Love At Sea: De La en Glässer

Big boy, big

Macmillan set aside his drink and stared at the hut nearest to him. He knew at once he would kill any dick headed prick that came close to Bernadette. "Though I have tried to stop it. Some time back the British sailed to these lands wanting to conquer and explore- under the queen's name of course. Some were missionaries and some just thieves. The missionaries preached the word of God and even taught the people English -well some of them bothered to learn, but they helped in many ways such as construction, dressings and all but the other group of white men destroyed the little they had, killed many men and forcefully took the women and children as sex slaves for their pleasure. They came in search of the gold that is buried in these grounds." The mention of gold had Macmillan's ears perked up. "Though no one knows where it is or even if there is any gold buried anywhere." The man blabbed on out of point. "The missionaries stayed and tried to help but the natives were more than hurt and wanted all white men far and gone, they were given an option of leaving forcefully or peacefully. I took from where they stopped and tried to help, some of them believe in God, but most only come because they know I can only do them a favour after preaching to them, so they kindly sit and wait for the sermon to finish and then well-"

"Frank?" It was the fifth time Macmillan had called the man since his blabbering began. Distractedly Frank tore his gaze from the young woman he had seen enter one of the village huts to stare at the white man. "Hm?" Macmillan turned his full attention and even body towards him. "This treasure you speak of. Do you possibly know where it might-" He was interrupted by a stone landing in his cup. He looked up and it was the same small man from the compound." You come. Chef call you." Macmillan rose so did Frank. "I hope you have a lovely stay here for how ever long you will be staying. I bid you a good evening." He turned for his door and walked in.

The smaller man waited for him. Once he was in close proximity the man took a step back and held his nose. "You smell bad, you come, you bath." Was Macmillan meant to be offended by that statement? Of course, he certainly was. No-one in their right minds would tell anyone directly to their faces. 'you smell bad you need a bath' though he did smell sweaty and his body itched with the heat it received and the mosquitos that generously sucked at his flesh. "Come come". The man called out. They walked through another path of long thick grass and stones. The trees that graced the path were covered in ripe fruit of mangoes and various colours of sweet-smelling flowers. The leaves and brunches were so thick that they helped in blocking the scorching sun by giving the area the cool of an evening breeze. "You bath. Me wait here. You bath." He pointed to a river that sat just behind a small hill. He was handed an ill fitting clothe with its colour close to black than brown. "You bath. Me wait here. Chef call you. Go." He pulled out a pocket knife and cut a fruit from one of the trees then settled himself to his juiciness.

Macmillan turned for the course of the water. He heard giggles from afar. Apparently it was not a private bathing place and he was not alone. Nude bodies played in the water with most of them being well padded in places that could make a man leave everything for the soft lips between a woman's curvy hips. The giggles stopped and the women turned towards him. One made hand gestures towards the others. "You white man. Mummy me tell you big boy, big." She made her right hand into a fist and run her left hand along the length of her right. Her dark brown eyes watched him, and he felt more than uncomfortable. She dipped two fingers in her mouth as she rose from underneath the water. Small droplets of water ran down her body. Her breasts were big and full, her nipples dark and covered by the long length of her hair. He stared. He could not deny she was beautiful. He was a man and it was only natural for him to look. She was after all the one naked who was seductively making her way towards him. He took a step back, but she followed, a dreamy look on her face.

"Mummy say you big boy, me want big boy, me good girl." Macmillan squeezed his eyes shut and placed the hideous clothe he had been given on her bare shoulder. "I would like to bath miss, if you do not mind." He still had his eyes squeezed shut just like how he used to while as boy as his father shouted at him. His hands were tight fists behind his back and the only thing he dared think of was his nude Bernadette and not the devil tempting woman that stood proud and tall before him. Some noises were made and a splash of water followed. He opened his eyes just in time to catch the girl glare at the small man that sat his ground. "She go tell mummy you no give her. She beautiful, she want you." Macmillan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I do not want her, and I will not take a woman to bed just because she wants me". The man's mouth hanged open and the small of his fruit dropped out. "But?" He stood up and looked around then took a few steps to where the lord stood. "She beautiful." He made movements with his hands to describe her breathtaking body. "You no want? All man want. She is good, she chief man daughter."

Macmillan shook his head firmly as he undid his soaking leather boots. His feet felt pure bliss as they touched the roughness of the ground. He turned to the man. "Me not want". He said simply, though the man did seem to have taken offence from Macmillan's words, it was after all how they spoke to one another. He decided on washing his shoes first before any other part of his body. The sun seemed hot and would dry up its wetness before the morn. "Me call Ostamana. Me chef warrior four son, me big boy." He sat down with Macmillan and looked back at the direction the woman had gone. "She Soma Na Ta. She me call small boy. She big boy want. She big boy you want." Macmillan shook his head no, as he stood up. He took his first steps into the cold refreshing water. A soft chill run down his body as he dived in. He searched the crystal clear waters for any prying females before brining his head out for air. Ostamana was by the bank, another fruit in his hands. He seemed content with life. No one else seemed to be close by so he did the unfastening of his pants and washed them clean the best way he could. They would have to dry on him he thought.

By the time he was done it was already dark. Traditional drums played in the distance and the distant colour of smoke rose up to the sky. The people sat down in groups all eating together. Even Ostamana seemed happy with the portion of food he was given. Soma Na Ta sat by her father listening in to the stories the elders were telling, but that did not mean she did not spare him a glance or two. He heard movement from the inside of his appointed hut and he stood. The curtain was finally drawn open and two woman as well as Ahi An Ma walked out. "Wife sleep, wife clean now." "Thank you. May I go in?" He moved for the door but she held his hand firmly. "Wife sleep, wife tired, you wife no wake." He nodded.

"And here I thought I had died and was in heaven. But creatures in heaven do not grunt like animals, they talk and not communicate with hand signals." He smiled his first genuine smile for the day, how he had missed her. "And to have thought you looked angelic while asleep." "I had a fever. You should be grateful I am awake and alive. Gosh those awful concoctions." Macmillan moved to her side and took up the second low stool. "I am more than pleased you are alive you had me worried." He placed his palm to her forehead, though she was still hot, it was not death worrying. "Great now we can leave. I can not stand that old woman. She kept on looking in between my legs and touching my tummy. What the hell?" All Macmillan could do was watch her rumble on. Her lips moved in slow seductive motions and the only thing that ran through his mind was how it would taste molded up with his. "And then she pocked me and- are you even listening?" He nodded.

Another thing he had learnt from his sister and mother was to never admit you were not listening while they complained about whatever it is that they could not have. "Yes, sticks and picks. I heard." He lowered himself to her level and kissed her forehead. She let out a heavenly sigh as she rested her head ion his warm hard shoulder. "Now we can go home, can we? I am not complaining. I am just uncomfortable here. We can look for the crew and board the ship and sail back, you have finished your business here have you not? Done your trade?" Bernadette stared up at him. Slow shivers run through his veins, and he felt himself raise up. If there was ever a beauty, then it was the fair lassy that rested her chin on him. "The ship was destroyed." "Ah, the mighty De La En Glässer is now to the hands of the sea. Well, I will be damned." He held her chin. "I am a man without ship or crew. We might be stuck here a little while."

"Oh." Bernadette had not actually thought of their situation in such a way. "When did this happen?" "While you were asleep." He pushed her hair to the side and stroked her soft cheek. "You missed me?" She could not help but ask. Her breaths came out so slowly that even breathing seemed unimportant unlike the man that sat next to her. "I did terribly, you had me worried Bernadette and that stunt you pulled. Truly you are a lot to handle. A fierce woman and I love that." She could not help but blush. "I am not a lot to handle. You just can not handle me well or at all." "Trust me I am learning how to handle you darling." "And how is that coming along?" "Like I said I am learning how to handle you. So, its fair." He brought his lips down to a soft brush on hers.

"You know the lady that pocked and pricked will not be happy if she finds you awake. You are meant to be sleeping." Bernadette sighed. "Well not after that vile drink she forced down my throat. It felt like I was eating some kind of wiggling poisonous snake." A thought occurred to her. "Where are we?" The last thing she could remember was being swoped up bride style from her master's bed and being dumped in some round object were she had her ass pressed up to his manhood for the rest of the ride. Not that she was complaining.

It was the most uncomfortable journey she had ever made in her life, and that was her saying something. Had it not been for the skilled hands of the women, she would have woken up with a crocked back. Again, she was not complaining, she assured herself. She was more pleased that they were alive and probably safe than at sea with men that wanted their heads.

Cont'd.