My Secret Life

A slight altercation,-what would Fred say? — the servants think ? — no she would not permit it, — she knew the games we should be up to. Mabel said, “No, —no, it wouldn't do.” The more they said no, the quicker I undressed, and with prick lifting up my shirt, forced myself into bed, by the side of Mabel. Laura jumped out the other side, her white legs showing half-way up her thighs as she did so.

She stood by the bed-side wrangling, and looking at me as randy as possible, spite of herself. I should not stay, — she would not go to bed. “Well my dear Laura, go up to our bed.” “I shant.” Tired of standing in the cold she said, “Well will you promise to keep quiet?” “Perfectly.” “Come on”, said Mabel, “Fred won't know.” So putting out the light into bed got Laura. Perhaps she thought she would like on the quiet to hear the amatory talk of Mabel and myself, — hear if she could not see or feel our tricks,-who knows?

“Turn your back to Mabel,-go to sleep Laura, — now you won't see or hear.” “You know your promise, —don't you let him Mabel.” “How can I help it?” said Mabel in a muddled manner. “You are a couple of dirty beasts”, said Laura turning her rump towards us. We heeded not, for we were fucking. Laura spoke not another word, she lay as if asleep. Then I fell fast asleep on the edge of the bed cuddling Mabel. It was close packing.

I awakened cold on one side, hot on the other next Mabel, who lay snoring profoundly. The regular breathing of Laura told me she was asleep. My prick was stiff, and as I thought of the two women by the side of me, it got ungovernable.

“How I should like a put into Laura”, I thought, but had a high sense of honor, and checked the desire. “What, Fred's woman?-for shame Walter. — Well (reflecting) he took my two women in the country. — Yes”, replied my conscience, “but nothing made them yours,-not completely at least, one had had another man, but Laura is his woman, his temporary wife, he is fond of her, he keeps her.” But my prick kept throbbing with desire to be up her.

I thought of Fred's description of the thick hair on her cunt, of the quickness with which she pissed, of all he had foolishly told me of her perfections, until my brain whirled. “There can't be any harm in just feeling her flesh, — no one will know.” I could only guess where she was in the darkness; but carefully stretching my hand over Mabel quite slowly, it touched a bunch of night-gown, and then warm flesh. She was lying on her back, Mabel had her rump towards her. I raised myself gently up to feel further, touched the hips, the thighs, then the smooth belly, further on, and my hand laid in the thick hair of her cunt.

Up to that time I had my reason, could reflect, pause, control myself; the woman of any friend of mine was safe from attack from me, but I had had a fancy that there had been once or twice in Laura's look and manner towards me, a slight gleam of de-sire; yet the idea of having her never had entered my head, I should have chased it instantly. But from the moment my hand lighted on the crisp thicket, reason left me, voluptuous desire overwhelmed me: I forgot Fred, almost forgot Mabel.

Slowly, inch by inch, I moved myself half up and my arm over Mabel as she lay, fearing it would wake her, and slid my finger down between Laura's cunt-lips, and gently frigged, listening to Mabel's snoring, and Laura's breathing. At length I must have produced a voluptuous sensation, she got restless, and opened her thighs, moved, clasped my hand, and in a peevish sleepy tone said, “Don't Mabel, — what are you doing?”

“It's I”; I whispered frigging on. “Oh !” said she pushing my hand away. “Oh ! if you wake Mabel.” She kept repulsing my hand saying “don't”, I replacing it. My hand frigging her clitoris.

She turned her backside towards Mabel, I then fumbled between her bum-cheeks; but she was too far off. Slowly I got out of bed, and feeling my way round the foot in the dark, I got to Laura's side. She heard me. I put my mouth to her ear, “Let me dear”, and thrusting my hand under the clothes felt her cunt from motte to bum-hole. “Oh ! no, if Mabel—” Mabel's snoring reassured me. Little by little I uncovered her, lifting off the clothes, got on to her, up her, and with-out a word, without a whisper, without resistance or denial we fucked gently, pausing at intervals to listen, hiding our emotions and pleasures as we spent, Laura's flanks and my hand close to Mabel's rump, my leg al-most touching Mabel's leg, she still snoring like a pig.

“Go”, said Laura, her mouth to my ear, and uncunting me. Quietly, without reply, I got off, and back again crept stealthily to Mabel's side, and at the very moment that I was lifting the bed-clothes Mabel awoke, and said directly, “What are you getting up for? — where are you going?”