My Secret Life

The quarrelsome life I led with the oldish woman at home was I knew well understood by the old couple. “I lead a miserable life”, said I. “Oh ! yes I know all about it”, said the girl “Master and Missus often talk about you, — but you're very gay, ain't you?” Then I told this girl a lot. “Think my dear what it is not even to sleep with a woman for two months, — for two months we have never slept together, — I've never seen her undressed, — never touched her flesh, — you know what people marry for,—I want a woman, you know what I mean don't you, — every night what am I to do? — I love laying belly to belly naked with a nice woman, and taking my pleasure with her, — so of course I can't keep from having other women at times, — you don't know what an awful thing it is to have a stiff prick, and not a nice woman to relieve it.” She gave me a push, got up, and made for the door at the word prick. Again I stopped her. She had sat staring at me with her mouth wide open, without saying a word, all the time I had been telling the baudy narrative of domestic trouble, as if she were quite stupefied by my plain language until she suddenly jumped up, and made for the door without saving a word.

I was as quick as she, caught her, put my back against the door, and would not let her go, but could not get her to look me in the face, I had so upset her. There we stood, I begging her to sit down, and promising not to talk so again, she saying, “Now let me go, — let me out.” “No, — sit down.” “No.” But in about a quarter of an hour she did, and then again I told her of my trouble, avoided all straighforward allusion to my wanting other women, but hinted it enough. She got interested, and asked me no end of questions. “Lord why don't you separate, if I quarrel with my husband so, I'm sure I will, — I tell my young man so.” “Oh ! you have a sweetheart.” Yes she had, —a grocer's shopman, — he lived at Brighton, came up third class to see her every fortnight, starting early, and going back late. She was flattered by my enquiries, told me all about him and herself, their intention to get married in a year; and I sat and listened with one hand outside her clothes on her thigh, and thinking how I could best manage to get into her.

“He goes with women”, said I to make her jealous. “He don't I'm sure, — if he did, and I found it out, I'd tear his eyes out, and break off with him, though he says Brighton is a dreadful place for them hussies.” She got quite excited at the idea. “When he comes up, you and he enjoy yourselves, — his hands have been where mine have to-night.” “No he hasn't, — if he dared I'd—now I don't like this talk, — you said you wouldn't, — leave me alone, — you keep breaking your word.” Another little scuffle, a kiss, and a promise. “Why should you not enjoy yourselves? — who would know anything about it but yourselves, — it's so delicious to feel yourselves naked in each other's arms, your bellies close together.” “Get away now”, — and she tried to get up. I got my hand up her clothes, pulled her on to the sofa, and holding her down with one hand, pressed myself sideways on her, and kissed her, pulling out my prick with the other.

Then she cried out so loudly that I was alarmed, for the window at the back was open. “Hush, — be quiet, — there, — I've touched your cunt.” I pulled one of her hands on to my prick. “Oh! for shame Jenny you touched my prick.” Again she got up, and made for the door; so did I, and stood there with my back to it, and my poker out in front of me. “Come and open the door my dear, and you will run against this.” She turned her head away, and would not look. “Why don't you come on? — if you run up against it, it won't hurt you, — it's soft though it's stiff.” “I'll write to my Mistress to-night”, said she, and turned away. “Do my pet, — tell her how stiff it was, and the old lady will want to see it when she comes back.” “It's disgraceful.” “No my dear, it's to be proud of, — why you're looking at it I can see.”

Then she turned quite away. “That's right dear, — now I can see where I pinched your bum, — it was not far from your little quim, — oh ! if that could talk, it would ask to be introduced to this, it's hot, isn't it Jenny?” I said, this and a lot more. She had walked to the back-window, and stood looking into the gar-den whilst I rattled on. “You're laughing Jenny.” “It's a story”, said she, “I'm insulted”,-and turned round with a stern face. I shook my tooleywagger. “How ill-tempered you look, — come and feel this, and you'll be sweet-tempered at once.” She turned round to the window again.

“I will write my Missus, — that I will.” “Do dear.” “My sister will be here directly.” “You said she comes at dusk, — it won't be dark for three hours.” “I wish you would go, — what will people say if they know you're here?” “Don't be uneasy, — they will know no more than they know of your doings with your young man.” “There is nothing to know about, but what is quite proper.”