{"id":1315,"date":"2022-08-18T17:19:13","date_gmt":"2022-08-18T17:19:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/?page_id=1315"},"modified":"2022-09-08T18:50:08","modified_gmt":"2022-09-08T18:50:08","slug":"volume-two-chapter-sixteen","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/?page_id=1315","title":{"rendered":"Volume Two Chapter Sixteen"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t<div data-elementor-type=\"wp-page\" data-elementor-id=\"1315\" class=\"elementor elementor-1315\" data-elementor-settings=\"[]\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-section-wrap\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<section class=\"elementor-section elementor-top-section elementor-element elementor-element-d0b9cda elementor-section-boxed elementor-section-height-default elementor-section-height-default\" data-id=\"d0b9cda\" data-element_type=\"section\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-container elementor-column-gap-default\">\n\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-column elementor-col-50 elementor-top-column elementor-element elementor-element-2bde87e\" data-id=\"2bde87e\" data-element_type=\"column\">\n\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-widget-wrap elementor-element-populated\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-element elementor-element-77b53a8 elementor-widget elementor-widget-html\" data-id=\"77b53a8\" data-element_type=\"widget\" data-widget_type=\"html.default\">\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-widget-container\">\n\t\t\t<iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"https:\/\/open.spotify.com\/embed\/album\/06jcHNHL8wDFOzWd9vtd44\" width=\"300\" height=\"380\" frameborder=\"0\" allowtransparency=\"true\" allow=\"encrypted-media\"><\/iframe>\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-column elementor-col-50 elementor-top-column elementor-element elementor-element-1fc0cfc\" data-id=\"1fc0cfc\" data-element_type=\"column\">\n\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-widget-wrap elementor-element-populated\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-element elementor-element-e3cb3e1 elementor-widget elementor-widget-html\" data-id=\"e3cb3e1\" data-element_type=\"widget\" data-widget_type=\"html.default\">\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-widget-container\">\n\t\t\t<iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"https:\/\/open.spotify.com\/embed\/album\/01jaGsBjVioUvEdTxVnZ46\" width=\"300\" height=\"380\" frameborder=\"0\" allowtransparency=\"true\" allow=\"encrypted-media\"><\/iframe>\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t<section class=\"elementor-section elementor-top-section elementor-element elementor-element-9f8dd7c elementor-section-boxed elementor-section-height-default elementor-section-height-default\" data-id=\"9f8dd7c\" data-element_type=\"section\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-container elementor-column-gap-default\">\n\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-column elementor-col-100 elementor-top-column elementor-element elementor-element-41404a2\" data-id=\"41404a2\" data-element_type=\"column\">\n\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-widget-wrap elementor-element-populated\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-element elementor-element-9b46ca8 elementor-widget elementor-widget-text-editor\" data-id=\"9b46ca8\" data-element_type=\"widget\" data-widget_type=\"text-editor.default\">\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-widget-container\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<section class=\"elementor-section elementor-top-section elementor-element elementor-element-ecf7052 elementor-section-boxed elementor-section-height-default elementor-section-height-default\" data-id=\"ecf7052\" data-element_type=\"section\">\n<div class=\"elementor-container elementor-column-gap-default\">\n<div class=\"elementor-column elementor-col-100 elementor-top-column elementor-element elementor-element-77a0ff6\" data-id=\"77a0ff6\" data-element_type=\"column\">\n<div class=\"elementor-widget-wrap elementor-element-populated\">\n<div class=\"elementor-element elementor-element-f90d4a1 elementor-widget elementor-widget-text-editor\" data-id=\"f90d4a1\" data-element_type=\"widget\" data-widget_type=\"text-editor.default\">\n<div class=\"elementor-widget-container\">\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 373\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p><b>VOLUME 2 CHAPTER 16<\/b><\/p>\n<p><i>Married, and miserable. \u2022 Virtuous intentions. \u2022 Consequences. \u2022 Mary Davis. \u2022 A virtuous child. \u2022 Low class fucksters. \u2022 A concupiscent landlady. \u2022 Reflexions on my career. \u2022 On the sizes of pricks.. \u2022 My misconception.<\/i><\/p>\n<p>My life was now utterly changed; married. I was quite needy, with a yearly income (and that not my own) not more than I used to spend in a month, some-times in a fortnight. Every shilling I had to look at, walked miles where I used to ride, and to save a six pence, amusements were beyond me, my food was the simplest, wine I scarcely tasted, all habits of luxury were gone, but worse than all I was utterly wretched. I tried to make the best of my life and could when by myself be cheerful, even in the recollection of the past fun; but there was that about me now which brought sorrow over to me. The instant I saw her, she checked my smile, sneered at my past, moaned over my future, was a nightmare to me, a very spectre.<\/p>\n<p>I tried to like, to love her. It was impossible. Hateful in day, she was loathsome to me in bed. Long I strove to do my duty, and be faithful, yet to such a pitch did my disgust at length go, that laying by her side, I had wet dreams nightly, sooner than relieve myself in her. I have frigged myself in the streets before entering my house, sooner than fuck her. I loving women, and naturally kind and affectionate to them, ready to be kind and loving to her, was driven to avoid her as I would a corpse. I have followed a woman for miles with my prick stiff, yet went to my wretched home pure, because I had vowed to be chaste. My heart was burning to have an affectionate kiss, a voluptuous sight from some woman, yet I avoided obtaining it. My health began to give way, sleepless nights, weary days made me contemplate suicide. It seemed as if I never could have happiness again, yet my physical forces, or so much of them as lay in my generative organs, seemed unimpaired. I neither drank nor debauched, and my prick stood incessantly; neither random frigs nor night-dreams stopped it.<\/p>\n<p>My only relief from misery was in thinking over the pleasures I had had, yet all seemed such a long time past, that it was She a dream. Then a&nbsp;<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">desire to have other women became invincible. I had no means to get those I had been accustomed to, and seemed to have no idea of going economically to work for my pleasures, but at length began to walk through streets inhabited by very poor gay women, in a neighbourhood I had known in my early youth. Then I found out other poor quarters, and one night with but a few shillings in my pocket, after thinking of throwing myself into a canal, I found myself at a spot where women of a somewhat better class lived in its centre, and on its outskirts very poor harlots.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 374\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p>\u201cI will,-have I the money? \u2014 can\u2019t help it, \u2014 if one won\u2019t another will\u201d, and I slunk into a street, half ashamed of entering it. Saw girls standing at doors, never paused for selection, nor to see if one looked nicer than another, it was cunt I wanted. The moment I turned the corner of the street, I cared not who or what, as long as she had a petticoat and what it hid from sight. I took the nearest.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWill you let me have you for five shillings?\u201d was all I uttered. I recollect it as well as possible, hanging my head, ashamed of my offer, and not looking at the girl, ashamed of being seen in the neighbourhood.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAll right\u201d, said she turning round. I followed her through the little narrow passage of a four-roomed house into a little room with a bed on one side of it. I looked at her, and she at me for an instant only. \u201cHere are the five shillings\u201d, said I. \u201cShall I undress?\u201d \u201cNo.\u201d \u201cShall we get on the bed?\u201d \u201cNo, at the side\u201d, -and whilst speaking I had half lifted her on to it. Laughing with a peculiar chuckle she fell back, pulling up her clothes. I saw plump thighs, dark hair, felt giddy, could not see, recollect opening the lips, and began to spend as the tip of my prick touched her cunt. Following the spunk as it shot up the passage as it opened its way, with one thrust I was up her, and had finished. Fifty times in my life up to the time I pen this, has a similar rapid ejaculation occurred to me when randy.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDidn\u2019t you want it!\u201d said she. They were the first words I recollect being uttered as I bent over her. How divine she seemed. \u201cLet me do it again.\u201d \u201cOh! you ought to give me a little more.\u201d \u201cI\u2019ll give you a shilling, it\u2019s all I have I fear; but more if I have it.\u201d \u201cVery well then\u201d, said a soft voice. Oh ! what a heavenly few minutes they seemed to me, \u2014 they still seem to me,<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">\u2014 as I fucked her again. First and second fuck must have been all over in five minutes. I had not uncunted.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 375\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p>\u201cPull it out\u201d, said she after an interval, my cock still keeping in her; but I kept close to her, and up her. \u201cBe still dear, do pray, \u2014 I\u2019ll see what money I have.\u201d My hat and my great-coat were on, it was cold, I had only unbuttoned my trousers enough to get out my prick. Keeping still up her, I thrust my hand into my trouser\u2019s pocket, pulled out all the money I had, and put it on the bed beside her. \u201cSee, it is all I have, every farthing, a little more than I said, \u2014 let me do it again, \u2014 there is more than seven shillings\u201d, \u2014and pressing well on to her haunches, I began wriggling my prick.<\/p>\n<p>She turned her head, looked at the money, but did not touch it. \u201cVery well\u201d, said she in a low voice, \u201cbut take it out, \u2014 don\u2019t make my chemise in a mess, I have not another clean, \u2014 don\u2019t make a mess on the bed if you can help it.\u201d \u201cI shan\u2019t.\u201d \u201cYes you will, you have spent such a lot, it\u2019s running out now.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I withdrew. She took a towel which was close at hand, wiped her cunt and spread another for her bum. I threw off hat and coat. Soon now we were both on the bed, I up her, and leaning on my elbow for the first time really looked at her. Up to that moment cunt, cunt, nothing but cunt was in my mind. Now I saw that her eyes were blueish, her hair dark and wavy, I recollect our staring in each other\u2019s faces for a minute or two without speaking. A candle on a little table close to the bed showed a strong light on us sideways; then we both fucked with vigour, and Mary Davis spent with me, \u2014 she spent with me, that poor little gay woman.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou are a nice poke\u201d, said the girl. I got off the bed, sat on a chair by the fire, and looked at the merry face of the little gay woman as she smiled at me whilst washing her quim. The pleasure I had just had, the entrancement of the carnal pleasure contrasted so strongly with my misery at home, that I burst into tears, and sobbed like a child. She rubbed her quim dry, then silently came up to me, put her hand on my shoulder, and stood without uttering a word till my passion was over. \u201cAre you unhappy?\u201d said she in a gentle tone. Yes I was. \u201cNever mind, I dare say it will be over some day-we have all got unhappiness.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 376\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p>Her kind voice and manner-she a gay woman who owed me no kindness\u2014so contrasted with the coldness elsewhere, that it made me worse and again I sat sobbing, and taking no notice of her; she still standing with her hand on my shoulder.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHave something to drink\u201d, said she. \u201cYes\u201d,-but recollecting myself, \u201cNo, I have no money, I have given you every farthing I have.\u201d \u201cNever mind, \u2014 do you like gin ?-I do.\u201d \u201cYes.\u201d She called out to the landlady, \u201cFetch me a shilling\u2019s worth of gin, and mind you don\u2019t take any,-mind a shilling\u2019s worth fills this .bottle to here (giving the landlady a large medicine bottle), don\u2019t take any, and I will give you a little. I\u2019ll pay for the gin\u201d, said she turning to me.<\/p>\n<p>I sat looking at the fire. \u201cYou have not washed yourself\u201d, said she. \u201cNo, are you unwell?\u201d \u201cNo, I think I am all right, but we can\u2019t always say you know, and it\u2019s best to wash after us\u201d, \u2014 and I washed.<\/p>\n<p>I took hot gin and water, and got cheered, even began to smile when she said, \u201cYou are a gentleman, ain\u2019t you?\u201d \u201cYes I think so.\u201d \u201cI am sure you are by your manner, but you are poor I suppose.\u201d I told her the entire truth, my heart was so full, I told this strange gay woman all my trouble, all my misery, wanted more gin and water, and having in my pocket a gold pencil-case, a gift of an aunt\u2019s, \u201cGet some more gin\u201d, said I, \u201ctake this and pawn it, for I have no money.\u201d She would not. \u201cI am sure, if you say you will bring me the money, that you will. I will pay for more gin.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>So sitting, talking, and drinking gin and water, she sitting opposite to me listening whilst I told my troubles, and my burst of troubles over, relieved by my confidences, I became aware that she was plump, fleshy, good-looking, and had a mild sympathetic eye. Up to that time cunt alone had fascinated me, now I thought of the woman, and a liking for her because she seemed kind stole over me; desire to have her, caress her, spend in her on that account, rather than a desire for her cunt alone, thrilled through me as I looked at her sitting half facing me by the fire; her clothes slightly raised, that the warmth might reach her limbs, one elbow on her knee, the hand supporting her face turned towards me full of interest. And so an hour or more ran away.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI want you again so, but I have no more money.\u201d \u201cNever mind, you may have me, \u2014 shall I undress?\u201d \u201cOh! do, \u2014 do, \u2014 how round and plump&nbsp;<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">you are,-but I have no more money.\u201d \u201cNever mind, \u2014 give me more when you see me again. Come into the bed, \u2014 see the sheets are quite clean, \u2014 no one has slept in them, I take the clean ones off every night, and put on others before I go to bed,-stop with me all night.\u201d We both undressed, and jumped into bed together. I was frantic with pleasure as I cuddled up to her plump warm body, and felt her from her neck to her knees; rolled over her, and kissed her, till I settled down between her thighs; and then Mary Davis and I fucked, and laid still, and then fucked again, and so on, till I could do it no longer.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 377\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p>It was three in the morning. \u201cStop all night\u201d, said she, \u201cI will give you a nice breakfast in the morning.\u201d I would not, had a strong desire to keep up appearances of propriety and happiness at home, if I had not the reality; so with a sigh rose, and dressed, borrowed a shilling of her, and went out into the street. Silent and dirty it was, and raining hard as I walked home to my miserable bed.<\/p>\n<p>At dusk next day with impatience I went off to Mary Davis\u2019, gave her what I had promised, and money for that evening besides, and when I had had her, we sat down and talked again.<\/p>\n<p>She was a short woman about nineteen years old, plump without fat, but as nicely covered as any woman I ever saw; had a big bum, large thighs, plenty of room between them, and dark hair on her cunt which had strongly developed lips, it was large outside in proportion to her size. She had a soft, kind face, beautiful grey eyes, nearly black hair which draped naturally, and was altogether as nice a little woman as one could have wanted. I have wondered often how she could have settled down in a neighbourhood of costermongers, and taken five shillings for her person, when she might as well have been a two-sovereign woman, had she tried elsewhere. I put her up to trying at a future day, but she never would.<\/p>\n<p>Her room was about twelve feet square. A large bed took up one third of it, a table next the only window, two chairs (one easy), little cupboards in the recesses by the fire-place, on which stood china and glasses, a small wash-hand stand, a chest of drawers, with slop-pail, coal-scuttle, and looking-glass completed the furniture. All was scrupulously clean, the bed-linen white.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 378\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p>Having broken my virtuous resolution, I never regained it, and for a week fucked Mary from six in the evening till two the next morning. My week\u2019s amusement cost me about two pounds, but then that modest sum was too much for my pocket, so I left off for a while, and gave Mary a chance of keeping her other friends. They were mostly poor clerks, she told me, and married men better off, who gave her a pound, or at times paid her rent if in arrear. She paid I think but twenty-five shillings a week for her board and lodging together. My too exclusive attentions for a week had prevented her regulars from coming. There was lots of cheaper cunt in the neighbourhood so to send them away with full balls was dangerous.<\/p>\n<p>The house was kept by an old man and woman, he a carpenter almost too old, yet who went to daily work. He used to fetch gin and beer for us. There was no lodger in the house. They were a decent couple, and after a time I used to talk to the old woman, and when Mary once went away ill, she got me a beautifully shaped girl, I had offered her money to get me a girl of about fourteen years of age, a virgin. The streets about there swarmed with girls and boys who played about at night, I could hear their smutty language as they ran after each other yelling, laughing and quarrel-ling. She tried, but never could; she was not a woman who undertook that sort of thing, but the money tempted her. \u201cThere are lots of girls about\u201d, said she, \u201ctheir mothers don\u2019t care what they do, but you want a virgin,-Lor ! where\u2019s she to be found?-when they\u2019s about thirteen or fourteen years old they won\u2019t be kept in, they is about the dark streets at night, and Lor ! if you heard what I have in the streets where the costers\u2019 barrows is, of a night!\u201d And so the old woman intimated that all the young girls of that select neighbourhood, were got into by the coster boys, and that a virginity was a rarity at fourteen years old. I afterwards groped several young girls in those dark streets, and there was certainly no obstacle to my fingers searching their cunts.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI thinks I knows a steady little gal, whose mother\u2019s just died, her father ain\u2019t no good, and you and Mary must ask her in; I can\u2019t have nothin to do with it except gettin her here.\u201d One day afterwards she told me she had asked the girl to tea, and that she was as curious as could be to know all about it (meaning fucking). \u201cShe knows as much as we do\u201d, said the old woman with a chuckle. \u201cWas far as talking goes and she would like to know as much as them as does it as well, but she is timid; there is three&nbsp;<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">of them, she is the eldest, the father leaves her in charge, you shall see her.\u201d Mary Davis had gone home ill. The girl was brought in, I sent out for gin, a nice little girl she was, and she drank some of it. The old woman then left with a wink. The girl took my kisses very well, never said a word, so getting on by degrees I talked to her about naked people, and getting children, felt her ankles and legs, then told her I woulld give her a shilling if she would feel my cock. She did not say a word, but stood still, my arm round her waist, whilst I pulled out my stiff prick. Then she bent forward curiously, whilst I put her little hand round it, and guiding it, pulled the foreskin down from the tip. Then I put my hand up her clothes, and felt her thighs and bum; but on bringing my hand to the cunt, she broke away in tears saying, \u201cOh I no sir, \u2014 I would rather not sir, \u2014I\u2019m much obliged to you sir for showing it me, and the shilling; but I would rather not sir,-oh ! let me go, let me go, \u2014 Mrs. Smith, \u2014 Mrs. Smith.\u201d The old woman was listening, and came in instantly. \u201cOh! what are you doing to her?\u201d said she in a whining tone, \u201cwhat is the matter my dear? \u2014 don\u2019t cry, \u2014 oh ! you should not sir\u201d, \u2014 and winking at me, away she went with the girl; then came back, said the girl was scared, and she feared it was no go. \u201cBut if you heared her talk, you would think she would let any man do anything with her.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 379\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p>Half-an-hour afterwards the girl had composed her-self, and came back. I had more gin, the old woman again left us, the girl had another shilling, and again she felt me. I began talking to her about the parsley-bed out of which children come, and generally on the subject of generation and its working tools. \u201cNow dear don\u2019t be alarmed (she seemed as timid as a hare), you know what a cunt is?\u201d \u201cYes\u201d, said she, \u201cit\u2019s a nasty word,-poor mother told father he was a beast cause he said it when drunk.\u201d \u201cWell my dear, some-thing comes out of a man if he puts this up a cunt, and that gets children, \u2014 lay hold of my prick, and you will see\u201d,-and guiding her little hand I frigged myself with it. But she cried out when I attempted to feel her cunt, and I never had her. The old woman said she was frightened to bring her again, that she and Mary Davis might manage it together, and when Davis came back I wished her to try, but she refused to have anything to do with it. The lech passed away, for it was but a whim. At that time I liked large well-haired cunts.<\/p>\n<p>I am anticipating, for this took place nearly two years after I first had Mary Davis. That girl got fond of me, and I liked her. I got a little better&nbsp;<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">off, and used to give her more money; but she always took what I gave her contentedly. The only thing I can remember out of the common course of lecherous events in such acquaintances, is that I took one for spending over her, used to fuck up to spending-point, then pull out my prick, and frigging it, emit my semen on to her belly, breasts, or thighs; then I began fucking again, almost directly I had discharged and looking at my spunk lying on her flesh. When my pleasure came on again, I would put her hand on to my spunk; and directly her fingers touched it, it fetched me, and she as well, although she always said it was a dirty trick. But I only did this a few times. I began also to use French letters, for reasons she advised me to do so.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 380\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p>The neighbouring streets were full of poor gay women. She heard that I had been seen going into a house in the neighbourhood, and cried about it. Her health got bad, her womb began to fall, and the doctor said she was not strong enough for a gay life. She told me she was the daughter of an under game-keeper, that a young tradesman kept company with her, she liked him, and he said he meant to marry her. Bringing her home one evening when she had got out on the sly, they felt each other\u2019s privates on the road. Very soon after she and one of her sisters were allowed to go to some village dance. Her sister walked off with her sweetheart;&nbsp;<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">Mary\u2019s young man took her to some cottage, did it to her twice, and then walked home with her. She did not know whose fault it was; his or hers, for from the night they had felt each other, she thought of nothing else till she had his prick up her. Her father found it out, she ran away to London, became gay, and had never lived in any other house but the one I visited her in. \u201cWhenever I saw him after he had felt me\u201d (her lover) she would say, \u201cI felt in a flurry all over, and could think of nothing else, I longed to feel his hand on my thing again,-she soon did.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p>She went home ill, came back, her womb got worse, she went to a hospital, got thin and fretted, again went home, and I never heard more of her. I had great pleasure in her society, it was my greatest solace to tell her all my misery, for she was a complacent kind creature. It was wonderful to see how clean everything was in that little square room, yet with the exception of the fire-place, she cleaned everything herself. At about two o\u2019clock in the day she was dressed, and standing at the door, to catch passers-by. She never spoke to them unless they spoke to her. She&nbsp;<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">was to me at first a novel experience but I soon had plenty of experience of the poor class of women in adjacent streets.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 381\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p>I found it not wise to go into the streets well dressed, so put on old things, drew my hat over my eyes, assumed a slouching gait, and walked along slowly, talking to the women fill I found one I liked. Their salutation usually was, \u201cCome here dear, \u2014 come and see what I have got to show you.\u201d \u201cWhat?\u201d \u201cSuch a nice cunt, \u2014 such a lot of hair.\u201d \u201cSuch a fat arse\u201d, would say another. \u201cHow much will you let me for?\u201d \u201cWhat you like, \u2014 come in.\u201d \u201cI have not much money,-let me look at your cunt for a shilling.\u201d \u201cCome in then.\u201d Another would say, \u201cMake it two, and I\u2019ll strip.\u201d Many a cunt I have seen for a shilling. If I did not like it, I went further on, or into the next street.<\/p>\n<p>The street-doors were usually open, the women when dressed lolling just inside them, with head out, but dropping back if they saw a likely man, and addressing him as he passed in loud or low tones, according to their cheek. If a woman I had had and expected to see was not visible, my way was to step inside the passage, and listen at the door; if through the key- hole I saw a light, or heard voices, there was business on. If in the evening the outside shutters of the room were closed, I knew the woman was engaged for a long time, perhaps her own man, a cab-man, a costermonger, or some man of similar class was with her, if late. The women there though about the same price, or cheaper, had quite different manners from the Waterlo0 road ones. There were rarely more than one woman in a house, and always on the ground floor, the landlord or lady living in the back room, or upstairs. The rooms were mostly let to working people, who seemed quiet enough.<\/p>\n<p>Lots of children were about, who played in the streets at day, but disappeared if quite young towards dusk. If a man stopped and talked to a gay woman at the door, the children of the house usually went in, always did if more than about ten years old. They drew back as if they knew that a bargain for fucking was to be struck, and I believe knew all about it. They were mostly girls who sleeping in the same room with their parents, I dare say had seen the game of mother and father played often enough. The bigger girls frisked about the streets of an evening with boys of the same age, or not much older.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 382\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p>If a woman could get you to enter the passage, she almost pulled you into her room. \u201cCome in, \u2014 don\u2019t stand there,-come out of the way of the lodgers, \u2014 I\u2019ll tell you if you come in,-well make it half-a-crown, -I\u2019ve got such a nice cunt, \u2014 such a fat arse, \u2014 feel my bubbies,-look here, \u2014 come in, and let me feel your prick.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>This was all said rapidly, and according to the inducements the woman had to offer. It generally ended in my going in, and the bargain was completed inside. \u201cI\u2019ll frig you, \u2014 do anything you She, \u2014 look here (showing rapidly her breasts, and covering them up again),-here is a big pair of legs (pulling her clothes up), \u2014 yes you may fuck me how you She, \u2014 oh ! yes I want to piss bad.\u201d I have heard this hundreds of times. Once inside ! never came out without paying something. The women always said or did just enough to wet my appetite for knowing or seeing a little more, so I paid, and often enough was disappointed, and left; but saw a lot.<\/p>\n<p>In these streets about seven in number, during a period of two or three years, I had many women, even whilst I visited Mary Davis. I dare say fifty women I fucked, and felt as many more before I ceased going to the neighbourhood. Two or three of the adventures there are alone worth writing. At one house I was robbed of a pin whilst actually fucking the woman.<\/p>\n<p>A tall broad-built woman of about thirty, was loll-at a door one night. I do not recollect having seen her before, for I knew many women by sight, even though I had not had them. She looked like a coster\u2019s wife. I should have passed on, but for the lewd way in which her eyes met mine. I stopped, she instantly looked rapidly up and down the street, went back inside the door-way saying very loudly, \u201cYou want my lodger, but she has left here\u201d. but as she said this, she stepped inside the front room, and beckoned me in both with hand and head, her eyes wide open, and looking anxious. Slowly I followed in. She was so big that I thought I should like a feel, and if I liked that would pay more, and have more. \u201cI\u2019ll give you a shilling to feel your cunt.\u201d \u201cVery well\u201d, said she standing still, and not attempting to lift her clothes slightly as most of the women used to do. I got my hand on her thighs, she pushed it away, retreated towards the bed and sat on it. I took out a shilling, and as usual put it on the mantel-piece. \u201cThere is the money, \u2014 let me now.\u201d She no longer&nbsp;<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">resisted, I felt her, and she opened her legs to facilitate my groping. She put her hand on my shoulder. \u201cIs your cock standing?\u201d said she in a whisper. \u201cYes feel it\u201d, said I unbuttoning. She grabbed at it as if she meant to pull it off.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 383\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p>Her manners struck me as uncommon, and I began to feel uncomfortable; but under the squeezing of my cock, and the feeling of her cunt the usual desire to leave one\u2019s sperm up her came over me. \u201cLet me fuck you,-I\u2019ll give you two shillings more.\u201d Without reply she fell back on the bed, I began to throw up her clothes. \u201cOh ! no I can\u2019t let you do that.\u201d I had when with strange women just then been using French letters, and the fear of infection came over me when she would not submit herself to my inspection. \u201cYou have got something the matter with you, and I shan\u2019t, I said. \u201cNothing of the sort\u201d, said she angrily, \u201cI\u2019m not gay, \u2014 I\u2019m the landlady,-I am married, and have three children, \u2014 they are abed in the next room,-you may see them if you like. My lodger\u2019s gone,-you\u2019ve been here afore to see her,-I\u2019ve seen you afore,-but I\u2019m not gay, and can\u2019t have anything the matter with me,-it\u2019s impossible.\u201d All this nearly in a whisper. Astonished I laughed. \u201cDon\u2019t make a noise\u201d, said she, \u201cI don\u2019t want the lodgers to know I am in this room, they know it\u2019s empty, \u2014 come on\u201d, and grasping my prick again, she surrendering herself more freely to my investigations.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhere is your husband?\u201d \u201cAway on a job in the country; I haven\u2019t seen him for three months, and have not been touched for that time, so help me God; you may do it without fear,-there then look, if you must\u201d, said she, letting me throw up her clothes, and look well at her cunt, which I opened. \u201cI\u2019m a quiet woman.\u201d Then she turned round, twisting herself so that she could get hold of my cock as I stood pulling her about. \u201cCome on my dear.\u201d The next minute I was spending up her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGo on, you were so quick, \u2014 go on\u201d, said she in spasmodic utterances, jerking her bum, clutching me to her, and using the same endearments as any other woman,-women are all the same, from the princess to the peasant. I had spent quickly, but shoved on as well as I could, and in a second or two with a sigh, her cunt relaxed.<\/p>\n<p>I moved out of her quickly, for fear of the ladies\u2019 fever haunted me a little. She lay with her clothes up to her navel, till I had washed myself. \u201cThere is no towel or soap\u201d, I said. Then she moved. \u201cI\u2019ll get you some, \u2014<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">but don\u2019t afear me,-hush !\u2014don\u2019t make a noise, \u2014 wait five minutes for me, lock the door, and put out the light.\u201d I stood aghast at this request; it was in a low neighbourhood, costermongers, tramps, and even a nest of thieves I had heard was not far off. \u201cWhat the devil does she mean? \u2014 what game is up?\u201d came across my mind. \u201cI won\u2019t put out the light\u201d, I said. \u201cWell hide it in the cupboard, lock the door, and if any one knocks don\u2019t answer,-perhaps my late lodger\u2019s friends may come, not knowing the has gone, \u2014I don\u2019t want any one to know any one is in the room.\u201d This was all said in a whisper; she went out, shut the door gently, and walked to the back of the house, leaving her three shillings. I heard her foot-steps, and faintly afterwards the sounds of talking in the back room,-the partitions in the poor houses were thin.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 384\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p>I dried my tool with my shirt and sat on the bed, looking round at the poor room, wondering what dodge was up. She did not return, and thinking over the incidents, came to the conclusion that she was not a gay woman. There was just that difference in manners, in getting on to the bed, in taking her pleasures, and in her whole behaviour about the fucking, which there always is between a woman however loose she may be, but who does not fuck professionally, and the regular trader in her charms. I saw it then, and I see it still clearer writing about it now.<\/p>\n<p>Nevertheless I began to think of leaving, feeling uneasy as she did not return for more than ten minutes. With my hat on, I was just about to run off, after hearing a man\u2019s footsteps pass along the passage, when I heard a voice cry up the stairs, \u201cMrs. Brown, Mrs. Brown, I\u2019m going out to get a mouthful of fresh air, \u2014if the children cry, will you see to them?\u201d A shrill voice replied, a female step passed my door, into the street. A second afterwards the door slowly opened (I had unlocked it as I heard what I supposed were her footsteps going along the passage). In she came, holding up her finger for silence, then quietly closing and locking the door, she stood smiling at me. \u201cDon\u2019t make a noise, they think I am out\u201d, she said.<\/p>\n<p>I looked fully at her now, my lust satisfied. She was a big woman of say thirty years of age, coarse, common, but clean; she had a dress on which opened in front like that of a woman who suckles, and some sort of cap on her head. I did not know what to make of it, for she stood as if waiting for me to speak. I did not, and taking the candle, she put it down on the&nbsp;<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">floor by the side of the drawers, or something of the sort, and remarked, \u201cThey won\u2019t see the light through the crack of the door now.\u201d Again a man\u2019s heavy foot-step was heard: \u201cThat\u2019s my upstairs lodger\u201d, said she when she noticed my listening.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 385\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p>\u201cYou are really not gay?\u201d said I. Then she repeated what she had said before, and sat on the side of the bed by me. \u201cYou have big breasts\u201d, I remarked. \u201cYes I was a fine woman, every one said before I married.\u201d It is impossible to be near a woman without wishing to ascertain her hidden charms. In the hurried embrace with her I had thought of nothing but cunt. At that time of my life, to see a woman, to long for her, to make my bargain, and to fuck her, was often an affair of not much more than ten minutes; it was only after the fuck that I looked well at the female I had pierced.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLet me feel them\u201d, I said. She hesitated, but I undid the dress, and felt two breasts large and white, and pulled one out. \u201cMy nipple is spoilt with suckling\u201d, said she, \u201cI\u2019ve not yet done giving milk.\u201d \u201cLet\u2019s have you again.\u201d \u201cYes\u201d,-and she got on to the bed. \u201cLet me see your cunt.\u201d \u201cOh I no, \u2014 don\u2019t, \u2014 I won\u2019t.\u201d My suspicion came back; with my prick out I still hesitated. \u201cI\u2019ve not washed myself since you did me\u201d, said she. \u201cWell wash your cunt.\u201d She took my basin, and washed herself. Then I had a look at her cunt, and again fucked her. Lord how she enjoyed it, and so did I, that big coarse woman; but she would not let me look long at her belly, perhaps marked through child-birth. She had thickish, lightish brown hair on her quim; it was a cock-squeezer too, and how wet it got in our copulation. I remarked it to her. She said, \u201cI\u2019m wet, and no mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I lay on her afterwards, my prick dangling against her cunt, and talked. Her husband was an artizan away on a job, she kept the house, and let lodgings; her husband was half his time away. \u201cYou\u2019ve seen the girl who was in this room,-I recollect you, \u2014 I\u2019ve seen you in the street more than once, \u2014 You\u2019ve been with the woman opposite. I didn\u2019t mean anything till you spoke and stopped, but I\u2019d been dying for it, been wishing almost I were gay; the gal opposite had just gone in with a man, and I was wondering what my husband was doing, and just then you stopped and looked, and I thought I\u2019d let you. Do it again\u201d, said she slipping her hand between our bellies, and grasping my ballocks. And I did it again, as soon as I could.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 386\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ve never had another man but you and my own man I\u2019ll swear, \u2014 ask in the street, they will all say I\u2019m respectable,-but don\u2019t tell on me. I frig myself almost every day, if you must know, but that don\u2019t satisfy me, a woman who\u2019s had three children,-if I\u2019m in the family way now, I\u2019m in a mess, but I\u2019m not so much to blame, am I ?-think, three months away from your own man !\u2014but I tell you as you spoke to me I was a dying for it, \u2014 the girl who was here in this room used to say, \u2018Well Mrs. ***, you are a fool to pass your life almost without a you know what.\u2019 Well I was a dying for it, and she and lodgers would always tell me what the men did to them; and yet I never have had but you.\u201d So we lay talking for a time, she answering my questions, and sometimes volunteering remarks; but never leaving go of my prick, and every now and then saying, \u201cAin\u2019t you a fine man !\u2014you just are a fine young man!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>There were noises at the street-door, men were talking, a smell of tobacco reached us. \u201cIt\u2019s the upstairs back\u201d, said she, \u201che will stop there till he have smoked two pipes, so for God\u2019s sake don\u2019t leave\u201d, \u2014 and she sunk her voice lower. \u201cOh ! I must put out the light.\u201d Saying so, off the bed she got, blew it out, and got on to the bed again. There we lay quite another hour, speaking in whispers, feeling each other\u2019s privates, never washing, the spunk drying up as our hands fumbled about each other, I talking baudy, and telling her what gay women would do, she telling me she knew all about it, for her ground-floor lodgers were always gay. I asking questions about herself, heard that my cock was about the same size as her husband\u2019s. Wondering at the tightness of her cunt, as she had had three children, she said that the size was the same as before she had had a man. If she got in the family way she would be in a mess; she did not think she should, as she had not quite done suckling. She did not know how she managed to keep so firm and plump, for she had meat only twice a week. \u201cWhat then?\u201d \u201cPotatoes and herrings\u201d, \u2014 did not know what she would do, if she did not get another lodger soon to pay the rent, \u2014 she often could not pay for a meal.<\/p>\n<p>About two o\u2019clock in the morning there were lumping boots going upstairs. The lodger had gone to bed. We lighted the candle, I washed (there was still no towel), and no sooner had I washed than she laid hold of, and kissed my prick, stooping to do so,-and then we fucked again.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 387\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p>We parted, she took my money. \u201cI will keep this\u201d, she said, \u201cit will help me.\u201d I said it was for her. She let me quietly out, begging me never to mention what had taken place between us to any gal in the street. \u201cThough they won\u2019t believe you if you do, for I have a good character. I\u2019ve seed you often go in with them.\u201d I had fancied no one ever saw me in that low street, and wondered if any other person had recognised me there.<\/p>\n<p>I never had her again. Once or twice I saw her at the street-door, but so soon as she saw me she rushed in-doors, and I had too many fresh and younger women at hand to care about her. Here was a case of a woman who could not restrain herself, owing to the long absence of her legitimate doodle, and gave way to her uncontrollable passions for that night. That was the only conclusion I could come to.<\/p>\n<p>Then soon afterwards I had the clap. Mary cried, and declared she had not given it me, and I am sure she had not. Then almost for the first time I began to use condoms, or French letters, as they are called. I did not like them, but had suffered so much from gonorrhoea, that I carried them in my purse in readiness.<\/p>\n<p>My experience with this poor class of women was soon considerable. Satiated, sick of them, yet I continued to frequent them for the simple carnal pleasure of coition. There was no sentiment about it, no liking for the women, for though their manners sometimes amused me, they more frequently shocked me, and the poverty of some distressed me; but I had no money for choicer entertainment. My vigour was great, my pleasure in copulation almost maddening, a cunt was a cunt, and I got my pleasure and relief up it, what-ever its owner might have been. A sensuous imagination aided me. When once my prick was up a woman she was for the time more or less invested with charms, and her imperfections forgotten. I used to shut my eyes, and fancy I was stroking a houri with the finest limbs and ivory flesh, and could fancy all this up to the moment of ejaculation, I fancied thighs and cunt which were not those of the woman who was at that moment doing her best to please me. There were occasions when the women when naked revolted me, my prick refused to stand, and I departed without copulating, but those occasions with this class of women are not worth noting. I have been subject to this sudden revolt and prostration, sometimes even when the woman was&nbsp;<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">most beautiful. Nervousness, fear, some sudden dislike, and even most ridiculous reasons have caused it.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"page\" title=\"Page 388\">\n<div class=\"layoutArea\">\n<div class=\"column\">\n<p>I should have mentioned that gradually it had taken hold of my mind that my prick was a very small one. How this notion first arose I cannot quite trace, I certainly had it in a degree when a youth, and it be-came stronger owing to the remarks of some French women. The men I saw fucking at Camille\u2019s had very large pricks, and no doubt they were selected on that account for exhibition; but I did not know that then, and used mentally to compare mine with theirs, and also with those of some of my former schoolfellows, and to my disadvantage. With many harlots of both high and low class I had talked about size; each told me of men who had big pricks, rarely of those who had small ones. Experience has since taught me that harlots like talking about big pricks, for size affects their imagination agreeably. Of ridiculously small ones they make mention for a laugh, the average sizes pass without their notice. I used to ask them how mine compared with the big ones they spoke of, and got at last into my head the erroneous opinion about my own machine. At times I would produce it with an apologetic remark. \u201cMy prick\u2019s not a very big one, is it?\u201d-and was much pleased when the woman\u2019s reply was complimentary. I know now from the inspection of many men\u2019s, that mine compares very favourably with the average, and is larger than most; but for many years I was of a very different opinion, and at times was almost ashamed of my prick, so much so that when a woman said it was as large as most, and many said that. I did not believe them, still less did I believe them when they said it was a handsome prick; then I thought they were hum-bugging me.<\/p>\n<p>Now as I add these few words written years after the foregoing, and after having seen some dozens of pricks, both languid and erect, I know what they said was true, and I know that there is a size, a form, a curve, and a colour in pricks which makes some handsomer than others, just as undoubtedly there are ugly and handsome cunts.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>VOLUME 2 CHAPTER 16 Married, and miserable. \u2022 Virtuous intentions. \u2022 Consequences. \u2022 Mary Davis. \u2022 A virtuous child. \u2022 Low class fucksters. \u2022 A concupiscent landlady. \u2022 Reflexions on my career. \u2022 On the sizes of pricks.. \u2022 My misconception. My life was now utterly changed; married. I was quite needy, with a yearly &hellip;<\/p>\n<p class=\"read-more\"> <a class=\"\" href=\"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/?page_id=1315\"> <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Volume Two Chapter Sixteen<\/span> Read More &raquo;<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1315","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1315"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1315"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1315\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2058,"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1315\/revisions\/2058"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1315"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}