“What are you looking at?” said she. “To see if you've had a baby.” She pushed my head away, closed her thighs, and sat up laughing. — “What does it mat-ter to you if I have or have not?” “Have you?” “Yes and no — you will know more perhaps by and by, — can you tell?” I replied that I could — and indeed for a year or two past I have been very curious on this point, and many of my courtezans I have asked if they had had a child, and if they had got them to point out to me the peculiar signs of an over strained belly. — My lady however did not refuse me further inspection, but I could not see any clear signs of it, — but risking it, I said, “I see you have.” “Really! you are clever,” was all she remarked, got on to the bed, and soon I forgot every thing in the probing of her luscious cunt.
Then we lay quite quiet, she with eyes closed — cuddling quite close to me, and clasping me as we lay side by side, as if in most voluptuous dreaminess. I was tired, but my brain always baudily at work by the side of a woman, kept thinking her over. — So we lay speechless long. At length — “You are thinking of fucking,” I said. “Yes,” said she with eyes still closed. “Let's go to sleep.” “I am frightened we shall sleep too long.” Then I put her thigh up over mine, and my hand grasped the gluey gap. I rubbed her clitoris till she gave a shiver of pleasure, then she roused herself and washed her cunt. I looking on, noticed that it was a surface wash only. — Then with chemise and shirt on, we went back to the sofa, and looked at ourselves in the glasses. “Do you always wear silk stockings?” said I. [They were twice the present price — but silkier.] “Only sometimes,” she replied.
Our talk was of all sorts of things, tho we still put sly but useless questions about each other. At length — “What does it matter if we like to meet here, who we are?” said she. The time went on, her conversation was most charming. — She drank moderately, — and had never yet pissed, till rising. “I must pee,” said she, lifting up her chemise slightly, and looking for the chamberpot.
My letch came on at once. “Do it here and I'll see you.” “I won't.” “You must.” — fetching a pot, I put it in front of the sofa. — She refused for a time, till she could wait no longer, and then pissed over my hand half a pot full. — “Look what that's done,” said I showing a stiff stander. — Then I covered the whole surface of her cunt with my hand, and so dried it. — Odd tricks of that sort are always occurring to me. — “I never should have thought that any man would do such a thing,” said she. — I told her some of my exploits with women and that bladder fluid, which led to further history of my doings with women, and on saying I had seen, and felt, and fucked, six or seven hundred. — “Oh, you story teller — I don't believe any man but the Grand Turk has, and oh! your making me pee on your hand — oh! it's incredible.”
It was nearly ten, she said she must think of going, — but still we sat half reclining on the sofa, feeling each other and kissing. “I'll fuck you before you go.” “Can you?” “Come to the bed, — no stop, — kneel on the sofa instead, and we can see ourselves.” — She was amorous enough for anything. — I pushed the cheval glass and sofa about, till with the chimney glass we could see every movement. —Then stripping off our linen, she knelt, and after kissing her marbly arse, and fat protruding hairy cunt lips, we had ten minutes hard fucking, and she cried out — “Oh — how — stiff it — is,” — and spent as I did. — Then with backside gently quivering, and I with trembling knees, we kept joined long, both silent and looking in the glass, till my prick slunk out of her cunt.
Immediately she poured out a tumbler full of very strong gin and water, and drank it right off. My suspicion about her condition in the omnibus crossed my mind. —Was she going home by omnibus? — “Certainly not.” — “Why the other night?” “A whim.” — She dressed quickly. Yes I'll meet you again on Saturday. She did not wish to be seen walking with me; but when quite dusk, she would be near to the end of the street, — I was to go to the house when I saw her, she to follow me in a minute. “And mind I can only stop an hour or so.” — She made me promise then not to follow her. — At leaving I made some offers. — No — she herself would get a cab directly. No — she had plenty of money to pay for it. — “Let me kiss your cunt before you go.” — I did, and we stood for a minute in front of the cheval glass, feeling each other's genitals, — our tongues meeting. Then she took an-other tumbler of strong gin and water and departed — leaving me very curious, but pleased with her full and voluptuous libidinosity, and the baudy amusements we had enjoyed.
On the Saturday, it came off exactly as planned. We were shown into a back bedroom without so many glasses. — “It's not such a nice room as the other,” she remarked. — I rang. — “The front is engaged, sir, the upper front if you like.” — There we went. — (Her veil carefully down.) There the glasses were much the same. She began stripping instantly, I followed, and for a minute or two we lay on the sofa, looking and feeling; then she frigged at my prick so impatiently, and sighed so, that at once on the bed we went and fucked passionately, and her intense enjoyment added greatly to my pleasure.
She washed her cunt directly afterwards this time, and piddled. — Whilst sitting on the pot, “There is a glass there,” said she alluding to one against the partition. She hadn't noticed it before. — “Yes, and we can see ourselves fucking in it.” With our tongues to-gether when fucking before, we had not noticed this possibility in the other room. — But now she frigged up my cock, looking over at us in the glass whilst she did so, and when next we fucked both our heads were turned towards it, and I lost her lovely moist mouth. Then we fucked a third time, and at each succeeding embrace she seemed more and more impassioned. I've never had a woman who held me so tightly to her as she did when copulating. — In a hurry she went off as before — promising to meet me on the following Thursday, and stop late. The looking glasses were an exciting novelty to her, as I have found them to other women. She said they excited her and that she had never seen herself fucking in a looking glass before. [It is a fact that then when in the actual movements of love I cared but little about looking glasses, my physical enjoyment in fucking was so absorbing, but I have liked them as I grew older.]
Chapter XII
Vic at J***s St. • Inspection refused. • The unknown. • An unlucky meeting. • A disappointed prick. • Sperm on a looking glass. • A red night. • Lessons in music. • A sloppy cunt. • Vic's antecedents. • A dark night in the park. • Miscellaneous gropings on chairs. • A fresh fucked cunt. • A Scotchman's sperm. • Erotic recklessness. • A young lass. • On the grass. • The lady and soldier. • Sister Peg. • Sitting on a chair. • My fingers. • Fears. • The doctor.
On the Tuesday at the appointed hour, I met Victoria and took her to the same house, the scene of so much of my amorous work. — She could only stop an hour,. — must get home, — I might see that she really did go home if I doubted her. — She had evidently come for fucking, and didn't mince the matter, but she would only take her gown off and would not let me see her cunt, and got very angry, and began putting on her dress to go when I insisted. —She expected I should treat her like a lady. — “My dear I've had many ladies, and they all let me see their cunts.” She didn't care, she wouldn't. I found her nicely formed, but tho looking large and full in her dress, that her flesh felt poor and fllabby. — I mounted her, and found her cunt was excessively wet, but primed by three days' rest, I soon injected thick spunk, into her thin contribution. The sloppy sensation her cunt gave me, displeased me but I don't think that she had any ailment.