Volume 7 Chapter 2
At Aldershot. • The postage stamp. • The Major’s mistress. • The Railway carriage. • Carnal hints. • Carnal practice. • A pretty foot. • At the garters. • Head near tail. • A seductive priapus. • Upon the floor. • Upon the seat. • After dinner. • The Major’s tool. The lady’s vulva. • A screaming gamahuche. • Good bye. • Madeline the milliner. • My amatory career. • The sexual law. • The Crystal Palace. • After the dinner. • A brooch and garters. • A thigh recipient. • Overflowing testicles.
In the month of * * * * I had been at Aldershot to visit a friend. He came back with me to the railway station and left me there, the train to London had not arrived. — When it did, and just as I was about to enter a carriage, a tall, dark-eyed, handsome, and elegantly dressed young woman came up in haste and asked for a postage stamp of the guard. He said he could not get one, there was no time to go to the station master. The train was a quarter of an hour behind time. “Oh! do, pray, it’s most important,” said she. — “I’ll put it in the box Ma’am without a stamp.” — “Oh-no.” — At the instant I pulled out my pocket book and took out a stamp. “Here’s one, give me the letter.” She handed it to me, and I put on the stamp. “Wait, guard, a second only,” — and I rushed to the station master who just then appeared, and gave it him, turned back, saw the lady looking anxiously out of a first class carriage, jumped in to it with her, winking at the guard, who locked the door, and almost before I was seated, the train went off. It was an express to Waterloo.
The lady said she was deeply indebted to me and explained, as if in apology, why it was so important the letter should go off that night. Of course we got into conversation, and confidence begat confidence. — She had been to see Major ** * * of the ** * * * regiment by arrangement, and on arriving there found he had gone away. A telegram had sent him off to his mother who was dangerously ill — “Here is his letter,” said she, and I read it. It was in very affectionate terms, and signed — “John.”
Then I found out, tho she did not admit it in those words, that the Major kept her — I am too old a bird to believe all a woman tells me, but her tale seemed probable. Not that she volunteered much, but in talking it all came out; and I in return let her know some-thing about myself, and the reason of my being at the camp.
Gradually I ascertained that she had not seen the Major for a fortnight. His regiment had moved from ***** to Aldershot recently, and whilst arranging for moving, it was useless for her to have visited him. He liked all to be quiet when she went there, he objected to his brother officers knowing too much about her, and he did not know where his quarters for a night would be, and so it was impossible for him to get to town to her. — All was I knew quite in the order of things, when a regiment was changing quarters. It taught me at the same time that this fine young creature, who didn’t look more than three and twenty, must have been without a prick for a fortnight, unless she had had one that did not belong to the Major; and therefore must want that article badly, unless she had frigged herself vigorously or been licked by her maid, if she had a faithful fanatic at such amusements. — But I did not reason with myself much on the detail. — A fort-night without a lover, was enough to make me know she then must want a poke. I came to that conclusion before I had been in the carriage ten minutes.
The sensual fire which always seems smouldering in my balls then began to bum brightly. I had sat opposite to her, looking at her; now I moved to her side, saying that I didn’t like the wind in my face. Leaning on the arm which divided the seats, our faces were now closer together, and our breaths mingled. She had turned towards me, as I had towards her. But there was no desire in her eyes. — They were a dark pair, bright, but quiet looking. — I noticed that she was thin, had but slight signs of breasts and not much of back-side. — Those two exquisite parts of a woman that I love to see full and round, and feel solid and smooth. She didn’t seem my sort at all in form, but her face was lovely. Then I noticed that her foot looked thin and narrow, tho not very small, and was in a natty boot, and she had a little hand. Altogether she seemed a sweet and pleasing variety of the sex, and as I thought of her part by part, my cock swelled slightly.
“You miss the Major — you expected a husband and must remain a widow,” — said I, delicately feeling my way — “I wanted to see him of course.” — “Of course, and it’s hard to be disappointed as you meant to stop all night.” — “Yes, and had brought my things, but only to stop two days,” — and she pointed to a small valise, which had been put on the netting above us. — “It’s only a change, for he expected to come back to London with me.” — “To where?” said I. — Smiling, she replied, “To our house.” — “Let me go to the house with you, he won’t be there.” — “Oh, I dare not, what a proposal.” — But I saw a voluptuous smile in her face. “Let’s make this a house” — I was getting warmer. — “What a house,” said she, turning her eyes away, and I saw she understood me. — “A railway carriage isn’t much like a house.” — “Or a bed, but I’ve used one as both before now.” She laughed heartily. — (Neither sleeping cars, nor any convenience for night travelling then existed on any railway in England.)
She turned the conversation to theatres, but soon I got it to the amatory tone again — asked what she’d do sleeping alone, and got the usual evasive replies which a woman knows how to give when she doesn’t want you to see that she understands you. But all my questions and suggestions were to the bed and male society, for I know the subject heats a cunt that has been once fucked. — I played with her hand and buttoned her glove. — She let me do all that. — Then risking it, as lewed intentions made me bolder, “You must give me a kiss for my postage stamp.” — “No thank you, not for a penny.” — “You’d have given me fifty sooner than have lost the post.” — “That I would,” and she laughed. — “Then I’ll have them now,” and putting my hand round her, I pulled her to me and kissed her half a dozen times; there was but little difficulty in doing it. — “Now you kiss one of the fifty.” — “No thank you.” — Then I asked her to dine with me. As she wasn’t expected home, there would be no dinner there. — No, but she should get some tea and make it do.
I got as close to her as the arm between the seats (a fixture) allowed. — My leg met hers, and she didn’t move it away. Carelessly I laid my hand on her knee, and, pinching up a bit of the silk dress, admired it. — A minute after. — “You garter below knee,” I said, determined to see how far I could go, for three quarters of an hour would take us to London, and there was no time to lose. — “That I don’t, I garter above knee, how rude you are.” — “My God! I feel rude, and can scarcely sit still,” — and, again taking the seat opposite to her, praised her foot and boot, and asked who her bootmaker was. — “I shan’t tell you.” — “Well, let me look at your foot, it’s a slim and pretty one.” — Up she put it on the seat by the side of me. — I felt it, pinched the ankle, and as she didn’t flinch, rapidly ran my hand up to her knee, felt the garter, and just the flesh beyond, before she put her foot down.
She was angry, I was taking a mean advantage — I apologised, I could not help it. — “Your beauty has put me in such a state of desire that I’m in actual pain for want of you — how smooth your flesh is — and you do, I find, garter above knee” — and much more. To all she made no reply, but kept first looking out of the window, then at me, and so on.
Again I asked her to dine with me — would she give me her address. — “I won’t, I dare not. — It would do you no good, and it might do me harm.”
There was something in her manner which for the moment kept me at a distance from her. — But soon I went on quietly again, talking of the officers in camp who had their mistresses there, and told of one who made such a noise when with his lady, — “Embracing her in bed, you know,” — (I perceived that she knew well what I meant) that several heard him outside the hut, and chaffed him about it at mess. — Something of that sort had been told me, and I exaggerated it, and at intervals I felt my ballocks outside my trousers, looking her in the face, till she turned her head to the window and smiled at my remarks. I knew that she guessed the condition of my pego, that some of her smile was at that, and felt sure that lust was stirred in her. Now every second she looked at me, and then out of the window, then at me again, and I saw in her eyes voluptuous wants.
Then I seated myself again by her side. I soon clutched her to me and kissed her and said I was madly in love with her. — “It’s your fault — my God, what a state you’ve put me in! — Show me your lovely foot again.” — Coquettishly she put one foot on the opposite seat, I stooped, and had my hands on her thighs in a second. She crossed them catching my hand between them, but it was embedded in the hair. — I had not only broken ice but gone clean through it, and went on trying to force my hand further. “My darling, let me feel your cunt, only for a minute, let me feel it, just feel it, and I’ll take away my hand.”
“You shan’t, I’ll get out at the next station — Oho — ho — you — shan’t” — she cried as I threw myself on my knees, lifted her petticoats, and got my face on her thighs. Tho she resisted, my lust now unbridled made me strong. — Violently I got her thighs apart, my head between them, my nose on her motte, my lips near her clitoris. I could not get my mouth lower, but smelt the stimulating smell of a nice cunt that was yearning for a fuck — I am sure that the cuntal aroma in the sweetest women, intensifies, gets ranker even, when want of the male is on her. I cried, “I can smell your cunt, it’s delicious, open your thighs, let me kiss it, do, love.” I tried to pull her forward, but did not succeed, but I kept my head on her thighs and motte for some minutes, feeling round her buttocks, talking lewedness under her petticoats, till she ceased striving against me.
My head still where it was, I pulled out my prick, and rubbed it hard against her calf. “What am I rubbing against your leg? — Oh, let me have you.” — “Get up, get up now — don’t be foolish — Oh! if the guard should come. — I’ll call out for the guard.”
Up I got recklessly lewed, and sat down; my prick standing up stiff in front of her. Her eyes were humid and she stared hard at me. — “Oh, take care, here we are at the station.” The train just then slackened pace, and seemed as if going to stop. “Oh! how you frightened me, suppose it had stopped. — What should I have done? — how foolish you are.” — “I’ll put it bye if you’ll feel it, — feel it,” said I. — Taking her gloved hand, I put it round it. How smooth the kid felt to my sensitive rammer.
Soon her glove was off and she was feeling it with her naked hand; whilst my fingers were rubbing between the lips of her cunt, and how moist it was — I pulled her to me and kissed her. “Let me have you, let us fuck, love.” — “I won’t, how can you talk so, we can’t here. — Now leave me alone. — Oho — don’t — do leave off. — We shall be seen.” — We whisked past a station. “Oh, if my husband knew, I should be ruined for life. — Oh — I will dine with you then, and you shall after dinner. — I can’t take you home, I daren’t tell you where I live. — Oh! — I will after dinner — oh — now,” — and her backside and thighs moved with that uneasy yet voluptuous movement, that restless, wriggling of belly, buttocks, and cunt that a woman can’t help giving when a man is frigging her and the luscious sensation of complete lewedness, and the want of fucking, are coursing through her body.
I thought she might give me the slip at the station, and my chance would be lost. — I saw victory before me now and frigged on. — “We’ll fuck now, love, all’s safe here.” I rose up standing before her, my prick al-most touching her face, as she sat with her eyes fixed on it, whilst I begged her. — “I won’t, — I can’t lie down on the floor.” — “Take off your bonnet then and sit where you are.” She did. — I put cushion after cushion on the floor, to bring myself to a convenient height, then, kneeling down, I opened her thighs, threw up her petticoats, and, gently pulling her forward till her cunt was well away from the edge of the seat, and she was leaning back, I inserted my prick. Altho the angle at which it stood, and that of her cunt was not quite favourable, it glided up deliciously and plugged her to my balls. — Then, putting my arms under her thighs, I fucked her. — We looked in each other’s faces till our eyes closed in the swooning pleasure of the crisis my prick gushed out its sperm, her cunt tightened, gripped, and liquefied, in the blissful spasms of spending, and mingling our sexual juices.
Recovering ourselves, she gave no signs of desire to uncouple. Looking speechless in each other’s face (How I longed to know what she was thinking of), we held together. She was thin, but neither skinny nor bony; her backside not being great nor her cunt fat lipped; it was well on to me and kept my prick wonder-fully up her, spite of the movement of the train. (Some thin women, I have since noticed, can.) In the lovely warmth and embrocating moisture of her cunt, I lingered long; but at last withdrew my softened priapus from the Paphian temple. Putting my hand under it as I did so to receive it, a little flood of spendings rolled out after my prick left her. Telling her to be quiet, I got out my pocket handkerchief and put it to her cunt, which she wiped with it. Then I wiped my hand. “Ah, it’s nasty,” — said she. — “Nonsense, my love, neither prick nor cunt nor spunk are nasty at any time.” — Then we sat and talked. — “It was awfully quickly over.” — “It was — where is my bonnet?”
“That’s the consequences of asking for a postage stamp,” said she. — “Lucky for me,” I replied — We then talked about the Major ****. “Oh don’t mention him, poor fellow, he’d shoot me and himself too, if he knew what we have done. — I’ve never before been unfaithful.” — “But he won’t, my dear. — Let me feel it.” — “No, don’t, it’s so wet still,” — but I did, and was feeling it, and she my prick, and just then the train went slower and then stopped. — We thought we were at a station, but something had gone wrong with one of the carriages. Then a carriage was detached, the passengers distributed in other carriages, and the train moved off again. The guard had locked our door.
Whilst waiting, she stood looking out of the window, I sitting felt her bum, and by the time the train moved off, was game for another fuck. — She refused. — I insisted, pulled her up from her seat, and getting her to kneel upon the seat diagonally, with her backside towards me, I fucked her standing, and never enjoyed a cunt more. —”Oh! if Major **** knew,” said she again. — “But he never will, my love, for you’ve no tongue in your cunt, and it can’t speak.” — “Well, I never did hear such a beast.” — “You compliment me,” — I went on talking baudy, and she burst out laughing.
When we arrived at Waterloo, she wanted to leave me. There was no dinner for her, for she was not expected home, so I drove to K***s, got a private room, and ordered dinner. — We washed hands and face, and prick and cunt got their share of soap and water. — Then: “Now I will, it’s of no use your struggling, you shan’t leave this room till I’ve seen it” — and I did.
I saw her slim but well shaped thighs, and a small looking, rather pouting, but thin lipped cunt between them. It had not much hair of a nut brown colour. — Clitoris and nymphae were scarcely visible. — It was not a lovely cunt, tho no fault could be found with it, but it was a novelty, and again I stiffened, put my prick up, gave a dozen or two shoves, but not feeling impetuous desire, withdrew it. — The bed room was only given us to wash in, and we could not have it afterwards, so we got thro dinner as quickly as we could and drove off to a house. When we got there she was a little groggy.
At dinner she refused wine, saying that a little got in-to her head. — I thought it sham, pressed her, and filled her glass. — The champagne was good, and this was the result. — “Oh I’ve drank too much, how shall I get home?” — “No you mustn’t — I won’t tell you where, — I dare not.” She scarcely seemed to lose her wits, tho staggering, and I couldn’t get out of her either where she lived or her name. She laid on the bed at once, let me undress her, and said she was sleepy. “I’ll fuck you first.” — “Yes, fuck me.” — It was the first lewed word she’d uttered. — But a whim seized me. “No, I’ll gamahuche you.” — “What’s that.” — “Lick your cunt, may I.” “The Major does it more than anything” (laughing.) “Doesn’t he fuck you?” — “Sometimes” — I pushed my enquiries about his sexual tastes.
I am always curious about other men now — “Has he a big prick?” — “I don’t know, I think it’s little,” and she laughed. “Where do you live?” — “Shan’t tell you, ain’t you going to do it?” — “I’ll gamahuche you.” — “No, don’t, it makes me scream.” — “Scream?” — “Yes,” she said thickly — “It hurts me as well.” — Nonsense I thought. — Bringing her to the side of the bed, I wiped her cunt with a towel and began the libidinous exercise. It must have been because there was scarcely a vestige of clitoris or nymphae which made me, for never have I yet seen a vulva so devoid of those appendages. When the lips were opened, nothing was to be seen but the red lining and the vagina.
I found the excitable spot just above the little bone, and licked away gently. She soon felt my tongue, tho I thought she was nearly asleep. “Oh don’t! — oh put it in me.” — I went on furiously, — “Oh! — I’m coming — leave off — he — ha — hi” she yelled. “It hurts hi — I’m spending” — and she clutched my hair till I thought she’d scalp me. Ceasing, all was quiet for a minute. I recommenced. She was a shorter time in spending, and I never heard such screeches given by a woman in her pleasure. — “Oh — hi — her — hi — hi – ha — oh, I can’t bear it!” — She half raised herself, and then fell back, spending and exhausted. — “If you do it any more, I shall have a fit. I’m obliged to stop him sometimes, I’ve had fits through his doing it.”
I was still between her legs, squatting on my heels, when she said she should have a fit. But that, and her screeching, tho it irritated me, seemed at the same time to stimulate me to continue. — I felt as if I must have been giving her intense pleasure, and that de-lighted me. I threw her legs over my shoulders again, grasping them tightly, buried my mouth in her cunt and recommenced gamahuching. — “Oh don’t — I’ll have a fit” — grasping my head, she tried to raise her-self up, but fell back again as I tilted her thighs with my shoulders, spluttering out, my mouth half buried in her cunt. — “Spend, spend, love, — spend.” — On my tongue went, as rapidly as tongue could move. — Her bum shook, her belly heaved and jerked. — “Oh — leave — off — oh — my God — I am coming. — Oh Ahrr — oho” — she screamed till the room rang, and just as her pleasure spasm ceased and her backside lay tranquil — a servant knocked at the door and wanted to know what was the matter.
The sexual excitement then seemed to have sobered her, and a strong cup of tea I had brought revived her. I laid her on the bed again by my side, and heard all about the strangely exciting effect of gamahuching on her. I came to the conclusion that tickling her clitoris with his tongue, was the Major’s principal amusement and that he preferred it to fucking. — No doubt also from her description, his cock was a very small one. But as she sobered, she got less free in her revelations. — She had, however, declared that the Major two or three times had gamahuched her, till she had had some sort of fit — I never heard anything of the sort before, in any woman.
I stroked her twice more before leaving and really enjoyed her very much. Her cunt was deep and elastic, and such is the effect of novelty on me that I thought its thin externals gave it a great charm and added to my pleasure. — Certainly I laid unusually long up her after spending. Her cunt seemed to fit round my prick afterwards like a glove, and I put it in her and the sperm as well, till I withdrew. But her thighs and belly made it not such a luxurious bed to lie on after fucking as a stout, large thighed woman with a soft belly does.
(Tho I never heard a woman screech so loudly and painfully when being gamahuched, I have known more than one scream in a subdued but half maddened tone, but a tone of delight, when she spent, and several ejaculate the baudiest words and thoughts as erotic images rose up in their brain. — I myself cry out now in similar manner, when a charming creature draws the sperm out of me into her mouth. It is pleasure, to utter lewed words as my sperm issues.)
After the second fuck she was anxious to go, she had no latch key and began to wonder if they would be out, and up to tricks in her absence, as they didn’t expect her home; but I couldn’t learn who they were. — “No.” She became as close as wax. “Give me some silver, I’m unnerved — now don’t you follow me.” — I gave it her and nothing more, and off she went. She made me no promise of seeing me again. — No. If even she might like it, she wouldn’t, it would ruin her prospects. — If ever I saw her in camp. “If you’re a gentleman you won’t notice me. — I’m sure you wouldn’t like to ruin a poor woman.” — I was in camp several times afterwards, but forgot both the name of the Major, his regiment, and branch of service, so made no enquiries. — She named a place for me to write to, and gave me a name. I did write but never had a reply. She gave me a day’s delicious amusement. — I have had many such, but without such curious incidents.
Some weeks before this affair with the postage stamp lady. I began a flirtation with a pretty creature named Madeleine S***h, without meaning anything but to have the pleasure of talking to and being with her. — It ended in a liaison, very short and very sweet, and there was a voluptuous incident in it occurring to my-self, and not of an every day kind — I have in the after talk of dinners, and in the salacious disclosures of men in club smoking rooms, heard of similar physical crises occurring to men, and once, if not twice, recollect similar things having occurred to me. — Perhaps under sexual excitement they have occurred to many men in strong health. But I approach middle age, so the incident rather surprised me, tho it was gratifying as evidence of my sexual vigour and strength.
Sometimes I wonder at the amatory course I have run — and whether these temporary connections with women, these liaisons of lust, are forced upon me by circumstances, or whether I am instinctively seeking them? Whether it is the women who bring them about — or my self? — Which is it? — I cannot answer. — I know certainly when I seek them, when I am cunt hunting, as I term it. — But so many women (not courtesans) have fallen to my embraces (and in this narrative I have only told of my amours of a special character), as it seems to me by pure force of opportunity and circumstances, pure chance as it were; unless those seeking to form them were the women. Does a thirsty cunt and a hard scrotum set men and women together, without either of them intending or thinking about coition, until lust steals on, and strengthens, and modesty gradually vanishes, till the barriers of conventionality are broken by one or both, and they bend under the spell of concupiscence till they fuck? — Is it not the law of animal life that the male and female shall blindly and instinctively seek each other for copulation? Is it not in the great scheme of creation that they should? If so, why should they be blamed for satisfying this imperious want, this universal law, this blind necessity of fucking? Why should man frame laws, legal and social, for hindering man and woman from coupling, blending, and satisfying their love or lust’ whenever they like? — Love and lust are terms identical in meaning, synonymous; tho often the former is called pure, the latter foul. It is the priest who determines that. But again I ask myself, was it mine, or the women’s fault, or rather by whose virtue, that we fell into each other’s arms and copulated? — and whose fault or virtue was it, that Madeleine and I came sexually together for a brief while?
A few days after I had had the postage stamp lady, I went to the Crystal Palace (then a fashionable lounge on certain days, it not having been opened many years, expecting to meet a nice creature, a dress maker, who was about twenty years old. — She had worked at my house for years previously when quite a girl, but was now well grown and womanly for her years. — I had often noticed her years before, and one day gave her a sly kiss, and half a crown on some pre-text. — I lost sight of her when I gave up that home as a freed man, and then met her by chance one evening a year or so after. I found she was still a milliner, and seemed as modest as one might desire, took her, spite of her reluctance, to have a glass of wine, and, giving her my arm, walked some part to her way home with her. It was in the suburbs, and in the dark I gave her a kiss, which she liked, then tried to feel her unsuccessfully; tho I got a touch on her thigh and made her cry, gave her a sovereign, and a kiss which I made her re-turn, and never saw her again till recently, two years after my unsuccessful attempt at groping her. Now she seemed to me quite gay and frolicsome, she was an under forewoman at Mrs. * * * * * a dressmaker, and had she said, a sweetheart. She was a very handsome creature, with soft grey eyes and lovely auburn hair. — I got it into my head that she, like most milliners, fucked on the sly, a little for love and a little for silk dresses. She told me when I met her, which I did three days after my visit to Aldershot, she was going on Saturday to the Crystal Palace. I said I should do the same. She remarked that she knew that I could do as I liked now. — Her name as already said was Madeleine S* * *h.
To my annoyance, I found she was with a friend, a milliner, who looked to me as frisky, as if two pricks would suit her better than one. Getting hold of Miss S***h, I told her I was so vexed, for I wanted her to dine with. She was sorry, but her friend’s young man would meet them at four o’clock. — Then said I, “Well miss them, and you come out and dine with me.” That she agreed to, I went off, found a quiet sort of half restaurant, half tavern (houses of that class were just then springing up there), ordered dinner in a private room, paid half down at once, and went back to the Palace.
It all came off as arranged, and at about five o’clock, when some music was over, which she wanted to stay for — we left quietly and had dinner. She eat and drank well, and seemed as frisky as a grass-hopper. — I’d not hinted at anything. Beyond the convenience of the sofa in the room, and my hoping it would bear the weight of two restless people, I had said nothing concupiscent in its tone, tho I was longing for her during dinner. For since the unknown postage stamp lady, I had kept myself from women. — The cloth removed, the waiter gone, I brought her to the window to look out, put my arm round her waist, kissed her, and said I thought she ought to kiss me for the dinner. — After a very little sham she did, and we kissed each other quite amorously. Then I sat down on the sofa where I meant now to experiment on her virtue, and pulling the table a little nearer, and pouring out wine, began.
As I usually do, I first told suggestive stories, then smutty ones, but without baudy words. She laughed at them all. — “Oh, my! — He was up to his tricks.” — “Oh what a shameful story!” and so on. — She didn’t blush, but got excited, and I thought all was right. Ever and anon I kissed her. She wouldn’t tell her sweetheart, she said, for she had one who was going to marry her. Then I began about her garters, asked if her lover had ever put them on for her. What next should I imagine. “Of course not.” — Why should she refuse him? I asked. — “It wouldn’t be proper.” – “That’s not the reason.” “What is it then?” — “You fear he’d put his hand higher up between your thighs?” — “Oh, you blackguard, to talk like that.” — She tossed her head. — “And feel your cunt, Madeline?” I continued — she gave me a smack on my head. — “If you talk like that I’ll go.” What a lot of women have said they would smack my head, and some have, but not very hard.
“What’s the harm, my darling, even if your lover did, and what’s the harm of calling it that if I say your thing, you know it means the same.”
— “Oh, you black-guard!” —I went on in the same strain and pinched and tickled her till she screeched. “Oh, you black-guard, leave off.” — “The waiter will be coming in if you make such a noise,” said I, getting up and bolting the door. — “Well don’t you do that to me.” “I can’t help it, I’m madly in love with you.” — For a time we were quieter, then I pulled her back on the sofa and began spooning. “You know your lovers’ been in bed with you.” — That he hadn’t, she shouldn’t be such a fool. — “Let me.” — “What?” — My arm was round her waist, my lips close to hers, my hand on her lap. I grabbed at her clothes just above her notch. She must have felt the clutch on her motte, and I said, “Fuck you,” and kissed her with mad lust on me.
She slapped my head hard now and threatened to go, but didn’t rise. — “Did I hurt you?” — “Don’t do it again, or talk like that, or I’ll never speak to you again.” — Again we kissed, I gave her more wine, and spilt some over her dress. — “You’ve ruined my dress,” said she anxiously. — “Never mind love, tell me what it cost, I’ll pay for another,” — and I took out my purse. — “You were always kind, but perhaps I’ll get it out.” — “Well here’s a sovereign to clean it” — she wouldn’t take the money.
Some years before I had bought a lot of pretty, small priced brooches. — Most had been given away to servants and other women, and even to favourite doxies. I had one in my pocket now, and also had brought two pairs of beautiful garters with me.
Ah, what a repetition — how many times has nearly the same occurred — I seem to have been rehearsing it half my life, but thus it occurred now. “Now isn’t that a pretty brooch?” — “Oh, it is.” — “I’m going to give that to a lady friend.” — “Oh!” said she in such a tone that I saw at once it had crossed her mind that I was going to give it to her. — “And a pair of these garters as well, on one condition.” — I produced them. — “What’s that.” — “That she’ll let me put them on.” — “Will she?” — “I think so, I did so once before, and she’s a nice little lady.” — “Not much of a lady.” — “She is tho, and married.” — “She ought to be ashamed of her self then.” — “Pough! my dear, who’ll know but she and I? The last pair I put on her legs as she laid on the bed, and then I got on to the bed with her, and then.” — There I stopped. — “You — are — a — regular scamp, I’ve been told so,” said Madeline, blushing. — “Why my dear?” — “For tempting a poor woman so.” — “Nonsense, my love, she tempted me, but which pair would you like?” — “This pair.” — Then I said I’d give them her if she’d let me put them on. — She refused. I chaffed her. “You tie yours up with string don’t you?” — “Wouldn’t you like to know.” — “Yes, and to feel.” Saying which, I made the attempt, didn’t succeed, and got another slap on my head. — She rose up, saying she wouldn’t stop any longer, but after a little consideration sat down again.
On I talked in the same strain — all she replied from time to time was, “Oh, you scamp.” But I thought she looked as if the talk was affecting her sensually, and she let me kiss her easily, after every time that she called me that name. — At length, by constantly asking her, the bait took. She selected a pair, and, with just the same precautions that other women have taken, one after another the garters were put on. — As I fastened the last, I put my mouth down, and kissed the little bit of thigh which was just clear above the stocking. — The sniff of the warm flesh exalted my randiness, lust then overpowered me, and pulling her back on the sofa, kissing her rapturously all the time, I got one hand up her clothes, and just felt the thighs and the hair of her mount. — She repulsed me instantly with a loud cry. — “Let me fuck you, my love. I’m dying for you.” — “Oh, you blackguard, get away.” — “Look what a state you’ve put me in,” and out I pulled my glowing rod, which pulsated as if going at once to discharge the semen which lay in my balls.
Up she got, leaving me sitting on the sofa, with my pulsating crimson tipped, cunt-rammer out. “You mistake me altogether if you asked me here to behave like that. — I’ll go at once.” — She meant it. — No. She’d go back to the Palace by herself. It had been arranged that we were to find her friend there, and all go to town together. She said a lot more, all the time standing close by me, and looking every instant at my nodding engine — looking spite of herself I expect. I got her round the waist, and swearing I would go no further, got her sitting again on the sofa, and hid my prick in my trowsers. — She was upset. The sight of a good sized, stiff prick always upsets a young woman whether she has been fucked or not, and stirs up lewed sensations in her.
She didn’t know exactly where to go to find her friend, or I believe she would have gone off without me — I now saw I shouldn’t succeed in having her, and that she was wide awake. She had a sweetheart who was going to marry her, and wouldn’t run the risk of getting with kid, I thought. I also felt sure she’d been poked. I’ve had a dozen young milliners, and only one was a virgin, and altho this woman lived with her parents and seemed respectable, I know that the more women living as she was are fucked out of doors, the more careful for a time they are to hide their games from their parents and employers. — Disappointed for the minute, I ceased.
It was getting dusk, she was anxious to go, I more and more anxious to have her. My prick would not subside, but threatened to spend in my trousers. — It was on the Monday that I had had the postage stamp lady, and since then had been keeping myself chaste, with the pleasurable hope of deluging Madeline’s cunt with rich spermatic juices. — Again I grasped and kissed her. “There is the brooch, I’ll give it you, but am awfully disappointed, for I do so long for you, and no one would know but you and I.” — “Don’t be foolish, don’t be a beast.” — “Oh, let me then just feel your flesh, by the eternal God, if you’ll let me feel your thigh, only half way above your knee — I’ll be content, I’ll go no further.” — “You beast, let me get up,” and she made a half attempt to rise. — Was lewedness subduing her? — It was a miserable small sofa, with scarcely room for one person to lie down, she was reclining sideways, I holding her so that one of her feet was on the ground, the other nearly so, and she contemplating the brooch most of the time, was seemingly de-lighted with it.
I have often wondered since if it was the brooch which absorbed her thoughts and made her careless, or gratitude for it, which made her half indulge me for the moment. Or did she feel a sensuous pleasure in my attempt, secure in the knowledge that she could repel my hand when she listed? Was she lewed at that moment and therefore yielding? — What a pity that some visible sign of lewedness is not in a woman; that she hasn’t something which will rise up and stiffen as a prick does. — A man has always that sign of his lustful state, and a woman need be in no doubt about it.
She went on looking at the brooch, pinning it on her breast, then taking it out to look at it, whilst I went on kissing, coaxing, pinching her thighs outside, and at-tempting slight liberties. “No, I won’t.” — “Only one thigh — a little bit of the flesh only this side. Now do.”
Holding her round the waist, I hitched up that side of her clothes, and got my hand on to her thigh just above the garter. With both hands she stopped me.
—”There now you’ve done it, now leave me alone.
—I’m foolish to let you. Now don’t. — Oh, what are you about?” and she dropped the brooch.
Rapidly I pulled away the only button which kept my prick within my trousers, and out it stood rampant; raised her clothes on that side, put one hand under the thigh, with force hoisted it a little up, and turned more towards her, with the intention of letting my prick touch her flesh. I had neither hope nor idea of getting into her. — The thought alone of my prick touching her flesh filled me with voluptuous delight. — I pushed my prick wildly, now holding the thigh still more ex-posed with both hands, and pressing my body to it. — My prick spite of her struggles touched her. — She cried out loudly. “Leave off — oh you scamp, don’t.” — I heeded not, heated by the contact, I went on. — A spasm of delight shot through my prick, and an ungovernable movement of my buttocks shoved it to and fro. — Its tip rubbed against the tiny bit of thigh, pulsated violently, and before I knew if I could control it, or she free herself from me, shot out a torrent of hot, thick sperm on to her thigh. It ran down to one of my hands, whilst I sighed out. — “My God — I’m spending — it’s on your — thigh.” — Then I sank half fainting with pleasure, upon her shoulder.
“Don’t — what are you doing — let me get up” — was all I heard, and by that time she had pulled down her clothes, covering up sperm and all, and I had fallen back on the sofa holding my prick. — The whole affair, from the time I got hold of her thigh, had not occupied the time it takes me to write a dozen of these lines.