My Secret Life - Erotic Diary - Victorian Life

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Erotic Diary - Victorian Life</div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Knowledge Box Archive "><U><B><IMG SRC="0086e320.jpg" border=0 width="110" height="50" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"> back to Directory </B></U></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Knowledge Box Archive "><U><B>back to Directory / hist</B></U></A></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div> <I>My Secret Life - Erotic Diary - Victorian Life</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>*</I><I>My Secret Life*, like *A Man and a Maid*, is one of those erotic classics which has rarely been out of print since its original publication. The identity of the author itself has been the subject of a number of books, including Ian Gibson's *The Erotomaniac* in which Gibson maintains that Walter was really Henry Spencer Ashbee, a friend of Sir Richard Burton and Lord Houghton.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Banned for over 100 years</I></div> <div> <I>My Secret Life was first published between 1888-1894 in 11 volumes in Amsterdam by the Belgian-born bookseller/publisher Auguste Brancart. For the next hundred years, it remained banned and considered obscene and pornographic.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"...a parade of genitalia, pornographic writing of the most explicit and lascivious kind .. unusual as a surviving piece of hardcore Victorian pornographic writing" -- review by Maya Mirsky.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My Secret Life By Walter</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 1.</I><I> Earliest recollections • An erotic nursemaid • Ladies abed • My cock • A frisky governess • Cousin Fred • Thoughts on pudenda • A female pedlar • Baudy pictures • A naked baby</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My earliest recollections of things sexual are of what I think must have occurred some time between my age of five and eight years. I tell of them just as I recollect them, without attempt to fill in what seems probable.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She was I suppose my nursemaid. I recollect that she sometimes held my little prick when I piddled, was it needful to do so? I don't know. She attempted to pull my prepuce back, when, and how often, I know not. But I am clear about seeing the prick tip show, of feeling pain, of yelling out, of her soothing me, and of this occurring more than once. She comes to my memory as a shortish, fattish, young female, and that she often felt my prick.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One day, it must have been late in the afternoon for the sun was low but shining-how strange I should recollect that so clearly - but I have always recollected sunshine, - I had been walking out with her, toys had been bought me, we were both carrying them, she stopped and talked to some men, one caught hold of her and kissed her, I felt frightened, it was near a coach stand, for hackney coaches were there, cabs were not then known, she put what toys she had on to my hands and went into a house with a man. What house? I don't know. Probably a public-house, for there was one not far from a coach stand, and not far from our house. She came out and we went home.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then I was in our house in a carpeted room with her; it could not have been the nursery I know, sitting on the floor with my toys; so was she; as played with me and the toys, we rolled over each other on the floor in fun, I have a recollection of having done that with others, and of my father and mother being in that room at times with me playing. She kissed, me, got out my cock, and played with it, took one of my hands and put it underneath her clothes. It felt rough there, that's all, she moved my little hand violently there, then she felt my cock and again hurt me, I recollect seeing the red tip appear as she pulled down the prepuce, and my crying out, and her quieting me. Then of her being on her back, of my striding across or between her legs, and her heaving me up and down, and my riding cockhorse and that it was not the first time I had done so; then I fell flat on her, she heaved me up and down and squeezed me till I cried. I scrambled off of her, and in doing so my hand, or foot, went through a drum I had been drumming on, at which I cried.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>As I sat crying on the floor beside her, I recollect her naked legs, and one of her hands shaking violently beneath her petticoats, and of my having some vague notion that the woman was ill; I felt timid. All was for a moment quiet, her hand ceased, still she lay on her back, and I saw her thighs, then turning round she drew me to her, kissed me and tranquillised me. As she turned round I saw one side of her backside, I leant over it and laid my face on it crying about my broken drum, the evening sunbeams made it all bright, it had at some time been raining, I recollect.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I expect I must have seen her cunt, as I sat beside her naked thigh. Looking towards her and crying about my broken drum, and when I saw her hand moving no doubt she was frigging. Yet I have not the slightest recollection of her cunt, nor of anything more than I have told. But of having seen her naked thighs I am certain, I seem often to have seen them, but cannot feel certain of that.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The oddest thing is that whilst I early recollected more or less clearly what took place two or three years, later on, and ever afterwards, on sexual matters, and what I said, heard, and did, nearly consecutively, this, my first recollection of cock and cunt, escaped my memory for full twenty years.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then one day, talking with the husband of one of my cousins, about infantine incidents, he told me some thing which had occurred to him in his childhood; and suddenly, almost as quickly as a magic lantern throws a picture on to a wall, this which had occurred to me came into my mind. I have since thought over it a hundred times, but cannot recollect one circumstance relating to the adventure more than I have told.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My mother had been giving advice to my cousin about nursemaids. They were not to be trusted. "When Walter was a little fellow, she had dismissed a filthy creature, whom she had detected in abominable practices with one of her children*; what they were my mother never disclosed. She hated indelicacies of any sort, and usually cut short allusion to them by saying, it is not a subject to talk about, lets talk of some thing else: My cousin told her husband, and when we were together he told me, and his own experiences, and then all the circumstances, came into my mind, just as I have told here.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I could not, as the reader will hear, thoroughly uncover my prick tip without pain till I was sixteen years old, nor well then when quite stiff unless it went up a cunt. My nursemaid I expect thought this curious, and tried to remedy the error in my make, and hurt me. My mother, by her extremely delicate feeling, shut herself off from much knowledge of the world, which was the reason why she had such implicit belief in my virtue, until I had seen twenty-two years, and kept, or nearly so, a French harlot. I imagine I must have slept with this nursemaid, and certainly I did with some female, in a room called the Chinese room, on account of the color of the wall papers. I recollect a female being there in bed with me, that I awoke one morning feeling very hot and stifled, and that my head was against flesh; that flesh was all about me, my mouth and nose being embedded in hair, or some thing scrubby, which had a hot peculiar odour. I have a recollection of a pair of hands suddenly clutching and dragging me up on to the pillow, and of daylight then. I have no recollection of a word being uttered. This incident I could not long have forgotten, having told my cousin heard of it before my father did. He used to say it was the governess. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I suppose I must have slipped down in my sleep, till my head laid against her belly and cunt: Some years afterwards, when I got the smell of another woman's cunt on my fingers, it at once reminded me of the smell I had under my nose in the bed; and I knew at a flash that I had smelt cunt before and recollected where, but no more.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>How long after I have no idea, but it seems like two or three years, there was a dance in our house, several relations were to stop the night with us, the house was full, there was bustle, the shifting of beds, the governess going into a servant's room to sleep, and so on. Some female cousins were amongst those stopping with us; going into the drawing-room suddenly, I heard my mother saying to one of my aunts, "Walter is after all but a child, and it's only for one night.' 'Hush-hush,' both said as they saw me, then my mother sent me out of the room, wondering why they were talking about me, and feeling curious and annoyed at being sent away.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had been in the habit then of sleeping in a room either with another bed in it or close to a room leading out of it, with another bed, I cannot recollect which; I used to call out to whoever might have been there when I was in bed: for being timid, the door was kept open for me. It could not have been a man who slept there, for the men-servants slept on the ground floor, I have seen their beds there. The night I speak of, my bed was taken out, and put into the Chinese-paper room, one of the maids who helped to move it sat on the pot and piddled; I heard the rattle, and as far as I can recollect it was the first time I noticed anything of the sort, tho I recollect well seeing women putting on their stockings and feeling the thigh of one of them just above her knee. I was kneeling on the floor at the time and had a trumpet, which she took angrily out of my hand soon afterwards, because I made a noise.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I recollect the dance, that I danced with a tall lady, that my mother, contrary to custom as it seems to me, put me to bed herself, and that it was before the dance was over, for I felt angry and tearful at being put to bed so early. My mother closed the curtains quite tightly all round a small four post bed, and told me I was to lie quietly and not get up till she came to me in the morning; not to speak, nor undo my curtains, nor to get out of bed, or I should disturb Mr. and Mrs. *** who were to sleep in the big bed; that it would make them angry if I did. I am almost certain she named a lady and her husband who were going to stay with us; but can't be sure. A man then frightened me more than a woman, my mother I dare say knew that.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I dare say, for it was the same the greater part of my early life that I went to sleep directly I laid down, usually never awaking till the morning. Certainly I must have gone fast asleep that night; Perhaps I had had a little wine given me who knows, I have a sudden consciousness of a light, and hear someone say, "He is fast asleep, don't make a noise"; it seemed like my mother's voice. I rouse myself and listen, the circumstances are strange, the room strange, it excites me, and I rise on my knees, I don't know whether naturally, or cautiously, or how; perhaps cautiously, because I fear angering my mother, and the gentleman; perhaps a sexual instinct makes me curious, though that is not probable. I have not in fact the slightest conception of the actuating motive, but I sat up and listened. There were two females talking, laughing quietly and moving about, I heard a rattling in the pot, then a rest, then again a rattle and knew the sound of piddling. How long I listened I don't know, I might have dozed and awakened again, I saw lights moved about; then I crawled on my knees, with fear that I was doing wrong, and pushed a little aside the curtains where they met at the bottom of the bed. I recollect them being quite tight by the tucking in, and that I could not easily make an opening to peep through. There was a girl, or young woman, with her back to me, brushing her hair, another was standing by her, one took a night gown off the chair, shook it out, and dropped it over her head, after drawing off her chemise. As this was done I saw some black at the bottom of her belly, a fear came over me that I was doing wrong and should be punished if found looking, and I laid down wondering at it all; I fancy I again slept.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then there was a shuffling about, and again it seems as if I heard a noise like piddling, the light was put out, I felt agitated, I heard the women kiss, one say "Hish! you will wake that brat," then one said, "Listen" then I heard kisses and breathing like some one sighing, I thought some one must be ill and felt alarmed and must then have fallen asleep. I do not know who the women were, they must have been my cousins, or young ladies who had come to the dance. That was the first time I recollect seeing the hair of a cunt, though I must have seen it before, for I recollect at times a female (most likely a nursemaid) stand naked, but don't recollect noticing anything black between her thighs, nor did I think about it at an afterwards.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>In the morning my mother came and took me up to her room, where she dressed me; as she left the room, she said to the females in bed they were not to hurry up, she had only fetched Walter.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>But all this only came vividly to my mind when, a few years after, I began to talk about women with my cousin, and we told each other all we had seen, and heard, about females.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Until I was about twelve years old I never went to school, these was a governess in the house who instructed me and the other children, my father was nearly always at home. I was carefully kept from the grooms and other men servants; once I recollect getting to the stable yard and seeing a stallion mount a mare, his prick go right out of sight in what appeared to me to be the mare's bottom of father appearing and calling out, "What does that boy do there?" and my being hustled away. I had scarcely a boy acquaintance, excepting among my cousins, and therefore did not learn as much about sexual matters as boys early do at schools. I did not know what the stallion was doing, I could have had no notion of it then, nor did I think about it.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The next thing I clearly recollect, was one of my male cousins stopping with us, we walked out, and when piddling together against a hedge, his saying, "Shew me your cock, Walter, and I will chew you mine." We stood and examined each other's cocks, and for the first time I became conscious that I could not get my foreskin easily back like other boys. I pulled his backwards and forwards. He hurt me, laughed and sneered at me, another boy came and I think another, we all compared cocks, and mine was the only one which would not unskin, they jeered me, I burst into tears, and went away thanking there was some thing wrong with me, and was ashamed to shew my cock again, tho I set to work earnestly to try to pull the foreskin back, but always desisted, fearing the pain, for I was very sensitive.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My cousin then told me that girls had no cock, but only a hole they piddled out of, we were always talking about them, but I don't recollect the word cunt, nor that I attached any lewed idea to a girl's pidding hole, or to their cocks being flat, an expression heard I think at the same period. It remained only in my mind that my cock and the girls hole were to piddle out of, and nothing more I cannot be certain about my age at this time.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Afterwards I went to that uncle's house often, my cousin Fred was to be put to school, and we talked a great deal more about girls' cocks, which began to interest me much. He had never seen one, he said, but he knew that they had two holes, one four bogging and the other to piddle from. They sit down to piddle said he, they don't piddle against a wall as we do, but that I must have known already, afterwards I felt very curious about the matter. One day, one of his sisters left the room where we were sitting. "She is going to piddle," he said to me. We sneaked into a bedroom of one of them one day and gravely looked into the pot to see what piddle was in it. Whether we expected to find any thing different from what there was in our own chamber pot I do not know. When talking about these things my cousin would twiddle his cock. We wondered how the piddle came out, if they wetted their legs and if the hole was near the bum hole, or where; one day Fred and I pissed against each other's cocks, and thought it excellent fun.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I recollect being very curious indeed about the way girls piddled after this, and seeing them piddle became a taste I have kept all my life. I would listen at the bed room doors, if I could get near them unobserved, when my mother, sister, the governess, or a servant went in, hoping to hear the rattle and often succeeded. It was accompanied by no sexual desire or idea, as far as I can recollect; I had no cock-stand, and am sure that I then did not know that the woman had a hole called a cunt and used it for fucking. I can recall no idea of the sort, it was simple curiosity to know something about those whom I instinctively felt were made different from myself. What sort of a hole could it be, I wondered? Was it large? Was it sound? Why did they squat instead of stand up like men? My curiosity became intense. How long after this the following took place I can't say, but my cock was bigger. I have that impression very distinctly.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One day, there were people in one of the sitting rooms; where my mother and father were I don't know; they were not in the room, and were most likely out. There were one or two of my cousins, some youths, my big sister and one brother, besides others, our governess, and her sister, who was stopping with us, and sleeping in the same room with her. I recollect both going into the bedroom together, it was next to mine. It was evening, we had sweet wine, cake, and snap-dragon, and played at something at which all sat in a circle on the floor. I was very ticklish, it nearly sent me into fits, we tickled each other on the floor. There was much fun, and noise, the governess tickled me, and I tickled her. She said as I was taken to bed, or rather went, as I then did by myself, "I'll go and tickle you.' Now at that time, when I was in bed, a servant, or my mother, or the governess took away the light and closed the door; for I was still frightened to get into bed in the dark, and used to call out, "Mamma. I'm going to get into bed." Then they fetched the light, they wished to stop this timidity, often scolded me about it, and made me undress myself, by myself, to cure me of it.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I expect the other children had been put to bed. My mother keeping all the younger ones in the room near her. The nursery was also upstairs; my room, as said, was next to the governess.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>When in bed, I called out for some one to put out the light, up came the governess and her sister. She began to tickle me, so did her sister, I laughed, screeched, and tried to tickle them. One of them closed the door and then came back to tickle me. I kicked all the clothes off and was nearly naked, I begged them to desist, felt their hands on my naked flesh, and, am quite sure that one of them touched my prick more than once, though it might have been done accidentally. At last I wriggled off bed, my night-gown up to my armpits, and dropped with my naked bum on to the floor, whilst they tickled me still, and laughed at my wriggling about and yelling.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then what induced me heaven alone knows; it may have been what I had heard about the piddling-hole of a woman, or curiosity, or instinct, I don't know; but I caught hold of the governess' leg as she was trying to get me up on to the bed again, saying, "That will do, my dear boy, get into bed, and let me take away the light.' I would not, the other lady helped to lift me, I pushed my hands up the petticoats of the governess, felt the hair of her cunt, and that there was something warm, and moist, between her thighs. She let me drop on to the floor, and jumped away from me. I must have been clinging to her thigh, with both hands up her petticoats, and one between her thighs, she cried out loudly -"Oh!" Then slap-slap-lap, in quick succession, came her hand against my head. "You ... rude ... bad ... boy," said she, slapping me at each word "I've a good mind to tell your mamma, get into bed this instant, and into bed I got without a word. She blew out the light and left the rooms with her sister, leaving me in a dreadful funk. I scarcely knew that I had dome wrong, yet lead some vague notion that feeling about her thighs was punishable. The soft hairy place my hand had touched, impressed me with wonder, I kept thinking there was no cock there, and felt a sort of delight at what I had done.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I heard them then talking and laughing loudly thro the partition. "They are talking about me; oh, if they tell mamma, Oh! what did I do it for?" Trembling with fear, I jumped out of bed, opened my door, and went to theirs, listening; theirs was ajar; I heard: "Right up between my thighs. I felt itl He must have felt it; ah! ah! ha! would you ever have thought the little beast would have done such a thing!" They both laughed heartily. "Did you see his little thing?" said one. "Shut the door, it's not shut"; breathless I got back to my room and into bed, and laying there heard them through the partition roaring with laughter again.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>That is the first time in my life I recollect passing an all but sleepless night. The dread of being told about, and dread at what I had done, kept me awake. I heard the two women talking for a long time. Mixed with my dread was a wonder at the hair, and the soft, moist feel I had had for an instant on some part of my hand. I knew I had felt the hidden part of a female, where the piddle came from, and that is all I did think about it, that I know of, I have no recollection of a lewd sensation, but of a curious sort of delight only.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>It must have been from this time, that my curiosity about the female form strengthened, but there was nothing sensual in it. I was fond of kissing, for my mother remarked it; when a female cousin, or any female, kissed me, I would throw my arms round her and keep on kissing. My aunts used to laugh, my mother corrected me and told me it was rude. I used to say to the servants, "Kiss me." One day I heard my godfather say: "Walter knows a pretty girl from an ugly one doesn't he!</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had a dread of meeting the governess at breakfast, watched her and saw her laugh at her sister, I watched my mother for some days after, and at length said to the governess, who had punished me for something, "Don't tell mamma." "I have nothing to tell about, Walter," she replied, "and don't know what you mean." I began to tell her what was on my mind. "What's the child talking about? You are dreaming, some stupid boy has been putting things into your head, your papa will thrash you, if you talk like that " "Why, you came and tickled me," said I. "I tickled you a little when I put your light out," said she, "be quiet." I felt stupefied, and suppose the affair must have passed away from my mind for a time, but I told my cousin Fred about it afterwards. He thought I must have been dreaming, and I began to wonder if it really had occurred; I never thought much about it until I began to recall my childhood for this history.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I must have been twelve years old when I went to an uncle's in Surrey and became a close friend of my cousin Fred, a very devil from his cradle, and of whom much more will he told: before then I had only seen him at intervals. We were then allowed, and it seems to me not before that time, to go out by ourselves. We talked boyish baudiness. 'Ain't you green," said he, "a girl's hole isn't called a cock, it's a cunt, they fuck with it," and then he told me all he knew. I dolt think I had heard that before, but can't be sure. From that time a new train of ideas came into my head. I had a vague idea, though not a belief, that a cock and cunt were not made for pissing only. Fred treated me as a simpleton in these matters and was always calling me an ass; I have quite a painful recollection of my inferiority to him in such things, and of begging him to instruct me. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"They make children that way," said Fred. "You come up and we will ask the old nurse where children come from, and shell say 'out of the parsley-bed,' but it's all a lie." We went and asked her in a casual sort of way. She replied, 'The parsley-bed," and laughed. The nurse at my house told me the same when I asked her afterwards about my mother's last baby. "Ain't they liars?" Fred remarked to me. 'It comes out of their cunts, and it's made by fucking.'</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>We both desired to see women piddling, though both must have before seen them at it often enough. Walking near the market-town with him, just at the outskirts, and looking up a side-road, we saw a pedlar woman squat down and piss. We stopped short and looked at her: she was a short-petticoated, thick-legged, middle-aged woman; the piss ran off in a copious stream, and there we stood, grinning. "Be off, be off, what are you standing grinning at, yer damned young fools," cried the woman. 'Be off, or Ill heave a stone at yer,' and she pissed on. We moved a few steps back, but, keeping our faces toward her, Fred stooped and put his head down. 'I can see it coming,' said he jeeringly. He was rude from his infancy, hold in handiness to the utmost, had the impudence of the Devil. The stream ceased, the woman rose up swearing, took up a big flint and threw it at us. "I'll tell on yer," she cried. "I knows yer, wait till I see yer again." She had a large basket of crockery for sale, it was put down in the main-road at the angle; she had just turned round into the side Lane to piss. We ran off, and, when well away, turned round and shouted at her. "I saw your cunt," Fred bawled out; she flung another stone. Fred took up one, threw it, and it crashed into the crockery, the woman began to chase us, off we bolted across the fields home. She could not follow us that way; it was an eventful day for us. I recollect feeling full of envy at Fred's having seen her cunt. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Though writing now, and having in my mind's eye exactly how the woman squatted, and the way her petticoats hung, I am sure he never did see it; it was brag when he said he had, but we were always talking about girls' cunts, the desire-to see one was great, and I then believed that he had seen the pedlar woman's.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then one of Fred's companions chewed us a baudy picture, it was coloured. I wondered at the cunt being a long sort of gash. I had an idea that it was round, like an arse-hole. Fred told his friend I was , an ass, but I could not get the idea of a cunt not being a round hole quite out of my head, until I had fucked a woman. We were all anxious to get the picture, and tossed up for it, but neither I nor Fred got it, some other boy did.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Soon after that, Fred came to stop with us and our talk was always about women's privates, our curiosity became intense. I had a little sister about nine months old, who was in the nursery. Fred incited me to look at her cunt, if I could manage it The two nurses came down in turns, to the servants' dinner, I was often in the nursery, and, soon after Fred's suggestion, was there one day when the oldest nurse said: "Stop here, master Walter, while I go downstairs for a couple of minutes. Mary (the other nurse) will be up directly, and don't make a noise. My little sister was lying on the bed asleep. "Yes, Ill wait" Down, went nurse, leaving the door open; quick as lightning, I threw up the infant's clothes, saw her little slit, and put my finger quite gently on it, she was laying on her back most conveniently. I pulled one leg away to see better, the child awakened and began crying, I heard footsteps and had barely time to pull down her clothes, when the under nursemaid came in, I only had had a momentary glimpse of the outside of the little cunt, for I was not a minute in the room with the child by myself altogether and was fearful of being caught all the time I was looking.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>'There must have been something in my face, for the nursemaid said, What is the matter, what have you been doing to the baby? 'Nothing." "Yes, you are colouring up, now tell me." "Nothing, I have done nothing." "You wakened your sister." "No, I have not. The girl laid hold of me and gave me a little shake, "I'll tell your mamma if you don't tell me, what is it now?" "No, I have done nothing, I was looking out of the window when she began to cry. You're "telling a story, I see you are," said the nursemaid; and off I went, after being impudent to her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I told Fred, and he tried the same dodge, but don't recollect whether he succeeded or not. His sisters were some of them older, and we began to scheme how to see their cunts, when I was on a visit to-his mother's. (my aunt), which was to come off in the holidays. The look of the little child's cunt, as I described it, convinced him that the picture was correct, and that a cunt was a long slit and not a round hole. That cast doubt on males putting their pricks into them, and we clung somehow to the idea of the round hole, and we quarrelled about it.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>It must have been about this time that I was walking with my father, and read something that was written in chalk on the walls. I asked him what it meant. He said he did not know, that none but low people, and blackguards wrote on walls; and it was not worthwhile noticing such things. I was conscious that I had done wrong somehow, but did not know exactly what. When I went out, which I was now allowed to do for short distances by myself, I copied what was on the walls, to tell Fred, it was foul, baudy language of some sort, but the only thing we understood at all, was the word cunt.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Just then being out with some boys, we saw two dogs fucking. I have no recollection of seeing dogs doing that before, We closed round them, yelling with delight as they stuck rump to rump, then one boy said that was what men and women did, and I asked, did they stick together so, a boy replied that they did; others did it, and, all the remainder of the day, some of us discussed this; the impression left on my mind is that it appeared to me very nasty; but it seemed at the same time to confirm me in the belief that men put their pricks up into women's holes, about which I seem at that time to have had grave doubts.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>After this time my recollection of events is clearer, and I can tell not only what took place, but better what I heard, said, and thought.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 2.</I><I> My godfather • At Hampton-Court • My aunt's backside • Public baths • My cousins cunts • Haymaking frolics • Family difficulties • School amusements • A masturbating relative • Romance and sentiment.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My godfather (whose fortune I afterwards inherited) was very fond of me; somewhere about this time he used perpetually to be saying, 'When you get to school, don't you follow any of the tricks yourself that other boys do, or you will the in a mad-house; lots of boys do." And he told me some horrible tales; it was done in a mysterious way. I felt there was a hidden meaning and, not having knowledge of what it was, asked him. I should know fast enough, said he, but mark his words. He repeated this so often that it sunk deeply into my mind, and made me uneasy, something was to happen to me, if I did something -I did not know what-it was intended as a caution against frigging; and it bad good effect on me I am sure in various ways in the after time.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One day talking with Fred, I recollected what I had done to the governess. I had kept it to myself all along for fear. 'What a lie," said he. "I did really." 'Oh! ain't you a liar,' he reiterated, I'll ask Miss Granger." The same governess was with us then. At this remark of his, an absolute terror came over me, the dread was something so terrible that the recollection of it is now 'Oh don't, Pray, don't, Fred,' I said, 'oh, if Papa should hear! He kept on saying he would I was too young to see the improbability of his doing anything of the sort. 'If you do, I'll tell him what we did when the pedlar woman piddled.' He did not care. 'Now, it's a lie, isn't it, you did not feel her cunt?' In fear, I confessed it was a lie. 'I knew it was; said Fred. He had kept me in a state of terror about the affair for days, till I told a lie to get quit of the subject.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was evidently always secret, even then, about anything amorous, excepting with Fred (as will be seen), and have continued so all my life. I rarely bagged or told anyone of my doings; perhaps this little affair with the governess was a lesson to me, and confirmed me in a habit natural to me from my infancy. I have kept to myself everything did with the opposite sex.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>We now frequently examined our pricks, and Fred jeered me so about my prepuce being tight that I resolved no other boy should see it; and though I did not keep strictly to that intention, it left a deep-seated mortification on me. I used to look at my prick with a sense of shame and pull the prepuce up and down, as far as I could, constantly, to loosen it, and would treat other boys' cocks in the same way, if they would let me, without expecting me to make a return; but the time was approaching when. I was to learn much more.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One of my uncles, who lived in London, took a house in tide country for the summer near Hampton Court Palace. Fred and I went to stay there with him. There were several daughters and sons, the sons quite young. People then came down from London in vans, carts, and carriages of all sorts, to see the Palace and grounds (there was no railway), they were principally of the small middle classes, and used to picnic, or else dine, at the taverns when they arrived; then full, and frisky, after their early- meal, go into the parks and gardens. They do so still, but times were different then, so few people went there comparatively, fewer park-keepers to look after them, and less of what is called delicacy amongst visitors of the class named.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Our family party used to go into the grounds daily, and all day long nearly, if we were not on the river banks. Fred winked at me one day, "Let's lose Bob," said he, and we'll have such a lark." Bob was one of our little cousins, generally given into our charge. We lost Bob purposely. Said Fred, "If you dodge the gardeners, creep up there, and lay on your belly quietly, some girls will be sure to come and piss, you'll see them pull their clothes up as they turn round, I saw some before you came to stay with us." So we went, pushing our way among shrubs and evergreens, till a gardener, who had seen us, called out, "You there, come back, if I catch you going off the walks, you'll be put outside." We were in such a funk, Fred cut off one way, I another, but it only stopped us for that day. Fred so excited me about the girls' arses, as he called them, that we never lost an opportunity of trying for a sight, but were generally baulked. Once or twice only we saw a female squat down, but nothing more, till my mother and Fred's came to stop with us.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Fred's mother, mine, the girls, Fred and I went into the park gardens, one day after luncheon. A very hot day, for we kept on the shady walks, one of which led to the place where women hid themselves to piss. My aunt said, "Why don't you boys go and play, you don't mind the sun," so off we went, but when about to leave the walk, turned round and saw the women had turned back. Said Fred; "I'm sure they are going to piss, that's why they want to get rid of us." We evaded the gardeners, scrambled through shrubs, on our knees, and at last on our bellies, up a little bank, on the other side of which was the vacant place on which' dead leaves and sweepings were shot down. As we got there, pushing aside the leaves, we saw the big backside of a woman, who was half standing, half squatting, a stream of piss falling in front of her, and a big hairy gash, as it seemed, under her arse; but only for a second, she had just finished as we got the peep, let her clothes fall, tucked them between her legs, and half turning round. We saw it was Fred's mother, my aunt. Off aunt went. "Isn't it a wopper," said Fred, "lay still, more of them will come."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Two or three did; one said, "You watch if anyone is coming," squatted and piddled, we could not see her cunt, but only part of her legs, and the piddle splashing in front of her. Then came the second, she had her arse towards us, sat so low that we could not even see the tips of her buttocks. Fred thought it a pity they did not stand half up like his mother. On other occasions, we went to the same place, but though I recollect seeing some females legs, don't recollect seeing any more. Nevertheless the sights were very delightful to us, and, we used to discuss his mothers "wopper" and the hair, and the look of the gash, but I thought there must be some mistake, for it was not the idea I had formed of a cunt.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Fred soon after stopped with us in town, we had been forbidden to go out together without permission, but we did, and met a boy bigger than either of us, who was going to bathe. "Come and see them bathing," he said. My father had refused to take me to the public baths. Disregarding this, Fred and I paid our six pence each add in we went with our friend; we did not bathe, but amused ourselves with seeing others, and the pricks of the men. None, as far as I can recollect, wore drawers in those days, they used to walk about hiding their pricks generally with their hands, but not always. I was astonished at the size of some of them, and at the dark hair about them and on other parts of their bodies. I wondered also at seeing one or two, with the red tip shewing fully, so different from mine. All this was much talked over by us afterwards, it was to me an insight into the male make and form, Fred told me he had often seen men's pricks in their fields, and in those days, living in the country as he did, I dare say it was true, but I don't recollect ever having seen the pricks of full grown men, or a naked man, before in my life.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>It must have been in the summer of that same year that I went after this to spend some days at my aunt's at H-*-dfs*-**, Fred's mother. We slept in the same room and sometimes got up quite at daybreak to go fishing. One morning Fred had left something in one of his sisters rooms, and went to fetch it, though forbidden to go into the girls' bedrooms. The room in question was opposite to ours. He was only partly dressed, and came back in a second, his face grinning. "Oh! come Wat, come softly, Lucy and Mary are quite naked, you can see their cunts, Lucy has some black hair on hers.' I was only half dressed, and much excited by the idea of seeing my cousins' nudity. We both took off our slippers and crept along through the door half open, then went on our kneed but why we did so, to this day I don't understand, and so crept to the foot of the bed, then raising ourselves, we both looked over the footboard. Lucy, fifteen years old, was laying half on her side, naked from her knees to her waist, the bed-clothes kicked off (I suppose through heat), were dragging across her feet and partly laying on the floor; we saw her split, till lost in the closed thighs, she had a little dark short hair over the top of her cunt, and that is all I can recollect about it.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Mary-Ann by the side of her, a year younger only, laid on her back, naked up to her navel, just above which was her night-gown in a heap and ruck; she had scarcely a sign of hair on her cunt, but a vermillion lay right through her crack. Projecting more towards the top, where her cunt began, she had what, I now know was a strongly developed clitoris; she was a lovely girl and had long chestnut hair. Whilst we looked she moved one leg up in a restless manner, and we bobbed down, thinking she was awaking; when we looked again, her limbs were more open, and we saw the cunt till it was pinched up, by the closing of her buttocks. In fear of being caught, we soon crept out, closed the door ajar, and regained our bedroom, so delighted that we danced with joy as we talked about the look of the two cunts; of which after all we had only had a most partial; rapid glimpse.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Lucy was a very plain girl, and was so as a woman. She had, I recollect, a very red bloated looking face as she lay (it was so hot); she it was, who in after-life my mother cautioned about leaving her infant son to a nursemaid Mary-Ann was lovely. I used afterwards to look and talk with her, "thinking to myself: "Ah! you have but little idea, that I have seen your cunt." She was unfortunate; married a cavalry officer, went to India with him, was left at a station unavoidably by her husband, who was sent on a campaign, for a whole year; could not bear being deprived of cock, and was caught in the act of fucking with a drummer boy, a mere lad. She was separated from him, came back to England, and drank herself to death. She was a salacious young woman, I think, from what I recollect of her, and am told was afterwards fucked by a lot of men; but it was a sore point with the family, and all about her was kept quiet.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One of Lucy's sons, in after years, I saw fucking a maid in a summer-house: both standing up against a big table; I was on the roof. Many years before that I fucked a nursemaid, she laying on that table in the very same summer-house, as I shall presently tell. Fred and I used to discuss the look of his sisters' and mother's cunts, as if they had belonged to strangers. The redness of the line in Mary-Ann's quiet astonished us. I do not recollect having even then formed any definite notion of what a girl's cunt was, though we had seen the splits, but had still, and till much further on, the notion that the hole was round, and close to where the clitoris is, having no idea then of what a clitoris was, though we had got an Aristotle and used to read it greedily; the glimpses of the two cunts were but momentary, and our excitement roused our recollections.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Fred and I then formed a plot to look at another girl's cunt; who the girl was I don't know, it may have been another of Fred's sisters, or a cousin by another of my aunts, but I think not; at all events, she was stopping in aunt's house, and from her height, which was less than that of Fred and myself, I should think a girl of about eleven or twelve years of age. I scrupulously avoid stating anything positively unless quite certain. Some years afterwards when we were very young men, we did the same thing with a female cousin (but not his sister), as I shall tell.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>There was haymaking. We romped with the girl, buried each other in hay, pulled each other out, and so on. I was buried in the hay and dragged out by my legs by Fred and the girl. Then Fred was; then we buried the girl, and as Fred pulled her out he threw up her clothes, I lay over her head, which was covered with hay. Fred saw, winked, and nodded. It came to my turn again to be buried, and then hers; I laid hold of her legs and pulling them from under the hay, saw her thighs, I pushed her knees up, and had a glimpse of the slit, which was quite hairless. My aunt and others were in the very field, but had no idea of the game we were playing, the girl romping with us had no idea that we were looking at her cunt, and an instantaneous peep only it was.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>What effect sensuously these glimpses of cunt had on me, I don't know; but have no recollection of sexual desire, nor of mine nor Fred's cock being stiff. I expect that what with games and our studies, that, after all, the time we devoted to thinking about women was not long, and curiosity our sole motive in doing what we did. I clearly recollect our talking at that time about fucking, and wondering if it were true or a lie. We could repeat what we had read and heard, but it still seemed improbable to me that a cock should go up a cunt, and the result be a child.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then a passionate liking for females came over me; I fell in a sort of love with a lady who must have been forty, and had a sad feeling about her, that is all I recollect. Then I began to follow servants about, in the hope of seeing their legs or seeing them piddle, or for some undefined object; but that I was always looking after them I know very well.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then (I know now) my father got into difficulties, we moved Into a smaller house, the governess went away, I was sent to another school, one of my brothers and sisters died; my father went abroad to look after some plantations, and after a year's absence came back and died, leaving my mother in what, compared with our former condition, were poor circumstances, but this in due course will be more fully told. I think I went to school, though not long before what I am going to tell of happened, but am not certain; if so, I must have seen boys frigging, yet as far as I can arrange in my mind the order of events, I first saw a boy doing that, in my own bedroom at home.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was somewhere, I suppose, about thirteen years of age when a distant relative came from the country to stay with us, until he was put to some great school He was the son of a clergyman, and must have been fifteen, or perhaps sixteen, years old, and was strongly pitted with the small-pox. I had never seen him before and took a strong dislike to him; the family were poor, this boy was intended for a clergyman. I was excessively annoyed, that he was to sleep with me, but in our small house there was just then no other place for him.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>How many nights he slept in my bed I don't recollect, it can have been but few. One evening in bed he felt my prick; repulsing him at first, I nevertheless afterwards felt his, and recollect our hands crossing each other and our thighs being close together. Awakening one morning, I felt his belly up against my rump, and his feeling or pushing his prick against my arse, putting my hand back, I pushed him away; then I found it pushing quickly backwards and forwards between my thighs, and his hand, passed over my hips, was grasping my cock. Turning round, I faced him; he asked me to turn round again, and said I might do it to him afterwards, but nothing more was done. An unpleasant feeling about sleeping with him is in my memory, but as said, I disliked him.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The next night, undressing, he showed me his prick stiff, as he sat naked on a chair; it was an exceedingly long but thin article; he told me about frigging, and said he would frig me, if I would frig him. He commenced moving his hand quickly up and down on his prick which got stiffer and stiffer, he jerked up one leg, then the other, shut his eyes, and altogether looked so strange that I thought be was going to have a fit, then out spurted little pasty lumps, whilst he snorted, as some people do in their sleep, and fell back in the chair with his eyes closed; then I saw stuff running thinner over his knuckles. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was strangely fascinated as I looked at him, and at what was on the carpet, but half thought he was ill; he then told me it was great pleasure, and was eloquent about it. Even now, as it did then, the evening seemed to me a nasty, unpleasant one, yet I let him get hold of my prick and frig it, but had no sensation of pleasure, He said, "Your skin, won't come off, what a funny prick"; that annoyed me, and I would not let him do more, we talked till our candle burnt out; he stamped out the sperm on the carpet, saying the servants would think we had been spitting. Then we, got into bed.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Afterwards he frigged himself several times before me, and at his request I frigged him, wondering at the result, and amused, yet at the same time much disgusted. When frigging him one day, he said it was lovely to do it in an arse-hole, that he and his brother took it in turns that way: it was lovely, heavenly! would I let him do it to me. In my innocence I told him it was impossible, and that I thought him a liar. He soon left us and went to college. I saw him once or twice after this, in later years, but at a very early age he drowned himself. I told my cousin Fred about this when I saw him; Fred believed in the frigging, but thought him a liar about the arse-hole business, just as I did. This was the first time I ever saw frigging and male semen, and it opened my eyes.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Though now at a public school, I was shy and reserved, but greedily listened to all the lewd talk, of which I did not believe a great deal. I became one of a group of boys of the same tastes as myself. One day some of them coaxed me into a privy, and there, in spite of me, pulled out my cock, threw me down, held me, and each one spat upon it, and that initiated me into their society. They had what they called cocks-all-round: anyone admitted to the set was entitled to feel the others' cocks. I felt theirs, but again, to my mortification, the tightness of my prepuce caused jeering at me; I was glad to hear that there was another boy at the school in the same predicament, though I never saw his. This confirmed me in avoiding my companions, when they were playing at cocks-all-round; being a day scholar only, I was not forced at all times into their intimacy, as I should have been had I been a boarder.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>We had a very large playground; beyond it were fields, orchards, and walks of large extent reserved for the use of the two headmasters' families, many of whom were girls. On Saturday half holidays only, if the fruit was not ripe, we were allowed to range certain fields, and the long bough-covered paths which surrounded them. Two or three boys of my set told me mysteriously one afternoon that when the others had gone ahead we were to meet in the playground privy, in which were seats for three boys of a row, and I was to be initiated into a secret without my asking. I was surprised at what took place, there was usually an usher in the playground in play-hours, and if boys were too long at the privy, he went there, and made them come out. On the Saturdays, he went out with the boys into the fields: there was no door to the privy; I should add, it was a largish building.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One by one, from different directions, some dodging among trees which bordered one side of the playground, appeared boys. I think there were five or six together in the privy, then it was cocks all-round, and every boy frigged himself. I would not, at first. Why? I don't know. At length incited, I tried, my cock would not stand, and vexed and mortified, I withdrew, after swearing not to split on them, on pain of being kicked and cut. I don't think I was one of the party again, though I saw each of the same boys frig himself in the privy when alone with me, at some time or another.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>After this a boy asked me to come to a privy with him in school time, and be would show me how to do it. Only two boys were allowed to go to those closets at the same time, during school time. There were two wooden logs with keys hung up on the wall by string: A boy, if he wanted to ease himself, looked to see if a log and key was hanging up, and if there was, stood out in the centre of the room; by that the master understood what he wanted. If he nodded, the boy took the key and went to the bog-house (no water-closets then), and when he returned, he hung up the log in its place. Those privies were close together, and separate, there, were but two of them.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>You wait till there are two logs hanging up, and directly I get one, you get up and come after me. Soon we were both in one privy together 'let's frig," said he; we were only allowed to be away five minutes. Out he pulled his prick, then out I pulled mine; he tried to pull my skin back and could only half do it, he frigged himself successfully, but I could not. He had a very small prick compared with mine. How I envied him the ease with which he covered and uncovered the red tip. I frigged that boy one day, but finding my cock was becoming a talk among our set, I shrunk from going to their frigging parties, which I have seen even take place in afield, boys sitting at the edge of a ditch whilst one stood up to watch if anyone approached. When they were frigging in the privy, a boy always stood in the open door on the watch, and his time for frigging came afterwards. With this set I began to look through the Bible and study all the carnal passages; no book ever gave us perhaps such prolonged, studious, baudy amusement; we could not understand much, but guessed a good deal.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Before I had seen anyone frig, I had been permitted to read novels, not a moment of my time when not at studies was I without one. My father used to select them for me at first, but soon left me to myself, and, now he was dead, I devoured what books I liked, hunting for the love passages, thinking of the beauty of the women, reading over and over again the description of their charms, and envying their lovers' meetings. I used to stop at print-shop windows and gaze with delight at the portraits of pretty women, and bought some at six pence each, and stuck them into a scrapbook. Although a big fellow for my age, I would sit on the lap of any woman who would let me, and kiss her. My mother in her innocence called me a great girl, but she nevertheless forbade it. I was passionately fond of dancing and annoyed when they indicated a girl of my own age, or younger, to dance with.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>These feelings got intensified when I thought of my aunt's backside, and the cunts of my cousins, but when I thought of the heroines, it seemed strange that such beautiful creatures should have any. The cunt which seemed to have affected my imagination was that of my aunt, which appeared more like a great parting, or division of her body, than a cunt as I then understood it; as if her buttock parting was continued round towards her belly, and as unlike the young cunts I had seen as possible. Those seemed to me but little indents. That the delicate ladies of the novels should have such divisions seemed curious, ugly, and unromantic. My sensuous temperament was developing, I saw females in all their poetry and beauty, but suppose that my physical forces had not kept pace with my brain, for I have no recollection of a cock-stand when thinking about ladies; and fucking never entered into my mind, either when I read novels or kissed women, though the pleasure I had when my lips met theirs, or touched their smooth, soft cheeks, was great. I recollect the delight it gave me perfectly. After having seen frigging, it set me reflecting, but it still seemed to me impossible, that delicate, handsome ladies, should allow pricks to be thrust up them, and nasty stuff ejected into them. I read Aristotle, tried to understand it, and thought I did, with the help of much talk with my schoolfellows; yet I only half believed it. Dogs fucking were pointed out to me; then croaks treading hens, and at last a fuller belief came.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I began then, I recollect, to think of their cunts when I kissed women, and then of my aunt's; I could not keep my eyes off of her, for thinking of her large backside and the gap between her thighs; it was the same with my cousins. Then I began to have cock-stands and suppose a pleasurable feeling about the machine, though I do not recollect that. I then found out that servants were fair game, and soon there was not one in the house whom I had not kissed. I had a soft voice and have heard an insinuating way, was timorous, feared repulse, and above all being found out; yet I succeeded. Some of the servants must have liked it, who called me a foolish boy at first; for they would stop with me on a landing, or in a room, when we were alone, and let me kiss them for a minute together. There was one, I recollect, who rubbed her lips into mine, till I felt them on my teeth, but of what she was like I have no recollection, and I did not like her doing that to me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My curiosity became stronger, I got bolder, told servants I meant to see them wash themselves, and used to wait inside my bedroom till I heard one of them come up to dress. I knew the time each usually went to her bedroom for that purpose, the person most in my way was the nurse: she after a time left, and mother nursed her own children. "Let's see your neck; do, there is a dear," I would say. "Nonsense, what next?" "Do, dear, there is no harm; I only want to see as much as ladies show at balls.' I wheedled one to stand at the door in her petticoats and show her neck across the bedroom lobby. The stays were high and queerly made in those days, the chemises pulled over the top of them like flaps. One or two let me kiss their necks girl one day said to my entreaties, "Well, only for a minute"; and easing up one breast, she showed me the nipple, I threw my arms round her, buried my face in her neck and kissed it. "I like the smell of your breast and flesh," said I. She was a biggish woman, and I dare say I smelt breasts and armpits together; but whatever the compound, it was delicious to me, it seemed to enervate me. The same woman, when I kissed her on the sly afterwards, let me put my nose down her neck to smell her. We were interrupted, "Here is some one coming," said she, moving away.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"What makes ladies smell so nice?" said I to my mother one day. My mother put down her work and laughed to herself. "I don't know that they smell nice." "Yes, they do, and particularly when they have low dresses on." "Ladies," said mother, "use patchouli and other perfumes." I supposed so, but felt convinced from mother's manner that I had asked a question which embarrassed her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I used to lean over the backs of the chairs of ladies, get my face as near to their necks as I could, quietly inhale their odours, and talk all the time. Not every woman smelt nice to me, and when they did, it was not patchouli, for I got patchouli, which I liked, and perfumed myself with it. This delicate sense of the smell of a woman I have had throughout life, it was ravishing to me afterwards when I embraced the flaked body of a fresh, healthy young woman.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>From about this time of my life I recollect striking events much more clearly, yet the circumstances which led up to them or succeeded them I often cannot. One day Miss Granger. our former governess, came to see us. I kissed her. Mother said: "Wattle, you must not kiss ladies in that way, you are too big." I sat Miss Granger on my lap in fun (my mother then in the room), and romped with her. Mother left us in the room and then, seating Miss Granger on my lap again, I pulled her closely to me. "Kiss me, she's gone," I said. "Oh! what a boy," and she kissed me, saying, "Let me - go - now - your mamma is coming." It came into my mind that I had had my hand up her clothes, and had felt hair between her legs. My prick stiffened; it is the first distinct recollection of its stiffening in thinking of a woman. I clutched her hard, put one hand on to her and did something, I know not what. She said: "You are rude, Wattle.' Then I pinched her and said: "Oh! what a big bosom you have." "Hish! Hish!" said she. She was a tallish woman with brown hair; I have heard my mother say she was about thirty years of age.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>A memorable episode then occurred. There were two sisters, with other female servants, in our house. My father was abroad at that time; I was growing so rapidly that every month they could see a difference in my height, but was very weak. My godfather used to look at me and severely ask if I was up to tricks with the boys. I guessed then what he meant, but always said I did not know what he meant. "Yes, you do; yes, you do," he would say, staring hard at me, "you take care, or you'll die in a mad-house, if you do, and I shall know by your face, not a farthing more will I give you." He had been a surgeon-major in the Army, and gave me much pocket-money. I could not bear his looking at me so; he would ask me why I turned down my eyes.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>About this time, I had had a fever, had not been to school for a long time, and used to lie on the sofa reading novels all day. Miss Granger had come to stop with my mother. One day I put my hand up her clothes, nearly to her knees; that offended her, and she left off kissing me. One of my little sisters slept with her, in a room adjoining my mother's room; I slept now on the servants' floor, at the top of the house. Again I recollect my cock standing when near "Miss Granger, but recollect nothing else.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was then ordered by my mother to cease speaking to the servants, excepting when I wanted anything, though I am sure my mother never suspected my kissing one. I obeyed her hypocritically, and was even at times reprimanded for speaking to them in too imperious a tone. She told me to speak to servants respectfully. For all that, I was after them, my curiosity was unsatiable, I knew the time each went up to dress, or for other purposes, and if at home, would get into the lobby, or near the staircase, to see their legs, as they went upstairs. I would listen at their door, trying to hear them piss, and began for the first time to peep through keyholes at them.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 3. </I><I>A big servant • Two sisters • Armpits • A quiet feel • Baudy reveries • Felt by a woman • Erections • My prepuce • Seeing and feeling • Aunt and cousin • A servant's thighs • Not man enough.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>A big servant, of whom I shall say much, had most of my attention; she went to her room usually when my mother was taking a nap in the afternoon; or when out with my sisters and brother. When I was ill in bed, this big woman usually brought me beef-tea; I used to make her kiss me, and felt so fond of her, would throw my arms round her, and hold her to me, keeping my lips to hers and saying how I should like to see her breasts; to all which she replied in the softest voice, as if I were a baby. I wonder now if my homage gave the big woman pleasure, or my amatory pressures made her ever feel randy. She was engaged to be married, but I only heard that at a later day, when my mother talked about her; her sister was also with us, as already said.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The sister was handsome, according to my notions then (I now begin to remember faces clearly); both had bright, clear complexions. I kissed both, each used to say, "Don't tell my sister," and ask, "Have you kissed my sister?" I was naturally cunning about women, and always said I had done nothing of the sort. The two were always quarrelling, and my mother said she must get rid of one of them.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The youngest was often dancing my little sister round in the room, then swinging herself round, and making cheeses with her petticoats. As I got better, I would lay on the rug with a pillow, and my back to the light reading, and say it rested me better to be on the floor, but in hope of seeing her legs as she made cheeses. I often did, and have no doubt now that she meant me to do so, for she would swing round, quite close to my head so that I could see to her knees, and make her petticoat's edge, as she squatted, just cover my head, immediately snatching her petticoats back and saying: "Oh! you!, see more than is good for you. It used to excite me. One day as she did it, and squatted, I put out my hand and pulled her clothes, she rolled on to her back, threw up her legs quite high, and for a second I saw her thighs; she re covered herself, laughing. "I saw your thighs," said I. "That you didn't." One day she let me put my hand into her bosom; I sniffed. "What's there to smell?" said she. I have some idea that she used to watch me closely when I was with her sister, as she was always looking after her, and before she kissed me would open the door suddenly or go out of the room and then return. I've seen the other sister just outside the door of the room, when suddenly opened.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The big sister must have been five feet nine high, and large in proportion; the impression on my mind is that she was two and twenty: that age dwells in my recollection, and that my mother remarked it. She had brown hair and eyes, I recollect well the features of the woman. Her lower lip was like a cherry, having a distinct cut down the middle, caused she said by the bite of a parrot, which nearly severed her lip when a girl. This feature I recollect more clearly than anything else. My mother remarked that, though so big, she was lighter in tread than anyone in the house, her voice was so soft; it was like a whisper or a flute, her name was I think Betsy.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had none of the dash, and determination towards females, which I had in after life; was hesitating, fearful of being repulsed or found out, but was coaxing and wheedling. Betsy used to take charge of my two little sisters (there was no regular nursery then), and used to sit with them in a room adjoining our dining room; it had a settee and a large sofa in it, we usually breakfasted there. She waited also at table, and did miscellaneous work. I am pretty certain that we had then no man in the house. I used to lie down on the sofa in this room. One day I talked with her about her lip, put my head up and said. "Do let me kiss it.' She put her lips to mine, and soon after, if I was not kissing her sister, I was kissing her regularly, when my mother was out of the way.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One day when she went up to her bedroom, I went softly after her, as I often did, hoping to hear her piddling. Her door was ajar, one of my little sisters was in the room with her, I expect I must have had incipient randiness on me. She taught the child to walk up stairs in front of her, holding her up, and in stooping to do so, I had glimpses of her fat calves. At the door, I could not see her wash, that was done at the other side of the room, but I heard the splash of water and, to my delight, the pot moved, and her piddle rattle. The looking glass was near the window. Then she moved to the glass and brushed her hair, her gown off, and now I saw her legs, and most of her breast, which looked to me enormous. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then I noticed hair in her armpits; it must have been the first time I noticed any thing of the sort, for I told a boy afterwards, that brown women had hair under their armpits; he said every fool knew that. When she had done brushing, she turned round, and passing the door shut it: she had not seen me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I fell in love with this woman, an undefined want took possession of me, I was always kissing her, and she returned it without hesitation. "Hush! your mamma's coming"; then she would work, or do something with the children if there, as demurely as possible. I declare positively as I write this that I believe I gave that woman a hewed pleasure in kissing me, her kisses were so much like those I have had from women I have fucked in after years, so long, and soft, and squeezing.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One day I was in the sitting-room laying on the sofa reading, she sitting and working; where the children were, where my mother was, I can't say they must have been out; why this servant was in the room with me alone, I don't know. On a table was something the doctor had ordered me to sip from time to time. "Come and sit near me, I like to touch you, dear" (I used to say "dear" to her). She drew her chair to the sofa, so that her thighs were near my head, she handed me my medicine, I turned on one side, put my head on her lap, and then my hand on her knee. "Kiss me." "I can't." I moved my head up and she bent forward and kissed. "Keep your face to mine, I want to tell you something." Then I told her I had seen her brushing her hair, her breasts, her armpits. "Oh! you sly boy! you naughty boy! you must not do it again, will you?" "Won't I, if I get the chance; put your head down, I've something more to tell you." "What?" "I can't if you look at me; put your ear to my mouth." I was longing to tell her, and could not do it whilst she looked at me. I recollect my bashfulness perfectly, and more than that, my fear of saying what I wanted to say.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She bent her ear to my mouth. "I heard you piddle." "Oh! you naughty!" and she burst into a quiet laugh. "III take care to shut the door in future." I let my hand drop by the side of the sofa, laid hold of her ankle, then the calf of her leg (without resistance); then up I slid it gently, and gradually above her garter, and felt the flesh; she was threading a needle. As I touched the thigh, she pressed both hands down on to her thighs, barring further investigation. "Now, Wattle, you're taking too much liberty, because I've let you feel my ankles." I whined, I moaned. "Oh, do, dear, do, kiss me dear; only for a minute." I tried very gently to push my hand (it was my left hand) further. "What do you want?" "I want to feel it, Oh! kiss me-let me, -do, -Betsy, do," and I raised my head.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Sitting bent forward towards me as I lay, until she was nearly double, she put her lips to mine and, kissing me, said: "What a rude boy you are, what do you expect to find?" "I know what it's called, and it's hairy, isn't it, dear?" Her hands relaxed, she laughed, my left hand slid up, until I felt the bottom of her belly. I could only twiddle my fingers in the hair, could feel no split, or hole, was too excited to think, too ignorant of the nature of the female article; but of the intense delight I felt at the torch of the warm thighs, and the hair, which now I knew was outside the curt, somewhere, I recollect my delight perfectly.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She kept on kissing me, saying in a whisper, "What a rude boy you are." Then I whispered modestly, all I had read, told of the Aristotle I had hidden in my cupboard, and she asked me to lend her the book. I touched nothing but hair, her thighs must have been quite closed, and a big stay-bone dug into my hand and hurt it, as I moved it about. I have felt that obstacle to my enterprise in years later on, with other women.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then came over me a voluptuous sensation, as if I was fainting with pleasure, I seem to have a dream of her lips meeting mine, of her saying oh! for shame! of the tips of my fingers entangling in hair, of the warmth of the flesh of her thighs upon my hand, of a sense of moisture on it, but I recollect nothing more distinctly. Afterwards she seems to have absorbed me. I ceased speaking to her sister, and could think of nothing but her neck, legs and the hair at the bottom of her belly. I was several times in the same room with her, and was permitted the same liberties, but no others.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I lent her Aristotle, which I had borrowed, and one day recollect my prick stiffening, and a strange overwhelming, utterly indescribable feeling coming over me of my desire to say to her "cunt," and to make her feel me, and at the same time a fear and a dread overtook me, that my cock was not like other cocks, and that she might laugh at me. After that, I used to pull the skin: down violently every day, I bled, but succeeded; it became slightly easier to do so, yet I have no recollection of having a desire to fuck that woman, all that I recollect of my sensations I1 have here described.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was still ill, for there was brought me to my bed at nights a cup of arrowroot. My mother usually did this, but sometimes the big woman did; I was so glad when my mother did not. Then I would kiss her as if I never wanted to part with her, but my hand out of bed, scramble it up her clothes, till I could feel the hair. 'Then she would put her bum back, so that I could not touch more. One night my prick stood, "Take the light outside," I said, "I've something to say to you." The door was half open when she, had complied; the gleam of the light struck across the room, my bed was in the shade, "Do let me feel you further, dear and kiss me." "You naughty boy!" but we kissed. Again I felt her thigh, belly, and hair. "What good does it do you, doing that," she said. I took hold of her hand, and put it under the bed-clothes on to my prick She bent over me, kissing and saying, "Naughty boy," but feeling the cock, and all around it, how long, I can't say, "Obl I'd like to feel your hole,' I said. "Hish!" said she, going out of the room, and closing the door.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She felt me several times afterwards. When my mother brought me the arrowroot, she having an idea that I liked her to do so, I would not take it, saying it was too hot. She said, "I can't wait, Wattle, while it cools." "Don't care, mamma, I don't want it." "But you must take it." "Put it down then." "Well, don't go to sleep, and I'll send Betsy up with it in a few minutes." Up Betsy would come, and quickly and voluptuously kissing, keeping her lips on mine for two or three minutes at a time, she would glide her hand down and feel my cock, whilst my fingers were on her motte, her thighs closed, then she would glide out of the room. I never got my hand between her thighs, I am sure.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I used to long to talk to her about all I had heard, but don't think I ever did more than I have told, for I had a fear about using baudy words to a woman, though I already used them freely enough among boys. I used to talk only of her hole, my thing, of doing it, and so forth; but what made her laugh was my calling it pudendum, a word I had got out of Aristotle and my Latin dictionary. In spite of all this, and of the voluptuous sensations which used to creep over me, I have no clear, defined, recollection of wishing to fuck her, nor did I ever say anything smutty, if I could see her face.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I got better. Then she refused either to feel me, or let me feel her, on account of my boldness. One day, just at dusk, she was closing the dining-room shutters, I went behind her, and after pulling her head back to kiss me, stooped and pulled up her clothes to her waist; it exposed her entire backside. Oh how white and huge it. seemed to me. She moved quickly round not holloring out but saying quietly: "What are you doing? Don't, now!" As she turned round, so did I, gloating over her bum, then laid both hands on it, slid them round her thighs, and rapidly kneeling down, put my lips on to the flesh, her petticoats fell over my head She dislodged me, saying she would never speak with me again. She never either felt me or permitted me any liberties afterwards; and soon left. One or two years after that, she came to see my mother with her baby. She smiled at me. I don't recollect what became of her sister, but think she soon left us also.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My physique could not then have been strong, nor my sexual organs in finished condition, because I am sure that up to that time, I had not had a spend; perhaps my growing fast and the fever may have had something to do with it. My father came home brokenhearted I have heard, and ill. Soon after we only kept two female servants, a man outside the house, and a gardener. Father was ordered to the seaside, my mother went with him, taking the children and one servant (all went by coach then). One of father's sisters, my aunt; a widow, came to take charge of our new house, and brought her daughter, a fair, slim girl, about sixteen years old.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I remained at home, so as to go to school; the servant left in the house was a pleasant, plump young woman, dark haired, and. was ways laughing; she was to do all the work. My godfather, who lived a mile or two away from us and whose maiden sister kept house for hire, was to see me frequently, and did so till I was sick of him. Every half-holiday, he made me spend with him in walking, and riding; he insisted on my boating, cricketting, and keeping at athletic games when not at my boating, studies. The old doctor I expect guessed my temperament, and thought, by thoroughly occupying and fatiguing me, to prevent erotic thoughts. He wanted me to stay at his house, but I refused, and it being a longer way from school, it was not persisted in.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My aunt slept in my parents' bedroom, my cousin in the next room. I was taken down, during my parents' absence, from the upper floor to sleep on the same floor as my aunt. They had not been in the house a week before I had heard my cousin piddle, and stood listening outside her bedroom door, night after night, in my bed-gown, trying to get a glimpse of her charms through the keyhole, but was not successful.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I made up to the servant, beginning when she was kneeling, by putting myself astride on her back. It made her laugh, she gave her back a buck up, and threw me over, then I kissed her, and she kissed me. She and my aunt quarrelled, my aunt was very poor and proud, and wanted a hot dinner at seven o'clock; I ate my dinner in the middle of the day. The servant said she could not do it all. The girl said quietly to me, "I'll cook for you, don't you go without, let her do without anything hot at night." She did not like her. My aunt said she was saucy and would write to my mother and complain that she wasted her time with the gardener. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Godfather then renewed his offer for me to stay with him, but I would not, for I was getting on very comfortably with the servant in kissing, and things settled themselves somehow. I learnt the ways of my aunt, and tried to get home when she was out, so as to be alone with the servant; but to escape both aunt and godfather was difficult. I did so at times by saying I was going out with the boys somewhere, on my half-holidays, or something of the sort, but was rarely successful.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The servant went to her bedroom, one afternoon; with palpitating heart I followed her, and pushed her on to the bed. She was a cheeky, chaffing, woman, and I guess knew better than I did, what I was about. I recollect her falling back on to the bed and showing to her knees. "Oh! what legs!" said I, "Nothing to be ashamed of," said she. Whatever my wishes or intentions might have been, I went no further. My relations were of course out.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Another day we romped, and pelted each other with the pillows from her bed, she stood on the landing, I half way down the stairs, and kept when I could, my head just level with the top of the landing on which she was, so that as she whisked backwards and forwards, picking up the pillows to heave at me, I saw up to her knees. She knew what she was about, though I thought myself very cunning to manage to get such glimpses. On the landing I grappled with her for a pillow, and we rolled on the floor. I got my hand up her clothes, to her thighs, and felt the hair. "That's your thing," said I with a burst of courage. "Oh! Oh!" she laughed, "what did you say?" "Your thing!" "My thing! what's that?" "The hole at the bottom of your belly, said I, ashamed at what uttered. "What do you mean? who told you that? I've no hole." It is strange, but a fact, that I had no courage to say more, but left off playing, and went down stairs.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>On occasions afterwards, I played more roughly with her and felt her thighs; but fear prevented me from going further up. She gave me lots of opportunities, which my timidity prevented me from availing myself of. One day she said, "You are not game for much, although you are so big," and then kissed me long and furiously, but I never saw her wants, nor my chances that I know of, though I see now plainly enough that, boy as I was, she wanted me to mount her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>About that time, how I got it, I know not, I had a book describing the diseases caused by sacrificing to Venus. The illustrations in the book, of faces covered with scabs, blotches, and eruptions, took such bold of my mind, that for twenty years afterwards, the fear was not quite eradicated. I showed them to some friends, and we all got scared I had no definite idea of what syphilis, and gonorrhea were, but that both were something awful we all made up our minds. My godfather also used to hint now to me about ailments men got, by acquaintance with loose, bad, women; perhaps he put the book in my way. Frigging also was treated of, and the terrible accounts of people dying through it, and being put into straight waistcoats, etc., I have no doubt were useful to me. Several of us boys were days in finding out what the book meant by masturbation, onanism, or whatever the language may have been. We used dictionaries and other books to help us, and at last one of the biggest boys explained the meaning to us.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One evening, my aunt being out (it was not I think any plan on my part), I had something to eat and then went into the kitchen, where the servant was sitting at needle-work by candle-light. I talked, kissed, coaxed her, began to pull up her clothes, and it ended in her running round the kitchen, and my chasing her; both laughing, stopping at intervals, to hear if my aunt knocked. "I'll go and lock the outer gate," said she "then your aunt must ring, if she comes up to the door, she will hear us, for you make such a noise." She locked it and came back again.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The kitchen was on the ground floor, separated from the body of the house by a short passage. I got her on to my knees, I was now a big fellow, and though but a boy, my voice was changing, she chaffed me about that; then my hand went up her petticoats, and she gave me such a violent pinch on my cock (outside the clothes), that I hollored. Whenever I was getting the better of her in our amatory struggles, she said, "Oh hush, there is your aunt knocking," and frightened me away, but at last she was sitting on my knees, my hand touching her thighs, she feeling my prick, she felt all round it and under. "You have no hair," she said. That annoyed me, for I had just a little growing. Then how it came about I don't recollect, but she consented to go into the parlor with me, after we had sat together feeling each other for a time, if mine could be called feeling, when my fingers only touched the top of the notch. I took up the candle. "I won't go if you bring a light," said she, so I put down the candle, and, holding her by the arm, we walked through the passage across the little hall to the front parlour; she closed the door, and we were in the dark. And now I only recollect generally what took place, it seems as if it all could but have occupied a minute, or two, though experience tells me it must have been longer.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>We sat on a settee or sofa, she had hold of my prick, and I her cunt, for she now sat with thighs quite wide open. It was my first real feel of a woman, and she meant me to feel well. How large and hairy and wet it seemed; its size overwhelmed me with astonishment, I did not find the hole, don't recollect feeling for that, am sure I never put my finger in it, all seemed cunt below her belly, wet, and warm; and slippery. "Make haste, your aunt will be in soon," said she softly, but I was engrossed with the curt, in twiddling it and feeling it in delighted wonder at its size and other qualities. "Your aunt will be in," and leaving off feeling my cock, she laid half on, half off the settee. "No, no, not so," I recollect the words, but what I was doing, know not; then I was standing by her side, my cock stiff, and still feeling her cunt in bewilderment. "I can't . . . stop ... get on to the sofa." I laid half over her, my prick touched something-her cunt of course. Whether it went in or not, God knows, I pushed, it felt smooth to my prick, then suddenly came over me, a fear of some horrible disease, and I ceased whatever I was doing. "Go on, go on," said she, moving her belly up. I could not, said nothing, but sat down by her side, she rose up, "You're not man enough," said she, laying hold of my prick. It was not stiff, I put my hand down, and again the great size - as it seemed to me - of her cunt, made me wonder.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>What then she did with me, I know not, she may have frigged it, I think she did, but can't say, a sense of disgrace had come over me as she said I was not man enough, disgrace mixed with fear of disease. "Let me try," said I; again she laid back, I have a faint recollection of my finger going in somewhere deep, again of my prick touching her thighs and rubbing in something smooth, but nothing more. "You're not man enough," said she again. A ring ... "Hark! it's your aunt, go!" and it was.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I went into the adjoining room, where my books were and a lamp, she went to the street-door. My aunt and cousin came in and went up to their bedrooms, I sat smelling my fingers; the full smell of cunt that I had for the first time. I smelt and smelt almost out of my senses, sat poring over a book, seeming to read, but with my fingers to my nose and thinking of cunt, its wonderful size and smell. Aunt came down. "Have you got a cold, Wattie?" "No, aunt." "Your eyes look quite inflamed, child." Soon after again, she said: "You have a cold? "No, aunt." "Why are you sniffing so, and holding your hand to your mouth?" Suddenly the fear of the pox came over me, I went up to the bedroom, soaped and washed my prick, and had a terrible fear on me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was overwhelmed with a mixed feeling of pride, at having had my prick either touch or go up a cunt, fear that I had caught disease, and shame at not being man enough. Instinct told me I had lost, in the eyes of the woman, and my pride was hurt in a woeful manner. I tried to avoid seeing her, instead of as before getting excitedly into a room where she was likely to be alone for a minute. I did that for three days, then fear of disease vanished, and my hopes of feeling her cunt again, or of poking - I don't know which - impelled me towards her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>During those three days I washed my prick at every possible opportunity, and thought of nothing else but the incident; all seemed to me hurry, confusion, impossible; I wondered, and wonder still, whether my prick went into her or not; but above all, the largeness of the cunt filled me with wonder; for though I had had rapid glimpses of cunts as told, and had now seen a few pictures of the long slit, I never could realise that that was only the outside of the cunt, until I had had a woman. My fingers had no doubt slipped over the surface of hers, from clitoris to arse-hole; the space my hand covered filled me with astonishment, as well as the smell it left on my fingers, I thought of that snore than anything else. This seems to me now laughable, but it was a marvel to me then.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>When I sneaked' into the kitchen again, I was ashamed to look at her, and left almost directly, but one day I felt her again. Laughing she put her hand outside my trowsers, gave my doodle a gentle pinch and kissed me. "Let's do all" I said. "Lord! you ain t man enough," and again I slunk away ashamed.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 4. </I><I>My first frig • My godfather • Meditations on copulation • Male and female aromas • Maid and gardener • My father dies • A wet dream • Bilked by a whore.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The frequency of my cock-stands up to this time I don't know. Voluptuous sensation I have no clear recollection of; but no doubt during that half swooning delight, which I had when big Betsy allowed me to lay my head on her lap and feel her limbs, that impulse towards the woman was accompanied by sensuous pleasure, though I don't recollect the fact, but soon my manhood was to declare itself.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Some time after I had felt this servant's quim, I noticed a strong smelling, whitish stuff, inside my foreskin, making the underside of the tip of the prick sore. At first I thought it disease, then pulling the foreskin up, I made It into a short of cup, dropped warm water Into it, and working it about, washed all round the nut, and let the randy smelling infusion escape. This marked my need for a woman, I did not know what the exudation was, it made me in a funk at first. One day I had been toying with the girl, had a cock-stand, and felt again my prick sore, and was washing it with warm water, when it swelled up. I rubbed it through my hand, which gave me unusual pleasure, then a voluptuous sensation came over me quickly so thrilling and all pervading that I shall never forget it. I sank on to a dunk, feeling my cock gently, the next instant spunk jetted out in few drops, a full yard In front of me, and a thinner liquid rolled over my knuckles. I had frigged myself, without intending it.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>They came astonishment mingled with disgust, I examined the viscid, gruelly fluid with the greatest curiosity, smelt it, and I think tasted it. Then came fear of my godfather, and of being found out; for all that, after wiping up my sperm from the floor, I went up to my bedroom and, locking the door, frigged myself until I could do it no more from exhaustion.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I wanted a confidant and told two schoolfellows who were brothers, I could not keep it to myself, and was indeed proud though ashamed to speak of the pleasure. They both had bigger pricks than mine, and never had jeered at me because I could not retract my prepuce easily. Soon after they came to see me, we all went into the garden, each pulled my prepuce back, I theirs, and then we all frigged ourselves in an outhouse.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then I wrote to Fred, who was at a large public school, about my frigging. He replied that some fellows at his school had been caught at it and flogged; that a big boy just going to Oxford had had a woman and got the pox badly. He begged me to burn his letter, or throw it down the shit-house directly I had read it, adding that he was in such a funk for he had lost mine; and that I was never to write to him such things at the school, because the master opened every day indiscriminately one or two letters of the boys. He knew my mother was away and so did not mind writing to me. When I heard that he had lost my letter, I also was in a funk; the letter never was found. Whether the master got it, or sent it to my godfather or not, I can't say, but it is certain that just after I had one night exhausted myself by masturbation, my godfather came to see me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>He stared hard at me. "You look ill." "No, I am not." "Yes, you are, look me full in the face, you've been frigging yourself," said he just in so many words. He had never used an improper word to me before. I denied it. He raved out "No denial, sir, no lies, you have, sir; don't add lying to your, bestiality, you've been at that filthy trick, I can see it in your face, you'll die in a mad-house, or of consumption, you shall never have a farthing more pocket-money from me, and I won't buy your commission, nor leave you any money at my death." I kept denying it, brazening it out. "Hold your tongue, you young beast, or I'll write to your mother." That reduced me to a sullen state, only at times jerking out: "I haven't!" He put on his hat angrily, and left me in a very uncomfortable state of mind.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I knew that my father was not so well off as he had been, my mother always impressed upon me not to offend my godfather, and now I had done it. I wrote Fred all about it, he said the old beggar was a doctor, and it was very unfortunate; he wondered if he really did see any signs in my face, or whether it was bounce; that I was not to be a fool and give in, and still say I hadn't, but had better leave off frigging.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>From that time my godfather was always at my heels, he waited for me at the school-door, spent my half-holidays with me, sat with me and my aunt of an evening till bed-tune, made me ride and drive out with him, stopped giving me pocket -money altogether, and no one else did; so that I was not very happy.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The pleasure of frigging, now I had tasted it (and not before), opened my eyes more fully to the mystery of the sexes. I seemed at once to understand why woman and men gut together, and yet was full of wonder about it. Spinning seemed a nasty business, the smell of cunt an extraordinary thing in a woman, whose odour generally to me was so sweet and intoxicating. I read novels harder than ever, liked being near females and to look at them more than ever, and whether young or old, common or gentle, was always looking at them and thinking that they had cunts which had a strong odour, and wondering if they had been fucked; I used to stare at aunt and cousins, and wonder the same. It seemed to me scarcely possible, that the sweet, well dressed, smooth-spoken ladies who came to our house, could let men put the spunk up their cants. Then came the wonder if, and how, women spent, what pleasure they had in fucking, and so on; in all ways was I wondering about copulation, the oddity of the gruelly, close-smelling sperm being ejected into the hole between a woman's thighs so astonished me. I often thought the whole business must be dream of mine; then that there could be no doubt about it. Among other doubts, was whether the servant's quim, which had made my fingers smell, was diseased, or not.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Fear of detection perhaps kept me from frigging, but I was weak and growing fast, and have no recollection of much desire, though mad to better understand a cunt. It does not dwell in my mind now that I had a desire to fuck her, but to see it, and above all, to smell it; the recollection of its aroma mews to, have had a strange, effect on me. I did not like it much, yet yearned the again watching my opportunity one day, I managed to feel the servant; it was dusk she stood with her back up against the wall, and felt my prick whilst I felt her; it was an affair of a second or two, and again we were scared. I went to the sitting-room, and passed the evening in smelling my fingers and looking at my cousin. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>This occurred once again, and I think now, that the servant must just have been on the point of letting me fuck her, for she had been feeling my prick and in a jeering way saying, "You are not man enough if I let you," I emboldened, blurted out that I had spent, I recollect her saying, "Oh! your story" and then something put us to flight, I don't now know what. I certainly was not up to my opportunities, that I see now plainly. I had a taste for chemistry, which served my purpose, as will be seen further on, and used to experimentalise in what was called a wash-house, just outside the kitchen, with my acids and alkalis; that enabled me to slip into the kitchen on the sly, but the plan of the house rendered it easy for my aunt to come suddenly into the kitchen.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My bedroom window overlooked the kitchen yard, in which was this wash-house, a knife-house, and a servants privy, etc., etc., the whole surrounded by a wall, with a door in it, leading into the garden just outside on the garden side, was a gardener's shed; the servant in the morning used to let the gardener in at the kitchen entrance; and he passed through this kitchen yard into the garden. I was pissing in the pot in my bedroom early one morning, and peeping through the blind, when I saw the servant's head just coming out of the gardener's shed, she passed through the kitchen yard into the kitchen in great haste, looking up at the house, as if to see if anyone was at the windows. Then it occurred to me, that if I got quite early to, the kitchen, I could play my little baudy tricks without fear, for my relatives never went down till half-past eight to breakfast, whilst the servant went down at six. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The next morning, I went down early to the kitchen, did not see the wench, and thinking she might be in the privy in the kitchen yard, waited. The shutters were not down, after some minutes delay, in she came, *she started. "Hulloh! what are you up for?" I don't think I spoke, but making a dash, got my hand up her clothes and on to her cunt She pushed me away, then caught hold of the hand with which I had touched her cunt, and squeezed it hard with a rubbing motion, looking at me as I recollected (but long afterwards), in a funny way. "Hish! Hish! here is the old woman," said she. Oh it is not" "I'm sure I heard the wires of her bell," and Sure enough there came a ring. Up I went without shoes, like a shot to my bedroom, began to smell my fingers, found they were sticky, and the smell not the same. I recollect thinking it strange that her Bunt should be so sticky. I had heard of dirty cunts, it was a joke among us boys, and thought hers must have been so, which was the cause that the smell and feel were different.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Two or three days afterwards my mother came to town by herself, there was a row with the servant, I was told to leave the room; the servant and gardener were both turned off that day and hour, a char-woman was had in, a temporary gardener got, and my mother went back to my sick father. Years passed away, and when I had greater experience and thought of all this, concluded that my aunt had found the gardener and the servant amusing themselves too freely, had had them dismissed, and that the morning I found my fingers sticky the girl had just come in from fucking in the gardener's shed.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>With all the opportunities I had, both with big Betsy and with this woman, I was still virgin. Whey I saw Fred next, he told me he had felt the aunt of one of their servants. I told him partly what I had done, but kept to myself how I had failed to poke when I had the opportunity, fearing his jeers; and as I was obliged to name some woman, mentioned me of my godfathers servants. He went there to try his chances of groping her as well, but got his head slapped. We talked much about the smell of cult, and he told me that one day after he, had felt their servant, he went into the room where his sisters were, and said, my, what a funny smell there is on my fingers, what can it be? Smell them.' Two of his sisters smelt, said they could not tell what it was, but it was not nice, Fred used to say that he thought they knew it was like the smell of cunt, because they colored up so.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had noticed a strong smell on my prick, whenever the curdy exudation had to be washed out. Fred's talk made me imitative, so I saturated my fingers with the masculine essence one evening, and, going to my female cousin, "Oh, what a queer smell there is on my fingers," said I, 'smell them.' The girl did. "It's nasty, you've got it from your chemicals," said she. "I don't think I have, smell them again, I can't think what it can be, what's it like, I don't think it's like anything I ever smelt, but it is not so nasty, if you smell it close, it's like southern wood," she replied. I wonder if that young lady when she married, ever smelt it afterwards, and recognized it. I did this more than once, it gave me great delight to think my slim cousin had smelt my prick, through smelling my fingers; what innate lubricity comes out early in the male.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Misfortunes of all sort came upon us, the family came back to town, another brother died, then my father, who had been long ill, died, and was found to be nearly bankrupt; then my godfather died, and left me a fortune, all was trouble and change, but I only mention these family matters briefly.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My physique still could not have been strong, for though more than ever intensely romantic, and passionately fond of female society, I don't recollect being much troubled with cock-standings, and think I should, had I teen so. My two intimate school-friends left off frigging, the elder brother, who had a very long red nose, having come to the conclusion with me that frigging made people mad, and worse, prevented them afterwards from fucking and having a family. Fred, my favorite cousin, arrived at the same conclusion by what mental process we all arrived at it I don't know.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>When I was approaching my sixteenth year, I awakened one night with a voluptuous dream, and found my night-shirt saturated with semen, it was my first wet dream; that set me frigging again for a time, but I either restrained myself or did not naturally require much spending at that time, for I certainly did not often do so.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>But our talk was always about cunt and women, I was always trying to smell their flesh, look up their petticoats, watch to see them going to piddle; and the wonder to me now is that I did not frig myself incessantly; and can only account for it on the grounds, that though my imagination was very ripe, my body was not. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The fact of hair under the arms of women had a secret charm for me about that time. I don't recollect thinking much about it before, though it had astonished me when I first saw it; and why it came to my imagination so much now I do not know, but it did. I have told of the woman under whose arms I first saw hair.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One afternoon after my father's death, and that of my godfather, Fred was with me, we went to the house of a friend, and were to return home about nine o'clock. It was dark, we saw a woman standing by a wall. "She is a whore," said Fred, "and will let us feel her if we pay her." "You go and ask her." "No, you." "I don't like." "How much money have you got?" We ascertained what we had, and after a little hesitation, walked on, passed her, then turned round and stopped. "What are you staring at, kiddy," said the woman. I was timid and walked away; Fred stopped with her. "Wattle, come here," said he in a half whisper. I walked back. "How much have you got?" the woman said. We both gave her money. "You'll let us both feel?" said Fred. "Why of course, have you felt a woman before?" Both of us said we had, feeling bolder. "Was it a woman about here?" "No." "Did you both feel the same woman? 'No.' "Give me another shilling then, you shall both feel my cunt well, I've such a lot of hair on it." We gave what we had, and then she walked off without letting us. "I'll tell your mothers, if you come after me," she cried out. We were sold; I was once sold again in a similar manner afterwards, when by myself.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>These are the principal baudy incidents of my early youth, which I recollect, and have not told to friends; many other amusing incidents told them are omitted here, for the authorship would be disclosed if I did. One or two were peculiar and most amusing, yet I dare not narrate them; but all show how soon sexual desires developed in me, and what pleasure early in life even these gave me and others.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I now had arrived at the age of puberty, when male nature asserts itself in the most timid and finds means of getting its legitimate pleasure with women. I did, and then my recollection of things became more perfect, not only as to the consummations, but of what led to them; yet nothing seems to me so remarkable as the way I recollect matters which occurred when I was almost an infant.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 5. </I><I>Our house • Charlotte and brother Tom • Kissing and groping • Both in rut • My first fuck • A virginity taken • At a baudy house • In a privy • Tribulations • Charlotte leaves • My despair.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>After fathers death, our circumstances were further reduced, At the time I am going to speak of, we had come to a small house nearer London; one sister went to boarding-school, an aunt (I had many) took another, I went to a neighboring great school or college, as it was termed, my little brother Tom was at home; but reference henceforth to members of my family will be but slight, for they had but little to do with the incidents of this private life, and unless they were part actors in it, none will be mentioned.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Our house had on the ground-floor a dining-room, a drawing-room, and a small room called the garden parlour, with steps leading into a large garden. On the first floor, my mothers bedroom and two others; above were the servants' room, mine, and another much used as a lumber-room; the kitchens were in the basement, outside them a long covered way led to a servants' privy, and class to it a Sight of stairs leading up into the garden; at the top of the stairs was a garden-door leading into the fore-court, on to which opened the street-door of the house. This description of plan is needful to understand what follows.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was about sixteen years old, tall, with slight whiskers and moustache, altogether manly and looking seventeen or eighteen, yet my mother thought me a mere child, and most innocent; she told our friends so. I had developed, without her having noticed it, love of women, and the intensest desire to understand the secrets of their nature had taken possession of me; the incessant talk of fucking with which the youths I knew beguiled their leisure, the stories they told of having seen their servants or other girls half, or quite, naked, the tricks by which they managed this, the dodges they were up to, inflamed me, sharpened' nay instinctive acuteness in such matters, and set me seeking every opportunity to know women naked, and sexually. Frigging was now hateful to me; I had never done so more than the times related, that is as far as I now can recollect, frightened, as said, by my godfather telling me that it sent men mad and made them hateful to worsen. So although boiling with sensuality, I was still all but a virgin, and actually so in fucking.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>A, housemaid arrived just as I came home from college; the cook stood at the door, she was a lovely woman about twenty-five or 26 years old, fresh as a daisy, her name was Mary. The housemaid was in a cart, driven by her father, a small market gardener living a few miles from us. I saw a fresh, comely girl about seventeen years old in the cart as I passed, and when I got inside our fore-court, turned round to look, she was getting down, the horse moved, she hesitated. "Get down," said her father angrily. Down she stepped, her clothes caught on the edge of the cart, or step, or somehow; and I saw rapidly appear white stockings, garters, thighs, and a patch of dark hair between them by her belly; it was instantaneous, and down the clothes came, hiding all. I stood fascinated, knowing I had seen her cunt hair. She, without any idea of having been exposed, helped down with her box, I went into the parlour ashamed of having, as I thought, been seen looking. I could think of nothing else, and when she brought in tea could not take my eyes off her, it was the same at supper (we led a simple life, dining early and having supper). In the evening my mother remarked, "That girl will do," I recollect feeling glad at that.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I went to bed, thinking of what I had seen, and stared whenever I saw her the next day, until, by a sort of fascination, she used to stare at me; in a day or two I fancied myself desperately in love with her, and indeed was. I recollect now her features, as if I had only seen her yesterday, and, after the scores and scores of women I have fucked since, recollect every circumstance attending my having her, as distinctly as if it only occurred last week; yet very many years have passed away.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She was a little over seventeen years, had ruddy lips, beautiful bath, darkish hair, hazel eyes, and a slightly turn-up nose, large shoulders and breasts, was plump, generally of fair height, and looked eighteen or nineteen; her name was Charlotte.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I soon spoke to her kindly, by degrees became free in manner, at length chucked her under her chin, pinched her arm, and used the familiarities which nature teaches a man to use towards a woman. It was her business to open the door, and help me off with my coat and boots if needful; one day as she did so, her bum projecting upset me so that as she rose from stooping I caught and pinched her. All it was done with risk, for my mother then was nearly always at home, and the house being small, noise was easily heard.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was soon kissing her constantly. In a few days got a kiss in return, that drove me wild, her aunt came constantly into my mind, all sorts of wants, notions, and vague possibilities came across me; girls do let fellows feel them, I said to myself, I had already succeeded in that. What if I tell that I have seen it outside? will she tell my mother? will she let me feel her? what madness! yet girls do let men, girls like it, so all my friends say. Wild with hopes and anticipations, coming indoors one day, I caught her tightly in my arms, pulled her belly close to mine, rubbed up against hers saying, "Charlotte, what would I give, if you would . . . it was all I dared say. Then I heard my mothers bedroom door open, and I stopped.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Hugging and kissing a woman never stopped there, I told her I loved her, which she said was nonsense. We now used regularly to kiss each other when we got the chance; little by little I grasped her closer to me, put my hands round her waist, then cunningly round to her bum, then my prick used to stand and I was mad to say more to her, but had not the courage. I knew not how to set to work, indeed scarce knew what my desires led me to hope, and think at that time, putting my hand an to her cunt, and seeing it, Was perhaps the utmost; fucking her seemed a hopelessly mad idea, if I had the expectation of doing so at all very clearly.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I told a friend one or two years older than myself how matters stood, avoiding telling him who the girl was. His advice was short. Tell her you have seen her cunt, and make a snatch up her petticoats when no one is near, keep at it, and you will be sure to get a feel, and some day, pull out your prick, say straight you want to fuck her, girls like to see a prick, she will look, even if she turns her head away. This advice he dinned into my ears continually, but for a long time I was not bold enough to put his advice into practice.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One day, my mother was out, the cook upstairs dressing, we had kissed in the garden parlour, I put my hand round her bum, and sliding my face over her shoulder half ashamed, said, "I wish my prick was against your naked belly, instead of outside your clothes." She with an effort disengaged herself, stood amazed, and said, "I never will speak to you again." I had committed myself, but went on, though in fear, prompted by love or lust. My friend's advice was in my ears. "I saw your cunt as you got down from your father's cart," said I, "look at my prick (pulling it out), how stiff it is, it's longing to go into you, 'cock and cunt will come together.'" It was part of a smutty chorus the fellows sang at my college; she stared, turned round, went out of the room; through the garden, and down to the kitchen by the garden stairs, without uttering a word.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The cook was at the top of the house, I went into the kitchen reckless, and repeated all I had said She threatened to call the cook. "She must have seen your cunt, as well as me," said I; then she began to cry. Just as I was begging pardon, my friend's advice again rang in my ears, I stooped and swiftly ran both hands up her clothes, got one full on to her bum, the other on her motte; she gave a loud scream, and I rushed off upstairs in a fright.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The cook did not hear her, being up three pairs of stairs; down I went again, and found Charlotte crying, told her again all I had seen in the court yard, which made her cry more. She would ask the cook, and would tell my mother then hearing the cook coming downstairs, I cut off through the passage up into the garden.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The ice was quite broken now, she could not avoid me, I promised not to repeat what I had said and done, was forgiven, we kissed, and the same day I broke my promise; this went on day after day, making promises and breaking them, talking smuttily as well as I knew how, getting a slap on my head, but no further, my chances were few. My friend, whom I made a half confidant of, was always taunting me with my want of success and boasting of what be would have done had he had my opportunities.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My mother just at that time began to resume her former habits, leaving the house frequently for walks and visits. One afternoon she being out for the remainder of the day, I went home unexpectedly; the cook was going out, I was to fetch my mother home in the evening; Charlotte laid the dinner for me; we had the usual kissing, I was unusually bold and smutty. Charlotte finding me not to be going out seemed anxious. All the dinner things had been taken away, when out went the cook; and there were Charlotte, my little brother and I alone. It was her business to sit with him in the garden parlour when mother was out so as to be able to open the street-door readily, as well as go into the garden if the weather was fine. It was a fine day of autumn, she went into the parlour and was sitting on the huge old sofa, Tom playing on the floor, when I sat myself down by her side; we kissed and toyed, and then with heart beating, I began my talk and waited my opportunity.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The cook would be back in a few minutes, said she. I knew better, having heard mother tell cook she need not be home until eight o'clock. Although I knew this, I was fearful, but at length mustered courage to sing my cock and cunt song. She was angry, but it was made up. She went to give something to Tom, and stepping back put her foot on the lace of one boot which was loose, sat down on the sofa and put up one leg over the other, to relate it. I undertook to do it for her, saw her neat ankle, and a bit of a white stocking. "Snatch at her cunt," rang in my ears, I had never attempted it since the afternoon in the kitchen.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Lacing the boot, I managed to push the clothes up so as to see more of the leg, but resting as the foot did on one knee, the clothes tightly between, a snatch was useless: lust made me cunning, I praised the foot (though I knew not at that time how vain some women are of their feet). "What a nice ankle," I said, putting my hand further on. She was off her guard; with my left arm, I pushed her violently back on to the large sofa, her foot came off her knee, at the same moment, my right hand went up between her thighs, on to her cunt; I felt the sift, the hair, add moisture.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She got up to a sitting posture, crying, "You wretch, you beast, you blackguard," but still I kept my fingers on the cunt; she closed her legs, so as to shut my hand between her thighs and keep it motionless, and tried to push me off; but I clung round her. "Take your hand away," said she, "or I will scream." "I shan't!" Then followed two or three loud, very loud screams. "No one can hear; said I, which brought her to supplication. My friend's advice came again to me: pushing my right hand still between her thighs, with my left I pulled out my prick, as stiff as a poker. She could not do otherwise than see it; and then I drew my left hand round her neck, pulled her head to me, and covered it with kisses.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She tried to get up and nearly dislodged my right hand, but I pushed her back, and got my hand still further on to the cunt. I never thought of pressing under towards the bum, was in fact too ignorant of female anatomy to do it, but managed to get one of the lips with the hair between my fingers and pinch it; then dropped on to my knees in front of her and remained kneeling, preventing her getting back further on the sofa, as well as I could by holding her waist, or her clothes.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>There was a pause from our struggles, then more entreaties, then more attempts to get my right hand away; suddenly she put out one hand, seized me by the hair of my head, and pushed me backwards by it. I thought my skull was coming off, but kept my hold and pinched or pulled the cunt lip till she hollored and called me a brute. I told her I would hurt her as much as I could, if she hurt me; so that game she gave up; the pain of pulling my hair made me savage, and more determined and brutal, than before.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>We went on struggling at intervals, I kneeling with prick out, she crying, begging me to desist; I entreating her to let me see and feel her cunt, using all the persuasion and all the baudy talk I could, little Tom sitting on the floor playing contentedly. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I must have been half an hour on my knees, which became so painful that I could scarcely bear it; we were both panting, I was sweating; an experienced man would perhaps have had her then; I was a boy inexperienced, and without her consent almost in words would not have thought of attempting it, the novelty, the voluptuousness of my game was perhaps sufficient delight to me; at last I became conscious that my fingers on her cunt were getting wet; telling her so, she became furious and burst into such a flood of tears that it alarmed me. It was impossible to remain on my knees longer; in rising, I knew I should be obliged to take my hand from her cunt, so withdrawing my left hand from her waist, I put it also suddenly up her clothes, and round her bum, and lifted them up, showing both her thighs, whilst I attempted to rise. She got up at the same instant, pushing down her clothes, I fell over on one side, my knees were so stiff and painful, and she rushed out of the room upstairs.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>It was getting dusk, I sat on the sofa in a state of pleasure, smelling my fingers. Tom began to howl, she came down and took him up to pacify him; I followed her down to the kitchen, she called me an insolent boy, an awful taunt to me then), threatened to tell my mother, to give notice and leave, and left the kitchen, followed by me about the house; talking baudily, telling her how I liked the smell of my fingers, attempting to put my hand up her clothes, sometimes succeeding, pulling out my ballocks, and never ceasing until the cook came home, having been at this game for hours. In a sudden funk, I begged Charlotte to tell my mother that I had only come home just before the cook, and had gone to bed unwell; she replying she would tell my mother the truth, and nothing else. I was in my bedroom before cook was let in.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Mother came home later, I was in a fright, having laid in bed cooling down and thinking of possible consequences; heard the street-door knocker, got out of bed, and in my night-shirt went half way downstairs listening. To my relief, I heard Charlotte, in answer to my mother's enquiry, say I had come home about an hour before and had gone to bed unwell. My mother came to my room, saying how sorry she was.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>For a few days I was in fear, but it gradually wore off, as I found she had not told; our kissing recommenced, my boldness increased, my talk ran now freely on her legs, her bum, and her cunt, she ceased to notice it, beyond saying she hated such talk, and at length she smiled spite of herself. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Our kissing grew more fervid, she resisted improper action of my hand, but we used to stand with our lips close together for minutes at a time when we got the chance, I holding her to me as close as was One day cook was upstairs, mother in her bedroom, I pushed Charlotte up against the wall in the kitchen, and pulled up her clothes, scarcely with resistance; just then my mother rang, I skipped up into the garden and got into the parlour that way, soon heard my mother calling to me to fetch water, Charlotte was in hysterics at the foot of the stairs, after that, she frequently had hysterics, till a certain event occurred.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My chances were chiefly on Saturdays, a day I did not go to college; soon I was to cease going there and was to prepare for the army. I came home one day, when I knew Charlotte would be alone, the cook was upstairs,- I got her on to the sofa in the garden parlour, knelt and put my hands between her thighs, with less resistance than before, she struggled slightly but made no noise. She kissed me as she asked me to take away my hand; I could move it more easily on her quim, which I did not fail to do; she was wonderfully quiet.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Suddenly I became conscious that she was looking me full in the face, with a peculiar expression, her eyes very wide open, then, shutting them "Oho-oho", she said with a prolonged sigh, do - oh, take away - oh - your hand, Walter dear, - oh I shall be ill, - oho, - oho," then her head dropped down over my shoulder as I knelt in front of her; at the same moment, her thighs seemed to open slightly, then shut, then open with a quivering, shuddering motion, as it then seemed to me, and then she was quite quiet.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I pushed my hand further in, or rather on, for although I thought I had it up the cunt, I really was only between the lips, I know that now. With a sudden start she rose up, pushed me off, snatched up Tom from the floor, and rushed upstairs. My fingers were quite wet. For two or three days afterwards, she avoided my eyes and looked bashful, I could not make it out, and it was only months afterwards, that I knew, that the movement of my fingers on her clitoris had made her spend. Without knowing indeed then that such a thing was possible, I had frigged her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Although for about three months I had been thus deliciously amusing myself, anxious to feel and see her cunt, and though I had at last asked her to let me fuck her, I really don't think I had any definite expectation of doing it to her. I guessed now at its mutual pleasures, and so forth, yet my doing it to her appeared beyond me; but urged on by my love for the girl -for I did love her- as well as by sexual instinct, I determined to try. I also was quickened by my college friend, who had seen Charlotte at our house and not knowing it was the girl I had spoken to him about, said to me, "What a nice girl that maid of yours is, I mean to get over her, I shall wait for her after church next Sunday, she sits in your pew, I know." I asked him some questions, his opinion was that most girls would let a young fellow fuck them, if pressed, and that she would (this youth was but about eighteen years old), and I left him fearing what he said was true, hating and jealous of him to excess. He set me thinking, why should not I do it if he could, and if what be said about girls was true?- so I determined to try- it on, and by luck did so earlier than I expected.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>About one hour's walk from us was the town house of an aunt, the richest of our family and one of my mother's sisters. She alone now supplied me with what money I had, my mother gave me next to nothing. I went to see aunt, who asked me to tell my mother to go and spend a day with her, the next week, and named the day. I forgot this until three days afterwards, when hearing my mother tell the cook, she could go out for a whole holiday; I said, that my aunt particularly wished to see mother on that day. My mother scolded me for not having told her sooner, but wrote and arranged to go, forgetting the cook's holiday. To my intense fury, on that day she took brother Tom with her, saying to Charlotte, "You will have nothing to think of, but the house, shut it up early, and do not be frightened." I was as usual to fetch my mother home.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>In what an agitated state I passed that morning at school, and in the afternoon went home, trembling at my own intentions. Charlotte's eyes opened with astonishment at seeing me. Was I not going to fetch my, mother? I was not going till night. There was no food in the house, and I had better go to my aunt's for dinner. I knew there was cold meat, and made her lay the cloth in the kitchen. To make sure, I asked if the cook was out, yes, she was, but would be home soon. I knew that she stopped out till ten o'clock on her holidays. The girl was agitated with some undefined idea of what might take place, we kissed and hugged, but she did not like even that, I saw.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I restrained myself whilst eating, she sat quietly besides me; when I had finished she began to remove the things, the food gave me courage, her moving about stimulated me, I began to feel her breasts, then got my hands on to her thighs, we had the usual struggles, but it seems to me as I now think of it that her resistance was less and that she prayed me to desist more lovingly than was usual. We had toyed for an hour, she bad let a dish fall and smashed it, the baker rang, she took in the bread, and declared she would not shut the door unless I promised to leave off. I promised, and so soon as, she had closed it, pulled her into the garden parlour, having been thinking when in the kitchen how I could get her upstairs. Down went the bread on the floor, on to the sofa, I pushed her, and after a struggle she was sitting down, I kissing her, one arm round her waist, one hand between her thighs, close up to her cunt. Then I told her I wanted to fuck her, said all in favour of it I knew, half ashamed, half frightened, as I said it. She said she did not know what I meant, resisted less and less as I tried to pull her back on the sofa, when another ring came: it was the milkman. I was obliged to let her go, and she ran down stairs with the milk. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I followed, she went out and slammed the door, which led to the garden, in my face; for the instant, I thought she was going to the privy, but opened and followed on; she ran up the steps, into the garden, through the garden parlour, and upstairs to her bedroom just opposite to mine, closed and locked the door in my face, I begged her to let me in.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She said she would not come out till she heard the knocker or bell ring; there was no one called usually after the milkman, so my game was pp, but nothing makes man or woman so crafty as lust. In half an hour or so, in anger, I said I should go to my aunt's, went downstairs, moved noisily about, opened and slammed the street-door violently, as if I had gone out, then pulled off my boots, and crept quietly up to my bedroom.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>There I sat expectantly a long time, had almost given up hope, began to think about consequences if she told my mother, when I heard the door softly open and she came to the edge of the stairs. 'Wattle!" she said loudly, "Wattle!" much louder, 'He has: said she in a subdued tone to herself, as much as to say that worry is over.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I opened my door, she gave a loud shriek and retreated to her room, I close to her; in a few minutes more, hugging, kissing, begging, threatening, I know not how; she was partly on the bed, her clothes up in a heap, I on her with my prick in my hand, I saw the hair, felt the slit, and not much knowing then where the hole was or much about it, excepting that it was between her legs; shoved my prick there with all my might, "Oh! you hurt, I shall be ill,"said she, 'pray don't." Had she said she was dying I should not have stopped. The next instant a delirium of my senses came, my prick throbbing and as if hot lead was jetting from it, at each throb; pleasure mingled with light pain in it, and my whole from quivering with emotion; my sperm left me for a virgin cunt, but fell outside it, though on to it. How long I was quiet I don't know; probably but a short time; for a first pleasure does not tranquillise at that age; I became conscious that she was pushing me off of her, and rose up, she with me, to a half-sitting posture; she began to laugh, then to cry, and fell back in hysterics, as I had seen her before.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had seen my mother attend to her in those fits, but little did I them know that sexual excitement causes them in women and that probably in her I had been the cause. I got brandy and water and made her drink a lot, helping myself at the same time, for I was frightened, and made her lay on the bed. Then, ill as she was, frightened as I was, I yet took the opportunity her partial insensibility gave me, lifted her clothes quietly, and saw her cunt and my spunk on it. Roused by that, she pushed her clothes half down feebly and got to the side of the bed. I loving, begging pardon; kissing her, told her of my pleasure, and asked about hers, all snatches, for I thought I had done her. Not a word could I get, but she looked me in the face beseechingly, begging me to go. I had no such intention, my prick was again stiffening, I pulled it out, the sight of her cunt had stimulated me, she looked with languid eyes at me, her cap was off, her hair hanging about her head, her dress torn near her breast. More so than she had ever looked was she beautiful to me, success made me bold, on I went insisting, she seemed too weak to withstand me. "Don't, oh pray, don't," was all she said as, pushing her well on the bed, I threw myself on her and again put my doodle on to the slit now wet with my sperm. I was, though cooler, stiff as a poker, but my sperm was not so ready to flow, as it was in after days, at a second poke, for I was very young; but nature did all for me; my prick went to the proper channel, there stopped by something it battered furiously. "Oh, you hurt, oh!" she cried aloud. The next instant something seemed to tighten round its knob, another furious thrust, another, a sharp cry of pain (resistance was gone), and my prick was buried up her, I felt that it was done, and that before I had spent outside her. I looked at her, she was quiet, her cunt seemed to close on my prick, I put my hand down, and felt round. What rapture to find my machine buried! nothing but the balls to be touched, and her cunt hair wetted with my sperm, mingling and clinging to mine; in another minute nature urged a crisis, and I spent in a virgin cunt, my prick virgin also. Thus ended my first fuck.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My prick was still up her, when we heard a loud knock; both started up in terror, I was speechless. "My God, it is your mamma! Another loud knock. What a relief, it was the postman. To rush downstairs, and open the door was the work of a minute. "I thought you were all out," said he angrily, "I have knocked three times." 'We were in the garden," said I. He looked queerly at me and said, 'With your boots off!" and grinning went away. I went up again, found her sitting on the side of the bed, and there we sat together. I told her what the postman had said, she was sure he would tell her mistress. For a short time, there never was a couple who had just fucked, in more of a foolish funk then we were; I have often thought of our not hearing the thundering knocks of a postman, whilst we were fucking, though the bedroom door was wide open; what engrossing work it is so to deafen people. Then after unsuccessfully struggling to see her cunt, and kissing, and feeling each others genitals, and talking of our doings and our sensations for an hour, we fucked again.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>It was getting dark, which brought us to reason; we both helped remake the bed, went downstairs, shut the shutters, lighted the fire which was out, and got lights. I then, having nothing to do, began thinking of my doodle, which was sticking to my shirt, and pulling it out to see its condition, found my shirt covered with sperm smears, and spots of blood; my prick was dreadfully sore. I said to her that she had been bleeding, she begged me to go out of the kitchen for a minute, I did, and almost directly she came out and passed me, saying she must change her things before the cook came home. She would not let me stay in the room whilst she did it, nor did I see her chemise, though I had followed her upstairs; then the idea flashed across and that I had taken a virginity; that had never occurred to me before. She got hot water to wash herself. I did not know what to do with my shirt; we arranged' I should wash it before I went to bed. We thought it best to say I had not been home at all, and that I should go and fetch my mother. After much kissing, hugging, and tears on her part, off I went, hatching an excuse for not having fetched mother earlier, and we came home with Tom in my aunt's carriage, I recollect.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Before going to bed, I ordered hot water for a footbath. How we looked at each other as l ordered it. I washed my shirt as well as I could, and looked sadly at my sore prick, I could not pull the skin back so much as usual, it was torn, raw, and slightly bleeding. Awake nearly all night, thinking of my pleasure and proud of my success; I rose early and, looking at my shirt, found stains still visible, and that I had so mucked it in washing that an infant could have guessed what I had been doing. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I knew that my mother, who now did household duties herself, selected the things for the laundress; and in despair hit on a plan: I filled the chamber-pot with piss and soap-suds, making it as dirty as I could, put it near a chair and my shirt hanging over it carelessly, so as to look as if it had dropped into the pot by accident; left it there, and put on a clean shirt. After breakfast my mother, who usually helped to make my bed and her own as well, called out to me; up I went with my heart in my mouth, to hear her say she hoped I would be a little more careful and remember that we had no longer my poor father's purse. 'Look" said she, "a disgraceful state you left your shirt in, I am ashamed to have it sent to the laundress, have been obliged to tell the housemaid to partly wash it first, you are getting very careless." Charlotte afterwards told me that, when mother gave her the shirt to rough wash, she felt as if she should faint.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I need not repeat about my prepuce, which as said I could now pull down with a little less difficulty. Lacerated and painful over night, it was much more swollen and sore the nest morning, when I pissed it smarted, the thinking and smarting made me randy: risking all, whilst my mother was actually in the joining room, the poor girl in horrid fear and looking shockingly ill, I thrust my hand up her cloches and on to her split. She whispered, "What a wretch your are!" I went to college, came back at three o'clock, thinking about ways on the same subject; my prick got worse, I took it into my head, that Charlotte had given me some disease, and was in a dreadful state of mind. I washed it with warm water and greased it, having eased it thus a little, got the skin down, then could not get it back again; it got stiff; as it did so, sexual pleasures came into my mind, and worse got the pain. I greased it more, my pain grew less, I touched the tip with my greasy finger, it gave a throb of pleasure, I went on without meaning, almost without knowing; the pleasure came, and spunk shot out. I had frigged myself unintentionally again.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I watched my penis shrink, its tension lessen, its high colour go, then came the feeling of disgust at myself that I have always felt after frigging, a disgust not quite absent even when done by the little hands of fair friends, to whose quiets I was paying similar delicate attentions. I was able to pull up the skin again, but the soreness got worse, I told the poor girl that my prick was very sore, and that I thought it strange. It did not wound her feelings, for she did not know my suspicions. The next morning being no better, I with much hesitation told a college friend, he looked at my prick, and thought it either clap or pox. Frightened tp go to our own doctor, I at his advice went to a chemist, who did a little business in such matters; we dealt there, but my friend assured me that the man never opened his mouth to any, one, if youths consulted him, and many he knew had.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>With quaking I said to the chemist, that I had something the matter with my thing. "What" said he. "I don *t know." "Let me see it." I began to beg him not to mention it to my mother, or any one. "Don't waste my time," said he, "show it to me, if you want my advice." Out I pulled it as small as could be, but still with the skin over it. "Have you been with a woman?" said he. "Yes." He looked at my shirt, there was no discharge, then be laid hold of my prick with both hands, and with force pulled the skin right down, I howled. He told me there was nothing the matter with me, that the skin was too tight, that a snip would set me to rights, and advised me soon to have it done, saying, "It will save you trouble and money if you do, and add to your pleasure." I declined. "Another day, then." "No." He laughed and said, "Well, time will cure you, if you go on as you have begun," gave me a lotion, and in three days I was pretty right: warm water I expect would have had the same effect. I had simply torn the skin in taking the virginity.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Of course I wanted Charlotte again, she seemed in no way to help me, and used to cry, still there was a wonderful difference between then and before the happy consummation: she tried to pre vent my hands going up her petticoats, but, once up, objection ceased, and my hands would rove about on the outside and inside of all, we stood and kissed at every opportunity. "When shall we do it again?" She replied, "Never!" for she was sure it would bring punishment on us both.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I neglected my studies absolutely, all I thought about was her, and how to get at her, it must have been a week or more before I did. Ready for any risk, that day my mother was out, I came home, had the early dinner; the cook after that always went up to dress, or, as she said, clean herself, and there she always was an hour, waiting till I heard her go up, I went into the garden parlour, where as usual Charlotte was with my little brother. Going at her directly, I was refused, but now how different, once she would not rest until my hand was altogether away from her. Now I begged and besought her, with my hand up her clothes, my fingers on her quim. No, if we had not been found out, we were fortunate, but never, never, would she do it again; was I mad, did I wish to ruin her, was not the cook upstairs, might she not come down, whilst we did it? How light the room was, the sun was coming in. I dropped the blinds, her resistance grew less, as her cunt felt my twiddling. "No -- now no - oh, what a plague you are; hush! it is the cook." I open the door, listen, there is no one stirring. "What will she think if she finds you here?" "What does it matter? Now do - let me, - I'll bolt the door, if she comes I will get under the sofa, you say you, don't know how it got bolted." Such was my innocent device, but it sufficed, for both were hot in lust. I bolted it. My prick is out, I pull her reluctant hand on to it, my hands are groping now, but too impatient for dallying, I push her down on the sofa-that dear emit. "Don't hurt me so much again, oh, don't push so hard." Oh! what delight! in a minute we are spending, together this time.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I unlock the door, go back to the dining-room, she strolls out into the garden, cook speaks to her out of the window. "Where is master Wattle?" "In the dining-room, I suppose." Soon out I stroll into the garden, play with Tommy of course, she can scarcely look me in the face, she is blushing like a rose. "Was it not lovely, Charlotte, is not your thing wet?" In she rushes with Tom, soon I follow, cook is still upstairs. "Come, be quick." Again the bolt, again we fuck, she walks off into the garden with Tommy, her cunt full, and cook and she chat from the window. How we laughed about it afterwards.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Modesty retired after this, we gave way to our inclinations, she refusing but always letting me if we got a chance! We were still green and timid, at the end of three weeks we only had done it a dozen times or so, always with the cook in the house, always with fear. I was longing for complete enjoyment of all my senses, had never yet seen her cunt, except for a minute at a time, was mad for "the naked limb entwined with limb," and all I had read of in amatory poetry. I had gained years in boldness and manhood, and, although nervous, began to practice what I had heard. I heard of accommodation houses, where people could have bedrooms and no questions were asked; and found one not far from my aunt's, although she lived in the best quarter of London just before Charlotte's day out, I went to my aunt, complained of my mother's meanness, and she gave me a sovereign. On my way home, I loitered a full hour in the street with the baudy house, marked it so as to know it in the day, and saw couples go in, as my knowing friend who had told said I should. The next day, instead of going to college and risking discovery; I waited till Charlotte joined me, took a hackney coach to the street, and, telling Charlotte it was a tavern, walked to the door with her; to my astonishment it was closed. Disconcerted, I nearly turned back, but rang the bell. Charlotte said she would not go in. The door opened, a woman said, "Why did you not push the door?" Oh! the shame I felt as I went into that baudy house with Charlotte; the woman seemed to hesitate, or so I fancied, before she gave us a room.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>It was a gentleman's house, although the room cost but five shillings: red curtains, looking-glasses, wax lights, clean linen, a huge chair, a large bed, and a cheval-glass, large enough for the biggest couple to be reflected in, were all there. I examined all with the greatest curiosity, but my curiosity was greater for other things; of all the delicious, voluptuous recollections, that day stands among the brightest; for the first time in my life I saw all a woman's charms, and exposed my own manhood to one; both of us knew but little of the opposite sex. With difficulty I got her to undress to her chemise, then with but my shirt on, how I revelled in her nakedness, feeling from her neck to her ankles, lingering with my fingers in every crack and cranny of her body; from armpits to cunt, all was new to me. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>With what fierce eyes, after modest struggles, and objections to prevent, and I had forced open her reluctant thighs, did I gloat on her cunt; wondering at its hairy outer covering and lips, its red inner flaps, at the hole so closed up, and so much lower down and hidden than I thought it to be; soon, at its look and feel, impatience got the better of me; hurriedly I covered it with my body and shed my sperm in it. Then with what curiosity I paddled my fingers in it afterwards, again to stiffen, thrust, wriggle, and spend. All this I recollect as if it occurred but yesterday, I shall recollect it to the last day of my life, for it was a honey-moon of novelty; years afterwards I often thought of it when fucking other women.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>We fell asleep, and must have been in the room some hours, when we awakened about three o'clock. We had eaten nothing that day, and both were hungry, she objected to wash before me, or to piddle; how charming it was to overcome that needless modesty, what a treat to me to see that simple operation. We dressed and left, went to a quietish public-house, and had some simple food and beer, which set me up, I was ready to do all over again, and so was she. We went back to the house and again to bed; the woman smiled when she saw us; the feeling, looking, titillating, baudy inciting, and kissing recommenced. With what pleasure she felt and handled my prick, nor did she make objection to my investigations into her privates, though saying she would not let me. Her thighs opened, showing the red-lipped, hairy slit; I kissed it, she kissed my cock, nature taught us both what to do. Again we fucked, I found it a longish operation, and when I tried later again, was surprised to find that it would not stiffen for more than a minute, and an insertion failed. I found out that day that there were limits to my powers. Both tired out, our day's pleasure over, we rose and took a hackney coach towards home. I went in first, she a quarter of an hour afterwards, and everything passed off as I could have wished.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>From that day, lust seized us both; we laid our plans to have each other frequently, but it was difficult: my mother was mostly at home, the cook nearly always at home if mother was out; but quite twice a week we managed to copulate, and sometimes oftener. We arranged signals. If, when she opened the door, she gave a shake of the head, I knew mother was in; if she smiled and pointed down with her finger, mother was out, but cook downstairs; if it pointed up, cook was upstairs; in the latter case, to go into the garden parlour and fuck was done off hand. If cook was known to be going out, Charlotte told me beforehand, and if mother was to be out, I got home, letting college and tutors go to the devil. Then there was lip kissing, cunt kissing, feeling and looking, tickling and rubbing each other's articles, all the preliminary delights of copulation, and but one danger in the way: my little brother could talk in a broken way; we used to give him some favorite toy and put him on the floor, whilst we indulged voluptuously. On the sofa one day, I had just spent in her when I felt a little hand tickling between our bellies, and Tommy, who had tottered up to us, said, "Don't hurt Lotty, der's a good Wattle." We settled that Tom was too young to notice or recollect what he saw, but I now think different.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Winter was coming on, she used to be sent to a circulating library to fetch books, the shop was some distance off, a few houses, long garden-walls, and hedges were on the road. I used to keep out, or go out just before she went, and we fucked up against the walls. I took to going to church in the evening also, to the intense delight of my mother, but it was to fuck on the road home. One day, hot in lust, we fucked standing on the lobby near my bedroom, my mother being in the room below, the cook in the kitchen. We got bold, reckless, and whenever we met alone, if only for an instant, we felt each other's genitals. At last we found the servant's privy one of the best places. I have described its situation near to a flight of steps, at the end of a covered passage which could be seen from one point only in the garden; down there, anyone standing was out of sight. If all was clear, I used to ring the parlour bell, ask for something, and make a sign; when she thought it safe, there she would go, I into the garden, to where I could see into the passage by the side of the garden stairs. If I saw her, or heard "ahem," down I went into the privy and was up her cunt in a second, standing against the wall and shoving to get our spend over, as if my life depended on it; this was uncomfortable, but it had its charm. We left off doing it in the privy, being nearly caught one day there.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>We thought cook was upstairs, mother was out, I was fucking her, when the cook knocked saying, "Make haste, Charlotte, I want to come.' We had just spent, she was so frightened I thought she was fainting, but she managed to say "I cannot." "Do," said cook, "I am ill." "So am I," said Charlotte. Said cook, "I can sit on the little seat." "Go to misses' closet, she's out." Off cook went, out we came, and never fucked in that place again; one day I did her on the kitchen table, and several times on the dining-room table.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>We in fact did it everywhere else, and often enough for my health, for I was young, weak, and growing, and it was the same with her. The risk, we ran were awful, but we loved each other with all our souls. Both young, both new at the work, both liking it, it was rarely we got more than just time to get our fucking over and clothes arranged before we had to separate, for her to get to her duties. Many times I have seen her about the house, cunt full and with the heightened colour and brilliant eyes of a woman who had just been satisfied. I used to feel pleasure in knowing she was bringing in the dinner, or tea, with my spunk in her cunt; not having had the opportunity to wash or piddle it out.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>When she had another holiday, we went to the baudy house, and stayed so long in it that we had a scare; just asleep, we heard a knocking at the door. My first idea was that my mother had found me out, and, although I ruled her in one way, I was in great subjection to her, from not having any money. She thought her father was after her. What a relief it was to bear a voice say: 'Shall you be long, sir, we want the room?* I was having too much accommodation for my money. That night we walked home, for I had no money for a coach, and barely enough to get us a glass of beer and a biscuit; we were famished and fucked out; my mother had refused to give me money, and another aunt whom I had asked said I was asking too often, and refused also. Although we went to this baudy house, I always felt as if I was going to be hanged when I did, and it was with difficulty I could make her go: she called it a bad house, and it cost money. Something then occurred which helped me, penniless as I was.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>At the extreme end of our village were a few little houses; one stood with its side entrance up a road only partially formed, and without thoroughfare; its owner was a pew-opener, her daughter a dressmaker, who worked for servants and such like; they cut out things for servants, who in those days largely made their own dresses. Charlotte had things made there. At a fair held every year near us, of which I shall have to tell more, my fast friend, who had put me up to so much and who, I forgot to say, tried to get hold of Charlotte, I saw with the dressmaker's daughter. Said he, talking to me next day, she is jolly ugly, but she's good enough for a feel. I felt her cunt last night and think she has been fucked (he thought that of every girl); her mother is a rum old gal too, she will let you meet a girl at her cottage, not whores, you know, but if they are respectable. Is it a baudy house?" I asked. "Oh, no, it's quite respectable, but if you walk in with a lady, she leaves you in the room together, and, when you come out, if you just give her half a crown, she drops a curtsy, just as she does when she opens the pew-doors and anyone gives her six pence, but she is quite respectable, the clergyman goes to see her sometimes."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Charlotte asked to go out to a dressmaker, I met her as if by chance at the door, the old pew-opener asked if I would like to walk in and wait. I did. Charlotte came in after she had arranged about her dress. There was a sofa in the room, and she was soon on it; we left together, I gave two or three shillings (money went much further then), and the pew-opener said, "You can always wait here when your young lady comes to see my daughter."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>When we went a second time, she asked me if I went to St. Mary's Chapel (her chapel). We went to her house in the day that time. When we were going away, she said, "Perhaps you won't mind always going out first, for neighbours are so ill-natured." The old woman was really a pew-opener, her daughter really a dressmaker, but she was glad to earn a few shilling by letting her house be used for assignations of a quiet sort; she would not have let gay women in, from what I heard. She had lived for years in the parish and was thought respectable. She had not much use of her house in that way, wealthy people going to town for their frolics, - town only being an hour's journey - and no gay women being in the village that I knew of.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>At this house, I spent Charlotte's third holiday with her, in a comfortable bedroom. We stopped from eleven in the morning, till nine at night, having mutton chops and ale, and being as jolly as we could be. We did nothing the whole day long but look at each other's privates, kiss, fuck, and sleep outside the bed. It was there she expressed curiosity about male emissions. I told her how the sperm spurted out, then discussing women's, she told me of the pleasure I had given her when fingering her in the manner described already: we completed our explanations by my frigging myself to show her, and then my doing the same to her with my finger. I bungled at that, and think I hear her now saying, "No, just where you were is nicest." "Does it give you pleasure?" "Oh, yes, but I don't like it that way, Oh! - Oh! - I am doing it - Oh!" I had no money that day, Charlotte had her wages, and paid for everything, giving me her money to do so.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One day we laughed at having nearly been caught fucking in the privy. "She must have a big bum, must Mary," said I, "to sit on that little seat at the privy." Said Charlotte, "She is a big woman, twice as big as me, her bottom would cover the whole seat." This set us talking about the cook, and as what I then heard affected me much at a future day, I will tell all Charlotte said, as nearly as I can recollect.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Of course I have seen her naked bit by bit - when two women are together they can't help it, why should they mind - if you sit down to pee, you show your legs, and if you put on your stockings you show your thighs, then we-both wash down to our waists, and if you slip off your chemise or night-gown you show yourself all over. Mary's beautiful from head to foot; one morning in the summer, we sleeping in the same bed, were very hot. I got out to pee, we had kicked all the clothes off, Mary was laying on her back with night-clothes above her waist fast asleep, I could not help looking at her thighs, which were so large and white - white as snow." "Had she much hair on her cunt?" said I. "What's that to you?" said she, laughing, but went on: "Oh! twice as much as I have, and of a light brown." "I suppose her cunt is bigger than yours?" said I reflectively. "Well, perhaps it is," said Charlotte, "she is a much bigger woman than me, what do you think?" I inclined to the opinion it must be, but had no experience to guide me; on the whole we agreed that it was likely to be bigger.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Then," said she, "I suppose some men have smaller things than yours?" I told her that as far as I knew they varied slightly, but only had knowledge of youthful pricks, and could not he certain whether they varied much when full grown or not. We went on about Mary. "I know I should like to be such a big, fine woman." "But," said I, "I don't like light hair. I like dark hair on a cunt, light hair can't look well, I should think." "I like her," said Charlotte, "she is a nice woman, but often dull, she has no relatives in London, never says anything about them or herself, she used to have letters, and then often cried; she has none now; the other night she took me in her arms, gave me a squeeze and said, 'Oh! if you were a nice young man now, then laughed and said, 'perhaps we would put our things together and make babies.' I was frightened to say anything, for fear she should find out I knew too much; I think she has been crossed in love."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was twiddling Charlotte's quim, as I was never tired of doing, something in the sensation I suppose reminded her, for, laughing, she went on. "You know what you did to me the other night?" "What?" said I, not recollecting. "You know, with your finger." "Oh! frig." "Yes, well, Mary does that; I was awake one night, and was quite quiet, when I heard Mary breathing hard, and felt her elbow go jog, jog, just touching my side, then she gave a sigh, and all was quiet. I went to sleep, and have only just thought of it." She had heard or felt this jog from the cook before, so we both concluded that she frigged herself; Charlotte knew what frigging was.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Do you recollect your mamma's birthday?" said Charlotte. "She sent us down a bottle of sherry, the gardener was to have some, but did not; so we were both a little fuddled when we went to bed. When Mary was undressed she pulled up her clothes to her hips, and looking at herself said, 'My legs are twice as big as yours. Then we made a bet on it and measured; she lost, but her thigh was half as big again round as mine; then she threw herself on her back and cocked up her legs, opening them for a minute. I said 'Lord, Mary, what ever are you doing?"Ah' said she, 'women's legs were made to open,' and there it ended. I never beard her before say or do anything improper, she is most particular." If Charlotte had been older or wiser, she would not have extolled the naked beauties of a fellow servant to her lover, for the description of the big bum, white thighs, and hairy belly bottom, the jog, jog of the elbow, and all the other particulars, sank deep into my mind. We fucked more than ever, recklessly it is a wonder we were not found out, for one evening, it being dark, I fucked her in the forecourt, outside our street-door; but troubles were coming.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Her father wrote to know why she had not been home at her holidays, she got an extra holiday to go and pacify him; then we had a fright because her courses stopped, but they came on all right again. One of my sisters came home and diminished our opportunities; still we managed to fuck somehow, most of the time they were uprighters. The next holiday she went home by coach (the only way), I met her on the return, and we fucked up against the garden wall of our house. A month slipped away, again we spent her holiday at the pew-opener's; no man and woman could have liked each other more, or more enjoyed each other's bodies, without thinking of the rest of the world. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I disguised nothing from her, she told me all she knew of herself, the liking she took for me, her pleasure yet fear and shame when first I felt her cunt, the shock of delight and confusion when, on my twiddling it, she had spent; how she made up her mind to run out of the house when the milkman came, the hysterical faint when I first laid my prick between her slit and spent, the sensation of relief when I had not done, as instinct told her I should, in spending outside, the sort of feeling of "poor fellow, he wants me, he may do as he likes," which she had; I told my sensations. All these we told each other, over and over again, and never tired of the conversation; we were an innocent, reckless, randy couple.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>We had satisfied our lusts in simple variety, but I never put my tongue in her mouth, nor do I know that I had heard of that form of lovemaking-but more of that hereafter. I did her on her belly, and something incited me to do it to her dog fashion, but it was never repeated; we examined as said each other's appendages, but once satisfied, having seen mine get from flaccid to stiff, the piddle issue, the spunk squirt, she never wanted to see it again, and could not understand my insatiable curiosity about hers. She knew, I think, less than most girls of her age about the males, having never, I recollect, nursed male children, and I don't think she had brothers.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>How is it that scarcely any woman will let you willingly look at her cunt after fucking, till it is washed? Most say it is beastly, gay or quiet; it is the same. Is it more beastly to have it spurted up, to turn and go to sleep with the spunk oozing on to a thigh, or an hour afterwards to let a man paddle in what has not dried? They don't mind that, but won't let you look at it after your operations, willingly - why?</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>A modest girl lays quietly after fucking, and does not wash till you are away. A young girl who has let you see her cunt and take her virginity-, won't wash it at all until you point out the necessity. A gay woman often tries to shove back her bum just as you spend, gets the discharge near the outlet, uncunts you quickly, and at once washes and pisses at the same time. A quiet young girl wipes her cunt on the outside only. A working man's wife does the same. I have fucked several, and not one washed before me. I incline to the opinion that poor women rarely wash their cunts inside, their piddle does all the washing. "What's the good of washing it?" said a poor but not a gay girl to me, "it's always clean and feels just the same an hour afterwards, whether washed or not." Is the unwashed cunt less healthy than one often soaped and syringed? I doubt it. An old roue said to me he would not give a damn to fuck a cunt at night which has been washed since the morning. About sexual matters each of us knew about as much as the other, and we had much to learn. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>A girl, however, in the sphere of life of Charlotte, usually knows more about a man's sex than a youth of the same age does of a woman's; they have nursed children and know what a cock is; a girl is never thought too young to nurse a male child, no one would trust a boy after ten years of age to nurse a female child; but she had never nursed. From Charlotte I had my fast knowledge of menstruation and of other mysteries of her sex. Ah! that menstruation was a wonder to me, it was marvellous, but all was really a wonder to me then.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>After Christmas, my sister went back to school, our chances seemed improving, we spent another holiday at the pew-opener's. I had got money, and we were indiscreet enough to go to see some wax-works. Next day her father came to see her, he ordered her to tell where she had been. She refused, he got angry, and made such a noise that mother rang to know what it was. He asked to see her, apologized, and said his daughter had been out several holidays without his knowing where she had been. My mother said it was very improper, and that he ought. A friend was with us in the room, and I sat there reading and trembling. My mother remarked to the lady, "I hope that girl is not going wrong, she is very good looking." Mother asked me to go out of the room, then had Charlotte up, and lectured her, afterwards Charlotte told me, for the first time, that her father was annoyed because she would not marry a young man.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>A young man had called at our house several times to see her; she saw him once and evaded doing so afterwards. He was the son of a well-to-do baker a few miles from Charlotte's home, and wished to marry her; his father was not expected to live, and the young man said he would marry her directly the father died. Her mother was mad at her refusing such a chance. Charlotte showed me his letters, which then came, and we arranged together the replies. She went home, and came back with eyes swollen with crying; some one had written anonymously to say she had been seen at the wax-works with a young man, evidently of position above her, and had been seen walking with a young man. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The mother threatened to have a doctor examine her to see if she had been doing anything wrong; no one seemed to have suspected me; her father would have her home, her mother had had suspicion of her for some time, "The sooner you marry young Brown the better, he will have a good business and keeps a horse and chaise, you will never have such a chance again, and it will prevent you going wrong, even if you have not already gone wrong," said her mother.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>It was a rainy night, I had met her on her return, and we both stood an hour under an umbrella, talking and crying, she saying, "I knew I should be ruined; if I marry he will find me out, if I don't they will lead me such a life; oh! what shall I do!" We fucked twice in the rain against a wall, putting down the umbrella to do it. Afterwards we met at the dressmaker's, talked over our misery, and cried, and fucked, and cried again. Then it was nothing but worry, she crying at her future, I wondering if I should be found out; still, with all our misery, we never failed to fuck if there was a clear five minutes before us. Then her mother wrote to say that old Brown was dead, and her father meant to take her away directly; she refused, the father came, saw my mother, and settled the affair by taking back Charlotte's box of clothes. I had not a farthing; at her age a father had absolute control, and nothing short of running away would have been of use. Me talked of drowning ourselves, or of her taking work in the fields. I projected things equally absurd for myself. I tended in her agreeing to go home, -she could not help that, - but refusing to marry.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Charlotte wrote me almost directly after her return. My mother had reserved the right of opening my letters, although she had ceased to do so. That morning seeing she had one addressed to me, in fear I snatched it out of her hand. She insisted on having it back, I refused, and we bad a row. "How dare you, sir, give it me." "I won't, you shan't open my letter." "I will, a boy like you!" "I am not a boy, I am a man, if you ever open a letter of mine, I will go for a common soldier, instead of being an officer." "I will tell your guardian." "I mean to tell him how shamefully short of money I am; Uncle "' says it's a shame, so does aunt." My, mother sank down in tears; it was my last rebellion; she spoke to my guardian, never touched my letters again, and gave me five times the money. I used to have, but, to make sure, I had letters enclosed to a friend, and fetched them.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Charlotte was not allowed to go out alone and was harassed in every way; for all that, I managed to meet her at a local school, one Saturday afternoon when it was empty; some friendly teacher let her in, and she let me in. We fucked on a hard form, in a nearly dark room, about the most difficult poke I ever had, it was a ridiculous posture. But our meeting was full of tears, despondency, and dread of being with child She told me I had ruined her, even fucking did not cheer her. A week or so afterwards, having no money, I walked all the way to try to see her, and failed Afterwards, in her letters, she begged me never to tell anyone about what had passed between us. Her father sent her away to his brothers, where she was to help as a servant; for somehow be had got wind that she had met some one at the school-house. There she fell ill and was sent home again. Then she wrote that she should marry, or have no peace, wished I was older, and then she could marry me; she did not write much common sense, although it did not strike me so then. She was coming to London to buy things, would say she would call on my mother on the road, but would meet me instead. How she humbugged the young woman who came to town with her, I don't know, but we met at the baudy house, cried nearly the whole time, but fucked for all that till my cock would stand no longer; then, vowing to see each other after she was married, we parted.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She married soon, my mother told me of it; she lived twelve miles from us, and did not write to me. I went there one day, but, although I lingered long near their shop, I never saw her. I did that a second time, she saw me looking in, and staggered into a back room. I dared not go in for fear of injuring her. Afterwards came a letter not signed, breathing love, but praying me not to injure her, as might be if I was seen near her house. Money, distance, time was all against me; I felt all was over, took to frigging, which, added to my vexation, made me ill. What the doctor thought I don't know; he said I was suffering from nervous exhaustion, asked my mother if I was steady and kept good hours. My mother said I was the quietest and best of sons, as innocent as a child, and that I was suffering from severe study-she had long thought I should; the fact being that for four months I had scarcely looked at a book, excepting when she was near me, and had, when not thinking of Charlotte, spent my time in writing baudy words and sketching cunts and pricks with pen and ink.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Thus I lost my virginity, and took one; thus ended my first love * or lust; which will you call it? I call it love, for I was fond of the girl, and she of me. Some might call it a seduction, but thinking of it after this lapse of years, I do not. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>It was only the natural result of two people being thrown together, both young, full of hot blood, and eager to gratify their sexual curiosity; there was Do blame to either, we were made to do it, and did but illustrate the truth of the old song, "Cock and cunt will come together, check them as you may," and point to the wisdom of never leaving a young male and female alone together, if they were not wanted to copulate.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>In all respects we were as much like man and wife as circumstances would let us be. We poked and poked, whenever we got a chance; we divided our money, if I had none, she spent her wages; when I had it, I paid for her boots and clothes, a present in the usual sense of the term I never gave her; our sexual pleasures were of the simplest, the old fashioned way was what we followed, and altogether it was a natural, virtuous, wholesome, connexion, but the world will not agree with me on that point.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One thing strikes me as remarkable now: the audacity with which I went to a baudy house; all the rest seems to have and followed as naturally as possible. What a lovely recollection it is nothing in my career since is so lovely as our life then was; scarce a trace of what may be called lasciviousness was in it; had the priest blest it by the bands of matrimony, it would have been called the chaste pleasure of love and affection- as the priest had nothing to do with it, it will be called, I suppose, beastly immorality. I have often wondered if her husband found out that she was not a virgin, and, if not, whether it was owing to some skill of hers, or to his ignorance? I heard afterwards that they lived happily.</I></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 6.</I><I> </I><I>At the Manor house • Fred's amours • Sarah and Mary • What drink and money does • My second virgin • My first whore • Double fucking • Gamahuching • Minette • A Belly up and down.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One aunt as said lived in H***shire, a widow; her son, my cousin Fred, was preparing for the Army. I wanted a change and went by advice to stay there. Fred was a year eider than me, wild and baudy to the day of his death, he talked from boyhood incessantly about women. I had not seen him for some time, and he told me of his amours, asking me about mine. I let him know all, without disclosing names; he told me in nearly the words that it was "a lie," for he had heard my mother say that I was the steadiest young fellow possible, and she could trust me anywhere. This, coupled with my quiet look and the care I took not to divulge names, made him disbelieve me; but I disclosed so many facts about women's nature that he was somewhat astonished. He told me what he had done, about having had the clap, and what to do if I got it; then he had seduced a cottagers daughter on the estate; but his description of the taking did not accord with my limited experience. One day he pointed the girl out to me at the cottage door, and said he now had her whenever he wanted.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She was a great coarse wench, whom he had seen in my aunt's fields. He had caught her piddling on one side of a hedge; she saw him looking at the operation from a ditch, and abused him roundly for it; it ended in an acquaintance, and his taking her virginity one evening on a hay-cock, that was his account of it. Her father was a labourer on my aunt's estate, the girl lived with him and a younger sister, her name was Sarah; he expatiated on her charms from backside to bubbies, but it was soon evident to me that with this woman it was no money, no cunt; for he borrowed money off me to give her. I had squeezed money out of my aunt, my guardian, and mother, and had about ten pounds, a very large sum for me then, so I lent him a few shillings.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>He had his shove, as he called it, and triumphantly gave me again such account of his operations and the charms of the lady that I, who, had been some time without poking, wondered if the girl would let me; arguing to myself, he gives her money -my girl never wanted money, - why should his? He had been dinning into my ears that all women would let men for money, or presents, or else from lust. "Kiss and grope, and if they don't cry out, show them your prick and go at them." These maxims much impressed me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Fred," said my aunt at breakfast, "ride over to Brown about his rent, you will be sure to find him at the corn market," and she gave him other commissions at the market town. I promised to ride with him, but had been tortured with randiness about this great wench of his; so made some excuse and, as soon as he was well off, sauntered towards the cottage, which was about half a mile from the Hall. It was one of a pair in a lane. Scarcely anyone passed them, excepting people on my aunt's lands. One was empty. The girl was sweeping in front of the cottage, the door was wide open. I gave her a nod, she dropped a respectful curtsey. Looking round and seeing no one, I said, "May I come in and rest, for it is hot and I am tired?" "Yes, sir," said she, and in I went, she giving me a chair; then she finished her sweeping. Meanwhile I had determined to try it on. "Father at home?" "No, sir, he be working in the seven acre field." "Where is your sister?" "At mill, sir," meaning a paper mill. I thought of Fred. It was my first offer, and I scarcely knew how to make it, but, chucking her under the chin, said, "I wish you would let me." "What, sir?" "Do it to you," said I boldly, "and I will give you five shillings," producing the money; I knew it was what Fred gave her usually.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She looked at me and the five shillings, which was then more than her wages for a week's work in the fields, burst into laughter and said, 'Why, who would ha' thought a gentleman from the Hall would say that to a poor girl like me." "Let me do it," said I hurried, "if you won't I must go. I will give you seven and six pence.' "You wont tell the young squire?" said she, meaning Fred. "Of course not." She went to the door, looked both ways, then at the clock, shut the door, and bolted it without another word.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The house consisted of a kitchen, a bedroom leading out of it, and a wash-house. She opened the bedroom door, there were two beds which almost filled the room; at the foot of one was a window, by its side a wash-stand. She got on to the largest bed saying, "Make haste." I pulled up her clothes to her navel and looked. "Oh! make haste," said she. But I could not, it was the third cunt I had seen, and I paused to contemplate her. Before me lay a pair of thick, round thighs, a large belly, and a cunt covered with thick brown hair, a dirty chemise round her waist, coarse woollen blue stockings darned with black, and, tied below the knees with, thick hob-nailed boots. The bed beneath was white and clean, which made her things look dirtier; it was different to what I had been accustomed to. I looked too long, "Better make haste, for father will be home to dinner," said she.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I put my hand to her cunt, she opened her highs, and I saw the cleft, with a pair of lips on each side like sausages, a dark vermillion strong clitoris sloped down and hid itself between the lips, in the recesses of the cock-trap; the strong light from the window enabled me to see it as plainly as if under a microscope. I pushed my finger up, then my cock knocked against my belly, asking to take the place of my finger, and so up I let it go. No sooner was I lodged in her, than arse, cunt, thighs and belly, all worked energetically, and in a minute I spent, just as I pulled out, her cunt closed round my prick with a strong muscular action, as if it did not wish the warm pipe withdrawn, a movement of the muscles of the cunt alone, and it drew the last drop of lingering sperm out of me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I got on my knees, contemplating the sausage lips half open, from which my sperm was oozing, and then got off sorry it had been so quick a business. She laid without moving and looking kindly at me said, 'Ye may ha me agin an yer loike. But your father will be home?" "In half an hour," said she. "I don't think I can, said I. Such coolness in a woman was new to me, I scarcely knew what to make off it. She got hold of my tool, I had not had a woman for some time, soon felt lust entering my rod again, and sought her cunt with my hands. She opened her legs wider in a most condescending manner, and I began feeling it. I was soon fit, which she very well knew, for immediately with a broad grin on her face she pulled me on to her and put my prick in her cunt herself, lodging it with a clever jerk of her bum, a squeeze, and a wriggle.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I fucked quietly, but it was now her turn; she heaved and wriggled so that once she threw my prick out of her, but soon had it in again. "Shove, shove," said she suddenly, and I shoved with all my might, she gripped my arse so tightly that she must have left the marks of her fingers on it, then, with a close wriggle and a deep sigh, she lay still, her face as red as fire, and left me to finish by my own exertions. I felt the same squeeze of the cunt as I withdrew, one of those delicious contractions which women of strong muscular power in their privates can give; not all can do it. Those who cannot never can understand it. Those who can will make a finger sensible of its clip, if put up their cunts.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She got up and tucked her chemise between her legs to dry her split, she did not wash it. "I am always alone," said she, "between eight and twelve just now," and as any woman just then answered my wants, I made opportunities, and I had her again two or three times, till a rare bit of luck occurred to me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>We were in the bedroom one hot day; to make it cooler I took off trowsers and drawers, laid them on a chair, carefully rolled my shirt up round my waist, so as to prevent spunk falling upon it, and thus naked from my boots to waist, laid myself on the top of my rollicking, belly-heaving, rump-wriggling country lass.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I always gave her five shillings before I began; she had taken a letch for me, or else, being hot cunted and not getting it done to her often, dearly liked my poking her; and, seeming to want it that day unusually, began her heaving and wriggling energetically. We were well on towards our spend, when with a loud cry of "Oh! my God!" she pushed me off and wriggled to the bedside. I got off and saw a sturdy country girl of about fifteen or sixteen years standing in the bedroom door, looking at us with a broad grin, mixed with astonishment, upon her face.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>For an instant nobody spoke. Then the girl said with a malicious grin, "Pretty goings on Sarah, if fearther knowed un-" "How dare you stand looking at me?" said Sarah. "It's my room as well as yourn," said Martha, for that was her name; and nothing further was said then. But Martha's eyes fixed on me as I sat naked up to my waist with my prick wet, rigid, red, throbbing, and all but involuntarily jerking out its sperm. I was in that state of lust, that I could have hacked anything in the shape of a cunt, and scarcely knew, in the confusion of the moment, where I was, and what it was all about. Sarah saw my state, and began pulling down my shirt. "Go out of the room," said she to her sister. "Damn it I will finish, I will fuck you," said I making a snatch at her cunt again. "Oh! for God's sake, don't, sir," said she. With a grin out went young sister Martha into the kitchen, and then Sarah began to blubber, "If she tells fearther, he will turn me out into the streets."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Don't be a fool," said I, "why should she tell?" "Because we are bad friends." "Has she not done it?" "No, she is not sixteen." "How do you know she has not?" "Why we sleep together, and I know." "Who sleeps in the other bed?" "Fearther." "In the same room?" "Yes." "Don't you know anything against her?'" "No, last haymaking I seed a young man trying to put his hands up her clothes, that's all; she has only been a woman a few months." If she tells of her, she will tell of me, I thought. It might come to my aunt's ears, Fred would know, and I should get into a scrape.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"It is a pity she has not done it," said I, "for then she would not tell." "I wish she had," she replied. One thing suggested another. "She knows all about what we were doing?" Sarah nodded. "Get her to promise not to tell, and get her to let me do it to her, and I will give you two pounds," said I, taking the money out of my purse. It was more money than she had ever had in her life at one time, her eyes glistened; she was silent a minute as if reflecting, then said, "She has always been unkind to me; and she shan't get me turned out if I can help it." Then, after further talk, some hesitation, and asking me if I was sure I would give her the money, she said, "I'll try, let's have a jolly good drink, then Ill leave you together," and we went into the kitchen. I saw her dodge.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Martha was leaning, looking out of the window, her bum sticking out, her short petticoats showing a sturdy pair of legs; she turned round to us, it was about eleven o'clock in the day, the old man was at work far off and had taken his dinner with him that day, Sarah had told me. "You won't tell fearther,' said Sarah in a smooth tone. No reply but a grin. "If you do, I will tell him I saw young Smith's hand up your clothes." "It's a lie." "Yes, he did, and you know you have seen all he has got to show." "You are a liar," said Martha. Sarah turned to me and said, "Yes, she did, we both saw him leaking, and a dozen more chaps." "She saw their cocks?" said I. "Yes." "You took me to see them, you bitch," said Martha, bursting out in a rage. "You did not want much taking; what did you say, and what did you do in bed that night, when we talked about it?" "You are a wicked wretch, to talk like that before a strange young man," said Martha and bounced out of the cottage. In a short time she came in again; the eldest told me scandals she knew about her sister and made her so wild that they nearly fought. I stopped them, they made it up, and I sent off the eldest to fetch shrub, gin and peppermint; it was a good mile to the tavern in the village.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>When she had gone, I told Martha I hoped she would do no mischief. She was nothing loath to let me kiss her, so there was soon acquaintance between us. She had seen me half naked, how long she had been watching I knew not, but it was certain she bad seen me shoving as hard as I could between the naked thighs of her sister, and that was well calculated to make her randy and ready for the advances of a. man' "Here is five shillings, don't, say anything, my dear." "I won't say nothing," said she, taking the money. Then I kissed her again, and we talked on.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"How did you like him feeling you?" I asked, "was he stiff?" No reply. "Was it not nice when he got his hand on your thigh?" Still no reply. "You thought it nice when in bed, Sarah says." "Sarah tells a wicked story,' she burst out. "What does she tell?" "I don't know." "I will tell you my dear; you talked about Smith's doodle and the other men's you saw pissing." "You are the gentleman from London stopping at the Hall," she replied, "so you had better go back and leave us poor girls alone," and she looked out of the window again.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"I am at the Hall," said I, putting my hand round her waist, "and like pretty girls," and I kissed her until she seemed mollified and said, "What can you want in troubling poor girls like us?" "You are as handsome as a duchess, and I want you to do the same as they do." "What is that?" said she innocently. "Fuck," said I boldly. She turned away looking very confused. "You saw me on your sister, between her thighs, that was fucking; and you saw this" at the same time pulling out my-prick, "and now I am going to feel your cunt" I put my hand up her clothes and tried to feel, but she turned round, and after a struggle half squatted on the floor to prevent me. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The position was favorable, I pushed her sharply half on to her back on the floor, got my fingers on to her slit, and in a moment we were struggling on the floor, she screaming loudly as we rolled about She was nimble, got up, and escaped me, but by the time her sister came back I had felt her bum, pulled her clothes up, and talked enough baudiness; she had hollowed, cried, laughed, abused, and forgiven me, for I had promised her a new bonnet, and had given her more silver.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Sarah brought back the liquors; there was but one tumbler and a mug, we did with those; the weather was hot, the liquor nice, the girls drank freely. In a short time they were both frisky. It got slightly into my head; then the girls began quarrelling again and let out all about each other, the elder's object being to upset the younger one's virtue and make her hewed I began to get awfully randy, and told Sarah I had felt her sister's cunt whilst she had been out She laughed and "said, "All right, she will have it well felt some day, she's a fool if she don't" We joked about my disappointment in the morning, I asked Sarah to give me my pleasure then. "Aye," said she, "and it is pleasure; when Martha has once tasted it, she will like it again." Martha, very much fuddled, laughed aloud, saying, "How you two do go on." Then I put my hands up Sarah's clothes. "Lord how stiff my prick is, look," and I pulled it out, Martha saying "I won't stand this," rushed from the room. I thought she had gone, and wanted to have Sarah; but she thought of the two pounds, and, shutting Martha's mouth, 'Try her; said she, "she must have it some day, she'll come in soon." When the girl did, we went on drinking. What with mixing gin, peppermint, and rum shrub, both got groggy, and Martha the worst. Then out went Sarah saying she must go to the village to buy something, and she winked at me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She had whilst the girl was outside told me to bolt the front door, and if by any chance her father came home, which was not likely, to get out of the bedroom window, and through a hedge, which would put me out of sight in a minute. Directly she was gone l bolted the door and commenced the assault. Martha was so fuddled, that she could not much resist my feeling her bum and thighs, yet I could not get her to go and lie down; she finished the liquor, staggered, and then I felt her clitoris. I was not too steady, but sober enough to try craft where force failed. I wanted to piss, and did; holding the pot so that she could see my cock at the door, but she would not come into the bedroom. Then I dropped a' sovereign, and pretending I could not find it, asked her to help me; she staggered into the bedroom laughing a drunken laugh. The bed was near, I embraced her, said I would give her two sovereigns if she would get on the bed with me. "Two shiners?" said she. "There they are," said I laying them down. "No-no," but she kept looking at them. I put them into her hand, she clutched them saying, "No-no," and biting one of her fingers, whilst I began again titillating her clitoris, she letting me. From that moment I knew what money would do with a woman. Then I lifted her up on to the bed and lay down besides her. All her resistance was over, she was drunk.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I pulled up her clothes; she lay with eyes shut, breathing heavily, holding the gold in her hand. I pulled open her legs, with scarcely resistance, and saw a mere trifle of a hair on the cunt; the novelty so pleased me that I kissed it; then for the first time in my life I licked a cunt, the spittle from my mouth ran on to it, I pulled open the lips, it looked different from the cunts I had seen, the hole was smaller. "Surely," thought I, "she is a virgin." She seemed fast asleep, and let me do all I wanted.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>In after life, I should have revelled in the enjoyment of anticipation before I had destroyed the hymen; but youth, want. Liquor, drove me on, and I don't remember thinking much about the virginity, only that the cunt looked different from the others I had known. The next instant I laid my belly on hers. "Oh! you are heavy, you smother me," said she rousing herself, "you're going to hart me, - don't, sir, it hurts," all in a groggy tone and in one breath. I inserted a finger between the lips of her quim and tried gently to put it up, but felt an impediment. She had never been opened by man. I then put my prick carefully in the nick, and gave the gentlest possible movement (as far as I can recollect) to it. Her cunt was wet with spittle, I well wetted my prick, grasped her round her bum, whilst I finally settled the knob of my tool against it, then, putting my other hand round her bum, grasped her as if in a vise, nestled my belly to hers, and trembling with lust, gave a lunge, - another, - and another. I was entering. In another minute it would be all over with me, my sperm was moving. She gave a sharp "Oh!" A few more merciless shoves, a loud cry from her, my prick was up her, and her cunt was for the first time wetted with a man's sperm; with short, quiet thrusts I fell into the dreamy pleasure, laying on the top of her. Soon I rolled over to her side; to my astonishment she lay quite still with mouth open, snoring and holding the two sovereigns in her hand.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I gently moved to look at her; her legs were wide open, her gown and chemise (all the clothing she had on) up to her navel, her cunt showed a red streak, my spunk was slowly oozing out, streaked with blood, a little was on her chemise; but I looked in vain for that sanguinary effusion which I saw on Charlotte's chemise and on my shirt when I last had her; and, from later experience, think that young girls do not bleed as much as full grown women, when they lose their virginity. Her cunt, as I found from ample inspection afterwards, was lipped like her sister's; the hair, about half an inch long, scarcely covered the mons, and only slightly came down the outer lips, her thighs were plump and round, her calves big for her age; she was clean in her flesh, but alas thick blue stockings with holes and darns, bit boots with holes at the sides, a dirty ragged chemise, dark garters below the knees, made an ugly spectacle compared with the clean whiteness of Charlotte's linen.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>But the sight took effect, my prick had her blood on it, quietly I slid my finger up her cunt, it made her restless, she moved her legs together, shutting my hand in them; she turned on her side, and showed a plump white bum, over one side of which a long streak of bloody sperm had run. I pulled her on to her back and got on to her, then she awakened struggling and called out loudly, but I was heavy on her, my prick at her cum's mouth, and I pushed it up until it could no further, whilst she kept calling out, I was hurting her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>'Be quiet, I can't hurt you, my prick is right up you,' said I, beginning the exercise, She made no reply, her cunt seemed deliciously small, whenever I pushed deep, she winced as if in pain, I tried to thrust my tongue into her mouth, but she resisted it. Suddenly she said, "Oh! go away, Sarah will be home and find us." I had my second emission, and went to sleep with my prick up he. I was groggy. She slept also. I awakened, got up tired with heat, excitement, drink and fucking. She got up, and sat on the side of the bed, half sobered but stupid, dropped a sovereign, and did not attempt to pick it up. I did, and put it back into her hands; she took it without saying a word. When buttoned up, I asked her what she was going to do, but all the reply I could get was, "You go now." I went into the kitchen, banged the door, but held the latch, the door remained ajar, and I peeped through.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She sat perfectly still so long, that I thought she was never going to move; then sat down on the chair and laid her head against the bed, looking at the sovereigns at intervals; then put them down, put her hand up her petticoats carefully feeling her cunt, looked at her fingers, burst into tears, sat crying for a minute or two, then put a basin with water on to the floor, and, unsteady, partially upset it, but managed to wash, and got back on to the chair, leaving the basin where it was. Then she pulled up the front of her chemise and looked at it, again put her fingers to her cunt, looked at them, again began crying, and leaned her head against the bed, all in a drowsy, tipsy manner. Whilst so engaged, her sister knocked and I let her in; she looked at me in a funny way; I nodded; she went into the bedroom and closed the door, but I heard most of what was said.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"What are you sitting there for?" No reply. "What's that basin there for?" No reply. "You have been washing your grummit?" No reply. "What have you been washing it for?" "I was hot." "Why, you have been on the bed!" "No, I ain't." "You have, with he." "No, I ain't." "I know he have, and been atop a you, just as he were atop on me this morning." "No, he ain't" Then was a long crying fit. Sarah said, "What's the good of crying, you fool, no one ain't going to tell, I shan't, and the old man won't know." Then their voices dropped, they stood together, but I guessed she was asking what I had given her. Then I went in. "You have done it to my sister," said Sarah. 'No," said I. "Yes you have," and to Martha crying, 'Never mind, it's better to be done by a gent than by one of them mill-hands, I can't abear 'em; leave off, don' t be a fool." I went out of the room,</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Sarah followed me, and I gave her the two sovereigns. 'You know," she said, "some one would ha done it to her; one of them mill-hands, or Smith would, he's allus after her, and I knows he got his hands upon her."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Fred went up to London next day, and I was at the cottage soon after; the girls were there, the elder grinned, the younger looked queer, and would not go to the bedroom. "Don't be a fool," said the elder, and soon we were alone together there. Half force, half entreaty got her on to the bed, I pulled up her clothes, forced open her legs, and lay for a minute with my belly to hers in all the pleasure of anticipation, then rose on my knees for a close look. My yesterday's letch seized me, I put my mouth to her cunt and licked it, than put my prick up the tight little slit and finished my enjoyment.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Afterwards when I had her she was neat and clean, underneath, although with her every day's clothes on. She was frightened to put on her Sunday clothes. She was a nice plump round girl, with a large bum for her size, with pretty young breasts and a fat-lipped little slit; the lining of it, instead of being a full red like Charlotte's and Sarah's cunts, was of a delicate pink. I suppose it was that which attracted me. Certain it is that I had never licked a runt before, never had heard of such a thing, though "lick my arse" was a frequent and insulting invitation for boys to each other.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I saw her nearly every day for a week, and her modesty was soon broken. Sleeping in the same room with her father, accustomed to be in the fields or at a mill, such girls soon lose it; but she seemed indifferent to my embraces, and all the enjoyment was on my side. "I've not much pleasure in that," said she, "But more when you put your tongue there." I could not believe that was so in a young and healthy lass, but being always in a hurry to get my poking done lest her father came home, used to lick, put up her, spend quickly, and leave; but she soon got to rights. I licked so hard and long the next time I had her, at the side of the bed, that all at once I felt her cunt moving, her thighs closed, then relaxed, and she did not answer me. I looked up, she was laying with eyes closed and said, that what I had done was nicer than anything. I had gamahuched her till she spent.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>After that she spent like other women, when I had her. I tell this exactly as I recollect it, and can't attempt to explain. She worked at a paper mill; slack work was the reason of her being at home, now she was going back to work; I feared a mill hand would get her and offered to pay her what she earned; but if she did not go to the mill her father would make her work in the fields, and she dare not let him see she had money. Indeed the two sisters did not dare to buy the finery they wanted, because they could not say how they got the money. So back to the mill she went, it being arranged that she should stay away now and then, for me to have her. "Oh! won't she," said Sarah, "she takes to ruddling natoral, I can tell you." Sarah said she told her everything I had done to her, including the licking, and I felt quite ashamed of Sarah knowing-that I was so green, as I shall tell presently.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Fred returned, and I had difficulty in getting her often. My cousins walked out in the cool of the evening, I with them; often we passed the cottage, and I made signs if I saw the girls. I some times then had her upright in a small shed or by a hay-stack in the dark, where the hay pricked my knuckles. Fred was soon to join his regiment, was always borrowing money off me "for a shove," and never repaid me; but he was a liberal, good-hearted fellow; and when in after life I was without money and be kept a woman, he said, 'You get a shove out of meaning his woman, "she likes you, and I shan't mind, but don't tell me." I actually did fuck her, nor did he ever ask me, but that tale will be told hereafter. Nothing till his death pleased him more than referring to our having looked at the backside of his mother and at his sisters' quims, he would roar with laughter at it. He was an extraordinary man.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One day we rode to the market-town, and, putting up our horses, strolled about. Fred said, "Let's both go and have a shove." "Where are the girls?" said I. "Oh! I know, lend me some money.' "I only have ten shillings." "That is more than we shall want." We went down a lane past the Town Hall, by white-washed little cottages, at which girls were sitting or standing at the doors making a sort of lace. "Do you see a girl you like?" said he. "Why, they are lace-makers." "Yes, but some of them fuck for all that; there is the one I had with the last half-a-crown you lent me." Two girls were standing, together; they nodded. "Let's try them," said Fred. We went into the cottage; it was a new experience to me. He took one girl, leaving me the other; I felt so nervous; she laughed as Fred (who had never in his life a spark of modesty) put his hands up her companion's clothes. That girl asked what he was going to give her, and it was settled at half-a-crown each. Fred then went into the back-room with his woman. I never had had a gay woman. A fear of disease came over me. She made no advances, and at length, feeling my quietness was ridiculous, I got my hands up her clothes, pulling them up and looking at her legs. "Lord! I am quite clean, sir," said she in a huff, lifting her clothes well up. That gave me courage, I got her on to an old couch and looked at her cunt, but my prick refused to stand; her being gay upset me. She laid hold of my prick, but it was of no use. "What is the matter with you?" said she, "don't you like me?" "Yes, I do." "Have you ever had a girl?" I said I had. Fred who had finished, bawled out, "Can't we come in?" This upset me still more, and I gave it up. In Fred and his girl came, and he said, "There is water in the other room." I went in and feigned. to wash myself, and hearing them all laughing, felt ashamed to come out, thinking they were laughing about me; though such was not the case, it was because Fred was beginning to pull about my woman.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had more money than I had told Fred, and when he said he was thirsty, offered to send for drink, thinking my liberality would make amends for my impotence. Gin and ale was got; then I began to feel as if I could do it. "She's got a coal-black runt," said Fred, and I seemed to fancy his woman; then he said to mine, "What colour is yours?" and began to lift her clothes; "let's change and have them together," and we went at once into the back room, whither the two girls had gone. One was piddling, Fred pulled her up from the pot, shoved her against the side of the bed, bawling out, "You get the other," and pulled out his prick stiff and ready. An electric thrill seemed to go through me at this sight, I pulled the other into the same position by the side of Fred's; then the girls objected, but Fred hoisted up his girl and plunged his prick into her. Mine got on to the bed, leaving me to pull up her clothes. The same fear came over me, and I hesitated; Fred looked and laughed, I pulled up her clothes, saw her cunt; fear vanished, the next moment I was into her, and Fred and I, side by side, were fucking.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>All four were fucking away like a mill, then we paused and looked at our pricks, as they alternately were hidden and came into sight from the cunts. Fred put out his hand to my prick, I felt his, but I was coming; my girl said. "Don't hurry." It was too late, I spent, laid my head upon her bosom, and opening my eyes, saw Fred in the short shoves. The next instant he lay his head down. I believe now that really all four felt ashamed, for directly after we were all so quiet, one of the girls remarked, "Blest if I ever heard of such a thing afore, you Lunnon chaps are a bad lot." A long time afterwards, I again had the girl for two and sixpence; Fred was then in Canada; she recollected me well, and asked me whether gals and chaps usually did such things together in London. Fred and I used to examine our pricks for a few days after, to see if there were any pimples on them. Fred soon forgot his fear and shame and offered to bet me the fee of the gals that he would finish first, if we went and repeated the affair, but we did not.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Martha became very curious about me and my doings with Sarah. New to fucking as she was, she got jealous at the idea of anyone sharing my cock with her. She was curious too to know about her sister's pleasures; the elder had, I think, got all she wanted to know from the younger, and had made but little return for it in information.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then my amatory knowledge was increased by an event unlooked for, unthought of, unpremeditated; I am quite sure I had neither heard nor read of such a thing before, and should, at that period of my life, have scouted the idea as beastly and abominable, though I had done it. How I came to lick Martha's cunt even then astonished me, I thought that it was the small size, the slight hair, and youthfulness of the article; but I used to lick it very daintily, wiping my mouth, spitting frequently, and never venturing beyond the clitoris. It occurred to me one day instead of kneeling, to lay down and lick; so I laid on the bed, my head between her thighs, my cock not far from her mouth, and indulging her in the for it was much the idea of pleasing her which made me do it. She played with my cock and wriggled as my tongue played over her clitoris, then grasped my prick hard, which gave me a premonitory throb of pleasure. "Do to me what I am doing to you,' said I, "put it in your mouth," scarcely knowing what I said and without any ulterior intention. She with her pleasure getting intense, impelled by curiosity, or by the fascination of the cock, or by impulse, the result of my tongue on her cunt, took it in her mouth instantly. How far my prick went in, whether she sucked, licked, or simply let it enter, I know not, and I expect she did not either; but as she spent I felt a sensation resembling the soft friction of a cunt, and instantly shot my sperm into her mouth and over her face. Up she got, calling me a beast. I was surprised and ashamed of this unlooked for termination, and said so to her. I had as said arranged signs, as I passed the cottage, about our meetings, yet had difficulty now in getting at her without being found out, and never should, excepting for the elder sister, to whom I gave every now and then money. She took care of the house, rarely went out, but worked at a coarse sort of lace and earned money that way. She used to sit outside the cottage door if fine, working, and curtseying when we, who were called the Hall folks, passed. My aunt said one day, "What a strapping wench that is, don't you think so, Walt? you always look at her as you pass." I might have replied, "Yes, she is, and her arse is remarkably like yours," but I did not and was after that more on my guard. Fred had not had the girl for a long time, that freed me a little. Then Martha shammed ill two days to stay from the will and let me have her, and I spent a good many hours with her. As I turned my head quickly one day, I thought I saw the bedroom door close, and it occurred to me, that the elder had been watching; she looked lecherously at me as I came out.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I went one day soon after and found Sarah alone. She made some excuse about her sister being obliged to go to work. I was going away angry, when she asked me to look at her new boots and stockings. Amused at her vanity I looked, and she put them on. "Them fits fine," said she, showing her legs amply. I was not excited about it, and was going. "Ain't you never going to ha me again" said she. "I've no money." ""We are old friends, never mind money, if I hadn't got you Martha we moight ha been good friends still, ar wish a hadn't." "You did it to save us," said I. "Ah, but yer shouldn't leave old friends, and I ha watched and made yer both comfortable." Well, thought I, this is an invitation to fucking, she had a wonderful clip in her cunt, and I began to rise. "You have lots of friends," said I. "I take my oath, that no friend has seen me since the day you got my sister; ain't I been allus on watch for yer? did yer ever pass without seeing me?"</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>A woman who wants fucking is not easy to resist, even if she is ugly and middle-aged. There she sat, the picture of health, her petticoats nearly up to her knees; I had never before seen them excepting in coarse blue woollen stockings. I rolled her clothes up, saw the big thighs, the next instant had my fingers in the slit; up knocked my doodle. She shut the shutter, locked the door, and with a pleased look got on to the bed. Her cunt struck me as quite a novelty, and I got ready for insertion. "You like her better than me," said she. It was a poser, but a man always likes the woman he is going to poke better than any other, and so I denied it. "Why don't you do to me what you do to she then? " What is that?" "You knows." "No." "Yes you do." "I feel it like this." "More than that." "What?" "You know." "I don't, tell me." There was a pause. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>It came into my head that she knew I had licked Martha's quim, and it had such an effect on me, that down went my doodle, and I was almost ashamed to look at her; for, as said, until I licked Martha I had never done such an act, and did it with a sort of belief that I was a great beast, and should have said so of any man who did anything of the sort. Indeed after spending in her mouth, I had felt so very much disgusted with myself that I left off the licking altogether and had made the girl promise she would never tell her sister, nor refer to the matter again. So I was silent, standing with one hand on her belly just above her split, and in an uncomfortable state of mind.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She broke the silence. "Do it as you do it to she." "I don't know what you mean," I again stammered. "Yes yer do now." "What has Martha told your "Nothing, but I knows." And finding I was about to get on the bed, "Naw, naw, kiss it." So I put my mouth down on to the hair and gave a loud kiss. "Naw," said she, do it as you do it to she, I am a finer woman than she by long chalks; what is't yer sees to take to her so? you knows you tickles hers with yer tongue." The murder was out. I wanted to mount her, she baulked me, and kept repeating in a jocular, playful manner her request. So I got her to the side of the bed, her large thighs wide open, and legs hanging down in a favorable position, intending to please her; she gave her cunt a dry rub with her chemise.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I began with dislike, but there was something in the novelty which warmed me. What a difference between her and her sister. I could lick the younger one's all but hairless orifice with comfort and she always laid quiet; but I had to pull open this one's sausage lips and hold back the dark thick fringe, which got into my eyes and tickled my nose. No sooner had my tongue touched her clitoris, than the lips closed round my mouth, and, as my saliva worked up on to the cunt-hair by her movement, it wetted my nose and face, she heaved and bounced her arse so much. Then her thighs closed round my head tightly enough to squeeze it off, she buried her hands in the hair of my bead, and up went cunt again, bringing my nose into the hole, then with a jerk she got her cunt away from me. I was not at all sorry to desist.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Oh! do it natural, do it natural," said she, and her thighs opened and hung down, showing a slobbered cunt. I went into her, just as she lay at the side of the bed, and in a minute her cunt was wetter than ever. I have no doubt that the wench spent almost directly I licked; but I did not know it. When I asked her if she liked it, site said, "The old fashioned way be the best, but I have done the same as she." I questioned her, but never knew whether her sister had told her or not, or whether she had peeped and seen us together at it. I made her promise she would never tell her sister what I had done. She hoped I would see her again, but having promised Martha that I would not have Sarah again, told her so. She said she was tired of watching for us. The sisters were often quarrelling, and I believe out of jealousy about me, yet I fucked her again.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I may mention the risks I ran, that I was once with Martha on the bed when I heard my cousin's voice asking Sarah, who was at the door, if she had seen me pass.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I could not get the younger readily enough, had been long from home, and was about returning. I had spent all my money, and told Sarah one day after I had poked her that I was going away. Her sister was then at the mill. Said she, "What will Martha do?" I supposed she would get another sweetheart. She shook her bead, "Martha be poisoned." "What?" "Don't be afraid," said she, "she be in the family way, we call it poisoned in these parts, when a girl ben't married." It was true. The girl had only menstruated once or twice before I first had her, and now her courses had stopped. There was no attempt at making a market of me, all needed was to get her right again. The elder took Martha to a fortune-teller, and she got better of her difficulty. I borrowed money of my aunt and, giving Martha all I could, went back to London. She left the neighbourhood.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I saw Martha two years afterwards, when visiting again my aunt; she was in household service, and was out for the day. I waylaid her, hoping to have her again; we kissed and fondled, and with difficulty I felt her quim but could not accomplish my wishes; she was going to be married, and soon after I heard that she was. Sarah also was going to be married to a farm labourer, and when I joked her about his finding her out, she laughed and said, "Lord, he war my first sweetheart," from which I inferred that cousin Fred was mistaken about taking her virginity.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My first curt-licking and cock-sucking took place with Martha; I had never before played such amatory pranks, and all came about by instinct. For a long time I was ashamed of myself and never breathed a word on such subjects to anyone; I don't think I should have done so even to Fred, but he was then away. Gradually I was learning by instinct the whole art of love. What made me offer money to get Martha I can't say, I don't think that I bad ever heard of tempting women's virtue by money, but I never forgot the lesson, and much improved on it as time went on.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I now had had four women. The difficulties in the way of getting at them were very useful in preventing excesses, and kept me in health. It seems surprising to me now how little I seemed to have thought of baudy attitudes, and lascivious varieties; for belly-to-belly poking on the bed was nearly all I did. I had still the modest, demure demeanour which deceived my mother (coupled with her ignorance of life generally) and relations, and, though very proud of my achievements, kept them much to myself, never disclosing the names of my women, and only telling one or two intimate friends of what I had done; who reciprocated by telling me their achievements. Fucking had eased my prepuce. I made a practice of pulling it backward and forward several times a day; in fact, whenever I piddled. My prick had grown bigger in the two years, which pleased me much, but about the size of it I had a curious doubt, which will be told of further on.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was, though demure, quite a man in manner and look, and with women behaved in a way which one or two of my relatives remarked. I used to think to myself when talking to them, "Ah! I know what sort of opening you have at the bottom of your belly. The cousins, whose cunts I had had a partial glimpse of, I used to like to dance with, wondering how much the hair had grown on them. I used also to think about my sister's cunt that I had seen when in the cradle, but just then she died. My experiences indeed much increased the charm of female society to me. Chance had given me two virgins out of four women; that was a luxury unthought of, uncared for, and in no way appreciated; the virgins were no more liked by me than the others.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Cousin Fred will appear at less frequent intervals; he was away sometimes for months, then for years, but he named whenever he played an important part in my adventures, he was participator in others which will never be written about here</I></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 7. </I><I>Charwoman and daughter • At a key-hole • Cutting corns • A shower and a barn • A fat rumped Devonian • Suggestive pictures • A bum-hole offered • Erotic madness • Remorse.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>We could not get servants for some time. A middle-aged charwoman came to assist, and one of her daughters came from time to time, stopping generally the night. Their cottage was not far off, I had seen the girl from an infant, she was then about eighteen years old. I had often smiled when I met her, of course I smiled now. She was quite a slim little girl, there was nothing of her, but I was at an age when anything having a cunt attracted me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Profiting by experience, I now used key-holes; fortune favoured me, for, for some reason, instead of one large bed, two small ones were put into the servants' rooms; between them a wash-stand and a chair on each side of it were nearly opposite the key-hole. How I chuckled at this, for unless the key-hole was covered, I could see nearly all one bed and both chairs and wash-stand. I saw the old woman wash and use the pot, put on her stockings and other things; the other bed was a little out of range. I could not so often see the girl, but did at times.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One evening the girl only stopped. So soon as I heard mother's door closed, out I went in my night-shirt, and through the key-hole saw the girl naked. She put the light on the floor, one leg on the chair, and with a small hand-glass looked at her quim, her bum was towards me. Not satisfied she turned round, sat down facing me, putting the candle on the floor and with legs as wide open as she could went on with her investigation. I had a reasonably good look at her, and her cunt. As said, she, was nothing to look at, but I got in a fearfully excited state and made some noise at the door which alarmed her, for up she got and stood still listening. I went to my room, looking through the half-closed door, hers opened and out came her head. I nodded and back she went.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The next day she was going home, and as I now (although having rows with mother about it) went out when I liked, just before she left I went out and walked. It was dark. In two or three minutes out she came. After walking by her side for a time I asked her point blank how she liked the look of it last night. "What do you mean?" I told her all I had done. "Oh!" she said with intense surprise, "what a mean thing to do." I told her how one of our former servants used to look at me naked. After a minute she did not appear to be at all disconcerted at having been seen naked; from my description she could have had no doubt whatever that I had seen all, "What did you look at your quim for?" asked I. "All that's my business; what did you look at me for?" "To see your cunt" Being at a dark part of the road I began kissing her, and got my fingers on to her belly. She made no row, but crossed her legs; and small and seemingly weak as she was, succeeded in preventing me feeling. I was out with her an hour, kissing, coaxing, attempting; I got my fingers and hand over her bum and belly, but not on to her slit. At each failure she laughed and said, "Done again." I swore I would some day. "No you won't, you're not the first that has tried," said she, and I went home without having felt her quiet properly.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I attempted it the next day and at every opportunity in the house and out of it, till new servants came. She felt my prick, would look at it, squeeze the balls, talk about fucking and baudiness to any extent, tell me what she had seen and what she had heard about such matters. She at length scarcely resisted my feeling her bum, belly, and legs, yet I never got my finger on to her slit, so as to feel the moisture; for she closed her little legs and wriggled, or got away from me somehow. Once or twice when I got a little rough, she set up a squeal, and I desisted. I offered her money. She replied, "No thank you, I am not going to spoil my chance that way." Our conversation used to begin by my saying, "How is your duff?" "Oh! nicely, thank you; how is your jock?" "All right, and stiff, waiting for your duff." "Then it will wait a long time," and so on. It always ending in my trying to feel her, and getting no further. At length they left, new servants coming.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I frequently saw her afterwards, and always began the same game. My mother was told I had been seen talking to her, so after that I only spoke to her at dusk. Some time afterwards she married a gardener, and I occasionally saw her, but recognition came to a knowing nod and smile, which she always returned. Meanwhile I had got my fortune, as I shall tell, had no end of women, and had forgotten her when, walking across a field not far from our house, I overtook a short woman with a little child, and it was she. A shower came on, and we went into a barn, no one was in it. She told me I was said to be a "dreadful chap after the gals." 'You know all about that now," said I. "Yes," she replied with a grin, and gradually talking baudier, we went on, until in a few minutes I had laid her down and fucked her on the hay. "I told you I would do it," said I. " But you didn't when you said you would, now it won't matter." That was her notion. The rain continuing, she said she must go, whether wet or dry. Neither of us had an umbrella. She pulled her gown over her head, and saying, "You won't tell anyone, will you?" took the child by the hand and was going, when my appetite came again. I pulled her back, and with little persuasion, again went up her. She enjoyed the fuck greatly. As I lay on the top of her we heard a bang, and the barn grew dark; a man was shutting the door. "UllOh!" said he, "I didn't know any one was there; I hope I ain't disturbed you. We made no reply, but out we went "You will have a boy out of this," said I. "I hope I shall," said she. That was the end of my adventure, for I never had her again, and she soon left the neighborhood. It was her own little child that was with her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Though I have (as I shall in other cases) told all I had to do with her consecutively, yet between the time when she was in our house and the time of meeting her at the barn, three or four years must have elapsed; and didn't we talk baudy in the barn before I got into her. That may have warmed her up, yet I believe she wanted me, as soon as she found herself alone with me. Her little child witnessed the business.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Just at this time or a little later, an adventure of a serious kind occurred to me. The streets leading out of the Waterloo Road were then occupied much by gay women. Some were absolutely full of them; they were mostly of a class to be had for a few shillings If they could not get more, but many a swell I have noticed lingering about there. My mother now took nearly all my money for my board, but with the little remaining I had a knock off occasionally. It was one of my pleasures to walk up these streets when dark and talk with the women at the windows, which were always open whatever the weather, unless some one was within engaged with the ladies.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Each woman had generally but one room, but two or three used to sit together in the front room in their chemises. There was the bed, wash-stand, chamber-pot and all complete, Perhaps one lolled out of the window, showing her breasts, and if you gave such a one a shilling, she would stoop so that you could see right down past her belly to her knees, and have a glimpse of her cunt-fringe. Sometimes one would pull up her garter, or another sit down and piddle, or pretend to do so, or have recourse to other exciting devices when men peeped in.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I used to look in and long. Sometimes had a shilling peep and then bashfully asked for a feel of the cunt for it. I so often succeeded that, ever since when I wanted that amusement, have offered a shilling for a feel and met with but few refusals in any part of London, Sometimes it ended in a fuck. Once or twice to my astonishment they took mere trifles, and, as I think of it, there is wonderfully little difference between the woman you have for five shillings, and the one you pay five pounds, excepting in the silk, linen, and manners.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One night I saw a woman with very fat breasts looking out of the window (I was, then fond of stout women); and, after talking a minute, asked her if she would let me feel her cunt for a shilling. "Yes," said she. In I went, down she shut the window, and in another minute I was groping her. She did not let me feel her long. I had not felt such a bum since Mary's (already told of), and it so wetted my appetite that I struck a bargain for a fuck. She was soon stripped, and all I now recollect about her is that her cunt was large and covered with hair of a brownish colour; that her eyes were dark; and that she seemed full twenty-five years of age. I fucked her on a sofa.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>When I had buttoned up, she produced a book full of baudy pictures, of which I then had seen but few; and I went a second time, to see the book rather than her. Looking over it, she pointed out to me, with a laugh, several pictures of men putting their pricks into women's arse-holes, and into the rumps of other men. Having never before seen such pictures, and having no idea of the operation, I felt modest and turned to others; but she so regularly, as we turned over the leaves, pointed out this class that my sense of shame gave way to curiosity; and, not believing, asked if it was possible to do it so. "Lord yes," said she.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Does it not hurt?" said I. "Not if properly done,' she replied, and went on to say it was delicious, some men thought; and she talked altogether in a very knowing way about it; told me how it was best to grease the hole first, then the prick, and to shove gently, and went on so that I said on a sudden, "Why, you have done it, i think." "Yes, but only with a particular friend of mine who is very fond of it, and so am I; it is better than the other."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I felt shocked, bewildered, and excited. The subject dropped, but she sat feeling me, slipping her finger under my balls, and pressing my arse-hole with her finger. I prepared to fuck. She suggested she should kneel with her buttocks towards me, so that she could feel my balls when my prick was up her. I assented, and her bumcheeks were presented to me. Excited by her conversation and her hints, I looked curiously at her large slit, and then at her bum-hole; I touched the latter, and she drove her bum back upon my finger with a laugh. I did not take her hint, but drove my prick into her quim and pushed in the regular fashion. Thinking of the pictures excited me, and without knowing what I said, I suddenly pulled it out, saying, "Let me put it into the other." "Not tonight," said she, "put your thumb a little way in, your nail is quite short (she had noticed that I used to bite my thumb-nails short)." I instantly did, the next moment spent, and dropped over her back, waiting for the last drop of sperm to rim off into her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Her hints, her pictures, of which she had actually scores, stirred my curiosity; her manner disgusted .no, yet my brain seemed affected. Is it possible, thought I, that a man's prick can go in there? - Impossible. And yet she says she has had it done to her, and my thumb went in easily enough. The more I thought and the more I reflected how a hard turd hurt me sometimes in passing it, the more I was puzzled about the intense pleasure which she said the operation gave. To solve my doubts (although I had determined not), I went to her again, and saw the pictures. She again talked about them, until, scarcely knowing what I was doing, '"Will you let me?" I asked. "Yes, if you do what I tell you." I consented. "Don't talk loud," said she, "it will never do to let any one know what we are at." Our voices dropped to a whisper, whilst by her advice I pulled off trousers and drawers, and she stripped stark naked.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then she carefully greased my prick with pomatum, and put some on her arse-hole; it was the work of a minute, not a word was said. She then, stark naked, sat by the side of me on the sofa, began fondling and kissing me, took my hands in hers and rubbed my fingers on her clitoris, half frigged herself with my fingers, I let her do what she liked Then she turned round. "Put it in," she said when her rump was towards me, "then give me your hand, and don't push till I tell you." Her arse-hole was at the level of my prick as I stood by the side of the sofa, my machine was like a rod of iron, my brains seemed on fire, I felt I was going to do something wrong, dreaded it, yet determined to do it. "Put it in, slowly," said she in a whisper. The hole opened, felt tight, but to my astonishment almost directly my whole prick was hidden in it without pain to me or any difficulty. "Give me your hand." I did. Again she began frigging herself with my fingers. "Rub, rub, push gently," she said, and I tried, but was getting past myself. "Now," said she with a spasmodic sort of half cry, half grunt. I felt my prick squeezed as in a vise, I shoved or rather scarcely began to do so when I discharged a week's reserve up her rectum. My brain whirled with excitement, whilst she, leaning over the pillows on the sofa, kept breathing hard and half snorting like a pig, still frigging herself with my fingers.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>As my senses returned, I could scarcely believe where my prick was; excitement still kept it stiff, but desire had left me. I pulled it out with an indescribable horror of myself.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Wasn't it delicious?" said she. "I like it, don't you? you may always do it so." What I replied I know not; I washed, dressed and got out of the house as soon as I could. When in the street, I was sick. I ran off, fearing some one would see me, got into a Hackney coach and drove in the wrong direction; then got out and went a round-about way home, fearing some one was following to upbraid or expose me. I scarcely slept that night for horror of myself, never went up the street again for years, and never passed its end without shuddering, have no recollection of having had pleasure, or of any sensation whatever; all was dread to me. And so ended that debauch; one I was deliberately led into by that woman, having never thought of such doings before as possible, or at all, as far as I can recollect.</I></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 8. </I><I>Preliminary • My taste for beauty of form • Sarah Mavis • Midday in the Quadrant • No. 13 J***.s Street • A bargain in the hall • A woman with a will • Fears about my size • Muck • Cold-blooded • Tyranny • My temper • Submission • A revolt • A half-gay lady • Sarah watches me • A quarrel • Reconciliation.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had early a taste for beauty of female form. Face had for me of course the usual attraction, for beauty of expression always speaks to the soul of a man first. A woman's eyes speak to him before she opens her mouth, and instinctively (for actual knowledge only comes to him in his maturer years) he reads in them liking, dislike, indifference, voluptuousness, desire, sensuous abandonment, or fierce reckless lust.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>All these feelings can be seen in a woman's eyes alone, for they express and move with every feeling, every passion, pure or sensual. They can beget in the male pure love as it is called; which is be lieved to be so till experience teaches that however pure it may be, it cannot exist without the occasional help of a burning, throbbing, stiff prick, up a hot, wide-stretched cunt, and a simultaneous discharge of spermatic juices from both organs. The rest of a woman's body, the breasts and limbs, can move lust unaccompanied by love, and if once admiration of them begins, lust follows instantly. A small foot, a round, plump leg and thigh, and a fat backside speak to the prick straight. Form is in fact to most more enticing, and creates a more enduring attachment in men of mature years, than the sweetest face. A plain woman with fine limbs and burn, and firm, full breasts will (unless her cunt be an ugly gash) draw a man to her where the prettiest-faced miss will fail Few men, unless their bellies be very big, or they be very old, will keep long to a bony lady whose skinny buttocks can be held in one hand. I early had a taste for female form, it was born with me. Even when a boy I selected partners for dancing because they were what I called crummy, and admired even at one time a fat-arsed middle-aged woman who sold us bull's eyes, because I had caught her exhibiting her large legs when squatting down to piss.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>For years I had had at the period named, two friends, one of wham was a sculptor, who drank himself to death; and one a painter still living as I write this. I had been in their studios, seen their naked models, heard their opinions on both rule and female beauty, and had the various points of female perftction shown me on the lady-sitters. I had them explained in two instances by the ladies themselves, in private sittings, and with them I had sexual pleasures which they said the artists had neither got out of them nor given them. I had myself sketched from the nude, and was thought a not bad hand at it, and had therefore by training, instinct, and a most voluptuous temperament become a good judge of the beauty of female form.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>[I did not write the above paragraphs, when I wrote what follows about Sarah Mavis. They are added now many years afterwards, when I am wondering at what I did in those early days, marvelling at my judgment in selection, and seeking the reasons which guided me then in getting for my sexual embraces as many models of female beauty of form as perhaps any one Englishman ever had, - short of a prince.]</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One summer's morning about midday, I was in the Quadrant. It had been raining, and the streets were dirty. In front of me I saw a well-grown woman walking with that steady, solid, well balanced step which I even then knew indicated fleshy limbs and a fat backside. She was holding her petticoats well up out of the dirt, the common habit of even respectable women then. With gay ladies the habit was to hold them up just a little higher. I saw a pair of feet in lovely boots which seemed perfection, and calves which were exquisite. I fired directly. Just by Beak Street she stopped, and looked into a shop. "Is she gay?" I thought. "No." I followed on, passed her, then turned round, and met her eye. She looked at me, but the look was so steady, indifferent, and with so little of the gay woman in her expression, that I could not make up my mind as to whether she was accessible or not.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She turned back and went on without looking round. Crossing Tichborne Street she raised her petticoats higher, it was very muddy there. I then saw more of both legs, my prick stood at the sight of her limbs, and settled me. I followed quickly, saying as I came close, "Will you come with me?" She made no reply, and I fell behind. Soon she stopped again at a shop, and looked in, and again I said, "May I go with you?" "Yes, - where to?" "Where you like, - I will follow you." Without replying a word, and without looking at me, without hurrying, she walked steadily on till she entered the house No. 13 J"'s Street, which I entered that day for the first time, but many hundreds of times since. Her composure, and the way she stopped from time to time to look at the shops as she went along astonished me: she seemed in no hurry, nor indeed conscious that I was close at her heels, though she knew it.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Inside the house she stopped at the foot of the staircase, and turning round, said in a low tone, "What are you going to give me?" 'Ten shillings." "I won't go upstairs then, so tell you at once." "What do you want?" "I won't let any one come with me unless they give me a sovereign at least." "I will give you that." Then she mounted, nothing more being said. Asking me the question at the foot of the stairs astonished me, I had been asked it in a room often before, and in the street; but at the foot of a staircase, never.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>We entered a handsome bedroom. Turning round after paying for it, and locking the door, I saw her standing with her back to the light (the curtains were down, but the room was nevertheless light), one arm resting on the mantelpiece. She looked at me fixedly, and I did at her. Then I recollect noticing that her mouth was slightly open, and that she looked seemingly vacantly at me (it always was so), that she had a black silk dress on, and a dark colored bonnet. Then desire impelled; I went close to her, and began to lift her clothes. She pushed them down in a commanding way saying, "Now none of that."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Oh! here is your money," said I putting down a sovereign on the mantelpiece. She broke into a quiet laugh. "I did not mean that," she remarked. "Let me feel you." "Get away," said she im patiently, and turning she took off ber bonnet. I then saw she had thick and nearly if not quite black hair, and recollect that I noticed these points just in the order I have narrated them. Then she leaned her arm on the mantel-piece again, and looked at me quietly, her mouth slightly open, and I stood looking at her without speaking, my sperm fermenting in my balls; but I was slightly bothered, almost intimidated by her cool manner, a manner so unlike what I usually met with in strumpets.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"You have beautiful leg:." "So they say." "Let me see them." She laid down on the sofa, her back to the light, without uttering a word. I threw off coat and waistcoat, and sitting at the foot of the soft threw up her dress to her knees; higher I tried, but she resisted. Then my fingers felt her cunt, and the delight at the feel and sight of her beautiful limbs overwhelmed me. "Take off your things, let me see you undressed, you must be exquisite." My hands roved all about her bum, belly and thighs, and just seeing the flesh above her garters, I fell to kissing it, and kissed upwards till the aroma of her cunt met my nostrils, and its thicket met my lips and mingled with my moustache, which I then wore, though so few men then did. I fell on my knees by the side of her, kissing, feeling, and smelling; but she kept her thighs close together, and pushed her petticoats over my head whilst I kissed, so that I saw but little of her beauties. Then excited almost to madness by my amusement I rose up. "Oh! come to the bed, come." She lay quite still. "No, - do it here, -leave me alone, - I won't have my clothes pulled up, - I won't be pulled about, - if you want it have me, and have done." "Well get on to the bed." "I shan't." "I cunt do it on the sofa." "Well I'm going then." "You shan't till I have had you, - only let me see your thighs. " 'There then," and up went her clothes half-way. "Higher." "I shan't." Now my prick was out. "Get on the bed, - I won't do it here, - take your things off." "I shan't." "You shall." All was said by her in a determined way, but without signs of temper.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She rose without saying another word. I think I see now as I write her exquisite legs in beautiful silk stockings as they showed when getting off the sofa, and getting on to the bed. "But I want your clothes off." "I won't take them off, I'm in a hurry, I never do." "Oh! you must." "I won't, now come and do what you want to do,-I'm in a hurry." She lifted her clothes just high enough to show the fringe of her cunt, and opened her thighs a little. I thrilled with lewd delight as I saw them, and mounted her, laid between them, and inserted my prick. And at my first shove almost I was spending in her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Oh! lay quiet dear, I've only been up you a second." "No, get off, and let me wash." I resisted, but she uncunted me, and got off the bed quickly. "Now don't come near while I wash, - I can't bear a man looking at me washing myself." I insisted, for I was longing to see the form I had scarcely yet had a glimpse of. Putting down the basin, she pulled the bed-curtains round her to hide her whilst she slopped her quim. I would not be rude, and saw nothing. Then on went her bonnet. "Are you going first, or I?" said she. "I shall wait as long as you will." "Then I will go first," and she was going away when I stopped her. "When will you again meet me?" "Oh! when out at all, I am up to one o'clock in Regent Street." "Where do you live?" "I shan't say, - good bye." "No, - wait, - come to me this afternoon." "I can't." "This evening." She hesitated. "I can't stay long if I do." "Well, an hour and a half." "Perhaps." "Will you take off your clothes then?" "No,-good bye, I am in a hurry. " "Meet me at seven o'clock to-night,-do." "No." "At eight then." "Well I will be here expecting you, but I shan't stop long." "Will you let me see your form up to your waist?" "Oh! I hate being looked at," and off she went, leaving me in the room.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I dined at my Club, and was in a fever of lust all day. "Will she come?" for she had only half promised. Half-an-hour before the time I was at the house, and had the same room again. It was handsome throughout, had a big four-post bed with handsome hangings (this was thirty years ago mind) on one side of the room, on another side by a partition was a wash-hand stand of marble, against the wall on the opposite side a large glass just at the level of the bed; at the foot of the bed a large sofa opposite to the fire; over the chimney-piece a big glass sloping forwards, so that those sitting or lying on the sofa could see themselves reflected in it; in the angle of the room by the windows a big cheval-glass which could be turned in any direction, two easy-chairs and a bidet, the hangings were of red damask, two large gas-burners were over the chimney-piece angles. It was the most compact, comfortable baudy house bedroom I have perhaps ever been in, although by no means a large room. They charged seven and six for its use, and twenty shillings for the night. Scores of times I have paid both fees.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I noticed all this, and that a couple could see their amatory amusements on the bed, on the sofa, or anyhow in fact, by aid of the cheval and other glasses. I was delighted with the room, but in a fever of anxiety lest the lady should not come. I walked aboutwith my prick out, seeing how I looked in the glasses, laid on the bed, and noticed how it looked in the side-glass, squatted on the sofa, glorying in the sight of my balls and stiff-stander. Then I had a sudden fear that she would think my prick small; what put it into my head I never could exactly say, I used when at school to fancy mine was smaller than that of other boys, and some remark of a gay woman about its size made me most sensitive on the topic. I was constantly asking the women if my prick was not smaller than other men's. When they said it was a very good size, as big as most, I did not believe them, and I used when I pulled it out to say in an apologetic tone, "Let's put it up, there's not much of it" "Oh! it's quite big enough," one would say. "I've seen plenty smaller," would say another. But still the idea clung to me that It was not a prick to be in any way proud of, which was a great error. But I have told of this weakness more than once before, I think.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I recollect well that night fearing she would think my prick contemptible, and it pained me much for I was hooked, although I did not know it. I brushed my hair, and made myself inviting with a desire to please her, without thinking that I was taking the trouble to do so for a woman who was going to be fucked for twenty shillings, and whom I now know did not then care how I looked, or who I was, long as she got her money as soon as she could, and got rid of me to make way for another man, or to go and spend what she had earned.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She did not keep her time. I kept listening, and peeping out as I heard footsteps and saw couples bent on sexual pleasure going up the stairs, and heard them overhead walking about. This and the excitement at the recollection of my instantaneous spend between her magnificent thighs, my pulling about my prick and contemplating it in the glass, the moving about of the various couples, made me in such a state of randiness that I could scarcely keep from frigging. A servant who had noticed my peeping, came in and begged I would not look out, for customers did not like it. Did they know where my lady lived? and would they send for her? They did not. Then the servant came to say I had been an hour in the room, did I mean to wait any longer? I knew what that meant, and was about to say I would pay for the room twice, when I heard a heavy, slow tread, and the lady's face appeared.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I grumbled at her delay, she took my complaints quietly, she could not come earlier, was all she said. She pulled off her bonnet, put it on the chair, turned round, leaned her arm on the mantel piece, and stared at me again in. a half-vacant way with her mouth slightly open, just as in the morning. I gave her very little time to stare, for I had my hand on her curt in no time, and nearly spent in my trowsers as I touched it. She tried the same game, she would not be pulled about, she would not let her cunt be looked at, if I meant to do it, do it, and have done with it. My blood rose. I'd be damned if I would, nor pay, nor anything else, unless she took her gown off. So she took it off laughing, and laid down on the sofa. No, on the bed. No she would not. Then damned if I would do it (though I was nearly bursting). Again she laughed, and then got on to the bed. I saw breasts of spotless purity and exquisite shape bursting out over the corset, threw up the petticoats, saw the dark hair at the bottom of the belly, and the next instant a thrust, a moment's heaving, quietness, another thrust, a sigh, a gush of sperm, and again I had finished with but a minute's complete sexual enjoyment only.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Get up." "I won't." "Let me wash the muck out" "No," and I pinned her down, squeezed to her belly, grasped her haunches. I've not done spending." "Yes, you have." A wriggle and a jerk, and I was uncunted and swearing. She sat down on the basin, I stooped down, tore aside the curtains, and put my hand on to her gaping cunt. She tried to rise, and pushed me, I pushed her. She tilted on one side her bum caught the edge of the basin, and upset the water. 'Damn you," said she, then she laughed and got up. I pushed her against the side of the bed, and again got my fingers on the cunt-slippery enough it was. "You're one of those beasts, are you?" said she. "I've never felt your cunt properly, and I will." "Well let me wash it, and you shall." She did so, I felt it, and then begged for another fuck. "You are not in a hurry." "Yes I am." "You said you would give me an hour and a half." "Yes, but you have done me, and what is the good of keeping me?" "I mean to do it again." "Double journey, double pay." "Nonsense, you so excited' me, that I've never had a proper poke yet." "Well that is no fault of mine." She laughed, and turned questioner. "Do you often have the women from Regent Street?" "Yes." "Do you know many?" "Yes, I vary so." Ah! you are fond of change, I thought so," and she got talkative after that. I had thought her almost a dummy.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Meanwhile I was gloating over her charms, her beautiful arms, the lovely breasts I now played with, the lovely limbs I saw, for she had sat down in the most enticing position with the ankle of one foot resting on the knee of the other leg. I wanted to pull the clothes higher up the thighs, she resisted, but I saw the beautiful ankles, the tiny boots and feet, the creamy flesh of the thigh just above the garter, thighs thickening, folding over, squeezing together, and hiding her cunt from view when I tried to look up.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had hid my prick, the fear had come over me of her thinking it small, and that prevented it standing again. An hour ran away. "I'm going," said she rising. My prick stood at the instant. 'Let me." "Make haste then." As she stood up I put my hand up her petticoats. She put her hand down, and gave my prick a hard squeeze. I hollored, she laughed. "I've a good mind not to let you, you've been so long, but you may do it." She got on to the bedside. "Oh! for God's sake don't move, that attitude is exquisite." One leg was well on the bed, the petticoats were squeezed up, and the leg on the ground from the boot-heel to about four inches above her garter was visible. She was half turning round, her lovely breasts, or rather one of them, showed half-front, and with her head looking round at me as she was moving, it altogether made a ravishingly luscious picture. I put my hands up from behind between her thighs. That broke the spell, she moved on to the bed directly, I on to her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Oh! God you are heavenly, lovely, oh! God my darling, Ah!" I was spending and kissing her too quickly again; lust almost deprived me of my pleasure, In a dozen shoves I was empty. It was all over. "How quietly you stood in that attitude," said I. "I can stand in an attitude nearly five minutes without moving, almost without showing that I am breathing, without winking an eve," I thought nothing of this at the time, excepting that it was brag.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Give me five shillings, for I have been a long time with you, I've a reason, I won't ask you again." I gave it her. "Shall you be in Regent Street to-morrow morning?" "Yes."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was in Regent Street, met her, and had her you may be sure, and repeated these meetings for a week daily, and sometimes twice a day; but got no more than the shortest time with her, the quickest fuck, a rapid uncunting. She did riot spend with me, find showed no signs of pleasure, scarcely took the trouble to move her bum, would not undress, would not let me look at her cunt. I submitted to it, for I was caught, but did not know that then, she did. That is, she knew that I was damnably lewd upon her, and used that knowledge to suit her convenience. I had no right to grumble at it, I need not have had her, had I not liked, upon those terms. But I did. At length I grumbled, and at last almost had a quarrel. "I won't see you again," said I. "No one asks you," said she.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>As my means were not large, and my purse grew rather empty, I was glad to keep away a few days. Then again I saw her in Regent Street; and after giving her the wink, followed her. She walked on, but instead of going to the house, passed the end of the street. On she went, I went close to her, it was the second time I had spoken to her in the street. "Oh! I did not understand you." she said, "besides I'm in a hurry." "Oh! do come." "Well, I can't stop five minutes." "Nonsense." "Well then I can't, and she went on walking. My prick got the better of my temper. "Well, come back." She turned round and bent her way to J' **s Street, saying, "Don't let us go in together.'</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>When in the house, she got on to the bed without a moment's delay. I had her, and she was out of the house again in less than ten minutes, leaving me in a very angry state of mind; but she promised to meet me the following night if she could, and to stay longer with me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She came an hour late, and found me fretting and fuming in the bedroom. They did not hurry me now at that house, I being already known there, and gave me whenever they could the same chamber. "I'm in a great hurry," were the first words Sarah said. "Why, you told me you would stop longer." "Yes, I am sorry, but I can't" 'You never can, but take off your gown." "I really can't, have me at the side of the bed, you wanted it so the other dayf "No I won't." "'Then I'll get on the bed:' and on she got. I tried to open her legs, to turn her round to see her bum (I had never seen it yet properly). No, she would not undress, she would do nothing, -I might have it her way, or leave it alone and go. How green I was to submit to all this.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I lost my temper, for my delight I see was in her lovely form, in her physical beauty; whilst she seemed to think that the only joy I could have was to spend in her cunt as fast as I could. "I won't have you at all," said I getting resolute at last. "All right," said she getting off the bed, "I'm really in a hurry, another night I will." Another night be damned, you are nearly a bilk, there," and I threw the sovereign on a table, and put on my hat. 'Are you going?" "Yes, I'm going to get some woman who is not ashamed of her cunt " "Go along then." </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Off I went. When half-way down the stairs I heard her calling to me to come back, but savage, I went off.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I walked up Regent Street savage with her, and with myself too, for not having had my fuck, even if she had gone away a minute afterwards. Randy as the devil, I saw a woman at the corner of the Queens, and accosted her, she turned away, I accosted her again. "Will you come with me?" "Yes, if you like." "Do you know a house about here?" "No, I'm a stranger." Then I took her to J***s Street, had her two or three times and toyed with her a long time, stopping till she would stop no longer, saying she should be locked out if she was not off. She was only half-gay I think, and wanted a fuck. I had just offered myself in time. She was a biggish woman of about thirty years of age. After I had fucked her the fast time, we laid on the bed together; she played with my prick till it was stiff again, and then turning on to her back said, "'Come on, let's have it again "</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I thought much of my fine-limbed Sarah Mavis, but it was with anger. A fuck for ten shillings was all very well when randy, but even when in a hurry I never was satisfied till I had pulled the cunt open, and given it a general inspection, although it was generally but a rapid one in those days. If I had the same woman again another day, it was because I liked her and liked to talk to her, for I always found them more complaisant the longer I knew them. But here had I been having a woman daily, and sometimes twice a day, mainly because sbe was so exquisite in form (for I had. some idea even then that her cunt was not a good fit to my prick); yet I had never seen her cunt, nor her backside, nor her hubbies, nor her arm-pits, nor her navel, nor anything properly, and so I determined not to have her again, and to dismiss her from my mind. But I was hooked.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>To economize I again went with cheap women, and seemed to get just as nice women for ten shillings as I did for twenty; but I had taken a liking for the house in J*"s Street, which was an expensive one, and liked the best room, and took my cheap women to my dear room. One woman said, "Well you might give me a little more, and have a cheaper room, the room gets nearly as much as you give me." And I saw a woman there one night pocket the comb, and a piece of soap, she stole them. I heard in pleasant conversation afterwards, that soap and combs were often stolen by the women, especially the soap.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>About a fortnight afterwards I saw my Venus again, and again was closeted with her. I could resist my desire for her no longer, having never ceased thinking of her even when fucking other women. She was just as calm, but there was a little, quiet spite about her. When she had taken off her bonnet, and looked at me for a minute with her mouth open as usual, she said, 'I suppose you have been having other women." I can't tell why it was, but I lied, and said, "No." "What did you go upstairs with one for?" said she, "the night after you left me, I was in the parlour, and peeping through the door saw you and the woman who stumbled at the foot of the stairs" (which was the fact). "Well I did," I replied, "and saw her cunt, and that's more than I ever saw of yours." "You've seen as much as you will." Putting on my hat in a rage, 'Then I may as well go, here is your money," and I turned towards the door. 'Don't be a fool," said she, "What do you want? what do all you men want? you are all beasts alike, you're never satisfied." She was angry. 'Don't be in a hurry, and let's see your precious cunt " I recollect saying that very distinctly, being angry, and that up to that time I had been chaste in my remarks. I was at that time of my life not at all lewd or strong in word with women when we first met, but was somewhat less so so soon as I warmed, and only when randy to the highest degree or by fits and starts, spiced my conversation highly with lewd expressions.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I> </I></div> <div> <I>Chapter 9.</I><I> Sarah's complaisance • Mistress Hannah • About Sarah • Sexual indifference • After dinner • Stark naked at last • Her form • The scar • Hannah's friendship • The baudy house parlour • The Guardsman • Sarah's greed • A change in her manner • A miscarriage • Going abroad • I am madly in love • Sarah's history.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She laughed. "Well I will, but don't make me undress, I'm in a hurry" "Of course, you always are." She laid on the sofa, and pulled up her clothes, she was yielding. "No, come here." She came, and laid on the side of the bed. At length I saw those glorious thighs open wider, the dark-shaded crack with the swelling lips showed itself more freely than I had ever seen it before.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I dropped on my knees, and propping up one of her feet with my hand; lifted the leg so that the thighs distended, and a large bit of crimson nymphae began to show, the faint but delicious odour of her cunt stole up my nostrils, my lips closed on her gap, and kissed it lecherously, my brain whirled as my nose rubbed in the thicket of dark hair, and my lip touched her clitoris. I know nothing more, excepting that I was up her as she laid there, and spending as quickly as ever, before I had in fact well plugged her. "Are you satisfied said she as she looked up from washing her cunt by the side of me. "No, it's so quick, you fetch me so quickly." "That is no fault of mine." She had said so often before. I recollect all these apparently trivial, these various feelings and circumstances as well as if it were yesterday, for she had made her mark on me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had partly, conquered, and saw my victory. "I like seeing you so," said I, "but won't see you, or any other woman who won't let me see her charms, and who is always in such a hurry, it would be all very well if I saw you for the first time ("Why you have a new black silk dress on." "Yes, I bought it with your money," said she), but for a regular friend as I am, it is unsupportable." I conquered more, and subsequently told her that I might be in Regent Street one day, but I did not go there (I had made no promise). She said she went out against her will to see me, could I write to say when she was to meet me? No, but I could write to the baudy house, and they would send on the letter. I called there one morning, and left a letter. The Mistress was a shortish sandy-haired woman about thirty years old, with a white face who looked very fixedly at me, and smiled. She would send on the letter to Miss Sarah Mavis which I found was the name she went by; but Sarah never came to my letter, and I paid for the room for nothing. Then I sent for the Mistress; had a bottle of champagne with her, and she opened her heart a little, she was soon a little screwed, and this was what she told me. Her name was Hannah.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She had not known Miss Mavis long, only a month or so before she had come in with me, did not often see her excepting with me. Mavis had been asking if I had been seen in the house with any other woman, "and of course I did not tell her," said Sandyhead. She thought her a rice Nogian, and had struck up acquaintance with her. Now she often came into the parlour to chat with her when I had left, or before she came upstairs to me, when I was at the house before my appointed time.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Things went on thus for a little time longer, Sarah doing march as she liked, but certainly becoming more complaisant. She stopped longer, we began to talk; I was of course curious about her, she about me. I dare say she got much out of me, I but little out of her. What I mainly learned was that she only carne on the streets occasionally, and from about eleven to one o'clock in the day, never afterwards; and when she had sufficient money to "go on with," as she said, she came not out at all. "I hate it," said she, "hate you men, - you are all beasts, - you're never satisfied unless you are pulling a woman about in all manner of ways." "It pleases us," said I, "we admire you so." "Well it does not please me, I want them to do what they have to do, and let me go." "why don't you go out in the afternoon or evening?" "No, I get my money in the morning, and have other things to do the rest of the day."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She had not been gay long, not more than a month before I had met her, was taken to the house in J***s Street by the first man who met her in the streets, and had been there often since. No, she never had been gay before she would swear, and often wished she were dead rather than have to come out and let men pull her about, and put their nasty muck into her, "nasty muck" was always the pleasant way in which she spoke of a mans sperm.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"One would think you never cared about a poke, I wonder how often you spend." "Oh! it's all the same to me whether I have it, or whether I don't, if I do it once a fortnight it's as much as I care about, you beasts of men seem to think of nothing else, and you leave us poor women *all the trouble that comes from putting your muck into us." "What the devil do you care about?" said I, after a chat with her one day in which she had just said what I have narrated. "Oh! I don't care about anything much."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Another day she said, "I like a nice dinner, and then a read in an arm-chair till I go to sleep, or a nice bit of supper, and to get into bed, I'm so tired of a night, I like to get to bed early if I can." We went on talking about eating and drinking; she told me what she liked and what she disliked with much gusto and earnestness. "171 give you a good dinner," said I, "and we will come here afterwards." "Will you?" "Yes, - but I wont unless I have you three hours here." "Impossible, - I dare not be out after half-past ten. "Come early." "I can't come very early, for I must be home in the afternoon." There were all sorts of obstacles, - so many that I gave it up, not going to be humbugged. But she would not give it up, and it was arranged that if she might name the evening, she would be with me at six o'clock, and stay with me till ten, an immense concession, it was the dinner that did it. I saw she was fond of her stomach, and that made me offer the dinner as a bait.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She would not come in after me to the restaurant, I was to meet her at the corner of St. Martin's Lane in a cab, and go with her, and so it came off. We went to the Cafe de P**v* "#'tin Leicester Square, I had already ordered a private room, and a nice dinner. My Cod how she enjoyed id "It's a long time since I've had such a good dinner," said she, "but never mind, better times are coming again for me, I feel sure." She ate largely, she drank well, and to my astonishment when I got up to kiss her, she kissed me in return, and gave my piereer the slightest possible pinch outside my trowsers. 'Let's feel you," said I. Equally astonished was I when she said, "Bolt the door, the waiter may be in," and then I had a grope, and she felt my prick. "Let's go, let's go, I am dying for you." Off we went arm in arm. Directly we were well away from the Cafe sire let go my arm. "You go first, and I will follow." I thought she was going to cheat me. "I dare not be seen walking arm in arse wah a man, but I will follow." In five minutes we were in the room together. Sarah Mavis was just in the slightest degree elevated, and perhaps more than slightly lowed.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>To pull off my things, to help her off with hers partially, was the work of a minute. "I must piddle first,-champagne always makes me want to piddle so." "Does it make you randy?' "Oh! Lord it does sometimes; but it's such a time since I tasted it before tonight, I almost forget" "Are you so now?" "Oh! I don't know,-come on the bed," said she. She opened her thighs wide, she let me grope and smell, and kiss, and see. "Come on, do." Instinct told me she wanted it, I embraced her, and was enjoying her, when she clasped me firmly, sought my mouth. "Oh! my darling, I'm co -com-h-hing," said she, spending as she cried out, and fetched me at the same instant. It was the first time she had ever spent with me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>We laid in heavenly quietness, prick and curt in holy junction, distilling, slobbering, and bedewing each other's mouths and privates, whilst the soft voluptuous pleasure was creeping through our limbs, bodies, and senses. She was in no hurry to wash out the muck. "Oh! I'm choking," said she after a time, "get off." "I won't" "Oh! do, my stays choke me when I lie down after food, I'm almost suffocated." I held fast. "If I get off, you won't let me do it stain. Yes,-yes I will." She jerked my prick out of her cunt, I got to the side of the bed, she sat up, and was about to get off, when I stopped her, and together we undid her stays, and took them off. "Let me wash now." 'No, you shan't, I've never yet fucked with my first sperm in you, let me now, there is a darling." She laughed, and fell back; then for a few minutes we kissed and toyed. Her magnificent breasts were now free, I buried my face between them, and kissed them rapturously; her moistened quiet I felt, and it drove me wild with desire; so gluing my mouth to hers I mounted her, and we were soon in Elysium again, Sarah enjoying her fuck in a way I thought from her cold-blooded manner previously she was quite incapable of, and there we laid, nestling cock and cunt together, till a slight sleep or doze overtook both of us. In a minute or two Sarah sprang up, and rushed to the basin. I lay still, contemplating her, and saying I would not wash my prick for a week, so that I might retain in the roots and its moistened fringe our mixed juices, the remnants of our first spend together. When she had washed, she laid down by the side of me. "Let's have a nap," said she. The wine seemed to be getting into her head more and more, though she was but in the slightest degree fuddled. I could not sleep. The sight of her breasts relieved from hq stays, the free manner in which she let her petticoats lay half up her thighs, the delight at finding her take pleasure in my embraces exulted me beyond measure. I joked and tickled her. "Let's see you naked." "You shan't." "Well, stand up, and let me see your limbs naked, take off your petticoats, even if you keep your chemise on." She was yielding, took petticoats off, but would do no more. I had seen more than any other man, and she would do no more, she said. The wine had evaporated, and she was herself again, quiet, composed.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Maddened with desire, "I'll give you a sovereign," I said, "to take the chemise off." "Will youl" "Yes." "No, I won't." "IT give you two." "What can you want to see more for?" "Hang it, take the money, and let me, or I'll rip it off without paying." I closed with her, and struggled, pulled the chemise up above her haunches, pulled it down below her breasts, tore it. "Now don't, - I woe t have it," said she, getting angry, "it won't please you if I do, - you will not like to see me half as well afterwards, I tell you." "Yes I shall, - here is the money, - now let me see you naked, - ril give you three sovereigns."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She pushed me away, and sat down. "Where is the money?" said she. I gave it her. "I've got an ugly scar, I don't like it seen." "Never mind, show it" Slowly she dropped the chemise, and stood in all her naked beauty, and pointing to a scar just below her breasts, and about four inches above her navel, "There," said she, "is it not ugly? does it not spoil me, how I hate itl" I told her no, that she was so beautiful that it mattered not Yet ugly it was. A seam looking like a piece of parchment which had been held close to a fire and crinkled, and then glazed, star shaped, white, and as big as a large egg lay between her breasts and her navel. It was the only defect on one of the most perfect cad beautiful forms that God ever had created.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>'There," said she, covering it up, "you won't want me naked now I dare say you don't like me as much." Yes I did.'Yes." She came and kissed me. I often had her as naked as she was born afterwards. "What is the time?" "Ten o'clock." "I must go." "Another poke." 'Make haste then." We had it. "Oh! now don't keep me, -if I'm not home by half-past ten I shall be half murdered." She had let expressions like that drop more than once; but I got no explanation excepting that she lived with her father and mother, and at that time I believed it.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>At the next meeting she had her old quiet manner, her old 'keep your distance" was attempted; but it was impossible. A woman must always give again what she has once given, she can not help it, Then came more dinners, but she was more cautious now in what she eat and drank, less reckless in her embraces of me; but we were closer acquaintances than we had been; she let me pull her about more freely and as a matter of course, washed her quim without hiding herself for that operation, and so on, yet still she held me at a great distance, and was reserved. She conquered me, in a degree.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>In fact she did pretty well what she liked with me; saw me when she liked, stopped with me as long as she thought proper, let ms flack her just as often as she liked and no more (and it was rarely she let me do that more than once a day), see to her knees, or to her cunt, or pull her about just in the degree she for the time thought fit to permit. I grumbled, said I would see more complaisant women. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Well I might if I liked, but I did not. Her indifference to sexual pleasure chilled and annoyed me and for a reason I never could understand, her cunt never seemed quite to fit me, nor fetch me with the voluptuousness that scores of other women have done. Yet I saw her almost exclusively for three years, and when she gave herself up to pleasure with me, my delight was unbounded; when she let me have her with her cunt unwashed after our first copulation, I thought of it for days afterwards. Altogether she had her way with me in a manner I did not see and have only comprehended since.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>This went on for some months. Whether she had other male friends or not I don't know, but I never found her in Regent Street or other places where I had once been able to find her, after I began to see her regularly, and have reason to think that she ceased casuals after she had me, and perchance another, that is all. Hannah said often at a future day that I was her only friend.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I have not yet described her. She was of perfect height for a woman, say five feet seven, her form from her chin to her toe-nails was faultless, if anything inclining to too much flesh, and to too goat a backside; but then I liked flesh, and a woman's bum could not be too big for me. I used to rub my lips and cheeks over her bum for a quarter of an hour at a time, when she condescended to turn it upwards for so long a time lor that worship. Handsome her face certainly was, but it was of a somewhat heavy character: her eyes were dark, soft, and vague in expression which together with the habit of leaving her lips slightly open, gave her a thoughtful; and at times half-vacant look. Her nose was charming and retrousse', her mouth small, with full lips, and a delicious set of very small white teeth, her hair was nearly black, long, thick, and coarsish dark hair in large quantity was in her armpits, and showed slightly when her arms were down, her arms and breasts were superb. Her cunt was thick-kipped, and with largish inner lips which showed well on nearly the whole length of the split; her mons was very plump, and covered well, but not widely, with crisp black hair. She looked twenty-six, yet was not more than twenty-two, and she looked most handsome when lying asleep.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>If I were asked the most perfect thing about her, I should say her feet and legs up to her notch, they were simply perfect; I have seen them as handsome in smaller women, never in one of her height. I must add that her cunt was large both outside and inside, and that she was not a voluptuous poke to me, but why I can only guess at now; I did not know it whilst I was acquainted with her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>A little of that satisfies me," she would say of poking, "once a week, once a fortnight, excepting at times, you men are beasts, all of you." She at first refused my mouth, never moved her bum, and laid like a log. "Here I am, do what you like, do it, and get it over, or leave it," was her common mode of meeting my grumbling. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Her last sexual pleasure with me was, I believe, the night she dined with me; afterwards she took pleasure with me once frequently, but uncunting me and rushing out of bed to wash the instant I had spent, before I had indeed done spending: until a sudden change in her took place which I shall tell of and then she was kinder; more lustful, or perhaps I might say more loving, and more reckless; letting me enjoy her after her own fashion, and abandoning herself to enjoyment as much as it was perhaps in her nature to do so. I found that she often now was with the keeper of the house, or rather she who represented her, Hamnah. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>So I got acquainted more closely with Hannah, would go into her parlour, and talk with her before Sarah came. This began one day when I was awaiting Sarah by her asking me if I would cast up a column of figures, nearly the whole of which was in five shillings and seven and sixes. I did it once, then I did it a second time. Going in one day just afterwards, she stepped out from her parlour and thanked me. I stepped into the parlour, and got into the custom of doing so, if ladies were not in there, but there was a good introduction business done, as will be seen, and often-times ladies were waiting there till their swains arrived.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One day she cooked a luncheon for me, once a breakfast, the latter was during the time I had quarrelled with Sarah, and took another woman to sleep with me there. I complimented her on her cooking, she was half groggy (as she often was), and was very talkative. "Lord," said she, "you have tasted my dinners many a times." "Nonsense." "Yes you have." "Where?" "Do you recollect a ball at *x*x**, where all the servants were allowed to look at the table before supper, and your coming down with Mr. ***, and we all scuba back?" "Perfectly." "Well, I cooked that super." Then it turned out that she had been cook at a house where I was a constant visitor, she had recognized me at once, but did not recollect my name, or so she said, ndeed it was not probable that she knew it. She had been caught with a soldier in the house, and had been kicked out.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Now by chance of fortune she was keeper of a baudy house, and her soldier visited her there when in London, he was a Guardsman, and she supplied him with money, and lots he had, for she robbed her Mistress wholesale of the baudy house profits. J or had two sisters, one a married woman with a bad husband, and several children. She often came and assisted at Jxxxx's. Street, sometimes acting a chambermaid, and about two years after this period of my history a second one appeared who had been a housemaid, and who had I suppose also lost her character. A pretty blue-eyed girl about twenty years old with a cast in her eye, and a lovely leg up to within a few inches of her cunt. I never saw higher, and shall have more to say about her hereafter. Her name was Susan, a sailor was said to be in love with her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Sarah at the end of some months asked me to give her five pounds, and soon afterwards ten pounds. She was going to make up a sum of money to buy a business for her father. She had been dressing very shabbily I noticed, and said she knew I did not mind that, and it was all because she was trying to save money, to quit that life she hoped, and I believed it. I could not get her for several days, yet could have sworn I had heard her voice one day in loud altercation with a man in the parlour when I was waiting for her upstairs. I rang and asked for her; the servant came, and asserted that Miss Mavis was not there, and I never saw her that night. Next day I made an appointment (through Hannah) for eleven a.m., and waited a long time before she came up. She looked ill. "You've been crying." "I have not." "Yes you have, your eyes are red, aye, and wet now." She asserted she had not, and then burst out sobbing saying she was unwell. I was distressed, and sent for wine. Hannah came up and comforted her (I saw Hannah knew all about it). Then we were left to ourselves. "I've never been a bed all night," said Sarah. "Come to bed now." To my extreme astonishment into bed she came,.after looking at me in a very earnest manner.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had often asked her before, and she never would; saying she never had been in bed but with one man, and never meant. I was enraptured, stripped to my skin, and was soon pressing every part of her body to mine. She gave herself up to me entirely, her tongue met mine as we spent. "Don't throw me out now dear." "Very well." Oh! miracle, I thought, and there we lay, prick and cunt soaking together, till we had another fuck, then she dozed off in my arms, and I soon afterwards. We slept more than two hours, then my fingers sought her cunt directly and awakened her. I told her the time, she sighed saying, "It's no matter, it serves them right." It was a day of miracles, Hannah sent up food, we eat it in bed, we fucked again and again. I was delighted with the spunk we left on the sheets; then we dined at the Cafe, and went back to the baudy house, more fucking, no cunt-washing, all was free, baudy abandonment.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Hannah came up to us about the time Sarah usually left me, and told her it was time for go. Sarah said she did not care a damn, Hannah begged her to go, she would go home with her. She agreed to go, kissed me, and said I was a kind fellow. I waited outside, and tried to dodge her home; but was unsuccessful; the two discovered me, stopped, and upbraided me, and came back to the baudy house. Then she made me promise not to follow her, and went out to piddle as she said. Hannah followed, I waited five minutes for them, and then called to the servant. She came in with a demure face, and said, "Lor sir they have both gone out five minutes ago."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>For weeks after that Sarah was changed, and with the exception of not stripping entirely, did as freely as I wished, she did everything I wanted but sleep with me all night; she kept out later, but away at night she went; she embraced me, enjoyed her fucking, and in fact treated me like a husband. Then she said one day, "I'm some months gone in the family way." "Who's the dad?" "You perhaps." "No I'm not, it's some man you are fond of, not me." "I am fond of no man," said she. Then she was ill, and away for three weeks, she had had a miscarriage. I was in despair, and sent her money all the time of her illness, but could learn nothing from Hannah, excepting that Sarah was a dear good woman, and too good for him. That was said before the sister, who cried out, "You shut up, Hannah." So I came to the conclusion there was some other man in the way.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Another day I pumped Hannah, but she was an old bird, and not easily caught. "She is fond of a man," I said. "She is not a fond sort, if she is fond of any man at all it's you, but she has got her duty to do." "What's that?" Ask her, I don't know her business. Now you get out, there are some ladies coming here directly, and Miss Mavis won't like your being here with them." 'I'm not her property." "Pretty nearly you are, at all events go, there is a good gentleman." Whilst Sarah was away I did get acquainted with three or four ladies, and two of them I had. Sarah had then either gone abroad, or I had had a desperate quarrel with her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>When Sarah met me again she was still miserably ill, and thanked me for my kindness warmly. We resumed our meetings, and again she was cautious, but no longer bounced me. She spent with me, enjoyed me, but entreated me,"Oh! let me wash out the muck, now do pull it out, I am so frightened of being ill again." So I let her have her way. She refused to say anything about her illness, excepting that it was I who had caused it; but I did not believe her. She usually now gave way to pleasure with me; at the end of the month I gave her twenty pounds to make up a sum, then she got still more exacting about money. "Oh! I do stop a long time with you, give me more money, do, I want to make up, a sum," &c., &c., and then of course came a lie. At length she said (one bright sunny morning it was, I had poked her, and was laying on the sofa afterwards, she sitting on the easy-ebair, her lovely breasts out, one beautiful leg over the other showing slightly the flesh of her thighs), "You wont see much more of me, we are going abroad. I started as if I had been shot at. "You? nonsense, never." "I am indeed, I'm sick of this life, and will go anywhere, do anything to get out of it."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I sank back on the sofa sobbing, it came home to me all at once that I was madly in love with her. I was dazed with my own discovery, I in love with a gay woman! one whose cunt might have had a thousand pricks up itl who might have sprung from any dung-hill! - impossible! I felt mad with myself, - degraded! - impossible, - it could not be, - and for a time I conquered myself. I tried then to draw her out about herself. It was useless. Her quiet way of asserting that she was, going at length brought home the conviction that she spoke, the truth. Then I laid and sobbed on the sofa for half-an-hour. "Oh! you will soon get another friend," said she. "No, no, I can get a woman, but not one I shall like, Sarah my darling, Sarah I love you, I dote on you, oh! for God's sake don't leave, come with me, you shan't lead this life, we will go abroad together."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"That is impossible, if I did you would leave me, and then what should I do? come back to this life, no." "You are going with somebody else, who?" "I can't say, I'll tell you when I am gone." "When are you going?" "Perhaps in a fortnight, perhaps a little later on."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I calmed for a time, a fortnight might give me a chance of persuading her, and I began it at once; but it was all, "No, - no, - no, - it's all for the best for both of us," and again I fell into deep despair, my heart felt breaking, I had been so happy with this woman for months, she had so filled my thoughts, so occupied my spare tire, that I had half forgotten my home life. Now I felt alone again, I had told her some of my troubles, not all, now I poured them all out, and offered everything, all I had, to go that next day abroad, and never return; that I would make her love me though she did not now, I promised all man could promise, and meant it.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"No, no, impossible," and again I fell back on the sofa sobbing like an infant. I have almost the deadly heart-ache now as I write this. She sat looking at me for some time, then she arose, stooped over me, and kissed me. I turned round, and how strange that in my despair I noticed it, and now recollect noticing it! as she stooped her chemise opened, and as I put my arm round her, her breasts touched my face, and as I moved to kiss them I saw her whole lovely form down to her feet, the dark hair of her motte, the bright white sear; and all in the soft subdued light which is on a woman's body when enveloped in a thin chemise, and my prick stood whilst kissing her and sobbing, and she was soothing me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"It's of no use your loving me," she said, "and it's of no use my loving you, don't take on so, perhaps when I am gone you will be happier at home, I can't love you, although I like you very much, for you have been a good, kind man to me, I nearly do love you I think, if I were with you I'm sure I should, but it's of no use, for I am a married woman, and have two children, and am going with them and my husband."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was amazed, and doubted it. "I'll bring you my children to see," said she, it was to get them their dinners and tea that I always left you at times as I have." "And at night?" "I always go home before he comes home." 'You always go home to your husband? 'Yes." How I loathed that man, my loathing rose to my lips, "That miserable contemptible cur lives by your body, a dirty vagabond." "No he's not, poor fellow, he would earn our living if he could, but he can't." "I don't believe it, a man who lives by a woman is barely a man, I would empty cesspools to keep a woman I loved, rather than another man should stroke her, no good can come of it, he'll leave you for some other woman some day.' ' Sarah turned nasty, said she was sorry she had told me so much, that all I said against him only made her like him the more; and so leaving me in sorrow she went away.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Now that I felt sure she was going away, I could not see too much of her; morning, noon, and night I had her, She brought her two children to me, and very proud she was of them. How it was I 'never noticed the marks of childbirth on her before I know not, but I never had. I spoke of that now. "I took good care you should not," she said smiling, and I recollected that when I had her by the side of the bed, when I looked at her on the sofa, it was nearly awav, with her back to the light; when laying on the bed, and I tried to gratify my passion by opening her thighs and gazing on her hidden charms, she nearly always half-turned towards the window, and her belly was in shadow. "I don't like to be pulled about, I won't have it, if you want me have me, and have done with it, get another woman if you like who will do it, or allow it, I won't." These and similar answers always settled me, and I submated, for I was tinder her domination, and in my folly I had actually feared that if I persisted, she would not come to see me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She brought her children in the morning to me at J***s Street, and I had her that afternoon. Now she was free enough, pointed herself to the marks of childbirth (very slight they were), and voluptuously held her cunt lips open, she had never done so before. From that day and afterwards she allowed me to see her in, every way or manner, if not to let me do what I wished. The mystery was over, I knew most if not all, certainly all about her person.</I></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 10. </I><I>Poses plastiques • Sarah departs • My despair • Hannah's comfort • Foolscap and masturbation • Cheap cunt • A mulatto • The baudy house accounts • Concerning Sarah • The parlour • The gay ladies there • My virtue • Louisa Fisher • A show of legs • The consequence on me • Effect on Mrs. Z**i.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I dined with Sarah repeatedly until her departure. She was now often in low spirits, and drank very freely of champagne; then would fuck with a passion and energy which did not seem natural to her, for by look and general manner one would have sworn she was even tempered, and without much passion, had I not found that out by experience? One night soon after she had brought her children to me, she seemed wild with lust. What was the matter with me I don't know, but I had no desire for her, and could scarcely stiffen for the embrace; yet she was in ecstasies with me as I fucked her. "Do it again," said she. "I can't." "You must do it, I've not washed." "I can't." "Yes, - yes, - I'm mad for you," said she, and we kept on fucking till early the next morning. "I am in the family way again I think," said she as she left, "and if so will jump over Westminster Bridge." But she was not, and after that night she persuaded me not to spend in her, but to withdraw just as my emission took place. 'It will spoil all my plans if I am in the family way, said she, "all I have done will be of no use if I cannot act." 'Act?' "Yes, I am an actress.' "Does not your husband spend in your cunt. No one has spent in me but you since my miscarriage, I wod t let him, and he doesn't want me in the family way."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>'You an actress!' "Yes, have you never see me?" "No." "Are you sure? 'Yes.' **Did you ever see the Poses plastiques and Madame W"'t'n?"'Yes, two or three years ago. Well I was one of her troupe." Good God and what da your do rows" "Nothing, but we have a troupe going On the Continent. I am the principal, I am Madame W;" **t*n now."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then she told me she had in her youth been a model for artists, had sat to Etty and Frost, hers was the, form which had been painted in many of their pictures, and then she would say more. I grew sadder and sadder as the time came for her departure; so did she. She said I worried and unsettled her; she wondered sometimes if she were doing the best thing for herself and children, or not. She was so frightened lest she should get in the family way that as already said she made me withdraw before the critical moment, spending my sperm on her thighs or on the crisp hair of her motte. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I got an idea into my head (a stupid one enough), that if she were to get in the family way by me she would stay in London; and one night after we had dined, and she had had pleasure in my groping, and as usual had said, "Now don't do it in me," I plunged my prick up, and spent a full stream in her cunt. "I hope to God that sperms all up your womb," said I. Her own pleasure had so overcome her that she could not move for a minute; then jumping up she washed herself with a sponge, she recently had used one. I never had a spend in her again for months afterwards.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then for hours I used to look her over and over from head to foot, as if I wished to recollect every part of her person for ever afterwards: the roots of her hair, her ears, the way the hair grew on the nape of her neck; the way it grew on her cunt, and in her armpits, and every other part I used to look over as if searching for something; the only part of her which escaped my investigations was the bum-furrow, which was to me an uncomfortable part in all women, and in my wildest sexual ecstasies and aberrations I neither felt it nor saw it, and don't know whether the hole was round or square, red or brown.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>After she had told me she had sat as a model, she brought me a small oil-painting of herself made by an artist of some rank. She was proud of it, and so was her husband. I offered such a price for it that placed as she was she could not resist, and I bought it. She gave me one day a photograph of herself; both had the characteristic opening of the lips well shown. It is only recently that I have destroyed these mementos of a dead affection.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>When I saw that nothing would keep her in England, I did my best to help her enterprise, gave her money freely, paid for dresses, boots, travelling cloaks, children's dresses, and in brief, for everything. During the nine months I had known her she in fact ran me dry, and in debt. I spent upon her more than I could have lived on for four years at the rate I lived at just before I met her. But I was now in better circumstances than I had been for years, and the money was my own.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>As the time approached, I could neither sleep nor eat, and used to be at J' **s Street hours before I knew she could come; would wait any time for her, treating Hannah and the ladies, and doing nothing but talk about Sarah. Sometimes I used to think about following her abroad. When she came to the house, I used to spend my time in crying, and she after telling me not to be foolish, would cry too. Then, "Oh! let me see you naked" "There then. " Then came kisses all over her body. "Oh! now for God's sake don't spend in me." Then came a delicious fuck; then crying and moaning recommenced. She left a week at least before she had said she should, and did so to prevent me the pain of parting with her, I must give her that credit Hannah told me so.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had arranged to meet her one morning, and was as usual there before my time. Hannah stepped out from the parlour. "Has Sarah come?" She beckoned me into the parlour. "Why, they all sailed this morning, my sister went to see them off, did you not know?" I staggered to the sofa dizzy, speechless, then senseless. When I came to myself, Hannah was standing beside me with brandy and water and a spoon with which she was putting it into my mouth.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Don't take on so; said she, "don't think any more about Sarah, she is a fine woman, but there are lots as good, I know a dozen, and any one would be glad to know a man like you, have some brandy and water," - and she took a great gulp herself. 'There now," said she, bending over me, "would you like to see Mrs. "",-she who met you the other night in here with Sarah, she has taken quite a fancy to you, don t cry. Sarah will come back, and if she don't you'll get another woman whom you will like as well. There is Mrs. **", a splendid shaped woman who only sees one gentleman here, she took quite a fancy to you though she only saw you once." But I was desperate, and rushed out of the house. Where I went to, I don't even recollect, but went home at last very drunk, an extraordinary occurrence for me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>For some days I was prostrate fn mind, and almost in body, but at length recovered sufficiently to attend a little to my affairs which had gone altogether to the bad for a month, and had been going bad for many months. I resolutely set myself against going to J***s Street, and would not have women; indeed scarcely knew where to lay my hand on a shilling, so necessity had perhaps as much to do with my virtue as anything else; but I was generally in a weak, low state of health, and really believe, though it seems to me almost incredible now, that it was well nigh three weeks before I touched or saw a cunt after Sarah left.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then one Sunday I had erections all day long. After dinner lust drove me nearly mad, so I went to my room, took a clean sheet of white paper, and frigged myself over it. My prick only slightly subsided, I frigged again, and then as the paper lay before me covered with sperm-pools I cried because it was not up my dear Sarah's vagina, laid my head on the table where the paper lay, and sobbed with despair, jealousy, and regrets, for I thought some one would fuck her if I did not, that it would be her hateful husband whom she had helped to keep with my money.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I may say here that on several occasions of my life I have frigged myself over a clean sheet of foolseap paper, it was mostly done for curiosity, to see what my sperm was like, whether it was as thin, or as thick, or as large in quantity as at the last time I previously had masturbated. I could not after that Sunday keep away from J*"s Street, and went there the next day. "I don't expect she'll write to you; said Hannah, even if she said she would, what will be the use? it will only make you miserable.' But I felt sure she would; and kept away from women still for some time after that, I was stumped for money among other reasons. Tben I began to spend involuntarily in the night, which to me was more hateful than frigging myself; so one night I went out for a bit of cheap quim.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I went first into the streets near a large well-known tavern at a spot where several big thoroughfares meet, and where there is a large traffic, and picked up my cheap women there. But the women their chemises and petticoats, and their rooms shocked me more than they used, and kept me chaster than I otherwise might have been.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One night I went home with a tall straight woman who would not take my fee. "No," said she, "I've got two. nice little rooms of my own." If you get a woman for five shillings you have to pay for the room besides, and ten shillings is only a small sum; so I went with her for ten shillings, and saw her at intervals for a few months.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She was about five feet nine high, was not stout, was as straight as a lath, yet not thin, bad very firm but quite small breasts, and a biggish bum. She had mulatto blood in her veins she told ms, and was brown-skinned, had a large mouth and very thick lips, the Negro blood showed there plainly; her hair was dark, and so were her eyes; her cunt was a pouter, it was small, but the lips pouted out more thickly I think than those of any woman I ever yet saw, yet they were not flabby, but protruded largely like two halves of a sausage; the hair was black, short, and intensely crisp and curly; it felt like curled horse-hair. I used to think her a plain woman, one of the plainest, but she was a glorious fuckster; her cunt was tight inside, and yet so elastic as not to hurt or pinch (and I was at that time when just at spunking point as often said before tender-pricked). The hair of her head was coarse yet straight, her large mouth was filled with teeth of a splendid whiteness, and when she smiled she showed the whole set. It was seeing her large white teeth that first attracted me before I could distinguish any other feature of the face; you could see them at night right across a mad, they were dazzling, and almost made one forget the great thick-lipped orifice which opened to expose them. I have before told of women who attracted me by their teeth, and particularly of a Creole.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>This mulatto as I called her, amused me with her lecherous postures; she was as lithe as a willow branch, and was willing to please. I was fond of making her kneel on the bed with bum towards me, and her legs nearly close together, and then the backward pout of her cunt was charming to me, so much so that I took to poking her dog fashion.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One night when I was full of sperm I made her remain in that posture until all my spunk had run out of her cunt, and sat holding a candle towards her rump till I was satisfied with the sight; and more than once I kept her in that position, looking at the gruelly lips until I fucked her a second time.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She had such a very remarkable steady walk that she scarcely seemed to move, she glided, her feet were so nicely carried forward, and her body so evenly balanced from her hips. In this respect she resembled a talk dark woman named Fletcher, whom I knew quite recently. There must have been something in the arrangement of their thighs and hips which caused this. Women who are accustomed to carry heavy loads on their heads always walk straight, and never roll from side to side as most people more or less do; but I don't know that either of the women named had carried baskets on their heads, I knew the walls of that class of women, having been born in the neighbourhood where they worked.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She, I imagine, had a liking for my doing it naked with her, for she was always suggesting that we should strip, but she could not bear my fucking her dog-fashion. When I stripped and got into her on her belly, she would twist her legs right into mine in quite a snaky fashion, and sometimes lift her legs up till her heels were almost up to my blade-bones. She also, like a few others I have poked, seemed to have the power of holding my prick in her cunt quite tightly after I had spent, perhaps because she had not spent herself, for about her pleasures in the copulation I am not sure, though she always impressed me as being a hot-cunted one.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>After I had once been to J" 's Street again I went more and more frequently. Hannah was always nearly screwed, champagne or brandy pleased her best. When she was so, she would at times gradually let out much that she knew, and this is what she let out one day.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>'Bah! her husband indeed!-she is not married, he's got a wife, besides, and Sarah 'knows it, he's blackened his wife's eyes more than once when she has been annoying them; but that don't pay, for she is his lawful wife, so he allows her something, and it keeps her quiet, and she won't last long, for she is drunk from daybreak till night. Sarah's a real good one to keep the lazy beggar, she keeps them all, poor thing, ever since he could not get any engagement; there's she, and their children, and her sister, who lives with them, and then there is her old mother who she keeps, and his wife as well, she has enough to do, poor thing,' Thiscame out one day after Hannah had dined; I had brought her a bottle of specially fine brandy, and we were sitting in the parlour drinking it together, mixed with water.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had long been getting into Hannah's, good graces I stood wine and brandy, was always respectful to her and the gay ladies I met in her parlour; and never used coarse, rude language to them, nor in speaking of them or of ladies of their class. Hannah told me I was a great favorite with several of them, as Indeed I found to be the case. I may say that all my life I never spoke disrespectfully to or of gay ladies, so icng as they behaved themselves; they have been mostly throughout my life, kind and true to me after their fashion, they gave me pleasure, and I treated them as if I was grateful for it.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>But I was moreover serviceable to Hannah, once or twice as told she had brought me some figures to cast up, and when Sarah had left, she brought me others on various little scraps of paper. She asked me never to mention my having done so to her sister, and I did net. I became curious at finding the items were all in five shillings, seven and sixpence, ten and twenty shillings; at last it struck me what it was, and taxing her with it found it was the takings of the baudy house. She told me so with a laugh. She could not write herself.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The takings were put on slips of paper by the servants, and by some process of her own which she could not explain, she got a rough sort of check on the servants to prevent them robbing her. She had to account to the real owner of the house, and how she did it she alone knows. This is certain (she once admitted it), that from the takings she put a pound a day into her own pocket. Whether she robbed the owner to that extent, or whether it was her admitted share I never knew. She was well dressed, had excellent food, allowed her Guardsman money, her sister's husband money, and others too I rather think. But after she had taken her three or four hundred pounds a year, there was a splendid income handed over to some one. This house had but eight rooms and two more closets, to let out for fucking; they often took twenty pounds a day, and sometimes much more.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I did this arithmetic pretty regularly, and she became my fast friend. She told me all about Sarah that she knew (what Sarah at a future day told me agreed with it), and much about the habits of other loose ladies which will be partially narrated in due time, and a good deal about baudy house management.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>And now more about Sarah's antecedents. A new species of entertainment had sprung into existence a few years before this time, called Poses plastiques, in which men and women covered with silk fitting tightly to their naked limbs and made quite white, placed themselves on stages in classical groups to the sound of music. Women and men of great physical beauty formed these groups, they were in fact actors of that class. Madame W***t*n, known as a splendid model, first got them up; her husband was a splendid man, Sarah was her niece, and also had the beautiful form which ran in the family; she was poor, and Madame W***t*n took her to live with them, and at seventeen years of age she appeared as Venus.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>At nineteen she had a child by Madame W***t*n*s husband, at twenty a second. Madame found out the father, and kicked Sarah out. Mr. W***t*n then kicked Madame out, and went to live with Sarah, rows ensued, other companies of Poses plastiques came into competition, the thing got overdone, he could not get his living; he knew a trade, but was I expect too lazy to work at it; so Sarah took to letting herself out as model, and that being poor pay, to letting out her cunt to get their bread; she had just begun it when I first met her. They seem during a year or more to have parted with all their goods, before she took to showing her belly-parting for money.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>So beautiful a form of course succeeded, and for a time I became the principal milk-cow. Then a proposition was made to form a troupe to go to the Continent; there seemed to be a grand opening, and with Sarah's money (most of it got from me), the apparatus, costumes, properties, and troupe were got together. Off they had gone. She and her husband were the exhibition-managers, speculators, and chief actors.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Hannah made a mouth when I asked what sort of a man Mavis was. She did not think much of him, why did he not work? he had a trade? No, because he was no longer able to get on as an actor, he preferred to let Sarah get the living for the whole of them. "Ah! you'll see her back, mark my words, they won't succeed, and then what will take place? you'll see, is she, poor thing, to work and do everything, that he may lay a bed, dress as a gentleman, and do nothing but take her out for a walk on a Sunday; she is as proud of his taking her out for a walk on a Sunday as if he kept ber a carriage." After much reflexion I came to the conclusion that Sarah had only first turned harlot about the time I had first met her, that she did it to keep her man and her family, and he got accustomed to his woman getting his living for him.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I kept on calling at J***s Street, always expecting to hear of Sarah. Hannah was glad to see me, for now I cast up her accounts weekly. I got acquainted with two or three ladies there who came at intervals to meet their friends. They were very nice women, none were ever to be seen in the streets, they had either their own acquaintances whom they met at J***s Street, or Hannah had introduced them to gentlemen there.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>They were not a bit like whores in dress, appearance or manners, and my acquaintance with them opened rnv mind to the fact that there is a large amount of occult fucking going on with needy, middle-class women, whose mode of living and dressing is a mystery to their friends, and who mingle with their own class of society without its being suspected that their cunts are ever wetted by sperm which lawfully may not be put there.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I began to stand wine when I met them, and was introduced as a friend of Miss Mavis who had gone abroad. I was, I found, well known by name and character for kindness, and I expect also for being a fool, All the women were shy at first, Hannah's sister (the servant), I overheard telling Hannah that the ladies did not like my being in the parlour. Hannah at times would ask me to leave, as a lady wanted to come into the parlour and wait there, and so on. But gradually Hannah would say, "Who is it? Oh! she knows him," or "Oh! she won't mind, let her come in." So by degrees I became intimate with these privately gay ladies, and several of them on more than one occasion joined their sweet bodies to mine In the game of under and over.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had never had a woman in the house since Sarah had gone; firstly because I did then not pay more for the girls than I did for the room alone at J***s Street, and because I feared if Sarah came back Hannah would tell her, as if it would have mattered to Sarah in any way excepting that another woman would get the money she might have had. Still I had that stupid idea about the matter, and although I had longed for one or two of the other ladies, and although they had looked languishingly at me, I never had then proposed a private interview upstairs.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One day Hannah said she had heard from Sarah who had asked after me. "They are (Sarah and the troupe) getting on well," said Hannah. "If she says so I suppose they are, but we shall see." Suddenly, "Have you had another woman since she left?" The question startled me. "No." "Oh! I don't believe it, if you haven't you're a nasty man." Then I confessed, and told her what I had done. "Why don't you have Mrs. Fisher?" said she. "I'm poor, and can't, I'm not going to do what I did with Sarah." "Lord she won't mind, she'd like you, I know, but don't say I said so, she's got a lovely leg, she's a fine woman, nearly as fine made as Sarah Mavis, and she is taller, she never gets it done at home." Hannah was unusually muddled with liquor that day, and let out, her sister was not there to check her with "Now then Hannah you'd better shut up," and Hannah described Mrs. Fisher's hidden charms till my cock stood.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I would pass hours sketching from recollection Sarah Mavis' limbs and form, her bum and cunt being the most favorite subjects; then so randy that I did not know what to do with myself, I would rush out into the streets to prevent my frigging myself, and erotic night-dreams were frequent.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Why don't you see Mrs. Z**i," said Hannah to me, "she likes you, and would come up any day if I wrote to her (I had supped two or three times with that lady), I would not fret about Sarah, although she is a fine woman, you let her see you have another woman, and she will come round if she comes back." But I did not for a time.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One afternoon, however, being in the parlour, Mrs. Z**i was there, a splendid woman about twenty-six years old. Also was there a young woman who had two children by a man with whom she was about to go abroad, and she was a lovely woman. The two ladies had just had a two o'clock dinner with Hannah, I had just come from my Club after luncheon, and sent for champagne. All our talk got frisky, all knew Sarah, my love. If I could get any one to talk with me about her, I was delighted, and began at it. Said the Mistress, "Well, she is a splendid-formed woman certainly, splendid, but there are lots of others, I've a good leg to my knee, so has Mrs. Z**i, and her. '" (meaning the other whose name I forget), "Show us your leg," said one. "There," said Hannah, pulling up her clothes, "new show yours." They all showed their limbs, one after another. "You might fancy you had Sarah's legs round your thighs, if you had hers. Z**i s there," said Hannah. I was nigh bursting for a fuck. Mrs. Z**i pulled her clothes up higher, and stood up to show the leg better; the other lad, as did the sage. I felt my pleasure coming; and objecting to wet my shirt, began to unbutton. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Oh! I can't bear it," I cried; "Oh! my god I'm coming," and the instant my prick was free from my trowsers I spent copiously, the three women (their petticoats still up nearly to their cunts, looking and laughing: I had not frigged, it was fallness, and the voluptuous delight at seeing the limbs of the three fine women which fetched me. "There is lots of stuff in him," said one. Ashamed of myself, I begged their pardons, and sent for more wine. "He had better have given one of you ladies that good spunk," said the Mistress. I overcame my bashfulness, they laughed about what Sarah Mavis had missed, one professed to feel annoyed at my behaviour. "Oh! you are damned modest," said Hannah.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Mrs. Z**i soon afterwards went upstairs into the bedroom to a gentleman she had come to meet, the Mistress said she should lay down, she always did after her dinner, and slept for two hours, she was fuddled, and indeed always was. The mother of the two children and I were alone; from the instant I had spent she had never taken her eyes off me, never. I recollect the look of her dark eyes and their expression quite well. Hannah snored almost directly. "Let its have a kiss," said the lady to me, "I know you are fond of a well formed woman," and she pulled up her clothes a little. She was sitting on the sofa, my prick rose, I bolted the door, and we fucked whilst the Mistress kept snoring.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Mrs. Z**i came down. "What, you here still? What have you been doing?" The mother replied, "He has been smoking, and talking about his dear Sarah." The woman was actually sitting at that very moment with a flood of my sperm up her cunt, for she had neither wiped, nor washed, nor pissed since I had fucked her. Then they talked about Z' *i's friend who was a clergyman. Z**i was the wife of a man who lived with her, but never had her (so she said); she hated him, he had clapped her once.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The mother went out of the room, and came back, Hannah awoke, we had tea, I paid, it was my rule then to pay for everything for the ladies whenever I was in the baudy house parlour. I rose to go, shaking hands with the two ladies. The one whom I had embraced put a bit of paper privately into my hand. Outside the house I read it. "Wait outside," it said. I had been delighted with her pleasure, and did so. She came out, we walked quickly off. 'You go to the top of the next street," said she, "and I'll meet you," - and she went another way, and met me at the top. "I did that in case Z**i came out," said she, "let us go and have dinner together." "I have not enough money," said I. "Never mind, I have." We went to the Cafe de P**v**ae, and dined; I fucked her again and again on a sofa. She was a charming woman. As we sat on a little sofa dallying after dinner, she said she had not had it for a month, her friend had gone to Germany where they were going to live, to make arrangements, he would return in a few days; then he, she, and the children were going to Germany with him. "I liked you," said she, "but when I saw what you did before us this afternoon, I could scarcely stop myself, I wanted it so badly, I dare say I'm in the family way, Oh! don't look, it's full, it's dirty, you shan't." </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The next instant I was up her again; afterwards she washed, and I saw her cunt. I paid for the dinner partly, she the rest, - I had not a sixpence left. "I'm sorry," I said to her, "that I have no more money." "I did not come here for money," said she. "Let me leave you half a dozen pair of gloves at No. 11." "No, I've lots of gloves." 'Then give me a kiss." She stood putting her tongue in my mouth for a minute, then giving me a hearty kiss off she went. I never saw her, nor had her again. Hannah told me she was in Germany, and very happy there.</I></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 11. </I><I>A friends maid-servant • Jenny • Initial familiarity • A bum pinched • Jenny communicative • Her young man • An attempt, a failure, a faint, a look, and a sniff • Restoratives.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I knew an elderly couple who were childless and lived in a nice little house in the suburbs with a long garden in front, and one at the back as well; they were in comfortable but moderate circumstances, and kept two servants only. Every year they went to the seaside, taking one servant with them, and leaving the other at home to look after the house; and usually some one to take charge of it with her. This year they asked if I would, when I passed the house (as I frequently did), call in and see if all was going properly, for the housemaid left in charge was young, and her sister, a married woman, usually only stopped the night with her, leaving early each morning for work in which she was daily engaged. She was an upholstress.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I knew the servant whose name was Jane. She had been with the family some months. I often dined at the house; and once or twice when she had opened the garden-gate (always locked at nightfall) to let me out, I had kissed her, and tipped her shillings. She was a shortish, fat-bummed wench Not long before this time I gave her bum such a hard pinch one night, that she cried out. A day or two afterwards I said, "Was it not black and blue?" "I don't know." "Let me see." "It's like your imperance," she replied. After that I used to ask her when I got the chance, to let me see if the finger-marks were there, at which she would blush a little, and turn away her head, but nothing further had come of the liberty.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>What a lot of women I have heard say they would not have believed it, when I Ant made a snatch at their privates. I suppose they say what they mean. Begging her pardon, "I could not help it," I said, you are so pretty and nice, I'd give ten pounds to be in bed with you an hour." "Well I'm sure." Think what it is not to have a woman you like." "Well I'm sure sir, you are a married man, you've got a partner, and ought to know better, missus would not have asked you to call if she'd a know'd you, she thinks there's no gent like you, what would she say if I tell her?" "But you wodt my dear." "She thinks you a perfect gentleman, and most unlucky," the girl went on to say, "and she is sorry for you too." "Oh! she does not know all, but you've heard, have you Jenny?" I tried to make her sit on the sofa again, and, promising that I would not forget myself any more, she did so. We kissed and made it up, and talking I soon relapsed into, baudiness.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The quarrelsome life I led with the oldish woman at home was, I knew, well understood by the old couple. "I lead a miserable life," said I. "Oh! yes I know all about it," said the girl, "master and missus often talk about you, but you're very gay; ain't your Then I told this girl a lot. "Think my dear what it is not even to sleep with a woman for two months, for two months we have never slept together, I've never seen her undressed, - never touched her flesh, you know what people marry for, I want a woman, you know what I mean don't you, -every night what am I to do? I love laying belly to belly naked with a nice woman, and taking my pleasure with her, so of course I can't keep from having other women at times, you don't know what an awful thing it is to have a stiff prick, and not a nice woman to relieve it." She gave me a push, got up, and made for the door at the word prick. Again I stopped her. She had sat staring at me with her mouth wide open, without saying a word, all the time I had been telling the baudy narrative of domestic trouble, as if she were quite stupefied by my plain language, until she suddenly jumped up, and made for the door without saying a word.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was as quick as she, caught her, put my back against the door, and would not let her go, but could not get her to look me in the face, I had so upset her. There we stood, I begging her to as far as I can recollect. She opened the door, and heard my errand and questions. Yes all was right. Did her sister come and sleep there? Yes. Was she there now? No, she would not be there till nearly dark. I stepped inside, for then I thought of larking with her. 'I am tired, and will rest a little," and stepped into the parlour, sat down on a sofa, began questioning her about a lot of trifles, and in doing so thought of the pinch I had given her bum, anal my cock began to tingle. Then I thought she was alone in the house. Oh! if she would let me fuck her! has she been broached? she is nice and plump. Curiosity increased my lust and unpremeditatingly I began the approaches for the attack, though I only meant a little amatory chaffing.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Is it black and blue yet, Jenny?" She did not for the instant seem to recollect, for she asked me innocently enough, "What sir?" "Your bum where I pinched it." She laughed, checked herself, coloured , up, and said, "Oh! don't begin that nonsense sir." I went on chaffing. "How I should like to have pinched it under your clothes, but no I would sooner kiss it than pinch it," "Oh! if you're agoing on like that I'll go to the kitchen." I stood before the door, and stopped her going out. "Now give me a kiss." I caught and kissed her, then gave a lot, and got a return from her. "I won't, Lor there then, what a one you are," and so on. "Well, Jane one kiss, and you may afterwards kiss whenever you want, you know." And so she seemed to think, for I got her to sit down on the sofa, and we gossiped and kissed at intervals, till my cock got unruly. 'What a fat bum you have," said I. Then she attempted to rise, I pulled her back, we went on gossiping, and kissing at intervals. She got quite interested in my talk as I sat with one arm round her waist, and another on her thigh, outside her clothes of course.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>So for a while; but I was approaching another stage, was getting randy, and reckless. "Lord how I'd like to be in bed with you, to feel that fat bum of yours, to feel your c - u - n - t, spelling it, 'to f - u - c - k it I'd give a five-poand note," said I all in a burst, and stooping, got my hand up her clothes on to her thigh. She gave a howl. "Oh! I say now, - what a shame! - Oh! you beast." I shoved her back on the sofa upsetting her, got my lips on her thighs and kissed them. Then she escaped me, and breathing hard, stood up looking at me after her struggle. 'Oh! I wouldn't sit down, and promising not to talk so again, she saying, "Now let me go, let me out." 'No, sit down." 'No." But in about a quarter of an hour she did, and then again I told her of my trouble, avoided all straightforward allusion to my wanting other women, but hinted at it enough. She got interested, and asked me no end of questions. "Lord, why don't you separate? if I quarrel with my husband so, I'm sure I will, I tell my young man so.! 'Oh you have a sweetheart." Yes she had, a grocer's shopman, he lived at Brighton, came up third class to see her every fortnight, starting early, and going back late. She was flattered by my enquiries, told me all about him and herself, their intention to get married in a year; and I sat and listened with one hand outside her clothes on her thigh, and thinking how I could best manage to get into her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"He goes with women," said I, to make her jealous. "He don't rm sure, if he did, and I found it out, I'd tear his eyes out, and break off with him, though he says Brighton is a dreadful place for there hussies." She got quite excited at the idea. "When he comes up, you and he enjoy yourselve, his hands have been where mine have to-night." "No he hasn't, if he dared I'd now I don't like this talk, you said you wouldn't, leave me alone, you keep breaking your word." Another little scuffle, a kiss, and a promise. "Why should you not enjoy yourselves? who would know anything about it but yourselves, it's so delicious to feel yourselves naked in each other's arms, your bellies close together.'Get away now,'' and she tried to get up. I got my hand up her clothes, pulled her on to the sofa, and holding her down with one hand, pressed myself sideways on her, and kissed her, pulling out my prick with the other.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then she cried out so loudly that I was alarmed, for the window at the back was open. "Hush, be quiet, there, I've touched your cunt.' I pulled one of her hands on to my prick "Oh! for shame Jane you touched my prick" Again she got up, and made for the door; so did I, and stood there with my back to it, and my poker out in front of me. "Come and open the door my dear, and you will run against this." She turned her head away, and would not look. "Why don't you come on? if you run up against it, it won't hurt you, it's soft though it's stiff. I'll write to my mistress tonight,' said she, and turned away. "Do my pet, tell her how stiff it was and the old lady will want to see it when she comes back" "It's disgraceful." "No, my dear, it's to be proud of, why you're looking at it, I can see."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then she turned quite away. "That's right dear, now I can see where I pinched your bum, it was not far from your little quim, oh if that could talk, it would ask to be introduced to this, it's hot, isn't it Jenny?" I said, this and a lot more. She had walked to the back window, and stood looking into the garden whilst I rattled on. "You're laughing jenny." "It's a story, said she, "I'm insulted,"and turned round with a stern face. I shook my tooleywagger. "How ill-tempered you look, come and feel this, and you'll be sweet-tempered at once." She turned round to the window again. "I will write my missus, - that I will." "Do dear." "My sister will be here directly." "You said she comes at dusk, it won't be dark for three hours." **I wish you would go, what will people say if they know you're here?" "Don't be uneasy, they will know no more than they know of your doings with your young man." "There is nothing to know about, but what is quite proper."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>So we stood. She looking out of the window, and turning round from time to time. I standing by the door with my prick out; then I approached her quietly. "Feel it Jenny, take pity on it." "Oh! for God's sake, sir, what are you doing?" She turned, and pushed me back, then retreated herself, keeping her face to the window as she stepped backwards. "Oh! there is Miss and Mrs. Brown walking in the next garden." Sure enough there were two ladies there; they could have seen everything close to the window over the low wall which separated the gardens; and bad they been lookIng, must have seen Jane, me, and my prick "Oh! if they have seen, they will tell my missus, and she'll tell my young man, and I shall be ruined, - Oh! - Oh! - Oh!" said she sinking back into an armchair with a flood of tears, half funk and shock, and perhaps randiness, causing it.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was alarmed. 'Oh!' she sobbed, if they saw you, ohhol - and it was no fault of mine, you're a bad man, oho, oho." She sat with her hands to her face, her elbows on her knees. I dropped on my knees imploring her to be quiet, was sure no one had seen me, and tried to kiss her. The position was inviting, I slid my hands up her clothes between her thighs, she took no notice, was evidently in distress, not even conscious of the invasion. A bold push, and my fingers touched her cunt. I forgot all in the intensity of my enjoyment, at feeling my fingers on the edge of the soft, warm nick. No repulsel I looked up, she sank back in the chair, seemingly unconscious and deadly white. I withdrew my hand, then came a mental struggle; my first impulse was to get cold water, the next to look at her cunt. I went towards the door, turned round to look at her. Her calves were visible, I ran back, and lifted her clothes, so that I could just see her cunt-hair, gave her thighs a kiss, and then rushed downstairs, got water, and as I entered the room she was recovering. She knew nothing, or next to nothing of what had occurred, nor that my fingers had touched her clitoris, though she had not actually fainted.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"I wish I had some brandy," she said, "I feel so weak." "Is there any in the sideboard?" "No." "I'll go and get a little." A few hundred feet from the house down a side-street, was a public-bouse. As I was going, "You will let me in again?" I said. "If you promise not to touch me." She looked so pale that I fetched brandy, but put the street-door key in my pocket as I went. "If she don't let me in," I thought, "she shan't have the key, and what will she tell her sister about that?" It was a key almost as big as a shovel; she never noticed that I had taken it away. She thought by her dodge that she had got rid of me, and told me so afterwards.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I brought back the brandy and knocked. "Let me in." "I won't." "Then you shan't have the street-door key." This was spoken to each, other through the closed door. A pause, then the door opened. "You are coming Jenny." We went downstairs into the kitchen, she had brandy and water, and so bad I. It was a hot day, the pumpwater was deliciously cool, I made hers as strong as she would take it, it was an instinct of mine. She got her colour back, and became talkative, we talked about her fainting, but she tried to avoid talking about it, and did not want me to refer to what had led to it. I did, and was delighted to think that it was owing to what is called "exposing my person."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>'I don t think the ladies saw it, so you need not have been so frightened Jenny, but you saw it, did you not?" No reply. "I saw you looking at it" "It's a story." "Why did you faint?" "I always feel faint if I am startled." "What startled your 'Nothing." You saw it, and you put your hand over it to hide it, and you touched it." "It's a story, I wish you'd go." "You ungrateful little devil, when I've just fetched you brandy." "It's through you that I felt ill" "Why?" No reply. "Don't be foolish, - it was for fear that the ladies should have seen my prick so near you, now look at it," and I pulled it out, it was not stiff. "It was twice the size when you saw it, feel it, and it will soon be bigger."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The girl rose saying she would go and remain in the forecourt till her sister came; if I did not leave, but I prevented her going out of the kitchen. She began to cry again, and had a little more brandy and water. My talk took its old channel. "Do you know how long you were fainting?" "I didn't faint, but only a minute or so." "Do you know what I did?" She was sitting down, then got upright, looked at me full in the face, her eyes almost starting out of her head. "What did you do -what? -what?-what?" She spoke hurriedly, anxiously, in an agitated manner. "I threw up your clothes, kissed your cunt, and felt it." "It's a lie, - it's a lie." "It's true, and the hair is short, and darker than the hair of your head, and your thighs are so white, and your garters are made of blue cloth, and I felt it, the dear little split, how I wish my belly had been up against it, what a lovely smell it has l" (putting my fingers to my nose).</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Ohol - ohol - ohol" said she bursting into tears, "what a shame to take liberties with a poor girl when she can't help herself, - obol -- ohol - you must be a bad man, - missus had no business to send you to look after me, as if she could not trust me, she don't know what sort of man you are, - and a gentleman too, - oho! - and married too, - it's a shame, - ohol - ohol 1 don't believe you though, - oho - o - o." And when I told her again the colour and the make of her garters, she nearly howled. "You mean man, to do such a thing when I was ill."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I kissed her, she let me, but went on blubbering. "I've a good mind to tell my young man." "That will be foolish, because you and I mean to have more pleasure than we have had, and he'll never be any the wiser but if you tell him, he'll think it's your fault." This had occupied some hours, it was getting dark, but it seemed only as if I had been there some minutes, so deliciously exciting are lascivious acts and words. The charm of talking baudily to a woman for the first time is such, that hours fly away just like minutes. I got her on to my lap and kissed her. She was so feeble that I put my hands up her clothes nearly to her knees before she repulsed them. Then I feared her sister coming home, she promised to hide the brandy, and we parted. She kissed me, and let me feel to her knees, to induce me to go. "Oh! for Gods sake sir, do go before my sister comes:' My last words were, "Mind you've felt my cock, and I've felt your cunt *Pray go,' and I departed, leaving her tearful, excited, and in a state of exhaustion which seemed to me unaccountable. Probably had I persisted a little longer I should have had her, such was the lassitude into which she had fallen;, but I felt that I bad made progress, and went home rejoicing, and forming plans for the future. When I had had some food, and thought over the matter, I came to the conclusion that I had been a fool in leaving her, and that had I pushed matters more determinately at the last moment, I should have certainly fucked her before I had left. I was mad with myself when I reflected on that, and the opportunity lost, which might not occur again.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Jenny had not fainted, but though unable to speak, resist, or indeed move, she must have been partially conscious. I think this from what I knew of her nature afterwards.</I></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 12.</I><I> When are women most lewd • Garters, money, and promises • About my servant • The neckerchief • Armpits felt • Warm hints • Lewd suggestions • Baudy language • Tickling • "Fanny Hill" • Garters tried • Red fingers • Struggle, and escape • Locked out • I leave • Baudy predictions, and verification.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I have a confused recollection of thinking myself the next day an ass, for having missed a good opportunity of permatizing a fresh cunt; yet for some reason or another it must have been three days before I went to try my luck again. I had about this time of my life begun to frame intentions, and calculate my actions towards women, although still mostly ruled by impulse and opportunity in love matters. My philosophy was owing to experience, and also in a degree to my friend the Major, to whom some years before I had confided my having commissioned a French woman to get me a virgin. He was older, poorer, and more dissolute than ever. "He is the baudiest old rascal that ever I heard tell a story," was the remark of a man at our club one night. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Ask him to dinner in a quiet way by himself, give him unlimited wine, and he would in an hour or two begin his confidential advice in the amatory line, and in a wonderful manner tell of his adventures, and give reasons why he did this or that, why he succeeded with this woman, or missed that girl, in a way as arousing and instructive to a young listener as could be imagined.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"If you want to get over a girl,' he would say, "never flurry her till her belly's full of meat and wine; let the grub work. As long as she is worth fucking, it's sure to make a woman randy at some time. If she is not twenty-five she'll be randy directly her belly is, filled, then go at her. If she's thirty, give her half-an-hour. If she's thirty-five let her digest an hour, she won't feel the warmth of the dinner in her cunt till then. Then she'll want to piss, and directly after that she'll be ready for you without her knowing it. But don't flurry your young 'un, talk a little quiet smut whilst feeding, just to make her laugh and think of bandy things; then when she has left table, go at her. But it's well," the old Major would say, "to leave a woman alone in a room for a few minutes after she has dined, perhaps then she will let slip a fart or two, perhaps she'll piss, she'll be all the better for the wind and water being out. A woman's cunt doesn't get piss-proud like a man's prick you know, they're differently made from us my boy, - but show any one of them your prick as soon as you can, it's a great persuader. Once they have seen it they can't forget it, it will keep in their minds. And a baudy book, they won't ever look at till you've fucked them? oh! won't they! they would at church if you left them alone with it" And so the Major instructed us.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>About three days afterwards, taking a pair of garters, two small showy neckerchiefs, and Fanny Hill with me, I knocked at the door. "Oh! you!," said she colouring up. "Yes, is everything right?" "Yesl all right, what should be the matter sir?" She stood at the street-door holding it open, though I had entered the hall. I turned, closed the door, and caught hold of her. "Now none of that pray sir, you insulted me enough last time." "I could not help it, you're so lovely, it's your fault, forgive me, and I won't do so any more, here is a sovereign, take it, kiss me, and make it up." "I don't want your money," said she sulkily. Take it, I give it with real pleasure, what I had the other day was worth double."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"I won't be paid for your rudeness, if that's what you mean." "Lord, my dear, I've no occasion to pay for that, I took it without pay, - I wish I could get .what I told you yesterday, I'd give ten times the sum." 'You are going on again." "Don't be foolish, take it, buy a pair of silk stockings." "I don't want silk stockings." 'Your plump legs would look so nice in them," and I forced her to put the money into her pocket. Then I got her to the parlour, to sit down, to allow me to kiss her, and then to talk about me and my "missus," as she called her, a subject which seemed to excite her, for she began asking me question after question, and listened to all I said with breathless attention about my daily habits, rows, and fast doings. Once I stopped at some question. "I won't tell you that." "Oh! do, do." 'No it's curious. "Do, do." It was about a pretty servant-girl whom I had noticed in my house. "It will offend you if I do." "No it won't "'yell give me a kiss then." </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She kissed me. She had stood up a moment, now she sat down again by me on the sofa. I went on with my story, every now and then I stopped till she kissed me, it came to a kiss every minute, as I sat with my arm round her waist, talking.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Said I, "It was a servant whom my wife turned out at a day's notice, a pretty girl, I had taken to kissing her, and then I nudged her somewhere you know. One night when she opened the door, I saw by the light that my wife was in our bedroom. 'Is your mistress upstairs?"Yes sir."And the cook?"Yes.' Then I closed with her. 'Don't sir, missus will hear.' I hugged her closer, shoved her up against the wall, got my hand on to her cunt, felt her, and gave her half a sovereign. How delicious it was to get the fingers on to the wet nick of that pretty girl, and say, 'How I should like to fuck that, Mary.'" I told it in words like that to Jenny, as she sat listening. At the word "fuck" up she got.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"You are a going or rude again." "You asked me." "Not for that" "But that's what I had to tell, what you kissed me to tell:' "I diddt think you would say rude things. "'Sit down, and I'll tell you without rude words." And so I did, telling all over again with additions, but instead of saying "cunt," "fuck," and so on, said, "I got iny hand you know where,"--"and then she let me you know what,"-"she was frightened to let me do, you guess what I wanted."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>'Luckily, though she foolishly told her fellow-servant, she did not say who had been feeling her. That sneak told my wife, who told me about it, or she knew, and said she could not keep such an improper girl in the house as that. 'But the other servant may have told a lie to spite her."Perhaps, but IT turn her out too,' - and so she did, both left."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Thus I talked to Jenny till I expect her quim was hot enough; then said I, "Here is a pretty neckerchief, put it on." "Oh! how pretty." "I won't give it you unless you put it on." She went to the glass and unbuttoned the top of her dress, which was made to button on the front. I saw her white fat bosom, she threw the kerchief round the neck, and tried to push it down the back. "Let me put it down, it's difficult." She let me. "You are not unbuttoned enough, it's too tight." She undid another button, I pushed down the kerchief, and releasing my hand as I stood at the back of her, put it over her shoulder, and down in front, pushing it well under her left breast. "Oh! what a lovely breast you have, let me kiss it."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>A shriek, a scuffle. In the scuffle I burst off a button or two, which exposed her breast, and getting my hand on to one of the globes began feeling and kissing it. Then I slid my hand further down, and under her armpit. "Oh! what a shame, don't, I don't like it." "How lovely, kiss, kiss, oh! Jenny what a lot of hair I can feel under here." "Oh!" screech, screech, "oh! don't tickle me, oh! oh!," and she screeched as women do who can't bear tickling. I saw my advantage. "Are you ticklish?" "Yes, oh! (screech, screech). Oh! leave off."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Instead of leaving off I tickled harder than ever. She got my hand out, but I closed on her, tickling her under her arm, pinching her sides, and got her into such a state of excitement, that directly I touched her she screeched with wild laughter; the very idea of being touched made her shiver. We were on the sofa, she yelling, struggling, whilst I pinched her, she trying to get away from me, but fruitlessly; I buried my face in her breasts which were now largely exposed, and she fell back I with my face on her, holding her tight. Then I put one hand down, feeling outside for her notch; that stopped her screeching, and she pushed me off as she got up.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I soothed her, begged pardon, spoke of the hair in her armpits, wondered if it was the same colour that it was lower down. Now she shammed anger, boxed my ears, and we made it up. I produced the garters. "Oh! what a lovely pair." "They're yours if you let me put them on." "I won't." "Let me put one half-way up." "No." "Just above the ankle." "No, my stockings are dirty." "Never mind." "No." Then she made an excuse, said she must see to something, and left the room. I thought she was going to piddle. She came back. I found afterwards she had been out to lace up her boots, they were untidy. It was coquettishness, female instinet, for she wanted the garters, and meant to let me try them on, though refusing. "Where do you garter, above knee?" "I shan't tell you. "I've seen, let me put them on below the knees." "No." "Then I'll give them to another woman who will let me." "I don't care." I threw the garters on to the table after some fruitless attempts. I was getting awfully lewd with our conversation.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Do you like reading?" "Yes." "Pictures?" "Yes." "I've a curious book here." "What is it?" I took the book out, The Adventures of Fanny Hill. "Who was she?" "A gay lady, it tells how she was seduced, how she had lots of lovers, was caught in bed with men, would you like to read it?" "I should." "We will read it together, but look at the pictures," this the fourth or fifth time in my life I have tried this manoeuvre with women. I opened the book at a picture of a plump, leering, lecherous-looking woman squatting, and pissing on the floor, and holding a dark-red, black-haired, thick-tipped runt open with her fingers. All sorts of little baudy sketches were round the margin of the picture. The early editions of Fanny Hill had that frontispiece.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She was flabbergasted, silent. Then she burst out laughing, stopped and said, "What a nasty book, - such books ought to be bumt" "I like them, they're so funny." I turned over a page. "Look, here she is with a boy who sold her watercresses, is not his prick a big one?" She looked on silently, I heard her breathing hard. I turned over picture after picture. Suddenly she knocked the book out of my hand to the other side of the room. "I won't see such things," said she. "Won't you look at it by yourself?" "If you leave it here I'll burn it." "No you won't, you'll take it to bed with you." There I left the book lying, it was open and the frontispiece showing. "Look at her legs," said I, for we could see the picture as we sat on the sofa; and I began to kiss and tickle her again.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She shrieked, laughed, got away, and rushed to the door. I brought her back, desisted from tickling and lewed talking, though I was getting randier than ever. "Now have the garters, let me put one round the leg, just to see how it looks, just half-way up the calf." After much persuasion, after pulling up my trowsers, and showing how a garter looked round my calf, she partly consented. "Promise me you won't tickle me." I promised everything.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I dropped on one knee, she sat on the sofa. "Put one foot on my leg." She put one foot there, and carefully raised her clothes an inch or two about the boot-top. "A little higher." She raised it holding her petticoats tight round the leg, and I slipped the garter round it "It's too loose, raise a little more." "I won't arty higher, I can see bow it looks." "Won't they look nice when they are above the kneel and won't your young man be pleased when he sees them there." "My young man won't see them any more than you will." "Let me slip on the other." The same process, the same care on her part. She bestowed all her care on the limb I was gartering, lest I should slip the garter higher up. The remainder of her clothes were loose round her other leg. Then I pushed my hand up her clothes and herself back on the sofa, relinquishing the leg I was gartering.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Rapidly my hand felt thighs, hair, cunt. How wet! What is this which catches my fingers? what is it they are gliding between? With a yell she pushed me away, and got up as I withdrew my fingers. She had a napkin on, my fingers were stained red. "Oh you beast," said she bursting into tears. I caught hold of her, and began to tickle her; she pushed me violently away, and escaping, rushed downstairs, slammed the kitchen-door in my face, and locked herself in. I have been accustomed to this behaviour on similar occasions.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I stood outside begging pardon, talking baudiness, I tried to burst open the door, and could not. I was not fond of poorliness in women, had a keen nose, and oftentimes could smell a woman if poorly, even with her clothes down; how it was I did not smell her, considering how near my nose had been to her split and her breasts, I can't say, but suppose randiness overcame my other senses. I played with my prick which was in an inflammatory state, feeling it made me much randier, I called through the door bow I wanted to fuck her, how my prick was bursting, how I would frig myself if she did not let me. "What a hard-hearted girl, I'll give you ten pounds to let me, who will know it, but you and me?" and a lot more; but it was of no use, and at length I went upstairs, determining to wait, and thinking that in time she might follow me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>On the sofa I sat thinking of what I had done. There lay one garter, I took it up, and rolled it round my pego, I rubbed the tip with it, thinking it might be a spell. I took up Fanny Hill, got more excited by reading the book, looking at its salacious pictures, and feeling my prick at the same time. Then the sense of pleasure got beyond control, and laying down the book on the floor just beneath me, where I could see a baudy picture, I turned on my side on the sofa, and frigged till a shower of spunk shot out.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then down I went. The door was still locked, my senses were calmed, but I talked baudy, and offered her money without a reply; growing tired I bawled out, 'I'm going, you will let me in a day or two, and get the ten pounds towards the new shop, you won't be so unkind when I come again." "I'll take good care never to let you in," said she. They were the only words I could get out of her. I went upstairs, took a slip of paper, and wrote on it, "I have wrapped the garter round my prick, it is a charm. Directly you put it on I shall know, for my prick will stiffen, you will put it on I am sure; and directly my prick stiffens, your curt will long to have it up it, even if I am miles away. You will put the garter on, for you can't help doing so, I'm sure to fuck you, neither you nor I could avoid it if we would. Why should we deny ourselves 'the pleasure, no one will know it, and you will be ten pounds the richer." I wrote that or something nearly like it, and charmed with my own wit, rubbed the garter over the top of my prick till I left the smell on it, then laid it on the table over the paper I had written, and went away, taking Fanny Hill with me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>It is a positive fact, that about two hours afterwards I had a violent randy throbbing in my prick, and found out later on that just at that very time she had put that garter on.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>[And now for the complete understanding of what follows, it it must be stated that the house was in plan nearly like that which I inhabited when I had my beautiful servant Mary. Kitchens in the basement, two parlours with folding doors between them, nearly always open; and rooms baek and front over the parlours; and that my absent friend did with those rooms whilst absent at the seaside, what was not unusual with people of their class in those days, lock most of them up, leaving only sufficient for the servant, or caretaker, to inhabit.]</I></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 13.</I><I> "Fanny Hill" sent to Jenny • My next visit • Thunder, lightning, sherry, and lust • A chase round a table • The money takes • Tickling and micturating • A search for "Fanny Hill," • A chase up the stairs • In. the bedroom • Thunder, funk, and lewedness • Intimidation and coaxing • Over and under • A rapid spender • Virginity doubtful • Fears, tears, and fucking.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I waited a few days to ensure her poorliness being over. I had not left her Fanny Hill; but why I cannot tell, for I knew how baudy books excited a woman. The night before my next attack I wrapped up the book, directed it to her, gave a boy sixpence to deliver it, hid myself by a lilac which was in the front-garden close to the road, and saw the boy give it to her, and go off quickly as I had told him. It was just dusk, and too dark inside the passage of the house to see; for Jenny stepped outside the house so as to get light, and stripped o$ the envelope. I saw also that she opened the book, closed it, looked rapidly on both sides, then stepped inside, and closed the door. I expect that her cunt got hot enough that night. I saw her sister who slept with her nightly, going through the front-garden soon afterwards, and Jenny open the door for her. I had then moved off to a safe distance, the other side of the road.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Jenny was fond of finery, and I had heard the old lady of the house declaiming about it. Her pleasure at the showy neckerchief and garters was great, so I bought a pretty brooch, and filling my purse with sovereigns determined to have her at any cost, for my letch for her had got violent. The next day I bad a good luncheon, went to the house just after her dinner-time, and took with me a bottle of sherry. I recollect the morning well. It was a sultry day, reeking with moisture; it had been thundering, the clouds were dark and threatening, the air charged with electricity. Such a day makes all creation randy, and you may see every monkey at the Zoological Gardens frigging or fucking. I was resolute with lustful heat, the girl was, I expected. under the same influence, and taking her as I did after a lazy meal, everything was propitious to me. How shall I get it? -if I knock she may not open; and if she sees me go up the front-garden she won't open. But I had to try, so walked up to the door, and gave one single loud tradesman's knock.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>There was a little porch and a shelter over the street-door. Standing flat up against the door, so that I might be hidden from her sight if peeping, l heard an upper window open. She looked out, but where I was she could not see me. There was delay, so again I knocked, and soon the door began to open, I pushed it and stepped in. The front-shutters on the ground-floor to my wonder were closed. "Hoh! Sir,-you," said Jenny amazed, "what do you want?" I pushed the door to, and caught hold of her. "I've come to have a chat and a kiss." She struggled, but I got her tight, and kissed as a randy man then kisses a woman, it is a magnetizing thing. "Oh! there it is again," she cried as a loud thunder-clap was heard, "oh! let me go,-oh! it do frighten me so." "Where are you going?" "Oh! into the parlour, I've closed the shutters." The girl was in a panic, and did not know what she said. The parlour-doer was open, the room nearly dark, which suited me. She went just in, and then turned round to go out, but I pulled her to the sofa. A flash of lightning showed even in the darkened room, the girl cowered and hid her face with her hands. I took her round the waist. "Shut your eyes, and lean your head against me." Mechanically she did, she was utterly unnerved. I felt down with my right hand the form of her thighs and haunches through her clothes. My prick began to stand. Pulling it out, and taking her near hand I put it round my prick just as the thunder roared. She kept her hand unconsciously on it for a time, then with a start took it away and jumped up. "Oh! it's wicked," said she, "when God Almighty is so angry, and just as she got to the .door a terrific flash made her turn round again. I caught her, and sitting down on a chair pulled her on to my knee; she hid at once her face on mv shoulder in terror.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Coaxing and soothing, and exciting her, in her fear she listened, at times twitching and oh-ing. I was sorry I had touched her cunt the other day I said. "Oh! now don't." "Feel my prick again, do dear." "Let me go, you've no business here." Another flash came, I put my hand up her clothes, the tip of my fingers just touched her quim. She struggled and got away, and in doing so upset the chair which fell down and broke. "Oh! now what will my mrssus say!" said she. Then a screech, and she got to the other side of the table.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>This went on a little longer, a gleam of sunshine came through the shutters. Then she opened one shutter, and said if I did not go she would open the window and call out. The light showed my pego, stiff, red-tipped and ready. "Look what your feeling has done for this Jenny," said I shaking my tooleywag at her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>But her resoluteness daunted me, so I promised not to do so again. "Here is some sherry that I was taking home to taste, let's have a glass, it will do both of us good after this thunder, you look white, and as if you wanted a glass." I had got out of her on a previous day that she liked sherry. "I'll go and get you a glass," said she. "No you shan't, you will lock the door," said I, I knew that was in her mind. No she would not. "We will go together then."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>We did, and returning to the parlour under my most solemn promise of good behaviour, down she sat, and we began drinking sherry. One glass, two, then another she swallowed. "No I dare not, it will get into my head, no more." "Nonsense, after your fright it will do you good." "Well half a glass." "Isn't it nicer: Jenny?" "It is." "Does not your sweetheart give it you?" "At Christmas, but only one glass." The sherry began to work. "Only another half-glass," and I poured it out nearly full. Soon after I got up after filling my own, and standing before her again filled up hers which she had sipped without her seeing me. "Finish your glass dear." "No I can't, it's making me so hot." "Just another half-glass." "I won't." But she began to chatter and told me again all about her young man, of their intending to open a grocer's shop when they had two hundred pounds; that he had saved a certain sum, and when he had a little more his father was to put fifty pounds to it. She also had put money in the savings bank. I got closer to her, and asked for a kiss. "Well I'll kiss you if you promise not to be rude again." A kiss and a promise. She was one of the simplest and most open girls I have ever met with, and once a half-feeling of remorse came over me about my intentions, whilst she was talking on quite innocently about her future; but my randy prick soon stopped that.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"What nonsense dear, your young man won't know that I have felt your thighs, and you my thing, nor any one else what we do, I have thought of nothing else since I touched you, kiss; now let me do it again, just feel it, only where my hand's been before, I swear I won't put my hand up higher, just above your garters, have you got those garters on?" "No." "Oh! you have." Well I have." "Let me just see." "I shan't." "I'll give you a sovereign to let me." "Shan't." I pulled out the sovereign, put it on the table, and spite of her resistance pulled up her clothes just high enough to see one garter; then clutching her round the waist I pushed my hands up, and touched a well-developed clitoris. She struggled, but I kept my hand there, kissed her rapturously, and frigged her; her cap fell off in her struggle. "Oh! I can't - bear - it - now - Sir; - I - don't - Oh! - like it, - Oh!" Then with a violent effort she got my hand away, but I held her fast to me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"What a lovely smell your cunt has," said I putting the fingers just withdrawn from her thighs up to my nose. I have always noticed that nothing helps to make a woman more randy than that action; it seems to overwhehn them with modest confusion; I have always done that instinctively to a woman whom I was trying. "Oh! what a man, Oh! let me pick up my cap." Just then I noticed her hair was short, and remarked it. She was annoyed, her vanity hurt, it turned her thoughts entirely. "Yes,' she said, "I had a fever two years ago, but it's growing again.' "Well it has grown enough on your cunt dear, did it come off there?" "Oh! what a manl -- Oh! now what a shamel" My hand was on her thighs again, and I managed another's minute frig, and kept her close to me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The heat had become excessive. What with struggling, and the excitement, sweat was on both our faces. Her thighs by her crack were as wet as if she had pissed them, her backside began to wriggle with pleasure, which I knew I was giving her; but again with a violent effort she freed herself from me, and as I put my hand to my nose she violently pulled it away. The sherry was upsetting her wisdom.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>'Where is the sovereign,' said I as she stood looking at me, 'that will help you." 'Don't want it" Seeing where her pocket-hole was I pushed it into it 'Oh! what a lucky sovereign, to lay so close to your cunt Jenny, and pushing my hand into her pocket I buched the bottom of her belly through the linen. Again a struggle, a then she put her hand into her pocket. "You are feeling your cunt Jenny," said I. "O-Oh!" said she taking it out quickly, "I was feeling for the money, I wont have it'</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then I kissed her till the sweat ran off my face on to hers. 'Oh! my goodness,' said she as it grew darker, "it's going to thunder again. 'Have another glass. 'No it's gone into my head already." But she took a gulp of mine. "Let's fuck you Jenny dear." What?' "Fuck.""Shan't." 'Oh! you know what I mean. 'No I don t, but it's something bad if it's from you." I pulled out my prick, and tried to push her on the sofa. She got away, and then with my prick out I chased her round the table. 'Leave off," said she, a joke's a joke, but this is going too far." She was getting levied, and was staring at my prick which showed above the table as I chased her. Quick as tie she managed to keep just' on the side of it opposite to me. "I'll swear I wod t touch you again if you will sit down" 'I won't trust you, you've been swearing all the afternoon." 'So help me God I will" said I, and meant it. "WeII then not when you are like that." I pushed my prick inside my trowsers, and then she sat down. What a long time this takes to tell, what repetition! but there are not many incidents I recollect more clearly.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then I took out ten sovereigns, all bright, new ones, laid them on the table, and then the brooch 'Do you like that Jenny?" "Yes." "It is for you if you will let me, and those ten sovereigns also.* 'You are a bad mai,' said the girl, "and would make me forget myself and be ruined, and without caring a bit,"-and she began rocking her head about, and rolling her body as she sat beside me, and looking at the money. "Who will know? you won't tell your young man, I shan't tell my wife, let me." 'I shan't,-never, --never,-never,-never, if it was fifty pounds,' said she almost furiously. "He would find it out 'Yes he would.' "Nonsense, half the servants do it, yet marry," and then I told her of some I had had who had married. 'No,-no, -no,' she kept repeating, almost bawling it out, as I told her Mary So-and-So who married a butler, and Sarah So-and-So who married my greengrocer, though I'd fucked them over and over again, "No,-no,' looking at the money; then suddenly she took up the brooch, and laid it down again.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Before running round the table after her, I had thrown of my coat and waistcoat. "It's so hot, rve a good mind to take off my trowsers," I had said; but I had another motive. She seemed weaker, and was so, for gradually she had got inflamed and levied by heat, the electrical condition of the atmosphere, the titillation of my finger on her seat of pleasure, and the sight of my stiff penis. She had I expect got to that weak, yielding, voluptuous condition of mind and body, when a woman knows she is wrong, yet cannot make up her mind to resist just then it came into my mind to tickle her; and then followed a scene which is one of the most amusing in my reminiscences.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She shrieked, and wriggled down on to the floor. I tried to mount her there. She kicked, fought, so that though once my prick touched her cunt-wig, I could not keep on the saddle. She forgot all propriety in her fuddled excitement, and whilst screeching from my tickling, repeated incoherently baudy words as I uttered them. 'Let me fuck you." "You shan't fuck me." "Let's put it just to your cunt." "You shan't,-you're a blackguard,-Oh! don't,-leave me alone, - well I will feel it, if you ll let me get up, - Oh! - her hil hil, for God's sake don't tickle, -- hil - I shall go mad, - you shan't, -- Oh! don't, - Oh! if you don't leave off." "I shall, - I must." 'Oh! pray, - you shall if you leave off tickling then, - Oh! don't pray, -Oh! I shall piddle myself,-her her" She was rolling on the floor, her thighs exposed, sometimes backside, sometimes belly upwards with all its trimmings visible. "Oh! it's your fault: and as she spoke actually piddle began to issue. I had my hand on her thigh, and felt and saw it.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Randy as I was I burst out laughing; and she managed to get up, began to push in her neckerchief which I had torn out of the front of her dress, and arranged her hair. 'Oh! look at me, if any one came, what a state I am in," said she looking in the glass, and there she stood her breast heaving, her eyes swollen, her mouth open, and breathing as if she had just ran a mile, but attempting nothing, saying nothing further, awaiting my attack. What randy, pleasurable excitement she must have been ia, though unconscious of it, whilst only thinking of how to prevent my fueling her against her will.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"You began piddling." "Didn't.** "I felt the piddle on my hand." She made no reply, but passed on, and wiped her face. When I add more she merely tossed her head. "Don't be a fool Jenny, -lot us,-you want it as bad as me.' Then I rattled out my whole baudy vocabulary, "prick," "cunt," "fuck," spunk, 'pleasure," "belly to belly," my balls over your use 'let my stiff prick stretch your cunt," everything which could excite a woman; to all of which she merely said, "Oh-oh-Oh!" and tossed her head, and never took her staring eyes off me, nor ceased swabbing up her perspiring face, and at the same time looking at my throbbing, rigid cunt-stretcher.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Finding she took to yelling, and even hitting me, I desisted a moment. "Where is the book I sent you last night?" I had till then forgotten it. That opened her mouth. "Have not had a book." "I saw the boy give it you, and you open it." "He didn't." "He did." "I burnt it, - a nasty thing, - I would not let my sister see it" Ar. angry feeling came over me for the moment, for I thought it probable, and should have had difficulty in replacing it. Then came an inspiration to help me, - a man always gets somehow on the right track to get into a woman if , he has opportunity. Nature wills it. The woman was made to be fucked, and the sooner for then, the better for them.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"You have not burnt it, - I'll bet it's in your bedroom, - in your box." "It Isn't." "I'll swear it's there, - you have been reading it all night, - I'll go up and see." She started as if electrified into life as I made for the door. She got there before me, and stood before me. "You shan't go, - you've no business up there, - I've burnt it,-it's not there." "It's in the kitchen then." "No, I've burnt it," she went on rapidly and confusedly. "I'll go and see," said I pulling her from the door, she screeching out, "No you shan't go up, - that you shan't, - you've no business there." Then I pulled up her clothes to her belly, she got them down, but still she kept her back to the door. I kept pulling her till her cap was off again, and felt sure she was getting weaker and weaker.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then she turned round suddenly, opened the door, and ran up the stairs rapidly like a lapwing, I after her. Once she turned round, "You shan't come up," said she, and tried to push me back; and then again on she went, I following. I stumbled, that gave her a few steps ahead; I sprang up three stairs at a time, recovered the lost distance, and just as she got into the bedroom, and slammed the door to, I put my foot in it, - it hurt me much. "Damn it, how you hurt my foot, I will come in," and pushing the door my strength prevailed; the door flew open, I saw her running round the bed, and there on the very pillow of the unmade bed lay Fanny Hill, open at one of the pictures. I threw myself across the bed, and clutched the book. She then stood motionless, panting and staring at me, she had clutched at it, and failed just as I caught it. She would have got it, but for having to go round the bed. I laughed. "Have you not had a treat Jenny dear!" Her face was a picture of confusion. I was stretched half across the bed, and now went right across. Then to escape me she ran away, and had nearly reached the door when throwing myself over the bed again I grasped her petticoats under her arse, and managed to pull her back. "Damned if I don't fuck you," said I, "by God I'll shove my prick up your cunt if I'm hanged for it," and pushing a hand up behind I clasped her naked buttocks. She turned round, I pulled her petticoats clean up, she yelling, struggling, panting, imploring. I dropped on my knees, kissed her belly, and buried my nose between her thighs. The petticoats dropped over my head, her belly kept bumping up against my nose and lips, which were covered with her cunt-moisture.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I rose up, pushed and rolled her against the bed, my hand still up her clothes. "Oh! don't, don't now, you are a great gentleman they say, and ought to think of a poor girl's ruin, if it was found out I should be ruined." "It won't darling," I had got my fingers well over the whole slit "Pray don't, well I'll kiss you, - there." "Feel it" "Will you let me get up if I do?" "Yes." "There then," and she felt me. "Oh! I must fuck you." "Oh! pray don't, - oh! let me go now, and I'll let you another day, I will indeed sir, - Oh! you hurt, - don't push your fingers like that," "Kiss me my darling." "You shan't" "Then there." Another struggle. "Oh! I can't be, .bear it" Her arse began to twist again, her head sank on my shoulder, her thighs opened; then with a start, "Oh! my God it's lightning (it began to thunder and lightning badly), oh! I'm so frightened, Oh! don't, another day, it's wicked when it's lightning so, oh! God almighty will strike us dead if you are so wicked, let me go into the dark, oh! don't, I can't be bear it." Her arse was shaking with my groping and frigging.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>'Now don't be a fool, damned if I don't murder you if you are not quiet!" "Oh! Oh!" I had got her somehow on to the bed, she was helpless; with fear, liquor, and cunt-heat. I threw myself on to her. A feel between thighs reeking with sweat, with her cunt in a lather, with the sweat dropping in great drops from my face, with sweat running down my belly on to my prick and my balls; I shoved. One loud "aha!" and my prick tip was up against her womb-door. A mighty straight thrust; and the virginity was gone at that one effort. Right up there with but a shove or two as far as I recollect, and without trouble, my sperm spouted directly my tool rubbed through the wet, warm runt-muscles. Then I came to my senses; where was I? had she let me, or had I forced her violently?</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She laid quietly under me with closed eyes and open mouth, panting; I was upon her, up her, pressing heavily upon her rather than holding her; then thrusting my hands under her fat bum I recommenced thrusting and fucking. She lay still, in the enjoyment of a lubricated cunt, distended by a stiff, hot prick. Soon she was sensitive to my moments, her cunt constricted, a visible pleasure overtook her, her frame began to quiver; and the soft murmurs of spermatic effusion came from her lips. She spent. On I went driving as if I meant to send my prick into her womb, fell into a half dreaminess, and became conscious of a great wetness on my ballocks; it was her discharge more than mine, the most copious I recollect, excepting from one woman. Then I dropped off on her side. She lay still as death, the thunder rolled over us unheeded by her in the delirious excitement and delight of her first fuck.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She turned on her side slightly, her thighs and backside were naked, she hid her face, and shuddered at the thunder unheeding her nakedness, then buried her face in a pillow, and so we both dozed for a minute or two. Her backside was still naked, when I looked at her in all ways as she lay, and saw traces of sperm on her thighs and chemise. A little lay on the bed, but no trace of red, no signs of a bloody rupture of a virgin cunt my shirt and drawers were spermed, but had not a trace of blood. The light fell full on her backside, I could see lightish brown hair in the crack of the parting of her buttocks; a smear of shit on her chemise. Her flesh was beautifully white. She had on nice white stockings, and the flashy garters, she had a tolerable quantity of hair on her quiet on the belly side. I sat at the side of the bed, got off boots, trowsers, and drawers; then laying down gently inserted my longest finger and delicately began rubbing her clitoris which I could see protruding of a fete crimson color. Then she moved; she was not asleep, but dazed by the fuck, far of the thing, the excitement, the hat, and the fumes of the wine combined.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She stared at me, pulled down her clothes, and tears began to run down her cheeks. What a lot of women I have had cry at such times! "Don't cry my darling." She turned on to her face, and hid it. For a quarter of an hour, I talked, but she did not answer. I told her she had spent, that I knew she had had pleasure. Then I pushed my fingers up her cunt; still she did not speak, but let me do just what I liked, keeping her eyes shut. So soon as my rammer was up to the mark, up her it went fucking, and again I felt its stem well wetted. She was a regular streaming spunker.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>After that, "I am going downstairs," said she. I'll come." 'No don't." "You only want to piddle.' Yes," said she faintly, "Piddle here, what will it matter?" 'I can't." "I'll go out if you won't bolt the door." "It's no good bolting the door, you have ruined me" I went outside, closed the door, and heard the rattle in the pot. When I re-entered she was sitting at the side of the bed crying quietly; she did nothing but look at me, but without speaking. 'Arrange yourself in case any one comes to the door." "No one will come." "The milkman?" "He will put it down inside the porch." She sat down the picture of despair. Never had I felt more lowed, I was mad that day with lewdness. "Let's feel your cunt," said I, "I have spent in it three times." "I don't care what you do, you may do what you like, it's of no consequence." I felt up her cunt, she hung her head over my shoulders whilst I paddled my fingers in the wet 'Don't hurt me," said she. "I have not hurt you." 'Yes you have." "Let's look." That roused her. "Oh! no, - no, - no, - you shan't 'Wash your cunt" I fetched the sherry, but she had not washed her cunt "You should wash it out" 'Oh? - Oh!" said she. 'If I should be with child, I shall never be married."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She drank more sherry, and promised to wash. Then I went downstairs, fetched up the brooch and the ten sovereigns, and gave them to her. "How shall I say I got it?" 'Does be know how much you have saved? 'Yes." "Is it a year's wages?" "Yes," and she began to cry again. "What stall I say about the brooch?" "That you bought it, let's lay down and talk." She yielded instantly, I threw up her clothes, she pushed them down. Then I lay feeling her quim, and got out her bobbies, she submitted, laying with her eyes closed, till my rubbing on her clitoris made her sigh. Then up her, I felt her wetting my prick-stem, and shot my sperm into her at that intimation of her pleasure.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>It was about seven o'clock, I had been nearly five hours at my amusements, and was tired; but had that day an irrepressible prick It began to stiffen almost directly it left her cunt. I went down with her to tea, there I pulled her on to my lap, and we began to look at Fanny Hill. I could not get a word out of her, but she looked intently at the pictures. I explained their salacity. 'Hold the book dear, and turn over as I tell you.' Then I put my fingers on her cunt again. How sensitive she was. "Let's come upstairs. 'No' said she reluctantly, but up we went, and fucked again. Then she groaned. "Oh! pray leave off, I'm almost dead, I shall have one of my fainting fits.' "Lay still darling, I shall come soon," but it was twenty minutes hard grinding before my sperm rose.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then she laid motionless and white through nervous exhausted by my excitement, and loss of her spermatic liquor, which I kept fetching and fetching in my long grinding. She told me afterwards that she could not tell how often she spent. I had never been randier or stronger, nor enjoyed the first of a woman more.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She was a most extraordinary girl. After the first fuck she was like a well-broken horse; she obeyed me in everything, blushed, was modest, humbled, indifferent, conquered, submissive; but I could get no conversation out of her excepting what I have narrated. She cried every ten minutes, and looked at me. After each fuck she laid with her eyes closed, and mouth open, and tamed on her side directly, putting her hand over her quiet, and pulling her clothes just over her buttocks. Then after I had recovered and began to talk a tear would roll down her cheek.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>About nine o'clock she said, 'Do go, my sister will be here, and the bed wants making. At the door I put her against the wall and rubbed as well as I could my flabby cock between her cunt. She made no resistance. "We'll fuck again to-morrow Jenny. I'll never let you again,' said she, "for you shan't come in," and she shut the door on me with a slam.</I></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 15. A sailor, a whore, and a garden-wall • The newly-made road • Windy and rainy • Bargaining overheard • Offer to pay • Against a garden-coal! • A feel from behind • A wet handful • Blind lust • Into the sperm • The policeman • A lost umbrella • A new sort of washing-basin • Fears of ailment.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Amidst all this saturnalia of cunt, I don't believe I ever did anything with one, excepting to feel and fuck it, though in attitudes varied. Recherche erotic pleasures were not in my custom, and not even in my thoughts. Amusements with a man would have shocked me, had they been suggested. His spunk would have upset my stomach to look at. To put into a cunt which another man had just quitted, would have revolted me; yet I was doomed to do all this, unpremeditatedly, on the spur of the moment and opportunity.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I lived then on the western outskirts of London where they were building on what had been and were still largely pleasant fields. About five minutes' walk from my house was a street made not five years before, and leading out from it a new road, a sixth of a mile long, connecting two main roads, and made to enable the fields on either side to be built upon. There were gas-lights at long intervals, just enough to encourage people to use it at night The carriage and footways were of coarse gravel, and quite newly made.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Under wheel and foot these roads crunched as people went across them. At one end of the road was a new row of houses, the garden back-walls of which abutted on the open fields, and the side walls of two formed the entrance to the road, both houses just then were empty.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>It was about eleven o'clock at night, windy and rainy at intervals, and there was a small moon hidden by thick clouds scudding across it Sometimes there was a gleam of light, at other times all was dark It was very windy as I came through the road for a short cut, after thinking whether it was safe or not, and just then I met a policeman at the further end, and bid him good night The crunching of my footsteps on the newly-laid gravel annoyed me, both by its fatigue and noise, so I stepped on to the meadow-land which lay alongside it, and walked quite quietly. As I neared the street into which it led, I could distinguish what looked like a man and woman standing on the footpath close up against the garden sidewall of the empty house, and well away from lamps. Thought I, 'Whey are fucking or finger-stinking,' so walked further from the footpath to prevent noise, and more slowly to see the fun. It excited me lewdly, for I wanted a woman.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>As I got near them I was under cover of the back garden-walls. The idea of catching a couple fucking made me more randy. "I won't, unless you give me the money first," said a female voice. I stopped, but heard no male reply. "I shan't then, what have you got?" the shrill voice said. No audible reply, but I saw a struggle as if a man was trying to lift a woman's clothes, and heard a laugh. Then I stepped on to the path, and walked on. "I shan't then, if you have no money what did you came here for?" came clearly on my ear, though said in a somewhat lower tone. Just as I came to the angle of the wall I saw plainly a fair-sized woman with her back against the wall and a shortish man in front of her, pulling her about as if he was trying to feel her, or lift her clothes. The amatory scuffing prevented them noticing my approach. The woman said as I neared them, "I won't without the money," and then was a hish as I walked on.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>What then occurred exactly I can't recollect, but I said as I was close to them, "Let him have you, and I'll give you five shillings." Alright, give it here then," said the woman. I stopped, and saw by the small light of the distant lamps that the man had the cap and open collar of a sailor. A desire sprung up quicker than I write this, and what I meant for a baudy joke became the reality of action, I followed my impulse without thought of consequences. "I'll give you five shillings if you let me see you do it" "All right," said she and to him, "Will you?" 'I'm right for a bloody spree," said a male voice almost inarticulate either from drink or cold. "Give me the money first." "Certainly, if you let him do it." 'Come round the back of the gardens," said the woman, walking off with the man to the rear, and well out of the line of road, I following. We stopped. "Give me the money." "Won't the policeman catch us?" "He won't be back for half an hour," said the woman, "he has just passed." I knew he had, having met him. We were now away from the lamps, it was dark. "Let's feel your cunt," said I getting into reckless baudiness. The man close to us kept chuckling to himself, and I thought staggering, but was not sure. He closed on the girl as I did. "Let me feel your cunt," said I. The girl lifted her petticoats, her back against a wall; I put my hand between her thighs, and met the man's hand on the same errand, we were both trying at the same spot. "Bloody spree," said a hoarse drunken voice. We both groped together. "One at a time," said she. I withdrew my hand, and it knocked against his prick. I laid hold of it, and believe to this day that the sailor thought it was the girl who was feeling it. I clutched it, and a strange delight crept through me as I drew my hand softly up and down his stiff stander which seemed longer than mine. "Hold hard you bugger," said he.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Excited beyond all thought, I still clutched and glided it through my hand. "Where is your prick?" said the girl. I felt her hand touching my hand. Letting his prick go, "No sham," said I. 'There is no sham," said she, "where is your money?" I put my hand in my pocket feeling for the money, took it out, and gave it her. 'Come on," said she to the man. Instantly they were close together. "Bloody spree," I heard mumbled again. "Lift up yer clothes, I can't feel yer arse." I felt that her clothes were up. I put my umbrella against the wall, grasped a thigh with my left hand, 'and my right went towards her quim, but was stopped by contact with the mans prick which was against her belly. "I'll put it in," said she. The next instant the to-and-fro movement had begun, I felt the wriggle of her arse-cheeks which I held with my left hand, his hands were now round her arse above mine, and under her clothes. 'It's out," said she, "stop, I'll put it in again" and all was still. His prick had slipped out through his energy. The woman guided it up again, and the backside jogging recommenced. I know what she said, I guessed much what she did from what she said. The buttock movement there was no mistaking.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>It was too dark to see. I heard him breathing hard, and felt her thighs quivering and wriggling. Changing sides and stooping, I pushed one arm and hand right round her buttocks, between her thighs from behind, and under her cunt till my fingers passed her arse-hole, felt his prick, and grasped his balls. I doubt whether he knew it, for his pleasure was making him blow like a man who had run himself out of breath. I felt his prick-stem as he drew back, and that it was wet with the moisture of her cunt. Then with hoarse muttering, of "blood-prick spunk, bloody cunt," I felt him shove and wriggle hard, and then both were stationary and silent. I kept my hand still groping under her cunt, and feeling his prick-stem from beneath, with my thumb and forefinger.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>He did not hurry himself to withdraw. "You've done, get away." "Let's fuck agin," said he. "You shan't." As she spoke, his prick flopped out right on to my hand, wetting it. She moved away, the man swore. Mad now with lust, "Let's feel your cunt," said I lifting her clothes. She let me. "My God what spunk, how soft your cunt feels, let him fuck you again, I'll give you more money, feel me, frig me." I don't recollect the girl speaking, but she seized my prick whilst I groped up her cunt with fingers saturated with sperm. No disgust now. For the moment I loved it. She stopped frigging. "Put it in me, it's nicer." "No." "Oh! it's all right, it's nice, put it in." "No." "Do, I want a fuck." "You've just been done." "You do it" I yielded, and putting my prick into her reeking cunt fucked her. "Oh! I'm coming." "So am I. 'Oh - ah - ah" I spent, and think she did, am not sure; but she shagged hard, and squeezed me up to her. The sailor had taken my place, and was looking on I suppose, standing with his back against the wall, mumbling something.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>As my pleasure subsided I could just see the man by the side of us working away, I suppose at his prick, with his fist like a steam engine, I felt the sperm oozing on to my apparatus, all round. "Let's fuck yer agin," said the hoarse man's voice. "I'll give you money to let him," said I. Out came my prick. "All right," said she, "let me piddle first." "Where is your prick?" I said, "does it stand?" "Bloody fine." I put my hand on it, and grasped it. A new desire and curiosity about a male organ came over me. The woman had pissed, and was standing up, she caught hold of my prick which was hanging out, whilst I had hold of his prick. Then I took out money, and gave all the silver I had, I don't know how much. "Put it into her," I said, frigging it; it was not stiff, and I was impatient to feel him fucking again. He turned to her front. "Let go my prick," said he. The girl took it. "It's not stiff." "Bloody some thing," I heard him say. Again I heard the rustle of the frig and of her clothes lifted. "Your cunt's bloody sloppy," said the husky voice, and he chuckled. "Make haste," said the woman. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Oh! the policeman!" Half-way down the road I saw, the bull's-eye of the policeman's lantern. I was now standing feeling my own prick with excitement; but at the same instant a glimpse of moon light came from between the heavy clouds, and showed me the man pressing his belly up against the woman, and her petticoats bunched up high. The policeman's bull's-eye far off was throwing light across the fields. "The police!" I said. "Come further along," said the woman dropping her clothes, and moving off still further into darkness, I moving off in the direction of the road. My lust went off, what if the policeman saw and knew me! I got to the road, turned to the left along the crunching gravelled path, walking very quickly, and so soon as I turned the corner took to my heels, and ran hard home, ran as if I had committed a burglary.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Letting myself in with my latch-key I found I had left my umbrella behind me. Then a dread carne over me. I had fucked a common street nymph, and in the sperm of a common sailor, both might have the pox, what more probable? I could feel the sperm wet and sticky round my prick, and on my balls. I had then taken to sleeping in my dressing-room. My wife I thought must have been, according to habit, an hour abed. On entering my room there sat she reading, which was a very unusual thing. I sat down wishing she would leave the room, for I wanted to wash and wondered what she would say if she saw me washing my prick at that time of night, or heard me splashing. But she didn't stir, so taking out the soap unobserved, "I've had diarrhoea," I said, and down I went to the water-closet. Sitting there I washed my prick well in the pan, and went upstairs again. (How many times in my life has a sham ailment helped me?-how many times yet is it to do so?)</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Fear of the pox kept me awake some time. Then the scene I had passed through excited me so violently, that my prick stood like steel. I could not dismiss it from my mind. I was violently in rut. I thought of frigging, but an irrepressible desire for cunt, cunt, and nothing but it, made me forget my fear, my dislike of my wife, our quarrel, and everything else, and jumping out of bed I went into her room. "I shan't let you, what do you wake me for, and come to me in such a hurry after you have not been near me for a couple of months, I shan't, you shan't, I dare say you know where to go."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>But I jumped into bed, and forcing her on to her back, drove my prick up her. It must have been stiff, and I violent, for she cried out that I hurt her. Don't do it so hard, what are you about!" But I felt that I could murder her with my prick, and drove and drove, and spent up her cursing. While I fucked her I hated her, she was but my spunk-emptier. "Get off, you've done it, and your language is most revolting." Off I went into my bedroom for the night. What I said whilst furiously fucking her, thinking of the sailor's prick and the spermy quiet of the nymph, and almost mad with excitement, I never knew. I dare say it was hot.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>For a fortnight I was in a state of anxiety, and twice went to a doctor to examine my prick, but I never took any ailment. I went early next day to see if my umbrella was in the fields, but it was gone. I wonder who had it. I never saw the woman again that I knwv of, but had I seen her five minutes after the event I should not have known her, nor the sailor. He seemed to me a young man of about twenty, groggy and hoarse with cold, his prick seemed about the size of my own. She was a full-sized woman with a big arse, but flabby,</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Though I could not find my umbrella I saw the spot on which it had stuck into the wet turf, and the place where we had played, for a yard or two square was trodden into mud, whilst all around was green.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>After I had got over my fears I had a very peculiar feeling about the evening's amusement. There was a certain amamt of disgust, yet a baudy titillation come shooting up my ballocks when I thought of his prick. I should have liked to have felt it longer, to have seen him fuck, I'd have fagged him till he spent. Then I felt annoyed with myself, and wondered at my thinking of that when I could not bear to be close to a man any-here, I who was drunk with the physical beauty of women. The affair gradually faded from my mind, but a few years after it revived. My imagination in such matters was then becoming more powerful, and giving me desire for variety in pleasures with the sex, and in a degree, with the sexes.</I></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 16. A big maid-servant • A peep up from below • Home late, dusty and stupid • Chastity suspected • Consequences • Dismissed • My sympathy • The soldier" lover • Going to supper • At the Cafe de'PE*r**e • In the cab returning • Wet feet • On the seat • Mutual grasping and gropings.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I have forgotten to say that I had been again much better off, but my extravagance had to draw in, and now lived in a larger house, but kept only three servants. During the latter part of the time of my liaison with Mrs. Y***s***e we had for a month or so but one servant. A charwoman came to do rough work; but why this temporary arrangement took place need not be told.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She was a big country woman quite five feet ten high, and speaking with a strong provincial accent. When she was alone in the house I used to cross the streets to see her kneel, and clean the door-steps. She had such a big arm, and her bum looked so huge that I wondered how much was flesh, and how much petticoats. She cleaned the windows on the ground-floor, which in the house I then inhabited were got at by an iron balcony with open bars beneath. Seeing her cleaning them one day I went stealthily to the kitchen, and then into the area, and peeping cautiously up her petticoats, saw her legs to her knees. They were big and suited to her buttocks; but though the sight pleased me much, I never thought of having her, for I avoided women in my own house and neighbourhood. She was plain-faced, sleepy, and stupid-looking; the only thing about her nice, was bright rosy flesh She looked 'solid all over'. Iler hair was a darkish chestnut colour, her eyes darkish, and one day she lifted a table as heavy as herself. There was not the slightest amorousness in her face or manner, and she dressed like a well-to-do country woman. Give her lots of nice, good, white underclothing; it was better than a sham outside, I heard she had said. She was about twenty-two years old, but she looked older.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>About two months after She came (and just then when without other servants), on arriving home one Sunday night at about ten o'clock, I found she had been allowed to go out as usual, but had not returned. Another hour crept on. Savage, I thought of locking her out. About half-past eleven she returned. I let her in, and asked why she was so late. She looked dazed, muddled, had a very red face, muttered she was sorry, she had fallen down and hurt herself, and without waiting to answer me properly went downstairs. My wife went after her, and when she came up, told me she thought she was in drink, and that her dress and bonnet were covered with dust. "She had been up to some tricks with a man," said she.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Next day I heard she had told as an excuse, that as she was walking along a lane up which she turned to piddle, a man laid hold of her, and had taken liberties with her; that in the scuffle she had fallen down; had screamed, tried to catch him, had failed, and a lot more to similar effect. One or two days later I was told the woman had been dismissed. That I quite expected, for it was the mistress' custom to coax out the facts from poor devils in a kind way, and then to kick them out mercilessly; any suspicion of unchastity was enough for that. Middle-aged married women are always hard upon the young in matters of copulation.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"What is she going for? a few days ago she was so beautifully clean, strong, and serviceable that none were like her!" "Oh! she has got a sweetheart, and is up to no good with him I'm sure." "How do you know?" "She told me so." "It's hard to dismiss on suspicion only, a poor girl who came up to us from the country." "You always take the part of those creatures." "I know nothing for or against her, nor you." "She is no better than she ought to be. I have noticed a soldier idling about here for some time past." "As you like, it's your business, but she came to us with an excellent character."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I pitied the woman, but more than that from the time I heard that a man had assaulted her, a slightly lecherous feeling had come over me towards her. I wondered what he had done, had he felt her? had he fucked her? had she ever been fucked before, even if the man had recently done it to her? I began looking closely at her, getting in the way on some pretext or another, and always wondering if this and that had been done. I looked at the broad backside, so broad that a prick must look a trifle by the side of it. "Have the male balls banged up against it?" I thought. When I heard of her being turned adrift I thought I would just like to have her once or so, and that her leaving us gave me a chance. Curiosity was I believe at the bottom of my desire for her, it was her huge fleshy form, and that spanking arse. Oh! to look at it naked, and feel it, if I did nothing more.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Finding the charwoman was not coming one day, and that the big servant would be a short time alone in the house, home I went; and on some pretext went down to the kitchen. "So you are going to leave us." "Yes sir." "Why?" "I'm sure I don't know, Missus says I don't suit, yet only a few days ago she said I suited well. Here she broke into tears. I spoke kindly to her, said she would get another place soon, she must take care not to go up dark lanes again with a man, nor go home late and dirty. She could not help it, it was no fault of hers. What liberties did he take with her? I asked. The woman coloured up, and turning her head away, said he did what was very improper. "Did he put his hands up your petticoats?" "What was very improper," she repeated. But how did you get so dirty?" They struggled, and she slipped. "I wish I'd been him, I'm sure when he felt, he got his hand close up, I'd give a sovereign to have mine there." That remark threw her into a distressing state of confusion, I talked on decently, alluding to what I thought had taken place, and wishing I had been the man; but got nothing from her excepting that the man had taken liberties with her, yes most improper liberties.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I told her I was sorry she was going, and thought she was hardly used, but I could not help it, how was she off far money? Very badly off, she had come straight from the country to better herself, and had bought nice, good, underlines, knowing she was coming to a gentleman's house, and now before she could turn herself round she was sent off. She had had to pay for her coach to London, and when she had her wages, and paid for a cab to lodgings, she would not have twenty shillings left. What was she to do if she could not get another place? Here the big woman blubbered, left off cleaning, sat down on a chair, and hid her face.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>'Don't cry, you're used badly, I'll give you a little money until you get a place, it won't be long." "You're a good kind master," said she, "everyone says so, but Misses is a beast, she ain't no good to any one, I don't wonder you are out so much, and don't sleep with her." I gave a kiss and a coddle. "What lovely limbs you have, how firm your flesh is, you are delicious, I should like to sleep with you, come into the lane with me, and tell me when you are going to piddle again, and let me take a liberty." "Who told you I went up the lane?" "Your mistress," and then I left, telling her on no account to let it be known that I had been home.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>After this I heard that she had said it was a soldier. Now I knew that a soldier who took liberties with a woman, took no little ones, and generally get all he tried for; so made up my mind that she had been fucked on the night she came home late.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>A day or two after I was surprised with the following. 'I've got another servant; she will come the day after to-morrow, so I mean to send Sarah away at once, of course she will be paid her month's wages, but I shall get rid of her, for I am sure she is an unchaste woman."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Poor devil it's enough to make her unchaste, but it's your business." "Are you going out to-night?" "Why?" "Because if you are I'm going round to my sister's." "I am," and off I went after dinner; but waited in a cab not far from the end of the street, watching to see if she really did go out. She did, and directly I spied her I drew myself back, and told cabby to follow her to the sister's house. Then I drove back part of the way, and went home.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"So you are going?" said I to the servant. "Yes, I'm turned out, sir." "A soldier and you went up a dark lane, what a fool to tell your mistress." "Ah! she has told you, what a bad un, she sneaked it out of me, but I'm not to blame, he is my sweetheart, and is going to marry me." "Have you got lodgings?' "Yes sir, I'm going out to-morrow to see them, and I've written telling my sister (a servant also), and she has taken them." "Wait for me when you go, and on no account say I've been home, I mean to help you, you are badly used, what can I do for you?" "If you would help me to go to the Tower, my young man's name is ***** ', he is a Grenadier, I've written him, but he has not replied, and I want to know if he is there." "I will wait for you to-morrow night outside, when you go to see the lodgings." A kiss, a hug, and out of my house I went again, after having ascertained where she was going to, and the time she was to go out.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Next evening I waited outside her lodgings, He came in a cab with her box, and told me that her mistress had bundled her out, She had had nothing to eat since mid-day, and was sick and weary. "Make haste then, arrange your things, and we will go and have something to eat, and you shall see your soldier to-morrow." "God bless you, I do feel grateful sir," said she.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>In half an hour she came out. I did not know where better to go to, and knew that it was just the time when the place would be empty, so took her to the Cafe de l'Europe in the Haymarket. It was a long drive, but I wanted to be with her in the dark cab. She was wonderfully struck with the place, but I was ashamed of being seen with her. She was anxious to go home early, because she lodged with poor people who went to bed early. She had never tasted champagne, so I gave her some. Oh! her delight as she quaffed it, and Oh! mine as I saw her drink it, it was just what I wanted. "A cock has been into her I am sure," I thought, "so another can't do her much harm, if she'll fuddle she'll feel and be felt, or fuck, or frig, they always go together; my old instructor in the ways of women used to say.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I arranged to take her the next day to the Tower; our talk naturally was about the affair. "He did it to you," I said. She wouldn't or didn't see my meaning. "I could not help it if he did, or what he did, he took unproper liberties." "He took them more than once, bed" She did not like such joking, she remarked. All this was when we were going out to supper.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Going home in the cab I began to say a baudy word to her. 'He felt your cunt: said I, "did you feel his prick?" She bounced up and hit her bonnet against the top of the cab. "Oh! myl sir," but she kept on in her excitement, letting out bits of the history, saying at intervals, it was not her fault, she was fuddled, fuddled with beer and gin, --a little fuddled her. I saw that pretty clearly from the effect of the champagne; and unbuttoned so as to have my prick handy. It was a wet night, the bottom of the cab was wet straw. "My feet are quite wet,' said she. "Put them on the seat, my dear." She did so; I felt them as if solicitous for her comfort, putting my hand higher than above her ankle, just to see if her ankles were wet also.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Why your ankles are wet. "Yes they are." With a sadden push up went my hand between her thighs, -a yell and a struggle, but I had felt the split before she dislodged my fingers. She was stronger than me, but my hands roved about her great limbs, searching under her petticoats round her huge backside. "Oh! don't, you're a beast." 'Ah! what a backside! what thighs! what a lovely cunt Tm sure you have! let me keep my hand just on your knee, and I swear I won't put my hand higher." To ensure my keeping my hand there, she held my wrist as well as a vice would have done. She had by sheer force got it down to there.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I pattered out all my lust, my desire to have her, incitements, and baudy compliments on her form. "Let me fuck you." "You shan't." "You know what it means." "I know what you mean." "What harm could I do? who would know?" And then the old; old trick. Taking her great fist in mine, I put my stiff prick into it. What a persuader! Though she kept up a show of struggling she did not get it away from that article instantly.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I suppose unless utterly distasteful to each other, that a man and woman cannot feel each other's privates, without experiencing reciprocal baudy emotions. They get tender to each other. The woman always does, after she has got over the first shock to her modesty, and her temporary anger. If after a man has felt her, a thermometer could be applied to her split, I believe it would be found to have risen considerably in temperature. After struggling and kissing, trying to feel her quim, trying to keep my hand on her thighs, it ended in our having our mouths together and my hand being pinched between her two great thighs, whilst the knuckles of one of her hands, with sham reluctance touched my doodle, just as the cab reached her dwelling, and there we parted. All the rest of our conversation was about her soldier, her being dismissed, and is not worth writing.</I></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 17. The next day • At the Tower • In tears • "The wretch is married." • At T******d Street • After dinner • On the chamberpot • My wishes refused • An attack • Against the bed • A stout resistance • I threaten to leave her • Tears and supplications • On the sofa • Reluctant consent • A half-virgin.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Next day she met me early, and we drove to the Tower. On the road I instructed her what to do when there (it was full six miles off). I tried my best to get her passions up in a delicate way, but amatory fingerings I avoided whilst the poor woman was in search of her, lover. The feeling of each other's privates on the previous night, had opened her heart to me. She let out a little more of the history of her escapade with the soldier, and asked my advice how to act in certain eventualities, which could only be applicable to a woman who had been rogered. She was painfully anxious as she approached the Tower.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I stopped in the cab just in sight of the entrance, and liter instructing her carefully again who to ask for, and what to do, in she went. In half an hour she came back with wet swollen eyes, got into the cab, and began to bellow loudly. The cabman had opened the door for her, and stood waiting for orders. For a few seconds I could get nothing out of her, then told the cabman to drive to a public house near. There I gave her gins but still, could learn nothing. All she said was, "Oh! such a vagabond!" Into the cab again. I told the man where to drive to, for I had laid my plans. "Tell me, it's not fair after all the trouble I've taken not to tell me,"-sob-sob -sob. Soon after it all came in a gush. 'Yes he was there, that is, he was two days ago," but the regiment had gone to Dublin, and would not be back far eighteen months, a letter would be sent him of course, but his wife would be there in a day, for, - "Oh! - bob! -hoh! -the wretch is a married man, and he's deceived me." "You should not have let him do it" "I didn't mean to." "You let him do it more than once I'll swear." "He did it twice to me, when in the house, he swore he'd marry me three days after, if I let him, and so I did, - ho! - her - hol"</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Thus I heard in snatches the whole history, which she told me more plainly afterwards. She had been fucked twice on the eventful night, once on the ground in a lane, and once in a bedroom.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I drove to T' "f" **d Street where I used to meet Mrs. Y* - 's"'e. It was not much more than mid-day. I got a comfortable little sitting-room, out of which was a large bedroom. A dinner was sent in by an Italian restaurant close by. After her first grief had subsided, the wine cheered her, and she made a good dinner, talking all the time of her "misfortune." When we had finished for a while I sat caressing her. Then I said, "I want to piddle," and pulling my prick out before her went into the bedroom and pissed. "Don't you want to?" "No." "Nonsense, do you suppose I don't know? now go'" She went into the bedroom. I quietly opened the door ajar directly she had closed it. There was she sitting on the pot, one leg naked, adjusting her garter, and pissing hard.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then raising her clothes that side she scratched her backside in a dreamy fashion, looking up at the walls. The rattle of her piddle went on. She had been out all the morning, had had gin and champagne, and her bladder must have been full. The side she scratched was towards me. She finished piddling, but still she sat scratching her rump. Then rising she turned round, looked in the pot, put it under the bed, pushed her clothes between her thighs, and looking round saw me at the half-opened door. She gave a start, I rushed up to her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"What lovely thighs, what a splendid bum" (though I hadn't seen it). "What a shame, you've been looking at me. 'Yes my darling, what a lot you have pissed, what a bum, I saw you scratch it, let's feel it, I did last night, and you know what you felt.' I got my hands on to her naked thighs, pushing her bum up against the bedside . "What a shame to think you have been looking, leave me alone, pray do, now you shan't, no you shan't!</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I closed with her. I had pulled my stiff-stander out. I shook it at her. "Look at this my darling, let me put it in you, up your cunt " "No, leave off, I won't, I have had enough of you men, you shan't."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>For a long time the game went on, I begging her to let me have her, she refusing. We struggled and almost fought. Twenty times I got her clothes up to her belly, my hand between her thighs. I groped all round her firm buttocks, and pinched them, grasped her cunt-wig, and pulled it till she cried out. All the devices I had used with others, all I could think of, I tried in vain. Then I ceased pulling up her clothes; but hugging her to me besought her, kissing and coaxing, keeping one of her hands down against my prick, which she would not feel, but it was useless. Then stooping and again pulling up her petticoats, letting loose every baudy word that came into my mind, - and I dare say the choicest words, - I threw myself on my knees, and butting my head like a goat up her petticoats, got my mouth on to her cunt, and felt her clitoris on my lips; but I could not move her. She was far stronger than me. Then rising I tried to lift and shove her on to the bed. I might as well have tried to lift the bed itself. I tried to drag her towards a large sofa, big enough for two big people to lay side by side, and made for easy fucking. All was useless. Her weight and her strength were such that I could not move her. There she stood with her backside against the edge of the bed, her hair getting loose, one of her stockings pulled by me down to her ankle, and the upper part of her dress torn open, but no, she would not let me. She was frightened, she would not, I was as bad as the soldier. In the excitement she no longer cared about her legs showing to her knees, but her cunt she fought for, and get my prick against it I could not.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>So we struggled I don't know how long, and then breathless, fatigued, I got into a violent rage, - a natural rage, not an artificial one,-and it told as brutality often tells with a woman. We stood looking at each other. She kept one band on her clothes just outside her quim, as if to defend it I with my prick out, felt defeated and mortified. I had been so successful with women, that I could not understand not getting my way now. "You damned fool," I said, 'I dare say fifty have fucked you, and you make a sham about your damned cunt, and your fears, what did you come here for?" She opened her eyes with astonishment at my temper.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>'I didn't know I was coming here, I didn't know you meant me to do that, you said you'd be kind to me, and give me something to eat, sir, I'd not eaten since last night, you said you would be kind to me, sir.' It was said in the deferential tone of a servant. 'So I will, but if I'm kind, you must be kind to me, why should it be all on one side?"I'm sure I don't know,' she whimpered. 'You know he fucked you, and I dare say a dozen others have." 'No one's ever done it but he, and he only did it twice said she bleating. 'Let me.' 'No I won't, I'm frightened to. "'Go and be damned.' I put in my prick which had drooped, went into the adjoining room, put on my hat and coat, took up my stick, and returning to the bedroom, there was she so with her, arse against the bed. She started up when she saw me dressed to go out.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>'Oh don't leave me here alone sir, you, won't, will you? 'Yes I shall, you can find your way out. 'Oh let me go with you sir:" I shan't, nor see you again, why should I? you won't let me have you, not even feel you!'</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I would let you, but I'm frightened, I've got my-living to get, and I've been ill-treated enough by that vagabond, I didn't think you brought me here for that 'What did you think then?' I didn't think about it at all, I was all along thinking of him.' "You didn't think of him when I felt your cunt in the cab last night, good-bye.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Oh! stay only a minute, do stay sir, don't leave me here.' She still stood against the bed. 'Will you let me? what a fool you are.''Oh don't call me names, I would, but I'm frightened, I've got my living to get. Haven't you been fucked?" 'Yes, she sobbed out, 'but it wasn't no fault of mine, I was all fuddled and she blubbered as loud as a bull.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>A sentiment of compassion came over me, for I never could ban to see a woman cry. I threw off my hat and coat, and going up to her as she stood, kissed her. "There then, let me feel your cunt, that can't hurt you."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She did not struggle any more. I lifted her clothes, and placed my fingers on her quim. I frigged hard at the right spot, but , could get my fingers no further towards the sacred hole. Her massive thighs shut me off from the prick tube as closely as if it had been a closed door- I could not get my hand between them.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>But my fingers were between the cunt-lips, twiddling and rubbing. "Don't cry, you'll let me I know, who will know but we? I fetched a tumbler of champagne from the sitting-room, and she took it like a draught of water. Up went my hand again, and with fingers rubbing her clitoris we talked and kissed side by side. Then turning myself more towards her, up went my other hand round her big bum, which felt as hard, and smooth, and cold as marble.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>This went on a long time. She began gradually to yield when she felt the effects of titillation. She then grasped my fiery doodle. Then frigging her harder, her head dropped over my shoulder, and I got my fingers under the clitoris, and there to the hole. "Oh! (a start) you are scratching me, you're hurting me there."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Taking away my hand. "Come here, don't be foolish," said I, "let us do it, you will enjoy it, come," and I pulled her. Her big form left the bed, and slowly she came with me to the sofa. "Sit down, there, dear, kiss me, put up your legs, there's a darling." Slowly, but with much pushing and begging there at last she lay, and the instant she was down I threw her petticoats up, and myself on to her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I saw the great limbs white as snow. A dark hairy mass up in her thigh-tops. "Oh! don't hurt." "Nonsense I don't." "You do indeed,-chi." My hands are roving, my arse oscillating, I'm up a cunt, all is over, she is fucked, "Did you have pleasure (I always asked that if I had doubt), answer me, did you? do say, what nonsense to hold your tongue, tell me." "Yes I did, after you had done hurting me." "Did I really hurt you?" "Yes." "Impossible." "You did." What a sham, I thought to myself, a woman always is, a Grenadier has fucked her twice; yet she says my prick hurts her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I turned off on my side, the sofa being large enough. We had done the trick, and the recklessness of the woman who has tasted the pleasure, and feels the man's spunk in her quim, had come ever her. The champagne added its softening influence. She pulled her dress half-down, we laid and talked. I felt her quim. "Don't." "What is it?" "I'm sore." "Why, you are bleeding." "You've hurt me." Out stood my prick, then rose upright again in a moment. Her blood on my finger and her pain gave me a voluptuous shiver. My trowsers were in my way. I tore them off, and stood by her side. 'Let me see your cunt' She resisted, but I saw her big thighs closed, and the dark haired ornamentation. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then getting between her thighs kneeling, I pulled open the lips from which blood stained sperm was oozing; then I dropped on to her, and again drove my prick up her. A glorious fuck it seemed as I clutched her huge, firm buttocks, and felt her grasping me round my arse All women, and even girls without any instruction put their arms round the men who are tailing them, the first time they feel the pleasure. Then we dozed in each other's arms. Then we got up, she confused, I joyous and filled with cautious baudiness. 'Wash, won't you? 'You go then.' I did, but back I went soon. She had just sluiced it. 'You are not bleeding:"I am a little. "You are poorly.' I am not'</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I brought her back into the sitting room. We drank more wine, she got fuddled, not drunk, or frisky, or noisy, but dull, stupid, and obedient. We fucked again and again, and stayed at the baudy house, drinking and amusing ourselves till nine. How that big woman enjoyed the prick up herl And the opening of her cunt opened her heart and month to me as well.</I></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 18. The big servant's history • The soldier at the railway station Courting • In the village lane • On the grass • At the pot-house • Broached partially • Inspection of her privates refused • Lewd abandonment • Her first spend • A night with her • Her form • Sudden effects of a looking-glass • The baud solicits her • Sexual force and enjoyment • She gets a situation • We cease meeting • The butcher's wife • An accidental meeting • She was Sarah by name.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>This was her history. As she came up from the country to us, her box was missing at the station. A big soldier seeing she was a stranger made some enquiries for her, saw her into a cab, invited her to have a glass of gin, which she took, and told him the place she was coming to. The next night be showed himself there, be made love to her, wrote to her, met her on Sunday nights, and at other times when allowed to go out. He offered to marry her, and she had written to her sister to tell her about it all.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>On the notable Sunday night, he took her to a tavern, and they had gin and beer till she was fuddled. She knew partially what she was doing, and thought it unwise to go up the lane in the dark with him; yet spite of herself she did. He would marry her that day month, then they would sleep together. He cuddled and kissed her, then began to take liberties. She resisted. Then if she would not let him, she might go home by herself, - why not let him? when soon they would be one in holy matrimony, and so on. She felt as if she could not struggle. He tried to get into her upright against some railings: Then asking her to lay down on the grass, and she refusing, he pulled her down, and got on to her. She struggled and cried, but felt so frightened, that he seems to have had his way.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>For all that, he did not, she thought, broach her, he pushed and hurt her, and must have spent outside, she could not be at all certain about that. Steps were heard, they got up, she was crying. Her clothes were, she knew, dirty (though it was dry and fine), her bonnet was bent. She was frightened to go home; he said she must get brushed up, and took her to some low tavern to do so. Terrified at what had been done, and about losing her place and character, she scarcely knew what she did. She had more gin, went into a bedroom with her to wash and brush, and then he persuaded her that now he had done it once, he might as well do it twice, Then he fucked her on the bed. Now the man had turned out to be (there was no possible mistake about his identity) a married man, a sergeant, with two or three children.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Are you sure he got right into you?" "Quite when on the bed, but I scarcely know what he did or said in the lane, a little fuddles me, yes I did bleed, for it was on my smock when I got home, and he did hurt me very much."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I wanted to see her cunt, for her blood-stains made me wonder, and the rather hard pushing I had had, though only for a second or two, set me thinking. I felt her cunt, she winced, it hurt her. An almost imperceptible stain was on my finger. 'You are poorly." "I'm not really, I was so last week." "Let me see your cunt." I coaxed, caressed, tried to pull her thighs open. It was useless. She was much stronger than me, and when she laid hold of my wrist to free herself from my rovings, she removed it easily. Force could do nothing, she was what had been said of her, as strong as a horse.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>So again I got savage. I had conquered by my anger two hours before, and now took to damning and cursing her mock modesty. Then she began again to whimper. "Oh! you do frighten me, you do 'bust' out so, I'm quite afeared, it's not nice to have your thing looked at" "You damned fool, I've fucked it, I dare say your soldier looked at it" "He didn't, he didn't, not that I know of." By abusing I got her consent. Pulling open her thighs I saw her quim. Had she been gay, she would have taken care to turn her bum from the light; but she laid with her arm across her eyes, as if to hide from herself, the sight of a man investigating her love-trap.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>There was the ragged jugged-edged slit of a recent virginity: and near the clitoris the jagging seemed fresh, raw, and signs ofblood just showing on it. I touched it, she winced, and nipped my hand with her great thighs, which set me damning again. Again they opened, I probed deep with my fingers up her cunt. There was no stain from the profundity, and the blood came from the front I looked till my cock stood, and then fucked her again.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I could never make this out, and we never met without talking about it. She was perfectly sure the soldier had been up her, and spent in her when in the bedroom. As to his prick, whether it was short or long, thick or thin, she knew not, for she had never seen it though he had put her hand to it in the lane. His prick must have been a very small one, and only split up enough for its entry, and I had finished her virginity, that is my conclusion.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>What is more remarkable, is that her cunt was one of the tightest I ever met with in a full-grown woman. It felt more like the cunt of a girl of fourteen, excepting in it, depth. It was a full size outside, and handsome to. look at between huge white thighs and huge globular bum-cheeks. It was fledged like a young woman's. I expected to find it hairy up to her navel, but it was only slightly haired, which helped to satisfy me that she was what she said, only turned twenty-one years of age.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She was great in bulk, but poor in symmetry. Her bum was vast, but she was thick up to her waist, and had large breasts as firm as a rock. Her thighs were lovely, but her knees so big, that no garter would remain above them, and she was clumsy in ankle and foot. She had a lovely skin, and smelt as sweet as new milk, sweet to her very cunt. I recollect noticing that in her, because some time before I had been offended with the smell of Fisher's, a woman I fucked, as already told.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I spent the rest of the day with Big Sarah, told her I would keep her as long as she was in her lodgings, and advised her to live well, and to enjoy herself. But she did not need idleness and feeding to make her randy, she was a strong fucker, now that her passions had been once gratified.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I made her twice or thrice stop out all night She told at her lodgings that she was going to stay with an aunt. I took her to J-*-s Street, which I liked better than T**-f-'-d Street, for that though the quietest, and only frequented by swells of middle-age, was old fashioned, dingy, and dull; Whereas J*--s Street had looking glasses, gildiings, red satin hangings, and gas-lights. We had a supper at the Cafe de l'Europe, and at nine p.m., we were in the room in which I had poked many a woman. I was delighted to see her white flesh under a bright light. "Now drop your chemise, look at me," and I stripped to the skin. I exposed her bare belly, and breasts in turn, whilst she laughing tried to prevent me. Flattery of her beautiful form did it. "Am I so beautifully made?" "A model my darling," and she stood naked excepting stockings and boots. I had shifted the cheval-glass, and we laid on the sofa. "Look at your thighs and cunt my darling in the glass, see how my prick looks in it" "Law! to think there be houses with all this, are there many such?" she asked. I placed her on the sofa, kneeling, her head against the bed, her backside towards me, and introduced my penis dog-fashion. How randy I had made her, how randy I was as I felt my belling press ing against those two stupendous globes. "Turn your head there, and look in the glass." "Oh!" said she wriggling her backside, "what a shame for us to be looking like that" The sight made her breathless, and wriggle her cunt closer on to the peg, how soon a woman learns to do that.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>There was a large glass against the wall, so placed that those on the bed could see every movement, I drew the curtain aside. We fucked enjoying the sight of our thrustings, heavings and back side wrigglings, and passed the night in every baudiness which then I practised. "Do you like looking?" "Yes I like it, but it makes me do it all of a sudden." It was true, for I found that when fucking her, if I said, "Look at us, look at me shoving," directly she looked it fetched her; her big arse quivered, and her cunt squeezed my prick like a vice. It was the same always on future days, or when if not in the same room I placed the cheval-glass at the side of the bed. The sudden squeeze and jerk of her arse as she looked amused me, and I always arranged for the spectacle with her. I did not usually do this with women.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>It was a delicious night we were both stark naked. Her lower limbs looked so much better when quite naked, than when she had stockings and boots on. The room got hot, we threw all the clothes off. She was a juicy one, and the sheets in the Morning were a caution, I wondered whether it could have all come out of one cunt and one cock. "What will they think?" said she. I showed her in the evening where she would find the closet, and advised her strongly if spoken to, not to reply to any one. We had breakfast in bed, then fucked. Her need to evacuate came on, and half dressing herself she went down. When she came back, out I went on similar errand. She had washed, and I found her on my return anxiously looking at the seminal stains on the bed-linen. We got on to the bed again. Questioning her, she told me that the woman of the house had said to her, "What a splendid woman you are, I wish you would tell me your address. - I could make your fortune." She had made no reply. I had her as already said several times after, at J***s Street, but took care never to let her out of my sight.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She went after a situation. Such a strong, big, fresh-looking woman was sure to get one, I knew. The next time I saw her afterwards she was in low spirits. "I've boiled myself a pretty kettle of fish," she said, "I could have married well in the country, but thought I should do better in Lunnun, and now what am I?" "My dear, your cunt can't speak, and if you hold your tongue, no one will know anything about our little amusements, and you will marry well."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I soon tired of her. She was a good-natured, foolish, stupid, trusting creature, and my wonder is that she had lived twenty-one years in the country, without having had a prick up her. As a lovely cunted fuckstress she left nothing to be desired. She had her fears about consequences, for her courses stopped, but she somehow managed to set that to rights, and at last went to her situation. Once afterwards I fucked her, my God how she enjoyed it! She was in service not far from me. A butcher's man very soon after married her. They opened a shop, and did very well, then they moved some distance away, and I lost sight of her for years. Then I met her walking with two or three children, I suppose her own. We passed, only looking al, each other.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>But I almost spoke, for she came upon me so unexpectedly, and my first irnpulse was to speak. She stopped short, threw her head back, and her lower jaw drooped, so that her mouth opened wide, and it would have been ludicrous, had it not been for the expression of fear and pain which came over her face. I recovered, myself, passed on, and never saw her more. I paid her expenses at her lodgings, and gave her a ten-pound note as a present. It was very economical, but I never knew a woman so delighted with my liberality. "I had two pounds, and now I've twelve," said she, "I shall send a pound to my mother. When I gave her the ten pounds she asked what it was, never having seen a bank-note in her life before. One or two countrywomen of the same class whom I have had, were just as ignorant of a bank-note.</I></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 19. A gap in the narrative • A mistress • A lucky legacy • Secret preparations • A sudden flight • At Paris • A dog and a woman • At a lake-city • A South American lady • Mrs. O*b***e • Glimpses from a bedroom window • Hairy armpits • Stimulating effects • Acquaintance made • The children • "Play with Mamma like Papa" • A water excursion • Lewd effects • Contiguous bedrooms • Double doors • Nights of nakedness • Her form • Her sex • Carnal confessions • Periodicity of lust.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I pass over many incidents of a couple of years or more, during which I was well off, had a mistress whom I had seduced, as it is stupidly called, and had children; but it brought me no happiness, and I fled from the connection. All this was never known to the world. My home life at length became so unbearable, that I at one time thought of realizing all I had, of throwing up all chance of advancement and a promising career which then was before me, and going for ever abroad I knew not where, nor cared. My mother had died, one sister was married, and was not much comfort to me; the other was far off, my brother nowhere. Just then a distant relative left me a largish sum of money, it was scarcely known to any one of my friends, quite unknown at home, and to none until I had spent a good deal of it. I kept the fact to myself till I had put matters in such train that I could get a couple of thousand pounds on account, then quietly fitted myself out with clothes. One day I sent home new portmanteaus, and packed up my clothes the same day. "I am going abroad," I said. "When?" "To-night." "Where to?" "I don't know, that is my business." "When do you come back?" "Perhaps in a week, perhaps a year," nor did I for a long time. I never wrote to England during that time, excepting to my solicitors and bankers who necessarily knew where I had been at times.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I went first to Paris, where I ran a course of baudy house amusements, saw a big dog fuck a woman who turned her rump towards it as if she were a bitch. The dog licked and smelt her cunt first, and then fucked. He was accustomed to the treat. Then I saw a little spaniel lick another French woman's cunt, She put a little powdered sugar or her clitoris first, and when the dog had licked that off, somehow she made it go on licking, until she spent, or shammed a spend, calling out, "Mini, - cher Nini, - go on Nini," - in French of course. I could make a lung story out of both of these incidents if it were worth while, but it is not, and only notice that the Newfoundland, whose tongue hanging out quite as long as his prick as he was pushing his penis up the French woman's quim, turned suddenly round when it had spent, seemed astonished to find he was not sticking arse to arse with her, and then licked the remains of the sperm off the tip of his prick. It was not a nice sight at all, nor did I ever want to see it again.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>There were few large cities of Central Europe I did not see, and think that the best baudy houses in most large cities saw me. It was a journey in which my amatory doings were especially with the priestesses of Venus. Beautiful faces and beautiful limbs were sufficient for me, if coupled with ready submission to -ny wishes. Although I learnt no doubt a great deal, and had my voluptuous tastes cultivated in a high degree, yet they developed none of those outside tastes which ordinarily come with great knowledge and practice in the matters of cunt. I shall only tell the most remarkable fornicating incidents.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was at the Hotel B*** in a Swiss town by a great lake, had arrived late, and was put into the third story, in a room overlooking a quadrangle. It was hot. I threw up my window when I got out of bed in the morning, and in nightgown looked into the quadrangle, and at the walls and windows of the various bedrooms opening on to it on three sides. Looking down on my right, and one story below me; I caught sight over the window-curtain of a bedroom, of a female head of long dark hair, and a naked arm brushing it up from behind vigorously, The arm looked the size of a powerful man's, but it was that of a woman. She moved about heedlessly, and soon I saw that she was naked to below her breasts but I only caught glimpses of that nakedness, for seconds, as she moved backwards and forwards near the window. Then she held up the hair for a minute, and seemed to be contemplating the effect of the arrangement of it, and showed what looked like a nest of hair beneath one armpit. Her flesh looked sallow or brown, and she seemed big and middle--aged. My window was near the angle of the quadrangle, so was hers, on the adjacent side of it. Perhaps from the window where I was, and that above mine only, could be seen all what I saw.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The armpit excited me, and I got lewd, though the glimpses were so few and short. Now I only saw the nape of the neck, and now her back, according to the postures which a woman takes in arranging her hair, and so far as the looking-glass and blinds and my position above let me. Once or so I saw big breasts of a tawny color. Then she looked at her teeth. Then she disappeared, then came forwards again, and I fancied she was naked to the waist. Then I lost sight of her, and again for an instant saw just the top of her naked bum, as if she were stripped, and in stooping down had bent her back towards the window. When she reappeared she was more dressed. She looked up at the sky, approaching the window to do so, caught sight of me, and quickly drew the blind right down.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I went down to breakfast, met some friends, and sitting down to table with them in the large breakfast-room, saw close to me this very lady. I had seen so little of her face that I did not recognize her at first by that; but the darkness of the eye and hair, the fullness of bust, and the brown-tinted skin left me in no doubt. We were introduced to each other. "Mrs. O'b" *e, a lady from New Orleans, a great friend of ours, been travelling with us for some weeks, with her two little children," and so on. I found out from my friends as we smoked our cigars in the gardens after breakfast, that she, with another American lady, and themselves, were going for a long tour, and had been touring for some weeks in Europe. She was the wife of a gentleman who owned plantations, and had gone back to America; intending to rejoin his wife at Paris at Christmas. The lady with the very hairy armpits and her husband were intimate friends of my friends.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I found this party were travelling my road, and I agreed to wait at *000* as long as they did. We met at meals; I joined in their excursions, and took much notice of her children who got quite fond of me. She seemed to avoid me at first, but in two or three days showed some sympathy. I guessed that my history had been made known to her, and found out at a latter day that it had. "A married man travelling without his wife is dangerous," said she to me one day when we were a merry party. "A married woman without her husband is a danger to me," I replied, and our eyes met, and said more than words.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I objected to my room, and in a few days the hotel-keeper showed me some better rooms. I had then ascertained which hers were, and pointed out the room next to them. "That," said he, "won't do-it's large, and has two beds." "Oh! it's so hot, I want a large room, show it me." He did. "It's double price." "Never mind;" and I took it at once. Luck, thought I. Her own room was next, and adjoining it a room in which her two children slept. A half-governess, half-maid who travelled with her, was on another floor, why I don't know, perhaps because the next room to the children's was a sitting-room.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My new room had as usual a door communicating with hers. I listened one or two nights and mornings, and heard the slopping of water and rattle of pots, but with difficulty; and nothing sufficiently to stir my imagination or satisfy my curiosity. There were bolts on both sides of the doors, and double doors. I opened mine, and tried if hers was fastened. It was. But I waited my opportunity, intending to try to have her, thinking that a woman who had not had a man for months, and might not for some months more, would be ready for a game of mother and father if she could do so safely. She was not very beautiful, but was fine, tallish, handsomely formed, with a large bust, and splendid head of hair. Her complexion had the olive tint of some Southerners. One might almost have supposed there was a taint of Negro blood in her, but her features were rather aquiline and good. The face was coldish and stern, the eyes dark and heavy, the only sensuous feature of her face was a full, large-lipped mouth, which was baudy in its expression when she laughed. I guess she was a devil of a temper.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>After a day or two I gave up all hope, for she would not understand double entendres, coldly returned my grasp when I shook hands with her, and gave no signs of pleasure in my company, excepting when I was playing with her children. Yet when she looked into my face when laughing; there certainly was something in her eye, which made me think that a pair of balls knocking about her bum would delight her. I used to think much of what a friend of mine, a surgeon in a crack regiment in which I had some friends, used to say, which was this. All animals are in rut sometimes, so is a woman, even the coldest of them. It's of no use trying the cold ones, unless they have the tingling in their cunts on them; then they are more mad for it than others, but it doesn't last. If you catch a cold woman just when she is on heat, try her; but how to find out their time, I never knew, they are damned cunning." So said the surgeon.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I must have caught Mrs. O*b***e on heat I suppose, and it came about soon. We went out for some hours on the lake in a boat. She was timid, and when the boat rocked I held her, squeezed her arm, and my knees went against hers. Another time my thigh was close against hers. I put one of her children on to her lap. The child sat down on my hand, which was between her little bum and her mother's thighs. I kept my hand there, gradually moving it away, creeping it up higher and higher, and gripping the thigh as I moved it towards the belly, but so delicately, as to avoid offence, and I looked her in the face. "Minnie is heavy, isn't she?" I said. "She is getting so," she replied, looking with a full eye at mine.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Now I felt sure from her look, that she knew I was feeling her, thigh. I had stirred her voluptuousness. The water got rougher. "I shall be sick," said she. "Whaal on such a lakel" "Oh! I'm a bad sailor." Placing my arm round her for a minute I pulled her close to me. It became calm, and lovely weather again. The water always upset her, it seemed to stir her up, she said. "I'd like to see you stirred up," said I. Then to avoid remark I changed sides with a lady, and sat opposite to Mrs. O*b***e. We faced each other, looking at each other. I pushed my feet forward, so as to rub my foot against her ankle. She did not remove her foot, but looked at me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Arrived at we dined, and sat afterwards in the garden. It grew dusk, and we separated into groups. I sat by her side, and played with her children. One child said, "Play with me like Papa, play with Mamma like Papa does." "Shall I play with you like Papa?" said I to Mrs. O*b***e. "I'd rather not," said she. "I'd break an arm to do so," I replied. "Would you." said she. "Oh! put the children to bed Margaret," and the governess with the children and Mrs. O*b***e walked off. I for a minute joined my friends smoking, then cut off by a side-path leading to that through which Mrs. O*b***e would pass, She had just bid the children good night. "I shall come up to see you direotly," said she to them, and to me, "I thought you were going into town." "Yes I think I'll make a night of it, I'm wild. I want company.." "Fine company it will be, I dare say." "Let me keep you company then." No one was near, I kissed her. She took it very quietly. "Don't now, you'll compromise me." It was now quite dusk. I kissed her again. I'm dying to sleep with you," I whispered. "You mustn't talk like that, there now, they will see you," then I left her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had noticed her habits, and knew that usually she went up to her children soon after they had gene to bed, so I waited at the foot of the stairs. Soon she came. "What, you here?" "Yes, I'm going to bed like you." It was a sultry night, everybody was out of doors, the hotel servants lolling at open windows. No one met us as we went upstairs. "Why that's not your room, it's next to mine." "Yes it is, I've been listening to you the last two nights." "Oh! you sly man, I thought you were sly." "Look what a nice room it is," said I opening the door. There was a dim light in the corridors, none in my room. She looked in I gave her a gentle squeezing push, and shut the door on us.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Don't shut the door," said she turning sharply round. I caught and kissed her. "Stop with me, my darling, now you're here, I'm dying for you, kiss me, do." "Let me go, there then, now let me go, don't make a noise, - Oh! if mv governess should hear me, what would she thinkl" "She is not there." "Sometimes she stays till I go up to the children, oh! don't now, you shan't." I had her up against the wall, my arm round her, I was pressing my hand on her belly outside her clothes. She pushed my hand away, I stooped and thrust it up her clothes on to her cunt, and pulling out my prick, pushed her hand on to it. "Let me, let's do it, I'm dying for you." "Oh! for God's sake don't, Oh! no, now, you'll compromise me, hish! if she should be listening." For a moment we talked, she quietly struggled, entreating me to desist; but my fingers were well on to her cunt, frigging it. I don't recollect more what she said, but I got her to the side of the bed, pushed her back on it, and thrust my prick up her. "Oh! don't compromise me-don't now.' Then she fucked quietly till she gasped out, "Oho-oho," as a torrent of my sperm shot into her cunt.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Excepting from the clear light of the night, which came from the sky through the window in the quadrangle, the room was in darkness. I don't know that my prick ever lingered longer up a woman after fucking and declare that whilst up her, I told how I had seen her brushing her hair, and so on. She said that I should compromise her, and Oh! if she should be with child, "what will become of me.' Feeling the sperm oozing out over my balls, and my prick shrinking, I uncunted. 'Oh! what have you made me do, you bad man?" said she sitting upon the side of the bed. "Oh! if they should see me going out of your room, - Oh! if she has been listening"</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I drew down the blind, and lighted a candle, much against her wish. She sat at the edge of the bed just where she had been fucked, her clothes still partly up. I listened at the door between our two rooms, but heard nothing, then told her again how I had watched her from a top-window, and seen her breasts and armpits. My prick stiffened at my own tale. Sitting down by her side, 'Let's do it again my love,' I said, and pushed my hand up her clothes. I shall never forget the feel. The whole length of her thighs, as she closed them on my hand felt like a pot of paste. Only a minute's pleasure, and such a mass of sperm. She repulsed me, and stood up.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I stood up too; kissing, coaxing, insisting, she looking at me, I fingering, pulling backwards and forwards the prepuce of my penis. No, she would not. Then I threatened to make a noise, if she would not, and swore I would have her again. She promised to let me if I would let her go to her bedroom first, she would unlock her side of the two doors, if she could. She was not sore if there was a key, if. not she would open the door on to the corridor, but only at midnight, when the gas was turned out, and few people about. She promised solemnly, and sealed it with a kiss. 'Oh! for God's sake be quiet." I opened the door of my bedroom, and saw no one in the lobby. Out she went, and got intro her own room unnoticed. Then I opened the door to her room from my side. There were double doors.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She seemed to keep me a long time waiting, though she had scarcely been in her room five minutes. I stripped myself to my shirt, then knocked at the door gently, then louder. A key turned, the door opened. She had only gone in to be sure that the children were in their bed, and the governess not with them. "Oh! I have been so fearful lest she should have been there;" she said.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The children were asleep, she had bolted their door. "And now go to bed, and let me also, there is a dear man, and don't ask anything more of me." "To bed yes, but with you." She begged me not, all in a whisper. My reply was to strip off my shirt, and stand stark naked with prick throbbing, and wagging; and nodding with its size, weight, and randiness. "Only once, one more, and then I will be content." "No." "Then damned if I won't," said I moving towards her. "Hush my children will hear, in your room then," and she came towards my door. "Oh! nonsense, not with your clothes on, let us have our full pleasure, and this hot night too, take off your things." Little by little she did, and stood in her chemise. I tried all the doors,.they were securely fastened, and then I brought her quite into my room. "Leave me alone a. minute," she said. But as randy as if I had not left my sperm up her fifteen minutes before, I would not, and pulled her gently toward my bed, tore the clothes off, so as to leave the bottom sheet only on, and got her on to the bed. "Do let me see your cunt. " "No, no, no." As I pulled up her chemise, down she pushed it. "Oh! no, I'm sure I shall be with child," said she, "and if I am I'd just best make a hole in the water." Her big breasts were bare, her thighs opened, a grope on the spermy surface, and then fucking began. "Oho" she sighed out loudly again, as she spent.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Off and on until daybreak we fucked. After the second she gave herself up to pleasure. The randiest slut just out of a three months quodding could not have been hotter or readier for lewd fun with cunt and ballocks. I never had a more randy bedfellow. She did not even resist the inspection of her cunt, which surprised me a little, considering its condition. Our light burnt out, our games heated us more and more, the room got oppressive, I slipped off her chemise, our naked bodies entwined in all attitudes, and we fucked, and fucked, bathed in sweat, till the sweat and sperm wetted all over the sheet, and we slept. It was broad daylight when we awakened. I was lying sweating with her bum up against my belly, her hair was loose all over her, and the bed. Then we separated and she fled to her room, carrying her chemise with her. Oh! Lord that sheet, if ten people had fucked on it, it could not have been more soiled. We consulted how best to hide it from the chamber-maid, and I did exactly the same trick as of former days. Have not all men done it I wonder?</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I got a site-bath in my room, which was then not a very easy thing to get. I washed in it, wetted all my towels, then took off the sheet, wetted it nearly all over, soiled it, then roughly put it together in a heap, and told the chamber-woman I had used the sheet to dry myself with. She said, "Very well." I don !t expect she troubled herself to undo or inspect the wet linen, or thought about the matter.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I went to breakfast at the usual time. "Where is Mrs. O*b*"eP" I asked. The governess appeared with the children saying the lady had not slept owing to the heat. She showed up at the table d'hote dinner, I avoided her, knowing I should see her soon afterwards, and said I should go and play billiards; but instead, went to my bedroom and read; nursing my concupiscent tool, and imagining coming pleasures. I heard the children, having opened the door on my side and found that the key of her door was luckily so turned as to leave the keyhole clear. The doors connecting all the rooms were as is often the case in foreign hotels, opposite each other, and I could see across into the children's bedroom. They were putting their night-gowns on in their own room. Then the governess came into her mistress' room and I heard her pissing, but could not see her. To my great amusement, for the sight of a woman in her privacy give me pleasure, she then came forward within range of ny peep-hole, and was looking into the pot carefully They Mrs, O*b***e came in and the governess left. Mrs. O*b***e went to look at the children and returned, opened our doors, and then we passed another amorous night, taking care to put towels under her bum when grinding. We did not want the sheets to be a witness against us again.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Mrs. O*b***e was not up to the mark, and began to talk that kind of bosh that women do, who are funky of consequences. After a time she warmed, and yielded well. I would see her cunt to begin with. It was a pretty cunt and not what I had expected, large, fat-lipped, and set in a thicket of black hair, from her bum-hole to her navel; but quite a small slit, with a moderate quantity of hair on her motte, but very thick and crisp. I told her again how I had seen her from the window. The recital seemed to render her randier than either feeling my prick, or my titillation of her quim. The hair in her armpits was thicker, I think, than in any woman I ever had. Her head-hair was superb in its quantity. I made her undo it, and spread it over the bed, and throw up her arms, and show her armpits when I fucked her. She was juicy cunted, and spent copiously; so did I. The heat was fearful. We fucked start naked, again.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Later on she told me that she cared about poking but once a month only, and about a week before her courses came on. At other times it annoyed her. Going on the water always upset her stomach, and made her lowed, even if in a boat on a river, and however smooth it was, it upset her that way. At sea it was the same. It made her firstly feel sick, then giddy, then sleepy, but that always two or three hours afterwards, randiness overtook her. After a day or two, the lewdness subsided whether she copulated, or frigged, or not. She told me this as a sort of excuse for having permitted me to spermatize her privates, the night of her excursion on the water with us.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She was curious about my history. I told her I had women at every town I came to. She declared that no other man but I and her husband had ever had her.</I></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 20. Frantic coition • A priapus • Purging and resting • Priapus humbled • Carnal exercises resumed • The governess • A peep through a key-hole • Bathing • The after-frig • My politeness • The silk mantle • Travelling resumed • The new hotel • Felt, and all but • Unproductive seed • A thin partition • Scared by a laugh • Unsuccessful • The mantle given • Still no success • I leave.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>On the third night which I had her, she had undressed to her chemise, and had lifted one leg to pull off her boot. It was a small foot, and a fine fat leg. A letch to have her with her boots and stockings on struck me. She was now complaisant in everything, and I fucked her thus at the side of the bed, and then with her bum towards me I had her again. She was tired, and prayed me to desist. I felt tired, but so heated, and irritated in my privates, and so furiously lewed, that though my sense told me I had done enough, my prick refused to be quiet, and kept standing. It was still fearfully hot. I had been abstinent from women for some time, until I had seen Mrs. O'b"**e's armpits, and had since been idling, eating, drinking, smoking and thinking, almost dreaming, of nothing but baudy things and of fucking her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>At last I let her go to her own bed, and laid down outside my own. My prick had come out of her stiffish, and soon got as hard as iron, and kept so till I could bear it no longer, and went into her room. She was asleep, and outside her bed with her boots and stockings on still. She had laid down fatigued, and fell asleep thus. I think I see her now as I pulled up her chemise, and felt her still wet cunt. I made her angry, but she came to my bed. Again my pego pushed up her. Now she had said 'Oh! I'm so tired, pray let me go." "I will my darling after this." "Oh! I'm spending again," she almost shrieked, and so did I. Then I let her go. I tell all this with minuteness, for the circumstances were so exceptional, that they are impressed on my memory in the minutest detail.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I fell asleep and awakened with prick harder than ever, heard her snoring, and not liking to disturb her, pissed, thinking that that might reduce my concupiscent machine to a wagging size. It did not, and thinking about her bum, armpits, and all her charms, I got furious. My prick had none of the soft voluptuous sensation in it, which comes from sperm-charged balls, but ached from its roots to my arse-hole; yet the tip was sensitive to pleasure. Rubbing my finger on it made it throb, and my whole body quiver, though I had none of the incipient pleasure of a spend. I awakened her. No I should not do it any more. But I threw myself on to her, and fingered her curt with passion. Her thighs opened again, and I drove up her with violence and baudy ejaculations, for my brain seemed on fire. "Oh! pray, - oh! if the children should awake." "Come to my room then." I uncunted, and she came. Ram, ram, ram. "Oh! I'm doing it," she cried, but it took me a mile of shoving to spend. She spent twice before I did, and when I uncunted my prick was still stiff. I would not let her leave, but lay fondling her (almost sticking together in our sweat), and making her feel my iron-bound prick till I mounted her again. "Oh! what a man, you're hurting, why it's stiff still, don't push up so hard, I feel as if my womb was falling, Oh! Tm spending, oh! you'll kill me, don't, leave off." At day light I was still feeling her curt, kissing, and pushing my prick up her, almost as soon as I had uncunted. Then she refused angrily to let me do it any more, and no wonder, but I held her to me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Now I could not spend at all, yet lead pleasure in the fucking. She on the contrary spent quicker, and quicker, had got inflamed and excited both in mind and cunt. She kept begging me to stop after each of her spends, and saying I should kill her. At the last spend she gave a scream, and began to sob, uncunted my penis by a violent jerk, and there was blood on it. I think some of it was mine. How often I spent that night I never could tell. I was fucking for about eight hours, off and on almost without stopping. Then I slept, and when I awoke, had still a prick stiff, but it was aching fearfully.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She had locked herself in, never answered my whispered call nor my discreet raps, and did not appear that day. She was ill. I looked a scarecrow, and told a man of our party that I had been at a baudy house all night. My prick all day kept standing at intervals. Seeing in the afternoon the governess take out the children for a walk I went to my room, saw Mrs. O*b***e, and promised not to exact anything that night but at bedtime insisted on plugging her cunt again. She said I was a brute, that I only cared about my own pleasure, and refused me, positively, entreating me not to make a noise and compromise her, but I fucked her till she screamed, and so did I, with mixed pain and pleasure.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>My stiffness without much desire, still continued and much annoyed me. Such a copulative fury had never occurred to me before. At last I began to think that there was some ailment coming on. I had heard of such things, of men going mad through it and got alarmed. Then I frigged, hoping to reduce it, and after immense trouble got a pleasure, but so mixed with pain that I groaned. I could scarcely see any sperm, felt burning hot all over me, my mouth was parched, I was trembling, and thought I had better see a doctor. I carried medicine in my trunk, tool: a violent dose, in a few hours nearly shit my guts out, then took more medicine, and laid a bed, all day, eat nothing, and my prick gradually became tranquil. Mrs O*b***es cunt was mulberry in colour, my prepuce was raw, we rested from our amatory labours for several days, but we talked about it a great deal.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Then both with re-invigorated privates, we fucked, and covered again some towels with sperm. She was sure she was in the family way. Again I got symptoms of a priapus, and wore her out by ramming, and making her spend. At last she spent thrice before I did, I felt a peculiar wetness on my prick, pulled it out, it was covered with her courses. 'Thank God,' said she. Then I had a weakness which I thought was clap. It was nothing but the result of over-fading. She got her courses over, and refused to let me have her again. My gleet cured itself by quietness and careful living. We kept as secret as we could that my room was next to hers. We always looked into the corridor before leaving or entering our rooms, and never did so at the same time: She had special fear of the governess finding her out. I thought that she need have no fear on that bead. But one never knows.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>One evening she said to the governess, "Give the children their bath just warm." The girls had a bath once or twice a week, before going to bed. Instinct which has always helped me so in these affairs, made me go directly afterwards to my bedroom. Instinct was right. The bath was in front of the key-hole in Mrs. O*b***e's room. I saw the girls washed, could just see where their little hairless splits began (it was daylight still), and then chi luckl The governess, a dark-eyed, short young woman about twentyfour years of age, an American, gave herself a bath, and soaped and rubbed herself from the nape of her neck to her toes. She rubbed her cunt dry in a most irritating, cock-stiffening manner, within two yards of my eye, and then dressed herself again, and sat down on a chair. Scarcely had she seated herself, than she began to pull up her clothes in all manner of ways, as if hunting for a flea; then got a book, and turning her back to the light began reading, keeping her right hand up her petticoats. Then she went and pulled down the blind. She lighted candles, and sat down reading again, nearly facing me. Her hand after a while went up her petticoats on to her quim, and moved gently. She put the book on a little movable table, one of her legs on the edge of the bath, the other on the floor, and pulled her petticoats a little up to ease her hand, showing her legs a little above her knees (she had not put stockings on after the bath). Then her legs opened wide, her hand moved, she frigged hard and quick, I saw the shake of it, her legs quiver, stretch open then close, her bum wriggle, her legs open, her head fall on one side and her eyes close. Her hand then appeared from under her clothes and hung lifelessly over her petticoats, which fell dower, and so she sat for a minute as if asleep. Then she put her hand under her petticoats, withdrew it, looked at it, washed it in the bath, and moved away. Then I heard her pissing. Then the chambermaid appeared, and took away the bath. When doing so Mrs. O*b***e came in and asked why the bath was still there, and if the children were asleep. I closed my door, and slipped downstairs, not desirous of having it known that I had been in my bedroom. It was a delightful sight. Nothing gives me more pleasure than seeing a woman dress and undress, wash, piddle, and do all, she wants, not thinking any one is looking at her. I'm not sure that it is not as exciting as the baudiest sights a woman can give a man. Three women, chaste women, have I seen frigging themselves, when they could not have thought they, were observed, and the sights will never fade from my memory. I have seen and heard full twenty chaste women dress, undress, wash, brush, piddle, without their knowing I did so.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Later that night I had. Mrs. O-b... e and fucked her thinking of the governess. How strange it seems that when my genitals have been in a woman, and the sperm rising to moisten her cunt, I have at tinges thought of some other woman, and copulation with them. Mrs. O*b***e and I did not allude to our married condition. One evening laying face to face, kissing, I fingering her clitoris, she holding my prick, I put a question. She said no, her husband's prick was not quite as large as mine, very nearly she thought, and then, "Oh! don'tlet us talk about such things," and we never as far as I can recollect referred again to similar subject.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Her fast night with me seemed the highest development of randiness and sensuous enjoyment I ever witnessed in a woman, who was what may be called chaste. Her long abstinence from a doodle, the effect on her physical organization of the rocking of the boat, and my stimulating words acting upon her mind caused it. She seemed almost mad with pleasure. When fucking, her sighs were continuous, though she was quiet in tongue, until the crisis came on. The copious discharges she made were like a flood, but it was that night alone, afterwards she was different. Towards the end of our acquaintance, she said she was worn out, and did not care about it. She was a strong-scented woman. When she got hot, a sort of bandy, cunty, sweaty exhalation evolved from her. I shall always think it was that among other things, which got me such an attack of stiff-standing; and that the aroma of her body excited me, though it somewhat offended me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had been at the Lake hotel some weeks, and the party were about to move off. I was going in the same direction, but expected a friend to meet me, and they left a day before I did. The last night I begged her to let me have her and she consented under a solemn promise not to spend in her. I always loved to spend hard home, but kept my word, and spent outside her cunt pulling out my prick just when the ejaculation of sperm began, and letting it fall on to her buttocks. Then we parted. She said if ever we met again we must try to forget what we had been to each other, and that I was to blame more than she was. We saw each other two days afterwards, but I never had her again, and she did not go to Paris at Christmas. I did, and heard she had gone back to America.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>From the night I saw the governess frig herself, I lusted for her. Talking about her to one of the party, he told me he thought she knew the feel of six inches of stiff up her; but I got no more out of him. I met her walking in the town, and looking at a mantle in a shop-window, and asked her if she were going to buy it. "Oh! no I can't afford it, though it would just suit me." "I'll give it you if you will let me." "Let you what?" Her eyes met mine. "Let me bring it to you some evening when they are all a bed." She shook her head, and walked away. I bought the mautle, and took it to the hotel. I took it with me three days afterwards to the town of There we were all again together at the same hotel. She was not far off from Mrs. O*b***e's room this time. I got a bedroom as near to hers as I could, but was bothered because my friend with whom I was going to travel had a bedroom very near to mine. I told her I had bought her the mantle. No she would not take it, nor let me take it to her, Mrs. O*b***e would ask her where she bought it, would wonder how she could afford it. Spite of all her objections I knocked at her door one evening just before she could have undressed, and after Mrs. O*b***e had gone to bed, "only to show it to you." I saw her, and got into the room. There was as occasionally happens, no door between hers and the adjoining rooms, but the partitions were so thin that you could hear through them easily any one cough, snore, or fart. I begged and besought her to feel me, to let me feel her. I threatened to make a noise and compromise her. She did not want the mantle, if she was to be ruined and insulted for it, she had not asked me for it, which was true enough. But little by little we kissed, I pulled up her clothes, saw her thighs, and got the smell of her cunt on my finger; but she would not let me do it, though she felt my prick. "Oh! do leave me, I'll do anything but let you do that, I mustn't, if Mrs. O*b"'e found anything out, I should be ruined and turned off in a strange land." And in the midst of this I spent whilst her hand was round my prick, one of mine on her thighs, and I was vainly trying to push her on to the bed. Then I desisted.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>With her hand covered with sperm she stood looking at it, and at me, and saying, "Do go," I tried for another hour I suppose, and was about to conquer, had got her on to the bed, and was just getting on myself, when we heard a loud burst of laughter in the adjoining room. That disconcerted us both, for it seemed as if they were laughing at us, and she jumped up in terror. She recovered herself, when we heard the talking and laughing continuing, but it had spoiled my chance, though I tried for hours afterwards. Then angrily leaving her, I left her the mantle; but the neat morning I asked her for it, which was mean. She sent it into my room. I felt a little ashamed of myself for taking it. I never got into her room again, so I amused myself by talking the hottest and lewdest I could to her, for the three or four days I remained there; principally asking whether she would like any of my sperm on to her cunt and if she had frigged when I had left the room. She took it very quietly, but used to colour up and look randy. Then I was obliged to leave, so I sent the mantle to her with a note saying it was hers, and departed without having fucked her, nor do I know whether a penis had ever probed her or not, but I thmk that had I remained longer, I should have found that out. A woman who has had a man's sperm on her fingers must feel pudding afterwards.</I></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I>Chapter 21. Camille the second • Stripping • The divan • Cock-washing • Camille's antecedents • Face, form, and runt • Mode of copulating • Avaricious • Free fucking offered • Gabrielle • Cunt, form, and face • Minette • My daily dose of doxies • At M**g**e • Lodgings at the greengrocer's • Louisa the red-haired • The lodging-house servant • The shop-boy • My friend's daughter • Piddling, and presents • Loo's bum pinched • The servant kissed • A stroke on the sands • With Loo on the beach • Chaff, and cunt-tickling • A declaration of love • The virtuous servant.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I do not recollect having gone with a French woman excepting when abroad, my tastes ran on my own countrywomen. Now in the year 18**, a year of national importance, and one in which strangers came from all parts of the world to London, I was to have a French woman again. Was it for the sake of change only, or because they were more willing, salacious, enterprising, and artistic in Paphian exercises? was it my recollection of having that when I did not want it? I cannot say.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>At quite the beginning of the month of June, about four o'clock in the afternoon, I saw a woman walking slowly along Pall-Mall dressed in the nicest and neatest way. I could scarcely make up my mind whether she was gay or not, but at length saw the quiet invitation in her eye, and slightly nodding in reply, followed her to a house in B**y Street, St. James. She was a French woman named Camille.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I named my fee, it was accepted, and in a quiet, even ladylike way she began undressing. With a neatness unusual in gay women, one by one each garment was folded up, and placed on a chair, pins stuck in a pin-cusbion, etc., with the greatest composure, and almost without speaking. I liked her even for that, and felt she would suit my taste. As each part of her flesh came into view, I saw that her form was lovely. When in her chemise, I began undressing, she sitting looking at me. When in my shirt, I began those exquisite preliminaries with this well-made, pretty woman, feeling her all over, and kissing her; but my pego was impatient, and I could not go on at this long. Smiling she laid hold of my prick "Shall we make love?" this was in the bedroom. "Yes." "Here, or in the salon?" "I don't like a sofa." "Me also,* said she pushing the door open wide, and pointing to a piece of furniture which I had not noticed, though noticeable enough. In the room was a sort of settee or divan, as long, and nearly as wide as a good-sized bed; so wide that two people could he on it side by side. It had neither head nor feet, but presented one level surface, covered with a red silky material, and a valance hanging down the sides. At one end were two pillows, also red, and made flat like two bed-pillows. "There, on that, said I at once. I never saw any divan or piece of furniture like it in my life since, neither in brothel, nor in private house, here or on the Continent, -excepting once when quite in the extreme East of Europe.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>It was a blazing hot day. "Shall I take off my chemise?" "Yes." Off she took it, folded it up, and took it into the bedroom. "Take off your shirt." Off I drew it, and we both stood naked. She laid hold of my stiff prick, gave it a gentle shake, laughed, fetched two towels, spread one on the divan for her bum, laid the other on a pillow for me, went back to the bedroom, poured out water in the basin, then laid herself down naked on the divan with her bum on the towel. I kissed her belly and thighs, and she opened them wide for me to see her notch, without my having asked her to do so. To pull it open, have a moment's glance at the red, kiss and feel her rapidly over, mount her, fuck and spend, was only an affair of two or three minutes, so strongly had she stirred my lust for her.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I laid long up her, raising myself on my elbow to talk with her whilst my prick was still in her sheath. At length it slipped out Gently she put her hand down, and caught it, taking off the excess of moisture. Delicately she raised the towel, and put her hand on her cunt, and saying with a smile, "Mon Dieu, il y en a assez," went to the bedroom, I following her. She wiped her cunt with the towel, half squatting to do so, then rose up quickly saying, "Shall I wash yours? I had begun, but the offer pleased me. I have no recollection as I write this, of any gay woman having made such an offer. "Yes wash it." "Hold the basin then,"-and taking it up she placed it under me, so that my testicles hung into it whilst I held it. She washed me. "Soap?" "Yes." 'Inglis sop" (laughing), the first English words I heard her speak. My prick washed, she performed a similar operation on herself. All was done so nicely, cleanly, and delicately that I have never seen it excelled by any woman.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>"Causons-nousr said she leading the way to the divan. Then both laying down naked we gossiped. She was from Arles, in France, eighteen years of age, had been in London a fortnight, had been tailed six months and lived with her father most of that time. A month ago had been persuaded to go to Lyons by an old woman who there sold her pleasures, and kept her money. Another old one snapped her up there, and brought her to London,, to a house in B**n"s Street, where a young French woman more experienced than Camille induced her to work on her own account. They two got away, Camille set up in B**y Street, her friend elsewhere. That was told me laying naked with her on the divan.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>[She was alone in London, and still exercising her occupation the other day, thirty-one years after I first had her. I have known her, and had her occasionally during all that time, though some times two or three years have elapsed between my visits to her. She has been in poor cirqumstances for years, past, and oftentimes I have gone out of my way purposely to meet her, and give her a bit of gold, out of regard for her.]</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>We lay during her narration (which was soon told) naked. Hot as it was I felt a slight coolness, and drawing myself closer up to her, "It's cool," I said. Without reply, she put one hand over me to help my embrace of her, with the other handled gently my prick, the next instant kissed me, and I felt her tongue peeping out of her pretty lips, seeking my tongue. My fingers naturally had been playing gently about her curt all the time of our talk, and her hand rubbing gently over my naked flesh. So for a minute in silence our tongues played with each other, and then without a word and with one consent, and like one body we moved together gently, she on to her back, I on to her belly, my prick went up her, and with slow probing thrusts, with now and then a nestle and a pause, till the rapid clip-clip of her curt drove me into more rapid action, to the rapid in and out and the final short thrusts and wriggle against her womb, till my prick with strong pulsations sent my sperm up her again. "Ah! cheri, - mon Dieu, - a - h - a!" she sighed as she had spent with me. "You fuck divinely," said she, but in chaste words, afterwards.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>A wash as before, and then with chemise and shirt on, we talked about France, London, beer, wine, and other topics. "Let me look at your curt." I had scarcely looked at it. Without reply she fell back, opened her thighs, and then I saw all, all, and so for two hours we went on, till it was time for me to dine, and with a parting fuck which we both enjoyed, we parted. I added another piece of gold to what I had already put on the mantel piece before she began to undress. A custom of mine then, and always followed since, is putting down my fee, it prevents mistakes, and quarrels. When paid, if a woman will not let me have her, be it so, she has some reason, perhaps a good one for me. If she be a cheat, and only uses the money to extort more, be it so. I know my woman, and have done with her henceforth.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Camille was a woman of perfect height, about five foot seven, and beautifully formed, had full, hard, exquisite breasts, and lovely legs and haunches, though not too fat or heavy. The hair on her curt, soft and of a very dark chestnut colour, was not then large in quantity, but corresponded with her years. Her cunt was small, with small inner lips, and a pretty nubbly clitoris like a little button. The split of her cunt lay between the thighs with scarcely any swell of outer-lips, but had a good coons, and was altogether one of the prettiest cunts I have ever seen. I am now beginning, after having seen many hundreds of them, to appreciate beauty in cunts, to be conscious that there is a special, a superior beauty in the cunts of some women as compared with others, just as there is in other parts of their body. She had pretty hands and feet.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Her skin had the slightly brown gipsy tint found in many women in the South of Europe. I never saw a woman in whom the colour was so uniform as in her. From her face to her ankles it was the same unvarying tint without a mottle, even in any cranny. It had also the most exquisite smoothness, but it neither felt like ivory, satin, nor velvet, it seemed a compound of them all. I have scarcely felt the same in any other woman yet. That smoothness attracted me at first I expect, but it was only after I had had her several times, that I began to appreciate it, and to compare it with the skin of other women. She had with that, a great delicacy of touch with her hands.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Her face was scarcely equal to her form. The nose was more than retrouss6, it bordered on the snub. She had small, dark, softly twinkling eyes, and dark hair; the mouth was ordinary, but with a set of very small, and beautifully white, regular, teeth. The general effect of her face was piquante rather than beautiful, but it pleased me. Her voice was small and soft, - an excellent thing in a woman.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>[Such was the woman I have known for thirty-one years, but of whom there is scarcely anything to be told. No intrigue, nothing. exciting is connected with her and myself. I cannot tell all the incidents of our acquaintance right off as I do those of many of my women, who appeared, pleased me, and disappeared; but she will be noticed from time to time as I had her, or sought her help in different erotic whims and fancies, which took hold of me at various periods. I write this now finding that her name appears in my manuscript a long way further on. She was moreover a most intelligent creature, clean, sober, and economical, and saving with a good purpose and object, to end alasl for her in failure.]</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I never had a more voluptuous woman. Naked on that divan, or on the bed when the weather was warm, I had her constantly during that summer. l know nothing more exciting, than the tranquil, slow, measured way in which she laid down, exposing her charms; every attitude being natural yet exciting by its beauty and delicate salacity. She always seemed to me to be what I had heard of Orientals in copulation. She had the slowest yet most stifling embrace. There was no violent energy, no heaving up of rump, as if a pin had just run into her, nor violent sighs, nor loud exclamations; but she clung to you, and sucked your mouth in a way I scarcely ever have found in English women, or in French ones; but the Austrians and Hungarians in the use of tongue with tongue, and lips with lips are unrivalled in voluptuousness. Beyond a voluptuous grace natural to her, she had not at first the facile ways of a French courtesan, they came later on. I saw the change, and from that and other indications feel sure she had not been in gay life long before I had her. I could tell more of her history, but this is a narrative of my life, not of hers.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>[I have destroyed some pages of manuscript solely relating to her.]</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She soon got a good clientele, picked up English rapidly, dressed richly, but never showily, and began to save money. She made affectionate advances to me which I did not accept. After a time she used to pout at what I gave her, and got greedy. So one day saying, "Ma chere, here is more, but adieu, I don't like you to be dissatisfied, but cannot afford to come to see you," she slapped the gold heavily down on the table. "Ah! Mon Dieu, don't say so, come, come, I am sorry, you shall never pay me, come when you like, I did not want you to pay me, but you would, come, do come, that lovely prick, do me again before you go, don't go, my maid shall say I have not come home" (she expected some man), and she never pouted about my compliment, till many years afterwards.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I suppose that having had this charming fresh French woman, made me wish for another; for spite of my satisfaction and liking for her, I made acquaintance with another French woman, as unlike Camille as possible. Her name was Gabrielle, a bold-looking woman with big eyes and a handsome face, very tall and well-made, but with not too much flesh on her bones, with a large, full-upped, loud-looking cunt in a bush of hair as black as charcoal I never told Camille about her, and think it was the great contrast between the two which made me have her. That woman also seemed later on to have taken some sort of fancy to me.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>She had all the ready lechery of a well-practised French harlot, I saw it from the way she opened her thighs, and laid down to receive my embraces. About the third visit she brought water; and made me wash my prick, on which the exudation of healthy lust was showing whitish, before she let me poke her. I liked her cleanliness, but to my astonishment no sooner were we on the bed, than she reversed herself laying side by side with me, and began, sucking my prick. I had no taste for that pleasure, nor since a woman in the rooms of Camille the first did it to me, had my penis been so treated that I recollect, though I had made ladies take it into their mouths for a second. I objected. "Mais si,-mais si,"and she went on. My head was near her knee, one leg she lifted up, showing her thighs, which opened and showed her big-lipped cunt in its thicket of black hair. She played with my prick thus till experience told her she could do it no longer with safety, then ceasing her suction, and changing her position, I fucked her in the old fashioned way.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The amusement seemed not to have shocked me as much as I thought it should have done, and it was repeated as a preliminary on other days, without my ever suggesting it. After I had had my first poke, the delicate titillation of the mouth seemed vastly pleasant, my prick then being temporarily fatigued by exercise in its natural channel; but I felt annoyed with myself for relishing it at all. I had not overcome prejudices then, though evidently my philosophy was gradually undermining them. Why, if it gives pleasure to the man to have his prick sucked by a woman, wbo likes operating that way on the male, should they be abused for enjoying themselves in such manner? A woman may rub it up to stiffen it, the man always does so if needful, that is quite natural and proper. What wrong then in a woman using her mouth for the same purpose, and giving still higher, more delicate and refined pleasure? All animals lick each other's privates, why not we? In copulation and its consequences, we are mainly animals, but with our intelligence, we should seek all possible forms of pleasure in copulation, and everything else.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>With these two women I was satisfied till towards the end of August, both of them trying to make me see them much. Gabrielle for some fancy of her own took to calling me Monsieur Gabrielle. I did not see her nearly so often as Camille, but one or other I saw almost daily, Camille generally between luncheon and dinner, Gabrielle after dinner. I have seen both on the same day, and then both were fucked; but I usually copulated but once daily. I was in good health, and one daily emission of semen kept me so, and seemed as needful to me as sleep. I had much lewd pleasure in comparing mentally their two cunts, their being a most striking difference in the look of the two.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was so amused with them that year, that I would not leave till near September. Then, "You've stopped all the long days, and the hottest weather, when I wanted to be by the seaside, and now I won't go at all." I was glad of it, and without waiting for change of intention in that quarter, had my things packed up, and without delay, took myself off to the healthy, but vulgarish town of M**g**e. It was a place where I expected a little fun, a few kisses from healthy lips, and a little intrigue perhaps, and the chance of getting some young healthy, 'unfucked cunt. I know pretty well now that with town-women out for a brief holiday like most of those who go to M**g**e; that idleness, better air, more and better food than they are accustomed to, heats the cunts, and makes many a modest one long for a male, and discontented with, her middle-finger.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I had not been at my hotel a day, before I met an intimate friend with his wife and eldest daughter, a girl of fourteen. He had taken the upper part of a house over a shop, being a man of but moderate means, and intended to have brought two other children, and a maid, but something prevented that. I liked both him and his wife, and at his suggestion went to occupy one of his rooms, and live with them (paying my share). I found the rooms were over a greengrocers, which I didn't like, and think I should have cried off, had I not seen that the servant was a healthy, fullfleshed bitch, and I thought there might be a chance of prodding her, like Sally on a previous autumn.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The house newly built, and evidently for lodgings, was bigger, more comfortable than most of its class, and had a side or private entrance-door, opening on to a passage separated from the shop but with a door into it at the end where also was a kitchen with a bedroom over it, and a water-closet, all looking into a little garden with one or two trees in it. The sitting and bedrooms over the shop were occupied by my friend and wife, and of two rooms above, one was mine, and one his daughter's; the attics the landlady and the servant I thought occupied. There was also leading out from the staircase, the bedroom over the kitchen which my friend had also hired, to avoid having strangers in the house with them. This was entered from the staircase-landing, as was the lodgers' water-closet, a convenience which few such houses had then.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The shop seemed flourishing. Any one going in at the private door could not fail to see the whole of the shop, down to a small parlour having a window on to the garden. The first thing I noticed was a strong, healthy, red-cheeked, saucy-looking girl about sixteen years of age, with a curly but dishevelled head of deep-red oloured hair, a very unusual and peculiar deep-red, and but rarely seen. The girl standing at the shop-front stared hard at me when I arrived, and nudged a big boy about fifteen years old who was halfsitting close by the girl, upon a sack of potatoes. The girl called the woman of the house "Aunt." She attended to the shop I found when the aunt was away (cooking chiefly when so). The boy took home the goods purchased, and left nightly after closing the shutters. Red-Head slept in the attics over me, and took off her boots at times as she went upstairs, so as not to -make a noise over the lodgers' heads,-the aunt slept there .also. They two eat in the kitchen or the shop-parlour.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I was at once cheery with the servant, but it did not promise much. The red-haired one (another Louisa, and called Loo), pleased me, though I did not like her hair. She spoke so loud, laughed so heartily with customers, took chaffing, lifted such heavy weights, and then flung her short petticoats about so much in moving her haunches, that I longed to pinch her. She looked so hard at me (and also my friend), when we passed the shop, for she was generally at the door, and often outside ft, goods being placed there, that I made up my mind she had just come into the first lusts of womanhood, and was pretty strongly in want of a man.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>In a day or two I was buying fruit two or three times daily. "Keep the change Loo (I hear that's your name), it will buy you some ribbon.' 'Oh, thankee sir,' and she put it quickly into her pocket without hesitation. Emboldened I gave her half a crown. 'Keep the change, and you shall give me a kiss for it. Into her pocket it went. She looked quickly towards the back of the shop, there was the boy. She slightly shook her head. "I can't," said she In a low voice, taking the change out of her pocket and tendering it to me. I winked, pushed out my lips as if kissing, and left the shop, leaving her the change. The boy was out of sight somewhere when I was buying the fruit. Between eleven and one c'clock she was mostly alone, her aunt in the kitchen, the boy out, and the same for an hour or two in the afternoon. Unfortunately those were the bathing and promenading hours, so there was difficulty in getting at the girl unobserved, but nothing stood in my way when runt-hunting, and never had. From always thinking how, and where, I all my life have got my opportunities with women. I also found that of an evening, her aunt just at dusk went out at times to get, I heard her say, a mouthful of fresh air. Then the girl was alone with the boy till he left.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>About the fourth night, the boy had left, Loo was alone in the shop-parlour, my friends upstairs. I went out (as I said), to have a cigar, and a stroll, but when just at the bottom of the stairs the shop-door in the partition opened, and Loo appeared. "Hist, - hist," said I. She stopped, I caught hold of her, and kissed her. "Oh! don't, Mary [the servant] is in the kitchen." I kissed again. "Oh! don't." "You owe me a kiss." "Oh! not here, go to the front-door," said she. I did. She came there, just outside the door, but up against it, she kissed me, and went rapidly back. "I'll wait for you as you go to bed," I said, and did so with slippers off. </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>About half-past ten she passed my bedroom. I heard Miss **** moving about in the room opposite to me, but on the landing I pinched Loo's bum hard, very hard as she passed. She winced, and passed on very quickly, shaking her head and smiling, candle in hand. I put my head down shamming to look up her, clothes. We were intimate already, I had begun double entendres which she took, and I began to think that the fresh-looking, saucy one, young as she was, knew a prick from a cucumber. Then I found that the servant went home each night to sleep.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I hadn't been at M**g**e a week before I wanted female assistance, and picking up a casual, and thinking of my intention, gave her five shillings to show me a baudy house or two, which she did. One, a very quiet one, was in the old part of the town over a china-shop. Parting with the woman I strolled on to the beach, and met her there again, and felt her cunt, I sitting on a seat, she standing by the side of me. My cock stood, and I gave her money for a poke. It was not a dark night. "Here is sand low down," said she, "no one will notice us when we are lying down." But a fear came over me, I told her so. "Well I've got your money, and if there was anything the matter with me, I'd hardly ask you to have me, I'm here every night, and live up at ' ** with my mother." Then near to the waves, she laid on her back on the soft dry sands, and I fucked her, and enjoyed her very much. "How do you wash your curt?" "I piddle now, and wipe it with my handkerchief, down there (nodding her head), there are rocks and pools of water, I'm going to wash it there, I always do after gents," and she went off to do it.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Next day buying something, "Come Loo, and kiss me in the passage." "I can't he'll be going out at half-past eleven." Excusing myself from accompanying my friends, I was at the lodgings at that hour. The servant above had then all the beds to make, and the aunt was cooking. It was risky, yet I had a brief talk with Loo in whispers in the passage, and kissed, and hugged her, and told her I had fallen deeply in love with her. I had not begun smut, but her bold manner made me wonder why I had not. That afternoon I overheard a quarrel between her and her aunt, and saw Loo wiping her eyes. Loo said to me when I told her what I had heard, that she wished she'd never come, and would sooner go to service.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>I noticed also, for I was dodging in and out all day, and listening in the passage where I could hear much said in shop and parlour, what seemed to me a very familiar manner between the girl and the boy. One day he took her round the waist. She, seeing me enter the shop, pushed his hand away and boxed his ears. He stooped, pulled her petticoats a little way up, and then suddenly appeared very busy. Evidently she had given him a hint. It annoyed me, and I wondered if the boy had felt her. I did not quite give up hopes of the maid, who looked fiveand-twenty. I kissed her, and gave her a little present for cleaning my boots nicely. She took that fairly well. Then I felt for her notch outside her clothes. She repulsed me violently, and with a look which I didn't like. So for a time I desisted, but recommenced, and at length kissed her every time I got her alone. My friend's daughter caught me at it, and her father spoke to me. He didn't mind, but his wife did, I must take care, it wouldn't do to let a young girl see that game going on. Nothing more was said, but I noticed that he and his wife looked after me. One night when we were walking out alone, he said, "You want that woman, and a damned nice woman she looks, if my wife wasn't here I'd try to get her myself, but for God's sake don't let either of the ladies catch you, it won't do."</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>The young lady's room was opposite to mine, and such was my insatiable desire to see females in deshabille or nude, that it passed through my mind to bore a hole (which I had done at foreign hotels) through her door, to spy her. I could have done so, but I did not, though I could not restrain myself from listening to hear when she piddled and a few times succeeded. Then I thought of her piddle and little hairless cunt, which gave me such pleasure, that I quite felt a liking for the girl, but not sexually, and brought her presents which pleased both her and her parents.</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>In a fortnight I had often kissed Loo, and pinched her bum till she said it was blue. I told her I should like to sleep with her, for I loved her, this was on the first night she got out for a walk at dusk. I had heard her aunt say she'd keep a tight hand on her, and I found Loo was fast almost to a gallop. We walked and sat down on a beach-seat. "How can you love me? you're married, Mary heard Mrs. L**g saying so." "I never said I wasn't, but I hate her, and do nothing to her, and love you." "Oh! gammon," she replied. I had now a little changed my opinion about the girl. She wanted to know the meaning of my "doing nothing," was free in manner, and any delicate smut which I began using she answered frankly to. "Oh! I knows what you means well enough, but don't you go on like that." I concluded she had been brought up with coarse people who spoke of all their wants, and acts openly, so that the girl saw no harm in such things. She had only been with her aunt that summer. She told me of her relatives, and where they lived in Northumberland, there was a large family, but that was all I could get out