(My pleasures however with her were of a simple kind. I had none of the varied erotic pleasures that I now know, the bum-hole and mouth were reserved for the enjoyment of my more matured years.) I should have seen her more frequently, but she would only come at the outside twice a week. No it was impossible, — she lived too far off. I tried to get out of Hannah some knowledge about her, but could not. One day only when fuddled she asked if I had heard she was married. “You mean”, said I, “living with a man.” “No really married, and been so for years, — oh I don't you tell her, — she'll cut the house if you do.”

At the end of perhaps three months I was in bed with her; we had poked, reposed, and were in amorous dalliance, lying face to face, she with one limb over my haunch, so that I could feel her cunt well, she twiddling my somewhat exhausted prick. “I have a surprise for you”, she said. “For me, — what?” “I'm in the family way.” “The devil, — whose fault is that?” “No one's fault, and perhaps no misfortune, — would you like a child?” “I? — why?” (I had a presentiment of what was coming.) “Because it is yours.” “Non-sense.” “It is my dear, — I have felt certain of it for some time past, but waited to be quite sure before telling you.” “Are you quite sure?” “As certain as I am that I shall die.”

I was flabbergasted, felt distressed, as if I had done her some harm that I could not repair, that I had injured her, and should cause her pain and annoyance. It was succeeded by a fear that I should have trouble through it, and expense that I could not afford. Then came the idea that she was selling me, putting a plant on me; that if she were with child it was another man's, not mine. Then came a belief over me that what she said was true, that her pleasure in my embraces was so real, so unlike that of the ordinary gay women, that the result might be due to me. Overwhelmed I lay quiet, confused with the tumultuous thoughts and feelings which rushed through my brain.

At length I said, “Are you sure?” “Yes.” “It may be your husband's” (for Hannah's hints came to my mind). “He !—he !—the miserable, contemptible little wretch !—he?” She left off feeling my cock, raised her-self on her elbow, and looking at me said, “Who told you I was married?” “No one.” “Some one has.” “No one, — but I have more than once fancied you were married by the difficulty I have in getting you to come to meet me when I want.” “Some one has told you.” “No one has.” “I'm a damned fool”, said she, “I dare say you know more than you say, — what do you know?” “Nothing.” “It's your child, and no one else's, —I'm sorry I have told you, — say nothing more about it”, — and she turned on her back. “Are you married?” “Of course not, or I should not be in bed with you.” “Some man is keeping you perhaps.” “No one is keeping me either”, said she.

I could not keep quiet, so much was I excited, and thought of the man she met at J...s Street still, al-though she tried to hide that. I did not like to suggest it, for I had found out that any reference to him annoyed her, and I always avoided giving pain to any woman I had connection with; but the matter seemed so grave that I could not keep what was on my mind to myself, and as delicately as I could suggested him.

“It's not”, said she fiercely, “it can't be.” “Why?” “You are the only man who has spent in me for years.” “What”, said I incredulously, “no one had you?” “No one has spent in me but you for years, — no one.” I was staggered, but returned to the subject. “Nonsense Louisa, — how can you tell?” “I've told you why.” “Why if you've a husband, and if you have a friend who meets you, how can you be sure it's me?”

“I have no husband, and it's no friend, — if you don't believe it, I tell you on my oath, on my body and soul, and may I go to hell when I die, if it be not true, that no man has spent in me for years but you.” “No man has fucked you !—what do they do then?” “That's no concern of yours, — but no man's stuff has ever been up me for quite two years but yours, — I'm not going to say any more about it, — my business is not yours, — nobody has asked you to keep the child, —you need not trouble yourself, — I'm sorry I told you.” She turned her bum to me, and began to cry; I tried to comfort her.

“That will do”, said she, “give me some oysters and champagne.” I ordered them, then wanted another fuck. “No you shan't have it”, — nor would she let me. The oysters and champagne made her more complaisant, but she was angry and snappish. After an-other fuck she got up and left me before her usual time, and I went away wondering at this, and at the number of women who had been, or who said they had been with child by me.

Soon after she was loving, sad, and serious, was sorry I would not have liked the child, for it was certainly mine, but she would get rid of it. Then in the familiarity of a lewd man and woman naked in bed together, she told me a lot about herself.

She was married, she lived with him and her mother, but loathed her husband. “He, — he the miserable wretch, — he touch me, the dirty beast I — I'd sooner die than let him”, she cried, “if he wanted even, — but he does not want me, — what he wants he gets else-where, not with me”, said she with strong emphasis. If she left him, she would have to support her mother alone, — perhaps it would come to that some day, — she was quite prepared for it. They ate and drank to-gether when he was at home, but had not slept to-gether for years. He kept the house comfortably enough, — perhaps he would so long as she took trouble about it, for he did not care so long as he got his food good. Yes she did meet a friend. It got her luxuries she could not get any other way; her husband knew she got money elsewhere, for she dressed in a way he must know his money would not enable her to do. He asked no questions, and did not care nor heed, nor seem to notice. That was pretty well all I ever got out of her. Hannah drunk, and talking to me one day said he was a very little man, and a brewer's clerk, “a hop o' my thumb”, she called him.

“Never mind what my friend does”, said Louisa, I've known him some years, — he does something of course, he does not meet me for nothing, but I tell you he has never spent in me, — no man has spent in me for years but you.” “Do you frig your friend?” “If you like, anything else you like, it's all the same, —I'm not going to say; but neither he nor any one else has spent in me, — no man's seed has been up me for two years or more. The first night you had me I spent first, you spent after; the next time as your seed touched me, I felt a shiver run right through me, and I got in the family way at that very instant, I'm sure.” Louisa was particular in her language, she never said “spunk”, — thought it a nasty word, — she always said “seed”, or “stuff” when she spoke of my sperm, — Sarah called it “muck”.

Though I had had such lots of women, and had heard of most things, yet simple, straighforward fucking had engrossed me, I rarely had out-of-the-way lusts and letches, and I never thought to ask if her friend buggered or sucked her, or if she sucked him, or what little amusements they were up to. At all events she must have satisfied him some way, for he had known her she said some years. A man was likely to stick to Louisa, for she was a magnificent piece of flesh, from her neck to her ankles.

So I believed Louisa, and felt interested in her belly beginning to swell, but did not want the young one, or the troubles of paternity, or to get her into trouble; besides I had no affection for her, though I liked fucking her better and better.

Louisa then was away ill; I saw her again when her womb was cleared out, and we took to fucking as usual. One day in baudy vagaries we had been posturing, and she straddled across my face, bringing her cunt right on to my mouth, and my nose to her bum, she had been asking me if I ever kissed Sarah in any way but the straight one. She began kissing my pego as she lay on the top of me, I kissed her buttocks, but took no hint, if any were intended. She was very heavy, and I noticed for the first time a strongish odour from her cunt which annoyed me; afterwards I used often to fancy she had a strong smell about her quim, and was fool enough to tell her so, which offended her; but we made it up.