I had about this time of my life began to frame intentions, and calculate my actions towards women; although still mostly ruled by impulse and opportunity in love matters. My philosophy was owing to experience, and also in a degree to my friend the Major, to whom some years before I had confided my having commissioned a French woman to get me a virgin. He was older, poorer, and more dissolute than ever, "He is the baudiest old rascal that ever I heard tell a story," was the remark of a man at our Club one night. Ask him to dinner in a quiet way by himself, give him unlimited wine, and he would in an hour or two begin his confidential advice in the amatory line, and in a wonderful manner tell of his own adventures, and give reasons why he did this or that, why he succeeded with this woman, or missed that girl, in a way as amusing, and instructive to a young listener, as could be imagined.
"If you want to get over a girl," he would say, "never flurry her till her belly's full of meat and wine; let the grub work. As long as she is worth fucking, it's sure to make a woman randy at some time. If she is not twenty-five she'll be randy directly her belly is filled,—then go at her. If she's thirty, give her half-an-hour.  Then she'll want to piss, and directly after that she'll be ready for you without her knowing it. But don't flurry your young un,—talk a little quiet smut whilst feeding, just to make her laugh and think of baudy things; then when she has left table, get at her. But it's well," the old Major would say, "to leave a woman alone in a room for a few minutes after she has dined, perhaps then she will let slip a fart or two, perhaps she'll piss,—she'll be all the better for the wind and water being out.  Once they have seen it they can't forget it, it will keep in their minds.  And so the Major instructed us.
About three days afterwards, taking a pair of garters, two small showy neckerchiefs, and Fanny Hill with me, I knocked at the door. "Oh! you!" said she colouring up. "Yes,—is everything right?" "Yes! all right, what should be the matter sir?" She stood at the street-door holding it open, though I had entered the hall. I turned, closed the door, and caught hold of her.
 "I could not help it, you're so lovely, it's your fault,—forgive me, and I won't do so any more,—here is a sovereign, take it, kiss me, and make it up." "I don't want your money," said she sulkily. "Take it, I give it with real pleasure,—what I had the other day was worth double."
"I won't be paid for your rudeness, if that's what you mean." "Lord my dear I've no occasion to pay for that, I took it without pay,—I wish I could get what I told you yesterday,—I'd give ten times the sum." "You are going on again." "Don't be foolish,—take it, buy a pair of silk stockings." "Your plump legs would look so nice in them,"—and I forced her to put the money into her pocket.
Then I got her to the parlour, to sit down, to allow me to kiss her, and then to talk about me and my "Missus," as she called her, a subject which seemed to excite her, for she began asking me question after question, and listened to all I said with breathless attention about my daily habits, rows, and fast doings. Once I stopped at some question. "I won't tell you that." "Oh! do,—do." "No it's curious." "Do,—do." It was about a pretty servant-girl whom I had noticed in my house. "It will offend you if I do." "No it won't." "Well give me a kiss then."
She kissed me. She had stood up a moment, now she sat down again by me on the sofa. I went on with my story, every now and then I stopped till she kissed me, it came to a kiss every minute, as I sat with my arm round her waist, talking.
Said I, "It was a servant whom my wife turned out at a day's notice,—a pretty girl,—I had taken to kissing her, and then I nudged her somewhere you know. One night when she opened the door, I saw by the light that my wife was in our bed-room. 'Is your Mistress upstairs?' 'Yes sir.' 'And the cook?' 'Yes.' Then I closed with her. 'Don't sir, Missus will hear.' I hugged her closer, shoved her up against the wall, got my hand on to her cunt, felt her, and gave her half-a-sovereign.  I told it in words like that to Jenny, and she sat listening. At the word "fuck" up she got.
 "You asked me." "Not for that." "But that's what I had to tell, what you kissed me to tell." "I didn't think you would say rude things." "Sit down, and I'll tell you without rude words." And so I did, telling all over again with additions, but instead of saying "cunt," "fuck," and so on, said, "I got my hand you know where,"—"and then she let me you know what,"—"she was frightened to let me do, you guess what I wanted."
"Luckily though she foolishly told her fellow-servant, she did not say who had been feeling her. That sneak told my wife, who told me about it, or all she knew, and said she could not keep such an improper girl in the house as that. 'But the other servant may have told a lie to spite her.' 'Perhaps, but I'll turn her out too',—and so she did, both left."
Thus I talked to Jenny till I expect her quim was hot enough; then said I, "Here is a pretty neckerchief,—put it on." "Oh! how pretty." "I won't give it you unless you put it on." She went to the glass and unbuttoned the top of her dress, which was made to button on the front. I saw her white fat bosom, she threw the kerchief round the neck, and tried to push it down the back. "Let me put it down,—it's difficult." She let me. "You are not unbuttoned enough,—it's too tight." She undid another button, I pushed down the kerchief, and releasing my hand as I stood at the back of her, put it over her shoulder, and down in front, pushing it well under her left breast.
A shriek, a scuffle; In the scuffle I burst off a button or two, which exposed her breast, and getting my hand on to one of the globes began feeling and kissing it. Then I slid my hand further down, and under her armpit. "Oh! what a shame,—don't,—I don't like it." "How lovely,—kiss, kiss,—oh! Jenny what a lot of hair I can feel under here." "Oh!—screach,—screach,—oh! don't tickle me,—oh!—oh!,"—and she crouched as women do who can't bear tickling. I saw my advantage. "Are you ticklish?" "Yes,—oh!—(screach,—screach),—oh! leave off."
 She got my hand out, but I closed on her, tickling her under her arm, pinching her sides, and got her into such a state of excitement, that directly I touched her she screached with wild laughter; the very idea of being touched made her shiver. We were on the sofa, she yelling struggling whilst I pinched her, she trying to get away from me, but fruitlessly; I buried my face in her breasts which were now largely exposed, and she fell back I with my face on her, and holding her tight. Then I put one hand down, feeling outside for her notch; that stopped her screaching, and she pushed me off as she got up.
I soothed her, begged pardon, spoke of the hair in her armpits, wondered if it was the same colour that it was lower down. Now she shammed anger, boxed my ears, and we make it up. I produced the garters. "Oh! what a lovely pair." "They're yours if you let me put them on." "I won't." "Let me put on halfway up." "No." "Just above the ankle." "No, my stockings are dirty." "Never mind." "No." Then she made an excuse, said she must see to something, and left the room. I thought she was going to piddle.
She came back. I found afterwards she had been out to lace up her boots, they were untidy. It was coquettishness, female instinct, for she wanted the garters, and meant to let me try them on, though refusing. "Where do you garter, about knee?" "I shan't tell you." "I've seen,—let me put them on below the knees." "No." "Then I'll give them to another woman who will let me." "I don't care." I threw the garters on to the table after some fruitless attempts. I was getting awfully lewd with our conversation.
"Do you like reading?" "Yes." "Pictures?" "Yes." "I've a curious book here." "What is it?" I took the book out. "The Adventures of Fanny Hill" "Who was she?" "A gay lady,—it tells how she was seduced, how she had lots of lovers, was caught in bed with men,—would you like to read it?" "I should." "We will read it together,—but look at the pictures,"—this the fourth or fifth time in my life I have tried this manoeuvre with women.
I opened the book at a picture of a plump, leering, lecherous-looking woman squatting, and pissing on the floor, and holding a dark-red, black-haired, thick-lipped cunt open with her fingers. All sorts of little baudy sketches were round the margin of the picture. The early editions of Fanny Hill had that frontispiece.
She was flabbergasted, silent. Then she burst out laughing, stopped and said, "What a nasty book,—such books ought to be burnt." "I like them, they're so funny." I turned over a page. "Look, here is she with a boy who sold her watercresses, is not his prick a big one?" She looked on silently, I heard her breathing hard. I turned over picture after picture. Suddenly she knocked the book out of my hand to the other side of the room. "I won't see such things," said she. "Won't you look at it by yourself?" "If you leave it here I'll burn it." "No you won't, you'll take it to bed with you." There I left the book lying, it was open and the frontispiece showing. "Look at her legs," said I, for we could see the picture as we sat on the sofa; and I began to kiss and tickle her again.
She shrieked, laughed, got away, and rushed to the door. I brought her back, desisted from tickling and lewd talking, though I was getting randier than ever. "Now have the garters,—let me put one round the leg, just to see how it looks,—just half-way up the calf." After much persuasion, after pulling up my trowsers, and showing how a garter looked round my calf, she partly consented. "Promise me you won't tickle me." I promised everything.
I dropped on one knee, she sat on the sofa. "Put one foot on my leg." She put one foot there, and carefully raised her clothes an inch or two above the boot-top. "A little higher." She raised it holding her petticoats tight round the leg, and I slipped the garter round it. "It's too loose, raise a little more." "I won't any higher,—I can see how it looks." "Won't they look nice when they are above the knee? and won't your young man be pleased when he sees them there." "My young man won't see them any more than you will." "Let me slip on the other." The same process, the same care on her part. She bestowed all her care on the limb I was gartering, lest I should slip the garter higher up. The remainder of her clothes were loose round her other leg. Then I pushed my hand up her clothes and herself back on the sofa, relinquishing the leg I was gartering.
Rapidly my hand felt thighs, hair, cunt, How wet! What is this which catches my fingers?—what is it they are gliding between? With a yell she pushed me away, and got up as I withdrew my fingers. She had a napkin on, my fingers were stained red. "Oh, you beast," said she bursting into tears. I caught hold of her, and began to tickle her; she pushed me violently away, and escaping, rushed downstairs, slammed the kitchen-door in my face, and locked herself in. I have been accustomed to this behaviour on similar occasions.
I stood outside begging pardon, talking baudiness, I tried to burst open the door, and could not.   "What a hard-hearted girl,—I'll give you ten pounds to let me,—who will know it, but you and me?" and a lot more; but it was of no use, and at length I went upstairs, determining to wait, and thinking that in time she might follow me.
On the sofa I sat thinking of what I had done. There lay one garter, I took it up, and rolled it round my pego. I rubbed the tip with it, thinking it might be a spell. I took up Fanny Hill, got more excitedly reading the book, looking at its salacious pictures, and feeling my prick at the same time. Then the sense ol pleasure got beyond control, and laying down the book on the floor just beneath me, where I could see a baudy picture, I turned on my side on the sofa, and frigged till a shower of spunk shot out.
Then down I went. The door was still locked, my senses were calmed, but I talked baudy, and offered her money without a reply; growing tired, I bawled out, "I'm going,—you will let me in a day or two, and get the ten pounds towards the new shop,—you won't be so unkind when I come again." "I'll take good care never to let you in," said she. They were the only words I could get out of her. I went upstairs, took a slip of paper, and wrote on it, "I have wrapped the garter round my prick, it is a charm. Directly you put it on I shall know, for my prick will stiffen,—you will put it on I am sure; and directly my prick stiffens, your cunt will long to have it up it, even if I am miles away.  Why should we deny ourselves the pleasure,—no one will know it, and you will be ten pounds the richer." I wrote that or something nearly like it, and charmed with my own wit, rubbed the garter over the top of my prick till I left the smell on it, then laid it on the table over the paper I had written, and went away, taking Fanny Hill with me.
It is a positive fact, that about two hours afterwards I had a violent randy throbbing in my prick, and found out later on that just at that very time she had put that garter on.
(And now for the complete understanding of what follows, it must be stated that the house was in plan nearly like that which I inhabited when I had my beautiful servant Mary. Kitchens in the basement, two parlours with folding doors between them, nearly always open; and rooms back and front over the parlours; and that my absent friend did with those rooms whilst absent at the seaside, what was not unusual with people of their class in those days, lock most of them up, leaving only sufficient for the servant, or caretaker, to inhabit.)
"Fanny Hill" sent to Jenny.—My next visit.—Thunder, lightning, sherry, and lust.—A chase round a table.—The money taken.—Tickling and micturating.—A search for "Fanny Hill".—A chase upstairs.—In the bed-room.—Thunder, funk, and lewdness.—Intimidation and coaxing.—Over and under.—A rapid spender.—Virginity doubtful.—Fears, tears, and fucking.
I waited a few days to ensure her poorliness being over. I had not left her Fanny Hill, but why I cannot tell, for I knew how baudy books excited a woman. The night before my next attack, I wrapped up the book, directed it to her, gave a boy sixpence to deliver it, hid myself by a lilac which was in the front-garden close to the road, and saw the boy give it to her, and go off quickly as I had told him. It was just dark, and too dark inside the passage of the house to see; for Jenny stepped outside the house so as to get light, and stripped off the envelope. I saw also that she opened the book, closed it, looked rapidly on both sides, then stepped inside, and closed the door.  I saw her sister who slept with her nightly, going through the front-garden soon afterwards, and Jenny open the door for her. I had then moved off to a safe distance, the other side of the road.
Jenny was fond of finery, and I had heard the old lady of the house declaiming about it. Her pleasure at the showy neckerchief and garters was great, so I bought a pretty broach, and filling my purse with sovereigns determined to have her at any cost, for my letch for her had got violent. The next day I had a good luncheon, went to the house just after her dinnertime, and took with me a bottle of sherry. I recollect the morning well. It was a sultry day, reeking with moisture; it had been thundering, the clouds were dark and threatening, the air charged with electricity. Such a day makes all creation randy, and you may see every monkey at the Zoological Gardens frigging or fucking. I was resolute with lustful heat, the girl was I expected under the same influence, and taking her as I did after a lazy meal, everything was propitious to me. "How shall I get in?—if I knock she may not open; and if she sees me go up the front-garden she won't open." But I had to try, so walked up to the door, and gave one single loud tradesman's knock.
There was a little porch and a shelter over the street-door. Standing flat up against the door, so that I might be hidden from her sight if peeping, I heard an upper window open. She looked out, but where I was she could not see me. There was delay, so again I knocked, and soon the door began to open, I pushed it and stepped in. The front-shutters on the ground-floor to my wonder were closed.
"Hoh! sir—you," said Jenny amazed, "what do you want?" I pushed the door to, and caught hold of her. "I've come to have a chat and a kiss." She struggled, but I got her tight, and kissed as a randy man then kisses a woman, it is a magnetizing thing. "Oh! there it is again," she cried as a loud thunder-clap was heard; "oh! let me go,—oh! it do frighten me so."
"Where are you going?" "Oh I into the parlour,—I've closed the shutters." The girl was in a panic, and did not know what she said. The parlour-door was open, the room nearly dark, which suited me. She went just in, and then turned round to go out, but I pulled her to the sofa. A flash of lightning showed even in the darkened room, the girl cowered and hid her face with her hands. I took her round the waist. "Shut your eyes, and lean your head against me." Mechanically she did, she was utterly unnerved. I felt down with my right hand the form of her thighs and haunches through her clothes. My prick began to stand, pulling it out, and taking her near hand I put it round my prick just as the thunder roared. She kept her hand unconsciously on it for a time, then with a start took it away and jumped up. "Oh! it's wicked," said she, "when God Almighty is so angry,"—and just as she got to the door a terrific flash made her turn round again. I caught her, and sitting down on a chair pulled her on to my knee; she hid at once her face on my shoulder in terror.
Coaxing and soothing, and exciting her, in her fear she listened at times twitching and oh-ing.  "Oh! now don't." "Feel my prick again,—do dear." "Let me go,—you've no business here." Another flash came, I put my hand up her clothes, the tip of my fingers just touched her quim. She struggled and got away, and in doing so upset the chair which fell down and broke. "Oh! now what will my Missus say!" said she. Then a screech, and she got to the other side of the table.
This went on a little longer, a gleam of sunshine came through the shutters. Then she opened one shutter, and said if I did not go she would open the window and call out. The light showed my pego, stiff, red-tipped and ready. "Look what your feeling has done for this Jenny," said I shaking my tooleywag at her.
But her resoluteness daunted me, so I promised not to do so again. "Here is some sherry that I was taking home to taste,—let's have a glass,—it will do both of us good after this thunder,—you look white, and as if you wanted a glass." I had got out of her on a previous day that she liked sherry.   No she would not. "We will go together then."
We did, and returning to the parlour under my most solemn promise of good behaviour, down she sat, and we began drinking sherry. One glass,—two, then another she swallowed. "No I dare not, it will get into my head,—no more." "Nonsense,—after your fright it will do you good." "Well half a glass." "Isn't it nice Jenny?" "It is." "Does not your sweetheart give it you?" "At Christmas, but only one glass." The sherry began to work. "Only another half-glass,"—and I poured it out nearly full. Soon after I got up after filling my own, and standing before her again filled up hers which she had sipped without her seeing me. "Finish your glass dear." "No I can't,—it's making me so hot." "Just another half-glass." "I won't." But she began to chatter and told me again all about her young man, of their intending to open a grocer's shop when they had two hundred pounds; that he had saved a certain sum, and when he had a little more his father was to put fifty pounds to it. She also had put money in the savings bank. I got closer to her, and asked for a kiss.   She was one of the simplest and most open girls I have ever met with, and once a half-feeling of remorse came over me about my intentions, whilst she was talking on quite innocently about her future; but my randy prick soon stopped that.
 "No." "Oh! you have." "Well I have." "Let me just see." "I shan't." "I'll give you a sovereign to let me." "Shan't." I pulled out the sovereign, put it on the table and spite of her resistance pulled up her clothes just high enough to see one garter; then clutching her round the waist I pushed my hands up, and touched a well-developed clitoris.  "Oh I—can't—bear—it—now—sir;—I don't—oh!—like it,—oh!" Then with a violent effort she got my hand away, but I held her fast to me.
 I had always noticed that nothing helps to make a woman more randy than that action; it seems to overwhelm them with modest confusion; I have always done that instinctively to a woman whom I was trying.
 Just then I noticed her hair was short, and remarked it. She was annoyed, her vanity hurt, turned her thoughts entirely. "Yes," she said, "I had a fever two years ago,—-but it's growing again."   My hand was on her thighs again, and I managed another minute's frig, and kept her close to me.
The heat had become excessive. What with struggling, and the excitement, sweat was on both our faces. Her thighs by her crack were as wet as if she had pissed them, her backside began to wriggle with pleasure, which I knew I was giving her; but again with a violent effort she freed herself from me, and as I put my hand to my nose she violently pulled it away. The sherry was upsetting her wisdom.
"There is the sovereign," said I as she stood looking at me, "that will help you." "Don't want it." Seeing where her pocket-hole was I pushed it into it.  Again a struggle, a repulse, then she put her hand into her pocket.  said she taking it out quickly, "I was feeling for the money,—I won't have it."
Then I kissed her till the sweat ran off my face on to hers. "Oh! my goodness," said she as it grew darker, "it's going to thunder again." "Have another glass." "No it's gone into my head already." But she took a gulp of mine.  "What?" "Fuck." "Shan't." "Oh! you know what I mean." "No I don't, but it's something bad if it's from you." I pulled out my prick, and tried to push her on the sofa. She got away, and then with my prick out I chased her round the table. "Leave off," said she, "a joke's a joke, but this is going too far." She was getting lewd, and was staring at my prick which showed above the table as I chased her. Quick as me she managed to keep just on the side of it opposite to me.
 "I won't trust you,—you've been swearing all the afternoon." "So help me God I will," said I, and meant it. "Well then not when you are like that." I pushed my prick inside my trowsers, and then she sat down. What a long time this takes to tell, what repetition! but there are not many incidents I recollect more clearly.
Then I took out ten sovereigns, all bright, new ones, laid them on the table, and then the broach. "Do you like that Jenny?" "Yes." "It is for you if you will let me, and those ten sovereigns also." "You are a bad man," said the girl, "and would make me forget myself and be ruined, and without caring a bit,"—and she began rocking her head about, and rolling her body as she sat beside me, and looking at the money. "Who will know?—you won't tell your young man,—I shan't tell my wife,—let me." "I shan't,—never,—never,—never,—never, if it was fifty pounds," said she almost furiously. "He won't find it out." "Yes he would." "Nonsense,—half the servants do it, yet marry,"—and then I told her of some I had who had married.  "No,—no," looking at the money; then suddenly she took up the broach, and laid it down again.
Before running round the table after her, I had thrown off my coat and waistcoat. "It's so hot, I've a good mind to take off my trowsers," I had said; but I had another motive. She seemed weaker, and was so, for gradually she had got inflamed and lewd by heat, the electrical condition of the atmosphere, the titillation of my finger on her seat of pleasure, and the sight of my stiff penis. She had I expect, got to that weak, yielding, voluptuous condition of mind and body, when a woman knows she is wrong, yet cannot make up her mind to resist. Just then it came into my mind to tickle her; and then followed a scene which is one of the most amusing in my reminiscences.
She shrieked, and wriggled down on to the floor. I tried to mount her there. She kicked, fought, so that though once my prick touched her cunt-wig, I could not keep on the saddle. She forgot all propriety in her fuddled excitement, and whilst screaching from my tickling, repeated incoherently baudy words as I uttered them.   "Let's put it just to your cunt." "You shan't,—you're a blackguard,—oh! don't,—leave me alone,—wee I will feel it, if you'll let me get up,—oh!—he! hi! hi!—for God's sake don't tickle,—hi!—I shall go mad,—you shan't,—oh! don't,—oh I if you don't leave off." "I shall,—I must." "Oh! pray,—you shall if you leave off tickling then,—oh! don't pray,—oh! I shall piddle myself,—he! he!" She was rolling on the floor, her thighs exposed, sometimes backside, sometimes belly upwards with all its trimmings visible. "Oh! it's your fault," and as she spoke actually piddle began to issue. I had my hand on her thigh, and felt and saw it.
Randy as I was I burst out laughing; and she man-aged to get up, began to push in her neckerchief which I had torn out of the front of her dress, and arranged her hair.

"You began piddling." "Didn't." "I felt the piddle on my hand." She made no reply, but passed on, and wiped her face. When I said more she merely tossed her head. "Don't be a fool Jenny,—let us,—you want it as bad as me."  and tossed her head, and never took her staring eyes off me, nor ceased swabbing up her perspiring face, and at the same time looking at my throbbing, rigid cunt-stretcher.
Finding she took to yelling, and even hitting me, I desisted a moment. "Where is the book I sent you last night?" I had till then forgotten it. That opened her mouth. "Have not had a book." "I saw the boy give it you, and you open it." "He didn't." "He did." "I burnt it,—a nasty thing,—I would not let my sister see it." An angry feeling came over me for the moment, for I thought it probable, and should have had difficulty in replacing it. Then came an inspiration to help me,—a man always gets somehow on the right track to get into a woman if he has opportunity. Nature wills it. The woman was made to be fucked, and the sooner for them, the better for them.
"You have not burnt it,—I'll bet it's in your bedroom,—in your box." "It isn't." "I'll swear it's there,—you have been reading it all night,—I'll go up and see." She started as if electrified into life as I made for the door. She got there before me, and stood before me. "You shan't go,—you've no business up there,—I've burnt it,—it's not there." "It's in the kitchen then." "No, I've burnt it," she went on rapidly and confusedly.  Then I pulled up her clothes to her belly, she got them down, but still she kept her back to the door. I kept pulling her till her cap was off again, and felt sure she was getting weaker and weaker.
Then she turned round suddenly, opened the door, and ran up the stairs rapidly like a lapwing, I after her. Once she turned round, "You shan't come up," said she, and tried to push me back; and then again on she went, I following. I stumbled, that gave her a few steps ahead; I sprang up three steps at a time, recovered the lost distance, and just as she got into the bed-room, and slammed the door to, I put my foot in it,—it hurt me much. "Damn it, how you hurt my foot,—I will come in"—and pushing the door my strength prevailed; the door flew open, I saw her running round the bed, and there on the very pillow of the unmade bed lay Fanny Hill, open at one of the pictures. I threw myself across the bed, and clutched the book. She then stood motionless, panting and staring at me, she had clutched at it, and failed just as I caught it. She would have got it, but for having to go round the bed.
I laughed. "Have you not had a treat Jenny dear!" Her face was a picture of confusion. I was stretched half across the bed, and now went right across. Then to escape me she ran away, and had nearly reached the door when throwing myself over the bed again, I grasped her petticoats under her arse, and managed to pull her back.  She turned round, I pulled her petticoats clean up, she yelling, struggling, panting, imploring.  The petticoats dropped over my head, her belly kept bumping up against my nose and lips, which were covered with her cunt-moisture.
I rose up, pushed and rolled her against the bed, my hand still up her clothes. "Oh! don't, don't now,—you are a great gentleman they say, and ought to think of a poor girl's ruin,—oh! if it was found out I should be ruined." "It won't darling." I had got my fingers well over the whole slit. "Pray don't,—well I'll kiss you,—there." "Feel it." "Will you let me get up if I do?" "Yes." "There then," and she felt me.
"Oh!   "Kiss me my darling." "You shan't." "There there." Another struggle. "Oh! I can't—be—bear it."  I'm so frightened,—oh! don't,—another day,—it's wicked when it's lightning so,—oh!  Her arse was shaking with my groping and frigging.
 "Oh! oh!" I had got her somehow on to the bed, she was helpless; with fear, liquor, and cunt-heat. I threw myself on to her. A feel between thighs reeking with sweat, with her cunt in a lather, with the sweat dropping in great drops from my face, with sweat running down my belly on to my prick and my balls; I shoved. One loud "aha!" and my prick-tip was up against her womb-door. A mighty straight thrust; and the virginity was gone at that one effort.
Right up there with but a shove or two as far as I recollect, and without trouble, my sperm spouted directly my tool rubbed through the wet, warm cunt-muscles. Then I came to my senses; where was I? has she let me, or had I forced her violently.
She laid quietly under me with closed eyes and open mouth, panting; I was upon her, up her, pressing heavily upon her rather than holding her; then thrusting my hands under her fat bottom I recommenced thrusting and fucking.   She spent. On I went driving as if I meant to send my prick into her womb, fell into a half dreaminess, and became conscious of a great wetness on my ballocks; it was her discharge more than mine, the most copious I recollect, excepting from one woman. Then I dropped off on her side.
 Her backside was still naked, when I looked at her in all ways as she lay, and saw traces of sperm on her thighs and chemise.  My shirt and drawers were spermed, but had not a trace of blood.  Her flesh was beautifully white. She had on nice white stockings, and the flashy garters; she dad a tolerable quantity of hair on her quim on the belly side. I sat at the side of the bed, got off boots, trousers, and drawers; then laying down gently inserted my longest finger and delicately began rubbing her clitoris which I could see protruding of a fine crimson color. Then she moved; she was not asleep, but dazed by the fuck, fear of the lightning, the excitement, the heat, and the fumes of the wine combined.
She stared at me, pulled down her clothes, and tears began to run down her cheeks. What a lot of women I have had cry at such times "Don't cry my darling." She turned on to her face, and hid it. For a quarter of an hour, I talked, but she did not answer. I told her she had spent, that I knew she had had pleasure.  So soon as my rammer was up to the mark, up her it went fucking, and again I felt it's stem well wetted. She was a regular streaming spunker.
After that, "I am going downstairs," said she. "I'll come." "No don't." "You only want to piddle." "Yes," said she faintly. "Piddle here,—what will it matter?" "I can't." "I'll go out if you won't bolt the door." "It's no good bolting the door,—you have ruined me." I went outside, closed the door, and heard the rattle in the pot. When I re-entered she was sitting at the side of the bed crying quietly; she did nothing but look at me, but without speaking. "Arrange yourself in case any one comes to the door." "No one will come." "The milkman?" "He will put it down inside the porch." She sat down the picture of despair. Never had I felt more lewd, I was mad that day with lewdness. "Let's feel your cunt," said I. "I have spent in it three times." "I don't care what you do, you may do what you like,—it's of no consequence."  "Don't hurt me," said she. "I have not hurt you."
"Yes you have." "Let's look." That roused her. "Oh! no,—no,—no,—you shan't."  "You should wash it out." "Oh?—oh!" said she, "if I should be with child I shall never be married."
She drank more sherry, and promised to wash. Then I went downstairs, fetched up the broach and the ten sovereigns, and gave them to her. "How shall I say I got it?" "Does he know how much you have saved?" "Yes." "Is it a year's wages?" "Yes,"—and she began to cry again. "What shall I say about the broach?" "That you bought it,—let's lay down and talk." She yielded instantly, I threw up her clothes, she pushed them down. Then I lay feeling her quim, and got out her bubbies, she submitted, laying with her eyes closed, till my rubbing on her clitoris made her sigh. Then up her, I felt her wetting my prick-stem, and shot my sperm into her at that intimation of her pleasure.
  I went down with her to tea, there I pulled her on to my lap, and we began to look at Fanny Hill. I could not get a word out of her, but she looked intently at the pictures. I explained their salacity. "Hold the book dear, and turn over as I tell you."  How sensitive she was. "Let's come upstairs."  Then she groaned, "Oh! pray leave off,—I'm almost dead,—I shall have one of my fainting fits." "Lay still darling, I shall come soon,"—but it was twenty minutes hard grinding before my sperm rose.
Then she laid motionless and white through nervous exhaustion, excitement, and loss of her spermatic liquid, which I kept fetching and fetching in my long grinding. She told me afterwards that she could not tell how often she spent. I had never been randier or stronger, nor enjoyed the first of a woman more.
She was a most extraordinary girl.  She cried every ten minutes, and looked at me.  Then after I had recovered and began to talk, a tear would roll down her cheek.
About nine o'clock she said. "Do go, my sister will be here,—and the bed wants making."  She made no resistance.
My soiled shirt.—Jenny's account of herself.—Fucking and funking.—Poor John!—-Of her pudenda.—It's sensitiveness.—Erotic chat.—Startled by a caller.—Her married sister's unsatisfied cunt.—How she prevented having children.—Doubts her husband's fidelity.—Jenny taught the use of a French letter.—Hickery-pickery, and catamenial irregularities.
When I got home I looked at my linen; never had it been in such a mess after female embraces. I had taken no care about it, it was be-spunked in an unusual degree, and lots of thinnish stains were on the tail which made me think that one or both of us must have spent copiously.  There were no signs of blood, and taking stock of the sensations I had experienced, "Jenny has had it before," I said to myself. Then came a fear that her discharge was from a clap, but I dismissed that from my mind.
So I washed the tail of my shirt, laid it under my arse to dry, gave it a natural stain of piss, and went to bed reflecting and wondering who had first penetrated Jenny's privates.
A day or two afterwards I went to see her and shammed a knock. She opened the door. "Oh!" she exclaimed as I entered, "now you shan't,—you shan't again." "I shan't what my dear?" "I know why you came here,—but you shan't." "I want a chat,—-don't be foolish,—come here,—I won't do anything,—I don't want anything,—but come here."
I got her into the parlour, and on to the sofa, then talked, then got baudy. "Do just let me feel your thighs,—what harm can it do when I have been between them." "No". "Just a feel,—there I won't put my finger further,—oh! Jenny you like my finger,—be quiet dear,—just let me feel it." Half an hour after she had said, "Now you shan't," my prick was in her.  We spent another afternoon in talking and fucking, and she partly in crying and bemoaning her evil deeds.
I had not only opened her cunt, but opened her heart and mouth at the same time. She was the funniest, frankest little woman I ever knew. She told me all her past life, her future expectations, asked my advice, deplored her wickedness to her young man, and all in an hour. She spoke the same incessantly afterwards. In a fortnight I knew everything about her from her birth, and about all her family; it was as if for the first time in her life she had had a confident.
"What shall I do with your money?" "Put it with the rest." "But he knows what I've got,—we always tell each other." "Keep it to get a good stock of clothes before you are married." "But he knows all about my clothes." "Put it in a little at a time, or don't tell him till you are married; then say you kept him in ignorance for a pleasant surprise, or tell him nothing at all about it,—you will have more than that." "I don't want your money, I fear it will bring me harm."
"Well give it back to me Jenny." But Jenny did not seem to see the advantage of that; so she kept it, and had more besides in time.
  "Oh I take care of my cap, you will tear it,—I'll take it off."  But Jenny became speechless always after three cock-shoves, and began moistening the intruder with all her cunt-power.
 "Oh I dear what have you made me do? oh! if I am in the family way!—oh! if he finds it out, he won't marry me! and he is such a good young man, and so fond of me,—o—o—-ho—ho!—I've behaved very bad to him,—and I didn't mean,—oho!—it's all your fault, oho! —I didn't know what I was about,—I never do when it lightens,—oho! Do you think he will find it out when we are married?" she would ask in her calmer moments, after she had cried herself out.
I tried to comfort her, told facts, and many inventions of my own, of how I had had women, who afterwards married and whose husbands had never known that they had been broached.
"Is it true really!—oh! do tell me the truth,—if he finds it out I will drown myself, I'm sure he will,—it's all your fault,—you must be a bad man to take advantage of a poor girl in the house alone." "But if you're not in the family way, he can't find out until you are married, and then it will be too late.  "Oh! sir you do say such funny things."
This went on for weeks. "Oh! it's my time, and it's not come on." Then with joy, "Oh! I'm all right, but you can't do anything to-day,—oh! if my Mistress should find out, or if my sister should come home and catch you here,—oh! if the next-door neighbours should see you come here so often, and tell my Mistress." One or another of these fears was always upon her, but did not prevent our fucking. At that time Sarah was away, and Louisa Fisher still ill, so Jenny had all my essence; and later on as much as Louisa and Sarah spared me.
Jenny's cunt was well-haired, and had rather large inner lips; not so large as I have seen in many women, but larger than I liked. Her tube was easy. What a fight I had when first I saw it. "I won't be pulled about like that,—no it's shameful." "I dare say your John has seen it." That always sent her off howling, and when she had subsided she let me do as I liked. "It's a nasty thing to pull me about like that." But it came soon to the old world-wide habit: a feel and a look before the entry.  It is breaking in a woman to baudiness which is the happiness of the honeymoon, not the hard burst through a bit of gristle.
 She swore that no man had even put his hands on it till I did. "Am I different from other woman?" She was indignant at the doubt, and honestly and truly I believe. A schoolfellow used to look at her quim, she at her schoolfellow's, she always thought hers was the most open of the two, she always could put her finger up easily, "but you did hurt me through, though I did not bleed. My sister says she did bleed a little when she first had her husband,"—and Jenny now described her sister's first night, and her sister's form, and rather wetted my lust for her sister.
I came to the conclusion that she was born loose at her inlet, or had broken through the cover when quite young, and that no prick had rubbed her but mine; but her organ was a peculiar one in it's habit of distilling its liquids.
I have told how my shirt was stained at first, and soon found that Jenny was one of those women who spend rapidly, frequently, and copiously. I have met I think two like her in my career, to the time I correct this.
On the second day's poking I noticed this and became fully aware of it afterwards. When I put my prick up her, and began my movements; a shiver and a sigh escaped her almost directly, her bum gave a heave, a discharge came from her, and if I pulled my prick out then, it was perfectly wet. It used in fact to run out a little, and if pushing one hand well under her arse (which was not so easy, for she had a fine backside), I felt the root of my prick, or rather the end of the stem, I could feel her moisture running down one of her bum-cheeks, or between them. That over by the time I spent we usually discharged simultaneously. Her voluptuousness was greater when we spent together, than on her preliminary discharge.  It is difficult to describe these sensations.
I frigged her several times, and got a copious discharge from her, thin, milky, and barely sticky, yet it left a strong stain on linen. She was astonished when I told her of her peculiarity. Perhaps she wondered what her poor John would think of it. I can't say I altogether admired her wetness; I took a dislike to a tall thin girl who was much of the same sort as Jenny, but that girl was quite slippy-cunted, though not with the whites. This was since.
(Another woman who had this sensitive and sensuous [for it was both] organization, was the sister of an intimate friend, and whom I have fucked since the above was written. I don't know that I shall say anything more about the lady, so tell of her cuntal peculiarity here. She was plump, fair-faced, had a fine complexion, and in face strongly resembled the queen. She was to be married.)
When her young man came to town, and Jenny went out with him, the girl upbraided herself. When I next saw her after his visit she felt herself a deceiving wretch, and cried. Now would I please desist, and not make her sin any more. But the persuasion was too great, the recollection of her pleasure too strong, and never did I go away without having plugged her.
Did she love her young man? Yes she supposed she did; he was kind, attentive, and would make a good husband. She wanted to get married, to have a home of her own; besides he was not a workman, but a tradesman, and when married they would have a shop, and be in a higher position. She always spoke more of the house and shop, and her liberty, than of her young man.
She was of a highly nervous organization, and through me she was to be shocked severely. She half fainted the first day I took liberties with her, thunder and lightning gave her an inclination that way, twice afterwards she nearly fainted, any sudden thing annoyed her and turned her white. One occasion I'll tell of now, the other in due course.
 I used to leave my hat and stick downstairs, so that in case of surprise I might stand in the hall, and say I had called to enquire.   "It's my wife," I said. Down I rushed for my hat, and returned to the bed-room; and then Jenny opened the door. She had called to make some enquiry, and went away. I heard the door close, but no further noise or movement, then crept downstairs.
There sat Jenny on a chair, just recovering from a half faint. "Oh!" said she, "I nearly dropped down."  But Jenny never could joke. It was always dreadful, and she was to be punished in some way for her evil deeds with me.
I delighted in talking baudy to her, told her smutty stories about the women I had had, described their charms, and any special lasciviousness connected with them. Her astonishment was great; her curiosity intense; she in return told me all she knew about every other woman, and all her own little baudy doings. Never was a woman so frank about such matters. When I left her I doubt whether her dear John could have told her half what she could have told him about fucking, and the two articles that copulation is done with.
 She, or rather he, did not mean to have any more, they could not afford to keep them. "How did they stop it?" I asked Jenny. She did not know. But one night the sister wanted particularly to sleep at home, and had asked Jenny if for once she would sleep in the house alone. She consented though frightened. I proposed sleeping with her, and we passed a very delicious night together: a man and woman fresh to each other, always do in bed.
 That night I learned that her sister had slept away, expecting to catch her husband out in some infidelities.  That annoyed her.  I was a long time in getting out of Jenny what the man did, at length she said, that just as the stuff was coming, he pulled it out, and it went all over her sister's thighs or her belly, and often before she had had her own pleasure. Her sister thought it was just as well not to be married, as to go on like that.
That was not all. He used at first to do it every night, and now not once a week, said he could do without it, that he did not care about it, and so on. She believed that he had other women, and that was more aggravating because she wanted it herself more than ever. She was not so well, she told Jenny for want of fucking, she liked it, and would willingly have more children though she was so poor. I asked cautiously if she had heard of the skins which people put over their pricks, and into which they spent their seed? Jenny had not. I explained what they where. She said she would ask her sister about it. I cautioned her about showing that she knew too much. A few days afterwards Jenny told me her sister had tried them, but they did not like them, besides they could not afford them. What Jenny's sister paid for French letters I don't know, I used to pay nine pence each.
These two women talked often about such matters; and each day Jenny told me what her sister had said. Soon I knew all about her sister's doings, from the night she lost her virginity to the birth of her last child.
Jenny and I settled down quite matrimonially, I saw her certainly four days a week, or else every day excepting Sundays. At times I spent the whole day there, took wine, and meat, and newspapers. She cooked, and very badly. We ate and drank together, and fucked, she cried about John and her wickedness, and her fears of being found out. Then I read to her the news, and also every baudy book I could get hold of, and explained to her every use that could be made of our tools, both male and female, from flat-cocking to buggery, so far as I knew,—but I did not know so much as I do now.
To prevent its being known I was there, we got quite cunning. I was not to come at eleven o'clock, because then the butcher came; nor at twelve, because the girls were always at the window next door; between one and two o'clock I was safe, because the family was always at dinner at that time; at three the milkman came, and I avoided him. So with a little trouble I pretty well escaped observation, during the eight or ten weeks which I did husband duty, and perhaps as much as some two husbands would have done.
Once she was awfully uneasy, for her courses had not come on, and shed flood of tears. She would lose her John, poor fellow! When in that way she was always pitying him, but she was always irregular in her menstruation, which rendered it difficult to judge of her condition. Oh! she was sure she was now in the family way, she had symptoms; she had asked her sister how she had felt when she had conceived, and her own symptoms were the same.  "Go and get something, go and see some one."  I don't believe she was in the family way. Years after I heard she had never had a child, though long married.

And now I was to become acquainted with her sister,—the married one. Jenny had no brother, had none of that knowledge about boy's cocks which girls of the humbler classes have when they have brothers.
 It would have been odd if it had not, for every time I poked Jenny we talked about her sister, indeed all our talk, unless about her sweetheart, and her fears was about fucking. I don't recollect any woman I have had who was so anxious to know all, and delighted to hear of my amours, and the descriptions I gave of my various women.  For all that she thought it wicked, and that they and I, and she, would be punished by the Almighty (her ideas about the action of Providence were peculiar).
It was the good fortune of her married sister to give me one of the most laughable, but yet natural, salacious, voluptuous treats I ever had, without her knowing she had done so,—and from that came consequences which affected that lady herself.
I have always been highly delighted to see modest women naked or undress, or doing their toilet and little affairs, when they had no idea that any one saw them. I have looked through dozens of key-holes, bored holes in doors, waited breathless and half-naked for hours at night, have risen by day-light to enable me to get these treats. I had seen as already said, the cunts of my aunt and cousins, young ladies and others bathing, etc. (and as I shall tell of, have since seen a noble lady frig herself.) I have seen in fact modest ladies at their most decent, as well as the most indelicate of their toilet performances, and think I prefer looking at them under such circumstances, rather than at the beautiful voluptuous creatures who undress willingly in my presence, for those are so intent on displaying their charms to the best advantage, to get a male erection and its crisis, as soon as possible, make much too evident what they do it for.
Jenny's sister gave me one of those natural displays. Had the lady been drilled in the art of unfolding her charms for the excitement of a male, and driving him into erotic fury, she could not have more effectually done so. Of the many displays of female charms (of modest females) I have seen, I never had one so gradual, natural, voluptuous, and cock-stiffening, as she unconsciously gave me.
I called on Jenny one Saturday afternoon, she had said I had better go quite early, but I did not. It was another sultry day, thunder had been heard, the atmosphere was heavy, but no rain had fallen; and the sun was bright and blazing hot. Said Jenny, "I'm frightened to let you stop, my sister is going to leave off work early, and she will be here about five o'clock,—don't come in." I would. "We shan't be half-an-hour,—it's not half-past three."  She was on the bed, I between her thighs, ready to drop into her, indeed I'm not sure that my prick had not touched her cunt, when a knock and a ring came at the street-door.
To fully understand what follows it should be known that the old lady my friend, for fear that the rooms should be used; had locked up all the rooms but the parlours and a little closet overlooking the street, and the servants' bed-room, and had taken away the keys. I did not know that then, I knew it that day.
"Oh! my God it's my sister,—what shall I do?—I shall be ruined." Pale as death, I thought she was going to faint again.
"Don't be nervous, I'll go and hide in the room below, and when she is downstairs or up here, go out quietly, and leave the street-door ajar." "Oh! all the rooms are locked up." "I'll go into the parlours then, —you get her downstairs." "Oh! she always goes into the parlour first, and sits down a minute, and talks." There was no time for us to talk, more, for the woman knocked again. "Fetch my hat and stick (it was in the parlour),—you get her into the kitchen, then I'll slip out leaving the street-door ajar." Down we both went, three stairs at a time, up I went again with hat and umbrella, and had only got to the top when I heard poor trembling Jenny opening the street-door. I leant over the banisters, and listened.
"I've knocked twice Jenny." "Did you?—I was dozing,—the thundery weather makes me so queer.—Have a cup of tea, and take a table out into the garden,—it will be fresher there to have tea."
"No I've got my new dress, it will rumple it if it's long in the bundle, I must open it. Such a pretty one,—you will like it I think.—Tom did when I showed him the pattern,—I'll take it up to the bed-room, and hang it up."
Jenny's voice rose almost to a shriek. "Oh! no, no, don't,—come and have tea first,—I'm so thirsty, so tired,—come downstairs." "Well you go and make it, I'll only just hang it up in the bed-room, and come down directly," said her sister.
Jenny objecting, the sister answered angrily, "What are you in such a hurry for tea for?—it's not time,—well have it by yourself, I can't drink it,—I had a lot of beer at dinner, and Tom gave me nearly a pint before I left him,—it was so hot, I was so thirsty,—it's on my chest now,—I can't put tea on the top of it yet." "Well if you won't, I may as well go up with you," said Jenny. Footsteps came nearer, and hat, stick, and self, I threw under the bed. Jenny came in looking like death. "She won't find me here,—get her down soon," was all I had time to say in a whisper before the sister following Jenny entered the room. I had quite hidden myself.
The bed had been a good one, the old gentleman and lady had slept on it for years; it was large and handsome, but being shabby and worn out, had that very month only been put to servants' use. Round it were old red valances hanging to the floor, things not given to servants. No sooner was I under the bed, than I saw there were little openings at the seams, and some moth-holes, which permitted me to see through them. At one spot near to my shoulder as I lay crouching and doubled up, was a long slit where the valance had been torn down. By raising myself on my elbow, and squeezing my head against the mattress I could see perfectly, but no person in the room would have noticed me, even though the room was as bright as day, for the thick red hangings hid me in darkness under the bed, and I was on the side away from the window. I gazed earnestly at Jenny's sister through this opening and others.
She was a well-grown, strong woman, with a handsome round face, and dark hair and eyes; she had shortish petticoats, and thickish ankles in good lace-up boots which, made much noise as she walked about. She had a huge paper parcel in her hands, which she placed on the bed; then for a moment she rested her bum on the bed-side, and Jenny did the same by the side of her. The parcel was between them, her ankles were within a few inches of my nose; I gently lifted the valance, and saw up the calf of her legs, her petticoats cut as they were in those days, being drawn up by sitting down.
"I can't untie it,—cut it." "The scissors are downstairs." "I'll go and fetch them." "Oh! no,—where is the knife that I cut my corns with?" "Oh I never mind,—there, I've done it,—I've broken it,"—and she rose up as did Jenny from the bed, and both now stood standing facing the side of the bed where I lay.
I heard the rustling of paper, the rustling of a dress, the noise of feet paddling about. "Oh! it is nice,—what did it cost?—who made it?" "I made the skirt, and Miss Skinner the body,—she charged me seven and six,—it's not dear, is it?—I'll hang it up, then the creases will come out." "Let's hang it up first." And then on a peg at the back of the door the dress was hung up, and for a moment, both women stood admiring it, their backs towards me and the bed.
"Look," said the sister, "it just wants a little something done to the sleeves,—she said it was not finished there,—oh! yes here it is,—I would not wait for her, I can easily do it myself,—I was glad to get it, and half feared I should not get it for Sunday,—the old beast never keeps her promise, but she has this time,—I gave her sixpence extra.
"Don't," said Jenny in an agitated manner, "let's have tea first." "No I must finish it," and as she spoke she undid her dress, and slipped it off. A beautiful handsome pair of breasts came in view. "Oh! Lord look at my chemise,—look how I've sweated—see how the stain from the dress has gone through under my arms,—I stink of sweat,—how glad I shall be when the weather is cooler." As she said that with a slight effort she drew her arms through the sleeves of her chemise, and lifting her freed arms showed a pair of black hairy armpits. I began to thrill and cock-stiffen. She lifted her fine arms up, and looked at the stained chemise as it hung over her stays, then with a heave and a push she freed her breasts, so that they were right over the top of her stays showing the nipples; then with naked arms, she began to work at the sleeves of the dress hanging up behind the door.
Jenny was all this time moving about in a restless manner, taking every now and then a hurried glance at the valance of the bed which concealed me; and as it seemed to me placing herself in such a position, as to prevent my seeing her sister's upper nakedness; but it was quite useless, I could see all she had exposed.
She worked a few minutes talking to Jenny, who was making as much noise with her feet as she could. Then the sister looked up, and leaving off her needlework said, "This will make Tom want to do it to me,—a new dress always does, when he sees me in it,—he ain't done it lately, he will to-morrow." They both laughed, and she went to work again.
Again she stopped, Jenny then seated herself at the edge of the bed over me. "Oh! how awfully hot I am,—what a bore petticoats are,—I declare I've a good mind to leave them off this weather." She stepped forwards. "I'll take them off, I can slammack about to-night,—no one will see me." "Oh! no don't," said Jenny in an excited way; but she quickly unlaced her stays, untied her petticoats, and slipped them down to her ankles. Her chemise which was no longer held up to her shoulders by the arms, slipped down with them, and she stood naked before me excepting her boots and stockings. She seemed to have forgotten that her chemise was no longer held up, for just as the petticoats fell below her cunt, she made a slight grasp as if to hold them up, then she gave a laugh, "That's cool enough," said she.
"Don't,—what are you doing?" shrieked Jenny, "put on your chemise,—you're naked,—you're naked,"—and she tried to pull up the chemise; but the woman stepped away from the clothes as they lay on the floor, caught up the chemise, threw it on the bed, and placed petticoats and stays on a chair by the washhand stand. I saw large hips, a mass of dark hair at her cunt, a large white backside, fine round thighs, and limbs; in brief a fine, plump, well-fed woman, a splendid sight. The innocence of the action was beautiful. "Oh! isn't it nice and cool," she said, "I've got so hot walking."
"Put on your things,—what are you doing?" said Jenny. "Oh! isn't it nice!—I wish one could go in one's skin this weather," she replied. She scratched her motte-hair, and felt her arse, and seemed so pleased with herself. Then she looked under each of her armpits. "Oh! Lord how hot I am,—where is a towel?" She took one, and began gently rubbing herself with it under her armpits, put it down, and again scratched the hair of her motte.
"I'm surprised at you," said Jenny walking about, and I'm sure trying to prevent me from seeing her sister, though she always declared to me afterwards that she had no such intention. "Cover yourself, you'll catch cold."  "Oh! I can't bear it open in thundering weather." The fact was we always shut it when we went to the bed to exclude noise, and left the door open, to hear if any one knocked at the street-door. "Put something on you at all events," said Jenny, "it's not decent." "Decent?—you are modest all of a sudden."
"It's delicious!" She walked round the bed to the window, opened it, came back naked as she was, and went on working at her dress; and so for a quarter of an hour did I see this handsomely-made woman naked, first her side, then her belly, then her bum came in view, till I was driven mad by the state of my penis which was throbbing with excitement, and urging me to frig it.
"Well that will do," she said as she finished, "the creases will never be noticed where they are,"—and she walked backwards to the bed, the short distance she was from it, and sat down at the edge just where the valance had dropped. With care I pulled the valance, and the seam opened more, but not much. I raised myself on my elbow, my eyes to the opening.  I had a wonderfully keen scent for the aroma of a woman, and swear I smelt her cunt distinctly, though I could not see it. She sat there for full five minutes, talking to Jenny about the dress, whilst I kept sniffing up the aroma from her flesh and her love-orifice, and feeling my quivering prick, whilst my greedy eyes gloated on the fat thighs, so far as I could see them.
At length she turned round. "I'll put my slippers on,"—and sitting down opposite the bed on the chair on which she had placed her petticoats, she put one leg up, and began unlacing the boot, then between and under the thighs I saw the dark hairy notch. She had scarcely put herself in that attitude before putting her foot down, she came to the bed, put one foot up, and there continued unlacing it,—and there was her cunt just visible, and within a foot of my greedy eyes, whilst she leisurely unlaced the boot on the bed, the other foot on the floor. Had I placed her there for the purpose I could not have done it better.
"Oh! don't," said Jenny, "take your foot off." "What's the matter?" replied she as if just noticing Jenny's excitement, "you've got one of your foolish fits on I think."  "Nonsense it's quite dry, besides it's on my chemise,—I wish you'd go and make tea, if you are in such a hurry,—one would think you had got St. Vitus' dance,"—for Jenny in her agitation, and also to make noise to prevent any indiscreet movement of mine being noticed, had kept moving about noisily and restlessly the whole time.
Silenced, she said no more, but still walked restlessly about, went at the back of her sister, and glared at the valance where she guessed my eyes were peeping. Her face was the picture of anxiety. But I did not look at that long, I was rivetted on her sister's form and dark-haired cunt; that cunt was at times slightly opened by the attitude she was in, and altered its shape as she moved.  I just touched myself, holding my breath restraining all emotion, gave one or two frigs, and a shower of sperm fell over my trowsers. If any man might be pardoned for having a solitary pleasure, it was I, placed in such a lust-stirring situation.
Further undressing.—Slippers wanted.—Toilet operations.— The effects of hash and beer.—A windy escape.—Feeling for the pot.—Sisters exeunt.—A crushed hat, and soiled trowsers.—A narrow escape.—My benevolent intentions towards Jenny's sister.
I thought I had had my pleasure in silence, but I was wrong, I was heard, I had given a slight sigh. The anxious ears of poor Jenny heard it. She made increased noise whilst her sister went tranquilly on, and unlaced her boots without taking any notice or hearing me, whilst the last drop of sperm was running over, and I was still looking at her cunt, and sniffing.
Then she stood looking at her boots. "Ah! this one wants soling,—where are my slippers?—where did I put them?" They were just under the bed, close by me. "Here they are," said Jenny rushing to the side, and pulling them out she gave them to her sister who took them, but instead of putting them on pulled off both her stockings. "I'll wash these to-night," said she, "and darn them the first thing to-morrow,—I'll cut my corns." "Oh! do come down and have tea,—you can cut your corns after you have washed your feet to-night,—oh! put something on, and come." "I won't be long,—you go and make tea." "No I shan't, I know you'll be an hour,—it will be spoiled." "I can cut them so much better by daylight,—I cut my toe last Saturday night you know," and without more ado she walked round the foot of the bed to the other side, where in front of the window was a small dressing-table, a looking-glass, and a chair by the side of it. She was now absolutely naked from head to foot. As she neared the window she said, "Oh! how delicious the air is blowing upon one's skin,—I quite hate putting on my chemise again." Jenny still kept moving about, and shuffling her feet; but the sister engrossed in herself, kept on talking about her dress, her Tom, the place she was going to on the morrow, and seemed to notice nothing. At length she placed one foot on the chair by the window, and began cutting her corns. And now I had a view of her backside and naked form from that side of the bed.
When she had finished one foot, she put it down, and sat on the edge of the bed. "Poof! how hot it makes me stooping,—it makes me sweat,—but I'll do the other,—drat the tight boots, they make corns,"—and up went the other foot. Out went my head, and up went the valance, but I was fearful of being seen, so took out my pen-knife, and cut a long slit in the valance. Then my eye was never still to her buttocks, but I could not see her seat of pleasure so well, so I took to the floor again, and saw her cunt better.
Then she stood for a minute looking over a little white blind into the gardens. "There is Mrs. B——- and her daughter walking." "Oh! pray put something on,—if they should see you." "Impossible they can't,"—and she stooped down, and began operating on the other corn.
"You beast," said Jenny. "I beg your pardon," said the sister, "I'm always windy when I have eaten hash, and drank beer,—I could not help it." "It's dirty," growled Jenny. "You're far enough off, and it's better out than in,"—and ceasing to chuckle, and as if half ashamed of herself she went on corn-cutting without speaking, but that did not suit Jenny who soon began a conversation, and shuffling about. She made no further allusion to the fart.
When she had finished it only seemed as if I had been looking at her there for a few seconds, but on that side of the bed she must have given me ten minutes of that lascivious gratification. I was so engrossed, so delighted that even the fart did not amuse me; it annoyed me; for it made her alter her position, and withdraw from my lustful gaze, that charm which perhaps no one but her husband had ever gazed upon so long and so earnestly.
Then she went back again to the other side of the bed, put on stockings and slippers, and getting up, "Where is the pot" said she, "is it this side or the other?" and began feeling under the valance within a few inches of me, but it was not there. Evidently it was usually there, indeed I know it was, but Jenny and I both pissed before we began to think of fucking, and I had put the pot under the washing-stand.
"Not there," shrieked Jenny rushing to the pot. The sister turned round and saw it, I peeped just in time to see her thighs open as she squatted, then came a heavy thump on the bed.  Then without pissing she got up, and came to the bedside. Poor Jenny excited beyond bearing by anxiety, had fainted on seeing her sister on the point of discovering me in searching for the pot.
She shook Jenny, threw water on her face, and Jenny soon recovered. "What on earth's the matter?—you give way, you do,—a woman need not faint like that, I'm sure," said she angrily, "you scared me dreadful." Jenny said nothing, but repeated that she wanted her tea, that thundery weather always made her feel sick and faint.
"Well we will go down at once,—I did not think you were ill." "You might have seen I was." "I did not, but I'll be ready in a minute." Again she squatted on the pot, thighs wide open, belly towards me, pissed like a water-spout, and let one or two little farts of which no notice was taken, whilst I with cock stiff was looking on, and again frigging myself. I could not help it, for every turn, every movement she made was such as if done expressly to show off her naked charms, and drive me randy-mad.
"Give me my night-gown Jenny, it's at the foot of the bed, and I'll only put my dress over it,—it's so hot." Jenny turned to take the night-gown from the bed. "I'll just wash a bit," said her sister, "I'm almost in a lather with heat and sweat." Pouring out water in the basin she placed it on the floor, and turning towards the bed squatted, and sluiced her cunt, then rubbed it dry with the towel. "That has made me comfortable," she remarked, and began putting on her frock.
As she did so she remarked, "You have not emptied the pot to-day,—you should, it smells this hot weather." "Yes I did," said Jenny innocently. "Well then you've peed a lot." "I've done it once or twice since morning," said Jenny hastily.
Then the sister went out first. When half-way downstairs I emerged from my hiding-place and listened, heard Jenny say, "I may as well empty the slops, you go and see if the water boils." Up came Jenny. "Oh! I'm ready to die,—hish!—be quiet." She emptied the pot and waters into a slop-pail, and went downstairs quickly whilst I followed her silently. I was covered with flue, and had managed to crush my hat; my trows-ers were partly unbuttoned, and one leg covered with spunk. We got to the ground-floor almost together, and there I stopped. So soon as I heard she was in the kitchen I moved along the passage, and slipped out, leaving the street-door ajar. Luckily a cab was close by, and I jumped into it. The first thing I did was to button up properly. I bolted past my servant as she opened the door to me, took another hat, wrapped the old one up in paper, and the same night tore out the lining, and threw both away in a bye-road.
I was in an indescribable state of excitement after this delicious afternoon, and was seized with an almost delirious letch for the woman. I was sleepless for a night or two, scheming how to possess her.
Early on the Monday I got to Jenny's, and spent the rest of the day fucking, and talking of the sight I had seen. My imagination helped to allay my excitement, for the form of her sister though more beautiful than Jenny's had still a family likeness to her, and as I clasped Jenny in my arms I pictured her as her sister, and enjoyed her as such.
I was cautious in my disclosures, for I found that Jenny who had been most inquisitive about other women, and delighted to hear about how they talked, and walked, and pissed, and fucked; was annoyed when I talked of her sister's nakedness. I ought not to have looked,—why I had seen more than she, her own sister,—a poor woman, and married, and she to have her thing looked at by a strange man,—her husband could not have seen more,—and so on. So though I described her sister's charms I took care not to express any admiration of them, nor to say I had frigged myself, and felt desire for her. Jenny had not noticed that my trowsers were undone, and sperm-soiled. I had not noticed that myself till I got out of the house on that eventful afternoon.
On the Monday when I saw Jenny, she declared that another hour's anxiety would have killed her. We found that the time from the minute the sister came into the bed-room, to the time she went downstairs was two hours. Jenny thought that she must have been half-an-hour working at her dress. Jenny had walked round the room trying if she could see me, or if I was looking, but could only do so once or twice at the holes, or fancy she did; but the long tear in the valance through which I could see with both eyes at once, and just above which her sister had put up her legs, she had never noticed; nor did she believe me when I said that I could see the cunt when her sister's backside was towards me, when near the window. So I made her lie down, and look from the floor whilst I stood naked, pretending to cut my corns. Then she said it was a shame of me to be peeping.
She did not contend any longer. "Do you mean to say, that if you had been under the bed, and had known a naked man was cutting his corns, you would not have peeped out?" No she would not; but had it been a naked woman perhaps she would, Jenny replied. So after she had heard from me how much I had seen of her sister's body, between her back-bone and her navel, and I had told her something which made her say, "Law has she!" though I can't recollect what it was, the subject dropped. Then I learnt from her more about her sister's wages, mode of life, and where she worked; for although the thing seemed ridiculous, I had a letch, and meant to try to put into that young woman if possible, though I had not then stroked Jenny many weeks. I liked variety.

On the following Sunday her young man was coming to London, and she was to spend the day with him at his relatives. Her sister was to keep the house, the husband was going elsewhere, so the sister would be alone,—all provided it was fine weather. Jenny had promised her Mistress that until her return she would never go out with her young man, and that is how Jenny kept her word. She knew I would not tell, would I?—I felt her cunt, and kissed her. "It's not very likely, is it my pet?" Then she snivelled, said she was very wicked, and hoped God would not punish her.
When I heard of this arrangement I lusted strongly. In vain I said to myself, "What again a married woman! in comfortable circumstances for her class, with two children,—a woman you have never spoken to,—can you expect to get her!" I did not expect it, but had a burning desire to see and speak to her, to look closely at, and have a chat with a woman whose privates I had seen so nakedly. It seemed to me to promise a titillating treat. Besides I had been so successful with women,—gay women had even been anxious to get me,—that a half-belief came over me, that if I had time, I could persuade even her to let me. Time was the difficulty, for she did not yet even know me by face (so I thought, but was wrong). At all events see her I would,—she was dissatisfied with her fucking, that I knew; she might be randy, and then be much less impregnable than she seemed; so I determined to see her on the Sunday that Jenny went out.
I could think only of one powerful means of getting her, if anything encouraged a hope, and that was by money. I had not too much then, though getting better off, but determined if ten pounds would tempt her, that she should have it. I was a long time I recollect pondering over the sum. The Sunday turned out fine, I put the gold in my purse, and went to the house just after their dinner-time, and after my luncheon, at which I fed myself up well, and to give me courage took an extra glass, for I had one of my nervous fits of funking come on, mixed with doubts about the morality of deliberately trying a married woman.
She opened the door, I walked straight in. "Who are you?" "Where is the housemaid?" said I, "I have promised Mrs. W——-to call and see from time to time." "Oh! I'm her sister sir, my name is——-, I sleep here every night sir, Mrs. W——- pays me to do so sir,—my sister is out sir,—I'm very sorry, but she is not at all well from being confined to the house so much,—I told her she might go to church,—it would be a change, and give her a little fresh air;—she will be back at half-past four sir." "Oh! so you are Mr. So-and-So?" "Yes I am." I walked into the parlours. There was a large beer-jug and two tumblers on the table, and ale in one glass. She rushed to take them away. "I beg pardon sir, but Mrs. W——— said we might sit in the parlours, when we have done work, and on Sundays besides, cause it's so dull in the kitchens." The woman was agitated at her sister being out, and at being caught drinking beer in the parlour; she thought I might make mischief, I suppose.
I told her that she need not disturb herself, for I should not stay long, and kept looking with cock already stiffening into her face, then at her arms, then at the bottom of her belly, and in my mind's eye seeing the dark hair down there.
I continued to be embarrassed, and so lost recollection of all I had intended to say and do, that I was actually going away. I asked one or two stupid questions: if letters had come, if any one had been, and so on; all the time thinking that I was looking through her clothes at her naked charms. I was in a sort of a trance of baudiness which muddled me; when noticing the ale-glass I asked, "What are you drinking?" "Fourpenny ale sir." That reply broke the spell, my senses returned, I thought of an excuse for stopping. "Give me a glass,—I'm thirsty." "That's the last of it sir." "Can't you get some?" "The pot-boy brought that,—it's Sunday, and the public is not always open." I looked at my watch. "It's not church-time yet, send some one to fetch some,—I'm so thirsty, and hot, and so tired,"—and I sat down. "I'm alone." "Is not your husband here?" "No, no one." "Do you mind fetching me some?" "If you don't mind waiting sir." "No." I gave her money. "How much?" "Oh! fill the jug,—not with fourpenny,—with the best ale,—ask them to draw it mild, and get me two bottles of ginger-beer". In a few minutes she was back,—I had given her a five shilling piece. "You may keep the change." "Thank you sir", said she quite touched and delighted. I always gave the change to girls whom I wanted to poke.
In her absence I went all over the house that was not locked up, even to the privy and coal-cellar, had satisfied myself that she was alone, and was getting quite myself again when she came back.
"Have a glass." "Thank you sir." "So you are Jenny's sister,—Jane's her name I think." Yes it was. "Aren't you afraid to be in the house of a night?" No she was not. "Sit down." "Thank you sir,"—but she stood.  We took ale together, and no doubt I spoke with all that kindness which a man shows towards a woman whom he desires to poke, I have heard women say that I have a winning, persuasive manner.
Gradually the conversation became about herself. "You've two children,—why not more?" "Oh! quite enough for poor people." "Well you see I can't get any." "Poor people are sure to have lots." "Two is not a lot,—how manage to stop at two?" "Oh! it's all chance." "Is not another coming?" She was getting flushed and excited. "Lord no, I hope not." "Don't you know?" "I don't." "Yes you do,—how old is your last?" "Four years." "If I were your husband I'd have a dozen." "Well you say you haven't any yet sir," said she. "No I can't get any." "Ah! if we had your money!—but with we poor people is different,—it's hard enough to fill the bellies of two."
"Oh! Lord," said she laughing spite of herself, "you are plain-spoken." I was in the vein now, did not say an improper word, but gave baudy hints, smutty suggestions about the dullness of sleeping alone, of the results of wives being away from husbands, etc., till her eyes twinkled, and she laughed much. I had now broken down the barrier, had brought myself to her level, and she as every other woman would have done, took advantage of it, and began to return my chaffing and banter, every woman feels instinctively that when a man is chaffing her (be it ever so decently veiled), about fucking, that she may safely return it: both are at once on a common level. A washerwoman would banter a prince, if the subject was cunt, without the prince being offended.
Jenny's sister went on chaffing, and drank ale freely. "Oh! I dare say, but why don't you have children?" "I can't get any I tell you, but I try." "Not much at home," said she, "from all I have heard." "No I try out as well, and get none,—I'm a safe man." Then I found she knew a lot about me and my affairs; She had actually worked at my house on some curtains, had seen me once, and knew my voice, though for the moment she had not recollected my face with my hat on when I entered the door that afternoon. But I had never seen her at my house to my knowledge, though if I had I was not likely to have noticed a common upholstress.
We went on chaffing, looking in each other's faces, each knowing we were talking about fucking. "Well Mrs.——— playing at mother and father's a delicious amusement, is it not?" "I don't know." "If you don't know we'd better try,—I'd give five pounds to be your husband for an hour,—and five pounds would buy you anew dress." "It would buy me three," said she without noticing the other part of my remark. "Three?" "Yes three,—I can't afford more than thirty shillings for a best dress." "Really!—such a beautiful creature as you ought to have plenty of dress, for I have rarely seen a more lovely woman, and so well grown,—I'll bet you have fine limbs." She was flattered, the praise upset her, her eyes tinkled. Yes she might have done better she knew, but it was to be. I went close to her, caught and kissed her. She made not too strong a resistance, but got away. "That's going a little too far." "That's the beginning of a game at mother and father, and you are going to have the three dresses." She laughed in a funny way. "I don't want to be a mother any more, so I don't want any games." But she seemed to me to look as if she did.
What did she get for stopping at the house? Five shillings a week, and her supper and breakfast,—that was an object. "Five shillings?—why my kiss was worth that,—let me give you another, and I'll give you ten shillings for the two." "You don't mean that," said she with a low laugh. "On my soul yes,—but you must give me a kiss as well." She shook her head. "It's going too far," said she. "There it is, I'll trust you,—you won't take it without letting me." She was then sitting. I put the half sovereign into her hand. "Thank you sir," said she softly.  She a married woman knew the hard line her hand pressed against, for she moved her hand away. "Now your promise,—kiss me." "I didn't promise." "You took the money." "There then," said she giving me a kiss, and jumping up sharply, "we are going too far,—we really are now,—we don't either of us know what we are about I think." "I don't think I do," said I, "for though I never saw you before, I've never been so struck with a woman in my life, I'd give ten pounds to be in bed with you an hour."
 I fancied she kept looking askant at that part of my person. She was getting red in face, hot, and confused in manner. Just then I observed a bed pillow on the sofa, she had I guessed been laying down after dinner. "Why here is a pillow,—you've been on the sofa with your husband,—you have been playing at mother and father here." She burst out into laughter. "Why I've not seen him for a week." "Then you've been tickling by yourself." "Tickling?" (it was said quite innocently.) "Yes between your legs."  Then she laughed, and said, "Well—this—really is,—oh!"
"Not at all,—you are lovely, exquisite, delicious,—if you've really not seen your husband for a week, let me,—who will know?—we are in the house alone,—let us,"—and standing close to her I put my arms round her, but I felt afraid of going too far.
"You must not talk like that." "Oh! nonsense,—I'll give you six pounds." "Oh! no, you don't mean what you say,—it's wild talk." I took out my purse, and putting six pounds on the table in gold, just as I had done to her sister the ten pounds; there said I, "That is yours,"—and pulled out my prick. She got up, and ran to the other side of the room as if I had pulled out a pistol. "You're talking too plain sir,—it's going too far,—if you expose yourself like that I'll go to the street-door." I'm at a loss to know why I pitched upon six pounds, I had intended ten, but cannot tell why I offered that particular sum. I have often thought since, of what made me take that economical figure.
"Sit down." "I won't if you expose yourself,—it's not gentlemanlike."  "Now sir don't." "Sit down my darling,"—and getting her to the sofa we went on talking. "How foolish,—who would know,—why not delight me,—why not take the money." "No." "Do now." "No." "Won't you?" "Of course not,—no,—no." "Well kiss me." "There then." "Do let me dear." "I won't,—I won't,—I shan't,—there."
Just then I noticed one of her garters was hanging down by her foot. "Your garter's undone," said I. I stooped forwards, and took it up. "Give it me." I kissed it. "No,—it's been so near where I want to go, —I shall keep it till I've been there." "You will keep it a long time then."
She drank more ale, it was sweet and strong, and I went on talking. Thought I, "She must want it if she has not seen her husband for a week." Where did she garter.—below or above knee? "Let me feel?" I felt outside, then pinched the leg, then higher up. She began looking me full in the face, and laughing at my smutty insinuations. I pulled her back on the sofa, kissed her, and let her rise up again. I repeated the pull and the kiss more than once, and then as she was rising up and saying, "Now don't pull me about like that," I put her hand on my prick which I had slipped out again. "Oh!"—and she let it go.  "Let me now,—there's a darling." "I shan't." "Do." "I shan't." She repulsed my hand, but did not get away from me. I thought from the way she looked at me, and the quiet manner in which she pushed away my hand, that she was hot with lust, and could scarcely refuse me. I pulled her to me, and got my finger on her clitoris. "Do let me feel your cunt, and fuck,—put my prick in there,—let us,—do darling," said I twiddling like mad, and rattling out a volume of baudiness.
She bore it all for a minute quietly, wriggling and saying, "I shan't,—I won't,—no, now take your hand away." Then with a sudden impulse she pushed me off, got up, and sat down further from me on the sofa. "Oh! now be quiet,—let me think a minute,—I don't know whether I'm on my heels or my head." She picked up something which had fallen at her feet, as she had doubled herself down when my finger was stimulating her randiness.
Then catching her by her waist I pulled her back on to the sofa, and threw myself on her. "You shan't" were the last words I recollect her uttering; as I threw up her clothes and felt the wet gash. My prick the next instant was buried in it, and we were fucking.
"Don't,—oh.—take it out,—do,—oh!—oh!—ohoe!" she murmured. She had fetched me, and pump; pump, pump, pump, went my spunk up her. Then delicious oblivion. As I came to myself I found her arse still moving. "Oh! do" she murmured. She was besides herself, with desire to spend.
But my prick instead of obeying me as it usually did on such exciting occasions, refused, and shrinking left her cunt, to my intense vexation. "I haven't done it," said she softly, and with disappointment as her bum ceased its labors, and my tool lay dropping outside her quim.
We spoke no more, but I lay trying to squeeze it up again. To stiffen it I felt up and round her, rubbed the tip on her spermy nymphoe, she made gentle efforts to second me, but it was of no use, so I rolled off. She sat up, and after looking at me for a minute with eyes filled with baudiness, began like all women, to feel if her hair was all right. "Were you just coming my dear?" She made no reply.
She had not taken any care to arrange her dress, it had dragged up behind her bum, and the petticoats were up to her knees, the leg which had lost its garter was half naked. Taking her round the waist I put my hand on to her cunt, and titillated the clitoris. She let me go on, and continued feeling about her hair. Then looking me full in the face, looking as if she were ready to spend, she pushed me away. "Don't,—don't,—I don't like it done that way." "You can do it that way yourself, can't you?" "Of course I can."  "Oh! I dare say," and she walked to the looking-glass, then went to the window, and looked out into the garden without paying any heed to my exciting remarks. I sat on the sofa feeling my cock, and trying to stiffen it, but it was useless; so I tried to interest her in something else, feeling annoyed, though I had nothing to be ashamed of.
Jenny's bed-room.—The money hid.—On the bed.—Fears of maternity.—Inspection of sex.—The use of a husband.— Another Sunday.—Regrets and refusal.—Resistance overcome.— Jenny's ignorance.—Her Master returns.—Difficulty in getting at Jenny.—Her sister waylaid.—Against a fence.— Jenny's marriage, and rise in life.
 said I. "You really mean it?" "Of course." She took it up. "It's a real God-send,—it comes just in time,—who'd have thought it?" said she as if to herself. "I must put it where it can't be found, and take it home to-morrow." She went to the door. "Aren't you going?" "No I'm going to do it again soon." "But you're not." "But I am." Without reply she went upstairs. I had meant to have ready a stiff-stander, when she came back, but changed my mind, and followed her. She was nearly at the top when hearing me she waited, and said, "What do you want?"
"I'm coming to see what you do." "You won't." "I will." "I'll come down and wait till you are gone." "I'll stop till your sister comes home." "Do go down sir," said she in a coaxing tone. "No." She sat down on the top-stairs, I did the same a few stairs below her. Her knees were wide apart, my mind went to the afternoon when I had seen her naked. That glorious two hours.  I stared on without uttering a word.
"What are you staring at?" said she at last, "go down, and I'll be down in a minute." "I'm looking at your cunt, it's open slightly, I can see my spunk in it." "Oh!" said she jumping up, "I never heard such a man in my life."  She then turned her bum round towards me, and I put my hand quickly up her clothes, as she went up the stairs. "Oh! you frighten me so I don't know what I'm doing." I followed her into the room, and she locked up the money in a bag that was in a drawer. Turning round she saw my prick out, and as stiff as ever. It was the recollection of what had taken place in that room on the Saturday week previous, which had rendered me capable again. I closed on her, kissing and inciting her, pulled her to the bed, and began feeling her. "I don't like that done,—you know you can't,—leave me alone,—go down,—oh! don't."
I coaxed her for a second. She got on to the bed, and opened her thighs wide like a well-trained fuckster to help me, I inserted my penis, and she met me with passion. I was not so rapid, the want of a spend was not now overpowering my senses; whilst she had had two hours baudy talk, been fucked, but cheated of her pleasure, and been left at the critical moment, unsatisfied, with my spunk in her. She was dying for a spend, wanting it like a woman who has been for a week unsatisfied.  "Oh! it's big," she gasped whilst I was still sensible, "oh!—I'm—com—coming,"—and gluing her mouth to mine she spent copiously ere I'd well nigh began to feel the full urging of lust.
The constriction of her cunt, the delight of feeling her pleasure increased my stiffness. "Let me wash,—do." "You won't come on the bed again." "Yes I will, but let me wash." I clutched her like a vise. "NO I'm coming,—you'll spend again." My prick stiffer and stiffer drove with fury up against her womb. "Oh! don't push so hard." "Fuck my darling,—there,—the tip's only in,—it's in your spunk, and mine together." "Oh! you hurt." On I drove. Her backside's play began, her lips were glued to mine, our tongues played against each other, and we spent together with ejaculations. "Oh!—don't,—you hurt,—oh! oh!—I'm coming."
"Let me get up,—let me wash,—pray do."   "You'll have a child this day nine months my dear." "Oh! my God don't say so,—but I believe I shall." "You are all right, I don't get them you know." "Have you never had any children!" "None at home."
I got up to piss, and saw my thick sperm in the basin. "You've washed it all out my dear,—you are safe." She shook her head.  Then she went to the drawer and looked at the money, as if she doubted its being there. "It's a fact," she said locking it up again, "are you not going down?" "No." "I wish you would,—I want to be by myself." "You want to piddle." "You are a strange man," and taking the pot she pissed. "You'd better empty all," said I, "if your sister Jenny comes back and sees it, she will think your husband's been doing it to you." "She won't think or know anything if she does see," said Mrs.
"Church must be over,—Jenny has not come back." "She won't be back till nine o'clock, she is out with her young man." "Oh! not at church?" "No I told you so because Mrs. W——-told her not to go out on Sunday;—but you won't tell?" "Of course not my dear, I dare say Jenny and her young man have done what we have been doing." "Lord sir, he is a most respectable young man, and far above her,—they are going to be married,—she is lucky, luckier than I am,—she'd knock his head off if he laid hand upon her improperly,—that she would, she! Lor bless you,"—and Mrs. ——— laughed with incredulity. I laughed also. "Ah! she looks a quiet young woman." "So she is, and so is he,—his family is well off,"—and then she told me all that Jenny had told me.
"I wish you would let me make the bed." "I'm going to have you again." "Oh! likely." "I am." "No you're not,—please go." "No." "Then I shall go downstairs," "Go my dear."  Now she was quiet, almost sullen, and if she looked at me her eyes fell directly, the randiness had been taken out of her. "I must rouse it up well if I am to have her again," said I, to myself as I lay thinking about her, and the delicious sight I had seen in that room, the sight I never dare disclose to her,—but how I longed to tell her.
Up she came looking glum. "Are you not going?" "No." "Let me make the bed then." "Not until I have had you again." "Then it will go unmade." "That won't matter to me." "But it will to me,—what will my sister say if she sees the bed's been laid upon like that?" "Perhaps she will think a man has been with you." "Well you take it mighty cool,—I do hope you're going." "Not till I've had you." "Now you are a talking nonsense,—you know you can't do it," said she with an incredulous look, and the tone of a woman who knew what a prick could do and what not. "Look at this," I uncovered my prick which was nearly at a full-stand. She smiled when she saw it. "Nonsense I am ashamed." "My dear I'm proud, and not ashamed,—come." "I shan't."
I had always a lust stirring tongue, fifty women have told me so. "You'd talk any women randy," said a gay woman once to me. Brighton Bessie said, that in five minutes I could talk her into a lewd state. Others have given me similar compliments. I was not specially conscious of that power that I recollect, but instinctively used it when I had got over fits of modesty, which sometimes prevented my uttering even veiled allusions for a time.
Mrs. ——— like Jenny was easily flattered. What lovely limbs she had I said; had she much hair on her cunt? my excitement had prevented me feeling or seeing it. "Come and let me feel,—let me look." She colored and blushed, and at every lascivious remark, "Oh! I never,—no I never did,—oh!" Then she again went to the drawer where the money was, looked in it as if to make sure it was there, and locked the drawer now. "Mine's bigger than your husband's, isn't it?" "Well if I ever heard such remarks." "You said it was big when it was up you." "Oh! you story." "You did my dear, you said when you were just coming, 'Oh! it's big.'" "I didn't."  "I won't."
I moved off the bed, caught her, and pushed her against the side of the bed. "Let's see your cunt." "You shan't."  She got on to the bed after a little resistance, took my pego in her fist, and I got my fingers in her crack.  "My God what a lovely cunt,—how deliciously you join your wet lips to mine,—how you move,—I shall never forget it to the last moment of my life,—oh! let me." "I musn't,—I would, but I'm frightened." "How foolish,—it's not an hour since my prick was in you,—what is the harm of doing it another time?" "Will you go then?" "Yes." Gently Mrs.——— opened her thighs. Our backsides were soon at the short wriggles. "It's big, isn't it?" "Oh! don't," said she, "I shall spend." My remark, tallying perhaps with something which was passing in her own mind fetched her, and me with her instantly.
When it was over I would not go. "No I'll do it again."  We laid side by side talking, for she liked the subject. I had a most buttock-stirring letch on me, and to her astonishment in about an hour I produced another stiff one. One persuasion is very much like another with the same woman; each time I had less difficulty, for she liked the poking. Dusk was coming on, she got lights, she fetched some liquor, and after the liquor I got her to lay on the sofa (for we then had gone downstairs), and on pretence of kissing her quim I got her to open her thighs wide, and saw in the twilight what I had seen before, large and ugly inner-lips.  Then I left at her earnest entreaties before her sister returned. I had been there six hours.
I called on Jenny next day. She was in a way. Her sister directly she had returned home said she must go and see her husband; and spite of Jenny's entreaties not to leave her alone, had gone and never returned all night. Jenny could not make out the reason, but thought that she went away expecting to find her husband with a woman. She returned to sleep as usual on the Monday night with Jenny, I found subsequently.
That day I went off without poking Jenny, and slunk away ashamed. I was done up with poking her sister. Jenny seemed astonished, but said nothing.
Afterwards I got out of Jenny cautiously all I wanted to know about her sister. The result was, that finding on the next Sunday fortnight, Jenny was again going out with her young man, and the sister again would be left in the house, I went there. The woman's astonishment was great, and I believe she was genuinely distressed at seeing me. I attacked her for a time fruitlessly, she would not move from the street-door.  said she.
I could not deny it, had great difficulty with her, and thought I never should succeed. For full an hour with her back against the wall of the passage did she stand, refusing to move.  In her struggles to prevent me she once nearly fell, but she got away.
  She did not rush out to wash her cunt as she had done at our first meeting, there was no water near. I had her again and again. At each assault when the pleasure overtook her, she had the same mouth-sucking and arse-wagging. When our love-making was over, I gave her two pounds. I had offered it her before in the passage, but she had knocked it out of my hand. When she took it she said, "Ah! it's an awful thing to be poor!" I shall tell of another woman who made the same excuse to herself for getting her lust satisfied, or yielding.
That satisfied me, and I never had her again in the house. A letch for her came again about two months afterwards,—why? God only knows, for then at times I was having her sister, another woman, Louisa Fisher, and lastly Sarah Mavis. The old couple had returned, Jenny had a fellow-servant; I could only get a poke up her with difficulty on the Sundays, which her young man did not see her. I took her to a baudy house for an hour or so, then she went to church, and heard the text, because her Mistress always asked her what the text was when she went home. It was a supposition that she went to church on a Sunday.
I knew where Jenny's sister lived, and the place where she worked. It was now dark about six o'clock. I waylaid her on her way home on the high-road which was well lighted and full of people. I walked with her, but she prayed me not to do so, for her husband came partly the same road, and sometimes met her. What would happen if he met her with a swell walking by her side. I could not persuade her to go to a house. No,—she was not a loose woman, though she knew what she had done,—I had done her more harm than I had any idea of, already,—why injure her?
The more she objected, the more I longed for her.  Away she went, and I never saw her afterwards to speak to, though I have passed her without taking notice.
Jenny's Mistress had been taken ill at the seaside, and kept there a month longer than was intended.  Old Mr. W——- came up to London twice, and once nearly caught me in the house. I had written to say I had called at their home, and had never found their servant out. The lady wrote to thank me, and in writing to my mother, said how much obliged they were for my calling; but my wife said she thought the servant (Jenny) was a sly sort of minx, and wondered how they could be so foolish as to leave her in the house by herself.
When they came to town I was for a time very intimate with them, which pleased them much. Jenny used to let me out at the garden-gate, and leave the gate unlocked. Instead of going away, I used to hide in the shrubs, Jenny would come back, close the street-door ajar, and a few minutes afterwards come out again very quietly. Then up against an ivy covered wall we poked, and she went indoors with wetted privates. Sometimes after waiting I had to go away unsatisfied, she not appearing, sometimes rain prevented us,—all of which was very annoying.
 She had to dodge her fellow-servant as well as her Master and Mistress, and we copulated in fear and trembling. In the midst of the work she has left me because of some scare; once she went off saying, "Oh! there is Missus' bell ringing,—oh!"—and uncunting me, off she ran. One night we went on to the flower-beds between two large trees, and the next day the old gentleman remarked that some man had got over the wall into his garden, and he should tell the police. If there was moonlight we were done. One night latish she was sent to fetch some butter.  Unfortunately the butter was let fall out of the basket on to the gravel. We went back for more, but the shop was then shut, so she had to take home the dirty butter, and make the best story she could about it. On Sundays when at the baudy house, the girl was awfully frightened lest she should be seen, and we used to walk there on opposite sides of the way, I going in first. Then we went away with similar precautions,—but I began to get very tired of this, having indeed had enough of her.
Jenny had lost all fear of being in the family way, and poked freely, but she never ceased bewailing her poor young man; though at length my tool had become to her a thing to be longed for. The young man had money left him, quitted his place, and Jenny left to be married. I heard of them for many years afterwards, they opened a shop, then a larger one, and so on, till at length he became (I found this quite recently) the mayor of the town,—if not it was some one of the same name, and in the same line of business. He was much respected, and Jenny his wife was equally so. They had no children up to the time when the old lady her former Mistress, died; and for aught I know they may still be living in the town of———.
One night some time before she left her situation, we spoke of her sister. "She is in the family way again," said she, "and in such a way about it, and so is he,—the night she left me to sleep by myself, she went home to her husband, because she suspected there was another woman there;—well that night she declared he did not let his stuff go outside,—he says he did,—they quarrel, he says it's her fault, and she says it's his."