When the last of the schoolchildren finally left, Elizabeth sighed and started to prepare the tea. Aston was in the chapel, working. Throwing some coals in the stove, she picked up the letter from home and re-read it for the third time.

Today was her thirtieth birthday, and she was feeling melancholy. She was tired, and bored. She didn’t like living in French Equatorial Africa, as it was now called, nearly as much as she had liked Kenya.

The natives here were far less friendly; at times they were almost hostile. They hated their French rulers, and they failed to make a distinction between the French and the English. After all, they were all white devils, equally unwelcome.

Where the Kenyan natives were grateful for, or at worst neutral to the education their children got at the mission, the FEA natives were reluctant to allow their children to attend the school. They feared they would be brainwashed by the hated Europeans.

The early missions, established by the Catholics, had alienated the natives. They enticed them to convert by giving them incentives, then treated them brutally when they committed sins. Those natives that didn’t convert were left alone when they committed the same sins, so the natives quickly learned not to convert. Their schools offered little more than religious education.

The secular French leaders, on the other hand, were equally repressive to all the natives, convert or not. They forced the men into gathering rubber or working on roads, moving them into unfamiliar climes, where they contracted sleeping sicknesses and other insect borne diseases at an alarming rate. The death rate among the natives climbed precipitously.

They also enforced a quota on growing cotton, which made the natives vulnerable during droughts, as they didn’t have sufficient food crops to sustain them. As a result, the French were subject to a succession of uprisings. They put them down each time, executing the leaders and relocating the other natives to settlings where they could be supervised, but the missionaries were constantly on edge.

To get the handful of children who attended her school, she and Mary had had to go hut to hut, explaining to the mothers the advantages these children would have as adults if they learned French. Opportunities would be open to the natives as the French modernized the country, and the best opportunities would be for those natives that were educated. The natives still couldn’t understand why the girls needed to be educated, but Elizabeth persuaded some to send their daughters. As in Kenya, the brightest part of her days were with the children.

She was still barren, and beginning to think she would always be. Aston didn’t seem to mind, but it bothered her immensely. Every letter she got from her friends from finishing school or from Shanghai included pictures of their growing families.

She knew that Aston was becoming disillusioned as well. He seemed most unhappy, and no wonder. There were virtually no converts, and his sermons were delivered to no more than a handful of parishioners. Elizabeth, sitting on the front pew, had to endure watching Aston’s discomfort as he delivered his uninspired sermons.

The next week, Aston was in the chapel, going through the pile of mail he’d been delivered, when he burst out the door and ran across the yard, waving a letter in his hand.

Rushing into the house, he said, “Darling, look.”

She took the later, but before she could even read it, he said, “It’s the Philadelphia Missionary Council. They want me to come to America and report on conditions and progress here.”

Elizabeth read the letter. The PMC was in charge of the African Inland Mission, and as such, paid their salary. They wanted an experienced missionary to come speak at a number of the churches that sponsored them. Aston had been asked to come to Philadelphia for a month. It remained only for him to make the complicated logistics.

Each year, the PMC had a different missionary speak at the churches that supported them. Donations spiked at such times, so it was an important part of the fund raising needed to support their work across Africa.

He would travel by rail to the coast, then through the Suez canal to the Mediterranean and on to America. He decided to stop in England on his way home to spend a week with his parents. He hadn’t seen them in over ten years. In all, he calculated he’d be gone at least three months.

“I’ll miss you terribly, darling,” he said. “But you know we can’t close the mission, and lose the momentum we’ve built. Nor can we afford the passage for both of us to go.”

Taking her in his arms, he went on, “I know it’s been difficult for you since we left Kenya. I know it’s lonely here in the wilderness. I know you need a vacation badly. As soon as I get back, we’ll see that you get one. Perhaps we can schedule a week in Lake Victoria. Perhaps you can take up your father on his offer to buy you passage to Shanghai for a vacation.”

Elizabeth tried to put on a happy face. She knew it would be a nice break for Aston, and she knew the importance of the trip. She was glad he’d be able to see his parents, whom she had never met.

“I know,” Aston said. “Why don’t you travel with me as far as Kangundo. You could stay at the mission with Thomas and Jane for a fortnight. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind, and it would allow you to catch up with our old friends there.”

Elizabeth’s heart leapt in her breast. The first thing she thought of was Captain Waltham. She knew, from the letters she received from her friends in Kangundo that he was still stationed nearby, and still attended their dinner parties, alone.

The last three weeks before they left Kangundo, while Aston and David were building the new compound in FEA, they had carried on a torrid affair, all the steamier knowing that they would never see each other again. Try as she might to convince herself she would be true, she trembled with anticipation at the prospect of seeing the handsome Captain again.

She often thought of Captain Waltham, especially while lying awake at night after Aston had aroused her, then frustrated her with his quick lovemaking. Today she thought of nothing else but Captain Waltham all day, and by the time she was ready for bed, she frantically needed relief from the sexual urges she felt.

Aston showed no signs that he would climb on her tonight. He didn’t have that look in his eyes that he displayed when ready. She sat in her dressing area, the door open, combing out her long, red hair as he lay on the bed in his nightclothes.

Coming into the bedroom, she hung her robe over the chair and stood in her nightgown, silhouetted against the dressing room lantern. She made a pretext of stretching broadly, her arms above her head while she yawned. Aston could see her nipples poking the material of her gown, and saw them sway as she stretched.

He began to become aroused, as Elizabeth had planned.

“Well, I guess now that I’m an old woman of thirty, you’ll probably have no further interest in me,” she said, coyly.

“Come here, you,” he said, pulling her toward him on the bed. “You know that’s not true. You’re still the fairest lass in all the land.”

They kissed deeply, then she put her head on his chest as he caressed her hair. His hands began to stray about her body, increasing his arousal.

“Shall I get the light, darling,” he said.

“Hang the light,” she said.

She fumbled with the waistband of his nightclothes, taking it off. His stiff dick was exposed to her eyes for the first time in their marriage. Aston appeared a little uncomfortable, but as he began taking off her gown, and beholding her beautiful, white skin and pink nipples, and especially her little wisps of red hair about her genitals and under her arms, he grew frantically horny.

When he began to push her off his chest, onto her back, she resisted. Throwing a leg over his body, she straddled his crotch. Tonight, she would be on top. Aston was a bit surprised, but in no mood to argue, so long as he would have her.

Never had Aston seen a more beautiful sight than her perfectly shaped breasts hanging over his eyes, the puffy nipples begging to be fondled. They were more beautiful than he could have imagined.

As he played with them, she worked her way onto his shaft. Once it was firmly planted in her, she began stroking it. Her hands on his chest, she raised and lowered her rump, pulling his dick the length of her shaft.

Aston began groaning, and Elizabeth immediately stopped pumping. She gave him fifteen seconds to compose himself, then she began anew. Each time, as his face contorted into grimace, indicating he was approaching the point of no return, she stopped altogether, allowing his impending orgasm to wane.

Again, he neared orgasm, bucking his hips wildly and groaning loudly. Elizabeth stopped, but too late. His eyelids fluttered and he grunted as his thick sperm began to flow. Realizing he was cumming, she resumed pumping frantically, milking every drop out of his long dick.

She anxiously listened for the soft breathing that would indicate he was sleeping, then she reached under her covers and found her pleasure. She impatiently looked forward to this moment all day, since first hearing that she would be going back to Kangundo, knowing that she would see Captain Waltham.

As she slowly rubbed her pussy, she imagined him spanking her arse, then rubbing it and filling her womanhood with his dick. Her pussy still tingled from the ride she had taken on Aston as she fantasized about Captain Waltham.

Over and over she climbed toward orgasm, only to stop at the decisive moment, drawing out her pleasure as long as she was able. She didn’t remember ever being so aroused. Her pussy expanded to easily take three of her fingers, and more if she had wished, as she pumped them in and out while rubbing her clit.

She had been toying herself for more than thirty minutes, and had stopped short of orgasm at least fifteen times. She was driving herself mad with desire. Once more she stopped, dangerously close to the precipice, and waited for her orgasm to wane before starting again.

This time, however, she teetered on the edge of orgasm. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful. Suddenly, without touching herself, she was falling over the edge into a massive climax.

Unknowingly, she let out a sob, then another, as the waves of pleasure coursed through her body.

“Dearest, are you alright,” Aston said, alarmed, as he sat bolt upright.

He held her.

“Why, you’re shaking like a leaf, and your heart is racing. Whatever is wrong, darling.”

“It’s nothing,” Elizabeth stammered. “I must have had a bad dream.”

Aston wondered, as he had felt her hand between her legs when he first grabbed her. But he said nothing.

They sent a letter along to Thomas and Jane, letting them know when they would arrive. There would be no time for a reply, but they knew it would be alright. There was plenty of room at the mission in one of the outhouses.

Aston borrowed a carriage and horse from the Catholic mission, and they set off. David would drive them to Kangundo, then they would continue on to the village of Mary’s birth, where Mary would visit her family while David returned to the mission to tend the animals. Then, a week later, he would turn around and come back to pick them all up.

There was a hint of coolness in the morning air, with a big, clear, blue sky. Elizabeth felt exhilarated. She didn’t realize until this moment just how badly she had needed a break from the monotony.

“Aston, darling, promise me that we’ll be more intentional about taking a vacation each year going forward.”

He patted her hand, saying, “Of course, darling. Capital idea. I’ve been remiss.”

The truth was, Aston also felt an extra spring in his step today. He was so excited about his trip, he was almost giddy. He realized just how down his mood had been before. Elizabeth was right; they needed to take more time to enjoy life, and each other. He was still somewhat shocked at her behavior the other night, but he glowed when he thought of it. He was going to miss her over the next three months.

They slept inside the walls of settlements along the way, stopping before nightfall. Finally, they reached their destination. Happily, their letter had gotten through. Not only were they expected, there was to be a dinner party the following night attended by all the settlers. All their old friends would be there, in addition to new arrivals. Elizabeth couldn’t believe that five years had passed since they were last here.

They immediately noticed that Jane was quite heavy with child. Elizabeth offered her congratulations, but Jane seemed surprisingly unexcited about it. Thomas and Jane offered their bed to the older couple, but they wouldn’t hear of it.

“Nice of you, old sport,” Aston said, “but we’ll be fine in the chapel. We’ll cozy up on the floor with some blankets.”

They were both excited as they washed up and dressed for the dinner party, especially Elizabeth, who was looking forward to seeing her Captain Waltham. She wasn’t disappointed; he arrived, meticulously groomed, as always, looking better than she remembered.

The couple had such a nice evening, they couldn’t remember a finer. By contrast, they realized how drab their lives had become in the FEA.

The next morning, as Elizabeth watched Aston do his final packing, she said, “Darling, I hate our assignment. Do you think you could talk to them about a switch?”

Aston was surprised, though after the initial shock, he had to agree.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Somewhere English, somewhere with white settlers. I love it here in Kangundo. Somewhere like here.”

“I suppose I can ask,” he said.

“Please do, dear.”

He held her chin and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“I will, dear. I promise. I’ll write every day, reams and reams. I’ll describe every sight I see, so you’ll feel as though you were there as well.”

Then he was gone, and Elizabeth was alone with Jane, while Thomas worked in the chapel.

“Tell me everything, dear,” Elizabeth said, taking Jane’s hands and looking into her eyes.

Jane was still terribly homely, but at least she appeared to be blossoming somewhat. She had actually said a few words at table the previous evening, and her family condition seemed to put somewhat of a glow on her pasty skin.

“Well, I can tell you I love it here,” Jane said. “This big, open land is good for the spirit. My corner of London was extremely gray. I can feel the change in my bones. I never want to go back.”

Elizabeth was jealous of Jane’s good fortune to be assigned in Kangundo. She missed it terribly. She was also jealous of her condition. She desperately longed to have a child.

“Are you terribly excited about having a child?” she asked.

Jane simply looked away.

“What’s wrong, dear?” she asked. “Why, you’re crying. Whatever is the matter? Are you nervous?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” she said. “Silly little twit.”

“You are not,” Elizabeth said. “You’re fine. Who wouldn’t be nervous, especially their first time. You’ll be fine.”

Elizabeth sat quietly, observing Jane working with the children. She was not a good teacher; she didn’t keep the children engaged, she wasn’t well spoken, her Swahili WAS still unpolished. But, she wasn’t horrible either. As they compared notes, after the class, she realized that Jane loved the children as much as she herself did.

That afternoon, at teatime, Captain Waltham showed up, leading his horse to the trough. Elizabeth had felt certain he would show up. She didn’t know if it would be the very first day, but she knew he would show.

“Why, what a pleasant surprise, Captain Waltham. Are you in the habit of taking tea with the Faulk’s?

He looked at Jane. It was obvious that he was not in the habit of taking tea with the Faulk’s, and he colored slightly, as it was obvious that Elizabeth was having a bit of fun at his expense again. She had picked up right where she had left off, years ago. If he wasn’t so certain of success with her, he would have left now, but he was anxious to renew their relationship.

Jane invited him in, and they sat sipping their tea. Conversation lagged, and they were a bit uneasy. Jane wasn’t surprised that Waltham had shown up as soon as Aston left. She had been scandalized by Elizabeth’s behavior when the men had been gone, building the new mission in FEA.

Waltham expected Elizabeth to make an excuse for them to leave together, but when one wasn’t forthcoming, he begged his pardon and left, cursing himself for putting her in position over him again. He hated the woman, but desperately wanted to split her in two with his hard dick. He knew he would, but she would make him know who was calling the shots in the meanwhile.

“Well, that was a pleasant surprise,” Elizabeth said, after he had left. “Does he visit often?”

Jane knew she was playing with her, and didn’t answer. The woman was positively scandalous. Her indiscretions were so obvious, it embarrassed Jane. She hadn’t changed a bit.

As night began to fall, Elizabeth heard the familiar sound of a wagon entering the compound. Looking at Jane, she was shocked at her reaction. It appeared that Jane was going to faint. Her complexion became even pastier, if possible, and she clasped and unclasped her hands.

“Whatever is the matter, child?” Elizabeth asked. “It’s just that old goat, John Brown.”

Jane stammered incomprehensively. Elizabeth tried to imagine what could agitate the child, then came to the realization that the crude boor must have scared the poor thing. It’s not hard to imagine how such a skittish deer as Jane could be cowed by the blustery old blowhard.

Thomas came out of the chapel and shook hands with Brown, as Brown watered his beast. Reaching into his wagon, Brown brought out a package and gave it to Thomas. It was the finest Turkish tobacco. Faulk was an inveterate pipe smoker, and he greatly appreciated the excellent tobacco that Brown brought him. They spoke briefly, then Thomas excused himself, promising to come in when his work was done, and Brown approached the house.

Pounding on the door, he walked into the kitchen.

Seeing Jane, he said, “Ah, g’day, bird.”

Then he saw Elizabeth. Jane shrank into her chair, a look of fear on her face. Elizabeth immediately realized that the scoundrel was using Jane, as he had used her. She was shocked, though her opinion of Jane rose a bit in her estimation.

“Why, good evening, Mr. Brown,” she said, cooly.

“What a pleasant surprise. Hello, lass. What brings you this way?”

“Just a visit.”

“Well, welcome then. Am I too late for tea?”

“By hours,” Elizabeth said.

Elizabeth would have been unable to say why she was so furious with the scoundrel. Was it because he was taking advantage of the young Jane, as he had taken advantage of herself when she had been of a similar age? Is it because she was jealous, wanting his fat cock for herself? Was it because she despised herself for having previously enjoyed the advances of the crusty lecher?

Whatever the reason, she was so infuriated with him, she found it difficult to be civil.

Jane said nothing. She sat, looking down at her lap, silent, as Elizabeth lashed out at him. Suddenly, Elizabeth came to the realization that Jane feared her child could be Brown’s. She immediately felt great sorrow for the girl, who must be dreading the birth of the child. She imagined a fat, ugly, hairy baby that looked just like Brown.

It didn’t take long for Brown to retreat from the sharp tongue of Elizabeth. Jane never said a word. She just sat there, unable to understand the unusual dynamics that caused the extreme tension. Elizabeth followed him out, to give him a piece of her mind. She had never been more angry.

As she approached the barn, she noticed Brown retrieving something from the back of the wagon. She watched him, unseen, as he stole the package out and walked to the front of the cart. He slid a couple of bolts holding the seat to the floorboard, and the entire seat tilted forward, bringing part of the floorboard with it, opening a secret compartment under the seat. He dropped the package in the compartment, set the seat back upright, and slid the bolts, locking the seat in place. Elizabeth walked away as he walked back into the yard.

“Lovely seeing you again, bird,” he said to Elizabeth, tipping his hat at her.

“Ffffffffft,” she said, gesturing at him.

He smiled at her and said, “I guess you wouldn’t be so dismissive of me if you didn’t have your Captain Waltham to rub your needy little cunny.”

She boiled, so angry she could spit blood, but there was nothing to say. Obviously, Jane had let slip that she was seeing the Captain. She turned on her heel and walked back to the house, as Brown chuckled.

Brown would stay another day, at least, as he was waiting on more inventory to arrive on the rail. He went into the settlement to gamble and drink.

Captain Waltham didn’t come back the next day, and Elizabeth stewed, not knowing if, or when he would come to her. She seethed, knowing how much he would enjoy her anxiousness. She longed to make the arrogant man pay.

Brown arrived late, drunk. As Elizabeth walked out the house to visit the outhouse, Brown stumbled into the compound and they met. Elizabeth bristled at his presence.

“Ah, what luck. ‘ello, bird,” he hicced.

“Bug off,” she said.

“Ah, now why do you have to be that way?” he said. “’aven’t we ad our share of fun, bird?”

He grabbed her, pawing at her dress.

“Leave me alone, you swine,” she said.

Stumbling away from her, he said, “’ave it your own way, bird. No skin off my nose.”

With that, he stumbled behind the barn, peed, then went inside and passed out. Breathing hard, angry, Elizabeth finished her business and went to bed.

Finally, two days later, the Captain arrived again at the compound. He hopped off his horse, leading it to the trough, and walked toward the house as he removed his gloves.

“Good, day, Captain Waltham,” said Thomas, as he walked out of his chapel to shake hands with the tall man. “What news?”

“Nothing, new, Reverend,” he said, tipping his hat.

The reverend didn’t like a single man coming round, with Elizabeth’s husband gone. Jane had filled him in on their scandalous behavior as well, but Thomas wouldn’t make a scene.

“Why, good afternoon, Captain,” Elizabeth said, cooly. “What’s your business, today?”

“Just checking on my chickens,” Waltham said. “Making sure all is well.”

Jane said nothing, shocked at the behavior of the older woman, but unwilling to say anything.

“I wonder if you’d give me a ride to the station to check my mail,” Elizabeth said. “I’m expecting a post, and I’d prefer to get it sooner than later.”

Once again, Jane was flabbergasted at the blatantly improper behavior. Determined not to allow it to continue in her house, she decided to say something.

“I say, Mrs. Larksley, perhaps it would be more proper if we sent Mr. Faulk.”

“Perhaps we should ask Mr. Brown to come back to take us both,” Elizabeth said.

Immediately she regretted saying it. Jane was crestfallen, and Elizabeth wanted so much to eat her words and apologize. Jane shrank away, and the couple left.

“What was that?” Waltham asked as they left.

“Never mind.”

They rode to their spot, and alit, falling into each other’s arms. Struggling with each other’s clothes, they finally got them off and wrestled, nude, kissing and rolling in the grass.

Elizabeth wound up on top and straddled her Captain as he suckled her puffy nipples into his mouth. She arched her back, pumping his dick furiously. His dick filled her so completely, she groaned in pleasure. He pulled her down to his mouth and kissed her, their lips parting, as he filled her with his sperm.

Back home, Jane looked into her lap as she asked, “Do you love him?”

Elizabeth couldn’t believe she had broached the subject.

“Hmmm? Who?”

“Why, Captain Waltham. Do you love him?”

“No, I despise him. Do you love John Brown?

Jane began crying. Again, Elizabeth despised herself for being so mean. She didn’t know why she had said that.

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I hate myself,” Jane said.

“You do not,” Elizabeth said. “There’s no reason to hate yourself. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You can’t mean that?”

“Yes, I do. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

They sat, not talking, just thinking.

Mr. Faulk was already abed. He was an extremely early riser, and went to bed very early, sleeping soundly through the night.

“Do you mind if I feel the baby?” Elizabeth asked.

“Okay,” Jane said.

Elizabeth slid over next to Jane on the couch and rubbed her belly.

Jane held her hand over her belly and said, “Right here. You can feel him kick sometimes.”

Elizabeth couldn’t feel anything.

“You must be excited,” Elizabeth said.

Jane said nothing.

“You poor dear”, Elizabeth said. “It will be all right.”

“I’ve been such a fool,” Jane lamented.

Elizabeth felt so badly for her.

“Oh,” Jane said, her countenance brightening. “It’s got the hiccups. Feel.”

She held Elizabeth’s had on her stomach, and Elizabeth could feel the spasms of the baby’s hiccups. The girls laughed.

Suddenly Jane’s expression darkened again, and she asked, “How could I have been so foolish?”

“Shh, you weren’t foolish. It feels so good. Nobody ever told us it was supposed to feel so good. Our husbands never told us it was supposed to be so good.”

As she spoke, she pressed against Jane, her hand rubbing her large belly.

“It’s decadent,” Jane said. “Sinful.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll grant you that. But it’s delicious, will you deny that?”

“No,” Jane said, looking downcast. “I can’t stop myself.”

“Do you ever touch yourself down there?” Elizabeth said, tentatively.

“Mrs. Larksley!”

“Shh. There’s nothing wrong with it. I do so ever so often. I can’t help it. It feels so good. Don’t you?”

Jane said nothing.

“You do, don’t you?”

Again, she sat silent, looking down into her lap. Elizabeth allowed her hand to slide under Jane’s dress and she brought her hand up to rub Jane’s pregnant belly under her clothing.

“Please, Mrs. Larksley,” she pleaded.

Elizabeth rubbed her belly. It was very sensual, rubbing the large, pregnant belly. She could feel the baby kick occasionally. Jane leaned back as Elizabeth rubbed ever widening circles, eventually reaching her knickers. Pushing them aside, she reached in and felt another woman’s vagina for the first time in her life.

She couldn’t have told you what caused her to act so, but it seemed natural at the time. She knew exactly the feelings that Jane was having. The extreme pleasure she felt at a man other than her husband rubbing her cunt. The guilt she felt about it. The remorse. Every feeling that Jane felt, Elizabeth had felt before.

She knew exactly how to pleasure a vagina, and with Jane next to her, reluctant to allow herself the pleasure, she felt compelled to show her that it was alright to enjoy her body. As Jane leaned back, shrinking away from her, Elizabeth leaned in and felt her womanhood, touching her the way she herself knew she loved to be touched.

Jane gasped, shocked that she would be handled so. Her legs stiffened and clamped together. Elizabeth continued caressing her pussy until her legs softened, spreading. She reached her hand up her dress and found her breasts. Even with her pregnancy, her breasts were barely as large as Elizabeth’s. She was not well endowed, but her nipples were long and stiff. She gasped again, as Elizabeth kneaded her stiff nipples.

Since Jane had begun to show, neither her husband nor Brown would have her. They assumed she wouldn’t want sex, now that she was pregnant. But the truth was, Jane had never in her life been so horny as she was now. Hormones raced through her body, causing her to ache for orgasm, but she had never touched herself. The only orgasms she had ever had were when Brown pawed her.

Working back toward her groin, Elizabeth found the wetness of her hole and worked her fingers in. Now Jane did not resist; she was beginning to breathe hard, and she spread her legs to accommodate Elizabeth’s touch. Finally, somebody was touching her where she longed to be touched.

Elizabeth leaned into her and clamped her lips on Jane’s as she began fingering her clit in earnest. Jane’s grunting was stifled by their kiss as Elizabeth rubbed unrelentingly on her clit.

When Jane climaxed, her belly bounced with the kicks of the baby inside. The spasms of her pussy, while it orgasmed, clamped onto Elizabeth’s fingers. Elizabeth had never seen what it looked like when a woman orgasmed. It was nice. After the events of the day, with both Captain Waltham and Jane, she was so aroused she would have to take care of herself.

She said goodnight, and went outside, to hit the outhouse and then retire in the chapel. After she walked out of the outhouse, Brown surprised her, grabbing her about the waist and clamping a hand over her mouth.

“Shh,” he said, releasing her mouth.

“You scoundrel,” she said. “Release me.”

“Surely, darlin’,” he said.

But he continued holding her around the waist, pulling her to him. He smelt strong of tobacco and whiskey. She crinkled her nose at his stench.

“I just want to touch you a bit, bird. No harm.”

“Get away from me,” she hissed.

“Now, now, is that any way to be?” he said, as he drew her closer.

Holding her about the waist, he clamped his huge mitt over her mound, rubbing it. He buried his face in her neck. She could feel his warm breath on her as he pressed his huge penis against her buttocks.

All the rage she felt against him came back, and she would have loved nothing better than to kill this beast. The world would be a better place without him. She thought of Jane, pregnant, fearful that the child would be his. He was an animal that took his pleasure with no thought of anything but his groin.

As he rubbed his penis against her and cupped his hand over her mound, she began to ache to have his rough hands find her opening, to have the cad paw her breasts, to have him use her as he wished. She wanted, in short, to be taken hard, to be rubbed until her cunt exploded in orgasm, as only Brown seemed able or willing to do.

They shrank to the shadows, and Brown dropped his trousers around his feet. He pawed at her dress, trying to unbutton it. In his haste, he threatened to tear it, and she reached behind, helping. When it was halfway unbuttoned he spread it from her shoulders and allowed it to fall to the ground, then pulled her shift over her head and dropped her knickers.

She stood totally naked in the yard, and he immediately pressed his groin against her, taking her from behind. They stumbled, falling to the ground, and she barked her shins painfully. He never stopped, and they rolled in the dirt.

He reached into her groin and found her button. He pounded her vagina with his thick dick, rubbing her clit until she climaxed. As she shuddered her orgasm, he grunted and filled her with his thick squirt. He slobbered on her neck as he spewed.

She had never felt so violated and used as she did with Brown, and it was indescribably delicious and wicked. If Aston could arouse her half as much, they would have an incredible sex life. She rose, wiping the dust off of her, picked up her dress and walked off to the chapel.

The next morning, Elizabeth announced that she needed to get back to her mission, and that Brown had offered her a ride. The Faulk’s stirred their tea, looking down, unsure what to say. They couldn’t believe that this woman would risk her reputation so.

Elizabeth was upbeat.

“I just don’t feel right, leaving the children. Now that Mr. Larksley’s gone, I hate sitting here enjoying myself while the children languish. I must be getting back, and Mr. Brown’s been nice enough to offer a ride. Thank you ever so much for your hospitality.”

In the end, they rode off, the Faulk’s saying nothing but feeling deep shame for the woman. They couldn’t believe she would risk her reputation, and her husband’s so.

Elizabeth could have had another week or more with the handsome Captain, rather than spending a week bouncing on the rough cargo wagon of the odious Brown, but nobody thrilled her more than the nasty, filthy trader. The prospect of spending a week with the lecherous, filthy man, excited her more than anything she had ever anticipated.

She could toy with the tall, strong Captain, bending him to her desire, whereas the filthy trader treated her like a filthy whore. She couldn’t begin to tell you why she preferred the rough treatment of the trader, but she tingled when she thought of his rough touch on her body.

They stopped mid-morning at a brook, and allowed the beast a long drink. Brown dipped a large pot into the brook and took a long swig, then offered some to Elizabeth.

“In a hurry to get back, are ye?”

“Not so much,” she said. “I was ready to leave.”

Truth is, she didn’t care if she ever returned to FEA, but she loved the prospect of being used by Brown when he felt like it. He felt like it now, and he pressed himself against her.

“I’ve missed you, bird. I’ve not met a woman more to my liking.”

She didn’t care for his words, but she had greatly missed his touch. She allowed him to fondle her through her dress. As he became more aroused, he became rougher. Lifting her dress, he penetrated her with his fingers.

“Rub me,” she said, pressing against him.

“Rub me where,” he said, teasingly.

“Shut up,” she said.

He began playing with her little pussy, and she held her body against him, leaning into him for support. He slipped his dick out of his pants and pulled down her knickers, then worked his fat dick into her. He had just squirted the night before, so it wasn’t very hard, but it was thick and as he worked it into her, he rubbed her clit.

She reveled in the feel of his thumb on her clit. Nobody else had ever worried about her orgasms as Brown had. He pumped his dick in and out of her as he rubbed her clit. Because he had cum the night before, he lasted a long time. She climaxed noisily, and as she did, he pressed against her, groaning as he squirted into her.

As they held each other, he asked, “How old are ye, darlin’.”

“I’m thirty,” she said.

“I have a daughter who’s about that age,” he said, reflectively. “I haven’t thought about her in a very long time. I wonder how she’s doing.”

They took their time travelling back to the mission, spending the nights in each other’s arms. When they got back, they sent David to pick up Mary, and had another week together alone. They lay as husband and wife together in Aston’s bed, making passionate love every day.

Brown’s libido barely allowed him an erection after the second night, but Elizabeth took advantage of even the slightest bit of an erection, cramming it into her needy cunt, rubbing herself if Brown wouldn’t, cumming more than once most days, at least once every day.

Each week, Elizabeth received several letters from Aston. They described life in America, which seemed fantastically impossible to imagine. Philadelphia had a population of over one and a half million persons, and the sights that Aston described were incredible. His letters arrived sporadically, many at a time, with gaps in between. Finally he was in England, visiting his parents, describing an England she had never known. Her parents continued urging her to visit, offering to pay the passage.

During this period, Brown visited often, attending to her needs. The filthy, drunken sot sickened her, but she couldn’t resist allowing him to have his way with her. She never felt so alive as when his dirty hands pawed her fair skin, setting her desire afire.

Finally, he was on his way, and she forbade Brown visiting anymore. David and Mary knew he was having her; they had to have known, they weren’t fools. The day arrived, and he was home, holding her, hugging her. They talked on top of each other, excited, and fell into their bedroom. It was broad daylight, but they fell to, touching, taking off their clothes until they were naked, and they coupled.

They lay together, naked, for hours, talking and cooing. They enjoyed each other immensely. Finally, they got up, put on their bedclothes, and fixed a tea.

“Did you ask them about another assignment?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“No word.”

“No word?”

“No. I’ll press on, I promise, darling.”

“Oh, I do so dislike it here, darling. Can’t we leave?”

“We’ll see.”

Their life quickly settled back into the monotony it had been before. Elizabeth wondered if she would ever leave this drab life. She hated the FEA. It was 1913, and she was now thirty two years old.

Meanwhile, the winds of war were quickly gathering over Europe, casting a dark shadow over Africa. The decaying Ottoman Empire was being chipped away; first by Italy, then Greece. Now the nations of Serbia, Greece, Montenegro and Bulgaria formed the Balkan League, inflaming tensions in Austria-Hungary, who feared a strong Serbian state.

Alliances were being formed that would lead to a multinational conflict, and it was increasingly apparent that Africa would be drawn in. With the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria and his wife at the hands of the Young Bosnians, as they called themselves, the tinderbox of Europe was ignited into all out war.

Everybody believed that France would be crushed by the vastly superior German empire. England had pledged their allegiance to France, but would they step in? It was clear that Germany would never attack England; it would be suicide to do so. Elizabeth desperately wanted to return to Kenya, where they would be safe under the Union Jack.

Finally, word came from the Mission Council, and they were permitted to return to Kenya. There was an opening at Nairobi, where the previous missionary was retiring. It was a large city, with a large population of white settlers. Elizabeth was extremely pleased.

The war passed them by, for the most part. While Europe reeled from the huge loss of life and property, Africa was poised to prosper in the post WWI era. Elizabeth counted her thirty sixth birthday.

to be continued