My Secret Life

I recollect all this distinctly, I always do the incidents of a first night with a female. When I am accustomed to them, the more striking circumstances of our acquaintance remain in my memory. It seems to me that first night's incidents will always remain fresh in my recollection, excepting the number of fucks; I recollect up to about half-a-dozen, then I lose count, there my memory of a first night alone fails me.

I took a liking for Louisa. For nearly a year I had borne with the frigidity of Sarah and her tyranny, “You shall only do it once, — I won't, — I can't wait, —well go”, were commands I had got accustomed to obey, had bowed to refusals to allow her secret charms to be looked at time after time, to have my prick ejected before the last injecting throb had been given. I liked the woman, doted on her exquisite form, liked the domesticity of sitting and reading to her, and at the same time just feeling her cunt whilst she laid on the sofa, because I liked her conversation, and because I was at times rewarded by rapturous delight when she abandoned herself body and soul to me, I submitted to all this. But I often rebelled, wished it was otherwise, and made up my mind to leave her for other women, yet did not. I have said all this before.

Now to have a splendidly made woman, who had as much pleasure with me as I had with her, was overwhelming. I forgot Sarah for a time, and longed for the repetition of the baudy, voluptuous hours I had had with the big armed, big-thighed Louisa, and counted the days till we met again. The instant I set eyes upon her we went upstairs. “Let's get into bed.” Then it was a race who undressed the first. “Naked?” “Yes naked.” She laughed. “Look at your thing”, said she as sitting down she pissed. It was stiff as a poker; the next minute I was laying bedded on that soft fleshy form, and we were spending. What a fat, luscious, and grand cunt she had, though three fingers went up it easily.

Then to my delight she threw up her limbs a little, and crossing them over me pressed her cunt close up to my willing cock-roots; and there we lay, my prick in her, my balls covering her arse-hole; whilst now and then she gripped my prick by muscular cuntal action. When her tongue touched mine, she sometimes ran her lithsome tongue over my teeth, or under my lips, and along my gums, — it was a peculiarity of hers. Then she would glue her wet lips to my wet lips, till our salivas mingled, and ran profusely, stimulating our lusts. Thus we enjoyed each other's bodies, till another fuck dissolved us, and separated our spunk- soaked genitals; and she got up, washed, and went away sometimes in a great hurry.

Soon I grumbled at her going so, and she promised to stop a longer time. “Have a shoulder of mutton”, said she, “and onion sauce, — I love it, — Hannah will cook it beautifully, — we will dine at two o'clock, Hannah with us.” So it came about; we three sat down to a shoulder. Louisa liked sherry, Hannah brandy; I brought both of fine quality, we gorged, Hannah got slightly tight, observing Louisa and I caressing. “Ah !” said she, “I envy you, you two going to bed.” “Why where is Jack?” “Oh ! at Windsor, and I shan't have a bit for a month at least.” “You'll have to frig yourself”, said I joking. “That's better than nothing, but I like the wetting best.” Louisa laughed, and used afterwards to say to Hannah, “Has Jack given you a wetting?” Later on some other free ladies took up the joke, and Hannah's “wetting” became a bye-word among the circle of free, mercenary lovers.

Dinner over we hurried upstairs, and we went naked to bed. This was about half-past three; there we lay till eleven o'clock at night, and had an oyster supper in bed. Hannah came up, and ate oysters with us whilst we were in bed together. We ate them out of the shells, and drank champagne, heard happy couples over head, and joked about it, talked about fine limbs, about Sarah's fine legs. “Show us yours Hannah”, said Louisa. Hannah without a word cocked one leg up against the bed, and drew up her petticoats to the top of one thigh. “There”, said she, “I am not ashamed of it.” She had a fine leg, but was a very plain woman. She had shown her leg to me on the day of the leg-show, when I had spent involuntarily, as I have al- ready told. We laughed and praised her leg. “Oh ! I'm ashamed of you both”, said Hannah dropping her petticoats, laughing, and hurrying out of the room. “I know where his fingers are.” She was right, Louisa was sitting up in bed, her legs half up, but covered, I half reclining by the side of her, had thrust my hand under the thighs, and was feeling her cunt.