My Secret Life

The butler came back with the medicine, I threw it down the closet, and went down to the dining-room. In an hour or so, I rang for some tea (how was I to get him out of the way again?). I went to my bed-room, rang; up came Molly. “Let us do it again.” “I won't, you have insulted me.” “Bring me a great can of hot water.” Then I rang for all sorts of odd things, making believe I had a bad attack of colic, showing her my prick each time, till she let me do it at the edge of the bed. Her cunt had been well washed. We were quiet, afraid of being overheard, a woman knows how to avoid being compromised when she has once intrigued, — but the poor girl was in an agony of fear.

“I've been into the nursemaid's room”, said I, “and there is the mark of some one having been on the bed-edge.” “Well it's not me.” She stuck out that she had been in the room alone. “Why there at all?” She had only passed through the room to piddle.

In the afternoon I called the butler, and sent him to the village again, to get me another mixture. In the dining-room I rang, and Molly answered. “I am going to ring in my room again”, said I, “you come.” No she would not. I went up and rang.

The cook answered my bell. What a baulk ! but I was equal to it, — the cook had no business to come up, it was Molly's place. “Do you think that Mrs. Brown or Pender, or some one on the farm has got anything good for diarrhoea?” “I'll go and see”, said she good-naturedly. I knew she must be gone ten minutes, or a quarter of an hour.

I followed her downstairs, soon rushed into the kit- chen, bolted the kitchen-garden entrance, laid hold of Molly, whose horror was extreme at the idea of being caught, and I fucked her in the butler's pantry, where he slept. With my cock dripping as I pulled it out, I ran up to my room. She had just had time to unbolt the door before the cook appeared, and she brought me some medicine from Mrs. Pender, which of course went down the closet.

I went to my bed-room, revelling in the intrigue of the day, and wondering how often Fred had had her, and whether that day was the first time. Whenever my cock grew stiff I rang for Molly, and showed it to her. She grew demoralized at the constant sight of the cock, but there was no time for a fuck; I promised her a new bonnet to get me another opportunity. In a couple of hours she came, I had a voluptuous caprice, turned her belly on the bed, her rump towards me, for a fuck from behind. She objected, “What are you going to do? You can't do anything like that.” “Yes my love, easily.” “I don't like my clothes up like that.” Two or three times I had to turn her round before she was quiet, and then we consummated. Molly was astonished. She had never been tailed in that attitude before I am sure.

It was about eleven o'clock when Fred and the others had set forth; they returned to a late dinner. I had fucked Molly five or six times. Then I went to bed, my aunt and cousins came up to me, and were so kind. So was Fred, who told me all about the inspection, and never suspected my game in the least, nor any one else. The last words I said to Molly that day were, “Fred has fucked you.” Again she swore that he never had. To keep up the deception and excuse my staying at home, I had eaten scarcely anything all day, and felt I recollect awfully hungry when a bed.

The empty pleasure of occasionally showing my doodle to Molly was all I could get afterwards. Nelly or Sophy -I forget which—I got to the baudy house at ***; whichever of the two it was, came half wet through with muddy boots and under-linen which so upset me that I did not poke. The servant who had been ill came back to the Hall, and Molly left. I had Pender (whose belly was then showing its intentions awfully) up against the gate opposite her cottage one wet night (but “cock and cunt will come together”). Said she in the slight interval between our meeting, fucking, and parting, “If that gal Molly is not in the family way,-her mother's found it out, — oh ! such a row.” That accounted for Molly looking depressed.