IPB-137 Black Captain by Martin Jones


Chapter 1


Well, today they were entering the big time for sure, Eflo sighed 
heavily as she entered Captain Happy's elegant suite. Today the first 
of the hostages would be taken and would arrive and talks would begin. 
The Captain would win the independence of his country or he would lose 
and they would all go up in the big bomb, or so Eflo thought. She was 
very, very frightened of the big bomb that was the way the white men 
won their nowadays, so she had heard. But she was far more frightened 
of Captain Happy and did not seriously question what he did ... out 
loud. Oh, she bickered with him sometimes, making weak objections, 
because he was so sure that he liked his women to have minds of their 
own that she didn't dare keep completely quiet. However, she knew that 
if she stood up and said, "Captain Happy, you are doing a silly thing, 
trying to make a whole country out of The Whitelaw Estates," Captain 
Happy would have another woman immediately.

Eflo felt a deep sense of disappointment because Happy wasn't there to 
greet her the way he always used to be when he wanted her during those 
days when he was a common laborer in the white man's mines. She stood 
inside the door for a moment and then she heard him singing off-key in 
that beautiful bass voice of his in the shower. The edges of her 
beautiful full mouth turned up in a broad smile of delight, and the 
first zephyrs of anticipation were already blowing through her belly 
when she moved stealthily to the bed to turn back the rich counterpane. 
God, she had never known there were such things as "counterpanes" 
before.

"Aaaaahhhh," she moaned aloud as she noticed the feelings in her own 
stomach. "More and more I am just a bitch in heat!" Oh, she wanted her 
Happy. She wanted him now, right now, not after his shower and after he 
talked on the telephone and after he talked to the man in the study and 
after all those busy things he was constantly finding to do lately so 
that she just about went out of her mind. She was thirty-five and he 
was ten years older, but that was no excuse to become busier instead of 
sexier. With many men it was exactly the opposite way around, so she 
had heard. There was a vast loneliness aching down there between her 
legs. There really was a problem that she had to solve. It had occurred 
to her that she ought to play hard to get and act coy, and yet she also 
thought it might be wise to take a stronger initiative than she ever 
had. The time had come when she had to choose between these alternative 
courses of action. The time had come when she must either waylay him as 
he came out of the bathroom, his big black chest shiny and sexy with 
the water of his shower or she must avoid him and appear not to care.

She strode across to the large bay windows and gazed out the little 
panes of glass toward the river where dozens of little boats rode, tied 
to their stakes. They bobbed gently up and down on the rough waters, 
waiting patiently for the men to come and use them to catch their fish 
just as she waited patiently for Captain Happy!


End of Page 1. See ipb-137.txt for full story.