My Secret Life

We entered a handsome bed-room. Turning round after paying for it, and locking the door, I saw her standing with her back to the light (the curtains were down, but the room was nevertheless light), one arm resting on the mantle-piece. She looked at me fixedly, and I did at her. Then I recollect noticing that her mouth was slightly open, and that she looked seemingly vacantly at me (it always was so), that she had a black silk dress on, and a dark-colored bonnet. Then desire impelled; I went close to her, and began to lift her clothes. She pushed them down in a commanding way saying, “Now none of that.”

“Oh! here is your money”, said I putting down a sovereign on the mantle-piece. She broke into a quiet laugh. “I did not mean that”, she remarked. “Let me feel you.” “Get away”, said she impatiently, and turning she took off her bonnet. I then saw she had thick and nearly if not quite black hair, and recollect that I noticed these points just in the order I have narrated them. Then she leaned her arm on the mantle-piece again, and looked at me quietly, her mouth slightly open, and I stood looking at her without speaking, my sperm fermenting in my balls; but I was slightly bothered, almost intimidated by her cold manner, — a manner so unlike what I usually met with in strumpets.

“You have beautiful legs.” “So they say.” “Let me see them.” She laid down on the sofa, her back to the light, without uttering a word. I threw off coat and waistcoat, and sitting at the foot of the sofa threw up her dress to her knees; higher I tried, but she resisted. Then my fingers felt her cunt, and the delight of the feel and sight of her beautiful limbs overwhelmed me. “Take off your things, — let me see you undressed, — you must be exquisite.” My hands roved all about her bum, belly and thighs, and just seeing the flesh above her garters I fell to kissing it, and kissed upwards till the aroma of her cunt met my nostrils, and its thicket met my lips and mingled with my moustache, which I then wore, though so few men then did. I fell on my knees by the side of her, kissing, feeling, and smelling; but she kept her thighs close together, and pushed her petticoats over my head whilst I kissed, so that I saw but little of her beauties. Then excited almost to madness by my amusement I rose up. “Oh ! come to the bed, — come.” She lay quite still.

“No, — do it here, — leave me alone, — I won't have my clothes pulled up, — I won't be pulled about, — if you want it have me, and have done.” “Well get on to the bed.” “I shan't.” “I can't do it on the sofa.” “Well I'm going then.” “You shan't till I have had you, — only let me see your thighs.” “There then”, — and up went her clothes half-way. “Higher,” “I shan't.” Now my prick was out. “Get on the bed, — I won't do it here, — take your things off.” “I shan't.” “You shall.” All was said by her in a determined way, but without signs of temper.

She rose without saying another word, I think I see now as I write, her exquisite legs in beautiful silk stockings as they showed when getting off the sofa, and getting on to the bed. “But I want your clothes off.” “I won't take them off, I'm in a hurry, — I never do.” “Oh I you must.” “I won't,-now come and do what you want to do, — I'm in a hurry.” She lifted her clothes just high enough to show the fringe of her cunt, and opened her thighs a little. I thrilled with lewd delight as I saw them, and mounted her, laid between them, and inserted my prick. Ah ! at my first shove almost I was spending in her.

“Oh ! lay quiet dear, I've only been up you a second.” “No, — get off, and let me wash.” I resisted, but she uncunted me, and got off the bed quickly. “Now don't come near while I wash, — I can't bear a man looking at me washing myself.” I insisted, for I was longing to see the form I had scarcely yet had a glimpse of. Putting down the basin she pulled the bed-curtains round her to hide her whilst she slopped her quim. I would not be rude, and saw nothing. Then on went her bonnet. “Are you going first, or I?” said she. “I shall wait as long as you will.” “Then I will go first”, — and she was going away when I stopped her.

“When will you again meet me?” “Oh ! when out at all, I am up to one o'clock in Regent Street.” “Where do you live?” “I shan't say, — good bye.” “No, — wait, — come to me this afternoon.” “I can't.” “This evening.” She hesitated. “I can't stay long if I do.” “Well an hour and a half.” “Perhaps.” “Will you take off your clothes then?” “No, — good bye, I am in a hurry.” “Meet me at seven o'clock to-night. —do.” “No.” “At eight then.” “Well I will be here expecting you, — but I shan't stop long.” “Will you let me see your form up to your waist?” “Oh! I hate being looked at”, — and off she went, leaving me in the room.