My Secret Life Vol-01 Chapter 10- CharIotte Reappears. free porn video

VOLUME-1

Chapter X

Just at this time the following incident occurred. Going one Saturday night up Granby street, Waterloo road, then full of women who used to sit at the windows half naked; two or three together at times in the same room on the ground-floor, with the bed visible from the street, and which street I often walked in for the pleasure of looking at the women. A woman standing at a door seized my hand, asking me in, and at the same time pulling me quite violently into the little passage. I had barely seen her, and upon her saying, “Come and have me,” replied that I had scarcely any money. “Never mind,” said she, “we will have a fuck for all that.” She shut the door, closed rapidly the outer wooden shutters, which all the ground-floor windows had in that street, and began to kiss me and feel my prick. I then saw she was half drunk. Quickly she pulled me towards the bed, threw herself on it, pulled up her clothes to her navel, and cried aloud, “Fuck me, — fuck me, — fuck me. — oh! how I want a fuck, make haste.” She was a tall woman with dark hair on her cunt, neither very long nor thick. As I looked at it, I saw the inner lips hanging out a full inch, I put my finger, two, then three fingers up her cunt easily. It was enormous. It shocked me, having never seen such a cunt before I am quite sure. She meanwhile did nothing but jerk, and wriggle her arse about, shouting out, “Fuck me, — put your prick in, — fuck me, — fuck me.”

The look of her thing, its size, and her manner so shocked me, that my prick refused its work, and I told her so. She jumped off of the bed, fell on her knees, and began sucking my prick violently, made it stiff in spite of me, got on to the bed again, and recommenced crying out for me to do it to her. With a feeling of disgust I got on her, slipped my prick up and began, but it felt nowhere. I could not make out that it was up a cunt at all, so loose was it. If it had been in a wet bladder, it could not have felt looser, and it shrunk up again to nothing. “I can’t do it”, said I in a fright, for her manner was so lewed, and became so ferocious, that it quite upset me. “What! a fine young man like you can’t do it”, said she. “No” (and as an apology), “I often can’t do it.” Again she got it stiff by sucking it. That quite disgusted me, but on to the bed and into her again I got. My doodle in a minute began to shrink, but whilst in her, she wriggled and jerked away so hard, that I think she must have got a pleasure, for she laid quiet for a time. I was very glad to get off; but was not to be let off so easy. “I will give you a pleasure”, said she, “I can if anyone can”, and although it disgusted me, for such a thing had never been done to me before, and I tried to stop her, she dropped upon her knees saying, “You will come to see me again I know, for a man can always do it one way or another”, put my prick in her mouth and sucked and palated it. I was too young and too full not to feel it. Spite of myself I spent, and just as I did, grasping my balls with one hand and frigging the stem with the other, she drew back her mouth about two inches, kept it wide open, went on frigging, and the sperm squirted out into her mouth and on to her face; then she resumed sucking it until every drop was out of me.

That over, she rose and said, “You will come to me again, won’t you? I will always do that to you, and anything else you like.” I gave her a shilling and promised, but never felt so sick and disgusted with a woman before. Everything about the woman was repulsive. I have since met four or five woman with very large cunt-holes, but hers was the largest. I am perfectly certain I could have put my fist up it. I avoided the street for some months, which was a great loss to me, for I often used to go through it, to gloat on the charms of the women as they lolled out of the windows. When I thought of my prick being sucked, it used to disgust me awfully, and it was many years before I knew what pleasure it was to a man, at time; but it never has been done to me again, in the manner that woman did it.

Then I saw the woman in taking whose virtue I lost my own, — Charlotte.

Our cook married. A new cook and housemaid came, the latter a pretty dark-eyed girl of about eighteen years of age, named Mary. Directly I set eyes upon her I liked her, and thought I would try to get her. My clap and cheap pokes, had not made me much in love with gay women; whose free-and-easy ways some-what shocked my timidity. Some time had elapsed since I had had any others, and my mind naturally reverted to the nice pokes I had had with servants. My chances were fewer than ever. One of my sisters was now frequently at home, Tom no Ionger needed a servant to be with him, and the housemaid was less frequently away from the kitchen. But I felt myself more a man, my good fortunes made me feel more sure of success, more prompt and determined in attack.

At first I watched her closely and thought I must have seen her before. A resemblance struck me, and I remarked to my mother, “How like that girl is to Charlotte, who lived with us.” “She is her sister”, said she. I was startled, for a feeling came over me that I ought not to try her.

But it brought my liason with Charlotte vividly to my recollection. The first meeting, the glimpse of her cunt as she got down from the cart, my first grope, our first poke, were now constantly before me; and I longed with all my heart to have her again, though I knew it was hopeless.

Gradually my mind centered itself on Mary, and as I saw the resemblance to her sister, I used to wonder how far the resemblance extended. Whether her haunches were as large, her thighs as round, her cunt so made, fringed, and dark, and so on; until I desired to have her, as much for her resemblance to Charlotte, as for herself. Yet I had fear and reluctance to make advances, because she was Charlotte’s sister.

Meanwhile I was chaste, was in good health and wanted a woman awfully. Then I had a wet dream; dreamed I had Charlotte in my arms, that she ran away and left me with Mary, who pulled up her clothes, and invited me to fuck her. Before I could get in to her, I awakened, found that I was on my back and was spending on my night-gown. I had heard much of these dreams, had had one partially, and now had experienced a complete one. It threw me into a state of irritation, but seemed to fix the hidden charms of Mary strongly in my imagination. Desire so carried me away, that from gently rubbing and titillatting myself, I passed to frigging a discharge, whilst thinking of Mary’s cunt.

In the morning I had the enervation I have always since felt after these dreams, and my usual disgust at having frigged myself; a feeling which was not allayed when I looked at my night-shirt. I had a dread of letting it be seen, but left things as they were. Mary and the cook made my bed, and must have seen it. Servants see funny things on beds often. I wonder what they say, and what they think about it. It can’t be easy for a young woman to see sheets, and night-gowns, spunk-stained; without its effecting her imagination baudily, and paving the way for somebody to stain sheets and linen with herself.

I gave up all idea of attacking Mary, but “cock and cunt will try to get together.” There is no use in resisting it. So again with no fixed intention, but simply from pleasure for the time being, and impelled by desire (all my silk handkerchiefs were gone and I was again without money), and by opportunity, I got to courting, and we soon kissed. I had pressed her belly against mine, got my hand on to the calf of her leg, and was on the high road to the snatch at her cunt, which my experience now told me was the right thing to do, when all came to an end.

I went daily to the W — Office returning about half-past four. One day when about half-a-mile from home, a lady in black silk and with a dark veil approached me; but as if she had made a mistake, when close to me, turned on one side and passed on. I looked back and saw she was standing still, then on she went, and so did I, and had nearly forgotten her, when I heard quick footsteps in the rear, and some one saying, “Mister Walter, don’t you know me?” I turned round, stopped and tried to see who it was, but the veil prevented it. She hesitated an instant, then lifted it, and I saw Charlotte.

With flushed face, bright eyes and a gentle smile, she looked exquisite. My heart beat tumultuously, my love returned in an instant. I put my arm round her, and regardless of the publicity of the place, gave a kiss. There was it is true scarcely anyone about, but she as well as me when I had done it, saw the improperty. “Don’t, for God’s sake”, said she, “what will people think?” “Let us walk”, said I, and pulling her arm through mine, on we went; I looking into her face all the way, noticing how much the time which had passed had improved her, and overwhelming her with questions. I felt overjoyed, as if again I should possess her, and old times had returned. She for a few minutes seemed to give way to similar elation. Just then I saw a gentleman named Courtauld approaching, he was our next-door neighbour. We nodded as we passed, but the incident altered the current of our thoughts. I led her down a turning where there were scarcely any people, and saying, “I am so glad old Courtauld did not see me, for his brother lives just by us, and his old servant is often there and knows me.” She relapsed into silence. I went on chatting of the happy times we had had, and the pleasures we had tasted together. She remarked, “Oh! pray don’t talk of that any more, recollect I am married, let me say what I have come to say, and then I must go.”

“To say to me?” said I. “Pray don’t misunderstand me, I thought you would excuse it”, said she getting confused, “besides it is my duty, and of course knowing what I do about you, I was so afraid of something.” “What do you mean?” “Well if I had known where she was going to I would have made mother stop it, now I come at once to ask you not to hurt her.” I proposed going into a small half-country ale-house close by, but she refused saying, that if seen to do so, and it became known to her husband, it might cause much harm.

“Oh! no”, said she in a hurry again, “I must go, I must get back, I came to ask you not to hurt her, promise you won’t for my sake.” All this time I was in a fog. “Who — who, — what do you mean?” said I. “Oh you know, — Mary, I mean Mary, she is my favorite sister, pray don’t harm her.” The whole affair was clear to me at once. “Is that what you came about?” I asked disappointed. “Yes, I have been coming for a fortnight, but could not make up my mind; her last letter made me determine at any risk to do so, and now dear, promise me not to hurt her, and I will go.”

I was annoyed and wounded in vanity, for I had almost brought myself to think she had come for the pleasure of meeting me. I had no intention of quitting her so soon, felt as if I could not, so chaffed her, “What do you mean by hurting her?” “Don’t talk nonsense, you know what I mean.” “Another case of cock aund cunt coming together.” “If you talk like that, you insult me, and I did not think you would.” “Well, I love you and would not like to hurt your feelings, what you really mean is, that I am not to try to do it to her.” “Why of course, don’t ruin her, that is what I mean.”

We had walked without any intention on my part to the outskirts of our village, where the pew-opener’s house was in which Charlotte and I had spent many an hour in love’s frolics. The house was in sight, the hope of again having her came to my mind. In her excitement, which was as great if not greater than mine, she had not noticed where we were, until quite at the angle. The pew-opener was at the door, gave me a nod, and thinking it possible I might be coming in I suppose, left the door ajar. “Come in”, said I. “Never! oh! no, you have brought me here purposely.” I saw there would be difficulty. “Here is that old Courtauld’s house-maid, damn her”, said I. “Where, — where, — which way?” said she looking in alarm in all directions, but unable to see clearly through her veil. “There, — there”, “just step inside the door till she has past.” She stepped in quickly, the next instant I half pulled, half hustled her through the little door into the bed-room, slammed the door, locked it, and stood still, half afraid of my own boldness. She went to the window and began to peer through the blinds to see the old housemaid.

“I can’t see her”, said she, “she must have passed, tell me which way she went, and let me go.” “Not yet. What do you want about Mary?” “Promise for my sake, you won’t try to ruin her.” “Well, let us have a longer talk, how do you know I want to do so ?” “I know you do.” “Sit down.” “I cannot.” “Then I won’t promise, why should I?” “Oh! don’t be a blackguard, don’t oh! don’t, — you shant have her, I will take care”, and then she burst out crying.

I loved her so that I felt I would do anything to please her; but wanted her so much, that I could be cruel enough to do or say anything to have her again. Desire was the stronger. The sofa, the bed, the room, her beauty, all made me feel savage with lust, so I temporized. “I am so excited”, said I, “I scarcely know what to say, what to do, tell me more, what you know, what you want, for all this stems so strange to me, — sit down.” “No.” “Sit down only while you tell me.” “No.” But I laid hold of her and pushed her on to the sofa, and there I held her, and after beseeching her to be quiet and kiss me, she did so. Then she sat for a minute, drying her tears, and began her tale and her request.

“Mary is my favourite sister, she lived with us for a year after I married, but mother wanted her and she went home. She grew tired of being at home, went to service, did riot like it and went home again; again grew weary; and to my astonishment, the last time I went to see the old people, found she had gone to live with your mother. I was frightened for her sake, for I love her dearly.” “Why frightened?” I asked. “Why frightened? don’t I know you, do you think I have forgotten all?” “I never thought of doing her harm.” “Perhaps not”, she replied, “but I would not trust my sister near you, if she had the least liking for you, or you for her.” I protested I was indifferent to her. “Why kiss her and squeeze her so?” I began denying it, and she stopped me saying vehemently, “Now don’t tell stories, you never did to me, I know all, I know you do, you mean her harm, or if you don’t, harm will come of it. Look, here is her letter”, and she put it into my hands. To my astonishment I found Mary had told her sister all, mixed with warm encomiums of me. I was shut up, and could only say I meant no harm. “Perhaps! but harm must come of it. It nearly brought me to ruin, for I would have done anything, lived anyhow to keep near you; but I have escaped it. Poor Mary may not, for you are older now and may do more harm! she is a different temper from me, and in despair will go wrong altogether; so I pray you if you loved me, not to injure her for my sake. If she came to harm, I should break my heart”, and she broke again into tears, getting up at the same time to go.

I pulled her back and kissed her tears away. “Charlotte, we cannot meet and part like this, I love you still, I have never ceased to love and think of you, oh! let me.” I could say no more, for in my eyes then there was a sanctity about a married woman which stilled my tongue. “Oh! let me”, was all I could say.

She understood what I wanted, and replied, “I am married and cannot, let me go.” At my entreaties she kissed me freely, yet all the time struggled to get up.

I thought to myself, “You have had her. She loves you still. Think of the pleasure you have had with her. Here she is in your power, and cannot escape without a riot, which she will fear.” Kissing her fiercely, stifling her voice with my mouth, “I must, I will have you again”, I pulled her violently back on the sofa, and had my hand on her thighs in an instant.

“Oh! don’t, for the love of God, think I am married, don’t make me afraid of myself; oh! take care, you crush my bonnet, what shall I do, how shall I get home?” Holding her tight, I dragged the bonnet off her head, and recommenced. We made such a noise, that the old pew-opener knocked at the door and asked if anything was the matter.

“By God”, said I, “either I will have you, or you shant go out of this house this night”, and so I struggled on through tears and entreaties, threats, timings and promises, till with broken voice her head sunk back, her struggles ceased, her legs opened, my hand slipped over her smooth thighs, and nestled in the warm moist slit it had so often toyed with in time gone by. It is nigh fifteen years since that delicious afternoon, but I recollect my sensations as I touched her cunt, as well as if it had been but yesterday.

Resistance had ceased, for a moment in silent enjoyment I laid with my fingers in their warm lodging, then too impatient to get to the bed, or take the full luxury of my fortune, I arranged her on the sofa as well as its size permitted, with her petticoats up in a heap, and with my trowsers half unbuttoned, flung myself upon her, and entered the smooth channel in which I first had spent my virginity. Frantic with excitement, the pleasure came on ere I was in full up her. She, excited and loving, clutched me tightly in her arms, whilst her cunt and belly moved sympathetically. In too short a time we spent together.

My position was a fatiguing one, I was half on, half off the sofa; hers was but little less so, yet as long as our privates would keep together, we kept them so. I poured out my love to her, and joyed to hear from her that she loved me still. But our position could not last for ever; gradually I slipped off. My prolonged embrace, my sensuous imagination, and my love for her had told so upon me; that I was already contemplating the pleasure of another poke, a desire to see her charms came over me, I went on to my knees and had a glimpse between the open thighs, of the half open cunt, from which a love-drop was rolling. She pushed down her clothes, and sat up, looking at me, and blushing like the most modest of maidens.

It is extraordinary what objection so many women have to a man’s looking closely at their cunts. A woman will stand naked, lay naked on her belly, or bum, stand with one leg on a chair, kneel with one leg on the bed, be looked at frontways, backways, sideways, and be pleased with the admiration. You may lay and kiss the outside, put your fingers up and probe it, rub your knuckles into it, tickle or frig it; but directly you want to pull the lips open, to see the hole which lays hidden by the hairy outer lips, to see where your prick is longing to hide its head; they object, put their thighs together, say, “No, it is not to be looked at.” Or if angrily pressed, reluctantly half yield, throw themselves down, so as to put their back to the light, lifting one leg so as to hide the light, and using every manoeuvre to prevent you looking closely at it; and if you desire to look when it’s laden with the efforts of your love, they will struggle to prevent you. Gay or modest, it is the same among the English; although a gay lady will yield to please her friend. With the French the objection is less, a French gay woman will pull open her cunt with her own hands, and let you pull open her arse-hole if you can and like it. I have known a few women of other nations and even of my own as free and easy, but the rule is as I say. This cannot be modesty. I rather imagine it results from a fear that some discharge will show itself, and sicken the man’s appetite. Up jumped Charlotte, and went into the adjoining room. I heard her splashing away a long time at her cunt, and went to her. I had no desire to wash away from my person, anything which had come from hers. She pushed me back. I had a glimpse of her, naked to her waist, washing something. She said, “My linen is in such a mess I have been obliged to wash it.” She had found much spunk upon it, and washed it for fear of being found out. She put a petticoat over her neck to hide her charms, the chemise was so wet that it was almost impossible for her to put it on, and she did not know what to do.

“Good God, you will catch your death of cold.” I rang the bell and gave it to the old woman to dry. “Now”, said I, “you cannot go, it is of no use, I must have you again, and will see all your charms, I had you first, I have had you again, and again I will have you; don’t be foolish, all harm is done.”

Crying, entreating and saying she was married, I got her on to the bed, and stripping myself was soon folded in her arms. My prick was ready, she had struggled hard, now saw it was useless, and lay in all her beauty before me, her head on the pillow and her eyes closed, Ieaving me to work my will.

I saw her as leisurely as my throbbing prick would let me from head to foot, that she had grown stouter, taller, and was now a splendid woman. Her breasts were full and hard, her buttock large and solid, her thighs more rounded, the hair of her cunt thicker. Curiously I opened its lips and put my finger in, to see if marriage had made any difference, but was far too young and inexperienced to find it out, if there had been any. It seemed the dear old split which had so often given me pleasure before; that look and feel finished me, in another second my ballocks were bang my away against her bum, and she met my embraces with fervour which too soon came to an end. Repose followed, the luscious tongue-kisses ceased, our sighs stopped, and we fell asleep.

But not for long. The wet chemise was brought back. That off her mind into bed I got with her. The coach by which she now could go home did not leave until eight o’clock, hurry was of no use; with my finger in her quim, side by side, mouth to mouth, we laid and talked.

Her anxiety was about her sister, whom I swore I never would attempt. That settled her. She wanted to know all about me, that was soon told. I never mentioned Mary’s name, although she asked after her. Then I was curious about her married life, how she got over her marriage night, how often he poked her, and so on. I got but little out of her, beyond that he had not discovered that she had been fucked before, and that he was a good husband to her; my other questions she said were disgraceful. I felt mad to think that another man should put his prick where my fingers then were, so I asked if she enjoyed it with him, whereupon she burst into a passionate flood of tears, and it closed with her saying, “Whether I love him or not, he is a good fellow to me, and if I am found out and disgraced it will serve me right.” Would she meet me again? “Never, never, I love you still, but never again.” It ended in another fuck.

And so it went on till the time for going. Never in my life up to that time had desire been so strong in me. When I knew she must go I insisted on again doing it, but could not come up to the scratch, until with a sharp frig it stiffened and again it was put up her. What a long hard poke it was, what a test of my manhood, how proud was I when with a sharp and sudden pleasure I felt my spunk squirting up her dear quim, and a spasmodic clutch, a sharp sob and “dear Walter”, escaping from her told me she had spent with me.

She washed, I dressed, swearing I would never wash my prick again till I saw her. “I have poked you darling, five times”, said I in triumph. It was the first time I think I ever had done so, but am not sure, and proud enough I felt. We soon relapsed into sadness and tears, and telling our love to each other, parted at the coach-stand.

I was mad again for her; had now money, and twice went down to the place to get a glimpse at her and failed, but saw her husband in the shop. We stared at each other. I wonder if he felt that I should have liked to throttle him, for so I did. I wrote and got no reply. I pumped her sister, to see if I could learn where she walked or went, and got no information; indeed soon lost opportunity for suddenly her sister left us. Her father came to ask my mother to excuse her on account of his wife’s illness, and she never came back. I have but little doubt it was only to get her away from our house, and that it was Charlotte’s doings. I never saw Charlotte again, though I still may do so; but to this day I have an affection for her, and although she must be forty, should like to poke her.

Next year, one day my mother opened a letter, it was from the E family; and read aloud little scraps of it to me, and my sisters who were in the room. “That family is all doing very well”, said she; “Mary who was with us but three months last year is married.” She went on reading, “And Charlotte’s husband has taken a large shop and is making money. — Ah! I am very glad of it, for she was a nice respectable girl. Oh! here, — and has just been confined with a fine boy. — I am very glad”, said mother. I looked and found it was nine months after Tom’s birthday, and that that day nine months some one had fucked Charlotte five times. I was delighted.

My appointment now made it needful to dine late, so we reverted to a six o’clock dinner. This neither suited the cook nor housemaid; both left, and two new servants came. I was about nineteen years old.

The cook whose name was Brown was clean, fat, and wholesome to look at, and I should say forty-five years old. She must have weighed sixteen stone. The width across her arse as I eyed it outside her dress, looked greater than that of Mary the cook; there was a roguish twinkle in her eye, which made her look like a good-tempered monthly nurse, her eyes were blue and her hair brown.

Harriet the housemaid was very tall, and very sallow, had jet-black hair and black eyes, with the expression of a serpent in them. She showed splendid teeth when she laughed, and then looked half cat, half hyena. She never looked you in the face long, was so quiet in her movements that the cat moved less noiselessly; she startled you by being close to you when you did not know she was near, and had a sneering laugh. After a day or two my mother remarked she did not like the pair, and was sorry she had engaged them.

Up to this time I had only poked two servants, Charlotte and Mary. Others had not been to my taste. With one I tried it on and failed, and when randy now could not help thinking of the couple in the house. I tried it on with Harriet, but she so snubbed me, that I set her down as an impregnable virgin. Then I turned my eyes to Brown, though it seemed absurd to think of such a fat middle-aged woman; but I one day chanced to see that she had a very fat pair of calves, and I knew she must have a big arse; and as fat legs had an irresistable attraction for me, I tried to see more of them, but without the thought of taking liberties with their owner.

I saw her legs again, from thinking of them and her rump, my mind naturally went to her cunt, which I pictured must be very thick-lipped and hairy like that of Sarah’s, whose cunt had made a great impression on me. Her age then seemed to fade from my mind, and I used to follow her when going upstairs, trying to see her legs, and flattering myself she did not see what I was after, but she knew it as well as I did.

One day going upstairs she stumbled upon her dress, and as if to prevent doing it again, held it up, so as to show nearly to her knees. When she got on the top stair she turned round, and as if she had only just seen me, dropped her dress quickly. Another time she stooped and jutted out her bum, so that I saw a good deal up the clothes, whilst she pretended to be doing something to her boot. It seemed to me accidental, but it was all intentional.

Then my prick used to stand when I saw her. About nine o’clock one morning she came into the garden when I was there, and gathered some herbs. Her stooping posture gave me a cock-stand, and under its influence I joked her about her legs and my seeing them. She gave a suppressed laugh and saying, “Lawd! did you sir?” went down into the kitchen. What made me go down I do not know, but five minutes afterwards I did so; and just by the kitchen door, saw her with one leg on a chair, putting up her garter.

I stood stock still and silent. She adjusted one garter neatly, then put up her other leg, unrolled the garter, pulled up the stocking and put on the garter quite deliberately. I saw the flesh of her large thighs, for her garters were tied above the knees, and she pulled up her petticoats freely. Putting down her clothes she turned round, saw me, then with a grin said, “Lawd sir, how you startled me.”

Bursting with randiness I lost all prudence. Mother, sister, Tom, and the other servant were about the house, but up to the cook I went, whispering, “I saw your legs, what jolly ones, what thighs, what a cunt you must have, let’s have a feel”, and got one hand up her clothes. She pushed me away saying, “Hish! here is missis.” It was a lie, but it frightened me away.

The same evening I went downstairs after our dinner. The housemaid had been sent to the circulating library. Mother, sister and Tom were, as they usually were after dinner, when the weather was warm, sitting in the summer-house at the bottom of the garden. I usually sat with them, but slinked into the house, and down into the kitchen; which being underground was darkish, although then it was light until eight o’clock. Cook when she saw me, grinned and became familiar, for she was a regular old stager, and knew well, that when a man wanted to take liberties with her, she might safely take them with him. “What do you want?” “To feel your cunt”, said I, “see your legs, feel that crummy rump of yours, cookey.” “Then you won’t”, said she laughing, and lifting a heavy saucepan off the fire with both hands, she carried it towards the sink in the back kitchen. Randy and ready, I saw my opportunity; and as she neared the sink, thrust both hands up her clothes, grasped her arse, and was fumbling for her slit; when putting down the saucepan with a bang, she flung round, and hit me such a slap on the head as knocked me over, saying, “Why, you young devilskin, it would serve you right to tell your mother of your capers”, and then she stood and laughed at me.

I persisted, kissed the old party, and told her how I wanted her, for indeed at that moment I would have fucked her, if she had been eighty. She repulsed me saying in a whisper, “Harriet is upstairs.” “She is going out”, said I. “Wait till she has, if she hears you, she will make mischief.” As I felt this might be true, I desisted.

I went back to the garden thinking, and hoping mother and sister would not go indoors. When Harriet had gone off, I went back into the garden parlour quite leisurely (for mother could see me do that), then down to the cook. It was nearly dark. In a minute I had pushed her up against the dresser, was groping her, and she was feeling my prick and ballocks with seemingly hearty enjoyment. She opened her legs to give me every facility. I attempted to get into her, but her clothes and big belly prevented me. She held my prick against her cunt, so that it pushed against her orifice, but did not go up it; and such was my state, that I spent against it. She kept hold of the prick, rubbing it, and gently squeezing it, until not a drop of sperm was left in it. Then for fear of being found out, upstairs I went again. The whole business had not occupied five minutes.

I had once spent by accident in Mary’s hand, and had fear lest it should disgust her. There was something about this affair, which seemed quite different. I could scarcely make out how, with a cunt dose to my prick, I had spent as I had done. The next night came, I tried it on at the same hour with the same result. She not only let me feel her, but put my fingers to her cunt, at a place where she wished me to rub her, she meanwhile frigging away at my prick. But I wanted more than this, and just as it was too late, she let me put my prick in. At the first spurt of my spunk, she by a twist threw my prick out, and caught hold of it with her fingers, letting me spend over her thighs and linen, but squeezing and frigging at my doodle until it had shrunk thoroughly down.

For a month the same thing occasionally happened. She would let me finger, feel, rub her (in the nearly darkened kitchen), putting one leg on a chair, or stooping down, or any way to let me feel both inside and outside well. When I got my prick out, she immediately began to frig it. I used to have quiet rows with her, for not letting me put it into her; and when at length she did, I was always near spending; and do not think that more than once, I spent up her completely, so did she manage to throw me out just as my sperm began to flow. All was done standing up.

She treated me like some one she had known for years, did everything before me, talked both baudily, and beastly, called my balls, my cods, and used to say, “Hish! let me piss first.” Then she would sit down on a pail in the back kitchen and piss, sometimes farting, and saying, “oh!” with a laugh, when she did so. She would belch without ceremony, blow her nose through her fingers, and I noticed she never washed her hands (whilst I was present at all events), when I had spent upon them. She would say, “How are your cods off for starch tonight?” She was complaisant enough in letting me feel, would turn her backside round and let me fumble about it anyhow, but although want made me do what I did, it never seemed quite pleasant to me, and I disliked her. I never got a glimpse of her belly or cunt. If the front-kitchen was not dark enough, she moved to the back, before we began our pranks, and scrupulously avoided light. Her cunt I felt was a large one, but so far from having the quantity of hair I expected, she seemed scarcely to have any. One thing she did which annoyed me. After feeling my cock, she would slide her hands under the balls to my arse-hole which she would press hard with her middle-finger, giving a “tchick” with her tongue, at the same time.

All this took place in about six weeks. “Hush!” said she one night, “some one is listening.” I could hear nothing, but she whispered, “Go up to the garden.” I did. It was dusk, and I thought I saw a figure enter the garden parlour, just as I got up the garden stairs. All were out but me and the two servants. Cook at the same time went up the kitchen-stairs, calling out loudly, “Harriet, is Master at home, do you know?”

A few days afterwards when at our fun, we stood in the door jamb; Harriet was at the top of the house. Said cook, “If I push you hard by the shoulders, go out into the garden at once, without saying a word.” It was nearly dark. The kitchen garden-door was shut, but she opened it wide, before we went to work. I had my prick against her cunt, when a push came; off I went buttoning up, and after a time across the garden, into the parlor. Afterwards Harriet brought up lights, her eyes cast down as usual. The next day the cook whispered to me, “It was that bitch Harriet watching, I found her coming downstairs with her shoes off, saying she wanted a candle; but I will be even with her.”

I never had the cook but once after that. She would not let me. The two servants quarrelled so, that my mother threatened to dismiss both. When I tried it on with Brown, she said, “Why don’t you ask Harriet, you young devilskin?” I told her there was no chance. She said she was quite sure that I should not be the first. Another day she repeated it saying, “I bet she will let you, the baker has had her I believe. Then she put me up to watching the baker with Harriet. The man came in the afternoon. Just when I returned one afternoon, I posted myself at the garden entrance-gate from the fore-court, from which door ajar, I could see the street-door. The baker after giving her a kiss, made a poke at her quim outside her clothes, which she returned by knocking a loaf against his trowsers just by his tool, and laughing. This I told the cook, who said, “She will let you, if you try, young devilskin, she has seen you and your cods naked.” “Seen me naked?” “Both of us have”, and then she told me how.

Opposite my bedroom door at the end of the room, was a cheval-glass, between it and the door was my sponging bath, then a big tub. Any one looking through the key-hole could see me naked, when I was in it. I took the bath directly I was up, which was at about the time the servants went down. Many a time have I looked at myself naked in the glass, making my prick stand, to see how I looked in that condition. Both servants had seen me so. They had sometimes arranged the key so as to leave the hole clear. Never had it occurred to me that I should be so looked at, although I had often looked through a key-hole myself, at women. The cook made this clear to me, by standing in the tub and requesting me to look at her through the key-hole.

We arranged that I should bathe the next morning and suddenly open the door. “Pull your cods about well, and I warrant Harriet will look as long as she can”, she said. I did so, heard the servants door carefully open, and then frigged my cock, till it was as stiff as a poker. Stepping out of the bath with a towel, as if to dry myself, I opened the door suddenly, and found Harriet just rising from a stooping position. She rushed downstairs but quietly for fear of awaking my mother. For all that I could not make up my mind to try Harriet, but tried to get Brown again. “No thank you, young devilskin”, said she “not with that bitch of Harriet about.”

Then I had a strange erotic fancy. Randy with abstinence and fearful of Harriet, I took to frigging and spending against a piece of paper pinned against the wall of my room, opposite to the glass, and when standing in the tub.

Autumn was coming. As I could not then get leave of absence, my mother with my sister from school, and little brother, went without me on a visit to my aunt in H—f—shire, leaving an old female relative who was very deaf, to take charge in her absence. Cautioning her especially to make me comfortable, and look sharp after the servants, she said that she could not bear them and would perhaps dismiss them on her return; for she had heard them using foul language to each other. I heard this.

Cook gave me unasked her opinion, that Harriet would let me sleep with her. Instigated by her, I asked Harriet how I looked naked. She did not reply, and went downstairs. I overheard them quarrelling. Afterwards I asked her before the cook. She did not know what I meant, she said. I then asked the cook if she had not been looking at me through the key-hole. Cook laughed saying, “He caught you, Harriet once, he caught you.” “You are a liar”, said Harriet. “Oh! if it comes to that”, said cook, “we have both seen you naked a dozen times.” There was a row interrupted by my deaf relative coming home. The same afternoon cook whispered to me, “Come to our room when we are both in bed.”

That night with candle in my hand and in my night-shirt I crept stealthily into their room; both were awake, Harriet sat up in bed staring at me. When I entered cook asked me what I wanted. I replied, “To see as much of them as they had seen of me”, and pulled up my night-gown to my waist. Cook laughed, Harriet said, “Now leave the room.” “If you are a fool and make a row”, said cook, “we shall be both sent off.” Just then we did hear some sort of noise, cook sat up and listened. “It is nothing”, said she, and with a grin laid down. I drew off my night-shirt, standing then naked, and Harriet laying down with a modest look; I felt encouraged, extinguished the light, and jumped into bed by the side of Harriet. The bed was so small I was obliged to hold on to her, to prevent myself falling out. She turned round her bum towards me and got dose to the cook, which gave me more room; and for a minute we all three lay as dose as three herrings in a barrel.

Darkness encourages baudiness. Harriet had tucked her clothes tight round her, but I could feel her bum outside, and there did not seem much of it. I tried to push my fingers between its cheeks, and there was much struggling and quiet complaining on her part, and joking on mine. Harriet appealed to the cook to help her, but she only chaffed and chuckled. At length putting my hand towards the bottom of the bed, I got hold of her night-gown end, gave it a pull, and it came dean up, the next moment my naked body met hers from her heels to her waist. She gave a howl, cook said, “I’ll go into young devilskin’s room, and leave you to take care of him”, got up and went across to my room, and into my bed; and there was Harriet and I in bed alone.

She seemed furious, I felt her over, she was powerless, I dared her to call out, and at last in one of her writhings to escape my fingers, getting on her back; I rolled on to her and pinned her under me with my weight; but her legs were tightly closed, and so for a moment I laid my stiff prick between the shelving of her thighs, the tip just laying burried in the hair of her cunt.

“I can feel your cunt with my prick, I am on it, let me do it”, said I, and struggled to force her limbs open with my knees.

“No”, said she. Again I asked and got a request to get off. “Not if I lay here all night”, said I. I did lay for some minutes, she complaining of my being heavy, and hot; I every minute trying to wriggle my prick between her legs, coaxing and kissing, and begging. “What made you think of coming here with both of us in bed?” said she at length. “Wanting you.” “It’s funny”, said she, “and Mrs. downstairs.” “You know”, said I, “that unless you bawl she cannot hear.” At length I told her that if I did not do it inside, I must do it outside, and began shoving my prick up and down, which made her restless. She asked me if I would tell the cook. “No.” Gradually her thighs opened, I slipped down between them, and felt my prick at the portals of her cunt.

The rest was quick enough. I felt my way through a mass of hair to a low-down slit, a hole which seemed tight, and as I guided my tool, fancied for an instant I was again going to have a virgin. I was mistaken, but the entry needed a hard, sharp, and painful push to me, and a comparatively easy passage followed. No sooner did I feel up, than all came to an end, spending copiously I sunk on her, long before the strokes could have told on her sensations, for in a savage voice she said, “Now, get off, I hope you are satisfied, and that beast Brown has got me as she thinks. Now, I suppose you are going.”

I rolled off, but let her know I meant to stay. There seemed something odd about her which awakened my curiosity. The knob of my tool seemed to catch as it came out and hurt me, so I began feeling, which I had not done before, nor did she want much solicitation to feel me, and as she did so, it struck me she was not unaccustomed to the feel; but her cunt was a wonder, it was so small and tight on the outside. The feeling had a good effect, and in half-an-hour I got up her again. And what a difference! After a few thrusts she gripped me like a vice, she did not heave, but writhed and wriggled in a way which in my young experience I never had noticed before; she threw her long legs round me and with her equally long arms tried to feel my balls from behind. Then a certain feeling of constriction in her cunt seemed to hurt, but it brought me to the crisis just as with a last wriggle and sigh her limbs relaxed, and she became quiet. I laid for some time in her, but although gradually reducing, my prick did not come out. I attempted to withdraw it, and it seemed sore and as if something caught the knob and kept it back. At length out it came, and we both fell asleep.

Some one pushed me. It was the cook. “Now young devilskin”, said she, “be off, or you will be found out.” It was broad daylight. She pulled the clothes off us. I was on my back with my privates visible. There lay Harriet on her back also, with everything visible from her knees to her breasts, and I saw for the first time her black cunt-fringe. The cook grined and awakened her. Up she got, off I went to my room, and found my prepuce torn at the top, raw and all but bleeding.

When I saw them the next day Harriet was savage, for the cook was chaffing her. The next night I again turned the cook out and had Harriet. On the third night the cook was restive. “You may do what you like together, I shant take any notice of you”, said she, “but I am not going to be turned out of my own bed.” When I began to fumble about her, with the view to annoy her into leaving, she struck out right at my ballocks saying, “If you annoy me, I will soon settle you for the night”, and it ended in Harriet coming into my bed-room.

I examined every part of her body much against her will, nor did she fail when she warmed under my over-hauling to look at me. But a woman is soon satisfied, and when she has squeezed the balls, and looked at the tip, she has done. Some men — and I am one — are insatiable and could look at a cunt without taking their eyes off for a month. So I satisfied myself well, and at times afterwards, — for she was a peculiar, and an unpleasant woman in every way, one of the out-of-the-way ones not often met with, and one I never want to meet again.

She was quite five feet ten high, her face was sallow and nearly white, her eyes sloe black, but with the look of a dull serpent in them, her mouth large, long, and straight, teeth white and large, and the whole were shown when she laughed, and then she had half the look of a wild beast. Whenever she smiled baudily, her look was still more unpleasant; when thoroughly lewed, her eyes opened on you with a still worse stare; often just before she spent I have seen them, and they startled me.

Her hair was jet black and magnificent, it fell nearly to her waist; her shoulders were broad, but there was scarcely more breast than on a girl of fourteen, and seen sideways she looked more like a man than a woman. Her ribs you could count as she lay; she was very wide across her hips, but she had almost as little flesh on her buttocks, as on her shoulders; her belly was flat, and as she laid down seemed to fall in, and the sides rose to the two projecting hip-bones; in fact she seemed to want filling up all over, and yet she was not like a skeleton.

Her legs were thin, her thighs seemed closer than in other women’s. I used to say when fucking her, “Open your thighs.” “They are open”, she’d reply, “they are the same as other women’s.” She had a huge conceit of herself, and if I said other women’s seem to open more, used to reply, “What do you know about it?”

Her cunt was set in a quantity of longish black hair, strong but not very curly. I didn’t much like the look of that. The slit quite hidden by the hair was long and the lips thin; of inner lips she had none. And the first idea as I pulled aside the hair was that the cunt was large; instead of that, low down, and near to her arse-hole was a hole not bigger than that of a girl’s of ten years; you saw both holes quite close together. Her cunt was in fact a study. Something seemed to bar the passage; for about an inch further up it seemed smaller. The whole thing seemed out of proportion, yet I could not say how, or where that deformity was, with the experience I then had.

Her arse being so flat, her cunt-hole so low, and her thighs so close, my prick as it entered seemed to bend under in some way and hurt me; my tight prepuce was often torn rudely down, and frequently bled. When I probed her cunt with my finger it never seemed to have the soft buttery feel I had been accustomed to, but to be harsh; so I found it best to wet my prick copiously with spittle when I had her. Then off we used to go; she raising her long legs until her heels were above my buttocks, writhing and wriggling under me and finishing her pleasure with a sort of snort. Then my prick would be up her until quite small, when with pain at the knob, I pulled it out, making a sucking noise as it came away; nor do I think till pulled out, that any spunk left her, such a fit it was at the mouth.

I had much opportunity with her for a few weeks, and she took good care that she would have her fill of me. She took sleeping with me as a mater of course. I used to awaken and find her twiddling it up. If I went up to my room in the middle of the day and Mrs. was out, she came up directly, and I had her, for I felt ashamed to say I did not want it. I am not sure, and at that time did not know much about the thing, and how little a woman really lascivious will stop at, but believe that in the night when I was asleep, she used to suck me up; for I have awakened and found her with her face upon my doodle kissing it. She asked me to kiss her black pussy, and now think she must have wanted me to lick it, but did not then see what she wanted. There was one thing I did with her which I had not done before, and which the flatness of her backside favored doing, fuck her from behind, both laying on our sides, and it became my favorite w4. I used to go to sleep after my spend with my prick up her in that fashion; she with her long arm put between her thighs clutching by balls.

I was constantly at her, and more by her randiness than mine. The cook used to grin and say, “Well young devilskin, you seem jolly well knocked up,” and made Harriet savage by saying, “Have a little mercy on him.” The cook now took no notice of me, she was a coarse beast, would go to the servants’ closet leaving the door wide open, and begin to talk with me as I passed; Harriet called her a beast one day for doing so. I found that the cook after going to her room used to go down again. Harriet would let her out and she stayed out all night, Harriet letting her hi in the morning. One night Harriet did the same, saying her mother was ill. I spoke to the cook about it; she said, “Her mother! pugh — she goes to see the baker.” I began to feel very uncomfortable about these tricks in case it came to my mother’s ears, and that I knew of them.

The cook asked me to look carefully at Harriet’s belly, and explained to me that I should find certain marks of her having had a child, and to tell her (cook) if I did. I could not find them. “I am sure she has had one for all that,” said cook. I never told Harriet what I had looked for. The cook one day said, “If you tell Harriet what we have done together I will split on you both and tell your mother. I don’t care a dam for the place and am tired of service,” so I held my tongue. Harriet always declared she was a virgin until she had me, and that the cook had had two or three children. I did not tell Brown that, for fear of a row between them. Another night that Harriet stopped out, the cook said, “You may come to me if you are frightened to sleep alone.” I went. She undressed, pissed and farted; but seeing her fat form, into the bed I got. When I was stiff she said if I would tell all about my doings with Harriet I might poke her as I liked. I told her most that she asked me; but she threw my prick out just as I spent for all that.

Things were now uncomfortable, they quarreled so. One night I asked Harriet who was frigging me up, whether the baker didnot do it enough to her. She dropped my tool, rushed across to the cook, said that she had been telling about her, and made such a row, that even my deaf relative was awakened, and came out of her bed-room asking from below if anything was the matter. I was on the landing when I saw the light and hopped across to my own room in a fright. Up came the old lady, the cook came out and said, “Harriet is very unwell Maam, can you give her a little brandy?” I had no fuck that night. The next night she began about the baker. I would answer nothing. She said, “If I have had him it’s my affair; at all events it’s an insult to a woman whom you never gave the slightest present to yet.”

I was struck with that. My allowance was due, and I took her home some article of jewelry. She made me for the ensuing week fuck her till I was as dry as a bone, and my very arse-hole ached the last time I did it, — it was the day before my mother returned. She sat on the side of my bed and frigged me for a quarter of an hour before she got it stiff, saying that I did not seem to like her as I used to.

My mother and sister came back. I never got a poke for a fortnight. When mother returned nothing would get it out of her head, that I had not been out late of night; it never could be got out of her head that it was late at night that did the harm. Not being able to get Harriet now, I waited for her one night as she went to the library. As I got near a wall by our house, I saw a man and a woman standing close up against it together; the man went away directly I approached, and I saw Harriet. “There was a man with you?” said I. “Yes,” said she, “it was the baker, whom you have heard such stories about, I am going to marry him.” I pulled up her clothes, and to my surprise she resisted, for the first time saying, “I want to piddle,” which she did, and then I had her. Her height made an uprighter easy, her quim did not seem to need so much wetting as usual.

A day or two after this event I came home, my deaf relative opened the door. Finding that she was laying the cloth, I asked, “Where is the servant?” My mother said, she had turned both the hussies away, and the people who gave their characters ought to be prosecuted. With heart beating I asked what was the matter. “It’s not needful for you to know,” she replied, “they are a bad couple.” I saw at once I was not implicated, so asked no more, nor did I ever see them again; though about ten years after, I met in the streets a tall gaunt haggard woman who stared at me, and I think it was Harriet.

For some years this episode seemed a funny one, especially the cook’s uncunting me just as I began to spend, but of course I know now why she did it, or fancy I do.

Her inciting me to get Harriet also astonished me, but I have since found girls anxious to get others into the same way as themselves. Many I am sure like doing that, and all girls who have been fucked illicitly like other girls to do the same.

Harriet was a lewed bitch. I never liked her, and her cunt always gave me pain as well as pleasure, but she was at hand, and so I got into her of course. I can’t even now make out what was the matter with her cunt; for though she would let me look at it at times, she always hindered a quiet inspection, besides I could not at that time of life look at a cunt for a minute without my cock standing. Then I rushed it up the machine and had done for a time. I had seen one virginity, but that was but for a minute, for I pricked it directly. All I recollect afterwards was that it did not look as open as other cunts, I could not describe it. I did not care about virginities and never thought about them. I liked best a good, large, fat-lipped, hairy hole into which my prick glided easily. When Harriet said I took her virginity, somehow I felt sure she was lying, but had it been true I should not have noticed it, as far as my pleasure was concerned.

To be Continued

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Notes;

1. During my visit to London for studies where we had an Old Ancestral Home, I stumbled on a family treasure. Apart from other things I also found a hump of books, diaries, and notes in the treasure which contained classic, Age-old, Erotic books, Novels, and Magazines probably collected by my Ancestors. They are all timeless and precious. They are a must-read for all erotica lovers.

2. Out of the aforesaid collection, presenting an amazing account which was first published in 1888, My Secret Life, by "Walter", is the memoir of a gentleman.

3. The book My Secret Life has been authored by "Walter". The identity of "Walter" is unknown. so the Original Authors are long dead or unknown.

4. My Secret Life, by "Walter", is the memoir of a gentleman describing the author's sexual development and experiences in Victorian England. It was first published in a private edition of eleven volumes, at the expense of the author, including an imperfect index, which appeared over seven years beginning around 1888.

5. The work in having 11 Volumes containing a total of 184 chapters apart from the Introduction & Preface.

6 All characters be read as of more than age of 18 years.

7. My sincere apologies to the author of the Novel and readers for editing, or modifying the underage content, if any, to make it suitable for publishing in Modern times.

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