{"id":1517,"date":"2022-08-21T17:23:02","date_gmt":"2022-08-21T17:23:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/?page_id=1517"},"modified":"2022-09-13T17:50:57","modified_gmt":"2022-09-13T17:50:57","slug":"volume-four-chapter-thirteen","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/?page_id=1517","title":{"rendered":"Volume Four Chapter Thirteen"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t<div data-elementor-type=\"wp-page\" data-elementor-id=\"1517\" class=\"elementor elementor-1517\" 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-4516ffd elementor-section-boxed elementor-section-height-default elementor-section-height-default\" data-id=\"4516ffd\" 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-0e3429c\" data-id=\"0e3429c\" 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-5a3e256 elementor-widget elementor-widget-html\" data-id=\"5a3e256\" 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\/0au61QUH8KbG4uadFf3Gty\" 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-e5acb35\" data-id=\"e5acb35\" 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-43b5bff elementor-widget elementor-widget-html\" data-id=\"43b5bff\" 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\/3XX2XyB7cC4eiKtIb0H7Cp\" 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-6e44c96 elementor-section-boxed elementor-section-height-default elementor-section-height-default\" data-id=\"6e44c96\" 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-7f74da5\" data-id=\"7f74da5\" 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-50c8968 elementor-widget elementor-widget-text-editor\" data-id=\"50c8968\" 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<div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; width: 1083px;\"><main style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><article style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\" data-elementor-type=\"wp-page\" data-elementor-id=\"2808\" data-elementor-settings=\"[]\"><div><section data-id=\"c8f6b82\" data-element_type=\"section\"><div><div style=\"width: 1083px;\" data-id=\"df82b22\" data-element_type=\"column\"><div style=\"width: 1083px;\"><div style=\"width: 1063px; text-align: center; color: #5f1818; font-family: Georgia, sans-serif;\" data-id=\"e2019ca\" data-element_type=\"widget\" data-widget_type=\"text-editor.default\"><div><div title=\"Page 731\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\"><b>VOLUME 4 CHAPTER 13<\/b><\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\"><i>Many miscellaneous whorings. \u2022 Mr. McCabe. \u2022 The warehouse in the City \u2022 Tenants paying rent. \u2022 McCabe\u2019s jocosity. \u2022 Suggestions for getting bairns. \u2022 Mrs. ***. \u2022 The Scotch wife. \u2022 The four-roomed cottages. \u2022 Repairs needed. \u2022 At her cottage. \u2022 Easy conversation. \u2022 The steep staircase. \u2022 The bed stood upon. \u2022 The hole in the roof. \u2022 The hole in the flesh. \u2022 Carnal wants and weakness. \u2022 Against the bed, and on it. \u2022 Against the dresser. \u2022 An alarm. \u2022 The amour terminates. \u2022 Reflexions, regrets, and weakness. \u2022 On the sin of adultery. \u2022 On the power of lust.<\/i><\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">From the time I left Sally at the sea-coast till the spring my connections were purely with the venal ones. With the exception of having a few times fucked Sally, and her friend and mistress, Mrs. Melvelle in London, the ladies were mainly selected at the Argyle Rooms, which is the resort of the handsomest and best-dressed gay women. Many swell- women also are there with, and at other times without, their protectors. With several of the sweetest of these creatures I have had intimacy, and often passed the night with the choicest of them. I did not take a permanent fancy to any one of them, though one did to me. This variety is charming. To take home lovely women in the bloom of youth, and in the hey-day of their lust, to speculate on the charms yet unseen, to kiss and feel their thighs on the road home, to see them undress leisurely, their breasts appear, their naked arms, the limbs show one after the other; to lift the diaphanous chemises, see the round mottes; to note and compare mentally the variety in form and development of the various splits, lips, and clitoris, filled me with voluptuous and ever-varying de- light. And now I was able to afford to have these charmers; for though not at the prices paid by their rich admirers, I rarely was refused by them. This charming variety in copulation was only broken, or rather varied by the following little incident.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\"><i><span style=\"font-weight: bold;\">I had at that time an old friend who had known me from my birth. A Scotchman, rich, and a widower<\/span>,<\/i>\u00a0liberal in some things, but grinding in making money, though he was childless; and had none to whom he cared much about leaving his money to.\u00a0<span style=\"font-weight: bold;\"><i>He was about seventy-three years old,\u00a0<\/i><\/span><span style=\"font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit;\"><i>but a splendid big old man, with a head of thick reddish hair and fine false teeth. Though living in London most of his life he had never lost the Scottish dialect<\/i><\/span><span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">, indeed was proud of it, and of his nationality.<\/span><span style=\"font-weight: bold;\"><i>\u00a0He was a wholesale * * * ** merchant, which business he carried on in the heart of London in huge old-fashioned premises. I may add now, that he left me a largish sum of money when he died<\/i><\/span><span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">, and I spent it in travelling and whoring.<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div title=\"Page 732\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">He had some funny whims and habits, among which was\u00a0<i>making some of his town-tenants go to pay him personally<\/i>. He did this to save the expenses of an agent he said, though I believe it really was for his amusement. I have heard that the tenants could with the greatest difficulty induce him to do anything to a house when once they were living in it.\u00a0<i>One of my sisters and I used to stop often at his country house from Friday till Monday<\/i>, on which day he came to town as he said for his tenants. He had several clerks, but they had nothing to do with his property. He was fond of consulting me about some of his houses, and often I was present when his rents were paid.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Within a stone\u2019s throw of his counting-house were several courts. One court containing about a dozen small houses of four rooms each, and mostly let to weekly and monthly tenants. They were poorish but respectable; people of the foreman and shopman class, a class among which the wife does her own work, cooks her husband\u2019s food, etc. The old boy (Mr. McCabe) used to say this property should be mine.\u00a0<span style=\"font-weight: bold;\"><i>He did not leave it to me, but left me something very much better<\/i><\/span>. Several of these houses were inhabited by his own assistants and men, but he made even them or their wives attend and pay weekly, or monthly, together with other tenants, on Tuesday mornings.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">He was a dear old boy who could laugh at a smutty joke, though he never told them himself; but he would chaff a man or woman with double entendres, with hints, and suggestions perfectly unmistakable, and to the very limits of decency, without uttering an indecent word, or showing an indecent gesture. He was always ready to let this off at me for having no children, and specially this when any goodish-looking woman was present, before whom he dared venture on it.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">One morning I was with him on rent day, when in came a stout, fully- developed woman, middle-sized and full five-and-thirty clad in the\u00a0<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">neatest and cleanest light coloured cotton gown, and a nice white cap on her head. She was the wife of a man renting one of the houses in the court, and looked like a very well-to-do, neat little tradesman\u2019s wife. She was indeed handsome though of a coarse class, had chestnut-brown hair, and bright dark roguish eyes. I was smitten with desire the moment I saw her. Perhaps I wanted a woman, I can\u2019t say, but recollect taking a letch. She also did nothing but look at me, turning quickly away her eyes whenever she found mine upon her. \u201cSet ye doon Mrs. Byron,\u201d said the old man, which she did. Whilst he settled with some one else, we two looked at each other for some minutes, till my cock stood, and the woman who seemed cheeky flushed crimson. I\u2019ll bet she had got randy too \u2014 it was a case of cock-struck and cunt-struck. Her big, round, plump, fleshy form was greatly to my taste just then. At length McCabe being ready, the woman rose and came to his table, just in front of which was a chair. I was sitting on the other side of the table near to him with a newspaper in my hand.<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div title=\"Page 733\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cSet ye doon Mrs. Byron. \u2014 and how\u2019s the bairn? \u2014 has it left off suckling?\u201d said he. \u201cNow you\u2019re at me again, sir.\u201d The old man chuckled. \u201cWhat, not a babe yet!\u201d \u201cWhy you know there is not, \u2014 here\u2019s the month\u2019s rent, and you really must say what you\u2019ll do to the house, \u2014 it wants a lot, \u2014 my husband says he won\u2019t stay unless you do it up a little, \u2014 seven years, and you\u2019ve never even done a bit of whitewash.\u201d Whilst saying this the woman\u2019s eyes kept glancing at me at intervals.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">The old man took no notice about the repairs. \u201cWhy ye should be baith ashamed of yesels, you can\u2019t under-stand the business, \u2014 have ye put the pillow at the other end of the bed, and tried it there?\u201d \u2014 and he chuckled. I began to laugh. \u201cAye, aye, we understand all about it,\u201d said she with a strong Scottish accent, \u201cit\u2019s nae gude, \u2014 but about the repairs, \u2014 won\u2019t you paper the bed-room? \u2014 it won\u2019t cost much.\u201d McCabe turned a deaf ear. \u201cAye, aye, I\u2019ll see about it, after next quarter, \u2014 when you\u2019ve had yer fust bairn. There\u2019s a bonny lassie,\u201d said he turning to me, \u201cisn\u2019t she and been married ten years, and no bairn, \u2014 isn\u2019t she bonny,\u201d \u2014 and he winked, \u2014 \u201ca wish I war young again,\u201d \u2014 and the old man laughed and chuckled. \u201cAye ye\u2019ve been a weekend one in your day I\u2019ll bet,\u201d said she, \u201cnone but yersel knows the capers you\u2019ve cut.\u201d \u201cYou should make your husband sleep by himsel for a month, then go to bed some Saturday, and not get up til Monday.\u201d \u201cHe\u2019d be tired o that,\u201d said she laughing.<\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div title=\"Page 734\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I could keep my tongue no longer still. \u201cI\u2019d like to be him,\u201d said I, \u201cand I\u2019d go to bed on the Monday, and not get up till the Monday after.\u201d \u201cAye, \u2014 oor, \u2014 aye, \u2014 there, \u2014 lawk,\u201d said she trying to look modest, yet looking hard at me and laughing. The old man laughed loud. \u201cTry him, Mrs. Byron, \u2014 he won\u2019t hurt ye, for he can\u2019t get any bairns of his own.\u201d \u201cIs the gentleman married?\u201d said she. \u201cYes, worse luck for him\u201d (he hated my wife). He gave a receipt for the rent, the chaffing mixed with business went on. McCabe got serious when the woman said, \u201cWeel take this as a notice to leave.\u201d \u201cGo and see,\u201d said he turning to me, \u201cbut I won\u2019t pay much.\u201d He had sent me before on similar errands to one or two other houses, why? God only knows. Not wanting to offend him, \u201cI\u2019ll go at once,\u201d said I delighted at the idea of getting near her by myself, and with a vague notion that some fun would come of it.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cNo dinna coom yet,\u201d said she, \u201cit\u2019s no fit for ye to see, \u2014 I\u2019ll mak the bed and clean up, and tak oop the carpet, and yell see better,\u201d \u2014 and off she went. \u201cI won\u2019t spend more than one quarter\u2019s rent,\u201d said my old friend, \u201cthough they are gude tenants, and I dunna wish them to go.\u201d Winking his eye and chuckling, \u201cTak ye care Walt, she\u2019s a frisky one, though I won\u2019t tell your wife.\u201d I fired up, hoping to hear something warm about her; but there was nothing against her. She was a good, clean, industrious, sober wife, ten years married; \u201cbut,\u201d added the old man, \u201cI think she\u2019d like mair than her husband can do for her, \u2014 he\u2019s six feet high without his shoes, \u2014 but a poor creature \u2014 a poor creature.\u201d<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cI\u2019ll come back to my lunch with you, I am going to my stock-broker\u2019s,\u201d said I, \u201cand I\u2019ll go to see the house in the afternoon.\u201d Having thrown this dust in my friend\u2019s eyes, I went straight to Mrs. Byron\u2019s, ten minutes after she had left us.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">She opened the door. I entered a little sitting-room, all in it bright as a new pin, humble, yet with every comfort, \u2014 wonderful for her class of life it seemed to me. She showed me what she wanted done, whiting the ceiling, this and that. I said \u201cyes\u201d to everything, but was thinking of nothing but getting into her. Lust struck me all of a heap, our eyes were meeting each other, my lewedness was increasing. There she was in the house alone with me. \u201cSo you have no children,\u201d said I and we entered on the same strain that my old friend had. \u201cNor you?\u201d Then we compared notes. We had been both married for a number of years. I told her I\u00a0<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">hated my wife. \u201cOh! what a pity,\u201d said she, \u201cand such a fine mon as ye be.\u201d<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div title=\"Page 735\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Then we went into the kitchen. A little place with lots of tins as bright as silver, and a little table white as if just made. I complimented her on the beautiful cleanliness; she was much flattered. Yes she prided herself on it, cleaned everything herself every day, had nothing else to do; then had her dinner, and laid down and had a nap, then got ready for her husband\u2019s sup-per. \u201cWon\u2019t he be home to dinner?\u201d I asked. No it was too far off, \u2014 he never came home till half-past six, \u2014 just now he had gone a little way off for his firm, and would not be home for three or four days, \u2014 he was foreman somewhere.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I jumped at the news. \u201cI think we had better do what Mr. McCabe told you, go to bed at once, and not get up till your husband comes home, and see if we can get a bairn.\u201d \u201cAnd much good that will do me,\u201d said she, \u201cwon\u2019t it, if we did, \u2014 aye, that would get me into trouble,\u201d and she laughed. \u201cNo it won\u2019t, \u2014 we should have the fun, and no mischief after,<br \/>\u2014 you know I can\u2019t get bairns.\u201d \u201cAr dunna know, ar dunna know,\u201d said she shaking her head very slowly, looking at me, and turning scarlet. \u201cDamn it,\u201d I cried. \u201cgive me a kiss, \u2014 I\u2019ve been longing for you from the moment I saw you,\u201d \u2014 and I gave her a kiss or two without much resistance from her. She broke away, but I clutched her, and kissed her again and again, rubbing my belly up against hers in a baudy way.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Then we fell to talking about not having children, and how funny those things went. Some women the first time a man was in bed with them, it was done. Others might sleep with any man, and have none. \u201cHow did I know?\u201d she asked slyly, then turning off said, \u201cWell now have the floor mended, \u2014 look at that hole, \u2014I\u2019ve stopped it up, the mice come through, \u2014 the other night one came out, and ran up my clothes whilst sitting at the fire.\u201d I was ready with a baudy suggestion for that, or anything else she might have said, for I was now randy to recklessness.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cYou had your feet on the fender?\u201d \u201cYes.\u201d \u201cI was sure, and your clothes well up, warming it, weren\u2019t you now? \u2014 it is so nice to warm it, isn\u2019t it?\u201d She laughed. \u201cThe mouse peeped out, and seeing it looked so warm and cosy up between your thighs, ran to get between them. I wish I\u2019d been that mouse, \u2014 I\u2019d have got right in.\u201d She laughed, and gave me a hard slap on my shoulder. \u201cOh! you\u2019re a bad un,\u201d said she, \u201cI thot ye war when\u00a0<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">I saw ye fust.\u201d My cock was standing, I began to pull it about outside my trousers to let her see that I was randy. I always did that instinctively when trying to get over women, fancying that seeing me fiddling there, and knowing what it meant it made them randy too. She eyed me laughing, checking her-self, then laughing again and said demurely, \u201cThen there\u2019s the roof, the wet comes in both back and front, and just over the bed \u2014 tell Mr. McCabe that, won\u2019t you, and he\u2019ll repair it if ye say he must.\u201d<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div title=\"Page 736\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cI\u2019ve not seen where the roof leaks.\u201d \u201cCome up,\u201d said she. I followed her to the narrow staircase, scarcely wide enough for a stout man, and steep as a ladder. She went up first. Directly I had got up a stair, I laid my head down on them whilst she went up unsuspectingly, leaving me to look up her short petticoats. A jolly thick pair of legs I saw, thick and clumsy, but in such white stockings. As she got to the top, not hearing me she turned round, saw my game, and disappeared into the room. I followed quickly, she was covering up the bed. \u201cIt\u2019s all in a muddle,\u201d said she, \u201cexcuse it sir, I had not time \u2014 ye coomd sooner than ye said.\u201d She looked at me as I thought invitingly.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I\u2019m sure she was lewed at that minute. A strong, hale, half-fucked woman of thirty-five who had been half-an-hour talking baudily, though in guarded language, with a young man in whose ballocks the sperm was boiling. I caught her, and kissed her again. \u201cThere man, \u2014 that\u2019s all, \u2014 that\u2019s all,\u201d said she.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cI can\u2019t see the wet,\u201d said I. It was a large four-post bedstead of common make, but with as nice white hangings as I had in my own house. The bed nearly filled the little room. \u201cI must pull off the top,\u201d said she, \u201cdon\u2019t you see where the wet has come through?\u201d I did, but said I didn\u2019t. She put a chair by the side of the bed, and stepped from it on to the bed, pulled back the linen-head, and showed the stained ceiling. I put my hand up her clothes. With a cry she flopped down on to the bed, showing her limbs. \u201cAdun now, \u2014 daun, \u2014 Yell get me into trouble, \u2014 ar dun sir,\u201d \u2014 but I pushed my hands all about under her petticoats, pushed every- where and felt warm flesh and hair, whilst she squirmed about and squealed gently. I then shoved her violently back, pulled out my prick, and tried to feel her cunt. What I did feel I don\u2019t know; but she slid off the bed showing her limbs, and crying, \u201cHar dun now.\u201d I clutched her\u00a0<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">close as she came to the floor, my prick still out. \u201cLet me fuck you.\u201d \u201cAh! hish! Mon.\u201d I put both my hands round her, and kissed her, pulling her close to me. \u201cNow dunna, \u2014 ar won\u2019t, \u2014 na, \u2014 na, \u2014 now leave me alone, \u2014 yell be getting me into trouble.\u201d<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div title=\"Page 737\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">What next I scarcely know, but I talked, persuaded, and told her I\u2019d have her with a condom. She did not know what it was. I then often carried French letters in my pocket; so I pulled one out, explained it, and showed how it came over my prick. She was all curiosity. No it was beastly, fit for whores, said she, \u201cthem beasts.\u201d \u201cNo yell get me into trouble, no ye shan\u2019t, \u2014 I wonna,\u201d \u2014 and then leaning her back against the bed; one of her legs on the chair, one on the floor, in that ambiguous, uneasy position, with a strip of carpet slipping about under my feet, I got my prick into her. How the devil one leg was on the chair, one on the floor just then, I can\u2019t to this moment understand. Did she lift it up? did I But in that posture my prick made acquaintance with her cunt, and pushing hard the car-pet slipt away, my feet and me with it, out coming my prick whilst I stumbled against her in slipping.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Incensed and swearing, \u201cLet\u2019s do it properly my love,\u201d I pushed her back against the bed, and clutching her thighs with both hands heaved them up to my hips. I could not guide my pego, but pushed at random, its instinct directing, and I dare say her quiet help, soon got me to the nick after a few battering shoves against her buttocks, and cunt-wig; and then Mrs. Byron and I being joined together in holy copulation, moistened each other\u2019s privates copiously and speedily.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Well primed that morning, I stood a long time with my prick well up her after spending. She laid motionless. Then letting one of her legs drop on to the chair, and still holding up the other, I pushed up her drooping petticoats so as just to see her belly, and slowly with-drew my pego, full- sized though not in full ramming condition. As it left her cunt I saw the sperm draw out with it, and sat down on the chair. Then with a violent start, as if just awakened, and just as I had the merest glimpse of her split, she came to her feet, and pushed down her petticoats. We looked hard at each other for a moment, then without uttering a word she walked to the window and looked out. It was a bright, sunshiny day late in the autumn.<\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div title=\"Page 738\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I sat feeling my pego for a minute, still in want of a fuck, then went to her. \u201cOh! don\u2019t look out, \u2014 if they should see you.\u201d \u201cI\u2019ve come to see about the repairs, if they do.\u201d \u201cOh! but they had better not.\u201d Then I brought her to the side of the bed again. It was about two yards from the window to the place where the impress of her heavy arse was still visible on the bed. We looked at each other; she could not look me in the face long. \u201cFucking\u2019s nice, isn\u2019t it? \u2014 and you\u2019re a charming fuck.\u201d \u201cWe are a wicked pair,\u201d said she. \u201cNot at all, \u2014 we both wanted it, \u2014 neither your husband nor my wife will know, \u2014 they won\u2019t be the worse, and we are all the better, \u2014 let\u2019s do it again \u2014 feel, my prick, it\u2019s quite stiff,\u201d and I put her hand to it. She took it kindly, and held it softly, and we looked at each other again, my left arm round her waist, my other on her thighs.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cLet\u2019s feel your breasts,\u201d said I. \u201cNay, nay,\u201d \u2014 but she did not hinder me. I pulled open her dress, and felt the globes (each as big as a half-quartern loaf), and round to her armpits. A strong fleshy smell met me as I kissed them. I liked it, and remarked it. She thought it offended me. \u201cEvery night and morn I wash from top to toe,\u201d said she. Then kissing her breasts, one hand round her, I tried to feel her thighs higher up. She would not let me, struggled, and got up; but I got a feel, felt the sperm on her thigh, and touched the split. Then standing together, I excited her by talk, and touch, and kisses, and got her on to the bed.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Both laid quiet a minute, not more. Then with a rapid push down of my trousers, and a pull up of her petticoats, I turned on to her belly. My prick struck in-to the right path without guidance, a soft and gluey path. I clasped one side of her bum with one hand; with the other I played with her bubbies. Then we had that gloriously prolonged fuck, which a healthy couple in the prime of salacity have for their second spend, a fuck slower, more thoughtful, but in its voluptuousness better than the rapid spilling out of spunk which comes with the first fuck of the night. Ten minutes had not passed I think between our first and second crisis.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I dozed on the top of her, then slipped off to her side. Down she pulled her petticoats. We talked. \u201cI\u2019m afeared yell get me into trouble,\u201d said she again, \u201cair ye sure you\u2019ve got no bairns?\u201d<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I talked a history of smuttiness and love-making. I could always keep any woman listening when I began, gentle or simple, doxie or virgin. She wondered. \u201cAye I knew ye were a gay one, \u2014 we\u2019re a bad couple.\u201d In half\u00a0<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">an hour I wanted her again. She did not refuse, but would I go downstairs a while, \u201ca wee time?\u201d I guessed she wanted to piss, or something. Down I went. \u201cAn any one knock, coom up gently, and don\u2019t go near the winder,\u201d said she. I waited a few minutes, heard movements overhead, knew the jerry had been called into requisition, then up I went. She had locked the door, but let me in at once.<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div title=\"Page 739\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I had a feel up her fresh-washed cunt, and round her buttocks. My God, what spankers! and her breasts, what a pair! firm too, though so heavy. We fucked again. \u201cIt\u2019s time I had my bit of dinner,\u201d said she, \u201cwe are a bad coople.\u201d Then she began to talk about repairs. \u201cI\u2019ll come back in an hour,\u201d I said, \u201cdon\u2019t you say I\u2019ve been here.\u201d \u201cDunna come back, \u2014 dunna,\u201d said she. \u201cI wun\u2019t let ye mair.\u201d<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cI\u2019ve not seen what the house wants,\u201d said I. I went back to McCabe, and told him I had been to my solicitor\u2019s, then had luncheon with him, and bid him good-bye. \u201cBut what about the good woman\u2019s house?\u201d he asked. \u201cLord I\u2019ve forgotten all about it, \u2014 what\u2019s the number? \u2014 I\u2019ll go at once.\u201d He told it me, and back I went. She opened the door.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cCome in, come in, the neighbours will see ye,\u201d said she, \u201cbut dunna gae further.\u201d I gave her a prod with my finger in the region of her cunt, and shut the door. \u201cNow yell get us both into trouble, I\u2019se sure ye will \u2014 I could na eat my dinner for thinking about it, \u2014 I\u2019ve had awful dreams last night, and your face was in them.\u201d Luncheon had set me up, I was baudy in mind, randy in body, spite of my fuckings before luncheon. I went into the kitchen, and pulled up her petticoats. \u201cWhy you\u2019ve a clean chemise on.\u201d Yes she had, she said, \u201cthere be the other,\u201d pointing to a large tub with linen in the water. I could not move her lust, and spent some time in violently puffing up her petticoats, she in pushing them down. Then out I pulled my pego, and as she obstinately refused to leave the room, and struggled; after dropping on my knees, and kissing her cunt under her petticoats, I finished by shagging her as she stood with her backside up against the dresser. Whilst we stood wriggling gently after our full pleasure came a knock. \u201cMy husband,\u201d said she, \u201cget in the yard, and over the wall.\u201d I buttoned up my cock, and opened the back-door. Another knock. It was nothing of importance. How often I have been flurried in my fuckings by a knocking at a street-door. \u201cIt\u2019s a warning,\u201d she said hurriedly, \u201cI wish I never set eyes on ye.\u201d<\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div title=\"Page 740\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">The knock startled and upset me. I thought I had better go. Perhaps I had had enough of her; for I took out my pocket-book, and whilst she sat down on a chair, she told me all she wanted done. I made note of it, and prepared to go; but the baudy devil was still strong in me. \u201cYou\u2019ve spoiled another chemise sitting down,\u201d I said. \u201cNae, nae,\u201d she replied, \u201cyer nae so full,\u201d \u2014 and then I went away, gave McCabe an account of the house, and he said I might tell the \u201cgude woman,\u201d that she might have it all done up to ten pounds worth. \u201cI\u2019ll write it to her,\u201d said he. I agreed that was best.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">The next day I was with him. I had awakened in a liquorish frame of mind about the \u201cgude woman.\u201d He had written, but not sent the memorandum which was on a very small slip of paper as usual. \u201cYou haven\u2019t explained very clearly what you mean,\u201d I said when I had read it. \u201cYe tak it,\u201d said he, \u201cand tell her what I mean.\u201d So I did, got into the house with her after a little persuasion and a wrangle, and then assaulted her. She was strong, and for a time, though puffing up her clothes successfully, I could not get my hands more than half way up her thighs. But such baudy attacks at last so heat a woman who knows it all means fucking that there comes a point when lewed feelings over-come her, and she can resist no longer.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">It was so with Mrs. Byron. I pushed her at last on to a chair breathless, and had both hands up her clothes, one round her bum, the other between her thighs, and moved my fingers about so enticingly on the slit that she opened, and let me grope. \u201cIf I let ye this once, will ye gang?\u201d said she, \u201cye wunna wish to harm a body I\u2019m sure, \u2014 if Jack should come home, or the neighbours see ye coom in, and wonder what ye ar aboot sae lang, mischief will come oot of it.\u201d I promised, of course. We went upstairs. We fucked on the bed, but I would not get from between her thighs till I\u2019d done her a second time. Then with unwashed cunt she saw me to the door. I gave her a kiss, and departed.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I was not that way for some time afterwards, and then passed the cottage to try to see her, for I have always been pleased to see the woman who has given me pleasure up her. She was at the window, and bobbed away. I did this two or three times with the same result, and once thought of calling. It was as well I did not, for McCabe said her husband was at home ill. Then I had other and better fish to fry, and never had the \u201cgude\u00a0<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">woman\u201d afterwards, though she lived there for years. Once my old friend asked me to go to see if the repairs he allowed for were really done; but for some reason or other I did not.<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div title=\"Page 741\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I called on McCabe on one rent-day a month or two afterwards, forgetting she had none to pay till the ten pounds were worked off, and expecting to see her; but of course she did not appear. About nine months after (I think) I went there. In she came. \u201cHow d\u2019ye do?\u201d said I, \u201chave the repairs been done?\u201d \u201cThank ye, yes sir,\u201d she replied looking awfully confused. I went to the back of the old man, and from there began feeling my cock, and making signs with my tongue. It was so delightful to see the woman I had enjoyed; but I did not follow the intrigue up, and she gave no signs of encouragement. And here I must add a few reflections. Although I always have had a great dislike to stroking married women, regarding it as an improper, \u2014 perhaps the only improper path in fornication, as unfair to married men, and a social sin to be carefully avoided, \u2014 yet fate seems to have determined that I shall err in that direction. My second woman was a married one, though I did not know it till late, my first I had again after she was married, and I have had several since. Was it the fault of the women, or myself? \u2014 did they intend me to fuck them, or not? Certainly I never deliberately set to work to tempt them, but the lech when it took me seems to have overcome all my moral objections. Has the devil determined to tempt me in this direction? If so, am I to blame for not being gifted with control of myself and my cod-piece? In my re-cent illness I have thought much on this, \u2014 with what practical result, who can tell?<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">[The foregoing paragraph printed in the original words exactly, was not written until many years after the affairs with the Scotch woman. This one is written as I send the narrative to press.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">[It is useless for me to attempt to write the Scottish dialect, equally difficult is it to write the vulgar tongue of some of the women I have had, though I have written the characteristic remarks in our conversations.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">[Now occur events which took place during the time when I had one woman all to myself, but to whom I found it utterly impossible to be faithful sexually.]<\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/section><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/article><\/main><\/div><\/div><\/div><footer style=\"box-sizing: inherit; background-image: linear-gradient(to right, #191919, #191919), url('https:\/\/darklanternentertainment.b-cdn.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/1.My-Earliest-Recollections-of-Things-Sexual.jpg'); background-repeat: repeat; background-position: center center; background-size: auto; background-attachment: scroll;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; width: 1083px; background-image: linear-gradient(to right, #eeeeee, #eeeeee), url('https:\/\/darklanternentertainment.b-cdn.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/1.My-Earliest-Recollections-of-Things-Sexual-1.jpg'); background-repeat: repeat; background-position: center center; background-size: auto; background-attachment: scroll; min-height: 60px; color: #222222; font-family: Sancreek, sans-serif;\" data-section=\"section-above-footer-builder\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; grid-template-columns: repeat(2, 1fr); align-items: flex-start; max-width: 1200px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; align-items: flex-start;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; width: 516.5px;\" data-section=\"section-footer-menu\">\u00a0<\/div><\/div><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; align-items: flex-start;\">\u00a0<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; width: 1083px; background-image: linear-gradient(to right, #191919, #191919), url('https:\/\/darklanternentertainment.b-cdn.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/1.My-Earliest-Recollections-of-Things-Sexual-1.jpg'); background-repeat: repeat; background-position: center center; background-size: auto; background-attachment: scroll; color: #222222; font-family: Sancreek, sans-serif; background-color: #ffffff;\" data-section=\"section-primary-footer-builder\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; width: 1083px; margin-bottom: 10px;\" data-section=\"section-fb-html-1\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; text-align: center; color: #d3d3d3;\">\u00a0<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/footer>\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 4 CHAPTER 13 Many miscellaneous whorings. \u2022 Mr. McCabe. \u2022 The warehouse in the City \u2022 Tenants paying rent. \u2022 McCabe\u2019s jocosity. \u2022 Suggestions for getting bairns. \u2022 Mrs. ***. \u2022 The Scotch wife. \u2022 The four-roomed cottages. \u2022 Repairs needed. \u2022 At her cottage. \u2022 Easy conversation. \u2022 The steep staircase. \u2022 The &hellip;<\/p>\n<p class=\"read-more\"> <a class=\"\" href=\"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/?page_id=1517\"> <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Volume Four Chapter Thirteen<\/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-1517","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1517"}],"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=1517"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1517\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2395,"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1517\/revisions\/2395"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1517"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}