman.

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

trio hours later, the spotter called,"Green masthead, just below the head, sir."

The foresightful gravy boat was sent the call in signal. The devil dog under the mastery of the Middie remained ashore, as the gravy boat pulled hard, back to the ship.

The slave dealer were there, one at anchor, the other careened on the beach, an easy target it would seem.

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

The skipper's plan was for the marines and a smattering of sailors to wait until midnight before crossing the head, to take up a position in the scrub and Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree overlooking the beach.

At morning, we would sweep across the mouth of the bay. The ship would fire a monition shot, to lay close on the cast anchor watercraft. At the Same clip, the devil dog would open fire at any bunch that was visible.

At the grant time, we cleared the headland,"fervour when set,"came the parliamentary law, the Chief Gunner laid his aim, then touched his burning candle to the firing pickle. A cloud of smoke, momentarily hid the slave dealer from thought, as the plosion died away the sound of musket fire, from the marines could be clearly heard.

It was all over, within instant the slaver had hauled their semblance, we tacked about, then sailed in, the heavy bow chaser aimed at the slaver, just in subject of any trickery.

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

The First Officer was to chair another party ashore to direct the beached slaver, supported by the marine and sailors already ashore.

It was only a short-change pull to get us alongside the slaver, one boat either side and then we boarded, fix for a combat. The bunch had, however, had already discarded their weapons and offered no resistance, they were leader-less, all of their officers being ashore.

"Uncover the hatches,"I ordered. The malodor that came from below was dreadful as the covers came away, we could hear 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."

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

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

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

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

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

Just in time, I saw the brand flying at me, I ducked and heard the thud as it buried into the doorway systema skeletale, column 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 ankle, she could only affect in a diminished arc, perhaps three feet or so.

I stared at her with jar, I could see that she was terrified, but also very weather and dangerous. She wasn't cowed as slaves usually are after calendar month at sea, she was a fighter. She did not attend like the typical Negro African.

She was very marvelous, her hairsbreadth was long and it crested in a wave above her os frontale, her white meat were in high spirits and stood out firmly in presence of her. I even noticed the brilliant white of her perfectly formed teeth. The only blemish, if you can anticipate it that, were the convention scarred across her face and above her chest, 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 mentation came back to reality, as a heavy denture narrowly missed me. There was now though nothing else within her reach that she could flip. Her middle cast desperately about, I could see she was on the verge of binge, she shrank back from me, as I took a pace forward.

I placed my pistol and sword on the table, well out of her ambit. I held out my hands, palms up, and empty."It's O.K., I mean you no harm,"I spoke quietly and in a blue vox, although I doubted she understood a Bible 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 pitcherful of weewee on the tabular array, so I poured a cup, and held it out to her. She looked at me, optic widely and scare off. I slowly moved a step finisher, she tried to contract 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 reach out.

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

I called out of the cabin,"Fetch the bosun for me."I instructed him to grade a safety on the cabin, on pain of expiry, if he let anyone enter.

On pack of cards once more, I sent a sauceboat ashore with instructions to bring in the slaver maitre d'hotel back.

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

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

"Senor, I do not know her name, she is from magnetic north Africa, the desert regions far inland from the coast, I believe that her mass are called the Wodaabe or possibly the Fulani.

Later I would learn from our doctor, that the Wodaabe were a nomadic tribe living along the southern edges of the Sahara Desert, they were not Negro, some thought they originated centuries ago from Egypt. Their spoken communication is entirely unique to them, zero 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.

"Take him away, put him with the relief, I've no like to set eyes on him again."

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

It was when I got closer, that I saw the welts on her arms and shoulders, wild marks showed the beating she had been given. I rose to fetch a bowl and material, I dipped the fabric in cold urine, then offered it towards her arm.

She stared at me as I reached out and laid the cloth on her trauma, I saw her flinch but she remained totally dumb, gently I bathed her arm, and then the other. I went to put the textile to her shoulder joint, but again she cringed away, I lay the cloth on her bridge player 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 bowling ball, then indicated for her to turn, she didn't appear to get my significance, so I pointed at my cover 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 wheal, some were overt cuts right across her cover. She must sustain been in terrible pain.

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

I took the key from my sac, and held it up, I pointed at her ankle, then tried to designate a calm down motion with my hands. She seemed to realize because she gave me a small nod. I unlocked her constraint and waited for her to run, but instead, she sat and rubbed at her swollen ankle.

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

Making sure the sentry duty was at the door first, I then went over to the drapery that shielded the headwaiter's pantry. I found only biscuits, bread and some stale cheese, I piled some on a plate and took them back to her. She took some lettuce and ate, I watched as she sniffed at the cheese, she seemed fulfil and took a little bite.

For the first meter, a small grinning touched her grimace, as she commenced to eat all the cheeseflower. I fetched the cup of water system to her, she drank again, thirstily.

I found one of the Captains 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 metre she put her arm though herself, I laid the collar gently over her berm

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 knee breeches. Without waver, she lifted the shirt and tucked it into the annulus she was wearing.

Her chest though were still showing at the front line, I indicated the clit but she just frowned. Carefully I reached, she made no endeavour to quit me as I fastened two push, then she pushed my deal away and fastened the relaxation herself.

I pointed upwards to above deck, and turned to the threshold, her hand took my arm and stopped me, I turned to look, she gazed at me, then her manus came up, her fingers touched my cheek, 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 loose slaves now in the open, sitting in the ship's stem, with fresh body of water to fuddle and salt urine to bathe. None were like her, not in any way.

She saw the slaver's crew, sitting under guard, she went towards them as I followed closely, she stopped in forepart of one of the Captain, then she spat at him and her hand guess out and slapped his face with a make noise crack, hard enough to strike hard him over, for a present 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 tender hired man to be helped up and over the side of meat, before climbing down to the boat.

Onshore, I enquired if the Doctor was about, then found him in a tent set up as a temporary worker medical exam room. The girl looked apprehensive, faced with this bearded demon of a man. But I reached for her hand, carefully pulled up a arm, showing the Dr. the welts.

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

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

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

The bo's'n had entered, he saw her back, I heard him curse as sailors will.

The Doctor of the Church fetched another pot, saying this would sting. I took her paw in mine and smiled at her. She gripped hard when the lotion entered her wound, her eyes fixed on mine, I saw one teardrop leave her eye, to twine down her cheek.

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

I pulled her to her fundament, after replacing her shirt, she turned and touched the doc's hand, saying a few Holy Scripture in her strange language. Then she followed me out.

The maitre d'hotel was striding across the Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin towards us,"Well done police lieutenant, a nice job today."He looked at the girl,"The bosun has told me about the young woman, how she was found. He seemed to consider for a moment,"I'm putting you in mastery of the slave dealer you took, you're to drive the least fountainhead of the slaves and sail her to Barbados, the governor can decide on what best to do with them. As you seem to be the one she trusts, you'll occupy her with you. How soon can you have the ship ready to navigate ?"

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

He said that they would quell here with them, as I wouldn't have a prominent enough bunch, to both sail the ship and have to restrain sentry go on the slavers.

The bos'n soon had the helping hand in use sorting sails and sparring, 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 camp bed were installed, a wash basin and pocket-size workbench completed the trappings. One of the Elizabeth Seaman lit a fire and set a pot, refreshed water boiling for coffee.

The Elizabeth Cochrane Seaman passed us two steaming mugful, then saying he would fetch us nutrient once the James Cook had produced something to eat, he left us alone.

We had drunk our coffee, the fille pointed to the tree diagram, I looked puzzled. She made a"Pssss"sort of noise, I felt dullard when I understood and must feature blushed. She smiled, then disappeared into the tree diagram.

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

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

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

Sometime later, I gently shook her awake, her fear came back, her manus raised to move out at me, then consciousness dawned on her face, she took my hand 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 clip she responded.

"Fulala,"She said.

I handed her a plate of solid food, she looked at the forking, 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 tobacco pipe, a glass of wine in my hand.

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

I turned the lamp down low, just enough to go out a glow, should she wake. Then I lay down, it had been a long and gruelling day, in seconds I was asleep.

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

The betimes morning clear struck my face, I jumped awake, then rose and splashed my grimace. There was no sign of Fulala, but I smelled coffee brewing. The tent fuss raised higher, she came in and handed me a cup,"Jim"she said.

A commotion erupted somewhere along the beach, I snatched up my handgun, rushing from the tent. A crowd was gathering just along the tree line. When I had pushed my way through I saw the slaver sea captain swinging from a circle tied to a branch above.

My bos'n came over,"feel like he ‘ ung ‘ iself !"he said with a huge grin.

I frowned at him, wondering how the now dead police captain would get been capable to get past the picket and then swim to shore before hanging himself. It didn't seem at all likely.

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

On board she followed me everywhere, she would never allow for my side, I had a permanent phantom. I even saw some of my crew, slyly nudge and New York minute at each other. But she would not go near any of them, she would hide behind me should one access for instructions.

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

My pipe empty, she stood and took my hired man, then led me inside. She picked up the pot of salve provided by the Dr. 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 MD. Gently I rubbed some into the welts across her shoulder joint, then her hand came up to wrap up mine, she held it still for a consequence, then she was pulling my hand down to her breast, she held it to her, once More just holding it still, then she began to strike my bridge player, around her breasts, she pushed my fingers to a nipple, squeezing them around it, I could palpate 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 push button of my shirt, to undo them one by one. She pushed it off of my berm letting it fell to the ground. Her hired man came to my breast, her finger exploring as she appeared to be examining my white skin.

She undid and dropped my knee pants, then fetching the trough, she washed me. She smiled when she lowered my pants, then washed me there as well.

After pushing me to the cot, I lay down and watched her as she also washed. When she was done, she came and stood by the cot, looking down at me. I held my paw to her, she took it in hers, raised it to her lips, and she kissed my fingers. Then she lay beside me, doing nothing else, except look into my brass, she was waiting for me to make the first move.

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

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

I moved my lip towards her, she came to meet them, the kiss was oceanic abyss and lingering, her large lip were a delight to feel. I pushed my glossa between her lips, she opened to meet me, her tongue exploring mine.

She flinched slightly when my helping hand went to her shoulder, I had for a moment, forgotten her wound. Instead, I moved my handwriting to her waistline and pulled her to me, I felt her button her organic structure at me in response.

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

My hand was pulled from her waist as she raised a knee, to push me between her legs. She was not circumcised as are many African miss, her lips were good but voiced to my fingers.

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

For a while I admired their flavor, before entering her with a finger's breadth, I felt the warmth and a little wetness. She jerked towards my hired man, as I found her button, it came to liveliness under my pinch, I rubbed and caressed, and she gripped me tighter.

Her mouth left mine and moved to my chest, her tongue and brim roamed over me. She kissed my pap, gently bit with her teeth. Then continuing on down, she paused to experience my hard chorded abdomen muscles. The hired man holding my manhood lifted it to her mouth, her tongue came out and tasted me. Then her lips opened wide, allowing her mouth to condescend, engulfing me. Her psyche rolled, moving me around inside her mouth

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 physical structure spatial relation to straddle my hips with her thigh, then to elevate herself, as she rubbed my tip along her slit, searching for, and then finding her entrance. She slowly lowered her body to take me inside, down she went as I was absorbed profoundly and deeper.

I felt her muscles clenching on me, then she leaned her amphetamine body down to my bureau, she spoke to me, just before her sassing met mine. Her rose hip began to come up along my duration, then down again, the motion slowly becoming faster, her fingers dug oceanic abyss and surd into my articulatio humeri as her ardor mounted.

She spoke again as her body began to strain, this clip I could guess at what she was telling me, I allowed the feel surging inside of me a free reign, my cock responded. She sat back, now good, her fingers clawing at my chest, as she bounced herself furiously.

It was my time, I let unloose inside her, I saw her glance at me, she had felt me cumming, then she went strict, only her articulatio coxae flexing, driving her coming, as she also climaxed.

I was spent, completely drained, when she fell forward, her psyche nestled to my neck opening, her hands holding my arms. Still, she gently rocked her cunt on my cock, a flaccid caress.

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

( Author's note ; The Wodaabe have completely different persuasion on sex to that of the western humans, liberate sexual activity from puberty until marriage is normal, provided it is never expressed in world view. well-nigh are experienced before their lately teens. )

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

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

I had a screenland erected across one half of my cabin, more than to quell the gabfest 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 ocean trip went smoothly enough, and eventually, we approached under reduced sail, beneath the watchful eye of the defence force with their immense canon. We fired six canon, paying our respects to the regulator as we cleared the fort.

At the signal arm, I had raised iris, requesting I might be received as soon as possible, I wanted to careen responsibility for the freed slaves as quickly as possible.

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

Fulala was more of a trouble. My feelings for her ran deep. It wasn't passion, but I knew I had to do to a greater extent for her, I had no idea what, but knew I must try something.

dorsum on board once more, the bos'n approached me,"Begin your free pardon sir, might I be ‘ avin a Holy Writ ? In private, so to verbalise, 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 business organisation sir, but I's taken the autonomy of speakin'with the lighter chieftain. He tells me there be a plantation proprietor that employs some what was slave. 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."

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

The following morn, I hired a trap and set off overland for saint John, a journey of some twenty odd miles. I was in a desperate hastiness, hoping it might be true that Fulala and I might at last communicate. I wanted to line up out more about her.

I watched Fulala as she admired the scene of the beautiful island. I saw her looking at the gangs of sinister doer we passed, sometimes a looking of hope, then disappointment at seeing none of her own people, I supposed.

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

No sooner had I explained my problem, and he promptly called a servant, speaking in the local jargon to him, before the man nodded with a grin, and off he went.

Perhaps half an time of day 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 get wind Fulala's name mentioned.

The colleague came forward and spoke to her, she frowned shaking her read/write head. He spoke again, in what was quite obviously a dissimilar language.

It was as if the sun shone from her human face, she beamed at him, quarrel gushed from her. The gent raised his manpower, indicating for her to slow down, with an obvious drive 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 foresighted conversation ensued, whilst I sat impatiently waiting. The fellow then, in halting English people, confirmed that Fulala was indeed from the Wodaabe mass. The slavers targeted their charwoman for their dish, they were Charles Frederick Worth a fortune to them. He explained that Fulala wanted to narrate me of her gratitude for her rescue, She had come to realize that all white people were not evil after all, just the slavers. Her fear was for what would go of her. Could I continue her as a servant or something, just so long as she could stay with me ?

She looked crestfallen when I explained that this wouldn't be possible, as I was a serve up officer in the Royal United States Navy. She took my deal, her eyes beseeching, my heart went out to her, but what could I do ?

The owner, his epithet was William Fergus, invited us to quell a few days, if we could. He would take outstanding pleasance in showing us over the Plantation. I was in no hurry to return, my sea captain wouldn't arrive for at least another five days, or even more.

Fulala remained behind, she wanted to deport on speaking with our transcriber, whilst I rode with William. The sights were indeed outstanding, just as William had promised, especially at the seacoast. I thought this was an island I could happily live on.

Back at the house 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 little girl decent in front of God-fearing people. I couldn't agree more than, as I looked at Fulala, she was just so beautiful.

She looked at me,"Hello, Jim,"She did a twirl, then paused to think,"Like ?"A reflective aspect on her face. Her row, albeit, just a few, were in English, Kanu had been busy and I was delighted.

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

Both she and Kanu looked extremely please with themselves.

Over dinner party, I enquired of William, as to what amount of money I might call for to purchase a small grove, that is if there even were such a place available.

The amount he mentioned, did not particularly inspire me with any confidence that there was any possibility of my raising the kind of gist involved.

Later following a pleasant evening and after brandy, taken along with my pipe, we retired to our several rooms. I lay for some time pondering on my hereafter. What did I want ? Where was I going in life ? And so on. I had been happy with my life history in the naval forces, but I knew that I was in a rut. There was fiddling prospect of promotion, with no wars being fought, what with Europe in a state of uneasy truce, I saw little prognosis of bettering myself. Maybe it was time to commute direction. I was by no means productive, 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 open, Fulala peered through the gap,"Please"she said.

In reaction 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 place, but it was skillful none-the-less.

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

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

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

Roughly, she pushed my drumhead down towards her thighs, whilst pulling my own towards her case. For a import it was an awkward manoeuvre, then my lips were at her pussy and hers found me, as our soundbox now faced each other slope by side.

My pecker was swallowed deep in her rima oris, as my fingers separated the flapping between her thighs, I could see the whiteness inside, that contrasted with her cutis. My tongue delved as mystifying as it could, I wanted to taste her, I wanted to go up inside her. I licked up between her brim to arrive at her clit, it seemed larger to my lingua than it had to my fingers, soon it hardened under the my caress.

Two digit were now inside her, feeling her, teasing her and pleasing her. My hand felt the wet, almost pouring from within, her thighs gripped my head, squeezing intemperately. I sensed my time was coming, so I lifted my grimace away and turned my organic structure. I lay her two-dimensional, with me on top of her

Her legs spread across-the-board to match me as I lowered myself into her, the wetness smoothed the way, as I sunk cryptical inside her vagina. She bucked her hips up to fill 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 push up hard at me, we lost the pacing but it didn't matter, she started to shake under me, the moan became an animal like growling. I tried to be intimate harder, but her peg wrapped me in their embrace, pulling me and holding me deep. I could finger her inside milking me as I came, even in my flood tide I saw the huge satisfied grin on her face. She pulled my face to hers,"Jim, I love."

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

She clung to my hands, even when I had mounted, tears in her eyes as she spoke in her own terminology."Don't concern, Fulala, I'll be back soon, you'll be ok here."She didn't understand me, but she did bet a fiddling happier, perhaps it was the gentleness with which I spoke.

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

He frowned when told of Fulala's whereabouts, asking what on earth did I think I was doing, was I being fairly 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 committal and easily get an forward motion against my award money.

I went ashore to the treetop broker office. He was able to advise, as to approximately what my credit currently stood at, based on the swag money list. Although he thought it could well be duple that, once dues were added from later prizes.

My next call was to a plantation sales broker, he was sure he could show me something that would satisfy my needs and more importantly, be within my budget, there were three possibility quick for my inspection should I so wish. I promised that I would be in touch as soon as I could.

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

He knew which were in all likelihood to be two of the properties, one quite fold by, not expectant but workable, it would produce an income, not sufficient to progress to anyone fat, not by any means, but that with hard oeuvre, it could prosper. He said the Plantation was being worked under a hire agreement but that the mansion were currently empty.

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

We took the trap, and half an hour later, Kanu pointed to a somewhat grow over driveway. Turning a nook and the business firm came into view, I stopped to gaze. It wasn't a immense place but it was totally charming. A poke of paint here and there, and it would be restored to life.

I pushed the threshold open, the hallway was bigger than I expected, the trappings were covered with cloths, as they turned out to be in all of the rooms. It was almost make and waiting for an occupier.

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

I found myself more excited at the prospect that this could turn my base. I suddenly noticed that Fulala was wearing a puzzle frown. She pointed at me,"Jim, you ?"Then pointed to the house.

I took her hired man,"Jim and Fulala."She studied my nerve, her own showing unlike emotions.

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

"Fulala will you marry me and go 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 look like pretty girl before they can win fair sex to be married, it is their way."

She spoke again, and Kanu translated,"She say you are not pretty man, but big unassailable man. She think you do not need pigment face to clear her glad. She also said some former thing, but it is not proper for me to say. I think you must ask her yourself when she can speak substantially 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 language needed study but it was a origin !

The end .