My Secret Life

Opposite to Pender's was also a field-gate, I persuaded her to come out and stand there with me; the hedge hid anyone coming along the lane. “At the first sound of a footstep”, said I, “I will go into the field, and you can cross to your house.” I was longing for the woman, but scarcely thought I could do it after my day's fucking. The idea of putting my prick still wet with Whiteteeth's juices, into Pender's quim, stimulated me; my cock stood (in those days if it stood it was sure of doing duty). I closed up to her whispering love, and frigging her, she gradually getting be-sides herself with pleasure. At length up went my prick into her, and after a quarter of an hour's lamming, finished.

Meeting her husband in the lane might have cause suspicion, so into the field I went, intending to wait till he passed, laid down, fell asleep, awaking when it was broad daylight. I then waited two hours, walked round to the Hall, waited in the front till the door was opened, then went up to my room, and to bed. The servant saw me go in, and I imagine thought I had been out in the grounds without her knowing it, — certainly it never was known that I had been out all night.

I went to bed to rumple it, then down to breakfast, all the time thinking of some lie as an excuse for being out all night. “You were tired, and went to bed early I expect”, said aunt. “Yes,” said I. My limbs were aching from exposure to night-air, as I spoke.

Three days had made a great change in me. My prolonged abstinence from women, and now my recovery, my taking more to animal food, wine, and my usual mode of living, the quiet life I was leading, all my physical forces at their highest. My cock stood from morning till night, not a woman passed me, young or old, without my desiring them. I thought of nothing else, and to this perhaps is due the variety of poking I got. Luck usually falls to those who look out for it.

I have said there was a shrubbery round the grounds connecting with that from the Hall to the farm; quite on the other side of the Hall were the stables, and the gardener's house. None of the stablemen or gardeners were on the farm-side. The servants of the Hall slipped down to the farm to gossip, but it was not allowed. The only person who regularly traversed the shrubbery was Mrs. Pender, who twice a day took milk, and dairy produce to the Hall.

Half-way down this shrubbery-path was a path connecting with that which went quite round the grounds. Cunningly contrived, and leading out of it was one to a large privy, usual in such grounds as my aunt's. A large octagonal house covered with ivy, with a door and two glass windows, a house devoted to shitting, but large enough to hold a dozen people.

One or two days after I had had Whiteteeth and Pender, I dodged about after the latter, but there were people about. I went off to the hay-making, but there were only men carting hay; so I went sniffing about the servants in the house, but nothing came of that. In the afternoon I went to the farm-yard, and prowled about to find some chance, and place to get Pender, and went up into the big loft in the barn over the cart-shed. Why I went up there I don't know, and had not been there a minute before I heard a scuffle, and a kiss. “I shant, now—you saucy boy”, said a female voice. Another kiss, and a scuffle. “I must go to the house”, said the female. I peeped: it was a nursemaid, and my aunt's page. The girl ran off, leaving the page. They did not see me.

My aunt's male in-door servants consisted but of a middle-aged butler who had been in her service many years, a slow, solemn man, a widower, and a page taken on when small, who had recently grown rapidly, and was a heavy, stupid, gawky lad, between fifteen and sixteen years old, too big for his place. My aunt, although always intending to dismiss him, kept him on out of kindness, but at length had said, “Page must go, I shall not give him a new suit, it will be waste of money.” He looked stupid as an owl, and as if an idea about cunt would never have entered his mind.

This boy stood still reflecting, then unbuttoned his trowsers, pulled out a stiff, big prick, and after pulling the prepuce down once or twice, buttoned it up again; stood still, again unbuttoned, sat down on some straw, reflected, and then frigged himself. After wiping his fingers on the straw he went off, leaving me wondering at his lust, the size of his doodle, and the quantity of spunk he shot. “That lumpish boy to do that!” forgetting what I did, when only a little older than him.

“Hullo! what are you doing here?” said a voice. — it was Pender's. He made no reply. “You'd better be off to the Hall, you've no business here.” “I was fetching the nurse-maid.” “Well she's no business here; you cut, they will be ringing for you.” When the voices ceased I descended, and went to the Hall.