My Secret Life

She had married a man much more than double her own age, who poked her once in three weeks; this healthy, well-fed woman of twenty-three who wanted a nightly roger, and could have spent half-a-dozen times daily with ease. She now had got me, liked me, was ready to do anything with me or for me as I found out, and was sorry for it.

At six o'clock she was obliged to leave. We were both fucked out, and parted regretting that a month must pass before she could venture to go to her mother's again. I had left her enough to think about, for I fucked her in several attitudes. It gave me pleasure to teach her.

Next day Molly ran in my head, so I fished about to hook her. She had seemed to me so young, that I had taken but little notice of her; liking the fat-cunted, biggish-arsed females best. Now I noticed her being so plump and fresh, and wondered I had never noticed her previously. When I met her, I looked in her face thinking, “Innocent as you look, your cunt's been wetted by a man.” I longed for her, but she was nearly always in the farm-yard, either with her mother or Pender, when not assisting up at the Hall; but when a man hunts a woman he is sure to get a chance, as will be seen I did.

Just after I had Pender on the Sunday, an annoying thing accurred to me. Whiteteeth worked in all parts of the parish, and she just now came to do something on my aunt's grounds, — weeding I think. Catching her one day alone I took some liberty. She resisted sullenly, looked up, and nodding her head said, “You gave me a bad illness.” “What!” said I. “Did you not?” said she. I swore I had not; did she think me such a blackguard? — would she see my prick? “Then my damned old man's given it me, and he swears I gave it him”, said she. She had a clap. I never had her afterwards, and was told that lots of men had had her. Fred told me soon afterwards, that he had, but that she had been quite steady since her marriage, he believed. I didn't undeceive him.

When the farm-work was over Molly stood some-times at the lane-gate. Loitering about I saw a man named Giles there, who when he saw me moved off. I laid hold of her once or twice, kissed and made the usual approaches, at last got a hot fit of lust for her, and felt I would do anything to get her once. After two women with well-haired cunts I did nothing but picture to myself that she had a small cunt, and but little hair on it, like nursemaid's, — and the idea excited me.

I have already described the barn, step-ladder, and loft; the chickens sometimes flew up the ladder into the loft. I had seen Pender go up, and whisk them down. Looking about one afternoon (hay-making was again going on), no one seemed about, though Pender was in the dairy. I entered the barn from the brick yard side, just as Molly was going up the ladder, showing her legs innocently enough.

“What pretty legs”, I cried. The girl scuffled up as hard as she could to get out of sight, I after her. She was chasing some chickens, and was as red as a turkey-cock in the face. I caught hold of her, prick standing, heart beating, and kissed her. She resisted, I put my hand up her clothes, and in the struggle we both rolled on to a heap of loose hay; I had felt the flesh of her thighs. “Leave off”, said she, “or I'll call mother.” Her mother was then ill in the farm-house.

“Don't be a fool”, said I attempting it again. “Don't you do such things sir,-I'll call mother, it's wrong of you” “If you do”, said I brutally, “I'll tell your mother Giles fucked you in the field last week.”

Never shall I forget the look of the poor girl's face. “Oh !—oh!” said she breathless, “you didn't,-it's a story, oh ! now pray, — oh ! it's a shocking story, —I warn't in the field.” “Don't. — oh ! it hurts”, said I repeating other words which had been wandering through my brain ever since I heard them. “I heard you and the man say that.”

She began to cry, putting her head in her hands. “Let me do it, and I won't tell,-no one will know, and you won't tell Giles, that's certain.” She ceased crying, and fixed her eyes on me wildly, I got my hand up her clothes, her thighs were closed, she kept pushing me away, “No,-no,-no.” Forgetting where I was, or that anyone might come up the ladder, I had my prick out, and with a struggle got my hand on her cunt. “You won't tell, really now?” “Not if you let me.” A little more scuffling, and I had her down. She was quiet, and I was fucking with all the delight and energy which a fresh woman gives a man, when I heard “Molly, Molly” shouted out. With a violent start she uncunted me, and I spent over her motte. “Where are you such a long time Molly?” “There is a hen up here”, said Molly who had started up, “and I think she has laid, but can't find the egg.” And Molly disappeared down the ladder. “You're wanted up in the Hall”, said the voice, — it was Pender's;—their voices died away. How pleased Pender would have been had she known the condition of Molly's motte !