The Sex Diary of a
Vol. 9 Chapter XIV
[I find that the narrative about Sappho and Raffaella has been placed more than a year too early. What immediately now follows and more should have been placed before it. — This error no doubt is caused by sorting, selecting, and destroying manuscript, with the object of abbreviating.]
H*l*n and I now began to understand each other (tho not yet perfectly). She knew I was not easily humbugged, so abandoned largely Paphian devices, treated me as a friend, and her circumstances compelling her to avoid male friends, and not liking females much, and it being a human necessity to tell some one about oneself, I became to some extent her confidant. She then had a charming, well furnished little house, replete with comfort, and her own. I at times dined with her there. She was beautifully clean, you might have eaten off her kitchen boards, and the same throughout the house. She was an excellent cook, cooked generally herself and liked it, was a gourmet. It was delightful to see her sitting at table, dressed all but a gown, with naked arms and breasts showing fully over a laced chemise, with her lovely skin and complexion, eating, and drinking my own wine, she passing down at intervals to the kitchen. We eat and drank with joy and baudy expectation, both of us — for she wanted fucking. — Every now and then I felt her thighs and quim, kissing her, showing my prick, anxious to begin work even during our dinner.
Afterwards adjourning to her bedroom, we passed the evening in voluptuous amusements — we had then but few scruples in satisfying our erotic wishes. — Soon after had none. — How she used to enjoy my gamahuching, and after a time abandoning herself to her sensations she'd cry out, "Aha — my God — aha — fuck spunk" — and whatever else came into her mind, quivering her delicious belly and thighs, squeezing my head with them, clutching my hair, as her sweet cunt heaved against my mouth when spending, till I ceased from tongue weariness. Sometimes this with my thumb gently pressing her bum hole, which after a time she liked much. Then what heavenly pleasure as I put my prick up her, and grasping her ivory buttocks, meeting her tongue with mine, mixing our salivas, I deluged her cunt with sperm. — Never have I had more pleasure with any woman, with few so much.
Resting, we talked of her baudy doings and mine — of the tricks of women. — We imagined baudy possibilities, planned voluptuous attitudes, disclosed letches, suggested combinations of pleasure between men and women, and woman with woman — for Eros claimed us both. In salacity we were fit companions, all pleasures were soon to be to us legitimate, we had no scruples, no prejudices, were philosophers in lust, and gratified it without a dream of modesty.
One day I told her again of the sensitiveness of my pego, that with a dry cunt the friction of fucking some-times hurt me, that my prick at times looked swollen and very red, unnaturally so. — French harlots — more than others — I found washed their cunts with astringents, which my prick detected in them directly, so when I was expected, I wished H. not to wash hers after the morning, her natural moisture then being so much pleasure to my penis. — No saliva put there, is equal to the natural viscosity, mucosity of the surface of a vagina. — But from her scrupulously cleanly habits, I had great difficulty in getting her to attend to this.
That led one day to her asking, if I had ever had a woman who had not washed her quim after a previous fucking. She then knew my adventure with the sailor, that at Lord S's, and at Sarah F**z*r's — but not the recent one at N**l*e L*le's. — I told her that I had not with those exceptions. — "I'll bet you have without knowing." She told me of women where she had lived, merely wiping their cunts after a poke, and having at once another man, and of its not being discovered; of she herself once having had a man fuck her, and his friend who came with him, insisting on poking her instantly afterwards.
We talked soon after about the pleasure of fucking in a well buttered cunt, and agreed that the second fuck was nicer if the cunt was unwashed. I racked my memory, and recollected cases where I had had suspicions of having done so. H*l*n who always then washed her quim, again said it was beastly. — I said that if more agreeable to me and the woman, there was nothing beastly in it; nor cared I if there was, fucking being in its nature a mere animal function, tho in human beings augmented in pleasure, by the human brain. "So why wash after, if the two like it other-wise?"
About that time I found I had not quite as much sperm as in early middle age, testing that by frigging myself over a sheet of white paper, and wished to see what a young man spent both in quality and quantity. We chatted about this at times, and one day she told me she had a man about thirty-five years old, who visited her on the sly, but very occasionally; a former lover who had spent a fortune on her (I know since his name, his family, and that what she told me was true). She let him have her still, for gratitude. He was very poor but a gentleman, and now he helped her in various ways. It struck me she liked him also, because he had as she told, a large prick. I found she had a taste for large pricks, and described those of her former friends who possessed such, in rapturous terms. This man spent much, I expressed a desire to see it, and after a time it was arranged that I should see this cunt prober, him using it, and her cunt afterwards, but this took some time to bring about. In many conversations, she admitted that she had not more physical pleasure from a great prick, than from an average sized one. "But it's the idea of it you know, the idea of its being big, and it's so nice to handle it."
I went abroad as said, the incidents there will be given hereafter. On return, I went soon to H. and told her what tricks I had been up to, and our conversation went to the subject of my sensitive prick and semenalized quims, those I'd seen, and what she had promised should come to pass.
One afternoon — this was some months later what I shall soon tell about — I was in her bedroom as arranged, he was to have her in the adjoining room. She placed the bed there, so that when the door was very slightly opened, I could see perfectly thro the hinge side. We were both undressed, she with delight de-scribing his prick, repeating her cautions to be quiet, and so on. — A knock at the street door was heard. "It's his," said she, and went down stairs. — Some time passed, during which I stood on the stair landing listening, till I heard a cough, — her signal — then going back and closing my door, I waited till they were up stairs and I heard them in the back room. Opening mine ajar again I waited till a second cough. Then in shirt and without shoes, I crept to their door which was slightly open.
They were sitting on the edge of the bed, she in chemise, he in shirt, feeling each other's privates. His back was half towards me, her hand was holding his large tool not yet quite stiff; but soon it grew to noble size under her handling. Then he wanted to gamahuche her, she complied, being fond of that pleasure as a preliminary. He knelt on the bed to do it, tho he'd wished to kneel on the floor. — She insisted on her way, to keep his back to me. So engrossed was he with the exercise, that when her pleasure was coming on, I pushed further open the door (hinges oiled) and peeping round and under, saw his balls, and that his prick was big and stiff — I was within a foot of him. — But he noticed nothing, all was silent but the plap of his tongue on her cunt, and her murmurs. When she had spent once, he laid himself by her side, kissing her and feeling her cunt, his stiff, noble pego standing against her thigh, — she puffing the prepuce up and down, and looking at the door crack. After dalliance prolonged for my gratification, he fucked her. She pulled his shirt up to his waist when he was on her, so that I might contemplate their movements. I heard every sigh and murmur, saw every thrust and heave, a delicious sight; but he was hairy arsed, which I did not like.
Then said she, "Pull it out, he'll wonder why I have been away so long; you go down stairs quietly, and I'll come soon." He uncunted, they rose, I went back to my room. He had been told that she was tricking the man then keeping her, and knew that a man was then in the house, and he there on the sly was happy to fuck her without pay — for he loved her deeply —and not at all expecting or knowing that his fornicating pleasures, were ministering to the pleasure of another man.
Then on the bedside she displayed her lovely secret charms — a cunt overflowing with his libation. — It delighted me, my pego had been standing long, I seemed to have almost had the pleasure of fucking her as I witnessed him, and now to fuck her, to leave my sperm with his in her, came over me with almost delirious lust. "I'll fuck you, I fuck in it." I cried trembling with concupiscent desire. — "You beast — you shan't." — I will." — "You shan't." But she never moved, and kept her thighs wide apart whilst still saying, — "No, no." — I looked in her face, saw that overpowering voluptuousness, saw that she lusted for it, ashamed to say it. "Did you spend?" — "Yes." — "I will fuck." — "You beast." — Up plunged my prick in her. — "Ahaa" — sighed she voluptuously as my balls clasped, and fucked quickly for my letch was strong. "Ain't we beasts," she sighed again. — "I'm in his sperm dear." — "Y — hes, we're beasts." The lubricity was delicious to my prick. "Can you feel his spunk?" — "Yes dear, my prick's in it. — I'll spend in his spunk." — "Y — hes — his spunk. — Aha — beasts." — All I had just seen flashed thro my brain.
— His prick, his balls, her lovely thighs, made me delirious with sexual pleasure. — "I'm coming — shall you spend H*l*n?" — "U — hes — push — hard — ahar."
— "Cunt — fuck spunk," we cried together in baudy duet her cunt gripped — my prick wriggled, shot out in sperm, and I sank on her breast, still holding her thighs and kissing her.
When we came to, we were both pleased. — "Never mind H*l*n if we are beasts — why say that if you like it?" — "I don't." — "You fib, you do." — After a time she admitted that the lasciviousness of the act, had added to the pleasure of coition greatly — to me the smoothness of her vagina seemed heaven. — I was wild to see all again, but circumstances did not admit of it then, yet in time I did, and one day after he and I had had her, "Go down to him," said I, "Don't wash, and let him have you again on the sofa." — The letch pleased her, he fucked her again, and thought he was going into his own leavings. When she came up, I had her again, I was in force that day. Her taste for this lubricity then set in, and stirred her lust strongly, — she was in full rut — I gamahuched her after she had washed, thinking where two pricks had been, and half an hour after she frigged herself. Whilst frigging, "Ah! I wish there had been a third man's spunk in it." — "You beast — ah — so — do I." — She rejoined as she spent, looking at me with voluptuous eyes.
We often talked of this afterwards, and agreed that the pleasure of coition was increased by poking after another man, and we did so when we could afterwards with her friend and others. Sometimes it is true she shammed that she allowed it only to please me, but her excitement when fucking told me the contrary. She liked it as much as I did, and it became an enduring letch with her.
Whether H*l*n or any other woman — I've known several who liked it — had increased physical pleasure by being fucked under such pudendal condition, it's not possible to say. — With me owing to the state of my gland, no doubt it did. But imagination is a great factor in human coition, and by its aid, the sexual pleasure is increased to something much higher than mere animalism. It is by the brain that fucking be-comes ethereal, divine, it being in the highest state of excitement and activity during this sexual exercise. It is the brain which evokes letches, suggests amatory preliminaries, prolongs and intensifies the pleasure of an act, which mere animals — called "beasts" — be-gin and finish in a few minutes. Human beings who copulate without thought and rapidly are like beasts, for with them it is a mere animal act. — Not so those who delay, prolong, vary, refine, and intensify their pleasures — therein is their superiority to the beasts — the animals. What people do in their privacy is their affair alone. A couple or more together, may have pleasure in that which others might call beastly — al-though beasts do nothing of the sort — but which to them is the highest enjoyment, physical and mental. It is probable that every man and woman, has some letch which they gratify but don't disclose, yet who would nevertheless call it beastly, if told that others did it, and would according to the accepted notions — or rather professions — on such matters, call all sexual performance or amusements beastly, except quick, animal fucking. But really it is those who copulate without variety, thought, sentiment or soul, who are the beasts — because they procreate exactly as beasts do, and nothing more. — With animals, fucking is done without brains — among the higher organized human beings, fucking is done with brains — yet this exercise of the intellect in coition is called beastly by the ignorant, who have invented a series of offensive terms, to express their objections. — Their opinion of the sweet congress of man and woman — which is love — is, that it should be a feel, a look, a sniff at the cunt, and a rapid coupling — very like beasts that!!!
END OF THE NINTH VOLUME.