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.