My Secret Life

I sank back on the sofa sobbing, it came home to me all at once that I was madly in love with her. I was dazed with my own discovery,—I in love with a gay woman! one whose cunt might have had a thous-and pricks up it! who might have sprung from any dung-hill !—impossible ! I felt mad with myself, — degraded !—impossible, — it could not be, — and for a time I conquered myself. I tried then to draw her out about herself. It was useless. Her quiet way of asserting that she was going at length brought home the conviction that she spoke the truth. Then I laid and sobbed on the sofa for half-an-hour. “Oh ! you will soon get another friend”, said she. “No, no, — I can get a woman, but not one I shall like, — Sarah my darling, Sarah I love you, — I dote on you, — oh l for God's sake don't leave, — come with me, — you shan't lead this life, — we will go abroad together.”

“That is impossible, — if I did you would leave me, and then what should I do? — come back to this life, —no.” “You are going with somebody else, — who?” “I can't say, — I'll tell you when I am gone.” “When are you going?” “Perhaps in a fortnight, perhaps a little later on.”

I calmed for a time, a fortnight might give me a chance of persuading her, and I began it at once; but it was all, “No, — no, — no, — it's all for the best for both of us”,—and again I fell into deep despair, my heart felt breaking, I had been so happy with this woman for months, she had so filled my thoughts, so occupied my spare time, that I had half forgotten my home life. Now I felt alone again, I had told her some of my troubles, — not all, — now I poured them all out, and offered everything, — all I had, — to go that next day abroad, and never return; that I would make her love me though she did not now, I promised all men could promise, — and meant it.

“No, — no, — impossible”, — and again I fell back on the sofa sobbing like an infant, I have almost the deadly heart-ache now as I write this. She sat looking at me for some time, then she arose, stooped over me, and kissed me. I turned round, and—how strange that in my despair I noticed it, and now recollect noticing id—as she stooped her chemise opened, and as I put my arm round her, her breasts touched my face, and as I moved to kiss them I saw her whole lovely form down to her feet, the dark hair of her motte, the bright white scar; and all in the soft subdued light which is on a woman's body when enveloped in a thin chemise, —and my prick stood whilst kissing her and sobbing, and she was soothing me.

“It's of no use your loving me,” she said, “and it's of no use my loving you, — don't take on so, — perhaps when I am gone you will be happier at home, — I can't love you, although I like you very much, for you have been a good, kind man to me, — I nearly do love you I think, — if I were with you I'm sure I should, — but it's of no use, for I am a married woman, and have two children, and am going with them and my husband.”

I was amazed, and doubted it. “I'll bring you my children to see”, said she, “it was to get them their dinners and tea that I always left you at times as I have.” “And at night?” “I always go home before he comes home.” “You always go home to your husband ?” “Yes.”

How I loathed that man I—my loathing rose to my lips. “That miserable contemptible cur lives by your body, — a dirty vagabond.” “No he's not, — poor fellow, he would earn our living if he could, but he can't.” “I don't believe it, — a man who lives by a woman is barely a man, — I would empty cesspools to keep a woman I loved, rather than another man should stroke her, — no good can come of it, — he'll leave you for some other woman some day.” Sarah turned nasty, said she was sorry she had told me so much, that all I said against him only made her like him the more; and so leaving me in sorrow she went away.

Now that I felt sure she was going away, I could not see too much of her; morning, noon, and night I had her. She brought her two children to me, and very proud she was of them. How it was I never noticed the marks of childbirth on her before I know not, but I never had. I spoke of that now. “I took good care you should not”, said she smiling, and I recollected that when I had her by the side of the bed, when I looked at her on the sofa, it was nearly always with her back to the light; when laying on the bed, and I tried to gratify my passion by opening her thighs, and gazing on her hidden charms, she nearly always half-turned towards the window, and her belly was in shadow. “I don't like to be pulled about, — I won't have it, — if you want me have me, and have done with it, — get another woman if you like who will do it, or allow it, — I won't.” These and similar answers always settled me, and I submitted, for I was under her domination, and in my folly I had actually feared that if I persisted, she would not come to see me.