My Secret Life

I grumbled at her delay, she took my complaints quietly, she could not come earlier, was all she said. She pulled off her bonnet, put it on the chair, turned round, leaned her arm on the mantle-piece, and stared at me again in a half-vacant way with her mouth slightly open, just as in the morning. I gave her very little time to stare, for I had my hand on her cunt in no time, and nearly spent in my trowsers as I touched it. She tried the same game, — she would not be pulled about, — she would not let her cunt be looked at, — if I meant to do it, do it, and have done with it. My blood rose. “I'd be damned if I would, — nor pay, nor anything else unless she took her gown off. So she took it off laughing, and laid down on the sofa. Not on the bed. No she would not. Then damned if I would do it (though I was nearly bursting). Again she laughed, and then got on to the bed. I saw breasts of spotless purity, and exquisite shape, bursting out over the corset, threw up the petticoats, saw the dark hair at the bottom of the belly, and the next instant a thrust, a moment's heaving, — quietness, — another thrust, — a sigh, — a gush of sperm, — and again I had finished with but a minute's complete sexual enjoyment only.

“Get up.” “I won't.” “Let me wash the muck out.” “No.” — and I pinned her down, squeezed to her belly, grasped her haunches. “I've not done spending.” “Yes you have.” A wriggle and a jerk, and I was uncunted and swearing. She sat down on the basin, I stooped down, tore aside the curtains, and put my hand on to her gaping cunt. She tried to rise, and pushed me, — I pushed her. She tilted on one side, her bum caught the edge of the basin, and upset the water.

“Damn you”, said she, — then she laughed and got up. I pushed her against the side of the bed, and again got my fingers on the cunt, — slippery enough it was. “You're one of those beasts, are you?” said she.

“I've never felt your cunt properly, and I will.” “Well let me wash it, and you shall.” She did so, I felt it, and then begged for another fuck. “You are not in a hurry.” “Yes I am.” “You said you would give me an hour and a half.” “Yes, but you have done me, and what is the good of keeping me?” “I mean to do it again.” “Double journey double pay.” “Nonsense, — you so excited me, that I've never had a proper poke yet.” “Well that is no fault of mine.” She laughed, and turned questioner. “Do you often have the women from Regent Street?” “Yes.” “Do you know many?” “Yes, I vary so.” “Ah ! you are fond of change, — I thought so”, — and she got talkative after that. I had thought her almost a dummy.

Meanwhile I was gloating over her charms, her beautiful arms, the lovely breasts I now played with, the lovely limbs I saw, for she had sat down in the most enticing position with the ankle of one foot resting on the knee of the other leg. I wanted to pull the clothes higher up the thighs, she resisted, but I saw the beautiful ankles, the tiny boots and feet, the creamy flesh of the thigh just above the garter, thighs thickening, folding over, squeezing together, and hiding her cunt from view when I tried to look up.

I had hid my prick, the fear had come over me of her thinking it small, and that prevented it standing again. An hour ran away. “I'm going”, said she rising. My prick stood at the instant. “Let me.” “Make haste then.” As she stood up I put my hand up her petticoats. She put her hand down, and gave my prick a hard squeeze. I hollowed,—she laughed.

“I've a good mind not to let you, — you've been so long, — but you may do it.” She got on to the bedside. “Oh ! for God's sake don't move, — that attitude is exquisite.” One leg was well on the bed, the petticoats were squeezed up, and the leg on the ground from the boot-heel to about four inches above her garter was visible. She was half turning round, her lovely breasts, or rather one of them showed half-front, and with her head looking round at me as she was moving, it alto-gether made a ravishingly luscious picture. I put my hands up from behind between her thighs. That broke the spell, she moved on to the bed directly, — I on to her.

“Oh ! God you are heavenly, lovely, — oh ! God my darling, — oh !” I was spending and kissing her too quickly again; lust almost deprived me of my pleasure. In a dozen shoves I was empty. It was all over.

“How quietly you stood in that attitude”, said I. “I can stand in an attitude nearly five minutes without moving, almost without showing that I am breathing, without winking an eye.” ..I thought nothing of this at the time, excepting that it was brag.

“Give me five shillings, for I have been a long time with you, — I've a reason, — I won't ask you again.” I gave it her. “Shall you be in Regent Street to-morrow morning?” “Yes.”