There was no sofa, it was table, or floor, or upright. — “Stoop — there — so — then I shan't rumple your clothes.” — I placed her, bending, over the table bum afterwards, threw up her clothes rapidly, saw her oval buttocks and pouting cunt lips which I kissed and sniffed for a second, and with one thrust buried my prick up her. She felt its searchings at once. Three months was it since that wholesome piece of male flesh had plugged her. — “Don't now do it to me, dear,” she mumbled as her bum began agitating. “No dear — are you coming?” “Yes — a — yes — dear — a — ah — love a — ha —.” She was spending, her tightening cunt fetched me, out came my prick, and I spent a shower of hot spunk through my fingers, over her cunt lips, and buttocks. I think I see it laying in thick drops on flesh and hair. I never spent more I think. — We were quiet. — “Oh it will make my clothes in a mess.” “Be still love.” — With my handkerchief I carefully wiped off the sperm. Then we kissed and fondled, and felt each other's genitals for a minute, but fucked no more. I soon left. A week or so after she went to India, and I never saw her again for many years.
Chapter VIII
Argyle women. • Curiosity. • Female spite. • A lover of athletes. • Artistic libidinosity. • Reminiscences of the widow in ball dress. • A lovely blonde. • N**l**e H****s. • A perfect fit. • Sympathetic embraces. • My restlessness. • Her coolness. • Nascent affection. • Her absence and return. • Her funny little maid. • Refusal, and insistence. • Clapped. • A month after. • A gamahuching frig. Her disappearance. • Four years after. • At a ball. • Ten years after.
For some time before and after this, I went to the Argyle rooms two or three times weekly, and had fully a score of the finest women there. I changed my women frequently, and satisfied my whims. The tallest, then the shortest, I took for contrast. One I had heard was so voluptuous that she would fuck a man silly, and I had her. One I had for her bold eyes — an-other because the Duke of R* ** * *d — had kept her, an-other who boasted that two of the biggest pugilists of the day had had her, for I was curious to learn some-thing about the genitals and copulative vigor of the bruisers. The lady told me much, and perhaps a good many lies about them. That woman, I heard from other women, was known to have a letch for big, powerful men, and the lady herself told me of several she had had besides the bruisers already mentioned.
A gay lady whom I went home with shortly after, told me spiteful stories about this lecherous one, when she heard I had tailed her. Said that if she took a fancy to a cabman, or a butcher, she let them have her for love. A big soldier, she would take home to fuck her even if she were hard up for money at the time; — at which my informant affected' to feel great disgust; but it neither surprises, nor disgusts me. I don't see as the woman had gone in for harlotry, why she should not gratify her lusts as much as I do. Perhaps fucking is her only real pleasure. — One woman whom I went home with got maudlin, but she fucked me dry, and said amidst tears which she shed at intervals copiously, that fucking was the only thing she lived for, adding often, “You do fuck lovely, you do, I'd like to sleep with you always.” But I never had her afterwards.
When I saw an usually handsomely dressed woman, the charming widow of whom I have already told as laying on the bedside in silk, satin, and diamonds, came into my mind; and if her looks pleased me, I went home with that lady. — After her out door garments were removed, it was, — “Don't take any thing more off, I want to see your cunt, just as you are dressed, let me feel you. — Oh you have drawers on (sometimes). Take them off, but nothing else.” Then on the bed side, I saw their charms up to their navels; then placed them, to begin with, in a lazy careless attitude on the bed, just as they might be if they had lain down to take a nap by themselves, and showing little more than ankles. Then I pulled up their clothes partially, and then up to their thighs, not even then showing their cunts; and I looked, made them roll and move about on the bed, as a restless sleeper might, and so I saw them on all sides in natural, semi-nude attitudes, restraining my impatience to see their cunts, which it was my desire to see.
Then I went to the end of the room so that I might see the voluptuous picture from the distance. — “Pull up your clothes so that I can see your motte — there — just so, as if you were feeling your quim — put one leg up so that I can see your cunt well — open your thighs more — turn on your side so that I can see your cunt well from behind.” — All this usually amused them, but occasionally they objected angrily. — “You are a cure” (a cant phrase then), was often said. Then closer I saw all their charms. — I loved to see the lace, and Vandyked or flounced petticoats falling here and there carelessly about their limbs, — sometimes hiding this thigh, some times that, some times half their cunt. These were charming pictures to me.
One of the postures in which I nearly always had them last before fucking them, was kneeling on the bed with their clothes dropping naturally over their limbs. Then I lifted their petticoats first up to their knees, and looked at them, then over their backsides, and after having had a good look at the hairy pouters and notch, I brought them round on to their backs on the bed side. — My throbbing prick by that time over-powered my wishes for further artistically libidinous postures, and I fucked them there and then.
And what appears to me not a little singular, after my experience at the station privy, after the dislike, and the intense dislike I had even to think about a woman's fundament, I begin now with these gay ladies when in bum-to-front posture, to look from their cunts, past the intervening division to their arseholes, to see what the tight wrinkled orifices looked like, to study them, and even touch them at times with my finger. I begin to think that no part of a nice woman is anything but charming. The having seen and touched a woman everywhere, adds to my sympathy and liking for her. Strange that this should come about in the short space of three or four years. Am I subject to revulsion of feelings on sexual points — or is it that the scope of my desires is enlarged, and I now take in more of the female form for ministering to my lewed pleasures.
This brought me at times funny remarks from some of the lovely libidinous creatures. — Said one, “None of that — that's virgin.” “My dear it is only curiosity.”
— Another turned herself round suddenly and laughed.
— “What are you laughing at?” “Ten pounds for that, and pay down.” “My dear I've no intention of putting in there if that's what you mean.” “I dare say not, but men have strange fancies.” — That woman put strange fancies into my head, for I feel sure that she wanted ten pounds for stretching her sphincter — and think from what she said afterwards, that she would have taken the stretching without the ten pounds, had I desired it.
One night toward the end of this continuous change of women, I saw there a very lovely creature, a half blonde of middle height, of faultless feature, and with teeth and complexion exquisite. — At a glance she seemed to me to have all that I loved in form. She moved about without noticing the other women, or only spoke to one or two quite briefly, — “and seemed as if she did not belong to the class.” — Other women I noticed looked after her and some spitefully. “There is N**l*e H****s,” I heard some say. I was struck immediately with her, with a desire to be in her society, to know her, speak with her, quite as much as with a desire to have her: lust indeed for the moment seemed without its influence. [I have had a similar wish, and sudden attraction towards other women, to whom I have taken a liking — a liking of which no doubt the root was lust — but which in the first phase, lust for was for a time forgotten or dormant.]