I listened at the door. "Lock the door Ess." "There's no key." "Stand there, and hold it,—I'm bursting." "Don't he go on!—make haste, or I'll pee myself." I pushed open the door suddenly, one was pushing her clothes against her quim to dry it, the other on the pot, she let a loud fart just as I opened the door. "Oh!" said she rising with difficulty. "I'll wait till the music is over," said I going out,—but I returned the next minute, and pulled out my prick again.  We upset chairs, we shreiked with laughter, it was Bedlam broke loose. I caught Matilda, and threw her on her back on the bed. "Leave off now,—pull him away Essie,—you're a going on too far,—oh! don't tickle,—oh! I can't bear tickling." But I kept on.
The tickling made her screech. I threw up her clothes, for she was still on her back on the bed, I didn't see her cunt, for I was between her legs, and bent over her, lifted her legs, and pressed hard down on her belly, her clothes on it which met mine, I gave a shove, having no thought of doing anything but lewd mimickry of the act of copulation, whilst Esther was tugging at my coat. Matilda shrieked, for my prick went up her cunt, and out again before I knew where it was,—another furious shriek.
"What's the matter?" said Esther, "what's he done?" "Oh!" sobbed Matilda, "where's my bonnet?—let's go,—I will go." "Stay,—be quiet." "I won't,—I will go." The waiter just then came into the room begging us not to make so much noise, as people were noticing it. Matilda crying and angry, Esther questioning, Matilda telling Esther to put on her things, or she would go without her, whilst there stood the French waiter and a chamber-maid, wondering what the row was all about,—if they had not heard, and did not guess it.
The girls were frightened, and I could not stop them. They had their things on, and were out of the house in a few minutes, I went down with them saying we would go to Vauxhall. The landlord stopped me. "Your bill sir." I paid it, and when I got out could see the two girls nowhere. I took a cab, drove here, there, and everywhere, but they were gone.
I came back towards the Haymarket, took the first woman I met, and went to a house in C... d. n Street. Half-an-hour afterwards I went with another; whilst with her I heard a merry-voiced woman in an adjoining room, and without seeing her took a fancy to her.  She knew nothing, so I waited door ajar, till I saw the woman leave, followed, and brought her back, fucked her, and had not enough money to pay for riding home.
The more I think of that adventure the more extraordinary it seems; from the time I threw Matilda on to the bed, till my prick had entered her cunt, and got out again, I don't believe it could have occupied more than a few seconds. She was heavy, I only just could lift her, and her petticoats seemed but half-way up. She laughed loudly as I did so, and when I leant over her with my prick out, I had not the remotest idea of broaching her, nor that my prick might touch even her thighs; but she must have been in the exact position, and her struggles brought her notch down to the level, and my prick by mere chance drove a little way up the hole; then her bum-wriggle threw me out instantly, and her yell frightened me. Whether she was a virgin or not, or whether I hurt her or not, I cannot say; could not even swear that my prick had entered her cunt, but it felt like it; and why did she yell, then sulk, and go away in a temper, if I had not somehow touched that slippery orifice?
Esther meets me.—Vauxhall.—Ex-harlot Sarah.—Esther succumbs.—Big-arsed and bandy-legged.—Periodic fucking.— Matilda invincible.—I part with Esther.—Her fortune.
I wrote to Esther, who met me in the lane, she was in her airs. I had quite forgotten myself she said, and had made them both drunk purposely,—it was not like a gentleman,—I had acted very improper; she would not recollect where my hand had been did not believe I had felt her thighs, she was tipsy. That was the line the cunning jade took in a dark lane.  "Well I won't." Then I said something suggestive, and she got cosy with me. "What was it you really did to Tilda?" "Nothing." "You did." "Ask her," "She won't tell me, and she will never speak with you again." Truthfully or not Esther declared she did not know what I had done to make her sister holler out so.
"I'll give you a bonnet, and we will go to Vauxhall,—don't let your sister know." I gave her the money, she agreed to meet me again, and did, and again asked me what I had done to her sister. I would tell some night when I slept with her. Then she would never know, for she would never be in bed with me, or any one else, till she was married.
I progressed in the usual way, praised her big bum, guessed she had fat thighs, etc. "You know I did feel them." No, she did not recollect. After talking thus one night my prick was in stiffish form, and I put her hand round it. She laid hold of it innocently, then snatched her hand away violently. Then I did the old, old trick, promised a pair of garters, if she would let me put them on,—in the dark of course. "No,—no." "So help me God, I won't do more than put them on." Two minutes after that my finger was on her split. This was all in the dark lane.
I wonder what a girl of that class thinks of, hopes, expects when she meets a gentleman on the sly.  I imagine that like the man, she is randy and wants to hear his baudy talk, to feel his lips on hers, to hug him, to feel his hand wandering about her hidden parts, that she meets him really for that purpose, just as much as he meets her for the purpose.
We went to Vauxhall, she told her mother she was going to the theatre with Sarah and her husband (the woman who had said the bigger it was the nicer it was), I was to take her to Sarah's when Vauxhall was over. I gave her a lobster and champagne supper, she got spoony, I talked baudy, she said it was abominable, this was all the Gardens. At length her modesty broke. "Don't you want to piddle?" "I really do bad," said she without hesitation. I took her to the ladies' place, and soon we left. There were nice little houses not far from Vauxhall. I had been in the afternoon, and paid for a room for the night to be sure of it, and took her there. She would not go in till I said it was only to have another glass of wine; but I believe she guessed what she was going in for. Then I persuaded her to stop all night, the woman of the house was to call us at six o'clock, so that she might get home early. She had made up her mind to consent, and had no sham about it.
 She was healthy, full-blooded, randy-arsed, and spent like fun; we did it several times before sleeping, then in the night, and awakened about eleven o'clock next day. "Oh! my God," said she, "what will mother say,—I'm ruined." "Well it's no use crying, you are in for it." A few tears, then a fuck, a piddle, a wash,—and then refreshed we go through the ceremony, of inspecting privates, and so fucking, looking, smelling, frigging, and finger-stinking we lay till devilish hungry. Then we got up, and after going to a chop-house and having food, I put her into a cab to go home.
On the bed spunk lay in all directions, and over her chemise as well, and there was the least smear of blood. I had pushed through something tight to get into her, but it was an easy business, so easy that I thought she had had cock before; but she was large cunted, the very jagged, ragged tear was full size; her cunt-hair was dark, her bum was one of the biggest for her height I have seen, it was out of proportion. Her privates did not fascinate me, and when I had had her two or three dozen times I grew tired of her. She was also bandy-legged, a thing I never could bear in a woman.
She went to Sarah's that day, and remained there, her mother sent to know why. Sarah said that Esther had had bowel attack after they came home from the theatre, and her mother then went to see her.  Her sister Matilda said she did not believe it.
Sarah I found had been gay, and said she now was married; they did not believe that, though they kept their disbelief to themselves, and only Esther knew she had been gay, although all knew she had run away from home. Sarah got her living by washing for Esther's mother. I heard some funny things about her afterwards.
  Taking hold of some linen, "Oh! my," she said, "look here, ain't they been a doing it!—-here is waste." There was spunk on the linen. I heard a good deal of choice washerwoman's talk from Esther afterwards, and found that it was not an unusual thing for laundresses to joke about the semen they found on the linen of their customers, and that if they found suspicious signs on the man's linen, to give the lady of the house a hint to look after her husband. Many a husband has I am sure been discovered to have had illicit pleasure, or to have the ladies' favor through the hints of an officious laundress.
I made Esther liberal presents, but didn't take her much to Vauxhall or theatres, although she was constantly asking me to do so. I had taken her to Vauxhall one night after I had first had her, and saw some one there whom I should have been sorry to have seen me with Esther. We went to the little snug, quiet accommodation house which had been the scene of the slaughter of her virginity, and there fucked; sometimes we walked instead of riding home, and when near the village, turning down a secluded street, or lane, I set her back up against a fence, and had her; then with her cunt buttered home she went alone. I took her once or twice to the theatre, and for fear of being seen had a box; but I could not afford those extravagances. Although not a bad-looking girl, and one who would stir up sensations in a man's ballocks when he looked at her, she was vulgar in appearance; and neither bonnets nor dress made any improvement in her,—she was a washerwoman all over.
After she was well acquainted with two or three baudy houses I grew tired of her, and quarrelled with her. One night I went to my mother's who was ill; and as I passed the end of the lane where Esther lived saw one or two young men and women larking. She and her sister sometimes came to the end of the lane when their work was done, to see the people going along the high-road, and to chat there with neighbours. The men were chivying the girls, and Esther was one of them. I watched them from a safe distance, heard laughing and screeching, and every now and then one of the girls chased by a man darted down the dark lane, and I heard a shriek. There was no light in the lane, and not much even in the high-road from the feeble oil-lamps. I thought also that I saw Esther kissed, she yelled and got away, but it seemed to me she much liked it. For some reason all the wenches suddenly disappeared, and the men, who were of the laboring class, leaned against the railings of the public-house, and talked. I walked slowly by them, and heard one say, "I felt her cunt the other night, so help me Gor." I did not know who he spoke of, but I made up my mind it was Esther.
I wrote Esther to meet me, and then told her she had let a man feel her cunt, and what I had seen and heard. She denied all cheekily, but got confused when I told her what the man said. "I was in the lane," said I afterwards, "and quite towards that end where I have felt you often,—I hid, and I know he was feeling you there." It was a bare-faced lie of mine, because I had gone away; but it was a hit. "He didn't," said she, "though he tried." "I heard him say you felt his prick," said I lying away again, "he went up the lane, and told that tall young man that, 'so help his God', you had." "He wanted to make me, but I didn't,—he is the greatest liar in the place. It was sneaking of you to be hiding like that, and watching me," said she.
 She slanged me, said I had deceived her, had said I would keep her, and lots of other things,—and off she went. I took no notice for a fortnight, then went to the lodgings of Sarah, and had a talk with her. Sarah said that Esther was mad with me for not writing nor going to see her, and blamed me for not "behaving handsome". "No other man has ever touched Esther," said she, "you don't seem to care about her,—but there's plenty who do,—there are two or three gents about who would be glad to be in your place."
I had her again, then had a desire to get into her sister, and tried several times to see Matilda, caught her standing with Esther in the lane once or twice, but she bolted off directly I went up to her. Once she opened the door to me at her cottage, and slammed it in my face. I had not told Esther what had made Matilda cry out till that day, and then I did.  "She might tell her sister," and she did.  Esther believed her sister. Matilda was going to be married to the potman at the public-house close by, I then heard.
After that Esther met me a few times, and her sister seemed much on her mind; for she unvariably after she had felt my prick for a minute would say, "And you mean to tell me it went right into Tilda?" "Yes right in." "Oh! what a story,—it could not have been." I grew tired of her, and she of me,—probably some other man had taken a fancy to her, so I gave her ten pounds one night, told her I was going abroad, and would see her on my return, but I never did. I saw her near my mother's house two years afterwards with quite a genteel well-dressed young man, she looking nice and fresh, but very vulgar. She saw me. Her eyes had a painful expression in them, partly like fear, partly as if she were going to cry; and then she dropped them. They passed me, I of course not taking the slightest notice, but had a cock-stand, and felt jealous, —such a funny thing is male nature. I never saw her afterwards, but saw Sarah the washerwoman and ex-harlot, and gave her five shillings for a chat about the two girls. Esther had gone off with a gent, Matilda had married the potman, who had taken to drink, and used to "whop her." And that is the end of my acquaintance with the two girls.
I had great difficulty in keeping Esther from knowing too much about me, and used a false name, had letters sent to a post-office, and had to do much lying. The oddest thing was that though so near my mother's house, and though I passed her one day when walking with one of my married sisters, she did not know I was often living there, and close by her home; but she found it out just before I parted with her. She knew quite well that the conversation when sitting on the barrow could only have been heard from one of the garden-walls close by the barrow; but I would not at first tell her which. My real name I don't think she ever knew, though I am not sure of that..

Preliminary.—My taste for beauty of form.—Sarah Mavis.— Midday in the Quadrant.—No. 13 J... s Street.—A bargain in the hall.—A woman with a will.—Fears about my size.— Muck.—Cold-blooded.—Tyranny.—My temper.—Submission.—A revolt.—A half-gay lady.—Sarah watches me.—A quarrel.— Reconciliation.
I must go back a year or more before the night when I last had Kitty with the yellow hair and yellow motte, to tell the story of my acquaintance with a woman of whom I have little to tell, considering that she more or less is included in the history of my amours for nearly four years, and who will appear more than once some years after that. A word about my sensuous temperament first.
I had early a taste for beauty of female form. Face had for me of course the usual attraction, for beauty of expression always speaks to the soul of a man first.
All these feelings can be seen in a woman's eyes alone, for they express and move with every feeling, every passion, pure or sensual. They can beget in the male pure love as it is called, which is believed to be so till experience teaches that however pure it may be, it cannot exist without the occasional help of a burning throbbing, stiff prick, up a hot, wide-stretched cunt, and a simultaneous discharge of spermatic juices from both organs. The rest of a woman's body, the breasts and limbs, can move lust unaccompanied by love, and if once admiration of them begins lust follows instantly.  Form is in fact to most, more enticing, and creates a more enduring attachment in men of mature years, than the sweetest face.  Few men, unless their bellies be very big, or they be very old, will keep long to a bony lady whose skinny buttocks can be held in one hand. I early had a taste for female form, it was born with me. Even when a boy I selected partners for dancing because they were what I called crummy, and admired even at one time a fat-arsed middle-aged woman who sold us bull's eyes, because I had caught her exhibiting large legs when squatting down to piss. For years I had had at the period named, two friends, one of whom was a sculptor, who alas! drank himself to death; and one a painter still living as I write this. I had been in their studios, seen their naked models, heard their opinions on both male and female beauty, and had the various points of female perfection shown me on the lady-sitters. I had them explained in two instances by the ladies themselves, in private sittings, and with them I had sexual pleasures which they said the artists had neither got out of them nor given them. I had myself sketched from the nude, and was thought a not bad hand at it, and had therefore by training, instinct, and a most voluptuous temperament become a good judge of beauty of female form.
I did not write the above paragraphs, when I wrote what follows about Sarah Mavis, they are added now many years afterwards, when I am wondering at what I did in those early days, marvelling at my judgment in selection, and seeking the reasons which guided me then in getting for my sexual embraces, as many modes of female beauty of form, as perhaps any one Englishman ever had,—short of a prince.
One Summer's morning about midday, I was in the Quadrant. It had been raining, and the streets were dirty.  She was holding her petticoats well up out of the dirt, the common habit of even respectable women then.  I saw a pair of feet in lovely boots which seemed perfection, and calves which were exquisite. I fired directly. Just by Beak Street she stopped, and looked into a shop. "Is she gay?" I thought. "No." I followed on, passed her, then turned round, and met her eye. She looked at me, but the look was so steady, indifferent, and with so little of the gay woman in her expression, that I could not make up my mind as to whether she was accessible or not.
She turned back and went on without looking round. Crossing Tichborne Street she raised her petticoats higher, it was very muddy there. I then saw more of both legs, my prick stood at the sight of her limbs, and settled me. I followed quickly, saying as I came close, "Will you come with me?" She made no reply, and I fell behind. Soon she stopped again at a shop, and looked in, and again I said, "May I go with you?" "Yes,—where to?" "Where you like,—-I will follow you." Without replying a word, and without looking at me, without hurrying, she walked steadily on till she entered the house No. 13 J...s Street, which I entered that day for the first time, but many hundreds of times since. Her composure, and the way she stopped from time to time to look at the shops as she went along astonished me: she seemed in no hurry, nor indeed conscious that I was close at her heels, though she knew it.
Inside the house she stopped at the foot of the staircase, and turning round said in a low tone, "What are you going to give me?" "Ten shillings." "I won't go upstairs then, so tell you at once." "What do you want?" "I won't let any one come with me unless they give me a sovereign at least." "I will give you that." Then she mounted, nothing more being said. Asking me the question at the foot of the stairs astonished me, I had been asked it in a room often before, and in the street; but at the foot of a staircase,—never.
We entered a handsome bed-room. Turning round after paying for it, and locking the door, I saw her standing with her back to the light (the curtains were down, but the room was nevertheless light), one arm resting on the mantle-piece. She looked at me fixedly, and I did at her.  Then desire impelled; I went close to her, and began to lift her clothes. She pushed them down in a commanding way saying, "Now none of that."
"Oh! here is your money," said I gutting down a sovereign on the mantle-piece. She broke into a quiet laugh. "I did not mean that," she remarked. "Let me feel you." "Get away," said she impatiently, and turning she took off her bonnet. I then saw she had thick and nearly if not quite black hair, and recollect that I noticed these points just in the order I have narrated them. Then she leaned her arm on the mantle-piece again, and looked at me quietly, her mouth slightly open, and I stood looking at her without speaking, my sperm fermenting in my balls; but I was slightly bothered, almost intimidated by her cold manner,—-a manner so unlike what I usually met with in strumpets.
"You have beautiful legs." "So they say." "Let me see them." She laid down on the sofa, her back to the light, without uttering a word. I threw off coat and waistcoat, and sitting at the foot of the sofa threw up her dress to her knees; higher I tried, but she resisted. Then my fingers felt her cunt, and the delight of the feel and sight of her beautiful limbs overwhelmed me. "Take off your things,—let me see you undressed,—you must be exquisite." My hands roved all about her bum, belly and thighs, and just seeing the flesh above her garters I fell to kissing it, and kissed upwards till the aroma of her cunt met my nostrils, and its thicket met my lips and mingled with my moustache, which I then wore, though so few men then did. I fell on my knees by the side of her, kissing, feeling, and smelling; but she kept her thighs close together, and pushed her petticoats over my head whilst I kissed, so that I saw but little of her beauties.
Then excited almost to madness by my amusement I rose up. "Oh! come to the bed,—come." She lay quite still. "No,—do it here,—leave me alone,—I won't have my clothes pulled up,—I won't be pulled about,—if you want it have me, and have done." "Well get on to the bed." "I shan't." "I can't do it on the sofa." "Well I'm going then." "You shan't till I have had you,—only let me see your thighs." "There then,"—and up went her clothes half-way. "Higher," "I shan't." Now my prick was out. "Get on the bed,—I won't do it here,—take your things off." "I shan't." "You shall." All was said by her in a determined way, but without signs of temper.
She rose without saying another word, I think I see now as I write, her exquisite legs in beautiful silk stockings as they showed when getting off the sofa, and getting on to the bed. "But I want your clothes off." "I won't take them off, I'm in a hurry,—I never do." "Oh! you must." "I won't,—now come and do what you want to do,—I'm in a hurry." She lifted her clothes just high enough to show the fringe of her cunt, and opened her thighs a little. I thrilled with lewd delight as I saw them, and mounted her, laid between them, and inserted my prick. Ah! at my first shove almost I was spending in her.
 "No,—get off, and let me wash." I resisted, but she uncunted me, and got off the bed quickly. "Now don't come near while I wash,—I can't bear a man looking at me washing myself." I insisted, for I was longing to see the form I had scarcely yet had a glimpse of. Putting down the basin she pulled the bed-curtains round her to hide her whilst she slopped her quim. I would not be rude, and saw nothing. Then on went her bonnet. "Are you going first, or I?" said she. "I shall wait as long as you will." "Then I will go first,"—and she was going away when I stopped her.
"When will you again meet me?" "Oh! when out at all, I am up to one o'clock in Regent Street." "Where do you live?" "I shan't say,—good bye." "No,—wait,—come to me this afternoon." "I can't." "This evening." She hesitated. "I can't stay long if I do." "Well an hour and a half." "Perhaps."  "No,—good bye, I am in a hurry." "Meet me at seven o'clock to-night.—do." "No." "At eight then." "Well I will be here expecting you,—but I shan't stop long." "Will you let me see your form up to your waist?" "Oh!
I dined at my Club, and was in a fever of lust all day. "Will she come?" for she had only half promised. Half-an-hour before the time I was at the house, and had the same room again. It was handsome throughout, had a big four-post bed with handsome hangings (this was thirty years ago mind) on one side of the room on another side by a partition was a wash-hand stand of marble, against the wall on the opposite side a large glass just at the level of the bed; at the foot of the bed a large sofa opposite to the fire; over the chimney-piece a big glass sloping forwards, so that those sitting or lying on the sofa could see themselves reflected in it; in the angle of the room by the windows a big cheval-glass which could be turned in any direction, two easy-chairs and a bidet, the hangings were of red damask, two large gas-burners were over the chimney-piece angles. It was the most compact, comfortable baudy house bed-room I have perhaps ever been in, although by no means a large room. They charged seven and six for its use, and twenty shillings for the night. Scores of times I have paid both fees. I noticed all this, and that a couple could see their amatory amusements on the bed, on the sofa, or anyhow in fact, by aid of the cheval and other glasses. I was delighted with the room, but in a fever of anxiety lest the lady should not come. I walked about with my prick out, seeing how I looked in the glasses, laid on the bed, and noticed how it looked in the side-glass, squatted on the sofa, glorying in the sight of my balls and stiff-stander. Then I had a sudden fear that she would think my prick small; what put it into my head I never could exactly say, I used when at school to fancy mine was smaller than that of other boys, and some remark of a gay woman about its size made me most sensitive on the topic. I was constantly asking the women if my prick was not smaller than other men's. When they said it was a very good size,—as big as most,—I did not believe them, and I used when I pulled it out, to say in an apologetic tone, "Let's put it up, there's not much of it." "Oh! it's quite big enough," one would say. "I've seen plenty smaller," would say another. But still the idea clung to me, that it was not a prick to be in any way proud of,—which was a great error. But I have told of this weakness more than once before, I think.
I recollect well that night fearing she would think my prick contemptible, and it pained me much, for I was hooked, although I did not know it. I brushed my hair, and made myself inviting with a desire to please her, without thinking that I was taking the trouble to do so for a woman who was going to be fucked for twenty shillings, and whom I now know did not then care how I looked, or who I was, long as she got her money as soon as she could, and got rid of me to make way for another man, or to go and spend what she had earned.
She did not keep her time. I kept listening, and peeping out as I heard footsteps and saw couples bent on sexual pleasure going up the stairs, and heard them overhead walking about. This and the excitement at the recollection of my instantaneous spend between her magnificent thighs, my pulling about my prick and contemplating it in the glass, the moving about of the various couples made me in such a state of randiness that I could scarcely keep from frigging. A servant who had noticed my peeping came in, and begged I would not look out, for customers did not like it. Did they know where my lady lived? and would they send for her? They did not. Then the servant came to say I had been an hour in the room,—did I mean to wait any longer? I knew what that meant, and was about to say I would pay for the room twice, when I heard a heavy, slow tread, and the lady's face appeared.
I grumbled at her delay, she took my complaints quietly, she could not come earlier, was all she said.   She tried the same game,—she would not be pulled about,—she would not let her cunt be looked at,—if I meant to do it, do it, and have done with it. My blood rose. "I'd be damned if I would,—nor pay, nor anything else unless she took her gown off. So she took it off laughing, and laid down on the sofa. Not on the bed. No she would not. Then damned if I would do it (though I was nearly bursting). Again she laughed, and then got on to the bed. I saw breasts of spotless purity, and exquisite shape, bursting out over the corset, threw up the petticoats, saw the dark hair at the bottom of the belly, and the next instant a thrust, a moment's heaving,—quietness,—another thrust,—a sigh,—a gush of sperm,—and again I had finished with but a minute's complete sexual enjoyment only.
"Get up." "I won't" "Let me wash the muck out." "No."—and I pinned her down, squeezed to her belly, grasped her haunches. "I've not done spending." "Yes you have." A wriggle and a jerk, and I was uncunted and swearing.  She tried to rise, and pushed me,—I pushed her. She tilted on one side, her bum caught the edge of the basin, and upset the water.
"Damn you," said she,—then she laughed and got up. I pushed her against the side of the bed, and again got my fingers on the cunt,—slippery enough it was. "You're one of those beasts, are you?" said she.
 "Well let me wash it, and you shall."
"You are not in a hurry." "Yes I am." "You said you would give me an hour and a half." "Yes, but you have done me, and what is the good of keeping me?" "I mean to do it again." "Double journey double pay." "Nonsense,—you so excited me, that I've never had a proper poke yet." "Well that is no fault of mine." She laughed, and turned questioner. "Do you often have the women from Regent Street?" "Yes." "Do you know many?" "Yes, I vary so." "Ah! you are fond of change,—I thought so,"—and she got talkative after that. I had thought her almost a dummy.
Meanwhile I was gloating over her charms, her beautiful arms, the lovely breasts I now played with, the lovely limbs I saw, for she had sat down in the most enticing position with the ankle of one foot resting on the knee of the other leg. I wanted to pull the clothes higher up the thighs, she resisted, but I saw the beautiful ankles, the tiny boots and feet, the creamy flesh of the thigh just above the garter, thighs thickening, folding over, squeezing together, and hiding her cunt from view when I tried to look up.
I had hid my prick, the fear had come over me of her thinking it small, and that prevented it standing again. An hour ran away. "I'm going," said she rising. My prick stood at the instant. "Let me." "Make haste then." As she stood up I put my hand up her petticoats. She put her hand down, and gave my prick a hard squeeze. I hollowed,—she laughed.
"I've a good mind not to let you,—you've been so long,—but you may do it." She got on to the bedside. "Oh! for God's sake don't move,—that attitude is exquisite." One leg was well on the bed, the petticoats were squeezed up, and the leg on the ground from the boot-heel to about four inches above her garter was visible. She was half turning round, her lovely breasts, or rather one of them showed half-front, and with her head looking round at me as she was moving, it altogether made a ravishingly luscious picture. I put my hands up from behind between her thighs. That broke the spell, she moved on to the bed directly,—I on to her.
"Oh! God you are heavenly, lovely,—oh! God my darling,—oh!" I was spending and kissing her too quickly again; lust almost deprived me of my pleasure. In a dozen shoves I was empty. It was all over.
"How quietly you stood in that attitude," said I. "I can stand in an attitude nearly five minutes without moving, almost without showing that I am breathing, without winking an eye." I thought nothing of this at the time, excepting that it was brag.
"Give me five shillings, for I have been a long time with you,—I've a reason,—I won't ask you again." I gave it her. "Shall you be in Regent Street to-morrow morning?" "Yes."
I was in Regent Street, met her, and had her you may be sure, and repeated these meetings for a week daily, and sometimes twice a day; but got no more than the shortest time with her, the quickest fuck, a rapid uncunting.  I submitted to it, for I was caught, but did not know that then,—she did. That is she knew that I was damnably lewd upon her, and used that knowledge to suit her convenience. I had no right to grumble at it. I need not have had her, had I not liked upon those terms. But I did. At length I grumbled, and at last almost had a quarrel. "I won't see you again," said I. "No one asks you," said she.
As my means were not large, and my purse grew rather empty, I was glad to keep away a few days. Then again I saw her in Regent Street; and after giving her the wink followed her. She walked on, but instead of going to the house, passed the end of the street. On she went, I went close to her, it was the second time I had spoken to her in the street. "Oh! I did not understand you," she said, "besides I'm in a hurry." "Oh! do come." "Well I can't stop five minutes." "Nonsense." "Well then I can't,"—and she went on walking. My prick got the better of my temper. "Well come back." She turned round, and bent her way to J...s Street, saying, "Don't let us go in together."
When in the house she got on to the bed without a moment's delay. I had her, and she was out of the house again in less than ten minutes, leaving me in a very angry state of mind; but she promised to meet me the following night if she could, and to stay longer with me.
She came an hour late, and found me fretting and fuming in the bed-room. They did not hurry me now at that house, I being already known there, and gave me whenever they could the same chamber. "I'm in a great hurry," were the first words Sarah said.  "Yes,—I am sorry, but I can't." "You never can,—but take off your gown." "I really can't,—have me at the side of the bed,—you wanted it so the other day." "No I won't." "Then I'll get on the bed,"—and on she got.
I tried to open her legs, to turn her round to see her bum (I had never seen it yet properly). No she would not undress, she would do nothing,—I might have it her way, or leave it alone and go. How green it was to submit to all this.
 "I won't have you at all," said I getting resolute at last. "All right," said she getting off the bed, "I'm really in a hurry,—another night I will." "Another night be damned—you are nearly a bilk,—there,"—and I threw the sovereign on a table, and put on my hat. "Are you going?" "Yes, I'm going to get some woman who is not ashamed of her cunt." "Go along then." Off I went. When halfway down the stairs I heard her calling to me to come back, but savage I went off.
I walked up Regent Street savage with her, and with myself too, for not having had my fuck, even if she had gone away a minute afterwards. Randy as the devil I saw a woman at the corner of the Circus, and accosted her, she turned away, I accosted her again. "Will you come with me?" "Yes if you like." "Do you know a house about here?" "No I'm a stranger." Then I took her to J... s Street, had her two or three times and toyed with her a long time, stopping till she would stop no longer, saying she should be locked out if she was not off.  I had just offered myself in time. She was a biggish woman of about thirty years of age.
I thought much of my fine-limbed Sarah Mavis, but it was with anger.  If I had the same woman again another day, it was because I liked her and liked to talk to her, for I always found them more complaisant the longer I knew them. But here had I been having a woman daily, and sometimes twice a day, mainly because she was so exquisite in form (for I had some idea even then that her cunt was not a good fit to my prick;) yet I had never seen her cunt; nor her backside, nor her bubbies, nor her arm-pits,' nor her navel, nor anything properly, and so I determined not to have her again, and to dismiss her from my mind. But I was hooked.
To economize I again went with cheap women, and seemed to get just as nice women for ten shillings as I did for twenty; but I had taken a liking for the house in J...s Street, which was an expensive one, and liked the best room, and took my cheap women to my dear room. One woman said, "Well you might give me a little more, and have a cheaper room,—the room gets nearly as much as you give me." And I saw a woman there one night pocket the comb, and a piece of soap,—she stole them. I heard in pleasant conversation afterwards, that soap and combs were often stolen by women,—especially soap.
About a fortnight afterwards I saw my Venus again, and again was closetted with her.  She was just as calm, but there was a little, quiet spite about her. When she had taken off her bonnet, and looked at me for a minute with her mouth open as usual, she said, "I suppose you have been having other women." I can't tell why it was, but I lied, and said "no." "What did you go upstairs with one for?" said she, "the night after you left me,—I was in the parlour, and peeping through the door saw you and the woman who stumbled at the foot of the stairs" (which was the fact). "Well I did," I replied, "and saw her cunt,—and that's more than I ever saw of yours." "You've seen as much as you will." Putting on my hat in rage, "Then I may as well go,—here is your money,"—and I turned towards the door.  She was angry. "Don't be in a hurry, and let's see your precious cunt." I recollect saying that very distinctly, being angry,—and that up to that time I had been chaste in my remarks. I was at that time of my life not at all lewd or strong in word with women when we first met, but was somewhat less so so soon as I warmed, and only when randy to the highest degree or by fits and starts, spiced my conversation highly with lewd expressions.
Sarah's complaisance.—Mistress Hannah.—About Sarah.— Sexual indifference.—After dinner.—Stark naked at last.— Her form.—The scar.—Hannah's friendship.—The baudy house parlour.—The Guardsman.—Sarah's greed.—A change in her manner.—A miscarriage.—Going abroad.—I am madly in love.—Sarah's history.
She laughed. "Well I will,—but don't make me undress,—I'm in a hurry." "Of course,—you always are." She laid on the sofa, and pulled up her clothes,—she was yielding. "No,—come here." She came, and laid on the side of the bed. At length I saw those glorious thighs open wider, the dark-shaded crack with the swelling lips showed itself more freely than I had ever seen it before.  I know nothing more excepting that I was up her as she laid there, and spending as quickly as ever, before I had in fact well plugged her. "Are you satisfied?"  "No, it's so quick,—you fetch me so quickly." "That is no fault of mine." She had said so often before. I recollect all these apparently trivial, these various feelings and circumstances, as well as if it were yesterday, for she had made her mark on me.
I had partly conquered, and saw my victory. "I like seeing you so," said I, "but won't see you, or any other woman who won't let me see her charms, and who is always in such a hurry,—it would be all very well if I saw you for the first time—(why you have a new black silk dress on." "Yes, I bought it with your money," said she),—"but for a regular friend as I am, it is unsupportable." I conquered more, and subsequently, told her that I might be in Regent Street one day, but I did not go there (I had made no promise). She said she went out against her will to see me,—could I write to say when she was to meet me? No,—but I could write to the baudy house, and they would send on the letter. I called there one morning, and left a letter. The Mistress was a shortish sandy-haired woman about thirty years old, with a white face; she looked very fixedly at me, and smiled. She would send on the letter to Miss Sarah Mavis which I found was the name she went by; but Sarah never came to my letter, and I paid for the room for nothing. Then I sent for the Mistress; had a bottle of champagne with her, and she opened her heart a little, she was soon a little screwed, and this was what she told me. Her name was Hannah.
She had not known Miss Mavis long,—only a month or so before she had come in with me,—did not often see her now excepting with me. Mavis had been asking if I had been seen in the house with any other woman, "and of course I did not tell her," said Sandyhead. She thought her a nice woman, and had struck up acquaintance with her. Now she often came into the parlour to chat with her when I had left, or before she came upstairs to me, when I was at the house before my appointed time.
Things went on thus for a little time longer, Sarah doing much as she liked, but certainly becoming more complaisant. She stopped longer, we began to talk; I was of course curious about her, she about me, I dare say she got much out of me, I but little out of her. What I mainly learned was that she only came on the streets occasionally, and from about eleven to one o'clock in the day,—never afterwards; and when she had sufficient money to "go on with," as she said, she came not out at all.  "It pleases us," said I, "we admire you so." "Well it does not please me,—I want them to do what they have to do, and let me go."  "No, I get my money in the morning, and have other things to do the rest of the day."
She had not been gay long,—not more than a month before I had met her,—was taken to the house in J... s Street by the first man who met her in the streets, and had been there often since. No she never had been gay before, she would swear, and often wished she were dead rather than have to come out, and let men pull her about, and put their nasty muck into her,—"nasty muck" was always the pleasant way in which she spoke of a man's sperm.
"One would think you never cared about a poke,—I wonder how often you spend." "Oh! it's all the same to me whether I have it, or whether I don't,—if I do it once a fortnight it's as much as I care about,—you beasts of men seem to think of nothing else, and you leave us poor women all the trouble that comes from putting your muck into us." "What the devil do you care about?" said I after a chat with her one day, in which she had just said what I have narrated. "Oh! I don't care about anything much."
Another day she said, "I like a nice dinner, and then a read in an arm-chair, till I go to sleep, or a nice bit of supper, and to get into bed,—I'm so tired of a night, I like to get to bed early if I can." We went on talking about eating and drinking; she told me what she liked, and what she disliked with much gusto and earnestness. "I'll give you a good dinner", said I, "and we will come here afterwards." "Will you?" "Yes,—but I won't unless I have you three hours here." "Impossible,—I dare not be out after half-past ten." "Come early." "I can't come very early, for I must be home in the afternoon." There were all sorts of obstacles,—so many that I gave it up, not going to be humbugged. But she would not give it up, and it was arranged that if she might name the evening, she would be with me at six o'clock, and stay with me till ten,—an immense concession,—it was the dinner that did it. I saw she was fond of her stomach, and that made me offer the dinner as a bait.
She would not come in after me to the restaurant, I was to meet her at the corner of St. Martin's lane in a cab, and go with her,—and so it came off. We went to the Cafe de P..v...e in Leicester square, I had already ordered a private room, and a nice dinner. My God how she enjoyed it! "It's a long time since I've had such a good dinner", said she, "but never mind, better times are coming again for me, I feel sure." She ate largely, she drank well, and to my astonishment when I got up to kiss her, she kissed me in return, and gave my piercer the slightest possible pinch outside my trowsers. "Let's feel you," said I. Equally astonished was I when she said, "Bolt the door, the waiter may be in,"—and then I had a grope, and she felt my prick. "Let's go—let's go,—I am dying for you." Off we went arm in arm. Directly we were well away from the Cafe she let go my arm. "You go first, and I will follow." I thought she was going to cheat me. "I dare not be seen walking arm in arm with a man,—but I will follow." In five minutes we were in the room together. Sarah Mavis was just in the slightest degree elevated, and perhaps more than slightly lewd.
To pull off my things, to help her off with hers partially was the work of a minute. "I must piddle first,—champagne always makes me want to piddle so." "Does it make you randy?" "Oh! Lord it does sometimes; but it's such a time since I tasted it before tonight, I almost forget." "Are you so now?" "Oh! I don't know,—come on the bed," said she. She opened her thighs wide, she let me grope and smell, and kiss, and see. "Come on,—do." Instinct told me she wanted it, I embraced her, and was enjoying her, when she clasped me firmly, sought my mouth. "Oh! my darling, I'm co—-com—h—hing," said she spending as she cried out, and fetched me at the same instant. It was the first time she had ever spent with me.
 She was in no hurry to wash out the muck. "Oh! I'm chocking," said she after a time, "get off." "I won't." "Oh! do,—my stays choke me when I lie down after food,—I'm almost suffocated." I held fast.  "Yes,—yes I will."  "Let me wash now."  She laughed, and fell back; then for a few minutes we kissed and toyed.
In a minute or two Sarah sprang up, and rushed to the basin. I lay still, contemplating her, and saying I would not wash my prick for a week, so that I might retain in the roots and its moistened fringe our mixed juices, the remnants of our first spend together. When she had washed she laid down by the side of me. "Let's have a nap," said she. The wine seemed to be getting into her head more and more, though she was but in the slightest degree fuddled.
I could not sleep. The sight of her breasts relieved from her stays, the free manner in which she let her petticoats lay half up her thighs, the delight at finding her take pleasure in my embraces, exulted me beyond measure. I joked and tickled her. "Let's see you naked." "You shan't."  She was yielding, took petticoats off, but would do no more. I had seen more than any other man, and she would do no more, she said. The wine had evaporated, and she was herself again, quiet, composed.
Maddened with desire. "I'll give you a sovereign," I said, "to take the chemise off." "Will you!" "Yes." "No I won't." "I'll give you two." "What can you want to see more for?" "Hang it, take the money, and let me, or I'll rip it off without paying." I closed with her, and struggled, pulled the chemise up above her haunches, pulled it down below her breasts, tore it. "Now don't,—I won't have it," said she getting angry, "it won't please you if I do,—you will not like to see me half as well afterwards, I tell you." "Yes I shall,—here is the money,—now let me see you naked, I'll give you three sovereigns."
She pushed me away, and sat down. "Where is the money?" said she. I gave it her.  "Never mind,—show it." Slowly she dropped the chemise, and stood in all her naked beauty, and pointing to a scar just below her breasts, and about four inches above her navel, "There," said she, "is it not ugly?—does it not spoil me!—how I hate it!"
I told her no,—that she was so beautiful, that it mattered not. Yet ugly it was.  It was the only defect on one of the most perfect and beautiful forms that God ever had created.
"There," said she covering it up, "you won't want me naked again,—now I dare say you don't like me as much." Yes I did. "Do you?" "Yes." She came and kissed me. I often had her as naked as she was born afterwards.
"What is the time?" "Ten o'clock." "I must go." "Another poke." "Make haste then." We had it. "Oh! now don't keep me,—if I'm not home by half-past ten I shall be half murdered." She had let expressions like that drop more than once; but I got no explanation excepting that she lived with her father and mother,—and at that time I believed it.
At the next meeting she had her old quiet manner, her old "keep your distance" was attempted; but it was impossible. A woman must always give again what she has once given, she cannot help it. Then came more dinners, but she was more cautious now in what she ate and drank, less reckless in her embraces of me; but we were closer acquaintances than we had been; she let me pull her about more freely and as a matter of course, washed her quim without hiding herself for that operation, and so on,—yet still she held me at a great distance, and was reserved. She conquered me, in a degree.
 I grumbled, said I would see more complaisant women. "Well I might if I liked,"—but I did not.  Yet I saw her almost exclusively for three years, and when she gave herself up to pleasure with me, my delight was unbounded; when she let me have her with her cunt unwashed after our first copulation, I thought of it for days afterwards. Altogether she had her way with me in a manner I did not see, and have only comprehended since.
This went on for some months. Whether she had other male friends or not I don't know, but I never found her in Regent Street or other places where I had once been able to find her, after I began to see her regularly, and have reason to think that she ceased casuals after she had me, and perchance another, that is all. Hannah said often at a future day that I was her only friend.
I have not yet described her. She was of perfect height for a woman, say five feet seven, her form from her chin to her toe-nails was faultless, if anything inclining to too much flesh, and to too great a backside; but then I liked flesh, and a woman's bum could not be too big for me. I used to rub my lips and cheeks over her bum for a quarter of an hour at a time, when she condescended to turn it upwards for so long a time for that worship. Handsome her face certainly was, but it was of a somewhat heavy character: her eyes were dark, soft, and vague in expression which together with the habit of leaving her lips slightly open, gave her a thoughtful, and at times half-vacant look.  Her cunt was thick-lipped, and with largish inner lips which showed well in nearly the whole length of the split; her mons was very plump, and covered well, but not widely with crisp black hair. She looked twenty-six, yet was not more than twenty-two, and she looked most handsome when lying asleep.
If I were asked the most perfect thing about her, I should say her feet and legs up to her notch—they were simply perfect; I have seen them as handsome in smaller women, never in one of her height. I must add that her cunt was large both outside and inside, and that she was not a voluptuous poke to me, but why I can only guess at now; I did not know it whilst I was acquainted with her.
"A little of that satisfies me," she would say of poking, "once a week,—once a fortnight, excepting at times,—you men are beasts, all of you." She at first refused my mouth, never moved her bum, and laid like a log. "Here I am,—do what you like,—do it, and get it over,—or leave it," was her common mode of meeting my grumbling. Her first sexual pleasure with me was I believe the night she dined with me; afterwards she took pleasure with me more frequently, but un-cunting me, and rushing out of bed to wash the instant I had spent, before I had indeed done spending; until a sudden change in her took place which I shall tell of, and then she was kinder, more lustful, or perhaps I might say more loving, and more reckless; letting me enjoy her after my own fashion, and abandoning herself to enjoyment as much as it was perhaps in her nature to do so.
I found that she often now was with the keeper of the house, or rather she who represented her,—Hannah. So I got acquainted more closely with Hannah, would go into her parlour, and talk with her before Sarah came. This began one day when I was awaiting Sarah by her asking me if I would cast up a column of figures, nearly the whole of which was in five shillings and seven and sixes. I did it once, then I did it a second time. Going in one day just afterwards she stepped out from her parlour, and thanked me. I stepped into the parlour, and got into the custom of doing so,—if ladies were not in there,—but there was a good introduction business done, as will be seen, and oftentimes ladies were waiting there till their swains arrived.
One day she cooked a luncheon for me, once a breakfast, the latter was during the time I had quarrelled with Sarah, and took another woman to sleep with me there. I complimented her on her cooking, she was half groggy (as she often was), and was very talkative. "Lord," said she, "you have tasted my dinners many a times." "Nonsense." "Yes you have."
"Where?" "Do you recollect a ball at———, where all the servants were allowed to look at the table before supper, and your coming down with Mr.———, and we all scuffling back?" "Perfectly." "Well I cooked that supper." Then it turned out that she had been cook at a house where I was a constant visitor, she had recognized me at once, but did not recollect my name, or so she said,—indeed it was not probable that she knew it. She had been caught with a soldier in the house, and had been kicked out.
Now by chance of fortune she was keeper of a baudy house, and her soldier visited her there when in London,—he was a Guardsman,—and she supplied him with money, and lots he had, for she robbed her Mistress wholesale of the baudy house profits.
Hannah had two sisters; one a married woman with a bad husband, and several children. She often came and assisted at J.... s Street, sometimes acting as chambermaid,—and about two years after this period of my history, a second one appeared who had been a housemaid, and who had I suppose also lost her character.  I never saw higher, and shall have more to say about her hereafter. Her name was, Susan—a sailor was said to be in love with her.
Sarah at the end of some months asked me to give her five pounds, and soon afterwards ten pounds. She was going to make up a sum of money to buy a business for her father. She had been dressing very shabbily I noticed, and said she knew I did not mind that, and it was all because she was trying to save money,—to quit that life she hoped,—and I believed it. I could not get her for several days, yet could have sworn I had heard her voice one day in loud altercation with a man in the parlour when I was waiting for her upstairs. I rang and asked for her; the servant came, and asserted that Miss Mavis was not there, and I never saw her that night. Next day I made an appointment (through Hannah) for eleven a.m., and waited a long time before she came up. She looked ill. "You've been crying." "I have not."  She asserted she had not, and then burst out sobbing saying she was unwell. I was distressed, and sent for wine, Hannah came up and comforted her (I saw Hannah knew all about it). Then we were left to ourselves. "I've never been abed all night," said Sarah. "Come to bed now." To my extreme astonishment into bed she came, after looking at me in a very earnest manner.
I had often asked her before, and she never would; saying she never had been in bed but with one man, and never meant. I was enraptured, stripped to my skin, and was soon pressing every part of her body to mine. She gave herself up to me entirely, her tongue met mine as we spent. "Don't throw me out now dear." "Very well."   I told her the time, she sighed saying, "It's no matter,—it serves them right." It was a day of miracles, Hannah sent up food, we ate it in bed, we fucked again and again. I was delighted with the spunk we left on the sheets; then we dined at the Café, and went back to the baudy house,—more fucking, no cunt-washing, all was free baudy, abandonment.
Hannah came up to us about the time Sarah usually left me, and told her it was time to go. Sarah said she did not care a damn, Hannah begged her to go,—she would go home with her. She agreed to go, kissed me, and said I was a kind fellow. I waited outside, and tried to dodge her home; but was unsuccessful; the two discovered me, stopped, and upbraided me, and came back to the baudy house. Then she made me promise not to follow her, and went out to piddle as she said. Hannah followed, I waited five minutes for them, and then called to the servant. She came in with a demure face, and said "Lor sir they have both gone out five minutes ago."
For weeks after that Sarah was changed, and with the exception of not stripping entirely did as freely as I wished, she did everything I wanted, but sleep with me all night; she kept out later, but away at night she went; she embraced me, enjoyed her fucking, and in fact treated me like a husband. Then she said one day, "I'm some months gone in the family way." "Who's the dad?" "You perhaps." "No I'm not,—it's some man you are fond of, not me." "I am fond of no man," said she. Then she was ill, and away for three weeks, she had had a miscarriage. I was in despair, and sent her money all the time of her illness, but could learn nothing from Hannah, excepting that Sarah was a dear good woman, and too good for him.  So I came to the conclusion there was some other man in the way.
Another day I pumped Hannah, but she was an old bird, and not easily caught. "She is fond of a man," I said. "She is not a fond sort,—if she is fond of any man at all it's you,—but she has got her duty to do." "What's that?" "Ask her,—I don't know her business. Now you get out, there are some ladies coming here directly, and Miss Mavis won't like your being here with them." "I'm not her property." "Pretty nearly you are,—at all events go, there is a good gentleman. Whilst Sarah was away I did get acquainted with three or four ladies, and two of them I had. Sarah had then either gone abroad or I had had a desperate quarrel with her.
When Sarah met me again she was still miserably ill, and thanked me for my kindness warmly. We resumed our meetings, and again she was cautious, but no longer bounced me. She spent with me, enjoyed me, but entreated me. "Oh! let me wash out the muck,—now do pull it out,—I am so frightened of being ill again." So I let her have her way. She refused to say anything about her illness, excepting that it was I who had caused it; but I did not believe her. She usually now gave way to pleasure with me; at the end of the month I gave her twenty pounds to make up a sum, then she got still more exacting about money. "Oh! I do stop a long time with you,—give me more money,—do,—I want to make up a sum," etc., etc.,—and then of course came a lie. At length she said one bright sunny morning it was, I had poked her, and was laying on the sofa afterwards, she sitting on the easy-chair, her lovely breasts out, one beautiful leg over the other showing slightly the flesh of her thighs, "You won't see much more of me,—we are going abroad."
I started as if I had been shot at. "You?—nonsense,—never."
I sank back on the sofa sobbing, it came home to me all at once that I was madly in love with her.  I felt mad with myself,—degraded!—impossible,—it could not be,—and for a time I conquered myself. I tried then to draw her out about herself. It was useless. Her quiet way of asserting that she was going at length brought home the conviction that she spoke the truth. Then I laid and sobbed on the sofa for half-an-hour. "Oh! you will soon get another friend," said she. "No, no,—I can get a woman, but not one I shall like,—Sarah my darling, Sarah I love you,—I dote on you,—oh! for God's sake don't leave,—come with me,—you shan't lead this life,—we will go abroad together."
"That is impossible,—if I did you would leave me, and then what should I do?—come back to this life,—no." "You are going with somebody else,—who?" "I can't say,—I'll tell you when I am gone." "When are you going?" "Perhaps in a fortnight, perhaps a little later on."
I calmed for a time, a fortnight might give me a chance of persuading her, and I began it at once; but it was all, "No,—no,—no,—it's all for the best for both of us,"—and again I fell into deep despair, my heart felt breaking, I had been so happy with this woman for months, she had so filled my thoughts, so occupied my spare time, that I had half forgotten my home life. Now I felt alone again, I had told her some of my troubles,—not all,—now I poured them all out, and offered everything,—all I had,—to go that next day abroad, and never return; that I would make her love me though she did not now, I promised all men could promise,—and meant it.
"No,—no,—impossible,"—and again I fell back on the sofa sobbing like an infant, I have almost the deadly heart-ache now as I write this. She sat looking at me for some time, then she arose, stooped over me, and kissed me. I turned round, and—how strange that in my despair I noticed it, and now recollect noticing it!—as she stooped her chemise opened, and as I put my arm round her, her breasts touched my face, and as I moved to kiss them I saw her whole lovely form down to her feet, the dark hair of her motte, the bright white scar; and all in the soft subdued light which is on a woman's body when enveloped in a thin chemise,—and my prick stood whilst kissing her and sobbing, and she was soothing me.
"It's of no use your loving me," she said, "and it's of no use my loving you,—don't take on so,—perhaps when I am gone you will be happier at home,—I can't love you, although I like you very much, for you have been a good, kind man to me,—I nearly do love you I think,—if I were with you I'm sure I should,—but it's of no use, for I am a married woman, and have two children, and am going with them and my husband."
I was amazed, and doubted it. "I'll bring you my children to see," said she, "it was to get them their dinners and tea that I always left you at times as I have." "And at night?" "I always go home before he comes home." "You always go home to your husband?" "Yes."
How I loathed that man!—my loathing rose to my lips.  "No he's not,—poor fellow, he would earn our living if he could, but he can't." "I don't believe it,—a man who lives by a woman is barely a man,—I would empty cesspools to keep a woman I loved, rather than another man should stroke her,—no good can come of it,—he'll leave you for some other woman some day." Sarah turned nasty, said she was sorry she had told me so much, that all I said against him only made her like him the more; and so leaving me in sorrow she went away.
Now that I felt sure she was going away, I could not see too much of her; morning, noon, and night I had her. She brought her two children to me, and very proud she was of them. How it was I never noticed the marks of childbirth on her before I know not, but I never had. I spoke of that now. "I took good care you should not," said she smiling, and I recollected that when I had her by the side of the bed, when I looked at her on the sofa, it was nearly always with her back to the light; when laying on the bed, and I tried to gratify my passion by opening her thighs, and gazing on her hidden charms, she nearly always half-turned towards the window, and her belly was in shadow. "I don't like to be pulled about,—I won't have it,—if you want me have me, and have done with it,—get another woman if you like who will do it, or allow it,—I won't." These and similar answers always settled me, and I submitted, for I was under her domination, and in my folly I had actually feared that if I persisted, she would not come to see me.
She brought her children in the morning to me at J...s Street, and I had her that afternoon. Now she was free enough, pointed herself to the marks of childbirth (very slight they were), and voluptuously held her cunt-lips open,—she had never done so before. From that day and afterwards she allowed me to see her in every way or manner, if not to let me do what I wished. The mystery was over, I knew most if not all,—certainly all about her person.
 A show of legs.—The consequence on me.—Effect on Mrs. X..i.
I dined with Sarah repeatedly until her departure, she was now often in low spirits, and drank very freely of champagne; then would fuck with a passion and energy which did not seem natural to her, for by look and general manner one would have sworn she was even tempered, and without much passion,—had I not found that out by experience? One night soon after she had brought her children to me, she seemed wild with lust. What was the matter with me I don't know, but I had no desire for her, and could scarcely stiffen for the embrace; yet she was in ecstacies with me as I fucked her. "Do it again," said she. "I can't." "You must do it,—I've not washed." "I can't."  "I am in the family way again I think," said she as she left, "and if so will jump over Westminster Bridge." But she was not, and after that night she persuaded me not to spend in her, but to withdraw just as my emission took place. "It will spoil all my plans if I am in the family way," said she, "all I have done will be of no use if I cannot act." "Act?" "Yes, I am an actress." "Does not your husband spend in you?" "No one has spent in me but you, since my miscarriage,—I won't let him, and he doesn't want me in the family way."
"You an actress!" "Yes,—have you never seen me?" "No." "Are you sure?" "Yes." "Did you ever see the Poses plastiques and Madame W...t.n?" "Yes, two or three years ago." "Well I was one of her troupe." "God God!—and what do you do now?" "Nothing,—but we have a troupe going on the Continent,—I am the principal—I am Madame W...t.n now."
Then she told me she had in her youth been a model for artists, had sat to Etty and Frost, hers was the form which had been painted in many of their pictures,—and then she would say no more.
I grew sadder and sadder as the time came for her departure; so did she. She said I worried and unsettled her; she wondered sometimes if she were doing the best thing for herself and children or not. She was so frightened lest she should get in the family way, that as already said she made me withdraw before the critical moment, spending my sperm on her thighs or on the crisp hair of her motte.  "I hope to God that sperm's all up your womb," said I. Her own pleasure had so overcome her, that she could not move for a minute; then jumping up she washed herself with a sponge,—she recently had used one.
Then for hours I used to look her over and over from head to foot, as if I wished to recollect every part of her person for ever afterwards: the roots of her hair, the ears, the way the hair grew on the nape of her neck; the way it grew on her cunt, and in her arm-pits, and every other part I used to look over as if searching for something; the only part of her which escaped my investigations was the bum-furrow, which was to me an uncomfortable part in all women, and in my wildest sexual ecstacies and aberrations I neither felt it nor saw it, and don't know whether the hole was round or square; red or brown.
After she had told me she had sat as a model, she brought me a small oil-painting of herself made by an artist of some rank. She was proud of it, and so was her husband. I offered such a price for it, that placed as she was she could not resist, and I bought it. She gave me one day a photograph of herself; both had the characteristic opening of the lips well shown. It is only recently that I have destroyed these mementos of a dead affection.
When I saw that nothing would keep her in England I did my best to help her enterprise, gave her money freely, paid for dresses, boots, travelling cloaks, children's dresses, and in brief for everything. During the nine months I had known her she in fact ran me dry, and in debt. I spent upon her more than I could have lived on for four years at the rate I lived at just before I met her. But I was now in better circumstances than I had been for years, and the money was my own.
As the time approached, I could neither sleep nor eat, and used to be at J... s Street hours before I knew she could come; would wait any time for her, treating Hannah and the ladies, and doing nothing but talk about Sarah. Sometimes I used to think about following her abroad. When she came to the house, I used to spend my time in crying, and she after telling me not to be foolish, would cry too. Then, "Oh! let me see you naked." "There then." Then came kisses all over her body. "Oh! now for God's sake don't spend in me." Then came a delicious fuck; then crying and moaning recommenced. She left a week at least before she had said she should, and did so to prevent me the pain of parting with her,—I must give her that credit. Hannah told me so.
I had arranged to see her one morning, and was as usual there before my time. Hannah stepped out from the parlour. "Has Sarah come?" She beckoned me into the parlour. "Why they all sailed this morning,—my sister went to see them off,—did you not know?" I staggered to the sofa dizzy, speechless, then senseless. When I came to myself Hannah was standing besides me with brandy and water and a spoon with which she was putting it into my mouth.
"Don't take on so," said she, "don't think any more about Sarah,—she is a fine woman, but there are lots as good,—I know a dozen, and any one would be glad to know a man like you,—have some brandy and water,"—and she took a great gulp herself. "There now," said she bending over me. "would you like to see Mrs.———, she who met you the other night in here with Sarah,—she has taken quite a fancy to you,—don't cry. Sarah will come back, and if she don't you'll get another woman whom you will like as well. There is Mrs.———, a splendid shaped woman who only sees one gentleman here,—she took quite a fancy to you, though she only saw you once." But I was desperate, and rushed out of the house. Where I went to, I don't even recollect, but went home at last very drunk,—an extraordinary occurence for me.
For some days I was prostrate in mind, and almost in body, but at length recovered sufficiently to attend a little to my affairs which had gone altogether to the bad for a month, and had been going bad for many months. I resolutely set myself against going to J... s Street, and would not have women; indeed scarcely knew where to lay my hand on a shilling, so necessity had perhaps as much to do with my virtue as anything else; but I was generally in a weak, low state of health, and really believe, though it seems to me almost incredible now, that it was well nigh three weeks before I touched or saw a cunt after Sarah left.
Then one Sunday I had erections all day long. After dinner lust drove me nearly mad; so I went to my room, took a clean sheet of white paper, and frigged myself over it.
I may say here that on several occasions of my life I have frigged myself over a clean sheet of foolscap paper; it was mostly done for curiosity, to see what my sperm was like, whether it was as thin, or as thick, or as large in quantity as at the last time I previously had masturbated.
I could not after that Sunday keep away from J...s Street, and went there the next day. "I don't expect she'll write to you," said Hannah, "even if she said she would,—what will be the use?—it will only make you miserable." But I felt sure she would, and kept away from women still for some time after that,—I was stumped for money among other reasons. Then I began to spend involuntarily in the night, which to me was more hateful than frigging myself; so one night I went out for a bit of cheap quim. Whether I saw Brighton Bessie or not I can't say, but I think I did, and did later on.
 But the women, their chemises and petticoats, and their rooms shocked me more than they used, and kept me chaster than I otherwise might have been.
One night I went home with a tall straight woman who would not take my fee.  If you get a woman for five shillings you have to pay for the room besides, and ten shillings is only a small sum; so I went with her for ten shillings, and saw her at intervals for a few months.
She was about five feet nine high, was not stout, was as straight as a lath, yet not thin, had very firm but quite small breasts, and a biggish bum.  I used to think her a plain woman, one of the plainest, but she was a glorious fuckster; her cunt was tight inside, and yet so elastic as not to hurt or pinch (and I was at that time when just at spunking point as often said before tender-pricked).  It was seeing her large white teeth that first attracted me before I could distinguish any other feature of her face; you could see them at night right across a road, they were dazzling, and almost made one forget the great thick-lipped orifice which opened to expose them. I have before told of women who attracted me by their teeth, and particularly of a Creole.
This Mulatto as I called her, amused me with her letcherous postures; she was as lithe as a willow branch, and was willing to please. I was fond of making her kneel on the bed with bum towards me, and her legs nearly close together, and then the backward pout of her cunt was charming to me, so much so that I took to poking her dog-fashion.

She had such a very remarkable steady walk that she scarcely seemed to move, she glided; her feet were so nicely carried forward, and her body so evenly balanced from her hips. In this respect she resembled a tall dark woman named Fletcher, whom I knew quite recently. There must have been something in the arrangement of their thighs and hips which caused this. Women who are accustomed to carry heavy loads on their heads always walk straight, and never roll from side to side as most people more or less do; but I don't know that either of the women named had carried baskets on their heads,—I knew the walk of that class of women, having been born in the neighbourhood where they worked.
 When I stripped and got into her on her belly, she would twist her legs right into mine in quite a snaky fashion, and sometimes lift her legs up till her heels were almost up to my blade-bones.
After I had once been to J... s Street again I went more and more frequently. Hannah was always nearly screwed,—champagne or brandy pleased her best.
When she was so, she would at times gradually let out much that she knew,—and this is what she let out one day.
"Bah! her husband indeed!—she is not married,—he's got a wife besides, and Sarah knows it,—he's blackened his wife's eyes more than once when she has been annoying them; but that don't pay, for she is his lawful wife; so he allows her something, and it keeps her quiet, and she won't last long, for she is drunk from daybreak till night.  This came out one day after Hannah had dined; I had brought her a bottle of specially fine brandy, and we were sitting in the parlour drinking it together mixed with water.
I had long been getting into Hannah's good graces. I stood wine and brandy, was always respectful to her and the gay ladies I met in her parlour, and never used coarse, rude language to them, nor in speaking of them or of ladies of their class. Hannah told me I was a great favorite with several of them, as indeed I found to be the case. I may say that all my life I never spoke disrespectfully to, or of gay ladies, so long as they behaved themselves; they have been mostly throughout my life, kind and true to me after their fashion, they gave me pleasure, and I treated them as if I was grateful for it.
But I was moreover serviceable to Hannah. Once or twice as told she had brought me some figures to cast up, and when Sarah had left, she brought me others on various little scraps of paper. She asked me never to mention my having done so to her sister, and I did not. I became curious at finding the items were all in five shillings, seven and sixpence, ten and twenty shillings; at last it struck me what it was, and taxing her with it found it was the takings of the baudy house, she told me so with a laugh. She could not write herself.
The takings were put on slips of paper by the servants, and by some process of her own which she could not explain, she got a rough sort of check on the servants to prevent them robbing her. She had to account to the real owner of the house,—and how she did it she alone knows. This is certain (she once admitted it), that from the takings she put a pound a day into her own pocket. Whether she robbed the owner to that extent, or whether it was her admitted share I never knew. She was well dressed, had excellent food, allowed her Guardsman money, her sister's husband money, and others too I rather think. But after she'd taken her three or four hundred pounds a year, there was a splendid income handed over to some one. This house had but eight rooms, and two more closets to let out for fucking; they often took twenty pounds a day, and sometimes much more.
I did this arithmetic pretty regularly, and she became my fast friend. She told me all about Sarah that she knew (what Sarah at a future day told me agreed with it), and much about the habits of other loose ladies which will be partially narrated in due time, and a good deal about baudy house management.
And now more about Sarah's antecedents. A new species of entertainment had sprung into existence a few years before this time, called "Poses plastiques," in which men and women covered with silk fitting tightly to their naked limbs and made quite white, placed themselves on stages in classical groups to the sound of music. Women and men of great physical beauty formed these groups, they were in fact actors of that class. Madame W...t.n known as a splendid model first got them up; her husband was a splendid man, Sarah was her niece, and also had a beautiful form which ran in the family; she was poor, and Madame W...t.n took her to live with them, and at seventeen years of age she appeared as Venus.
At nineteen she had a child by Madame W...t.n's husband, at twenty a second. Madame found out the father, and kicked Sarah out. Mr. W...t.n then kicked Madame out, and went to live with Sarah, rows ensued, other companies of "Poses plastiques" came into competition, the thing got overdone, he could not get his living; he knew a trade, but was I expect too lazy to work at it; so Sarah took to letting herself out as model, and that being poor pay, to letting out her cunt to get their bread; she had just began it when I first met her. They seem during a year or more to have parted with all their goods, before she took to showing her belly-parting for money.
So beautiful a form of course succeeded, and for a time I became the principal milk-cow. Then a proposition was made to form a troupe to go to the Continent; there seemed to be a grand opening, and with Sarah's money (most of it got from me), the apparatus, costumes properties, and troupe were got together.
Off they had gone. She and her husband were the exhibition-managers, speculators, and chief actors.
Hannah made a mouth when I asked what sort of a man Mavis was. She did not think much of him,—why did he not work—he had a trade?—no, because he was no longer able to get on as an actor, he preferred to let Sarah get the living for the whole of them. "Ah! you'll see her back, mark my words,—they won't succeed,—and then what will take place? —you'll see,—is she poor thing to work and do everything, that he may lay a bed, dress as a gentleman, and do nothing but take her out for a walk on a Sunday; she is as proud of his taking her out for a walk on a Sunday as if he kept her a carriage." After much reflexion I came to the conclusion that Sarah had only just turned harlot about the time I had first met her that she did it to keep her man and her family, and he got accustomed to his woman getting his living for him.
I kept on calling at J... s Street, always expecting to hear of Sarah. Hannah was glad to see me, for now I cast up her accounts weekly. I got acquainted with two or three ladies there who came at intervals to meet their friends. They were very nice women, none were ever to be seen in the streets, they had either their own acquaintances whom they met at J... s Street, or Hannah had introduced them to gentlemen there.
I began to stand wine when I met them, and was introduced as a friend of Miss Mavis who had gone abroad. I was I found well known by name and a character for kindness, and I expect also for being a fool. All the women were shy at first, Hannah's sister (the servant) I overheard telling Hannah that the ladies did not like my being in the parlour. Hannah at times would ask me to leave, as a lady wanted to come into the parlour and wait there, and so on. But gradually Hannah would say, "Who is it?—oh! she knows him,"—or "Oh! she won't mind,—let her come in." So by degrees I became intimate with these privately gay ladies, and several of them on more than one occasion joined their sweet bodies to mine in the game of under and over.
I had never had a woman in the house since Sarah had gone; firstly because I did not then pay more for the girls than I did for the room alone at J... s Street, and because, I feared if Sarah came back Hannah would tell her,—as if it would have mattered to Sarah in any way excepting that another woman would get the money she might have had. Still I had that stupid idea about the matter, and although I had longed for one or two of the other ladies, and although they had looked languishingly at me. I never had then proposed a private interview upstairs.
One day Hannah said she had heard from Sarah who had asked after me. "They are (Sarah and the troupe) getting on well," said Hannah, "if she says so I suppose they are,—but we shall see." Suddenly, "Have you had another woman since she left?" The question startled me. "No." "Oh!  Then I confessed, and told her what I had done. "Why don't you have Mrs. Fisher?" said she. "I'm poor, and can't,—I'm not going to do what I did with Sarah." "Lord she won't mind,—she'd like you I know,—but don't say I said so,—she's got a lovely leg,—she's a fine woman,—nearly as fine made as Sarah Mavis, and she is taller,—she never gets it done at home."

"Why don't you see Mrs. X.. i," said Hannah to me, "she likes you, and would come up any day if I wrote to her (I had supped two or three times with that lady),—I would not fret about Sarah, although she is a fine woman,—you let her see you have another woman, and she will come round if she comes back." But I did not for a time.
One afternoon however being in the parlour, Mrs. X.. i was there, a splendid woman about twenty-six years old. Also there was a young woman who had two children by a man with whom she was about to go abroad, and she was a lovely woman. The two ladies had just had a two o'clock dinner with Hannah, I had just come from my Club after luncheon, and sent for champagne. All our talk got frisky,—all knew Sarah, my love. If I could get any one to talk with me about her, I was delighted, and began at it. Said the Mistress, "Well she is a splendid-formed woman certainly,—splendid, but there are lots of others,—I've got a good leg to my knee, so has Mrs. X.. i, and Mrs.———," (meaning the other whose name I forget).
"Show us your leg," said one. "There," said Hannah pulling up her clothes, "now show yours." They all showed their limbs, one after another.   I felt my pleasure coming, and objecting to wet my shirt, began to unbutton.  I had not frigged, it was fullness, and the voluptuous delight at seeing the limbs of the three fine women which fetched me. "There is lots of stuff in him," said one. Ashamed of myself I begged their pardons, and sent for more wine. "He had better have given one of you ladies that good spunk," said the Mistress. I overcame my bash fulness, they laughed about what Sarah Mavis had missed, one professed to feel annoyed at my behaviour. "Oh! you are damned modest," said Hannah.
Mrs. X...i soon afterwards went upstairs into the bed-room to a gentleman she had come to meet. The Mistress said she should lay down,—she always did after her dinner, and slept for two hours,—she was fuddled, and indeed always was.  I recollect the look of her dark eyes and their expression quite well. Hannah snored almost directly. "Let us have a kiss," said the lady to me, "I know you are fond of a well-formed woman,"—and she pulled up her clothes a little.
Mrs. X... i came down. "What you here still?—what have you been doing?" The mother replied, "He has been smoking, and talking about his dear Sarah."  Then they talked about X... i's friend who was a clergyman. X... i was the wife of a man who lived with her, but never had her (so she said); she hated him, he had clapped her once.
The mother went out of the room, and came back, Hannah awoke, we had tea, I paid, it was my rule then to pay for everything for the ladies whenever I was in the baudy house parlour. I rose to go, shaking hands with the two ladies. The one whom I had embraced put a bit of paper privately into my hand. Outside the house I read it. "Wait outside," it said. I had been delighted with her pleasure, and did so.  "You go to the top of the next street," said she, "and I'll meet you,"—and she went another way, and met me at the top. "I did that in case X... i came out," said she, "let us go and have dinner together." "I have not enough money," said I. "Never mind, I have."  She was a charming woman. As we sat on a little sofa dallying after dinner, she said she had not had it for a month, her friend had gone to Germany, where they were going to live, to make arrangements, he would return in a few days; then he, she, and the children were going to Germany with him. "I liked you," said she, "but when I saw what you did before us this afternoon, I could scarcely stop myself, I wanted it so badly,—I dare say I'm in the family way,—oh! don't look,—it's full,—it's dirty,—you shan't."  I paid for the dinner partly, she the rest,—I had not a sixpence left. "I'm sorry," I said to her, "that I have no more money." "I did not come here for money," said she.  "No, I've lots of gloves." "Then give me a kiss."  I never saw her, nor had her again. Hannah told me she was in Germany, and very happy there.
Louisa Fisher.—Chaffing.—Her form and fucking.—A supper in bed.—A lascivious night.—Meetings afterwards.—Hannah's legs.—Intruders in the bed-room.—Louisa's voluptuousness.— Enceinte.—Her husband.—Her gentleman friend.—About herself.—Illness.—Mrs. A... y.
I began to meet a Mrs. Fisher at the house very frequently; why she was more frequently there I did not know, and knew it was but of little use asking questions why.
I rather liked this lady. She came usually at one o'clock, and had dinner with Hannah. At three o'clock she went upstairs, was there about two hours, then came down and went away. At times she waited, had tea, and sometimes early supper; this was when she was expecting some one who did not come. I was told confidentially by Hannah it was a rich middle-aged clergyman. The ladies name was Mrs. Louisa Fisher,—her christian name I have written truly, the surname is not. I do this lest she be alive still, and should read somehow this result of my doings with her at J...s Street; she can't mistake if she reads these pages who it was.
After what Hannah had told me I could not help taking a great deal of notice of this lady, and began to lust for her, and of course took to talking to her about Sarah. She was nothing loth, and asked me curious, and at last down right indecent questions about her, but not in smutty language. Hannah when there used to laugh at the questions and my replies; they made my cock stand, which perhaps was what Louisa intended, or it may only have been curiosity without any hidden intention.
I imagine that the erotic incident in the parlour had been told to a good many gay ladies; it certainly had to Louisa Fisher, for one night after that I had been to enquire if Hannah had heard again from Sarah, and Hannah had mentioned Louisa, the following occurred. I had dined early, it was about half-past six, Louisa Fisher was there. "Stand us a glass of wine," said she. "Do," said Hannah. "Do," said another lady. "Have you had dinner Mrs. Fisher?" said I. "No, my friend's not been,—I'm hungry, and Hannah is just going to cook me a chop." I myself fetched a bottle of sherry, the chop came, Louisa ate it, and drank sherry; then I sent for brandy, we drank it mixed with water, and Hannah took some neat. I had began about Sarah as I always did. "Well she was a beautiful model," said Hannah, "but Mrs. X... i's leg was better to my mind." "Look how he's blushing," said Louisa.  They both laughed. "Oh! oh! oh! don't I know what you did when you saw her legs." I was then that odd mixture of baudiness and modesty, that I was just as likely to be bold as to be shame-faced, when a woman spoke to me about anything carnal; and now was confused and half-ashamed. "Lord how he's blushing," said Hannah, and she left the room to look after business, she usually put her head out when the street-door opened, if a servant was not in the way on the ground-floor.
Louisa laughed. "I know all bout it," said she, "she was a fine woman."  "Yes," said I laughing, "I wish it had been spilt in her cunt, instead of on the carpet." "Oh! for shame," said Louisa, "well it was waste, was it not,—it might have made two people happy,—did you really spend without frigging it?" "Yes I did."
I got close to Louisa on the sofa to speak with her about the event, to hear from her lips what had been told her. She said not a word, but my face was close to hers, we looked into each other's eyes for a minute, lust was on both. I put my arm round her, pulled her towards me, and kissed her. She returned it, our lips were glued together. "You've got a fine leg Hannah says." "Does she?" "Yes,—let me see it." "No." "Yes." "You only care about Sarah." I made no reply, but went on kissing letcherously, put one hand down, and going on kissing pulled her clothes up to her knees. She stopped me there. "Oh! how round, how nice, how lovely your leg is." "Now be quiet, Hannah will be in." I ceased looking, but my hand slipped higher up, my fingers were inside the satiny wet lips, and my mouth was glued to hers, as Hannah came back.
We resumed a decent posture. Hannah laughed, "Lord why don't you two go upstairs?" said she, "you want each other,—why don't you go?—the first-floor front's empty." "Come," said I to Louisa pulling her. She rose instantly. Hannah was a really good soul, she liked to make people happy, and to set them fucking; I have seen it in a dozen instances.
Without another word we went upstairs, I threw her on the bedside, pulled up her clothes, and opened a magnificent pair of thighs. "Let's go to bed," said she. "Very well." We both undressed like lightning without a word passing, and stood, she in chemise, I in shirt in a trice. "Let's get in naked."
"Oh! how quick we've been,—lay still."   How lovely, how exquisite is the reminiscence! What equals the pleasure of a man and woman pleased with each other, thrilling with lust, when prick and cunt are joined, and they spend in each other's arms!
 And so we lay, kissing, tongue-sucking, and talking the stinging words of love and lust.
Then as repose became a pleasure, and nature severed us. "Oh! my God how wet you have made me," she said, "it's all on the sheet." "Let me feel."
   We were mad for it, neither of us uttered a word, till she cried out, "Oh! I'm coming,—my God,—ah!" And then we spent, and went fast asleep again, exhausted with the pleasure.
We were awakened by a knock. "Who's there?" "Hannah." "What do you want?" "Are you going to stop all night?" "No," said I jumping out of bed, "what o'clock is it?" "It's half-past twelve." "Come to bed," said Louisa. In I jumped. "Oh! I'm so hungry," said she, "how I should like some oysters." "So should I,—get up, and we'll go and have some before the shop closes." "No, stop here, Hannah will get them." I agreed, ordered them, and we went on twiddling each other's privates, I recollect the feel of hers at this very moment,—it was like a paste-pot.
I had never seen her person yet. The throwing her on to the bed, and lifting her clothes, her stripping, and jumping into bed had been so rapid, and so randy had both of us been, so anxious to copulate, that I had had no time to look, to contemplate, to enjoy her with my eyesight. Now off went the bed clothes. "Let's look at your cunt." "I won't till I've washed." "No now." I pulled one thigh.  She jumped out of bed, and washed her quim, I my prick, we pissed, and then she threw herself on the bed, and delivered her body up to me. When I had had a quarter of an hour's investigation, she amused herself with looking and pulling my prick about, waiting for our supper.
She was a very fine tall woman, stout and well-built. She said she was twenty-four, but I believe she was thirty. She looked less stout with her clothes on than when she was undressed, for I was much surprised to see how very big she was when naked. She had a very big arm, her thighs and legs were very big as well. Hannah was right about it, the entire legs were grand, but had not the exquisite curves of Sarah Mavis'. Her bum was proportionate to her thighs, her waist was not nearly small enough, her breasts were very large, and beautifully placed, and beautifully solid; her face was large and common-place, she had grey eyes, and lightest auburn hair,—immense in quantity, which was pleasing, though not handsome; it was not a face which in the streets would have attracted me. Her teeth were good.
The hair on her cunt, which was thick-lipped and pouting, was also of a lightish auburn, not by any means a colour to my taste when between the thighs,—so many women's cunts are furnished with that colour. It was thick, longish, soft in feel, large in quantity, and spread half-way up to her navel, and square across her belly to the line of her thighs.  She was a lovely fucker, and though her cunt was a large one inside and out; the prick was well clipped by it, and kept in when its business was done.  Sarah rarely did that, hating the muck. Indeed when Sarah was randy, and wagged her arse as she did violently, all of a sudden just before she spent, she often threw my stiff prick out, which set me off damning and cursing till it was up her again.
 Another doze. "Ulloh! why it's three o'clock,—I must be off." "Don't go dear,—stop all night." "I can't,—they will think I am ill." "So they will me, but I can't go home, I live too far off,—do stop all night with me, there's a darling," said she.
Instead of a doze we had slept two hours. I at times stopped out all night, and never without saying I intended to do so, but I was tired and sleepy. "Oh! don't go." I put on my shirt. "Well let's have another poke before you go,—the champagne has made me so randy." It had also operated on me.  "Come," said she uncovering to her knees. Off went my shirt, and jumping into bed the thighs received me, the voluptuous tongue and round, soft, wet lips glued themselves on to mine again, and heaving gently we were already on the way to another spend. My God what work, what prolonged pleasure!—I forgot Sarah Mavis, and every other woman that night in the arms of Louisa. In baudy amusement we passed the whole night together, and I awakened at ten the next morning with the need of going as fast as I could to shit.
I came back, washed, and we fucked again; then she went as she said to speak to Hannah, whom I knew was a bed at that time; she went I knew to empty herself, but I asked no questions. We had ham and coffee in bed, and more fucking, and about one o'clock we rose and left.  Whether spunk was in it or not was all the same, there was no objecting, she gave way to my insistance, and we lay at intervals, she feeling my prick, one of her legs placed over mine, and my hand between her thighs, both of us kissing, tongue-sucking, and scarcely talking.  She was tired, and so was I, yet at the last moment, "Let's try it again," I said: "No, I'm sore, and in pain," said she. I sometimes think my prick must have been nearly a dozen times up her, and when ramming stiff for a long time without spending she murmured, "Oh! pray dear leave off."
 When I had paid for the room, supper and breakfast, I only had a few shillings left. I told her. "Never mind," said she, "you shall give me some money some day when I am hard up;" so I paid her nothing then.
I recollect all this distinctly, I always do the incidents of a first night with a female. When I am accustomed to them, the more striking circumstances of our acquaintance remain in my memory. It seems to me that first night's incidents will always remain fresh in my recollection, excepting the number of fucks; I recollect up to about half-a-dozen, then I lose count, there my memory of a first night alone fails me.
I took a liking for Louisa. For nearly a year I had borne with the frigidity of Sarah and her tyranny, "You shall only do it once,—I won't,—I can't wait,—well go," were commands I had got accustomed to obey, had bowed to refusals to allow her secret charms to be looked at time after time, to have my prick ejected before the last injecting throb had been given. I liked the woman, doted on her exquisite form, liked the domesticity of sitting and reading to her, and at the same time just feeling her cunt whilst she laid on the sofa, because I liked her conversation, and because I was at times rewarded by rapturous delight when she abandoned herself body and soul to me, I submitted to all this. But I often rebelled, wished it was otherwise, and made up my mind to leave her for other women, yet did not. I have said all this before.
Now to have a splendidly made woman, who had as much pleasure with me as I had with her, was overwhelming. I forgot Sarah for a time, and longed for the repetition of the baudy, voluptuous hours I had had with the big-armed, big-thighed Louisa, and counted the days till we met again. The instant I set eyes upon her we went upstairs. "Let's get into bed." Then it was a race who undressed the first. "Naked?" "Yes naked." She laughed. "Look at your thing," said she as sitting down she pissed. It was stiff as a poker; the next minute I was laying bedded on that soft fleshy form, and we were spending.
 When her tongue touched mine, she sometimes ran her lithsome tongue over my teeth, or under my lips, and along my gums,—it was a peculiarity of hers. Then she would glue her wet lips to my wet lips, till our salivas mingled, and ran profusely, stimulating our lusts.
Soon I grumbled at her going so, and she promised to stop a longer time. "Have a shoulder of mutton," said she, "and onion sauce,—I love it,—Hannah will cook it beautifully,—we will dine at two o'clock, Hannah with us." So it came about; we three sat down to a shoulder. Louisa liked sherry, Hannah brandy; I brought both of fine quality, we gorged, Hannah got slightly tight, observing Louisa and I caressing. "Ah!"  "Why where is Jack?" "Oh! at Windsor, and I shan't have a bit for a month at least." "You'll have to frig yourself," said I joking. "That's better than nothing, but I like the wetting best." Louisa laughed, and used afterwards to say to Hannah, "Has Jack given you a wetting?" Later on some other free ladies took up the joke, and Hannah's "wetting" became a bye-word among the circle of free, mercenary lovers.
Dinner over we hurried upstairs, and we went naked to bed. This was about half-past three; there we lay till eleven o'clock at night, and had an oyster supper in bed. Hannah came up, and ate oysters with us whilst we were in bed together. We ate them out of the shells, and drank champagne, heard happy couples over head, and joked about it, talked about fine limbs, about Sarah's fine legs. "Show us yours Hannah," said Louisa. Hannah without a word cocked one leg up against the bed, and drew up her petticoats to the top of one thigh. "There," said she, "I am not ashamed of it." She had a fine leg, but was a very plain woman. She had shown her leg to me on the day of the leg-show, when I had spent involuntarily, as I have already told. We laughed and praised her leg. "Oh! I'm ashamed of you both," said Hannah dropping her petticoats, laughing, and hurrying out of the room. "I know where his fingers are."
Hannah left the room. We began fucking, I was on the top operating when the door opened, and a couple showed themselves. We heard a voice crying out, "Not there Maam, it's occupied," and Hannah's sister rushing in ejected a man and woman who had entered before they saw a couple were in the bed. We were too far advanced to mind, I uncunted with the object of closing the door, but the servants having done so, we consumated and dozed off; nor was it till the servant came to say we ought to be careful, that I got up and bolted the door.
Then began a regular meeting once a week, and sometimes twice. Money seemed no object to Louisa, she took what I gave, and never asked for more; once or twice she said, "I want a bonnet dear,—give me one,"—or a new pair of boots, or was hard up for a trifle, and then I gave her all I could; but she had not in a couple of months as much as at the last period of my acquaintance with her, Sarah had from me in three days. But she let me spend money in oysters and champagne suppers, and early dinners, Guardsman Jack who had come back from Windsor, used often to get his fill. I once saw Jack in bed with Hannah, and his scarlet uniform on the chair; he turned himself round with his face to the wall when I entered.
Louisa was a voluptuous poke, and enjoyed the fun as much as a woman could. I think, (but recollection on that point is not clear, when I come to comparison), that she was the nicest woman to lay on I ever had.  She had also when her pleasure was increasing, a movement of her whole body, and not of her cunt and backside alone; her breasts quivered with a gentle, perfectly natural motion, and I could feel her flesh moving and rubbing against mine from belly to neck in a way which stirred lust in me from the hair of my head to the soles of my feet; I seemed to feel all over her body at once, and it was most delicious. She had a lovely lasciviousness with her tongue.   With many it is evidently business, with her it seemed pleasure.
(My pleasures however with her were of a simple kind. I had none of the varied erotic pleasures that I now know, the bum-hole and mouth were reserved for the enjoyment of my more matured years.) I should have seen her more frequently, but she would only come at the outside twice a week. No it was impossible,—she lived too far off. I tried to get out of Hannah some knowledge about her, but could not. One day only when fuddled she asked if I had heard she was married. "You mean," said I, "living with a man." "No really married, and been so for years,—oh! don't you tell her,—she'll cut the house if you do."
 "I have a surprise for you," she said. "For me,—what?" "I'm in the family way." "The devil,—whose fault is that?" "No one's fault, and perhaps no misfortune,—would you like a child?" "I?—why?" (I had a presentiment of what was coming.) "Because it is yours." "Nonsense." "It is my dear,—I have felt certain of it for some time past, but waited to be quite sure before telling you." "Are you quite sure?" "As certain as I am that I shall die."
I was flabbergasted, felt distressed, as if I had done her some harm that I could not repair, that I had injured her, and should cause her pain and annoyance. It was succeeded by a fear that I should have trouble through it, and expense that I could not afford. Then came the idea that she was selling me, putting a plant on me; that if she were with child it was another man's, not mine.  Overwhelmed I lay quiet, confused with the tumultuous thoughts and feelings which rushed through my brain.
At length I said, "Are you sure?" "Yes." "It may be your husband's" (for Hannah's hints came to my mind). "He!—he!—the miserable, contemptible little wretch!—he?"  "No one." "Some one has." "No one,—but I have more than once fancied you were married by the difficulty I have in getting you to come to meet me when I want." "Some one has told you." "No one has." "I'm a damned fool," said she, "I dare say you know more than you say,—what do you know?" "Nothing." "It's your child, and no one else's,—I'm sorry I have told you,—say nothing more about it,"—and she turned on her back. "Are you married?" "Of course not, or I should not be in bed with you." "Some man is keeping you perhaps." "No one is keeping me either," said she.
I could not keep quiet, so much was I excited, and thought of the man she met at J... s Street still, although she tried to hide that. I did not like to suggest it, for I had found out that any reference to him annoyed her, and I always avoided giving pain to any woman I had connection with; but the matter seemed so grave that I could not keep what was on my mind to myself, and as delicately as I could suggested him.
"It's not," said she fiercely, "it can't be." "Why?" "You are the only man who has spent in me for years." "What," said I incredulously, "no one had you?" "No one has spent in me but you for years,—no one." I was staggered, but returned to the subject. "Nonsense Louisa,—how can you tell?" "I've told you why." "Why if you've a husband, and if you have a friend who meets you, how can you be sure it's me?"
  "That's no concern of yours,—but no man's stuff has ever been up me for quite two years but yours,—I'm not going to say any more about it,—my business is not yours,—nobody has asked you to keep the child,—you need not trouble yourself,—I'm sorry I told you." She turned her bum to me, and began to cry; I tried to comfort her.
"That will do," said she, "give me some oysters and champagne."  "No you shan't have it,"—nor would she let me. The oysters and champagne made her more complaisant, but she was angry and snappish.
Soon after she was loving, sad, and serious, was sorry I would not have liked the child, for it was certainly mine, but she would get rid of it. Then in the familiarity of a lewd man and woman naked in bed together, she told me a lot about herself.
She was married, she lived with him and her mother, but loathed her husband.  If she left him, she would have to support her mother alone,—perhaps it would come to that some day,—she was quite prepared for it. They ate and drank together when he was at home, but had not slept together for years. He kept the house comfortably enough,—perhaps he would so long as she took trouble about it, for he did not care so long as he got his food good. Yes she did meet a friend. It got her luxuries she could not get any other way; her husband knew she got money elsewhere, for she dressed in a way he must know his money would not enable her to do. He asked no questions, and did not care nor heed, nor seem to notice. That was pretty well all I ever got out of her. Hannah drunk, and talking to me one day said he was a very little man, and a brewer's clerk, "a hop o' my thumb," she called him. "Never mind what my friend does," said Louisa, "I've known him some years,—he does something of course, he does not meet me for nothing, but I tell you he has never spent in me,—no man has spent in me for years but you." "Do you frig your friend?" "If you like, anything else you like, it's all the same,—I'm not going to say; but neither he nor any one else has spent in me,—no man's seed has been up me for two years or more. The first night you had me I spent first, you spent after; the next time as your seed touched me, I felt a shiver run right through me, and I got in the family way at that very instant, I'm sure." Louisa was particular in her language, she never said "spunk,"—thought it a nasty word,—she always said "seed," or "stuff" when she spoke of my sperm,—Sarah called it "muck".
 At all events she must have satisfied him some way, for he had known her she said some years. A man was likely to stick to Louisa, for she was a magnificent piece of flesh, from her neck to her ankles.

 One day in baudy vagaries we had been posturing, and she straddled across my face, bringing her cunt right on to my mouth, and my nose to her bum, she had been asking me if I ever kissed Sarah in any way but the straight one. She began kissing my pega as she lay on the top of me, I kissed her buttocks, but took no hint, if any were intended.
After a little time she began asking me if I had not forgotten Sarah,—did I love her as much?—did I long to have her again?—did she (Louisa) not give me as much pleasure as Sarah? I had then got over my desolation a little, and only thought of Sarah and her exquisite form with a sigh, was annoyed that she had not written to me, and I began to confess to myself, that for fucking, Sarah was not to be compared with Louisa. Then I began to wonder at my having been so infatuated, and let it out to Louisa one night. She said she wished I would keep her,—three pounds a week, and she would make it do, and so on; and I began to think seriously about the matter, for the expenses at the baudy house were nearly that amount; and although my delicate senses had began to revolt at the strong smell of Louisa, yet her voluptuousness was enticing, and was making me actually constant to her. I had quite left off my Mulatto, Brighton Bessie, and one or two others of my queens.
Louisa was again taken ill,—the consequence of her miscarriage, and of the measures taken to bring that on I was told. She got worse and worse, and was in great danger; she never wrote to me, but often to Hannah, and her letters which I saw always referred to me affectionately; above all she wanted to know what ladies I had at J...s Street. Hannah winking at me used to say, "I'd like to know where you put it away now,—it's put somewhere." I had taken no women to that house; but laughing said I was chaste. Hannah did not believe that, so I said I frigged myself. "You don't spill it about in that way," said she, "let me feel it,"—and she put her hand outside my clothes on to my tool. "Oho!—oho!—oho!" said she, for I stiffened. Then she brought me her accounts to cast up, and when it was done, "I shall take a nap," said she, "you go now, for I expect Mrs. ——— and a strange lady" (I had looked in casually that morning),—and getting on to the bed she laid down showing her legs liberally, and looking at me all the time. "Good bye," I said, and left; but have thought since that Hannah wanted me to have her. She never before or since looked at me in that way, nor behaved with such freedom when we were alone.
Her bed was as I have I think already told, in the front-parlour in J...s Street, and in an alcove, as many beds are in French hotels and houses; and when the curtains were drawn across it, the bed was entirely hidden.
And then when without a woman at my command, and with a frequent need for one, another piece of luck befell me. The way had been paved for it before Louisa was so ill.
A friend's maid-servant.—Jenny.—Initial familiarity.—A bum pinched.—Jenny communicative.—Her young man.—An attempt, a failure, a faint, a look, and a sniff.— Restoratives.
I knew an elderly couple who were childless, and lived in a nice little house in the suburbs with, a long garden in front, and one at the back as well; they were in comfortable but moderate circumstances, and kept two servants only. Every year they went to the seaside, taking one servant with them, and leaving the other at home to look after the house; and usually some one to take charge of it with her. This year they asked if I would when I passed the house (as I frequently did) call in, and see if all was going properly, for the housemaid left in charge was young, and her sister, a married woman, usually only stopped the night with her, leaving early each morning for work in which she was daily engaged. She was an upholstress.
I knew the servant whose name was Jane. She had been with the family some months. I often dined at the house; and once or twice when she had opened the garden-gate (always locked at nightfall), to let me out, I had kissed her, and tipped her shillings. She was a shortish, fat-bummed wench. Not long before this time I gave her bum such a hard pinch one night, that she cried out. A day or two afterwards I said, "Was it not black and blue?" "I don't know." "Let me see." "It's like your impertance," she replied.
After that I used to ask her when I got the chance, to let me see if the finger-marks were there, at which she would blush a little, and turn away her head, but nothing further had come of the liberty.
When I called at the house I had no intention about the girl, as far as I can recollect. She opened the door, and heard my errand and questions. Yes all was right. Did her sister come and sleep there? Yes. Was she there now? No, she would not be there till nearly dark. I stepped inside, for then I thought of larking with her. "I am tired, and will rest a little," and stepped into the parlour, sat down on a sofa, began questioning her about a lot of trifles, and in doing so thought of the pinch I had given her bum, and my cock began to tingle. Then I thought she was alone in the house.  Curiosity increased my lust, and unpremeditatingly I began the approaches for the attack, though I only meant a little amatory chaffing.
"Is it black and blue yet Jenny?" She did not for the instant seem to recollect, for she asked me innocently enough, "What sir?" "Your bum where I pinched it." She laughed, checked herself, coloured up, and said, "Oh! don't begin that nonsense sir." I went on chaffing. "How I should like to have pinched it under your clothes,—but no I would sooner kiss it than pinch it."  I stood before the door, and stopped her going out. "Now give me a kiss." I caught and kissed her, then gave a lot, and got a return from her. "I won't—Lor there then,—what a one you are,"—and so on. "Well Jenny one kiss, and you may afterwards kiss whenever you want you know." And so she seemed to think, for I got her to sit down on the sofa, and we gossiped and kissed at intervals, till my cock got unruly.  Then she attempted to rise, I pulled her back, we went on gossiping, and kissing at intervals. She got quite interested in my talk as I sat with one arm round her waist, and another on her thigh, outside her clothes of course.
So for a while; but I was approaching another stage, was getting randy, and reckless.  She gave a howl. "Oh! I say now,—what a shame!—oh! you beast." I shoved her back on the sofa upsetting her, got my lips on her thighs, and kissed them. Then she escaped me, and breathing hard, stood up looking at me after her struggle. "Oh! I wouldn't have believed it," said she panting with the exertion. What a lot of women I have heard say, they would not have believed it, when I first made a snatch at their privates. I suppose they say what they mean.
Begging her pardon, "I could not help it," I said, "you are so pretty and nice,—I'd give ten pounds to be in bed with you an hour." "Well I'm sure." "Think what it is not to have a woman you like." "Well I'm sure sir, you are a married man,—you've got a partner, and ought to know better,—Missus would not have asked you to call if she'd a know'd you,—she thinks there's no gent like you,—what would she say if I tell her?" "But you won't my dear." "She thinks you a perfect gentleman, and most unlucky," the girl went on to say, "and she is sorry for you too."
"Oh! she does not know all, but you've heard, have you Jenny?" I tried to make her sit on the sofa again, and promising that I would not forget myself any more she did so. We kissed and made it up, and talking I soon relapsed into baudiness.
The quarrelsome life I led with the oldish woman at home was I knew well understood by the old couple. "I lead a miserable life," said I. "Oh! yes I know all about it," said the girl "Master and Missus often talk about you,—but you're very gay, ain't you?" Then I told this girl a lot. "Think my dear what it is not even to sleep with a woman for two months,—for two months we have never slept together,—I've never seen her undressed,—never touched her flesh,—you know what people marry for,—I want a woman,—you know what I mean don't you,—every night what am I to do?—I love laying belly to belly naked with a nice woman, and taking my pleasure with her,—so of course I can't keep from having other women at times,—you don't know what an awful thing it is to have a stiff prick, and not a nice woman to relieve it." She gave me a push, got up, and made for the door at the word prick. Again I stopped her. She had sat staring at me with her mouth wide open, without saying a word, all the time I had been telling the baudy narrative of domestic trouble, as if she were quite stupefied by my plain language until she suddenly jumped up, and made for the door without saying a word.
I was as quick as she, caught her, put my back against the door, and would not let her go, but could not get her to look me in the face, I had so upset her. There we stood, I begging her to sit down, and promising not to talk so again, she saying, "Now let me go,—let me out." "No,—sit down." "No." But in about a quarter of an hour she did, and then again I told her of my trouble, avoided all straighforward allusion to my wanting other women, but hinted it enough. She got interested, and asked me no end of questions. "Lord why don't you separate,—if I quarrel with my husband so, I'm sure I will,—I tell my young man so." "Oh! you have a sweetheart." Yes she had,—a grocer's shopman,—he lived at Brighton, came up third class to see her every fortnight, starting early, and going back late. She was flattered by my enquiries, told me all about him and herself, their intention to get married in a year; and I sat and listened with one hand outside her clothes on her thigh, and thinking how I could best manage to get into her.
"He goes with women," said I to make her jealous. "He don't I'm sure,—if he did, and I found it out, I'd tear his eyes out, and break off with him, though he says Brighton is a dreadful place for them hussies." She got quite excited at the idea. "When he comes up, you and he enjoy yourselves,—his hands have been where mine have to-night." "No he hasn't,—if he dared I'd—now I don't like this talk,—you said you wouldn't,—leave me alone,—you keep breaking your word." Another little scuffle, a kiss, and a promise. "Why should you not enjoy yourselves?—who would know anything about it but yourselves,—it's so delicious to feel yourselves naked in each other's arms, your bellies close together." "Get away now,"—and she tried to get up. I got my hand up her clothes, pulled her on to the sofa, and holding her down with one hand, pressed myself sideways on her, and kissed her, pulling out my prick with the other.
Then she cried out so loudly that I was alarmed, for the window at the back was open. "Hush,—be quiet,—there,—I've touched your cunt." I pulled one of her hands on to my prick. "Oh! for shame Jenny you touched my prick." Again she got up, and made for the door; so did I, and stood there with my back to it, and my poker out in front of me. "Come and open the door my dear, and you will run against this." She turned her head away, and would not look.  "I'll write to my Mistress to-night," said she, and turned away. "Do my pet,—tell her how stiff it was, and the old lady will want to see it when she comes back." "It's disgraceful." "No my dear, it's to be proud of,—why you're looking at it I can see."
Then she turned quite away. "That's right dear,—now I can see where I pinched your bum,—it was not far from your little quim,—oh! if that could talk, it would ask to be introduced to this,—it's hot, isn't it Jenny?" I said, this and a lot more. She had walked to the back-window, and stood looking into the garden whilst I rattled on. "You're laughing Jenny." "It's a story," said she, "I'm insulted,"—and turned round with a stern face. I shook my tooleywagger. "How ill-tempered you look,—come and feel this, and you'll be sweet-tempered at once." She turned round to the window again.
"I will write my Missus,—that I will." "Do dear."
"My sister will be here directly." "You said she comes at dusk,—it won't be dark for three hours." "I wish you would go,—what will people say if they know you're here?" "Don't be uneasy,—they will know no more than they know of your doings with your young man." "There is nothing to know about, but what is quite proper."
So we stood. She looking out of the window, and turning round from time to time. I standing by the door with my prick out; then I approached her quietly. "Feel it Jenny,—take pity on it." "Oh! for God's sake sir, what are you doing?"  "Oh! there is Miss and Mrs. Brown walking in the next garden." Sure enough there were two ladies there; they could have seen everything close to the window over the low wall which separated the gardens; and had they been looking, must have seen Jenny, me, and my prick. "Oh! if they have seen, they will tell my Missus, and she'll tell my young man, and I shall be ruined,—oh!—oh!—oh!" said she sinking back into an arm-chair with a flood of tears,—half funk and shock, and perhaps randiness, causing it.
I was alarmed. "Oh!" she sobbed, "if they saw you,—hoh!—ho!—and it was no fault of mine,—you're a bad man,—oho! oho!" She sat with her hands to her face, her elbows on her knees. I dropped on my knees imploring her to be quiet, was sure no one had seen me, and tried to kiss her. The position was inviting, I slid my hands up her clothes between her thighs, she took no notice, was evidently in distress, not even conscious of the invasion.  I forgot all in the intensity of my enjoyment, at feeling my fingers on the edge of the soft, warm nick. No repulse I I looked up, she sank back in the chair, seemingly unconscious and deadly white.
 I went towards the door, turned round to look at her. Her calves were visible, I ran back, and lifted her clothes, so that I could just see her cunt-hair, gave her thighs a kiss, and then rushed downstairs, got water, and as I entered the room she was recovering. She knew nothing or next to nothing of what had occured, nor that my fingers had touched her clitoris, though she had not actually fainted.
"I wish I had some brandy," she said, "I feel so weak." "Is there any in the side-board?" "No." "I'll go and get a little." A few hundred feet from the house down a side-door, was a public-house. As I was going, "You will let me in again?" I said. "If you promise not to touch me." She looked so pale that I fetched brandy, but put the street-door key in my pocket as I went. "If she don't let me in," I thought, "she shan't have the key,—and what will she tell her sister about that?" It was a key almost as big as a shovel; she never noticed that I had taken it away. She thought by her dodge that she had got rid of me, and told me so afterwards.
I brought back the brandy and knocked. "Let me in." "I won't." "Then you shan't have the street-door key." This was spoken to each other through the closed door. A pause, then the door opened. "You are coming Jenny." We went downstairs into the kitchen, she had brandy and water, and so had I. It was a hot day, the pump-water was deliriously cool, I made hers as strong as she would take it,—it was an instinct of mine. She got her colour back, and became talkative, we talked about her fainting, but she tried to avoid talking about it, and did not want me to refer to what had led to it. I did, and was delighted to think that it was owing to what is called "exposing my person."
"I don't think the ladies saw it, so you need not have been so frightened Jenny,—but you saw it, did you not?" No reply. "I saw you looking at it." "It's a story." "Why did you faint?" "I always feel faint if I am startled." "What startled you?" "Nothing." "You saw it, and you put your hand over it to hide it, and you touched it." "It's a story,—I wish you'd go." "You ungrateful little devil, when I've just fetched you brandy." "It's through you that I felt ill." "Why?" No reply. "Don't be foolish,—it was for fear that the ladies should have seen my prick so near you,—now look at it,"—and I pulled it out, it was not stiff. "It was twice the size when you saw it,—feel it, and it will soon be bigger."
The girl rose saying she would go and remain in the forecourt till her sister came, if I did not leave, but I prevented her going out of the kitchen.  My talk took its old channel.
"Do you know how long you were fainting?" "I didn't faint, but only a minute or so." "Do you know what I did?"  "What did you do!—what?—what?—what?" She spoke hurriedly, anxiously, in an agitated manner.
"It's a lie,—it's a lie."  (putting my fingers to my nose).
"Oho!—oho!—oho!" said she bursting into tears, "what a shame to take liberties with a poor girl when she can't help herself,—oho!—oho!—you must be a bad man,—Missus had no business to send you to look after me, as if she could not trust me,—she don't know what sort of man you are,—and a gentleman too,—oho!—and married too,—it's a shame,—oho! —oho! I don't believe you though,—oho—o—o." And when I told her again the colour and the make of her garters, she nearly howled. "You mean man to do such a thing when I was ill."
I kissed her, she let me, but went on blubbering. "I've a good mind to tell my young man." "That will be foolish, because you and I mean to have more pleasure than we have had,—and he'll never be any the wiser but if you tell him, he'll think it's your fault."
This had occupied some hours, it was getting dark, but it seemed only as if I had been there some minutes, so deliriously exciting are lascivious acts and words. The charm of talking baudily to a woman for the first time, is such, that hours fly away just like minutes.
I got her on to my lap and kissed her. She was so feeble that I put my hands up her clothes nearly to her knees before she repulsed them. Then I feared her sister coming home; she promised to hide the brandy, and we parted. She kissed me, and let me feel to her knees to induce me to go. "Oh! for God's sake sir, do go before my sister comes." My last words were.  "Pray go"—and I departed, leaving her tearful, excited, and in a state of exhaustion which seemed to me unaccountable.
Probably had I persisted a little longer I should have had her, such was the lassitude into which she had fallen; but I felt that I had made progress, and went home rejoicing, and forming plans for the future.  I was mad with myself when I reflected on that, and the opportunity lost, which might not occur again.
Jenny had not fainted quite, but though unable to speak, resist, or indeed move, she must have been partially conscious. I think this from what I know of her nature afterwards.
When are women most lewd.—Garters, money, and promises.— About my servant.—The neckerchief.—Armpits felt.—Warm hints.—Lewd suggestions.—Baudy language.—Tickling.— "Fanny Hill".—Garters tried.—Red fingers.—Struggle, and escape.—Locked out.—I leave.—Baudy predictions, and verifications.
I have a confused recollection of thinking myself the next day an ass, for having missed a good opportunity of spermatizing a fresh cunt; yet for some reason or another it must have been three days before I went to try my luck again.