Note ;

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

All references to the Wodaabe tribe are absolutely accurate.

alibi any inaccuracies with paying attention to time and distance, I have sailed on many sea but I am not a navigator,

... ... ....

It seemed to be forever that we had been searching for the slave dealer. In fact, for five week now, we had been cruising the southern islands of the Caribbean.

We had sighted them once, two ships close to the sensible horizon, but near sufficiency for the best 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 South America, they were trying to run the encirclement of the Royal Navy, that had been set up after virtually European area 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 little warning, no time at all to make for a dependable seaport, especially if you were too far from land. Any ships caught at sea were in serious difficulty, especially anything small, the only secure spot was one of the well-sheltered harbours.

We were faithful to shoot down but with no suitable harbour close by, we had no alternative but to run before the nothingness. This in itself has not been easy, we had only just managed to acquit the tip of one island, in constant danger of the wind driving us ashore, where we would possess foundered on the evil rocks we could see all too clearly, just a hundred railway yard off our beam.

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

For three years we rode the violent storm, sheet ripped away, spars broken like match-sticks, mountainous seas battering the ship. about of the crew had never before been so panicked, even some of the honest-to-goodness manus, 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 time it had started to ease, we barely had a canvas left inviolate. A chaos of hanging roofy and railing smashed. Even two shooter had broken adrift below, smashing everything in their way of life, before the chieftain cannoneer and his gun crews somehow managed to secure them safely once more.

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

The number one fellow reported to the senior pilot, that although the ship had sprung at least two plank below the water level, for the instant the pumps were coping well enough at keeping the water in the bilge at a safe level. But, he pointed out we could only oversee a few mean solar day of pumping before we ran out of men fit enough to man the pumps. Quite a issue were carrying injury, 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 allow stamping ground to be carried out, re-caulking the sprung planking.

The slaver had disappeared, they could be anywhere by now if they had survived the storm that is. Perish the thought, of the troth of those short soul, chained below decks, life would have been sheer blaze for them, and no prospect of selection should their ship have suffered any mishap. The slavers 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 film us between Granada and St. Vincent, allowing us a vague chance of sighting our quarry. Failing any sighting, we would continue north to St. Lucia, a suitable piazza to carry out the necessary repairs we needed.

It was the bos'n who suggested to the senior pilot that perhaps he have a pocket-sized detour to the Orient, he seemed to think an island named Mustique, where he thought there was a large bay with Ethel Waters deep enough to allow a ship to draw near the beach, this was to the south west of the island, he recalled the name of Les Jolies Eaux or exchangeable. It was a place pirates had often used in the past, it might be possible the slavers were there. The French were more inclined to turn a subterfuge eye, as long as there was no trouble.

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

One day later, came the call,"domain ho, four points to larboard."( porthole side today ).

"What canvass ?"the captain hollered.

The observatory reported seeing nothing.

The Captain, was at the chart board, to the First police officer he ordered,"Alter trend to take us east, we'll clear the bay to the South and anchor the early side of the nearest head. If they're there, they won't see our sail."

The mainstay was dropped in only eight fthm of body of water. The long sauceboat was ordered out and duly settled in the water supply alongside. The first off Lieutenant led a party of five skimmer, six Marines, plus one Midshipman.

They were to land at the read/write 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 set up a green flag if they were, red if there was nothing.

triplet minute later, the lookout called,"unripened flag, just below the head word, sir."

The long gravy boat was sent the recall signal. The shipboard soldier under the statement of the Middie remained ashore, as the gravy boat pulled hard, back to the ship.

The slaver were there, one at anchor, the other careened on the beach, an well-heeled quarry it would seem.

Two boats took another 14 shipboard soldier and a handful of seamen ashore.

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

At dawn, we would sail across the rima oris of the bay. The ship would enkindle a admonition shot, to lay close on the anchor vessel. At the Saame time, the Marine would open fire at any gang that was visible.

At the allotted time, we cleared the headland,"Fire when ready,"came the ordination, the chief gunner laid his aim, then touched his burning taper to the inflammation hole. A swarm of smoke, momentarily hid the slaver from view, as the explosion died away the sound of musket fire, from the Marine could be clearly heard.

It was all over, within proceedings the slave dealer had hauled their color, we tacked about, then sailed in, the laboured bow chaser aimed at the slaver, just in case of any trickery.

The maitre d'hotel turned to me,"payoff a boarding party lieutenant, two boats I think will do, and secure that slaver."

The start police officer was to pass another party ashore to take the beached slaver, supported by the marines and sailors already ashore.

It was only a short pull to get us alongside the slave trader, one boat either English and then we boarded, prepare for a fight. The crowd had, however, had already discarded their weapons and offered no electrical resistance, they were leader-less, all of their officers being ashore.

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

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

"amnesty my saying sir, they might not get out live, once they go down there."

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

A call came from the maitre d'hotel'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 room access skeletal system, inches from my head word. She was like a barbarian animate being spitting at me, as she searched for something else to throw.

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

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

She was very tall, her haircloth was long and it crested in a wave above her forehead, her breasts were high and stood out firmly in front of her. I even noticed the brilliant egg white of her perfectly formed dentition. The only mar, if you can call it that, were the practice 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 thoughts came back to realness, as a heavy home base narrowly missed me. There was now though naught else within her reach that she could flip. Her eyes cast desperately about, I could see she was on the threshold of tears, she shrank back from me, as I took a dance step forward.

I placed my pistol and sword on the table, well out of her reach. I held out my paw, palms up, and abandon."It's okay, I mean you no impairment,"I spoke quietly and in a gentle voice, although I doubted she understood a Christian 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 pitcher of water on the tabular array, so I poured a cup, and held it out to her. She looked at me, eyes all-embracing and scared. I slowly moved a pace finisher, she tried to shrink yet further from me, I offered the cup closer, her heart darted from the cup to my face, then back again, but she didn't grasp out.

I lowered myself to kneel, still holding the cup to her and I continued speaking softly. Her bridge player lifted slightly but no to a greater extent, so I leaned and set the cup on the cot in nominal head of her, then I rose and stepped back.

I called out of the cabin,"Fetch the bo'sun for me."I instructed him to post a sentry duty on the cabin, on pain of decease, if he let anyone enter.

On pack of cards once more, I sent a boat ashore with didactics to bring the slave trader Captain back.

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

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

"Senor, I do not know her public figure, she is from N 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 pick up from our physician, that the Wodaabe were a nomadic kindred keep along the southern boundary of the Sahara, they were not Negro, some thought they originated centuries ago from Arab Republic of Egypt. Their spoken communication is entirely unequaled to them, nothing similar is spoken anywhere in the then known Africa.

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

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

"Take 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 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 weal on her arms and shoulders, raging mark showed the drubbing she had been given. I rose to fetch a bowlful and fabric, I dipped the cloth in coldness water, then offered it towards her arm.

She stared at me as I reached out and laid the cloth on her combat injury, I saw her flinch but she remained totally silent, gently I bathed her arm, and then the other. I went to put the cloth to her berm, but again she cringed away, I lay the material on her manus and pointed, she remained still for an age, then put it to her shoulder.

I was surprised when she passed it back to me. I dipped it in the trough, then indicated for her to turn, she didn't appear to get my significance, 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 wale, some were outdoors deletion right across her back. She must throw 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 face me. There was a flavor of marvel on her face.

I took the key from my sac, and held it up, I pointed at her ankle, then tried to indicate a calm motion with my manus. She seemed to realise 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-headed ankle.

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

Making sure the sentry go was at the threshold first, I then went over to the curtain that shielded the Captain's pantry. I found only biscuits, gelt and some dusty 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 tall mallow, she seemed slaked and took a trivial bite.

For the first time, a small smile touched her aspect, as she commenced to eat all the high mallow. 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 gravel. I lifted her arm and guided it to the arm, then pointed to her other arm, this prison term she put her arm though herself, I laid the dog collar gently over her berm

She stood and looked into the mirror and studied her expression, I pointed to my own shirt, showing her how it was tucked into my knee pants. Without hesitation, she lifted the shirt and tucked it into the bird she was wearing.

Her breasts though were still showing at the forepart, I indicated the buttons but she just frowned. Carefully I reached, she made no attempt to intercept me as I fastened two buttons, then she pushed my helping hand away and fastened the rest herself.

I pointed upwards to above deck, and turned to the door, her helping hand took my arm and stopped me, I turned to seem, she gazed at me, then her hand came up, her fingers touched my cheek, then she spoke, I have no idea what she was saying, but I was reassured.

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

The freed slaves now in the undefendable, sitting in the ship's bows, with fresh water to drink in and salt water to bath. None were like her, not in any way.

She saw the slaver's crew, sitting under safety, she went towards them as I followed closely, she stopped in battlefront of one of the Captain, then she spat at him and her mitt shot out and slapped his look with a resounding shot, hard enough to knock him over, for a second 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 bridge player to be helped up and over the position, before climbing down to the boat.

Onshore, I enquired if the physician was about, then found him in a tent set up as a temporary medical room. The female child looked discerning, faced with this barbate teras of a man. But I reached for her hand, carefully pulled up a arm, showing the doc the welts.

He tutted, then swore, but quickly reached for one of his many sess, before he applied a ointment, with tender precaution for such a whale of a man. It must give had an quick soothing effect, I saw her smile, a little more the earlier.

I sat her on a can, and unbuttoned her shirt, to relieve 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 curse as sailors will.

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

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

I pulled her to her invertebrate foot, after replacing her shirt, she turned and touched the medico's deal, saying a few countersign in her unknown language. Then she followed me out.

The headwaiter was striding across the Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin towards us,"well done Lieutenant, a nice job today."He looked at the girl,"The bosun has told me about the daughter, how she was found. He seemed to consider for a minute,"I'm putting you in program line of the slave trader you took, you're to use up the least well of the slave and sweep her to Barbados, the Governor can decide on what better to do with them. As you seem to be the one she trusts, you'll take her with you. How soon can you suffer the ship ready to sail ?"

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

He said that they would delay here with them, as I wouldn't have a big enough crew, to both navigate the ship and have to retain guard on the slavers.

The boatswain soon had the hand occupy sorting canvass and spars, so I was glad to leave him in charge.

The bosun had sent two men to set up a collapsible shelter, just in the tree line, Two crib were installed, a slipstream basin and lowly bench completed the furnishings. One of the seamen lit a fire and set a pot, newly urine boiling for coffee.

The seaman passed us two steaming physiognomy, then saying he would fetch us intellectual nourishment once the cook had produced something to eat, he left us alone.

We had drunk our java, the girl pointed to the Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree, I looked puzzled. She made a"postscript"kind of disturbance, I felt dazed when I understood and must have blushed. She smiled, then disappeared into the trees.

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

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

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

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

I pointed at my breast 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 home of solid 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 pipework, a glass of wine in my hand.

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

I turned the lamp down low, just enough to leave a glow, should she wake. Then I lay down, it had been a retentive and heavy day, in indorsement 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 physical structure alongside mine. I smiled to myself in the dark and went back to sleep.

The early morning dismount struck my font, I jumped awake, then rose and splashed my face. There was no signaling of Fulala, but I smelled chocolate brewing. The tent flapping raised higher, she came in and handed me a cup,"Jim"she said.

A to-do erupted somewhere along the beach, I snatched up my pistol, rushing from the tent. A crowd was gathering just along the Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree blood line. When I had pushed my way through I saw the slaver sea captain swinging from a rope tied to a subdivision above.

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

I frowned at him, wondering how the now short Captain would give birth been capable to get past the sentries and then drown to prop up before hanging himself. It didn't seem at all likely.

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

On card she followed me everywhere, she would never go away my side, I had a lasting apparition. I even saw some of my crew, slyly jog and jiffy at each early. But she would not go near any of them, she would hide behind me should one approach path for instructions.

That evening I sat for a while, once more with my piping, 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 deal, then led me inside. She picked up the pot of unguent provided by the doctor and passed it to me. Facing away from me, she removed her shirt, then stood to wait.

Carefully I applied it to her back, I could see it had much improved, thanks to the doctor. Gently I rubbed some into the welts across her shoulders, then her helping hand came up to deal mine, she held it still for a import, 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 move my hand, around her bosom, she pushed my fingers to a tit, squeezing them around it, I could find it inure under my touch.

She turned to confront me, speaking softly, it seemed to be a chant of some kind. Her finger's breadth went to the push of my shirt, to undo them one by one. She pushed it off of my berm letting it fell to the priming. Her hands came to my chest, her finger's breadth exploring as she appeared to be examining my Elwyn Brooks White skin.

She undid and dropped my breeches, then fetching the stadium, 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 finger. Then she lay beside me, doing nothing else, except look into my nerve, she was waiting for me to make the first move.

Once more I took detention of her breasts, to admire their steadiness and the now very hard teat. I was indeed captivated by their beauty. Her oculus never left mine, the gaze was intent in its scrutiny.

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

I moved my lips towards her, she came to meet them, the kiss was deep and lollygag, her with child mouth were a delight to feel. I pushed my tongue between her brim, she opened to meet me, her natural language exploring mine.

She flinched slightly when my handwriting went to her shoulder, I had for a moment, block her combat injury. Instead, I moved my hired man to her shank and pulled her to me, I felt her push her body at me in reply.

Then her helping hand came between us, to incur my hardening phallus. She caressed it, now squeezing, then stroking along its duration. She teased at the tip, circling her fingers.

My paw 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 rim were full but soft to my fingers.

( generator's not ; The Wodaabe are one of only a few kin group in Africa, that do not practice any var. of circumcision. )

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

Her mouth 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 down, she paused to find my hard chorded stomach muscles. The hand holding my manhood lifted it to her lips, her tongue came out and tasted me. Then her lips opened wide, allowing her mouthpiece to derive, engulfing me. Her head rolled, moving me around inside her mouth

Now, I could feel the wetness between her wooden leg, her hips grinding into my hired man as I teased.

Suddenly she rose above me, changed her body location to range my coxa with her thighs, then to go up herself, as she rubbed my tip along her puss, searching for, and then finding her entrance. She slowly lowered her organic structure to take me inside, down she went as I was absorbed cryptical and deeper.

I felt her muscleman clenching on me, then she leaned her upper body down to my chest, she spoke to me, just before her lips met mine. Her pelvic arch began to rise along my length, then down again, the motion slowly becoming faster, her finger dug deep and hard into my shoulders as her ardour mounted.

She spoke again as her physical structure began to tense up, this time I could judge at what she was telling me, I allowed the flavour surging inside of me a free reign, my hammer responded. She sat back, now upright, her finger clawing at my chest, as she bounced herself furiously.

It was my time, I let loose inside her, I saw her glance at me, she had felt me cumming, then she went fixed, only her hips flexing, driving her orgasm, as she also climaxed.

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

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

( generator's note ; The Wodaabe have completely different views on sex to that of the horse opera world, give up sexual bodily process from pubescence until union is convention, provided it is never expressed in public view. virtually are experienced before their late teens. )

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

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

I had a screen erected across one half of my cabin, more to quell the gossip than for our own privateness. 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 sleepless eye of the defences with their immense canon. We fired six canon, paying our respects to the governor as we cleared the fort.

At the signal arm, I had raised fleur-de-lis, 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 slave 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 job. My tactile sensation for her ran oceanic abyss. It wasn't love, but I knew I had to do More for her, I had no idea what, but knew I must try something.

backbone on control board once more, the Bosun approached me,"Begin your pardon sir, might I be ‘ avin a Bible ? In 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 sir, but I's taken the liberty of speakin'with the hoy Captain. He tells me there be a Plantation proprietor that employs some what was slaves. He says there could be a feller that might be able-bodied to speak with Fulala. Excuse me interferin'like, I hope's I ain't done wrong."

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

The adjacent daybreak, I hired a trap and set off overland for nonsuch St. John, a journeying of some twenty dollar bill odd nautical mile. I was in a desperate hurry, hoping it might be rightful that Fulala and I might at terminal communicate. I wanted to find out more about her.

I watched Fulala as she admired the scenery of the beautiful island. I saw her looking at the gangs of Black person workers we passed, sometimes a look of promise, then disappointment at seeing none of her own mass, I supposed.

The Plantation proprietor was a pleasant character, he showed no reluctance in inviting us both into his home and offer refreshment.

No Oklahoman had I explained my problem, and he promptly called a servant, public speaking in the local patois to him, before the man nodded with a smile, and off he went.

Perhaps half an time of day had passed, when the servant appeared in the room access, another stood behind him. The owner spoke to him, I didn't follow what was said but I did try 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 face, she beamed at him, words gushed from her. The swain raised his hands, indicating for her to slow down, with an obvious crusade she did.

The owner 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 fella then, in halting English, confirmed that Fulala was indeed from the Wodaabe people. The slaveholder targeted their cleaning lady for their sweetheart, they were worth a fortune to them. He explained that Fulala wanted to tell me of her gratitude for her saving, She had come to substantiate that all white multitude were not evil after all, just the slavers. Her fear was for what would turn of her. Could I keep her as a retainer or something, just so long as she could continue with me ?

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

The owner, his name was William Fergus, invited us to stay a few twenty-four hours, if we could. He would involve great pleasure in showing us over the plantation. I was in no hurry to return, my police chief wouldn't arrive for at least another five Clarence Day, or even more.

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

Back at the house in clip for dinner, I was shocked to see Fulala feeler dressed in a gorgeous and brightly coloured frock. She said"Kanu,"pointing at the translator.

Kanu confirmed that his wife had insisted on making the female child decent in front of god-fearing people. I couldn't agree more, as I looked at Fulala, she was just so beautiful.

She looked at me,"how-do-you-do, Jim,"She did a whirl, then paused to think,"Like ?"A pensive look on her face. Her quarrel, albeit, just a few, were in English language, Kanu had been occupy and I was delighted.

I took her hands, pulled her closer and kissed her on the nerve,"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 need to buy a small plantation, that is if there even were such a position available.

The amount he mentioned, did not particularly inspire me with any confidence that there was any opening of my raising the kind of sums 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 future. What did I need ? Where was I going in animation ? And so on. I had been felicitous with my career in the United States Navy, but I knew that I was in a rut. There was little hazard of promotion, with no wars being fought, what with Europe in a res publica of ill at ease truce, I saw little prospect of bettering myself. Maybe it was time to modify counsel. I was by no agency 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 heard my door clear, Fulala peered through the gap,"Please"she said.

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

She dropped the smock she was wearing, then lifting the covers she was beside me, her injury 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 font to her bare chest, for me to treat them in kisses.

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

Roughly, she pushed my head down towards her thighs, whilst pulling my own towards her face. For a import it was an awkward tactical manoeuvre, then my lips were at her snatch and hers found me, as our dead body now faced each other side by side.

My cock was swallowed deep in her mouth, as my finger separated the dither between her second joint, I could see the whiteness inside, that contrasted with her hide. My glossa delved as inscrutable as it could, I wanted to try her, I wanted to climb inside her. I licked up between her lip to get in at her clit, it seemed large to my tongue than it had to my finger, soon it hardened under the my caress.

Two fingers were now inside her, feeling her, teasing her and pleasing her. My bridge player felt the wet, almost pouring from within, her thigh gripped my head, squeezing grueling. I sensed my time was coming, so I lifted my face away and turned my consistence. I lay her prostrate, with me on top of her

Her legs spread wide to fit me as I lowered myself into her, the wetness smoothed the way, as I sunk deep inside her vagina. She bucked her hips up to touch my drive, as we fucked each other.

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

Her hips jab hard at me, we lost the tempo but it didn't issue, she started to escape from under me, the moan became an creature like growl. I tried to fuck harder, but her branch wrapped me in their bosom, pulling me and holding me deep. I could feel her insides milking me as I came, even in my sexual climax I saw the huge quenched smiling on her brass. She pulled my face to hers,"Jim, I love."

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

She clung to my script, even when I had mounted, weeping in her eyes as she spoke in her own language."Don't vexation, Fulala, I'll be back soon, you'll be fine here."She didn't understand me, but she did search a little happier, perhaps it was the softness with which I spoke.

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

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

It was at that mo, I realised what I wanted. It was the trigger I needed. I could resign my direction and easily get an advance against my trophy money.

I went ashore to the top agentive role situation. He was able to advise, as to approximately what my credit currently stood at, based on the prize money leaning. Although he thought it could well be doubling that, once dues were added from later prizes.

My next song was to a plantation sales federal agent, he was indisputable he could demonstrate me something that would satisfy my need and more importantly, be within my budget, there were three possibilities prepare for my inspection should I so wish. I promised that I would be in refer 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 honorable and could be trusted, within intellect anyway.

He knew which were in all likelihood to be two of the properties, one quite close by, not large but viable, it would produce an income, not sufficient to make anyone rich, not by any substance, but that with severe work, it could prosper. He said the Plantation was being worked under a hire agreement but that the star sign were currently empty.

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

We took the cakehole, and half an 60 minutes later, Kanu pointed to a somewhat grow over drive. Turning a box and the household came into sight, I stopped to stare. It wasn't a huge station but it was totally charming. A clout of paint here and there, and it would be restored to life.

I pushed the door open, the hallway was turgid than I expected, the furnishings were covered with material, as they turned out to be in all of the room. It was almost ready and waiting for an occupier.

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

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

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

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

"Fulala will you get hitched with me and exist here with me ?"

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

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

She spoke again, and Kanu translated,"She say you are not pretty man, but big strong man. She think you do not need paint face to take a shit her happy. She also said some early thing, but it is not right for me to say. I think you must ask her yourself when she can speak better English."

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

"Fulala sleep together Jim, is you love Fulala ?"Her side needed work but it was a beginning !

The end .