Vol. 9 Chapter III

Alice the unknown. • A street meeting. • Beauty struck. • And cunt struck. • A slip. • The missing reticule. • Walking and talking. • "Are you married?" • Lust rising. • My sister's watch. • A long waiting. • The accommodation house. • Willing, wanting, and fucking. • Submission. • Troublesome drawers. • Copulation in excelsis. • The watch given. • Her secret charms. • A heavenly gamahuche. • Her beauty. • Lovely pudenda. • Good bye for ever.

Early in November of the year when Jessie C**t*s married and left England, and at about two o'clock in the afternoon on a dull, rather muddy day, I was going along F***t Street, and met full face a handsome, fresh looking woman of about twenty-one or -two years of age. I was struck at once with her great beauty, nothing sensuous for the moment entered into my admiration of her. Instinct aided by much experience makes me guess oftentimes rightly whether a woman feels lewed. Certainly I have been generally right, in judging whether they are voluptuous by nature or not. Our eyes met, and I thought that a full sized pego would just then please this lady immensely. She looked at me as if a man was in her mind, and as that passed through my brain, a voluptuous tingle ran thro my prick which began gently swelling. What sort of a cunt has she? next I thought. All these ideas and sensations, did not occupy more space of time than writing one of these lines does. — In a moment I was struck with her beauty, in the next minute cunt struck.

I was so smitten that I crossed the street, went back, and again crossed to meet her face to face. In doing so I saw she had a little foot and beautifully formed ankle, for she was holding up her petticoats from the mud. By that time my pego was stiff enough to be driven through a post, for I had been some days sleeping alone, and it had hinted to me that morning that at its roots lay a cunt lubricating essence which it wished to get rid of. The lady's eyes met mine, and again I thought that a good fucking was just then what her handsome body wanted. But who or what was she? Evidently not a professional of the pave but a quiet, well to do one of middle class — I turned back and followed her, watching the lovely feet and ankles and undulating movement of her haunches, which I knew must be of ample size. — My prick was now throbbing and upright in my trowsers. She stopped at a watch maker's and looked long at the goods. She didn't look round till I went close up to her, and said, "They are very pretty." — She looked at me then for a second, and walked on without reply.

I had not been for some time in such a state of rut, I trembled with lust, and followed her longing for her, and wondering who she was, what sort of cunt she had, if it had ever had a pego up it, and the whole group of lewed thoughts and wishes rose which flood my brain when my prick is stiff. Just then she turned to cross the street, in doing she saw me, our eyes met and diverted her attention, an omnibus approached close to her, the driver hollowed out, — "Take care." — She scared at her peril stepped back, and as her feet touched the grassy slippery mud of the footpath, she lost her footing and would have fallen had I not caught her in my arms. "I've saved you an awkward tumble." — "Yes — thank you sir" — for a few seconds we stood close together without further word, till the vehicles cleared away, then she began again to cross, and had no sooner put her foot on the carriage way, than I saw there a small reticule which in her scare she had dropped. — Picking it up, without a word I followed her with it to the other side of the way.

She was there before me. In picking up the bag I lost time, and had to wait to let vehicles pass, and saw her standing and looking about, in the way people do who suddenly miss something — I put my arm with the bag at the back of me in crossing. — "Oh I've dropped my bag sir there," said she in a tone of despair. — "Here it is." — "Oh I am so much obliged to you, I should have been so sorry to have lost it." — "Ah! I wish I'd looked at the love letters in it before I gave it you." — "Not many love letters," said she laughing.

Now we walked on side by side, chatting about her having been nearly knocked down by the omnibus pole, etc. "I almost wish you had fallen, I should have seen more of those lovely feet and ankles, which I've been following for the last few minutes. I don't know what I wouldn't give to see them." — "It's not very civil of you," said she laughing, but she looked me full in the face, seemed pleased, and again I thought that her cunt was hungry, so went on chaffing in the same style. Suddenly, — "Are you married?" I blurted out. — She laughed. — "Guess about it — are you?" — "Guess about it," said I. — "I'm sure you are." — "What do you want to know for," I asked. — "What do you, you want to know about me for?" — "Because I'm dying for you. I fell in love with you the instant I saw your lovely face, and since I saw your ankles I've been scarcely able to walk, I'm lifted off the ground almost by it." This was risky, but I knew if she were virgin and very pure, that she'd scarcely understand my meaning; but if she'd handled a rousing stiff prick a few times, she'd guess what I meant. — She looked me in the face for an instant, and saying, "I'm much obliged to you, but I'm going some distance and must walk quicker, good afternoon" — stepped out quickly. It was a plain hint that she wanted to get rid of me.

But I'd noticed that her face had coloured up, and a look in her eye telling me that she knew my meaning, that she'd had the glorious life giver, working and injecting its balm into her; yes, she'd been fucked I felt sure. But was she married?

"I'm going this way too," said I, still walking on by the side of her, and went on with my talk, making it warmer and more suggestive, but avoiding plain words, and at last asking her to have a glass of wine with me. She wouldn't, was much obliged, but surprized at my asking, and she stepped out rapidly and so did I. But she wouldn't tell me where she was going, and wouldn't meet me anywhere; if I followed her she couldn't help it, but it was useless. — These replies were made among many as we walked on together. — Then I left off suggestive chaffing for a sudden idea came to me. It struck me like lightning, it's wonderful it had not done so before, but now feeling sure that she'd been fucked I was nearly wild with desire, was in my rutting recklessness, and felt that I would give all I had to possess her for awhile. She had so enchanted me, that it seemed as if all the perfections of womankind were hidden under her petticoats, and then her face was so lovely.

I had a few years before given one of my sisters (she is dead now) a silver watch which cost ten pounds; and had that day fetched it from its makers where it had been cleaned. (Good silver watches were much more costly then than now. ) "Were you going to buy your-self a watch?" said I. — "No. I was only looking." — "Where did you buy your own?" I asked with no other object than to keep up the conversation. — "I've not one," said she. Taking out my sister's watch, "That's a pretty one." — "It is," — and she half stopped to look. — "I'll give it you if you'll come and have a glass of wine with me." — She stood quite still with astonishment, her eyes staring wide open, and then said quite softly. — "No thank you sir," and resumed her walk.

Then I again begged her to meet me at any other time or place, said what I really then felt, that I was madly in love with her, that if she did not have a glass of wine with me now, I'd follow and would wait for her if I waited all night: that I would follow her home, and much of the same sort, all the time being at my wits' end to know where to take her to if she'd consented, for we had crossed the river, and were at a part of London but little known to me. I thought she would never get into a cab with me, for I'd already offered to take her in a cab to her destination, but she said she liked walking best, that she had that day walked from ****. About to name a place, she stopped short in her remark. I kept looking out as we walked along for any coffee house with the word "beds" on the windows, and at length saw one, which was a chance, when just then she turned off to a side road, and after a few minutes, from one or two indications I knew we were going in the direction of the same main thoroughfare, in which I first saw Winifred a few years ago, and near to where I had found out a convenient accommodation house.

She had allowed me to chatter on after I'd shown the watch, but was herself silent. At length "I'm going there, good afternoon," said she. — "I'll wait." — "You'll wait pretty long then," said in a manner which stopped my hopes. She entered a largish house in a quiet respectable street, a house built evidently before the neighbourhood had become populous. She never even looked round at me as she entered the door.

Hope then nearly left me but my usual pertinacity in amorous chases remained. I walked about keeping the house in sight for an hour. It grew dark but still I lingered. Tired at length of loitering, I felt my prick, thinking about her hidden beauties, and that if in the dark she would get into a cab with me to drive her part of her way back, I might get a feel of that adorable hirsute opening in her belly, a grope which is in itself a voluptuous lascivious treat with a woman not gay, even if a greater treat does not follow. She did not come out, and then in my lust I thought I'd frig myself. She had told me that her friend or one of her sons, would see her into a cab, and I had noticed one or two young men enter the house as if they were residents there. Still I paced about, thinking of her lovely face, then of her sexual treasure, wishing to possess it, and feeling sure that she was lewed, and dying for the luscious play as well as myself. The second hour went and it was quite dark when out she came alone. In an-other minute I was by her side.

She either felt or well feigned surprize. "Pray leave me, I told you not to wait, why did you?"

"I would have waited all night, for now I can get a kiss at least." "Don't, there are people coming." — Before the words were out of her mouth I'd snatched one, and she pushed me off. Then I offered the watch again, and pressed her, still not using the plain language of love to scare her, but she refused. — "Let me drive you part of the way home — you needn't tell me where it is." — She at last consented to that, but no cab was likely to be in that quiet street, so I led her in the direction I wanted till I got one, then in it I pressed and prayed her to have wine with me. — The cabman stopped at the corner of a street I had named. — "This isn't my way home," said she. "My lovely girl come and have a glass of wine with me, and that watch is yours." — "I won't, I dare not" — and so on for a minute or two. — Then, "I can't stop long," much more was said hurriedly by us both, and in a fairly comfort-able bedroom in three minutes were we.

I ordered sherry expecting poor stuff, but knowing there would be spirit in it to stir her lust and heat her cunt still more, if that pretty slit happened to be al-ready yearning for a stretch. — Bacchus always helps Venus. She took two glasses of the wine which was very palatable, and then at my request took her cloak and bonnet off. "What for? I can't stop long" — as if she supposed that I had brought her into a bedroom only to take wine. "You told me that perhaps you wouldn't leave your friend before nine o'clock." - "Yes but her son would have put me into a cab." — "So will I when we have been on the bed together." — "Oh! — what next?" — said she hurriedly and looking at me, then at the bed in a restless excited way. Then she turned round, took off her gloves, and put them into her pocket in a way which I scarcely noticed at the time, but which occurred to me afterwards. I produced the watch. — "There my sweet girl, — what is your name? That's yours if you'll let me." — She took it eagerly. — It was in a case, and whilst looking at it sitting on a chair close by me, I suddenly put a hand up her petticoats, and felt her naked thigh near to her motte, thro the opening of her drawers which unfortunately she'd worn. — "Oh — don't — you shan't," said she dropping the watch and case on the floor and standing up. I am a practised hand in assaulting cunts, having done this to scores of women, and altho surprized for the instant at her unexpected energy in resisting, dropped on my knees, clutched her round her petticoats with my left hand, and thrust higher that which had been dislodged, till the forefingers to the knuckles were well between the ridges of her split. I felt its heat and moisture, as her thighs closed on my fingers tightly. The next instant she had got away from me, and we had knocked both chairs over in a scuffle. In half a minute all these movements were done and over.

It was no sham, her surprize and struggle, tho she must have known I'd brought her there to fuck her. — Our walk, talk, my delicate suggestions, the offer of the watch, must have taught her that. I expect she'd got her cunt heated, her lust set simmering, — and perhaps also I was pleasing to her — but hadn't counted consequences for she was evidently and truly scared. For the instant I thought her a possible virgin. "Non-sense love, let me feel your delicious cunt." — The first straight baudy word I had said. — "Oh! I must go, I don't want the watch" — I thought I should not succeed, for she moved off from me as I approached her, keeping her face towards me till her back touched the bed. — Now, wild with desire for her and reckless in my lust, I picked up the watch, put it on the table, and pulled out my prick, which was big as a rolling pin and ruby tipped. — "Don't be foolish my darling" — I tried to allay her fears. — "None can know, but we two" — and so on. A woman with a melting cunt can be talked into any belief which runs with her voluptuous desires. "How lovely your cunt felt, let me feel it again — there's a darling — do feel my prick. — You knew now, don't fib, you knew when you came, that I meant to fuck you — don't be foolish. — I'm sure you want it." — Thus using all the lecherous persuasions and endearments which nature taught me, which come to me readily and naturally at such times, and I sup-pose to other men — I went nearer to her puffing out my pego further and the whole of my ballocks, so that her eyes might be gratified to the full with the sight of the Priapean glory.

She stood with her bum against the bed, looking at my prick, then in my face, and then away as if ashamed at being seen looking at my tool — then again at the red tipped stiff stander, and so on; motionless, silent at first. Then in soft broken sentences as I poured forth my loving prayers, and lustful incitements. — "Oh — I didn't — no — I can't — I'm frightened. — I'm sorry I came, — I don't want the watch. — I won't let you — let me go" — and still her eyes wandered restlessly from mine to my prick. With male instinct, I felt sure that my prick was exciting her, and closing on her, I threw one arm round her neck and kissed and coaxed, in frank, strong, concupiscent phrases, no longer mincing words. Prick, cunt, fuck, spunk, and the choicest of the vocabulary of love, in undisguised carnal strength I uttered. She still refusing, but letting me kiss her, her voice getting gentler, fainter and fainter, as she said, "No — I mustn't — really." — Suddenly, "Tell me the truth, are you married?" — "My darling what does it matter whether either of us is married or not? — feel my prick, feel how stiff it is, it will spend outside unless you let me put it into your sweet lovely cunt — feel it."

Taking her little hand, I placed my pego in it. Softly but modestly she held it in silence as I stood face to face with her. "Let me feel that lovely cunt again." She made no reply, and half stooping I began hitching up her petticoats, then letting go my prick, she pushed them down gently. "Oh — no — don't" — with a stoop and a grab I got my hand on to her cunt, my fingers well between the slippery pink lipped slit, and edging myself to her side held her to me whilst I began titillating it. "Lay hold of my prick — feel it love." — With-out relinquishing her notch, I took my hand from her waist, placed her hand round my swollen cunt rammer, and again she held it; and so we stood in lascivious talk and handlings, in all the quiet delight which the feel of each other's fornicating organs, give man and woman when under the influence of Venus. What luscious, heavenly play it was, by the light of two poor candles and a bit of fire. Gently I frigged her hoping to intoxicate her with passion till resistance was impossible. Sometimes my fingers slid back, wetting them-selves in her cunt, already self lubricated by its longings for the friction of the tool she held in her hand. Then my fingers titillated her clitoris again, till I heard the sweet significant murmurs which a woman gives, when her cunt insists on its full gratification, on that delight which a stiff prick and a scrotum full of sperm can give it. That soft murmur of pleasure accompanied by the delicate agitation of belly and thighs, almost like a ripple, which comes with it when the cunt sends voluptuous thrills thro the woman, and urges her to submit and let the prick up it — to let her cunt spend its juices, whilst the balmy liquid throbs out from the ballocks, and the prick with gentle thrusts mingles the love essences of cunt and prick together, in the lovely warm soft recipient. "Come on to the bed darling, get on it," — I knew that she now was filled with desire, unconscious almost of ought but strong sexual wants, ready to obey her eager cunt — to let me fill it. —"No — no — I'm frightened — I am really," was all she murmured softly. Letting go of the moist, hot chasm of her belly and withdrawing my Priapus from her soft hand, I turned her round and gently helped her on to the bed. In silence she mounted it, and by her side I laid myself, pulling up her clothes to see her limbs, much hidden alas by the accursed drawers, then through the opening in the damned white linen, for an instant roved my hand over thigh, belly and motte, my fingers plunged up the lubricious avenue to her womb, meeting no obstacle and expecting none. Then twisting my fingers in the soft curls, then settling them on her clitoris, then rapidly running them over every part, in the portals of her womb, now drew back nearly to the entrance lips. Her lovely moist avenue closed up as my prick receded, its folds stretched out as it plunged back again. Then quicker I fucked as pleasure stimulated me. "Aha." — My sperm was boiling in my balls, my prick urged by them on to furious haste, now plunged frantically to and fro quicker and quicker, too quick alas, but my seething sperm would have it so, her thirsty cunt would have it so. — On it went plunging, searching, probing her lovely tube which now yielded, yet compressed it and more. — "Ahaa — ahar" — I hear her gently sigh, giving first signs of increasing pleasure, her pretty mouth opens, my tongue touches hers, it's the first wet kiss we have had. — "Aha — ar — a." — My prick tip's found the nook of nooks close to her womb, it's lodged, it's buried there alive and keeps there nestling; the frantic thrusts are over, short pushes and nestling wriggles come now. "Aha — my darling — I'm coming — I'm, ha — spending — my spunk's corn — fuck — ahear — ah — ahr." — "Aha," she sighs, gently and sympathetically as she murmurs, her belly heaves, her thighs rise up, a delicate tremor runs thro her belly, burn and thighs, as a torrent of hot spunk rises up from my balls and thro my prick. — Its knob feels bursting with the throbs of pleasure, as it shoots the spunk into her cunt, whilst nestling its tip closer and closer to her womb. Sympathetically, greedily, her cunt tightens, grinds and sucks the tip of my hot stiff member, anxious to let her womb imbibe the balmy mucilage. Then our pleasure sighs and murmurs slowly cease, our bellies move with delicious tremors, but the climax of our sensuous joy is over, the delirium of the ecstatic gush is gone, the pleasure throes ceased. There, my prick still swollen, lays soothed and wallowing in its spermy bath. Her voluptuous cunt, gorged and flooded with the lubricious emulsion from my testicles, no longer closes energetically on my prick, but every second gives a gentle throb, and gentler squeeze, as if grateful to its pleasure giver. So we lay silent, tranquil in each other's arms, exhausted with our sensuous delights, faint with joys of love, slowly dissolving the sweet junction of our bodies in lubricious liquidity, whilst luscious thoughts on love, prick, cunt, and fucking, float dreamily through our brains.

Her passions quieted, the lustful irritation of her cunt allayed by the soothing injection, now slowly absorbing the soft balmy fluid, she laid motionless, with eyes closed, her bosom yet gently palpitating. She looked so lovely, that desire awakened at once afresh in me. So exquisite had been my enjoyment of her, that as I now looked at her beautiful face, as my dwindling prick withdrew, and as her cunt gave an affectionate parting squeeze, that my lingering pego gave a sudden throb and ceased shrinking. Tightly I grasped her bum, squeezing my pego closer into her lubricated temple, and putting one hand between our bellies, felt the curls of our genitals twining together in the glutinous over-flow of our spendings. — With sudden energy then she roused herself, like one just awakening. — "Oh! — get off — let me get up — do pray now — let me wash — for Heaven's sake do" — and she struggled to get from under me.

A pretty woman never looks more lovely to me, than when just fucked and I lay incorporate with her. The flushed face, the humid eyes, the recollection of the pleasure barely over which she has given me, and I to her endear her to me, filling me with a sense of love and gratitude. I feel this often with the ordinary Paphian, altho I know she may have gratified hundreds and perhaps I may not really have gratified her. Yet I have seen dozens of men spite of their sexual trans-ports, when their pleasure was over leave the women as soon as possible, neither kissing, endearing, or scarcely speaking to them. The cunt had done its work and off they went. The woman was nothing to them.

So Alice looked to me more beautiful than before, and I held her tightly, hating to break our sweet conjunction, my prick enjoying its cuntal bath, and even swelling again in it at the idea of losing it. "Oh! pray let me get up, or perhaps I shall be ruined." — My selfishness struck me, I might have impregnated her, for never a hotter prick and cunt had spent on each other. So I rolled off, but as I did so grasped the whole surface of her cunt, lewed still, lasciviously delighted in covering my fingers with our spending. Then I lay handling my prick with semenalized fingers, it seemed almost like feeling her and watched her wash that cunt, which ten minutes before had been refused me, and yet had rapturously spent as it felt the emulsion from my pego. Not a word was spoken. She finished the rinsing, stood up, let her clothes drop, and stared at me. "You've not dried it," said I. —She stood looking ashamed. — "Rub it dry, or you'll wet your drawers." — She turned her back and dried it with a towel, then turned round. "I must go."

Off the bed I jumped. — "No love, I'm going to fuck you again, you needn't go away till nine o'clock, I won-der if the watch is broken, it's yours." — Taking it up I found it going, the case had saved it. — Giving her a kiss I put the watch into her hand. She looked long at it. — Giving her a kiss I put the watch into her hand. She looked long at it. "I wish I'd never seen it and hadn't met you, perhaps I'm ruined through it — how can I account for having it." — "We'll think of that presently — sit down and have another glass of wine." — Saying that, I drew off my trowsers which were falling to my heels, threw off coat and waistcoat, and pulling two chairs in front of the fire we both sat down.

I put my arm round her kissing her, and for the first time got a kiss in return. No woman can refuse one to a man who has just fucked her. I talked about our pleasure in baudiest language, whilst she listened smiling, yet seemingly half ashamed and almost in silence. Then my hand sought her sexual treasure and her resistance was the merest sham. My fingers lodged between the pretty hirsute ridges, tickled by their curly fringe, whilst the tips rubbed gently the satiny nymphae and little clitoris. Then it roved over motte, and belly and thighs towards the smooth haunches, where the infernal drawers caught my wrist and hindered its advance. "Take off your drawers dear." — "Oh no — I won't — I must be going." — "Not till I've seen that lovely cunt — let me." — Now she resisted, but a woman never long refuses a view of her cunt to the man who has fucked it, unless conscious of some defect; but few think that of their cunts. I'm sure that unless they be whores, that women don't know an ugly cunt from a pretty one, they haven't seen many full grown ones, and think well enough of their own. — Whores at times resist a close inspection of their splits, they know the difference in cuntal physiognomies for they've seen many cunts besides their own.

Irritated I pushed my hand roughly, the drawers hitched, stretched and tightened on my wrist. — "Oh don't" — I pushed harder, with a crack something gave way, the drawers loosened, and my hand slipped round towards her buttocks. — "There now — you've broken the string — what shall I do?" — She stood up half turning towards me and feeling underneath her petticoats. I gave a gentle pull, the drawers slipped down her thighs, that hand went round her backside, the other did the same, and they nearly touched each other on the slopes to the bum furrow, as they grasped two deliciously smooth, firm, hemispheres of flesh. By that time, through standing up and moving, the drawers had slipped down below her knees, whilst still I felt her delicious backside, holding her close to me as I sat. Then she sitting down wriggling her bum, and complaining of what I had done, I helped her to disengage her ankles from their linen encumbrance. One of the strings had come off.

[Several women's drawers I have treated in similar manner, once or twice have violently torn them off and rent them in doing so. It's the only way with a woman who won't remove the useless cunt wipers. Drawers are better not looked at when torn off.]

The field was clear, rapidly I knelt in front of her (always do this) and kissed her thighs up to her notch. What a delicious odour was around the spot; odour of cunt and sweetest young flesh combined. Grasping her buttocks whilst I kissed and inhaled spite of her struggles, the exciting aroma stiffened my pego. When I like the smell of the woman there, it always does. Rising and showing its crimsoning plum shaped top. "Look dear, it's longing for your lovely cunt." I placed her hand around it, and as before, she held it till I sat down by her side. Then turning towards each other with my arm round her neck, in silence kissing, we resumed feeling those blessed carnal implements of concupiscence, I gently feeling between the plump ridges of her cunt, she nervously feeling my stiff pego, with a soothing but not frigging motion; both now in silent voluptuous reverie.

"Let me see it, you must, you shall." Vain refusals, words not meant. Gently I led her to the bed, placed her on it, opened full sized, handsome, well shaped, white fleshed thighs, and saw one of the prettiest cunts I ever set eyes on, smallish, youthful looking, with fullish ridges rather than lips, tho lips they were, with a well defined red coral line between them, but without protuberances, and fringed with short curly chestnut coloured hair, which also covered slightly a fat motte. Praising it rapturously, she let me move her limbs to see this delicate bit of nature's workman-ship; but saying, "Don't" (they always say that) yielding, pleased with my rapturous praises, proud of the admiration of her sexual charms. Then by her side I lay, our hands crossed each other's and we felt our sexual organs, till both were ready for another fuck. "Take off your clothes love, let's do it properly, my belly can't meet yours with your stays on." — Refused at first, yet I prevailed. "I'll only take my stays off" — I helped them off, and then off went one petticoat, for she was warmly clad, and off I pulled drawers.

Then one hand on her cunt, the other round her neck just touching with finger points one of a lovely pair of breasts, talking of love and fucking, how my prick throbbed as one hand roved restlessly from thighs to belly, then to bum, seeking the furrow of its cheeks, feeling her bum-hole, then up her cunt, and into every crack and nook and cranny of her body, kissing and odourous even to her armpits, so enchanted, enraptured, was I with her, so ruttish. Then my fingers settled on her clitoris whilst her hand still held my prick, and whispering, "Let's do it love." She turned upon her back, and opened her thighs. With one look at the red slit, its lips held wide apart by my fingers; with one gentle lick of her pretty clitoris, I dropped on to her belly now naked, clasped her lovely ivory buttocks, my fingers meeting in their valley, and then midst mutual sighs of pleasure, I buried my glowing prick up to its balls, in her thirsty, longing cunt.

I shall never forget with what delight I began to and fro friction, that oscillation of my arse, that searching of my tool, met by the gentle heaves of her soft belly. Our tongues now met, her bashfulness was gone, lubricious felt her cunt as it yielded to my thrusts, "Ahaa, my love, my prick's up your cunt, isn't it nice?" "Ah — y — hess — ahaa" — quicker moved my prick now stimulated by her pleasure, — now I gave frantic pushes, as my prick got almost painfully turgid — her backside heaved to me, her thighs moved up round mine, as she felt the approaching voluptuous delirium of her senses "Are you coming love?" — "Y — hes — aher." — Her belly is quivering, her thighs clip mine, my prick settles at her womb, our backsides, bellies, and thighs, quiver together in our spasms of delight, we clasp each other tighter, her hand grips on my naked backside, my bursting prick shoots forth hot spunk with pulsating throbs into her cunt, which tight-ens, grinds, and sucks it with combined sensations of muscilaginous injection floods it, and the soft spendings come out from every pore of its lovely surface to mix with mine. Then again we die away in each other's arms in blissful, voluptuous silence. Ah! what a death to die, if death would come in such a shape.

I felt that I should like to lie within her for ever, but after short repose, whilst our wet lips were still meeting, she got off rapidly and washed away the evidences of our love. She piddled, and had not before done so, and now, our intimacy was complete, by fucking, feeling, cunt washing, and piddling before me. The joy of sexual partnership is only complete when modesty is gone. — Modesty! — a convention. There is none naturally either in man or woman, but the sham has its charm, for it gives the pleasures of destroying it, and yielding it.

Excepting in early manhood when my sperm reservoirs seemed always full, the second fuck tranquillized me, but my recuperative power always with a nice fresh woman, or one whose sweet body I much liked, enabled me to separate the soft lips of her belly cleft with a rigid pego, a third time within the hour, and then I needed longer rest. This vital power of fucking thrice in sixty minutes I still have (and have now, eight years later). The second combat I find usually tranquillizes the lady, the fucking fatigues a woman less than a man. — Alice — the name she gave me — seemed now quiet and thoughtful, as she sat by my side by the fire. I put her cloak over her, coals on the fire, got two more candles from the baud, took more sherry and gave Alice more. I had still strong desire for the beautiful creature, still had that sense of fullness in my balls, that redness, heat, and lustful voluptuous irritation in my gland; which foretold more fucking soon.

She took the watch off the mantel-piece after sitting silent for a time, looked at it attentively, and then at the fire. I guessed her thoughts. Said she, "What can I tell about getting it?" — I have advised several of her sex what lies to tell under similar difficulties, and nearly always the same lie. The watch taken in a case, had been returned to my hands in a little wash-leather bag. Reminding the maker of that, he found the case, and I just then wanting a leather watch bag, put the one into my pocket. — "Put the watch into this, then lay it in the mud, say you saw the handle shining and picked it up." — "That's what I have been thinking," she rejoined. "But if they don't believe me?" — "Stick to it and they will." — with a sigh, — "I can't say any-thing else, but must keep it a few days first. — I'm frightened tho." "Name a spot where you found it." — "I will." — "Your husband will be glad you've got a watch" (trying to catch her). She smiled, and said she wished she had never seen it. — "But I have, and there's no help for it, now I must go." — "No dear, not till we've done it again." — She shook her head. I wish I knew what passed thro her mind just then, but feel sure that the desire for another cunt plugging detained her, tho she wanted to be off. The risk, the baudiness, the treat of the afternoon, the newness of the prick, affected her. In for a penny in for a pound perhaps. So we talked on, trying to entrap each other into telling who and what we were, but in both cases unsuccessfully.

I was going to my club when I met this fair creature, and having eaten nothing since breakfast, my stomach reminded me. I said I felt hungry. — "So am I, they did not ask me to stop and dine." — Meat at an unknown baudy house was out of the question, so I sent for Bath buns, the only thing I could for the moment think of as likely to be good, and for more sherry tho the bottle wasn't finished. I determined to ply her with wine hoping to make her speak about herself. We stuffed ourselves with buns, she took more sherry, which perhaps added a little heat to her already hot lusting quim, but it never made her communicative about herself. We went on talking about fucking, she making few replies, but laughing and reprimanding me. — "What do you laugh for if you are offended?" — "I can't help it." — Nothing is really more pleasing, more stimulating to modest women, than to have a man talk baudy to them.

Her petticoats now covered her legs, for she had again become as modest as she was before her quim had tasted my stretcher, but I could just see her shapely calves and little feet. The street mud, thickish and greasy, was on her boot soles, but had caused no splashes. I love to see a woman sitting by a fire, with petticoats so far up that the flesh of the thighs just shows, and I pulled them up so. Whenever I did she said she must go, but sat down when I told her that she must then go by herself. Some modest women I have found, dislike much going out of a baudy house alone. She hoped no one had seen her come into the house, and if ever I saw her anywhere again, that I'd take no notice of her. I promised, but she must meet me again. She started. — "Oh never — never — never, — oh! my God! don't ask me — never now." — She seemed horrified at the suggestion. Who and what was she? Fucked she'd certainly been before, but whether wife, widow, mistress or neither I couldn't say (and never could). I am sure she wasn't a gay lady. Perhaps she was married and coquettish, and the offer of the watch had tempted her, just as her cunt was hot and longed for a male, which conjunction made her come to my arms. That is all quite probable, for a randy cunt weakens a woman's moral force. But women are inscrutable in their ways and lusts.

Then I put my hands on her breasts, a beautiful white pair. I could see their upper half, but with modesty still lingering (and certainly she was modest spite of her yielding to me). She tried to hide them; it was instinct, habit, and not sham. But praising their beauty rapturously as I did, and in my excited, lustful admiration of her, she yielded, and quietly I handled the firm globes, and felt the little bush in her armpits, (which smelt as lovely as the rest of her body) talking baudily all the time. Then I tickled her there, which seemed to win her to me more. Tickling increases the lust of some women, when once their voluptuous thoughts have begun, and the randy thrills are attacking their cunts. — Then I sucked one pretty small nipple, which I saw had never nourished an infant, and told her so. Thus our loving familiarity increased, she gradually surrendering to all my wishes, silent, and seemingly reflecting.

As I spoke about suckling, — "Has she had a child?" — passed through my brain. I had been too excited before to notice her belly, so dropped on my knees again, and kissed her thighs, and lifting her clothes, saw her smooth white belly without a sign or mark of childbirth on it. I don't think she knew what I was up to. Then kissing, and sniffing the aroma from that warm nest, stiffened my pego, and as I got up I showed it to her. She laughed.

Sitting down by her side again, I pulled my shirt well up to let my prick be visible, tho now drooping a bit, and felt her lovely cunt. The fire blazed, the room got hot, the food, the wine, my kissing, my fingering her love trap, and baudy talk during an hour which had run away, had stirred her passions. I praised her cunt, its beauty and sweet odour, and a desire to gamahuche arose in me, for hers was not the cunt of a gay woman, and I wondered if a tongue had ever given pleasure there. So I talked of the pleasure of that lingual exercise and asked her to let me. She refused

— it was dirty talk — she wouldn't. — The more she refused, the more I longed to gamahuche her, begged, prayed, insisted, extolling the pleasures it gave as higher far than those from fucking; kissing and groping her all the time, till at length with my ballocks in her hand, she listened quietly and ceased saying, "No

— I won't let you."

Then gently I led her to the bed, and tho she still refused it she did not resist me, was passive in my hands, and seemed ashamed and looked away, and not at me whilst she yielded and I placed her on the bed. Next minute I was kneeling on the floor, her thighs laying over my arms were wide apart, my hands clasping her lovely buttocks, her sacred sexual gap, that temple of Venus and love was open wide, and covered by my mouth which revelled in it. I opened my lips wide, so that I could cover the whole of the soft crimson surface of that entrance of the body, for I felt madly in love with her, was beauty struck and cunt struck as well, and delighted with the idea of giving her pleasure. I licked, then sucked, then licked again; from bum hole to her curly covered mons my tongue played lasciviously, I licked her thighs. I licked her navel, intoxicated with her sweetness, then plunged my tongue as far up her cunt as it could reach, and loved the taste, revelled in its odour, and in the sweet salinity of its exudations which lust now caused to issue. Then my tongue settled to the little clitoris, and on it and around it licked, till with a jerk of her belly she asked me to leave off. But holding her thighs firmly, I played my tongue with the agility of a serpent, and in a few seconds more, with a gentle heave up of her sweet cunt, with a shudder of her belly and a murmur of pleasure, she spent.

I arose, her thighs dropped down, the cunt ridges slightly closed, but ridges, motte, and all their curly fringe were soaked with my saliva, whilst opalescent moisture issuing from the furrow between the lips, shewed she'd enjoyed the lingual that I'd given her. Then pushing her on the bed, feeling her lubricious avenue, frigging her quietly so as to reanimate her passions, and rouse again the lustful heat of her cunt, making her feel my pego and talking my baudiest, for several minutes I lay, whilst she quite silent submitted to all, fatigued with pleasure, yet getting slowly lewed in body again under my titillations. She must have been like me on heat that day. Then when she drew her cunt back with a voluptuous sigh, I knew she would take it up her, and again fucked her. Ah? with what delirium of sexual enjoyment, for I loved her.

It was approaching nine o'clock, she dressed in silence, whilst for a time I tried to induce her to meet me again, but uselessly. Whilst listening to my advice again about telling how she found the watch, she put her hand in her pocket, took something out, put her other hand to it, and then with a start as if she had forgotten what she was about, put it back into her pocket. Then it came suddenly to my mind that early in the evening she put something into her pocket rapidly, and turned away from me as she did so. — "You were going to put your wedding ring on," said I. —"I wasn't — I have no ring" — and she looked confused. — "Let me feel in your pocket," and I tried to do so. — "You shan't — you've no right," she shrieked out, and I desisted. — Then we joked once more about marriage, as to which, or whether either of us was married, and there it ended.

We left together. Before doing so I put my head up her petticoats, gave her cunt a parting kiss, and should have liked to have bitten her clitoris off and swallowed it, so madly did I feel in love with her. She had plenty of money (none from me). I put her into a cab, and neither listened to the address she gave, nor followed her — as I had given my word — much as I longed to do so, and have never seen her since. — She said it wasn't likely that I ever should, but not why (many a day since I've thought of and longed for her, and she is one of my most delicious reminiscences).

The watch had my sister's initials and the maker's name on it. I told my sister I had lost it and gave her a new watch. Alice was worth a dozen watches I still think.

She was of an uncommon type of beauty, had light chestnut hair which crimped naturally, blue eyes with heavy eye brows, and long eye lashes. She had beautiful teeth, a small mouth, was well grown, well formed, was neither stout nor thin, and in brief was in that perfect condition, which a healthy woman of about two and twenty years arrives at, after a year's fucking. Her cunt was small, youthful and pretty. — Neither nipple nor belly showed signs of childbirth, yet she'd been fucked before I had her.

[This narrative is almost word for word as I wrote it within a few days after I had possessed this lady. I was so delighted with the adventure that I could think of nothing else for some days, and walked over the same ground in the vain hope of meeting her again. Writing the narrative gave me the utmost delight, as I recalled each form and feature of the beauty, each voluptuous act, almost each sensuous word I uttered, acts and words I am sure both enjoyed. — Who and what was she?]