Volume 7 Chapter 7
Caroline the ex-chambermaid. • Her lewed moment. • Handsome backside. • Acquaintance claimed. • Prologue, copulation, Epilogue. • I am known. • Caroline’s history. • She disappears. • Madeline again. • The street, the cab, the brothel. • A solemn promise. • Sarah F**z*r. • Form, face, cunt, and tongue. • Micturating frolics. • Spending indications. • Her dress. • A poke in the open. • Legs in the street. • A male competitor. • He after me. • A titanic prick. • Sarah on gamahuching. • Her nose.
One dark evening at about six o’clock, I went to a house with a woman who pleased me when I met her, she looked so fresh and plump, tho clad in a vulgar, staringly light coloured, but very good cloak. She had smiled cheekily at me as I stood under a gas lamp, to see the sort of looking woman she was, and said “Well you’re coming home with me ain’t you?” — on saying I was, she laughed heartily and put her arm thro mine to walk with me, in such a way that I thought she had been drinking — I sent her on in front, which was my customary mode in such affairs, and joined her in nice lodgings not far from L***h*m P***e.
She undressed quickly, and I found her a fine woman looking about twenty-five years of age, with dark hair and eyes, and with a fresh colour like that of a country woman. She had an unusually big rump and fine thighs, but with quite a youthful quantity of dark brown hair on her quim. — “Show us it, I’ve often wanted to see it,” said she, alluding to my prick. — She handled it and gave it a kiss with an air of satisfaction. — “You’ve just come in the nick of time, you want a bit, and I want a bit,” and she laughed again. Her mirth was contagious and I laughed too, but could not quite make up my mind whether she had been drinking or not.
“Not so quick my dear, let’s have a good look at your cunt first.” — She’d got on the bed and thrown her chemise up ready for me, just as women do when anxious to be fucked or to get rid of a man. — “All right, look as long as you like, but poke first and look after-wards” — I declined. — “There then,” and she slipped to the bed side with thighs apart — “Now you’ll want to see it the other way I suppose,” and she turned arse upwards, kneeling, and showing a pretty brown haired quim, pouting between as white, solid, and handsome a pair of bum globes as ever I saw. “Now come on.” “Are you in a hurry?” “Not a bit to get rid of you, poke me, and we’ll talk afterwards.” — I got on the bed, and she amatively kissed me. — I felt her cunt inside and out, and in few minutes my prick was lying up her, satisfied, shrinking, and sticky. — “You’ve spent my dear.” “I should think I have, and will again,” and she kissed me more than ever — I thought I’d got a doxy just at her thoroughly lewed moment, or who had taken a letch for me. — I’ve had such, and their manner then is generally unmistakable, tho the manners of women vary much.
I laid on her in full enjoyment of her spermatised cunt, smoothing her fat, cool, backside, till a sudden fear of ailment came over me. “I must wash,” said I. —She put her legs round mine, held me tightly round my bum with both hands, and nestled her cunt up to my balls. — “Keep it in and wash when you’ve done it again, I’m all right.” “But I must get home to dinner.” “Shan’t let you go till you’ve poked me again.” — She was chirpy in manner — there was a vivacity in her, strongly resembling that of big-eyed Betsy Johnson of whom I have told. — “I must go, I shall be late, and shan’t be able to do it again for half an hour,” and I wriggled a little with the intention of quitting her body, yet was half hearted about it, so nice was she to handle. “Yes you will — what will you bet?”
I laid a little longer wondering at her manner, feeling somehow now sure that she was sound in body, thinking she had taken a letch for me, began feeling her bubbies, and investigating her armpits. — “I haven’t seen you for a long time,” she said laughing. “I never saw you before,” I replied astonished. — “Oh haven’t you tho, are you sure?” — I raised myself up to look at her face, and began to fancy I had. — “Oh, it’s all running out of my cunt, haven’t you put a lot in,” — saying which and moving me with her, she turned partly on her side, putting her leg over my haunch as she did so, still held me close to her, and caught hold of my prick, which uncunted with the movement. — “You’ve had a drop.” “Yes — but nothing but tea. I never drink liquor till night,” said she, squeezing gently the glans of my prick. — It was a most delicate, refined performance, and already a voluptuous feeling at the tip and running thence everywhere, filled me with desire for her. The pleasurable sensation of a soft female hand coaxing my prick, now gently clasping my balls, now twiddling round the foreskin, now pinching gently be-low the tip, brought me to voluptuous silence. My hand sought her clitoris, the spermatic moisture on her quim increased my lewedness, and again our mouths met. — “Ohoo — I want it again — put it in. — Aha — how stiff it is.” “Aha, how spunky your cunt is,” I murmured amidst wet kisses. — It was all that was said, till I’d had a gloriously voluptuous second fuck. — Then we lay together till my prick would keep in her no longer. — Quickly I washed, and left her promising to see her again, and meaning it. “Don’t be long first or you won’t see me again at all, shall I write to you?” were the last words she uttered after chaffing me, and saying she knew me well enough, which I denied — I fancied I had somewhere seen her before, yet dismissed that from my mind, for I rarely quite forget the face of any woman whom I have had.
In a few days I saw her again. — Directly she noticed me, she turned and walked towards her lodgings, as if making sure I had come to have her.
“I knew I should see you again,” were her first words when in her bedroom. “Why?” “Sure you’d come to see an old friend.” “I never saw you till the other night.” “Quite sure?” “Quite.” “I know well all your names, and where you live, and all about you, what will you bet I don’t?”
As before, she stripped rapidly to her chemise, as if anxious to be poked — sitting down whilst I undressed, she seized my prick directly I approached her, kissed it, and then with a gentle, almost imperceptible delicacy of handling, passed the stiff stem through her soft hand, alternately looking at it, then up at me, and holding with her other hand my shirt well up, so that she could see my procreator without hindrance. Then she began chaffing about her knowledge of me. — I returned the chaff, saying that now I recollected having her one or two years before. — “That you didn’t, for I have only been poked eight months, and a gay woman three.” For a second she was then silent, as if my remark had annoyed her.
“Tell me what you know,” I resumed. “If I do you won’t see me again.” “Yes I will, let us poke first.” “No.” “You shall, I have only been chaffing you,” said she, getting on to the bed. I believed that, said no more, laid by her side, and delicious reciprocal preliminaries began. I looked at her lovely cunt, pulled apart the red lips, kissed her motte and belly up to her bubbies, and then more tranquil by her side, felt over all the surface of her cunt, now thrusting a finger up the red prick tube, now rubbing gently the clitoris, whilst she continued the delicate, slow, masturbating movement on my prick from tip to balls. Our mouths joined in moist contact, then in silence I mounted her, clasped her smooth solid arse, and thrust my prick to its roots up her. She sighed with delight as it struck the end of her cunt.
After a short voluptuous rest for my prick, tho my brain during such times is in its baudiest state of thought, I fucked. — Up and down went my prick in her sheath, with our sighs and murmurs of pleasure mingling, till all movements finished with a throbbing prick, a gripping, clipping cunt, tightening arseholes, wriggling bellies, spasms of pleasure, thick white spunk spurting from me into her, salt slimy juices exuding from her vagina — amidst our sighs and cries of ecstasy. Then with relaxed hold, with limb stretched out, tranquil we lay, prick still in cunt, cunt clipping, prick loosely but deliciously shrinking in the fecundating mucilaginous bath of our mixed spendings, our tongues still joined, and salivas mingling. Thus for minutes in a blissful Elysium, as if our souls and bodies were dissolving. What a happy death to die.
The pleasure over, I slipped off on one side. She turned to me, laying hold of my tool. I put my hand over her upper buttock, and laying together thus in salacious companionship she said laughing, “I do know you tho.” “Tell me then.” “Your names begin with *** and **** and ****. — The number of your house is 34 — and the street name begins with A.” — It was so exact that I started, but said, “No.” She laughed, told me all, and finished up by, “Now fuck me, it’s quite stiff,” and I did.
These were the circumstances. Three years or so before, an Australian family, the lady of whom was distantly related to me, came to England and stopped six months nearly at the **** hotel. I visited them often, dined there, went to the theatre and everywhere with them. She was chambermaid there, had waited on the ladies, taken messages to them from me, taken letters to the hotel box addressed to me, had heard me often spoken about, and thus knew much about me. I had kissed her once, and putting my hand down to her belly gave it a gentle tap and said, “There’s a baby there I think.” — I’d forgotten her, tho her face had seemed familiar to me.
Surprised and a little annoyed (such tricks have been played, by women), that I could not help for a minute pondering on the incident, tho there really is nothing very singular in it. I have often wondered that out of the hundreds of women of all classes I have fucked, or toyed with baudily, that I have met so few of them afterwards, when I have once parted with them. Said she with her pert manner, “Ah — you’re wishing you hadn’t seen me, and thinking I’m going to leave my card on you — but I’m not, for I’m going away al-together, I shan’t be what the French women about here call a Dame Galante long,” and she laughed. Then I wanted to know her history fully. She wouldn’t tell me. — “If you want to hear that, come and spend the evening with me, I shan’t be here long.” — Perhaps I would I said, “No, you’re not going till I’ve had another poke — I’d have let you had me first two years ago, but you didn’t see it and shied off.”
I poked her again, and said I would see her that day week, knowing I should then be by myself in town. — She counted on her fingers. — “I think I shall be poorly, come the day before.” “I will.” — That evening I had my dinner first, and at her request took a bottle of champagne with me. I’d been four days without a fuck, and wanted one. — She’d had her dinner. — “I waited for your fizz and haven’t had any thing to drink, but wasn’t sure if you’d bring it,” and she began drinking.
She was ready when I got there, nicely got up with a silk open gown or dress, over a fine chemise. — “Look! that’s what my young man’s given me,” said she drawing my attention to it. “You’ve silk stockings on” (she’d not worn them before). “Yes, bought them for you, you may give them me if you like.” “Well I will.” She got up and kissed me. “You ought to have had me first.” “I wish I had, tell us all about it.” “Take your trousers off, and make yourself comfort-able.” — Whilst I undressed she stirred up the fire, and we sat down. “Show me your cock.” “Show me your cunt then.” She lifted her chemise to her navel, the sight of her motte and legs which were handsome, made me stiffen at once. I lifted my shirt.
— “Hoh, hoh, ho,” saying which she got up and laid hold of my pego. I clasped her bum, and fingered her notch. — She stooped and our mouths joined. — “Not yet,” said she disengaging herself and sitting down; but in a few minutes, our backsides were heaving reciprocally on the bed.
Then we sat before a good fire drinking, I smoking— our passions temporarily assuaged. — She with chemise above her knees, to let the warmth of the fire reach her quim. I, with its warmth playing on my buttocks and ballocks. — This was her history — Which I now abbreviate as much as possible, tho as first written, it filled seven pages of foolscap.
Caroline * * * * was her name. — She was only twenty-one years old now, tho she looked much older, had been in private service. Her eldest sister, who was chambermaid at the hotel, persuaded her to go there. Both were there, when my Australian friends were. — Caroline found it pleasanter than a private house, but much harder work. They saw lots of life, single men larked with the chambermaids, and married men as well, but furtively. — “Yes,” she said in answer to my question, “many men have shown me their cocks when I took water or things into their bedrooms, some made a sham of being caught with it out,” — but she knew it was “all my eye” — they meant her to see it. Her sister who was thirty and a widow, told her it was the same with her. The waiters tried to get over her, lot of gentlemen at the hotel had asked her to go out with them, but she never had. All the female servants talked baudily, most of them she thought fucked on the sly, her sister included, but she always gave Caro- line good advice.
She’d been there but a few months when I visited my Australian friends. — “Nine months ago I went wrong. I went out one night with a young man, a gentleman who had been at the hotel some time.” — He’d kissed her several times, she thought him nice, and it ended in his getting her to have dinner, then to a house, and taking her virginity. — He’d said he’d keep her. Whether that induced her to let him have her or not, she didn’t know. — “I expect I wanted it badly. I often did just then, I was always hearing about fucking, and was tired of frigging myself. — Directly he got his hands between my thighs in the cab, I thought I’d let him do me.” She left the hotel, he kept her a few months, went abroad, and she’d never seen him since. He gave her fifty pounds when he left, and she turned gay at once.
“I believe I’d have let you do it, I liked you, and put myself in your way, don’t you recollect asking me if there was a baby there,” pointing to her belly. — “A young waiter that very day had offered to marry me. — The maid who slept in my room just then, talked about nothing else but fucking every night, and I was clean upset by it all. — You never saw your chance.”
— Her sister used to say, “What are you hanging about there for, when that gentleman’s here.” Then Caroline said — “I wanted you directly I set eyes upon you a fortnight ago.”
I pulled my chair closer to hers, our naked thighs touched, she laid hold of my tool, my fingers sought her notch, our mouths met, and we sat in voluptuous silent play, till with a wriggle. — “Ahar, come and do me.” — Then on the bed at once our backside joggings recommenced.
Then she told me she thought she was going away with a gentleman “I wish it were you.” He’d given her that cloak and other things. She didn’t like the life, tho she’d done very well at it. — Her sister advised her to go to service again. “But I can’t do without fucking now, and wonder I did without it so long, and like my liberty, tho I wish I’d married the waiter.” — We embraced again, I had been with her some hours, and was getting hungry, so was she. The champagne was gone, but I was quite comfortable, and didn’t like to quit her she was so unusual in manner, and there was such an evident letch for me that I felt flattered; for I like a woman to enjoy me, it heightens my pleasure.
“I’m so hungry.” “So am I, and shan’t go out to-night — you can get ham and beef round the corner, and they have good hot saveloys up to midnight. — They sell good whiskey and wine at * * * *.” “Send your servant.” “No you go, they’ll serve you better, I can’t dress in time for it’s twelve, or I would.” — Off I went, and came back with hot sausages and a bottle of whiskey, and we sat eating and drinking till it was two o’clock. — When I rose to go, “Do me before you go, you may never have the chance again.” “I can’t.” “I’ll make you. — Ah, I must piddle first.” “Stop, let me see you,” — my old letch came on suddenly. — I put her on the bed, a basin under her, and from her red slit saw a quart of the yellow fluid splash out. Her big round buttocks and white thighs made a charming setting to the red cleft. By the time she’d finished my prick was rampant at the sight, and with the glistening drops of moisture still on the vulva and its hedge, I fucked her at the bed side. — “You’re a real man, and no mistake, I wish you had me first,” she said as my prick left her.
A week after I had her again. — I kissed her white bum. — “Say good-bye to it,” said she laughing. “Why?” “I don’t think you’ll see it again. — I’m going off. I hope so at least. — If you don’t see me out, call and ask, but I’m expecting every day to leave this life. My friend says he’ll keep me.” — I never saw her after that night, and called at the lodgings. She had left, gone they knew not where, and with a gentleman, “Oh quite a gentleman.”
I have often noticed that one surprise follows another. Within a few weeks after the ex-chambermaid vanished, I met, point blank, Madeline, the sweet young milliner over whose thigh I first spent, — and whom I subsequently relieved of her virginity. It is between two and three years since I had that pleasure.
It was in the afternoon just before dusk, both of us were turning a corner out of R*g**t Street. Both started, and stopped as if petrified. — “You?” “My dear Madeline, you?” — We shook hands. — “It won’t do if we are seen,” said she anxiously, “for I’m married.” “Who’ll see you? and if you are seen, surely you may talk to an old friend — but who’ll know, let us walk on,” — and I did by her side. — “Tell me all about yourself, and husband,” questions rapidly put. — Yes, she’d married Richard. — “No children?” “None.” “You lucky one, you can have any fun you like, without fear.” “Oh! fun? I’m married.” — She wanted to get rid of me, apparently fearful. — “I won’t go, I must talk with you, may never see you again, get in this cab and you can tell me all, nobody can see us in it.” — I hailed a passing cab, in a second we were in it and off we drove. — I had almost to hustle her into it, but the fascination of our former delight was on her, as on me. We were both yielding to the inevitable curiosity.
She was agitated. Old endearments I know came to her mind, how can any woman meet a man who has fucked her without thinking of it? — We kissed. “Do you recollect that night Madeline, when, etc. etc.” “Oh you mustn’t talk of that, we must forget it.” Then she told me that her husband had a good situation, was very kind, she’d never had a child. — “He fucks you doesn’t he?” “Oh — well — oh — you always were such a Oh! — Where are we going now? — I must not be late — let me go.”
“No you shan’t, I may never see you again. — My God, how I long to see you naked, how much stouter you’ve got, how lovely your arm feels — fucking agrees with you, your legs have grown larger like your arms I’ll bet, haven’t they now?” “Oh don’t go on so, don’t.” “Oh let me feel for a moment only.”
Stooping, I pulled up her clothes to her knees, and got my hand just above her garters. — She struggled violently. — “Oh now — don’t — you shan’t. — Oh leave off.” “I will by God, Madeline, I will feel that lovely cunt once more.” — It was a real hard struggle. She meant to prevent me, I resolved to feel it. — A whirl of lust passed through me, I thought of fucking her in the cab, or any where, but somehow. As we struggled, my head was over her shoulder, my mouth against her neck. After I’d once got my hand above her garters, that position kept her from stooping much and helped me, for in a minute or two (but how time flies in these lovely erotic combats) my hand was well between her thighs, my finger tip on the vaginal mouth, my open hand covering her whole cunt, I had grasped the whole of her cunt so to speak, my fingers squeezing apart the lips. The next minute I had placed her hand round my erection, placidly her hand closed softly on it, and our mouths met.
She murmured, “What a shame,” — then gave her-self up — vanquished — silent — and now enjoying it; for lewedness once possessed of man and woman, absorbs all thought, — pervades the whole physical frame with a subtle languid pleasure, from the crown of the head to the soles of the feet, it enervates. Thus in silence we sat for a time as the cab rolled on. — How useful four wheeled cabs have been to me.
It grew dark, whilst we handled each other’s genitals — the sensations our fingers gave us made us forgetful of all but our love. — “Let us just look at each other once again, you’ve more hair on your cunt I can feel. — My God how my prick’s throbbing for you — Frig me.” — “I won’t.” — “Come with me, and I swear if ever we meet again I’ll take no notice of you. That shall be agreed between us. — We shan’t be half an hour. — My beloved Madeline, let me have you once more. — Come darling,” and my fingers moved unremittingly over her cunt, rousing her lust to insensible compliance.
In ten minutes afterwards we were in a house, the scene of many a former pleasure, she knew it well. — Within an hour we had fucked thrice and separated, but what maddening Elysium that one hour was, what disclosures we both made. I told her as much as she told me, it was pleasant to tell her of my social happiness. — She had got stouter, her thighs were large and round, she had still her marbly backside, and it was a larger one. She’d now a well-haired cunt — quite thick hair now, and it fucked as deliciously as ever. — We talked over all about our liaison from first to last, sponges, French letters, and all. — She soon lapsed into lasciviousness after I had once fucked her. — When we parted she said she should be ashamed of saying her prayers or to go to church next Sunday. — “My love, your husband never found out that you had been poked before he poked you, and he’ll never find this fucking out.” — I’ve never seen her since to speak to, tho I have once or twice in the distance, but our paths lay apart.
It was a most delicious incident — a break in the monotony of harlot loves and pleasures to which I shall be for the future limited. — But I don’t regret that. — I regret my infidelity more. — Mais que voulez-vous? — I am made so — made I suppose to be unfaithful. But I always reserve enough sperm for connubial duty, and she is satisfied.
In the year 18** I walked up P***l**d P***e at about ten o’clock at night, and saw a tall woman standing at the corner of L**t*e P***l**d Street. Her size attracted me, I spoke, and offering half a sovereign with the understanding that she would take everything off — went with her to a house in L**t*e P***l**d Street.
She kept her word and stripped whilst I sat looking on. — When in her chemise, — “Do you want me quite naked?” — “Yes.” Then she slipped it off and stood start naked, boots, stockings, and garters, excepted. — I may as well describe her at once, as for quite four years she satisfied almost every sexual want, and helped me to satisfy every sensual fantasy.
She was with the exception of the second Camille (the French woman) almost the most quiet, regular, complacent woman I had had since that time, and more-over was most servicable to me in all my pleasures, ministering to them as I wanted them — but rarely herself suggesting them. — Ready to undertake any-thing for me, and after some length of intimacy participating in, and well pleased with, our erotic amusements; never attempting to exact money, but always content, and at length getting so accustomed to me that she let me into much knowledge of her private daily life.
She was I should say five feet nine or nearly ten high, which is tall for a woman. Her hips were when viewed from the front, of the proper width for such a height — but her shoulders somewhat narrow. Altho so tall, she was small boned and plump all over, yet she had not an atom of what may be called fatness; had a small foot, a fine shaped calve, and thighs not quite so large proportionately. Her bum with fine firm round cheeks was not heavy at the back, was rather broad across the hips than thick and prominent behind, yet her backside looked handsome. — In fact she was straight and well shaped from top to toe, but if anything might have had broader shoulders with advantage, to make her proportionate to her height; yet only a sharp critic would have noticed that deficiency.
Her cunt, that important part of a woman, was large, but tight, fleshy inside, and muscular. It clipped my prick as deliciously as if it had been a much smaller one, and it was so healthy and deep, that often as I tried, I never could touch the orifice to her womb, either with my prick or my fingers. Nearly black hair, crisp and in full quantity was on her mons, and down the lips, and almost to her arsehole, but not round that brown orifice. The lips were thick and full, yet if she put her legs apart, they widened at once, showing deep crimson facings, and when shut a thin crimson streak. — Her nymphae were small.
She had dark brown, bright eyes, dark hair and good teeth — but her nose had been broken. That spoiled her face which otherwise would have been very handsome. As it was it did not make her ugly, but decidedly spoiled her.
She had the longest tongue I ever saw. She could put it further out of her mouth altogether than any one whom I have seen do that trick. — She was somewhat an unusual woman in every respect, and was I think twenty-four years old when I first saw her. — She had been a ballet dancer at some time, altho I only found that out after I had known her some months. — Her name was Sarah F**z**r.
She laid on the side of the bed, pulled her cunt open, knelt on the bed backside towards me, shewing cunt and arsehole together in quick succession as I asked her, and without uttering a word, but simply smiling as she obeyed. It had the usual effect, — a stiff-stander of the first order. It always is so with me. Objections, and sham modesty, a refusal to let me touch, and feel, or see, instead of whetting my appetite for a gay woman, always angers me and makes me lose desire.
— With a woman not gay the case is different. The next minute I was enjoying her with impatience, then I lay on her stiff still, and full up her when I had spent.
— “I shall do you again.” “All right,” she replied. My prick never uncunted, but whilst reviving, my hands roved in all directions. She moved first this leg, then that, lifted her backside up, and seemed by instinct to know where my hands wished to go, and they were restless enough. — She was like Camille. — To something I said, she remarked. — “You’re fond of it.”
— As I recommenced my thrusts she said. —”Don’t hurry, I want it,” — and we both spent together. — I forgot to mention that her flesh was of surprising firmness, and her backside solid and smooth. — I gave her the half sovereign as agreed — she did not ask for more, and we parted — but not for long.
The readiness with which she complied with all my wishes, together with the recollection of her personal charms, and the pleasure of her cunt, dwelt in my mind. I had her next night, and the night after, and then began to see her once or twice a week, and to indulge in voluptuous freaks which I had not done for three years or more, and which my imagination in-creased in its powers by what I had seen, read, and done, supplied me. — I am not going to tell of tricks I have done with other women, but only such varieties and vagaries as were newish, and one or two which I think, not done before with any women. If I had, I have forgotten to tell them, tho I am not sure even of that.
My piddling letch, which seems for a time to have been dormant, returned. I began to make her piddle in all sorts of attitudes, first in a pot, then in a basin — at times with her cunt opened naturally, then holding the lips open, so that the little red piddle-vent could be seen almost. — At no time of my life had I such variety of frolics with urine as I then had. — It may be termed my pissing period. I began to piss with her, would keep myself from watering for hours before I met her, so that I might deliver the fullest, longest, and strongest stream of urine possible. — She was famous at it. I have seen the piddle stream of scores of women, but hers was the hardest, and strongest that ever wetted a pot. — I hit on the idea of bringing her to the bedside, laying her back, putting a basin under her bum as close as the bed would permit. Then she would hold the lips of her cunt wide open, and I pointing my tool, would empty my bladder. The yellow stream hitting either prick hole, or broad surface of the cunt, splashed in a thousand little bright drops on her thighs, or lodged in the crisp black hair, then ran down to where the quim nears the bum hole, and dropped into the basin beneath. Directly I had pissed, my prick would stand, I joined my body to hers, and capable no longer of delay, bedewed quickly with sperm the inside of the orifice which I had just be-dewed outside with a thinner fluid.
Pissing against her cunt, she declared, no man had ever done to her but me. She enjoyed it, it seemed to make her lewed, and she always spent with me after-wards. — When spending she shewed it plainly, and did not attempt to hide it as some do. — Indeed she could not, for her cunt would close so strongly round my prick, that there was no mistaking what it was up to. — Besides that, her face first went scarlet — perfectly scarlet, — a minute afterwards, perfectly white— and then gradually recovered its natural colour — I never saw that change in any other woman’s face. She always kept my prick up her as long as she could,
— twining her long legs round me to hold me up her, whilst her long arms held me firmly round my arse cheeks, as she lay perfectly quiet with her eyes closed.
— At other times when she did not spend herself, she took no trouble of that sort, but got up and washed the moment I released her.
The house I went to with her was usually in L**t*e P***l**d Street. — It had some advantages, but there was no looking glass of any size. As I wanted now to see our limbs and muscles move under our embraces, I went to a well known house, — the A*ma in
St. (There were several houses in the same street then, in this one there were glasses in profusion.) — It was now my additional delight when looking at her cunt, with her thighs wide open, with the basin beneath preparing for my salt splashing, to glance about and see her long plump flanks and thighs, half hiding the basin, my own nudity, and our erotic tricks.
In the various ways which I amused myself with her, one very large cheval glass increased my pleasure. I mostly managed to get the room in which that particular glass was, for I soon became known. They gave me what I wanted and never disturbed me how-ever long I stayed.
Two other modes, in which we used to amuse our selves with our bladders were these. — We used to strip ourselves start naked, shoes and stockings off even, and arrange the cheval glass, so that with other glasses I could see her both back and front at a glance. Then lay on my back with hands under my head on a pillow, so raised as to enable me to see the picture we made. Then she would stand for a minute straddling over me, and the sight of the red stripe peeping out of the black hair would stiffen my penis. Then sitting down on me as she would on a chamber pot, she would take my stiff prick and engulf it in her cunt, the dark hair of her quim meeting mine, her bum cheeks just touching without weighting heavily on my thighs. Then out would come her warm stream, hitting my belly below my navel, and running down in two little streams by the side of my balls, uniting beneath them, washing over my arsehole, and depositing itself on the carpet on which I was lying.
At other times I reversed her, and she engulfed my prick in her cunt with her backside towards me. — Then I could play with her cool, firm, smooth back-side, and feel round the stem of my prick just where it was lost, and hidden in her warm juicy tube. I could feel to her bumhole — or back bone. In the glasses I could see my prick rising out from the balls, and losing itself in the dark black thicket on her cunt lips. — “Open the lips, Sarah.” — Immediately her two fingers would separate the lips, leaving the broad red surface, at which sight my prick would throb with de-sire to spend. — “Piss, piss dear, I can bear it no longer.” — Then it would fall like a cataract in front of my balls, and partly on my thighs.
At times wrought to an irrepressible pitch, no sooner had the last dribble fallen on my ballocks, than with a few upward shoves I finished my pleasure, feeling her arse, and gloating over the luscious picture we made; holding her on me until my prick slipped out, and drew with it some of my sperm, as it flapped down on to my balls, still wet with her piddle.
By that time the piddle had cooled —my arse used to feel as if it had fallen into a ditch —we both rose, wiped and dried ourselves, and sat down to talk until desire again asserted its empire over me, or over us, for she enjoyed this fun.
Another way I have tried unsuccessfully with an-other woman. — With Sarah it was practicable on ac-count of her height — for in tall women, the extra length is nearly always in the legs, and not in the body. Stripping ourselves start naked, I stiffened my prick by her incitements, or perhaps by a few preliminary shoves up her cunt, then both standing up before the glass, I used to put my prick up her and she would piss, and the warm stream run dripping round my balls, falling on both our thighs, and descending till we stood in a pond. — Then standing, I would fuck her, watching our movements in the glass.
And all this is practicable, if a man who is lewed as I was takes the trouble, and has a suitable woman. With Sarah I could do this scarcely bending my back, for upright by me my prick was nearly at the level of her cunt. — When the twisting and wriggling of our backsides and genitals had ceased, I have without uncunting, waddled with her back towards the bed, and leaning her on the edge, leaned on her, and took what rest I could in that position, until my prick slipped out. — Such was my force, and the rigidity of my penis, that several times I have done this. But it is a laborious, erotic amusement tho worth trying [I could not do it now].
I used at times, because of the convenience which her height gave for such amatory eccentricities, put my prick up her, and then clasping each other we used to waddle round the room, laughing as we viewed our movements in the glasses. That exciting amusement could not endure long, for there is an involuntary action in a cunt when the prober is in it, which compels the penis to move towards a consummation. After a minute or two, a constriction of her cunt muscles on my prick tip compelled it either to push or withdraw. Then came an involuntary shove or two, and then the sequel came, which was either the perpendicular shag in front of the glass — or an uprighter against the wall — a sloper against the bed side — a horizontal, old fashioned fuck on the bed, or on the floor — or a bum to belly fuck in dog fashion on the bed or on the carpet, bringing their usual crises of pleasure and relaxation of limb, luscious dreaminess, a sensation of cool dampness round the prick stem, and a desire for a doze.
I have fucked and awakened, still finding my prick in her — for she had only to raise her thighs, and bend her knees up somewhat, to bring her cunt in such a position, as to press my balls against her buttocks, and keep my prick in if only the size of a large gooseberry. The same facility enabled me to get my prick up her when limp — I took much pleasure in doing that, and letting it stiffen up her, under the compressive movement or grip of her cunt — I have never known a woman who could give my prick a longer lodging than she could; tho I have known many who could do it well. She knew it was my pleasure, and gave it to me to the full when she got accustomed to me.
I used to be thinking constantly of what voluptuous tricks I could do when we met, but for a time, a preliminary usage of our organs, in pissing some way or another was my delight. — Then it took such possession of me that I thought of nothing else. My letters to her to meet me used to run. “Tonight — seven — keep in P.” — By which I meant her to have her bladder full. — So she used — so full at times that she said, “If you don’t do something directly, I must piddle, I can’t keep it in any longer.” Then the evening’s amusement began. — The quantity she spouted oftentimes, I am sure, was a quart or more.
There is one thing in these amatory micturating bouts, which I only recollect having done with her and one other woman. — It was pissing when up her cunt. — She told me she had allowed a man or two to try, but that they could not succeed. — Indeed it is difficult. For when a prick is stiff and in the state of nervous strain which fits it for penetrating a cunt, its ejaculatory muscles struggle to shoot out sperm, and so I suppose contract the opening to the bladder, and prevent piddle issuing. But one night she was undressed, and lying at the side of the bed with thighs wide open, up I thrust my prick bursting, and as I thought with piss so proud, that nothing could prevent the jet. When up her cunt I tried to piss, but my prick began to throb, and her cunt, as I thought, to squeeze it, altho she declared it was quiet. I strained till I farted like a cow after beans, but not a drop would come. — The more I strained, the more difficult I found it to restrain myself from oscillating my buttocks for an outshoot of spunk.
My prick would not be cheated. Her cunt resented its being treated as a pisspot, and asserting its right to a stronger and thicker injection, closed round my prick, and worked it so, that getting its way, it drew from me its natural embrocation. — As my sperm throbbed out, it caused me such pain that I groaned.
Directly my seminal reservoirs had emptied them-selves, with a little effort my bladder opened, and I pissed for two minutes I am sure. — My prick kept gradually shrinking but-until it had done its full duty as a sperm spouter and water pipe, kept in her cunt. Pressing out from her cunt came my stream, running over my balls, and down by her arse split on to bed and floor. — At length out flopped my doodle, bringing with it the remainder of my injection both thick and thin. — Up I pulled her, laid down in her place, but sloping off from the edge of the bed and she standing up, I thrust my body between her thighs so that my prick was just under her cunt. — Out came her piddle copiously over my belly and ballocks, and that completed the fun. — She cried out, “Oh, no, I shall wet my boots and stockings,” for in our lustful hurry she had kept them on. “Damn your boots — piss — piss.” — Out came the stream and I was happy. But we made the bed in such a mess that I was obliged to pay extra for its use.
Then I seem to have ceased eccentric micturating amusements, and erotic pleasures of a different kind took their place; tho as long as I knew her, I made her squat and piddle before me. I shall always I am sure, love to see a well made pair of white thighs, and their oval terminations in rear, whilst from between them the red line opens its hairy lips, and the sherry tinted stream spurts.
She was a scrupulously clean woman, always had the whitest linen on, but it was not of the finest quality, and was without ornament excepting a frill just round the top of the chemise — I never saw her in any dress but black silk. She said it was economical, that one dress helped to repair the other, that in coloured things she looked too big and vulgar — that her friends were mostly quiet men, who did not like women whom every one turned round after. — She usually wore a black veil, which were much worn by women then, lifted it up when she spoke to a man, then dropped it again. — I have watched her several times. — At that time gay ladies were fond of lifting up their petticoats if the streets were muddy, so as to show their legs a little. Sarah rarely did unless as she said she was “hard up.” — If she showed her legs she always got a man, yet could not bear doing it. —Odd! —How odd! — She would do anything with me in a room, and perhaps with any other man, yet did not like shewing her legs in the street. — Humbug?
When I came to appreciate her very handsome feet, and legs up to her knees (her thighs and haunches were scarcely as fat and fine) I found her stockings were sometimes a little coarse, so gave her boots, and silk stockings of the colour I admired. They were then light kid and pink silk — and also beetle-brown kid and white silk. — I gave her also splendid garters and expected her only to wear them all for me. I think she did so, for I tried to catch her with them on at odd times, and only found her with them on once. — When we had pissing bouts, she took off both boots and stockings. — Altho fond of a naked woman, I always made her keep boots and stockings on at other times.
Among my delights, was to make her squat at the edge of the bed with her knees up, and heels drawn as closely as possible to her bum. This she did with an ease, flexibility, and completeness which surprised me (the reason will be seen). — Then the dark mass of hair on her cunt, with the red lined lips, shewed up in perfection between her thighs, kid boots, and pink silk stockings — I used to keep her so for a quarter of an hour at a time, I sitting on a pillow on the floor, so as to be able to look up at her cunt, holding a candle under it almost touching it, and opening, twitching, and fingering the cunt, as the impulse seized me. Then I viewed it from all parts of the room, until my pego would bear it no longer, and I rushed it up her. On several occasions I met her when she had no expectation of seeing me, and she went with me into the first dark place, I felt her limbs, and saw what boots, etc., etc., she had on, then I felt her cunt and went my way. I began again about this time occasionally to feel women’s cunts in the street. I had not done so for a couple of years. I taught her when I met her, on a signal, to go ahead of me, lifting up her petticoats as high as she dare. — It amused me to see men turn round, follow, and speak to her. — Then she, if I wanted her, turned into the baudy house, I after her. But it was risky, for the sight of her legs used to give me such a cock-stand, that I was always in danger of wanting a fuck in the open. — One night I had her up against the door of a house in a back street. — She re-fused at first, but at length we did it, after my swearing that if she did not, I would do it in the street with some other woman. — But I never had her in the street but that once.
One muddy night she lifted up her clothes and walked up P***l**d P***e. — I followed her at some distance, then she turned and went to the house in L**t*e P***l**d S***t. As she was going there, a man spoke to her just before she got to the door. — In looking at her legs, I had not noticed him till then. In a second I was at the door. The man stood and insisted on going in with her. — She would not let him, and there was quite an altercation. — I slunk off to the other side of the way till it was finished. — The man saw me join her and looked very savage. I went in, had my evening’s pleasure, and was there perhaps two hours. When I came out, I saw the same man, and he entered the house directly. — I knew he was after her. She did not come out, and there I waited an hour. — I had begun by laughing to myself at the man for waiting two hours for a woman. Now I waited tho I did not know why. But I thought of what they were doing to-gether. — Now he is perhaps feeling her, now fucking — now she is feeling his prick. Has he fucked her — twice — or thrice? — These and a hundred similar thoughts floated through my brain, until I got as randy as if I hadn’t fucked for a week.
The longer I waited, the more impatient I got, yet determined to wait all night if needs be, thinking of nothing but what he was doing with her. — I resolved to see if she would tell the truth or a lie. — At length out I saw him come, I went down towards Ox***d St., — for I knew then the way she went home, — and peeped round the corner of a street until I saw her coming. Then walking I met her as if by accident. — “What you?” said I. —”Yes.” — “Where have you come from?” — “From * * * * — I have never left.” — Then she began to tell the truth, and I went back to the baudy house with her.
I am telling this part of my history a little out of order, for it occurred somewhat later on, when I had then got her confidence, and she used to talk to me like an old acquaintance. — In the bedroom she began to laugh. — “You saw the man who followed me. — Well! he waited for you going out, came into the house after you left, and asked if a tall dark woman was up stairs. — Of course Mrs. A said — ‘No’ — He said he was sure she was, for he had seen her come in with a man two hours before, and she had not left. — Mrs. A then came up, and asked me — and I said — let him come up. — He came, I had my bonnet on.” “I have waited for you two hours, to have you — how often have you been fucked?” “I told him not at all — that my friend had only looked at me.” — “Ah! you frig him, and that is what I want — but I like to be frigged by a woman who has been fucked the same night.” “Then I told him you did it to me once, which excited him. He put his hand up my clothes immediately. I asked him what he was going to give me, and he gave me three pounds at once, and said he would give more if I pleased him.
“He made me undress, except my stockings, and stripped himself. — Well — I have seen a good many pricks in my time, but on my soul I think his was the biggest — It was as stiff as a poker when he undressed. — He had not seen me naked then. — Then he asked all about your prick, and what you did — how you spent — I told lie after lie, just as I thought would suit him. Then he laid me on the side of the bed and began to lick my cunt.” Sarah often dropped her voice and hesitated when she said a baudy word (women differ in their ways). “Then he turned my bum towards him, and he hit me all over with his prick, as hard as if it was with a stick, and asked if I had ever seen a stiffer, or larger one — then he turned me and said he would put it in — I got ready saying I feared he would hurt me. — He put the tip in which stretched me, gave an awful shove which hurt me, and I cried out. He pulled it out, put me between two chairs, just as you do when you make me piddle (I do that) and sitting down, licked my thing till I could bear it no longer, and laying hold of his head I spent. Then he frigged himself so that his spunk spurted up on to my bum.
“He licked me again, and wanted me to suck him. Then he frigged himself again. — Then he went away and gave me two sovereigns more.” — Sarah showed me five sovereigns, together with mine — said she — “I will treat you with a bottle of champagne if you like.”
His licking her cunt — his big prick — his desire to know all about me — sank into my mind, but as before said, this story is told one or two months too soon. — I fucked Sarah, and departed without the champagne — thinking of his big prick which Sarah never seemed tired of describing to me afterwards, and I quite felt jealous of it.
I had then known Sarah many months, but had never licked her cunt. — Two or three years had elapsed since I had done such a thing. — Sarah although fresh coloured, firm fleshed, and about her cunt a fine woman, had never made me desire that. — Nearly hairless cunts, are those only which I have generally desired (with few exceptions) but his licking and her description of the effect on her, made me curious. — “Why could you not bear it?” “No woman can long — you can’t help yourself, — you must make a man leave off, or you can’t prevent yourself spending.” “I never did it to you.” “No you never did, but some men are fond of doing it to me.” “Do you like it?” “I like a poke best, yet you can’t help liking it if a man begins — and you happen just then to want anything.” — Now I will go back, to where I left off about her boots and silk stockings.
Soon after I had known her, I increased and unasked, from ten shillings to a sovereign for her favours — and often stopped later with her. — As she liked champagne, I began to take a bottle which we drank between our fuckings. — When it was warm I used to put her naked on the bed, and sit in a chair so as to look at her cunt and other charms. — When cold we used to sit by the fire both half naked, and talk baudy things — or the news of the day — I used to read the paper — and if there was anything about a woman being ravished — or a fellow showing his cock, — or feeling an-other man’s cock in a pissing place — or an adultery –or anything of that kind, we used to discuss it. — She would tell me her views, and I gained further experience of women in such matters. — She became frank, and told me why and wherefore, in a way that few gay women had since Brighton Bessie, Camille, and one or two others.
More than once I alluded delicately to her nose. She did not like the allusion, and altho not given to swearing — damned and cursed at him about it. — When I asked who him was she said. — “No one” — or — “Nothing.” — She told me, she was thought a very handsome woman before her nose was damaged, and brought me a photograph (early days of photography) to show me. — In that she looked extremely handsome.
— I said so — which set her off swearing at him again.
— Another night, furiously she said, “If he were here, I would knife him. I’d fuck before his damned eyes. — I’d murder him.” Then after a short pause, “But I have served him out.” “Who?” “Nobody you know,” — said sullenly — and no more could I get out of her — I never knew who him was — I have tried to get it from her when half groggy — when ready to spend — and when revelling in baudiness with me, but never did. From chance words dropped from time to time, and the odds and ends of talk, I came to the conclusion that him was her husband, but its only a guess.
[Much that I did with Sarah I have done with others, but every woman has a way and manner of her own even in the most simple baudy gambols. That is the charm in having a change in women. The variety gives me exquisite delight. But with Sarah some of my lascivious frolics were the most complete in their performance — and some I never yet have done with other women, as I find in my narrative further on.]