{"id":1529,"date":"2022-08-21T17:26:16","date_gmt":"2022-08-21T17:26:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/?page_id=1529"},"modified":"2022-09-13T18:20:57","modified_gmt":"2022-09-13T18:20:57","slug":"volume-four-chapter-nineteen","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/?page_id=1529","title":{"rendered":"Volume Four Chapter Nineteen"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t<div data-elementor-type=\"wp-page\" data-elementor-id=\"1529\" class=\"elementor elementor-1529\" 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-b15c979 elementor-section-boxed elementor-section-height-default elementor-section-height-default\" data-id=\"b15c979\" 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-a2e3652\" data-id=\"a2e3652\" 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-f773a60 elementor-widget elementor-widget-html\" data-id=\"f773a60\" 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\/0gPvXRN38sjiMgsA0cPoFq\" 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-529cd68\" data-id=\"529cd68\" 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-00f6074 elementor-widget elementor-widget-html\" data-id=\"00f6074\" 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\/6ltqumo4pudoxxGjOwNklD\" 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-6056f32 elementor-section-boxed elementor-section-height-default elementor-section-height-default\" data-id=\"6056f32\" 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-881ed25\" data-id=\"881ed25\" 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-49742b4 elementor-widget elementor-widget-text-editor\" data-id=\"49742b4\" 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=\"color: #651515; font-family: Georgia, sans-serif; text-align: center;\" title=\"Page 785\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\"><b>VOLUME 4 CHAPTER 19<\/b><\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\"><i>Clapped, and reflexions thereon. \u2022 Change in taste for condition of pudenda. \u2022 Change again. \u2022 Later on in life. \u2022 On bricks in a hail-shower. \u2022 An unknown quarter. \u2022 A little lady. \u2022 \u201cYou can\u2019t come home.\u201d \u2022 The bricks. \u2022 The hail-stone \u2022 A canny policeman \u2022 A servant for a change. \u2022 Sexual charms of servants. \u2022 Catherine. \u2022 A stumble on the stairs. \u2022 A well-timed visit. \u2022 Unchaste questions, and chaste replies \u2022 Preliminaries. \u2022 Con-summation. \u2022 Ugly stockings. \u2022 The dining-room table.<\/i><\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Then I again took the ladies\u2019 fever, and was again obliged to have recourse to surgical appliances to keep my urethra open. This suggested some serious re-flexions, and in a degree modified my habits with women in one particular.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I had delighted in a cunt with its natural juices in it, and disliked one recently washed. I could find out one when too clean, though I could not detect one which had been recently washed and rinsed with astringents as well. I did not know much about the chemical aids ladies used, though I had heard of such things, indeed had heard of most things, and have put into cunts which felt to me like a nutmeg grater, though I then did not know the cause. The extreme delicacy and sensitiveness of my prick- tip made me I expect discriminating, and susceptible of sexual pleasure in the highest degree; and I had found that it was greater in a cunt in its natural state of slimy lubricity. Hence my choice of that condition.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Now thinking it would give me greater immunity from clap, I became very careful in investigating, and insisted on the ample washing of every cunt before I took cock-exercise. I began to look at cunts carefully, even after washing, and before I would put into them; but either my gland had become less sensitive, or what is more likely looking at my age, that my lust was so strong and impetuous, that I did not after the washing mark the difference in the lubricity, excepting at times.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">About this time also, I cannot tell why, I became in-different to looking at the cunts, and especially at the overflow of what I had left in coition up those paphian chambers. I had even at times a dislike to looking, and would withdraw my prick from her into my hand, roll off the lady, and\u00a0<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">turn my head away from her quickly. All this was so entirely contrary to what had been my custom, that it is worth noting as illustrative of my character and taste in sexual matters, from time to time during my life.<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div style=\"color: #651515; font-family: Georgia, sans-serif; text-align: center;\" title=\"Page 786\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">[After some years my sensitiveness returned. I had really never lost it, and I reverted to my former taste in this particular of copulation. Lubrication, and even an excess of lubrication, of the right sort, became absolutely needful to my pleasure. I add this now before it goes to press, and many years after the foregoing was written.]<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">The next thing which happened to me and is worth telling, was quite early in spring. I was going home from a party just at midnight. At the junction of two streets I saw a very little woman, bidding a man good night, and kissing him in the street. It was done quite in a modest, affectionate way. I passed them. A few seconds afterwards I heard the feet of the lady coming quickly after me. She seemed to be pretty as she passed me by a street-lamp. She took no notice of me, but I hailed her, for I was lewed. \u201cMy dear I wish you would give me a kiss like the other man.\u201d She looked round and laughed, but walked on. I saw she was game. \u201cI\u2019ll give you a glass of wine for a kiss.\u201d \u201cHow much is that?\u201d said she. \u201cA shilling.\u201d \u201cGive it,\u201d said she stopping. \u201cThen you will let me have a feel,\u201d said I. \u201cYou want enough for a shilling,\u201d \u2014 and she went off quickly. \u201cStop, \u2014 don\u2019t run off, \u2014 half-a-crown.\u201d She laughed, hesitated, and then we turned down a side-street, and up against a wall I felt her cunt. I had to stoop to get at it, she was so short.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I was just in the mood for a woman, and enjoyed the feel. It was a tight little cunt, and a young one I knew from the small quantity of hair on it. I felt it for two or three minutes, whilst she remained quite quiet. \u201cI\u2019ll frig you,\u201d said I, \u201chere is the money.\u201d She took it. \u201cLet me feel your cock then,\u201d said she. So I turned half round, took her round the waist conveniently and began frigging, and she laid hold of my prick which had got quite stiff, and which I had just extruded from my trousers. \u201cI shall come soon,\u201d said she, \u201cdo it to me, \u2014 let\u2019s go to some house, and do me properly, \u2014 oho! leave off! \u2014 I shall spend, \u2014 let\u2019s go somewhere,\u201d \u2014 and she pushed my hand away. Just then came near to us a policeman. I dropped my great-coat over my cock, and let fall her petticoats. He must have known what we were about, but took no notice. \u201cA preciously cold night,\u201d said I to him. \u201cAye it is, sir.\u201d \u201cHere is a shilling for a glass when\u00a0<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">you\u2019re off duty.\u201d He thanked me, and was soon out of sight round the corner, never looking back.<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div style=\"color: #651515; font-family: Georgia, sans-serif; text-align: center;\" title=\"Page 787\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">It was a bitterly cold night, though not freezing. The wind was blowing a gale and dark clouds most of the time hid what moon there was; but it showed every two or three minutes for half a second, and then all was quite dark again. The streets were deserted, the public-houses closed. I began frigging her again, again she felt my prick unasked by me, again she suggested my having her. \u201cI don\u2019t want a poke,\u201d I said. \u201cand I\u2019ve no more money.\u201d \u201cNever mind the money, \u2014 let\u2019s fuck,\u201d said she randily. I began to want to put my prick up her, but didn\u2019t much like risking it, so I ceased frigging her, and with resolution drew my cock away from her fingers, for she was manipulating it very rapidly, and dropped my great- coat over my open trousers. \u201cWhy won\u2019t you?\u201d said she. It was all she said.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I walked on with her to a lamp-post, stopped under it, and looked well at her. She I then saw was very pretty, and I began to long for her. \u201cI\u2019ll go home with you, \u2014 is it far?\u201d \u201cOh! you can\u2019t go home with me.\u201d \u201cGo to a house then.\u201d \u201cI don\u2019t know one, I have only just come to live at this side of the water, \u2014 don\u2019t you know one?\u201d I was out of my beat, and did not know a house. The more I talked and looked at her, the more randy I got. \u201cI\u2019ll bet the man you kissed has been home with you.\u201d She laughed out. \u201cWell that\u2019s true enough, but he is my brother.\u201d It had struck me from the manner in which it was done, that it was not a fucking-friend she had kissed. Nearly close by where we were standing they were rebuilding the front garden-wall of an empty house. Bricks were stacked against it in the street, a heap of rubbish was close by the bricks. \u201cLet\u2019s fuck here,\u201d said I. We were both a little timid, but the place seemed deserted, so we tried. Her back was against the wall, but so short was she; that though I bent my knees, and she almost tiptoed, I could not get into her. My prick when I bent it down ran past her cunt towards her bum-furrow.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Then I moved her nearer to the empty house, pulled down three or four bricks from the edge of the stack, and placed others, so as to leave a good footing and level, and which stood her up six inches or so (a convenient height), and we fucked with much gratification. She was very randy, so was I, and we were soon in sexual ecstasy.<\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div style=\"color: #651515; font-family: Georgia, sans-serif; text-align: center;\" title=\"Page 788\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Whilst fucking, huge hail-stones, as big as filberts, began to fall. They rattled on my hat, hitting hard, and bounding off on to the pavement. Suddenly I felt a chill at the root of my prick-stem. \u201cOh!\u201d said I as we both felt its chill. A hail-stone had got between our bodies, and stopped us for an instant, but we both guessed what it was, and finished our pleasure. The hail-stone must have just lodged between her motte and my belly; it was chilly and melting, and still held in the mingled hair of our privates when I pulled my prick out of her. A hundred thousand people might have been fucking in the open that night, without such a thing happening to them. It amused both of us mightily. \u201cNobody would believe it if I told them,\u201d said she. \u201cNor if I do,\u201d said I, \u201cbut I shall tell some one.\u201d \u201cSo shall I,\u201d she remarked laughing. Still we talked together. She had been gay she said, but had been kept by a commercial traveller for a year \u2014 a good fellow. They had only just come to live up there. The landlady thought they were married. Of course she could not take me home, besides her friend might return. He was in the woollen trade, and was often away a week or ten days, she never knew when he might return. He knew her brother well. He had now been away ten days, and she hadn\u2019t been fucked for that time. She was lewed, and she wanted it, but if any body had told her half an hour ago, that she was going to do it with me, she would have said they were mad. She could not tell what made her let me feel her, it certainly was not for half a crown. My voice and manner was nice, and when I felt her it made her randy at once. She had never been felt in a public street before.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Just then the policeman came round again, took no notice of us, and passed out of sight. One solitary man passed us walking rapidly. I was getting cold standing, I kissed her. \u201cHere is another glass of wine,\u201d said I giving her another hall-crown (she had not asked me). \u201cThank you,\u201d said she, \u201cevery little is useful.\u201d I turned to go, and then turned back. \u201cI should like to do you again,\u201d said I. \u201cI\u2019m ready,\u201d said she, \u201ccome on, \u2014 let me piddle first, \u2014 you have made me so wet.\u201d \u201cNo don\u2019t do that.\u201d \u201cBut it\u2019s all running down my thighs.\u201d \u201cI like that.\u201d The idea stiffened me. She mounted on the bricks again, and we had another most lovely fuck, \u2014 she was at the exact height for me. \u201cYou\u2019ve enjoyed the fucking,\u201d I said. \u201cYes, I haven\u2019t had it for ten days.\u201d \u201cBut you have frigged yourself?\u201d \u201cNot once,\u201d she said, \u201cthough I sometimes do when my friend\u2019s away.\u201d<\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div style=\"color: #651515; font-family: Georgia, sans-serif; text-align: center;\" title=\"Page 789\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Again we talked of fucking. She seemed to like talking as much as I did. Her friend was a strong man, and did it as often to her as any woman could want. She would not give me her name or address, or say where I could meet her. She pissed, and with her hand washed her cunt with her piddle. It was possible her friend might be home when she returned, though not likely, she said. \u201cAren\u2019t you just a lewed man,\u201d said she as we kissed and parted. She would have let me do it again if I could. When we parted she ran off like mad, and I saw her no more. She was very nicely and quietly dressed in silk, and seemed a superior sort of person of her class. It was a most pleasing, most gratifying incident. Such accidental copulation I have always found most delicious, \u2014 and I have had scores.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Then I had had so many gay women, that I wanted a change in the class. I enjoyed their lubricity, their skilled embraces, their passionate fucking when they wanted it themselves, and liked me (I had had many such). Yet I was tired of their lies, tricks, and dissatisfied, money-grabbing, money-begging style. I wanted a change, and began to look out for a nice fresh servant. I have now had many servants in my time, and know no better companions in amorous amusements. They have rarely lost all modesty, a new lover is a treat and a fresh experience to them, even when they have had several, and few have had that. They only get the chance of copulating once a week or so, they are clean, well-fed, full- blooded, and when they come out to meet their friend, or give way with a chance man on the sly, are ready, yielding, hot-arsed, lewd, and lubricious. Their cunts throb at the first touch of a finger, and moisten, and they spend freely and copiously. No women\u2019s cunts are wetter, than a young healthy servant\u2019s is after the first fuck on her night out. No one will take more spunk out of a man, and give more herself than the lass who says, \u201cI couldn\u2019t get out before, \u2014 I\u2019m sorry you had to wait, \u2014 I must really get back by ten.\u201d How they kiss in silence, \u2014 how they feel the first lunge of the prick up them, \u2014 what pleasure they quietly show, \u2014 how they love you, and die as your hot spunk spurts, and their cunt liquidises. So I longed for a servant, and soon found my chance. I suppose all men do if they set their mind upon women, for there are thousands of cunts waiting to be fed, and ready to open to opportunity and male importunity.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">We were very friendly with a nice family, a widow with three daughters, living in quiet comfort at R*****. They only kept two servants. The\u00a0<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">parlour-maid was a well-grown wench about twenty-one years old, fleshy and round, dark-eyed, dark-haired, fresh-coloured and healthy-looking. She opened the street-door. She had not been there long before I tipped her a shilling occasionally, and one night kissed her at the street-door, which she took quietly. Next time I pinched her bum, she gave a suppressed squeal, and then my letch for her came on. As usual I had luck. Calling a day or two after, I made a smutty remark, and pinched her thigh outside her clothes. It was day-time, and risky.<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div style=\"color: #651515; font-family: Georgia, sans-serif; text-align: center;\" title=\"Page 790\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">She was flurried by it, but made no noise, and running upstairs to deliver my message to the lady in the drawing-room, her foot slipped on a loose stair-carpet, and she fell on her knees on the stairs, the carpet slipping with her, and a stair-rod rattling down. The calf of one of her legs was exposed by this nearly to her knee. This was at the bottom of the flight and close to where I was standing. I put my hand on her calf and pinched it. Recovering herself she shook her head at me, went upstairs, and came down with, \u201cWill you walk up, sir.\u201d Up I went, whispering as I neared her, \u201cI saw your thigh\u201d (which was a lie). She gave me such a look as she closed the drawing-room door. On leaving I said, \u201cI wish I had put my hand higher.\u201d She gave me a sulky look as she closed the street-door.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">To get at her I took to calling frequently on my friends, and often saw Catherine, and tipped and kissed her whenever she opened the door. If sure that no one was near, I whispered smutty double entendres to set her thinking about cock and cunt, and rubbed my belly up against hers when I caught and kissed her. At length I got her to take a walk with me one Sunday night. Then being near gardens, at a quiet place I put my hands up her clothes, felt her thighs, but missed her cunt. She ran off home, I after her, but without catching her, and thinking from her manner that I had made a muddle of it.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">A day after, I called at the house in the afternoon, a time the family would usually be out, taking some Devonshire cream with me as a present to the lady, but really as an excuse for calling. \u201cOut, \u2014 are they? \u2014 this must be kept in the cool, or it will soon turn sour.\u201d \u201cGive it me, sir,\u201d said Catherine. \u201cNo, I\u2019ll give it to the cook myself.\u201d \u201cShe\u2019s out,\u201d said Kit. Here was an unexpected chance.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cI\u2019ll write a line to Mrs. * * *,\u201d said I, stepping in, and I began a note. The girl waited. When I had written it, I asked if Miss Lucy (a daughter) was\u00a0<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">in a hurry to get married (she was engaged). Kitty didn\u2019t know. \u201cWhat do they marry for, Kitty?\u201d \u201cTo be husband and wife,\u201d said she. \u201cBut what do they go to bed together for.\u201d She didn\u2019t know. \u201cYes you do.\u201d \u201cOh! don\u2019t bother.\u201d I had begun kissing, and had got her to kiss me. \u201cThey kiss, Kit, like this, and feel each other all over, and then \u2014 what do they do then?\u201d \u201cI don\u2019t know. \u201cI\u2019ll tell you.\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t want to know.\u201d \u201cWell I won\u2019t tell, \u2014 sit down.\u201d I pulled her on to the sofa, for she had got familiar, \u2014 a woman soon does if you talk smut. We sat and chatted till my randiness made me reckless. \u201cI\u2019ll tell you what they do when they are married, and in bed.\u201d \u201cI won\u2019t hear.\u201d \u201cYou shall, \u2014 they fuck.\u201d I had her by the waist, and she could not escape me. She made a very slight attempt to do so, but I held her tightly whilst I let out my baudy talk.<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div style=\"color: #651515; font-family: Georgia, sans-serif; text-align: center;\" title=\"Page 791\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">What else I said exactly God only knows, but it was all about newly married couples. \u201cHe pulls up her night-gown, feels her cunt, rubs his prick against her thigh, puts it in her cunt, &amp;c.\u201d Kit kept saying, \u201cI won\u2019t hear, \u2014 I won\u2019t hear,\u201d put both hands up to her ears, but did not move away from me. I pulled out my prick red hot, \u201cThat\u2019s what he shoves up her cunt, \u2014 and oh! God, don\u2019t they have pleasure, \u2014 let\u2019s put this up your cunt, Kit.\u201d<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cNow don\u2019t,\u201d said she, starting up, but not moving away. I pulled her down to a sitting posture again, and with a dash got my hand up her clothes. She cried out, and put both hands down (they all do that) on to her thighs on my hand, wriggled to get away and for some minutes struggled, and cried. \u201cIt\u2019s a shame, \u2014 you shan\u2019t.\u201d \u201cLet\u2019s fuck.\u201d \u201cI won\u2019t now, \u2014 I won\u2019t, \u2014 oh! dear,\u201d \u2014 but I exhausted her. She was half sitting, half leaning on me with fingers pinched tightly between her thighs, so that I could not get a good feel of her cunt; but my forefinger was well between its lips and on her clitoris titillating, and making her randy. She seriously, now begging me to leave her alone, I swearing I would fuck her, give her pleasure, promising bonnets, clothes, money, and everything else, and uttering all the voluptuous words my imagination could muster.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Nature helped me. She could hear no longer the friction on her clitoris, her voice fell to a whining tone, she breathed short, \u201cOh! \u2014 do \u2014 now \u2014 leave off \u2014 do,\u201d she whined out in broken utterances. \u201cKiss me,\u201d said I, \u201cand I will.\u201d She put her mouth to me, and kissed me excitedly. I held her\u00a0<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">head to mine, shoved my tongue in her mouth and frigged harder. With a sigh and a sob, \u201cOh! I c \u2014 hant \u2014 b \u2014 hear it,\u201d her thighs opened. \u201cOh!\u201d she howled loudly and sharply as my finger slipped on to the prick-hole entrance. But now quite overcome with voluptuous sensations, she was nearly spending. I pressed her back on the sofa, pulling up her clothes. \u201cOh! don\u2019t,\u201d she said faintly. I pulled up her legs on to the sofa. \u201cOh! don\u2019t,\u201d but with excitement and lewedness she made no further resistance. I covered her rapidly, and with one strong lunge buried my prick up her, fucked her for a minute, and spouted a deluge of hot spunk into her cunt. Just as I finished I heard her sighs of pleasure, and felt her sympathetic bum-movements.<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div style=\"color: #651515; font-family: Georgia, sans-serif; text-align: center;\" title=\"Page 792\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Under the excitement of fresh cunt, I kept up Catherine a long time, laying on her, kissing, endearing, and enjoying her. At length it began to shrink, I put my fingers down to feel between our coupled genitals, and cunningly I looked at them to see if there were signs of a virginity, \u2014 there were none. \u201cLet me get up, \u2014 oh! do.\u201d I got off her quickly, she pulled her clothes down, and sat up, I by the side of her. Both were quite quiet, I quite surprised with the quickness and ease with which I had won her person.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cWasn\u2019t it nice? \u2014 didn\u2019t you like it?\u201d \u201cNo,\u201d said she, \u201cit was a shame,\u201d and she was going away, but I caught hold of her. \u201cLet\u2019s do it again.\u201d \u201cNo, no, \u2014 oh! let me go,\u201d she cried, but she let my hands go up her clothes. I felt the sperm all over her thighs, as I thrust my hand up between them. \u201cI must go,\u201d said she; but fiercely pushing her down without her struggling, I was soon up her, and again we fucked. She took my prick up her with the greatest pleasure. Thought I as I pulled out, she had had more than one prick there, I felt sure of that.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Nothing is so delicious as the intimacy established between man and woman by a fuck. When once he has moistened a woman\u2019s cunt with his sperm, they seem to have known each other for years. You may know a woman socially, closely; live under the same roof for years with her, know her habits, when she eats, drinks, sleeps, and piddles, and she may know as much about you; but if you are caught looking up her petticoats as she goes upstairs, there will be a row; and a hint about the make, shape, &amp;c., of any part of her body between her ankles and armpits, must not be referred to. You really know nothing about her that is vital, and\u00a0<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">you and she are virtually strangers. A quarter of an hour before I could not feel Kitty\u2019s knee without a struggle, now I lay smoothing her backside with my hands, wriggling my shrinking prick in her, talking soft baudiness, and she lay listening to it, kissing me in return, her arse as quiet as if it were a lump of lead.<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div style=\"color: #651515; font-family: Georgia, sans-serif; text-align: center;\" title=\"Page 793\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">There is an end of all things. \u201cOh! if the cook should come back,\u201d said she, \u201cshe\u2019s no business out, and won\u2019t be long.\u201d \u201cDamn the cook, \u2014 isn\u2019t feeling nice?\u201d \u201cYes, \u2014 but let me get up.\u201d \u201cFeel how my prick\u2019s in you, and I\u2019ll get off.\u201d She felt it. \u201cYou\u2019ve got black stockings,\u201d said I, noticing them for the first time, as I once did with Mabel years ago. \u201cYes, \u2014 don\u2019t you like them?\u201d \u201cNo.\u201d On the narrow sofa I could not lay by her side, so I dropped outwards, and off of her, but lewd still I put my hand on her cunt just as my prick came out of it. It was gruelly, but there was no blood. \u201cWash,\u201d said I. \u201cI\u2019m going,\u201d \u2014 and she left.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I wished to see her cunt when she had come back, I had not even had a glimpse of it. She let me feel it, still wet from the washing. I saw her thighs, her motte, but the crack she kept her thighs closed on. Then re- turning to the sofa, kissing, and feeling her cunt, the time passed. We talked about the family, but talked much more about fucking, that eternal subject, until I had twiddled her quim into a fever. Then tonguing her, \u201cLet\u2019s do it again,\u201d said I. \u201cLet me go and see to the kitchen-fire first,\u201d said she.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">This took place in the dining-room. She wasn\u2019t gone long. When she came up she was a little coy. \u201cNo not again,\u201d \u2014 as she stood with her bum against the dining-table, with my hands round her thighs. \u201cNo, no, the cook may come in at any moment.\u201d But I put my hands round her bum, and lifted her up with some effort suddenly on to the table. I have done so with other women. She fell back on it. I looked at her thighs, and in a jiffy my prick was into her. I saw the dear girl\u2019s face as she spent. \u201cYou will think of this as you lay the cloth for dinner,\u201d said I still holding her thighs over my arms, my prick still up her. The bell rang. \u201cOh! good gracious, it\u2019s cook.\u201d Out came my prick. \u201cOh! how do I look? \u2014 will she notice anything? \u2014 is my hair all right behind?\u201d She was all right, and down-stairs she ran to let the cook in.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I buttoned up, and directly almost rang the bell, and up she came. \u201cCook\u2019s not noticed anything,\u201d said she in a whisper. Then with the\u00a0<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">cream downstairs she went, and returned. I had a rapid feel, and went off, agreeing to meet her out on Sunday.<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div>\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 19 Clapped, and reflexions thereon. \u2022 Change in taste for condition of pudenda. \u2022 Change again. \u2022 Later on in life. \u2022 On bricks in a hail-shower. \u2022 An unknown quarter. \u2022 A little lady. \u2022 \u201cYou can\u2019t come home.\u201d \u2022 The bricks. \u2022 The hail-stone \u2022 A canny policeman \u2022 A &hellip;<\/p>\n<p class=\"read-more\"> <a class=\"\" href=\"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/?page_id=1529\"> <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Volume Four Chapter Nineteen<\/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-1529","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1529"}],"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=1529"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1529\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2445,"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1529\/revisions\/2445"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1529"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}