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 farseeing level, only sex, then please don't read.

All references to the Wodaabe kindred are absolutely accurate.

Excuse any inaccuracies with regards to metre and space, 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 slaveholder. In fact, for five workweek now, we had been cruising the southern islands of the Caribbean.

We had sighted them once, two ships close to the horizon, but near plenty for the best top man to be able to fix out their sail rig, we knew it was them.

Their course had suggested that they were making for Guiana in South United States, they were trying to run the blockade of the royal stag USN, that had been set up after most European countries 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 throw for a prophylactic haven, especially if you were too far from earth. Any ships caught at sea were in serious problem, especially anything pocket-size, the only dependable place was one of the well-sheltered harbours.

We were stopping point to bring down but with no suitable harbour close by, we had no choice but to run before the wind. This in itself has not been easygoing, we had only just managed to pull in the tip of one island, in constant danger of the wind driving us ashore, where we would give foundered on the vicious John Rock we could see all too clearly, just a one hundred pace off our beam.

The slavers had faced exactly the Saami plight, but their form had allowed them to pass to the east of the islands, where-as, we had been forced to the west.

For three daylight we rode the storm, sails ripped away, spars broken like match-sticks, mountainous sea battering the ship. Most of the crew had never before been so frightened, even some of the sometime 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 canvass left intact. A topsy-turvydom of hanging roofy and railings smashed. Even two gunman had broken adrift below, smashing everything in their track, before the foreman Gunner and his gun crews somehow managed to procure them safely once more.

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

The initiative Mate reported to the Captain, that although the ship had sprung at least two planks below the water line, for the bit the heart were coping well enough at keeping the water in the bilges at a safety level. But, he pointed out we could only care a few mean solar day of pumping before we ran out of men fit sufficiency to man the ticker. Quite a number were carrying injuries, such as a divulge arm or a badly turned ankle, the doctor had been kept busy.

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

The slavers had disappeared, they could be anywhere by now if they had survived the violent storm that is. go the thought, of the predicament of those poor psyche, chained below decks, life would consume been sheer hell for them, and no hazard of survival should their ship have suffered any mishap. The slavers would not deliver released them from their prison, they would have drowned, chained where they were.

The headwaiter had decided that we set a course that would carry us between Granada and St. Vincent, allowing us a shadowy chance of sighting our prey. Failing any sighting, we would continue N to St. Lucia, a desirable shoes to gestate out the necessary haunt we needed.

It was the boatswain who suggested to the Captain that perhaps he make a small detour to the east, he seemed to remember an island named Mustique, where he thought there was a big bay with waters deep enough to allow for 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 place pirate had often used in the past times, it might be possible the slavers were there. The French were more inclined 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 shout,"Land ho, four points to larboard."( port side today ).

"What sail ?"the police chief hollered.

The lookout man reported seeing nothing.

The Captain, was at the chart table, to the First officer he ordered,"Alter track to take us east, we'll clear the bay to the south and anchor the other slope of the nearest promontory. If they're there, they won't see our sail."

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

They were to down at the principal of the small bay, from there trek to the top of the promontory, where, if the slavers were there, they would see them below. He would levy a green flag if they were, red if there was nothing.

ternion time of day later, the spotter called,"Green flag, just below the head, sir."

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

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

Two gravy boat took another fourteen Marine and a handful of seamen ashore.

The Captain's programme was for the leatherneck and a handful of boater to expect until midnight before crossing the headland, to choose up a position in the bush and trees overlooking the beach.

At aurora, we would sail across the rima oris of the bay. The ship would fire a monition shooter, to lay close on the anchor vas. At the same time, the marines would open fire at any crew that was visible.

At the allotted time, we cleared the headland,"Fire when ready,"came the order, the Chief Gunner laid his aim, then touched his burning taper to the firing jam. A cloud of smoke, momentarily hid the slaver from view, as the explosion died away the phone of musket firing, from the marines could be clearly heard.

It was all over, within hour the slavers had hauled their coloring, we tacked about, then sailed in, the with child bow chaser aimed at the slaver, just in casing of any trickery.

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

The start ship's officer was to lead another company ashore to take the beached slaver, supported by the shipboard soldier and Panama already ashore.

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

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

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

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

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

A shout came from the police captain's companionway."Sir, I think you needs be seein'this."He led the way to the police captain 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 blade flying at me, I ducked and heard the clump as it buried into the door framing, inches from my headway. She was like a wild fleshly spitting at me, as she searched for something else to throw.

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

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

She was very magniloquent, her hair's-breadth 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 white of her perfectly formed tooth. The solitary blemish, if you can call off it that, were the patterns scarred across her boldness 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 idea came back to world, as a heavy plate narrowly missed me. There was now though nothing else within her scope that she could hold. Her eyes cast desperately about, I could see she was on the sceptre of tear, she shrank back from me, as I took a step forward.

I placed my pistol and sword on the board, well out of her scope. I held out my helping hand, palms up, and empty."It's okay, I mean you no harm,"I spoke quietly and in a gentle voice, although I doubted she understood a Scripture 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 wide and scared. I slowly moved a step closer, she tried to cringe yet further from me, I offered the cup finisher, her oculus 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 bridge player lifted slightly but no Thomas More, so I leaned and set the cup on the cot in front line of her, then I rose and stepped back.

I called out of the cabin,"Fetch the bosun for me."I instructed him to come out a guard on the cabin, on annoyance of death, if he let anyone enter.

On deck once more, I sent a gravy boat ashore with instruction to contribute the slave owner 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 death chair at his table."Tie him up,"I ordered.

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

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

Later I would get a line from our doctor, that the Wodaabe were a roving tribe living along the southerly edges of the Sahara Desert, they were not Black person, some thought they originated one C ago from Arab Republic of Egypt. Their speech is entirely alone to them, nothing interchangeable is spoken anywhere in the then known Africa.

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

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

"proceeds 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 lookout man and indicated for him to take 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 minute she was free.

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

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

I was surprised when she passed it back to me. I dipped it in the bowl, then indicated for her to sour, she didn't appear to get my meaning, so I pointed at my backrest 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 open deletion right across her spine. She must have been in fearsome 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 look of wonder on her face.

I took the key from my air pocket, and held it up, I pointed at her articulatio talocruralis, then tried to show a still apparent motion with my manus. She seemed to understand because she gave me a humble nod. I unlocked her restraint and waited for her to run, but instead, she sat and rubbed at her self-conceited ankle.

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

fashioning for certain the guard duty was at the room access first, I then went over to the curtain that shielded the Captain's pantry. I found only biscuits, bread and some stale cheese, I piled some on a collection plate and took them back to her. She took some dinero and ate, I watched as she sniffed at the cheese, she seemed satisfied and took a little bite.

For the initiatory meter, a low smile touched her face, as she commenced to eat all the cheese. I fetched the cup of water to her, she drank again, thirstily.

I found one of the senior pilot silk shirts and held it to her, but she looked puzzled. I lifted her arm and guided it to the arm, then pointed to her other arm, this time she put her arm though herself, I laid the shoe 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 falter, she lifted the shirt and tucked it into the dame she was wearing.

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

I pointed upwards to above deck, and turned to the room access, her hand took my arm and stopped me, I turned to look, she gazed at me, then her bridge player came up, her finger touched my boldness, then she spoke, I have no idea what she was saying, but I was reassured.

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

The loose hard worker now in the surface, sitting in the ship's bow, with fresh H2O to drink and salt water to bathe. None were like her, not in any way.

She saw the slave trader's crew, sitting under precaution, she went towards them as I followed closely, she stopped in presence of one of the Captain, then she spat at him and her paw dig out and slapped his cheek with a resounding tornado, hard enough to knock him over, for a minute 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 shoring, she nodded and took my extend hand to be helped up and over the side, 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 checkup room. The girl looked apprehensive, faced with this beard behemoth of a man. But I reached for her helping hand, carefully pulled up a sleeve, showing the doctor the welts.

He tutted, then swore, but quickly reached for one of his many mickle, before he applied a salve, with tender fear for such a goliath of a man. It must have had an immediate soothing outcome, I saw her smiling, a little more the earlier.

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

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

The Bosun had entered, he saw her back, I heard him cuss as sailors will.

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

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

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

The senior pilot was striding across the moxie towards us,"well done lieutenant, a skillful job today."He looked at the daughter,"The bo'sun has told me about the girl, how she was found. He seemed to consider for a import,"I'm putting you in command of the slave owner you took, you're to take the to the lowest degree well of the slaves and navigate her to Barbados, the regulator can decide on what best to do with them. As you seem to be the one she trusts, you'll take her with you. How soon can you stimulate the ship cook to sail ?"

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

He said that they would stay here with them, as I wouldn't have a large sufficiency crew, to both sail the ship and have to keep guard on the slavers.

The bosun soon had the hands engaged sorting sail and spar, so I was glad to pull up stakes him in charge.

The bo'sun had sent two men to erect a tent, just in the tree pedigree, Two cots were installed, a wash basin and small-scale bench completed the trappings. One of the seafarer lit a flak and set a pot, fresh urine boiling for coffee.

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

We had drunk our java, the girl pointed to the trees, I looked puzzled. She made a"Pssss"sort of haphazardness, I felt dullard when I understood and must have blushed. She smiled, then disappeared into the trees.

I realised my fault, 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 side to protect her back, as I sat and studied her. She was beautiful, of that there was no dubiety.

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

Sometime later, I gently shook her awake, her care came back, her bridge player raised to strike out at me, then sentience dawned on her face, she took my hands and spoke, naturally I knew not what she said.

I pointed at my chest of drawers 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 scale of food, she looked at the fork, then chose the spoon to eat. As soon as she had finished, she returned to the cot, she was clearly exhausted.

I sat and smoked my organ pipe, a spyglass of wine-colored in my hand.

Darkness 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 pass on a radiance, should she rouse. 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 bureau, I felt her body alongside mine. I smiled to myself in the darkness and went back to sleep.

The early morning light struck my face, I jumped awake, then rose and splashed my cheek. There was no sign of Fulala, but I smelled coffee brewing. The collapsible shelter flutter raised mellow, she came in and handed me a cup,"Jim"she said.

A kerfuffle erupted somewhere along the beach, I snatched up my shooting iron, rushing from the tent. A crowd was gathering just along the tree bank line. When I had pushed my way through I saw the slaver Captain swinging from a forget me drug tied to a branch above.

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

I frowned at him, wondering how the now dead Captain would bear been able to get past the sentries and then swim to prop before hanging himself. It didn't seem at all likely.

backbone 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 train of strange words, then stormed off towards the boat.

On board she followed me everywhere, she would never will my side, I had a permanent wave phantom. I even saw some of my gang, slyly nudge and blink at each former. But she would not go near any of them, she would hide behind me should one approaching for instructions.

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

My pipe empty, she stood and took my handwriting, then led me inside. She picked up the pot of salve provided by the doctor and passed it to me. Facing away from me, she removed her shirt, then stood to wait.

Carefully I applied it to her back, I could see it had much improved, thanks to the doctor. Gently I rubbed some into the wheal across her shoulder joint, then her deal came up to address mine, she held it still for a consequence, then she was pulling my hand down to her bosom, she held it to her, once More just holding it still, then she began to travel my script, around her breasts, she pushed my fingers to a nipple, squeezing them around it, I could feel it harden under my touch.

She turned to face me, speaking softly, it seemed to be a chant of some kind. Her fingers went to the clit of my shirt, to undo them one by one. She pushed it off of my shoulder letting it fell to the ground. Her handwriting came to my pectus, her fingers exploring as she appeared to be examining my snowy skin.

She undid and dropped my breeches, then fetching the sports 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 helping hand to her, she took it in hers, raised it to her brim, and she kissed my fingers. Then she lay beside me, doing nothing else, except feeling into my face, she was waiting for me to make the for the first time move.

Once More I took grasp of her breasts, to admire their firmness and the now very gruelling pap. I was indeed captivated by their stunner. Her eyes never left mine, the gaze was purport 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 foregather them, the kiss was cryptic and mill about, her large lips were a delectation to feel. I pushed my tongue between her backtalk, she opened to foregather me, her tongue exploring mine.

She flinched slightly when my hand went to her shoulder, I had for a present moment, forgotten her injuries. Instead, I moved my handwriting to her waist and pulled her to me, I felt her push her body at me in response.

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

My deal was pulled from her waist as she raised a knee, to push me between her pegleg. She was not circumcised as are many African girls, her sassing were full but flabby to my fingers.

( author's not ; The Wodaabe are one of only a few kindred in Africa, that do not practice any figure of circumcision. )

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

Her back talk left mine and moved to my chest, her tongue and sass roamed over me. She kissed my nipples, gently bit with her tooth. Then continuing on down, she paused to feel my hard chorded stomach muscleman. The hand holding my manhood lifted it to her sassing, her tongue came out and tasted me. Then her lip opened across-the-board, allowing her rima oris to descend, engulfing me. Her head rolled, moving me around inside her lip

Now, I could sense the wetness between her ramification, her rose hip grinding into my hired man as I teased.

Suddenly she rose above me, changed her physical structure position to straddle my hips with her thighs, then to move up herself, as she rubbed my tip along her slit, searching for, and then finding her entryway. She slowly lowered her consistency to take me inside, down she went as I was absorbed deeply and deeper.

I felt her musculus clenching on me, then she leaned her upper body down to my chest, she spoke to me, just before her lips met mine. Her hips began to rise along my length, then down again, the motion slowly becoming faster, her fingers dug trench and hard into my shoulder as her ardour mounted.

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

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

I was spent, completely drained, when she fell forward, her head nestled to my neck, her deal holding my arms. Still, she gently rocked her pussy on my tool, a soft caress.

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

( author's promissory note ; The Wodaabe have completely different persuasion on sex to that of the western world, free sexual bodily function from puberty until marriage is normal, provided it is never expressed in public purview. Most are experienced before their former teens. )

The next day, we sailed for Barbados, heading for the capital of capital of Barbados. The voyage would be ho-hum having to tack constantly, the current of air at this prison term of year, would always be against us, It would be a tiring journey with only a modest crew.

Looking at a map, you might think it to be only a five or six mean solar day sail but it actually took nearly two weeks.

I had a screen erected across one one-half of my cabin, more to quench 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 sail, beneath the insomniac eye of the defences with their vast canyon. We fired six canon, paying our respects to the Governor as we cleared the fort.

At the sign arm, I had raised flags, requesting I might be received as soon as possible, I wanted to change province for the freed slaves as quickly as possible.

Two time of day later, the regulator's aide had agreed to take the slaves off my hired man, 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 problem. My feelings for her ran oceanic abyss. It wasn't love, but I knew I had to do more for her, I had no thought what, but knew I must try something.

Back on display board once more, the Bosun approached me,"Begin your forgiveness 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 picayune smiling, She smiled back. She had by now accepted him as somebody she could entrust, 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 lighter Captain. He tells me there be a plantation owner that employs some what was striver. He says there could be a fella that might be able to verbalise with Fulala. Excuse me interferin'like, I hope's I ain't done wrong."

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

The future aurora, I hired a trap and set off overland for Saint Gospel According to John, a journey of some XX odd miles. I was in a desperate hurry, hoping it might be true that Fulala and I might at final 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 dim workers we passed, sometimes a look of hope, then disappointment at seeing none of her own people, I supposed.

The Plantation possessor was a pleasant graphic symbol, he showed no hesitation in inviting us both into his home and offer refreshment.

No Oklahoman had I explained my trouble, and he promptly called a servant, speech production in the local patois to him, before the man nodded with a grin, and off he went.

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

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

It was as if the sun shone from her expression, she beamed at him, words gushed from her. The fellow raised his bridge player, indicating for her to slack down, with an obvious exploit she did.

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

A long conversation ensued, whilst I sat impatiently waiting. The beau then, in halting English, confirmed that Fulala was indeed from the Wodaabe masses. The slave owner targeted their women for their knockout, they were worth a fate to them. He explained that Fulala wanted to tell me of her gratitude for her delivery, She had come to earn that all Theodore Harold White people were not evil after all, just the slaver. Her fright was for what would become of her. Could I keep her as a servant or something, just so long as she could remain with me ?

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

The owner, his name was William Fergus, invited us to stay on a few solar day, if we could. He would admit with child pleasure in showing us over the plantation. I was in no hurry to recall, my police chief wouldn't arrive for at least another five twenty-four hour period, or even more.

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

backrest at the house in fourth dimension 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 wife had insisted on making the girl decent in front of devout people. I couldn't agree more, as I looked at Fulala, she was just so beautiful.

She looked at me,"hi, Jim,"She did a twirl, then paused to think,"Like ?"A pensive feel on her aspect. Her words, albeit, just a few, were in English, Kanu had been interfering and I was delighted.

I took her hired man, pulled her closer and kissed her on the impertinence,"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 purchase a diminished plantation, that is if there even were such a topographic point available.

The amount he mentioned, did not particularly inspire me with any sureness that there was any possibleness of my raising the kind of nub involved.

Later following a pleasant evening and after brandy, taken along with my pipe, we retired to our various rooms. I lay for some time pondering on my futurity. What did I want ? Where was I going in life ? And so on. I had been happy with my career in the navy blue, but I knew that I was in a rut. There was little chance of publicity, with no wars being fought, what with Europe in a state of unquiet armistice, I saw little prospect of bettering myself. Maybe it was time to change direction. I was by no means rich, yes I had prize monies owed me, and the capture of the slave dealer would add to that, but was it enough ?

I saw rather than get wind my door subject, Fulala peered through the gap,"Please"she said.

In reception to my nod, she closed the door behind her and ran quietly barefoot to me."how-do-you-do Jim"it didn't seem to quite fit the state of affairs, but it was overnice none-the-less.

She dropped the dust coat she was wearing, then lifting the masking she was beside me, her accidental 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 expression to her bare boob, for me to cover them in kisses.

Her bridge player went straight between my branch, to lift my cock, then she massaged me, bringing lifetime and a rapidly rising urge.

Roughly, she pushed my head down towards her thigh, whilst pulling my own towards her face. For a moment it was an sticky manoeuvre, then my lips were at her pussy and hers found me, as our body now faced each other side of meat by side.

My pecker was swallowed recondite in her mouth, as my fingers separated the flaps between her second joint, I could see the innocence inside, that contrasted with her hide. My spit delved as deep as it could, I wanted to taste her, I wanted to rise inside her. I licked up between her mouth to get in at her clit, it seemed declamatory to my tongue than it had to my fingers, soon it hardened under the my caress.

Two finger's breadth were now inside her, feeling her, teasing her and pleasing her. My hand felt the wet, almost pouring from within, her second joint gripped my straits, squeezing heavy. I sensed my time was coming, so I lifted my look away and turned my consistence. I lay her matt, with me on top of her

Her legs spread all-embracing to meet 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 fulfill my thrusts, as we fucked each other.

"Jim, Jim, Jim,"was all she said, then she was moaning softly, her finger's breadth pulling my hair. Just as she always did, her torso tensed, so I knew her climax was close.

Her hips poke hard at me, we lost the pacing but it didn't matter, she started to escape from under me, the moan became an animal like growl. I tried to fuck harder, but her branch wrapped me in their embrace, pulling me and holding me mysterious. I could palpate her interior milking me as I came, even in my orgasm I saw the huge satisfied grin on her human face. She pulled my case to hers,"Jim, I love."

The following day, William suggested that Fulala should stay there, while I returned to Bridgetown. He said Kanu and his wife were willing to consume 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, tears in her heart as she spoke in her own linguistic communication."Don't worry, Fulala, I'll be back soon, you'll be OK here."She didn't understand me, but she did look a little happier, perhaps it was the gentleness with which I spoke.

The Captain's ship arrived the next day, along with the former slaver. I reported on board and appraised the senior pilot 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 funfair to her, allowing her to perhaps be reading something into her site that I couldn't possibly deliver.

It was at that consequence, I realised what I wanted. It was the trigger I needed. I could release my charge and easily get an advance against my prize money.

I went ashore to the Crown Agents office. He was able to advise, as to approximately what my credit currently stood at, based on the plunder money leaning. Although he thought it could well be dual that, once dues were added from later prizes.

My next birdcall was to a orchard sales agreement federal agent, he was sure enough he could show me something that would fulfil my needs and more importantly, be within my budget, there were three possibilities set for my review should I so wish. I promised that I would be in touch as soon as I could.

dorsum at the plantation, I could see no sign of Fulala but found William on his veranda. I explained to him my thought, he said the agent was honorable and could be trusted, within reason anyway.

He knew which were likely to be two of the properties, one quite closing curtain by, not big but viable, it would produce an income, not sufficient to make anyone rich, not by any way, but that with hard employment, it could prosper. He said the plantation was being worked under a lease agreement but that the menage were currently empty.

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

We took the sand trap, and half an hour later, Kanu pointed to a somewhat overgrown parkway. Turning a corner and the firm came into position, I stopped to stare. It wasn't a huge office but it was totally charming. A lick of rouge here and there, and it would be restored to life.

I pushed the doorway open, the hallway was tumid than I expected, the furnishings were covered with cloths, as they turned out to be in all of the rooms. 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 turn my home. I suddenly noticed that Fulala was wearing a amaze 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 showing dissimilar emotions.

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

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

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

Then he explained,"Wodaabe men have to paint face and facial expression 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 potent man. She think you do not need paint face to pretend her happy. She also said some other things, but it is not proper for me to say. I think you must ask her yourself when she can verbalize better English."

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

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

The end .