A Paris Hotel. • Big key hole, and spy hole. • A newly married couple. • Unsuspicious. • “Hush Charles.” • Marriage rights exercised. • “Are you awake Emma.” • A noble prick. • They fuck and I frig. • Da capo. • Thighs up, cunt paddled in. • She on the pot. • The key hole suspected. • My prick exhibited. • I make their acquaintance. • My voluptuous thoughts. • They change their room. • I leave Paris. • Switzerland. • At a smallish village. • A woman washing linen. Naked wet legs. • Suggestive conversation. • A Louis for a feel. • The Chalet off the track. • On the hay with her. • A hurried grope and rapturous fucking. • The Chapel. • The dancing barn. • Against a fence. • At the Chalet again. • The Brothel at B***e.

At Paris I had a great treat. Arriving there late, the Hotel was quite full, and they put me into a top floor, where the room was poorly furnished, the doors shaky, the partitions thin and floors naked, so I could hear people talking in the rooms on either side of me. Making the best of it, and sitting for a short time quietly reading, before going to bed, I suddenly heard a man and woman’s voice in the adjoining room. They had just arrived, and were grumbling at the accommodation, asked for this and that, and had the beds (there were two) placed in the room in the way which pleased them. As if to help me, they had one bed pushed to the other side of the room, left as placed by the hotel keeper, against my partition, I should have seen nothing, but now my eye through a large keyhole of which I had the key, covered the whole of the lady’s bed as it turned out to be.

They were quite young people, I found from their loud talk that it was their first visit to the continent, and they had only been married a few days. They were evidently ignorant of key holes and spy holes, and behaved with freedom accordingly. The lady pissed opposite to my door by the side of her bed, her husband did likewise, holding the pot in one hand, his tool in the other, and standing close to her and talking during the operation. They were a long time afterwards unpacking their trunks. It was a hot night. The man afterwards stripped naked, and approaching her, holding his tool, “My love” said he, “we shall do it on a French bed to-night.” “Oh Charles, hush, if anyone should hear.” Charles laughed, in a few minutes as she was in her night-gown, he laid her on the bed, kissed her cunt for a second, and fucked her naked as he was. She had her night-gown on. They were fond of each other, and it was delicious to see their fondness and lust. I envied them, and could scarcely restrain myself from frigging.

Their love-making over, he retired to his bed which I could not see, and the light was put out. I awakened at day light, on hearing the man say “Emma — are you asleep?” — “No” — “What a noise they are making in the next room, on the other side.” — After a few more words, he got out of bed, went to the door of the adjoining room opposite to mine and listened. I had put my eye to the key hole, jumping out of bed directly I heard my neighbours were awake, and anticipating a treat. “They are going away,” said he, speaking of the people in the next room. Then he opened the window blinds, and broad day-light came into their room. Apparently now aware from hearing so much, that they could be heard, they talked in a low tone. He sat on the side of her bed, and kissed her, put his hand under the bed clothes, and I could guess from his position was feeling her cunt. She lay quite still looking up at him for a minute or two both seeming in silent enjoyment of the groping.

Then still with his right hand under the clothes, he pulled open her night dress with his left, and freed a handsome pair of breasts, kissed them, and they kissed each other’s mouths for a minute. Then sitting upright again, and lifting his night shirt up, out stood a ramp-ant, red tipped prick of noble dimensions. — “Look, feel it love.” I heard him say, laughing quietly. — She put out her right hand gently, and grasped the noble stem. It was a little hand which only hid half of the prick. She moved it now up, now down the stem, restlessly, not with a frigging action, but as if she wanted to feel every part. — Whilst doing so he threw the clothes off of her, and pulled up her night-gown. — I saw her naked limbs, his body hid the spot where his fingers were moving still.

Again he leant forward kissing her, still feeling her cunt, she his prick. They spoke but I could not hear what they said. He rose up, she got out of bed and piddled, he at the same minute threw off his night shirt, and stood start naked with prick stiffer than ever. He was a fine young man with light hair. For an instant he sat on the bed, smelling with much seeming satisfaction one of his fingers which had just left her cunt. As she got up from the pot, he remarked that the beds were “So damned small” that he must get off when they had done. — “If you lay against the wall you can’t fall” said she. I heard this as well as if I had been in the room. There was for a minute no noise, there were no carpets in the rooms, and the gaps round on the door were wide and many, as usual in old hotels on the upper floors.

He wanted her to take her night gown off but she re-fused, and seemed modest about it. He insisted — “you shall Emma.” — “I won’t then, Charles. — What next.” — “You must love, you have to.” — Then I heard no more for he turned towards her and his backside to-wards me. She had got into the bed. — They then laughed. — “No.” — “yes.” She had her way and did not —but he pulled her night-gown right up above her largish breasts, so that her limbs and body were quite naked from toe to bubby, and I saw sideways, a slightly haired motte of a dark colour. She was a dark eyed, dark haired woman, certainly not more than nineteen years old, and superbly handsome. He looked about four and twenty.

Without more than a look, and a kiss on her cunt, he mounted her. Kneeling first between her distended legs, he shook his noble prick; and then rapidly, too rapidly, without dalliance plunged it up her cunt. I could see every movement of their bodies, could see his tongue put into her mouth, the clip of his hand on the right cheek of her arse, every wriggle and every muscle move, as the two happy ones fucked with the strength and energy of youth and love. It was an exquisite sight but alas too short. They hurried their pleasure. He too young to care how soon he ejaculated his spunk, knowing (as I know) that at his age more would soon be in the storehouse of his balls.

Soon, with kisses, and murmurs of pleasure, which I heard in the quiet morning, his legs stretched out. Her legs fell flat on the bed and they were motionless. — A minute before every muscle of their young bodies was in energetic movement, now both lay as dead, her head turned up, his slipped off to the side, with face towards her, their eyes closed. — I saw it all perfectly.

Gradually he slipped right off of her, and his rump lay against the wall, she still on her back. Soon he re-covered, his left hand began feeling her breasts, he said something I could not hear, and she turned on her side towards him. He slid his right arm under her neck, pulled her head to him and they kissed. They talked but I couldn’t hear a word. She turned more on to her side, they were close together on that narrow bed, and her right leg then went up high over his thigh. Then higher as if he had told her (I have no doubt he did) and I saw the whole of her body, from blade bone to heels. Her buttocks separated owing to the posture, and the dark haired chink of the cunt appeared, and at the same instant his fingers feeling from her bum hole to clitoris. Now slipping in and out, now sliding here, there, and everywhere; and I heard kisses louder and louder, and not another sound.

My prick had been standing since their love-making began, and now throbbed as if it would burst. I could restrain myself no longer, and looking at his fingers paddling in her spermatised cunt, frigged myself, and spent a shower of sperm against the door, kneeling on the bed pillows with my eye to the keyhole as I did it.

I looked at my sperm with baudy pleasure as it clung in masses on the door panel. I was fancying whilst spending that I was doing it in the lady’s cunt, and was still kneeling, now looking at the couple lasciviously playing, now at my sperm, but never relinquishing my prick. I had none of the disgust at myself which I usually have after frigging, for it seemed to me as if my sperm was in the lady, and not on the door — as if all three had participated in the same pleasure; but I kept longing intensely for the lady, and envying her partner who was still dabbling in the glutinous mixture on her vulva. How shocking this would seem to some. — How exquisite the love, lust, and lewedness, seemed it me.

How long we all three were thus, I can’t say, perhaps a quarter of an hour. Then gently she turned on to her back again, and he half raised himself to look at her quim. To help him she hung (no doubt from her manner at his direction) her right leg down outside. He, with his left hand fingers distended her cunt-lips, and looked long and earnestly at it. “Tell me,” I heard him say, for his face was towards me. Then her left hand sought his tool. Already it was stiff, I saw the tip, and so they fingered for a minute or two each other’s genitals.

Then all at once as if at his request, — for she was modest — She stuck up her right leg as high as she could lift it, and I saw more plainly, that he was simply distending her cunt-lips with his left hand. They talked and laughed as she did this, but I couldn’t hear a word, for people in the room adjoining mine were making a noise. Soon the happy couple resumed fucking. He mounted her now a little sideways, whether intentionally, or owing to the bed I know not, but the position let me see sideways the movement of her right buttock. They took their time in fucking, now stopped and kissed, and then went on again.

As they fucked, I gently frigged myself, wanting to spend when they did. They laid quite quiet so placed for a minute, and then I suppose obeying him, up high went her right leg again. He clasped it under his arm, and pulled her more sideways to him. Now I saw partially his noble prick, now pushing up her cunt, now out it came nearly to the tip, then plunged up her and was buried, and his balls lay partly on her thigh. — Quick — quicker, now furiously he thrust, and I frigged, and just as I saw him wriggling his prick up her without thrusting, out came my sperm against the door again.

Then her right thigh laid quietly over his, and I could see that his prick was still in her cunt, for it was a brilliant morning. Then down went her leg, obscuring my view of the parts which we hide from all but our be- loved. She pulled up the bed clothes over his naked body, pulled down her night gown partly over her bum, and so half naked they slept. I jumped into my bed and dozed off, thinking I had seen a sight I would have given fifty pounds to have seen.

When I awakened and peeped, she was on the bed alone and asleep. I wiped off my sperm from the door, and dressed myself, peeping, and awaiting further movements. At length I saw them moving about but nothing of their ablutions. They still seemed unaware of the facilities for seeing and hearing, in an old fashioned French hotel, and from their talk, felt now sure they were on their marriage trip. I had the pleasure of seeing her put on most of her garments. How sweet a lovely young woman looks under any clothing. Then peeping out of my door, for I had an intense desire to get near her, to gloat upon her, I watched them go down stairs to the table d’hote room, and following seated myself as near as I could to them. I watched her whilst she eat her breakfast, scarcely able to keep my eyes off of her. I fancied I saw her with his prick moving up and down her cunt between her fair round bum cheeks, and her thigh up in the air, held there, by his arm, and who would have thought that that sweet, modest looking woman, would have cocked her leg up so like a well paced harlot, or that the fingers of that quiet man buttering his bread, had an hour before been bathing them in his wife’s cunt.

I knew now by experience in all amatory matters, what a young couple placed as they were, were likely to do. That change of air and food, in travel, would stir the concupiscence of both, and was right in my conjecture. So soon as they rose from their breakfast, so did I, and got to my bedroom as fast as possible. A maid was making my bed, and I hurried her out of my room. Then peeping, I found she went to the room of the young couple, and no sooner there — than the young couple came in, and turned her out, saying that they should go out and she could make the bed then. The lady took out some clothes and for a time they chatted, tho I heard nothing. Then she loudly said. — “No, let’s go out and see the town, I’m dying to see it, wait till night.” — There was quiet laughter and scuffling. “Don’t make such a noise Charles, hush!” and their voices dropped. — I felt sure he had begun something. Soon he was sitting on her bed-side, his hand up her petticoats, she standing by the bed-side nearly in front of him, with her bonnet on. She laid hold of his head with both hands, and kissed him, and I guessed that his titillation was awakening her lust. Then she bent slightly forwards, and I guessed was feeling him, but I heard nothing. They had now arranged it, for leaving him she took off her bonnet and returned. He had sat still and pulled his prick out. — She laid on the bed-side, he pulled up her clothes, but I could not see her split, for he stood in front of her. Then he put pillows under her head, and for the moment her legs dropped, but tho I then saw her motte, the thighs were closed and hid the split. How disappointed I felt. What would I not have given to have been or even seen between her thighs wide distended, that lovely, enticing, red lined gap of womankind.

He threw his coat on the bed, loosened his trousers, she raised her legs, and playfully for a minute he joined her heels together, and raised them up as high as he could, looking down, I suppose, to the slit pouting out between the closed thighs, as the cunts of women do in that posture. The next moment her legs were over his arms, his prick was up her, and ramming with energy, his trousers fell down to his heels, his shirt covered his rump, and all I could see was the shaking of the linen as his rump wagged beneath it. She had silk stockings on, and her legs were fleshy. In two or three minutes they were in silent bliss. Then whilst I looked at them fucking, tho feeling at the same time annoyed at my waste of sperm, I frigged myself furiously.

He uncunted and just as he did so, to my astonishment he pushed her legs up in the air, and holding them up, dropped on his knees and looked at her quim. “Don’t — now — Charles — I don’t — like it — don’t” —” said she spasmodically, struggling and loudly laughing, but by her tone evidently annoyed. They then left that bed. I heard china rattle out of my sight, and just then some one must have knocked, for he bawled out something. Then some one entered, and said they could change their room if they liked. There were questions asked about price, and they decided to remain. She asked who was in the room next to them, my room.

They went out after this, and I saw nothing till five o’clock, when she by herself was changing her dress for dinner. All day spite of the relief I had given my-self by fist fucking, I was as lewed as I could be, mad to see more of her, and to see his big prick; and more-over a desire to handle that prick, and frig it, took possession of me. I didn’t check my desires however naughty they might seem, but let my imagination revel in baudy possibilities. (This I am more and more indulging in lately and afterwards debating mentally whether they are permissible or not.) I resolved now to frig myself again, seeing her as she stood in her petticoats looking most inviting, with half naked breasts, and naked arms and legs, showing almost to her knees.

She sat down to piddle, and in doing so seemed to fix her eye on the door. Instantly I felt sure that a suspicion had crossed her mind, and that she would come and peep. Instead of plugging the key hole with paper, a lascivious delight came over me as I thought I would show her my prick, so sat down quickly on a chair fronting the keyhole, pulled my prick and balls well out of my trousers, and frigging my stiff prick gently, sat still. I felt sure I had seen, soon after, some one at the keyhole, that she had seen my prick, and I was delighted.

After a while I peeped again. She was dressed and moving about, glancing as I fancied at my door as she passed, and felt sure she would peep again, if she had once done so, I pushed a chair to such a spot, that lolling in it I could see light through the keyhole, took up a newspaper, and seeming to read it, held it so that I could look over its edge at the keyhole. Soon the key-hole darkened for some minutes. All that time I kept my prick stiff so that she might see it well, and felt great delight at the idea of her having seen another prick stiff besides her husband’s. Would she tell her husband? I wondered, and did she? most likely not. — Did I make her lewed? It was quite possible.

Her husband came in — they went down to dinner as did I, and was placed at the table d’hote not far from the lady, who after dinner did not seem embarrassed when I addressed her some civilities, nor to recognise me. Her observations through the keyhole, were no doubt mainly directed to my prick. I got also into conversation with him, thinking of his prick and his vigour. Soon after dinner they went out.

I went to my room, and waited the whole evening in expectation. They came in about ten o’clock. Soon after I looked, and the key hole was covered. Mounting a chair, gimlet in hand, I bored a hole in the direction of her bed, and saw him, but in night-gown this time, fuck her — but I could not see so well as I had done through the key hole which was in the exact position to cover the bed. Then the light was put out, and I went to bed.

The desire still on me I awoke early, but they slept late. — When up, and he had opened the blind, again he fucked her. I had pushed out the paper which I found had been put in the hole, and saw the carnal movements well. After her pleasure, she turned her head round as she lay, and I am sure looked at the key hole, but not so he. — One grind sufficed them and they dressed. — I had mounted a chair to get to my gimlet hole, and had plugged up the key hole. — Breathless, I heard her moving there, tho I could not see her, being so close to the door as we both were — but she soon stood a little way off looking at the paper plug in her hand, which she had inserted in the key hole. Then again she came to the keyhole.

Now from my little spy hole, bored tho not in quite the right direction, I saw the wash-hand stand, and she wash her cunt, that pretty sight. Never does a woman look sweeter, than when squatting with clothes well off her thighs, she washes her cunt, yet on the re-verse side, as well as I know, when squatting for a solid evacuation, how ugly does she look. Certainly less beautiful to me.

Then came more than usual disgust at myself for frigging, and directly after breakfast I went to a baudy house, had the women roused from their sleep, and fucked the selected one till neither fingers or cunt would make my prick stand.

I didn’t see the couple till dinner time. Went after-wards to my room fucked out it is true yet lustfully waiting for my treat. I heard a gruff male voice — the beds were shifted – strangers were in the room. — The couple had moved to another room. — Did they know I was in the adjoining room to them? — Who can say – did he ever know of the key hole? I think not, but who can tell? Did the young bride keep to herself that she had seen my prick through the key hole? Most likely.

Having spoken to them, I pushed my acquaintance, which seemed very welcome to them, for they had not travelled, whereas I had travelled much, and my experience they seemed glad of. I smoked with him, — wondering how his prick looked as he sat, and felt as if I could see clean through her petticoats as I talked to her, and never did so without a cock- stand. I hazarded one day a little smutty remark. She would not take it, but I saw that she understood it. Then every evening almost, disgusted at the recollection of my masturbation, I assuaged my lust with a gay lady — thinking of the chaste exercises I had witnessed through the key hole of a bed-room door, for I suppose it is chaste if people are married — and abominably lustful if they are not. This lasted for ten days, when the couple left, and I left the day after.

[I have since seen scores of all sorts of couples at baudy houses, fucking there, and lascivious embraces of modest and immodest, in their maddest lust. But doubt if I ever yet have seen anything, so delicately and exquisitely voluptuous, as this newly married couple doing it. From dozens of gimlet holes in doors, I also have seen since, much variety partially, but no fucking so completely.]

Soon afterwards — tired of Paris and its heat, I left for Switzerland, and passed there many weeks. Women I had not often, but had plenty of exercise, and healthy fatigue, which made me care, or rather think, less about them. But when the want came on, it did so violently. In the mountain villages, it was difficult then to get any women at all, or if any they were of a low class. With one exception I find that I had none of them in those places. The exception was at * * * *, where wandering by myself in a meadow, smoking after dinner towards dusk, I saw a strapping woman washing linen in a brook. She had naked feet, short petticoats, and was rinsing linen by shaking it about in the stream and letting it float down, she holding one end, and squatting as she did so — with her petticoats tucked tightly between her legs, so as to prevent them getting wet.

The attitude, which was nearly that of a woman piddling, her large white calves, and the big bum which showed through slight clothing, roused my prick. In my mind’s eye, I saw a red cunt gaping between two large white thighs, with two white globes in the back-ground, as I have often seen them over pot and basin, when lovely women of all colours and sizes, have squatted and pissed to gratify my eye-sight. My prick rose up with a positive jump as I fired with lust at the sight of her, and the thoughts she aroused in me.

I had approached her half from behind, and had, before she squatted, tho but for an instant only, seen her standing a little in the stream, with petticoats still tighter beween her legs, and legs naked above the knees. Then she afterwards squatted as told. She had not noticed me approaching her.

After she saw me, she caught up the linen, wrung it, put it into a basket, and put another piece in the stream. I accosted her, impelled by lust, to say any-thing to begin a conversation. — “It’s cold to your legs,” said I in French. — She laughed and answered me in German. —”Nein.” — Then I spoke in bad German, wasn’t she cold when up to her knees? — “A little.” — “Don’t it make you feel cold higher up in your thighs.” — She laughed louder. — “Nein, nein.” — She was accustomed to it.

I hesitated, fearful that she might be married — but her sturdy form appealed so strongly to my lust, that I hazarded it and said I was sure she was cold there — “I’d like to feel, and would give a Louis to feel if she was hot or cold.” — Now she hung her head on one side away from me, tho she laughed heartily but saying, “no—no.” — I pulled a Louis out of my purse, and held it up in front of one of my eyes, as if I was looking through it, and repeated my offer. — “Look here my love.” — She looked round and laughed more heartily than ever.

Hoisting the wet basket against one of her hips, she turned round, and went towards the village. I kept close to her — speaking in French, and broken German mixed, till we approached a poor looking chalet or cow- house, which stood a little way up a steepish bank, off from the rugged, rocky path up which she trudged with naked feet. — She turned up that way, which I didn’t expect — stumbled and dropped her basket. “That’s your fault,” said she. — “It’s yours for not letting me feel. Is this your way home?” — “Yah, my relatives are there, and I wish you’d go, I suppose you’re stop-ping at the Falcon” — all this was said in a breath. — I told her I was.

We were then close to the loghouse, and its door was wide open. — It’s so difficult in Switzerland to do any-thing in the open without being seen, for from some rock, or corner, bush, or wood, or nook, you may be seen when you think you are quite secure — and the ears of the natives are so sharp at catching sounds. The chalet was in the meadow, but a, few feet from the half beaten track, and I saw my opportunity. — “Come, and let me see if you’ve taken cold there.” — and I laid hold of a bit of chemise sleeve, which covered her arm a little above her elbow. — “Come, here’s the Louis, let me feel.”

“Nein — nein” — but she looked at me with staring eyes, hard for a second, and instinct told me that the woman wanting fucking. — Then she looked up and down — then back over our path— and all round, in a stealthy way, as if to see if any one was in sight. Her keen native eyes and ears would have told her, where mine would have failed. I laid now hold of her arm, and uttering, — “Nein, leave me alone, sir” — she al-lowed herself to be dragged to the door of the chalet — laughing uneasily as she was tugged, and making a resistance which would not have broken a spider’s web, till we were inside — after treading in cow’s dung, which surrounded the door like a sea almost. Inside she put her basket down.

The next instant my hand was on a fat, well haired cunt, surrounded by thighs, and a backside which felt like marble. — I looked in dismay for a resting place to lie down, and had pushed her up against what looked like a wooden wall, intending an uprighter, when I saw it was a division with a rough gate and a wooden latch. Inside the chalet it was now darkish.

Lifting the latch, the door or gate swung back, I saw coarse hay, straw, or grass, rapidly pushed her down on it, and after a rapturous excited grope, and that lewed feeling of a woman, in which every part of her, from her navel to her back bone and hips, seems to be felt over in a second, I thrust my prick up her, and spent almost ere I had begun. I had been many days without a woman, and had even had a wet dream for want of one.

Quick as I was, she was as quick, and spent with me. She didn’t hide her love emotions. “I must get back, they will wonder where I am.” — “Speak in French if you can,” said I, not understanding quite. — She did. (Most peasants in that part speak both French and German.) “Lie still, I’m going to do it again.” — She slid her hand down between our bellies, and felt as if to see whether I spoke true or not. — I clasped her arse which I had scarcely done before, and went on fucking. I had filled her cunt, and in the dead silence of the chalet, only broken by the chirping of innumerable crickets outside, I could hear the flick-flack, as my prick and balls worked in the moisture, out and in of her overflowing cunt. — That noise ceased, as the friction and heat of our genitals, thickened it to a spermy paste, and then only came our murmurs as we spent together. Never did a cunt seem to be more delicious than that of the sturdy Swiss woman, whom I fucked twice without uncunting, plain faced tho she was.

She rose quickly, and seemed to have forgotten my gold. — “I must go to my home, they will wonder.” — “Here is the Louis, meet me again to- morrow.” — “No, I can’t and be silent about this, mein Herr’n.” — “Where do you live.” — “Over there, I am servant, but don’t come, — don’t see me — don’t talk about it.” — “Never maiden will I tell, but I must see you to-morrow.” — “No. I wash only every other day down there at eventide — but there are usually other maid-ens. — Good night.” — and off she tripped. — “Don’t come out with me.” And she shut the gate of the enclosure. — I waited some minutes in the chalet, so as not to compromise her.

I got back to the little hotel, and next day wanted a woman more than ever. — It is often so with me now. If I have not a woman for some days, I can for a while go on without them, then when I have one, I want to have regular copulation badly. — It was Sunday, and I strolled about and entered a small chapel outside the village, and there with a dozen or so of women and a few men, I saw this woman in native costume with shoes and stockings on, at prayers. — I scarcely recognised her, so nice and clean did she look, and she seemed not twenty-five, — whereas on the previous night I had guessed her over thirty. — Had she confessed to her priest? — oh, if a cunt could speak!

She recognised me and looked uncomfortable. — She seemingly was not married. — I waited outside the chapel till mass was over, and saw her go off with a strapping Swiss-man. How I longed for her, and envied him, for I made sure that he fucked her, and followed them at a distance thinking libidinously, till I could do so no longer without being noticed. I idled about all day as I usually do on Sundays, spying for her at intervals. In the evening, I heard at the end of the village, music in a sort of barn, attached to what in England would be called a low public house. Entering it, there was she dancing with peasants, with which the place was quite full. I did not see her morning’s swain. — She saw me, and it seemed to upset her and she danced no more. My entry indeed, seemed to have slightly checked them all.

Feeling this, I left without noticing her (she had not bestowed any recognition on me but a slight stare) but passing her, I muttered, “Come outside,” for my prick began again to tingle at the sight of her. In about a quarter of an hour out she came. It was quite dark. — I would have her — no she would be caught and must get home, they would be all out of the tavern soon, and all over the paths — we should be caught. — But trust a peasant woman in any country who had been fucked, for if there is any snug corner for fucking in, she knows it. — Soon I had her up against a shed, and fucked her. — What a bum and thighs she had. — The solidity of her flesh struck me, and what a lovely cunt — its smoothness, lubricity, and grip seemed perfect. She would not wait to give me a second pleasure, and was off with her cunt full, almost at a run.

Before she went, she said she would be washing at eventide next night. — But if other women were there what could she do, I must wait inside where I had had her — no one at that time would go there, and she would come if she could, but unless she could manage to stay till the last of them she couldn’t come to me, and how could she know if that would be so. — I suggested a dozen lies for being late. None she said would do, but hoping, we parted with that arrangement.

I hid myself in the shed an hour before the time, after seeing three or four women at the brook washing, but not she. At quite dusk however, I heard a tread. In she came, and fucked she was twice, before she de- parted. Now I felt that she had a splendid pair of breasts.

So exquisite did copulation seem with her, that I wanted to see the article which gave me so much gratification. I had not even had a glimpse of it, not even of her thighs, for all had been done in the nearly dark chalet. We were but ten miles or thereabouts from the town of B***e, where I knew a brothel. There was no railway then, but a cheap diligence ran along the road. — Could she meet me there? I told her that I longed to see, as well as feel, her charms.

Nothing will baulk a female of her fucking if she means it. — A day or so afterwards, she met me there in midday. — I took her to the house, and the woman refused me admittance. — She had three women there, and gentlemen came to see them, but she did not let out rooms — I was staggered, insisted, offered double the value of the room, and at last got one. — Behold me in the house with my Swiss, who was a sturdy one indeed. I could scarcely get up enough flesh of her thighs or backside, to pinch between finger and thumb. She was like marble. Her cunt was a clipper inside, and a pretty one outside, but she was a very plain faced, dark-eyed woman. I stayed with her four hours, fucked till I could not get a stiff one, and went back. She took her Louis. — The price of women at the house as I knew, was but five francs.

The man I saw her with outside the chapel was going to marry her. — “Bah, my dear, he has fucked you.” — “Never he. He would not marry me if he had,” she said. Her name was ***• She lived with her father and mother, and did all their work, and that was why she said she was a servant — and she averred that she was only twenty-one. — I might enquire if I liked, but I was satisfied and left * * * * * next morning, much relieved of spunk and much pleased with the ad-venture. A coarse wench like her is often as good as the finest lady I have ever yet had, at fucking, and is an agreeable variety. But how do they prevent getting in the family way? — This woman when I told her not to wash after’ my lubrication — acquiesced. — She was quite modest in manner, I had to coax a good deal before I saw her cunt and backside, had almost indeed a fight about it.

As the greatest heat of the summer was getting over, I crossed over the mountains with a friend, and leaving him to return to England, shaped my course towards the south of France, intending to go by sea to Southern Italy.