My Secret Life, Volumes I. to III. - The Original Classic Edition. Anonymous Anonymous
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that my prick began again to stiffen. I had with Charlotte failed ignominiously two or three times, in a third fuck on the same day, and feared a failure now. I kissed and felt her, as far as my hands and our clothes would let me, she moved her bum up gently to let my hand under it, but not a word could I get from her. "Can I do it again?" thought
I, and began pushing--yes it was stiffening, and again was that cunt tightening. I push harder,--with a gentle heave the belly comes up, I am off on the ride without having withdrawn; was this the fist time I had ever been man enough to do it twice without uncunting? I think so.
The passage of privates was longer, I felt more movement in her
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buttocks, her sighs were stronger, her hand moved more restlessly over my back, our mouths got glued together. Her lips are wet, or it is
mine which are getting wet? There is a new, voluptuous sensation I never experienced before, it delights me; I glued my lips tighter to hers,
our heaves are quicker, our sighs shorter, I feel the least bit of
her tongue touching my lips. I had never heard of that voluptuous accompaniment of fucking, and it was to me an inspiration; shooting out my tongue into her mouth,--hers comes out to meet it; they are exchanging liquids,--the delight spreads electrically through our bodies,--up comes her belly,--shorter are my shoves,--a quivering wriggle to get deeper up her--and we both spend together, as it
seems with more pleasure than I ever did before. How strange I should recollect this all so clearly.
The delights of the wet kisses are new to me; although not able to see them, I thought of her exquisite teeth, and rolled my tongue over them. She kisses me, still holds me, again my hand goes down to feel the parts now separating, slobbered, and sticky with past joy; out comes my prick, and then she speaks. "No-no," she sits up, I by her side, my hand on her naked thighs for a minute. She gets up, gives me a long kiss, goes to
her room, and soon after comes down, her eyes wet with crying, "Don't come near me, don't be unkind, let me alone," she says. Her manner was so commanding, that I let her go to the kitchen without following her. Shortly Eliza and then my mother came home.
Mad for her again, I took to my chemistry in the back kitchen constantly, you may be sure. When I got the chance, spoke of our pleasures and my hopes. "We ought," said she, "both to be ashamed of ourselves, but I especially who am so many years older than you, ought
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to have known better; if I am punished it will serve me right. Oh! if
you don't hold your tongue! My risk is more than you have any idea of."
All was said in a way as if she were preaching, and looking me full in the face.
She refused what I wanted and avoided me, but it was impossible for her altogether to escape me. Risking everything, emboldened by impunity with Charlotte, I used to clutch her knees, and put my head up her clothes, kissing and smelling her motte, I began to love the smell of it. She
used to dislodge me, and neither made a noise, nor uttered a word in
doing so--indeed she rarely spoke at any time. But it is difficult for
a woman who has been fucked by a man to refuse him again; I watched my opportunities, my conversation broken as it was, and rarely but for a
minute at a time, was one repetition of lustful wants and prayers; I
used to pull my prick out, beg her to see and feel it. At length she
did, saying, "May God forgive me for my weakness." That day I fucked her
again standing in the kitchen, and a second time a few hours afterwards
in the dusk, which experience began to show me was the time she was most accessible; the other servant was somewhere in the house at the time I recollect.
After that her manner changed, she ceased to resist; but when I asked her to go to a house with me, she said, "No, no, I am not coming to that." Now, though tranquil, she was more capricious, sometimes letting me feel her, or do it to her with impatience; at other times with
evident desire to please; but I was so often baulked, and I plagued her so incessantly to meet me somewhere, that at length she did, saying,
"Well, it little matters, as I have made my bed, so I must lie on it." I
did not know then what she meant by that.
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She got a holiday, we had food at a tavern, went to the house to which I first took Charlotte, and into the same room; what a reminiscence! As I got to the door, she looked nervously round and said, "I may as well
be hung for a sheep as a lamb." It was a joyous day for me. Once in the house she became gay and amatory, threw off all restraint, and abandoned herself to sexual enjoyment in a way she never did but twice again.
She was simply dressed as was customary with servants in those days.
Soon I had her standing naked before me with but boots and stockings on.
And what a sight she was. Quite five feet eight high, stout, yet as it seemed to me then, without a single part of her body either flabby or shapeless, her skin was of such dazzling whiteness that her white
stockings looked dull by contrast, very light brown hair, which when pulled out nearly hung to her waist, the hair of her cunt and armpits
in quantity of a lighter golden brown; all looked much darker than their true colour, against the dazzling whiteness of the skin. Ample calves and thighs, breasts firm as ivory, her arms to match in plumpness and
whiteness, her hands alone discoloured by work, looked dark against the rest of her glorious person. I recollect this all well, and that at that
time I disliked light-haired women: but in her suddenly, the light hair appeared to me lovely.
She changed in manner that day from a condescending matron, to a
lover of my own age; had the complacency of a gay woman, tempered with modesty. I had no notion of baudily posturing women which I learned
in after life, but had an innate love and perception of all that
was beautiful, and began placing her in attitudes favorable to the contemplation of her charms. She complied with all; from belly to side,
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from side to back I turned her; she smiled as if pleased, curious, and astonished; and when I turned to quench my passion in her, she met me with an ardour less demonstrative, but more stifling and satisfying
than Charlotte; it was a worry to think that I had twice fucked her, and
seemed to have finished each time before I had began fucking.
The firmness of her flesh impressed me, whether I put my finger between the cheeks of her arse or between her thighs, I could with difficulty
get it away; she could have cracked a nut between either. The next wonder was the hair of her cunt, which was long but curly; I now see that she could not have pissed without wetting it, which accounted
for her always what we youths used to call mopping it, after she had piddled. The cunt looked twice as big as Charlotte's, but the prick-hole seemed to me smaller; and whether my finger or my prick was in it, seemed to grasp it tightly. My prepuce used to give me then at times pain just before, or when I spent in Charlotte; in Mary I scarcely seemed to feel it, and afterwards a quiet sort of grinding of her cunt, prolonged my pleasure until my penis left it. I was so new to the work,
that all those differences impressed me, I compared and thought of them constantly.
She gave no violent writhes, nor twists, nor jerked her arse, nor wriggled as she spent, but just as my short thrusts came on, her belly
used gradually to heave up and grow into mine; her cunt almost seemed to be sucking my prick, whilst it throbbed and jetted its sperm into her;
my hardest thrusts never hurt; Charlotte used to complain if my prick was too vigorous in her. Then when her