My Secret Life

One day she did not. No sooner had she gone out of the back-door than I called up Mary. “Let's do it.” “I will.” “I don't care if she does catch us”, said I furiously. “lean forward, look out into the garden, I will do it dog-fashion.” There was a lowish-backed easy-chair which I usually sat in by the breakfast-table, up against which I pushed it. Anyone stooping over it, and looking could just see through the window the head of any one coming away from the privy. My impetuousity prevailed, I threw up her clothes over her backside, and plugging her cunt, was soon in exstacies, Mary in a funk, submitting, and with me looking whilst we fucked, out of the window for her Mistress' head, which as I have said, we could not fail to see. But our pleasure came on, and in our joint delight we only thought of the lubricity of our position. “Look out darling.” “Yes-I am.” “Oh !-a-h !-are.” “You're loo—k—look—ing?” “Yes—oh !—ah !-be-ququick,-ah !-ash !” I had spent, my belly was still squeezed up against her bum, my prick still up her, my hands rubbing her flesh, when I heard a footstep at the back-door. To pull out my prick, drop my dressing-gown over it, let fall the clothes over Mary's posteriors was the work of an instant. Rushing towards the door I met her Mistress just as she entered it. Passing her I rushed out towards the privy saying, as if ready to shit myself, “What a time you have been there. I thought you were going to stay there all day.” It had been raining, the ground was wet, and just in-side the back-door she had paused to wipe her feet on the mat. Had she not done so she would have caught us in the posture, for we had both spent, and lost all consciousness for the minute, I was dreaming leaning over Mary when I heard the feet rubbing on the door-mat.

I stopped a sufficient time at the privy to show that I really wanted to go there. When I went back to the house I found Mary had fainted right off in the par-lour, and dropped a tray. The shock of fear at being caught had been too much for her nerves, and she rolled on the floor showing her legs. My wife jealously told me to leave. I did, but in a funk for I saw on one of her stockings unmistakeable stains of spunk mixed with poorliness.

We talked over it afterwards, wondering if it had been noticed; but I never knew. Mary recovered and got up just as I went out of the room. Her Mistress afterwards remarked that she was a fine-made, but coarse, strong woman, she called all stout, well-filled women coarse.

Her Mistress asked her what she had bought the day she had gone out shopping, and she showed her some things, which most unfortunately she had shown before, then her Mistress said it had been merely a pretext to get out. She told me of it, and when Mary's regular holiday came she refused to let her go. Mary insisted, there were words, I was consulted, and said she ought to be allowed to go. “You always take a servant's part.” “It's a lie”, said I. “and I won't come home till time to go to bed.” “I shall be alone in the house then.” “Serve you right” — nd off I went. Mary met me an hour or two after the proper time whilst I kept anxiously waiting and fuming, either under the portico of the lyceum, or about there. Then we spent the rest of the afternoon and evening in voluptuous delight.

“I'm in the family way”, said Mary with a sigh. “My God are you?” — how unfortunate !—are you sure?” “Yes, I knew I should be.” “What is to be done?” “What I have done before.” “You have been in the family way then?” “Yes twice, he wanted me to have the child, but I would not unless I were married.”

I kept out for an hour after Mary's return that night, and had a row for the Mistress was sitting up. Next day I had a latch-key put on the door, and told her she need not sit up, then went home at three in the morning, and found her sitting up. Then I told her if she did so again I would stop out all night, but again she sat up awaiting me, so I went off and did not go home till the next night. That settled it.

Mary took medicine and was ill, another monthly holiday came, and was spent at the house. A few days afterwards Mary was looking blank. Her Mistress told me she had dismissed her. “Why?” I asked. “She was no good, and not a good servant.” Mary was sacked at the end of the week, I could not of course interfere without injuring the poor woman, and implicating myself, — no good to either of us.

So soon as she had left our house I was told all that Mary had told me of herself, the Mistress evidently feared that Mary might seduce me, or go astray somehow. That is what the poor girl got for telling her true history to her. Said she also, “She has been taking strong medicine, and I believe it was to bring on her courses.” She knew they had stopped. Her sister had advised her not to keep a female in the house who had diamond rings, a gold watch and chain, and silk dresses. It was evident to me that the pow girl's history had been told to more than one person.