Directly after dinner we went to the bedroom — stripped to shirt and chemise, and fucked again. — She was a lovely partner in amourous delights. — With what pleasure I laid by the side of the sweet creature, whilst her cunt reeked with my sperm, and we smoothed each other's genitals, and talked sensually, as well as about each other. — Curiosity about each other is inevitable between a man and woman so placed.
I love a woman who when laying by the side of me, never takes away her hand from my prick, unless for a momentary feel else where. The gentle restless movement of a soft little hand all about the prober, at one time soothing, at other times exciting, is exquisite. She was one of that sort.. After one of our pleasures, she put her head over mine, kissed me, and said in a low tone, “Are you rich?” I felt as if I had been stung, and told her frankly all about my means and condition — “Why do you ask me that?” — “I thought you were that is all,” — but the question made me thoughtful, and destroyed my pleasure.
She saw that. “I've made you dull — never mind, what harm was there in asking?” — “None, you know the truth, but if you want a little money I'll give you some.” — She replied that a little money was of not much use to her, as long as she was with her protector. — “Don't you like him?” — “I don't dislike him, but I'd like to live with a man I could love.” — I got no more out of her, we got very spooney, and my prick began again to rise as she felt it. Then she put one leg quite over mine, and soon after with a quiet laugh moved her whole body on to me. The lasciviousness delighted me. It's a long time since a woman has mounted me so, excepting at a baudy house at Paris. I lay feeling all over her lovely buttocks so easily got at when a woman is laying arse upwards whilst she gave me billing kisses with lips and tongue, in silence. How exquisite were the sensuous thoughts which coursed through my brain at this moment.
“Shall I do it to you?” — “If you can make me rise love but you can't.” — Putting her hand down between our bellies, she gently grasped my flagging, well worked tool, and brought its tip to her cunt, against which she gently rubbed it. Gradually it swelled, larger and larger, till at last its head entered the orifice, and with a gentle movement of her buttocks the next instant was quite up her cunt. “There,” said she with a sigh of voluptuous satisfaction, and she lay quietly with my pego up her. Then her cunt squeezed gently, but in no hurry to finish, it only gripped at intervals, and kept up the lewed sensation in the sensitive tip, that sensation of increasing lust and power, which is so exquisite, and again we were quiet — her tongue gently meeting mine, then a kiss, then tongue again. What lewed thoughts were in her mind I wonder? Was she like me absorbed in the de- light of feeling my prick in her, whilst my hand smoothed excitedly over her lovely large ivory buttocks.
Nature will not have this quiet voluptuousness too much prolonged. Soon her belly began to heave gently, her bum to rise and fall, as she worked my prick up and down in her cunt, clasping my bum hard tonguing me sweetly as she did so, whilst I, deprived of my force, could only heave up my belly feebly to meet hers, till another pleasure left us tranquil in our delight.
As soon as our bodies uncoupled, her question again rose poisonously in my mind — and I spoke of it. — She evaded for a long time, and at length owned that she thought we could live together happily. But of what use without plenty of money. She didn't dislike her man, but couldn't love him, she never should. — It was a funny thing to her, how likings and dislikings arose. She liked me almost directly she saw me, and was now sure she should love me if we were together — but from what I told her that was impossible for two reasons, both equally important. If she lived with a man, he must be in the house with her, and go about with her. If he could not do that (and she saw that I could not) no good could come of it. She would not be kept and visited only. — She'd rather be free to do as she liked. — During all this talk, we lay side by side on the bed nearly naked, on the hot summer's night, prick in hand and hand on cunt, with that never ceasing gentle movement, which a couple amourous of each other give when feeling each other.
Then I told about seeing her in the park. She told me her name, and address, but with an injunction never to write her, nor go to see her, I should injure her if I did. Lingering with me to the last moment we parted. Again I had her, and again; meeting at various quiet hotels and accommodation houses about every three days. If ever a woman met a man for fucking she did. She was intensely loving in her manners to me, sensuous, voluptuous, meretricious in a high degree, but did not seem to care about lewed words or talk. She would lay silently with eyes closed, one arm under my neck, at intervals pressing her lips to mine, and putting her tongue to them, all the while feeling my prick from tip to bum-hole. — When it got stiff, she transferred her hand to my flesh, or quietly and softly grasped my balls till the stiffness partially subsided, and then felt the stem again. She seemed in no hurry to fuck after the first two couplings, but rather to delight in delay, and thinking about sexual pleasures, whilst my hand roved all over her lovely flesh, but mainly between her thighs on that adorable notch.
If she had a special letch it was to mount me. — Few women care about doing that more than once or so. — She repeated it at each meeting. — “Oh my love I wish there was a looking glass so that I could see your lovely bum,” I said one day when she had impaled herself on the top of me. — “Ah you have been to a French baudy house, I have heard of them, you naughty man.” For three or four years it seems to me (I can-not be exact), no woman had mounted and fucked me. — Why the caprice of putting that little bit of a girl, Jemmy Smith, on the top of me to do it? I never can answer to myself such questions, but I told her the story as she was mounting me one afternoon. — “You beast, do you mean to say you put a child like that to do it to you?” — and she got off me. — I told her the truth — she sulked, and would not do it that way to me herself again — but we fucked ourselves out in more old fashioned ways.
She talked freely about herself and men, said she had never been gay, but certainly had had more than one lover. — “Don't ask any more questions, you know quite enough, too much — you can't keep me, I wish you could and I'd leave him to-morrow, tho he says he will marry me” — and that brought our acquaintance to an end. — Her man was fond of horses and racing, was a gentleman, they were going to Goodwood, and to other races before that, and would leave town soon, she with him. — “I dare say we shall meet again some where.” — “I hope so, but perhaps not” — she replied.
I had never given her any money. Our acquaintance altho apparently only made for carnal delight and assuagement, seemed to be taking an affectionate spooney tone. When she left, I could not part without giving her something — and I gave her at her wish, a hand-some, big, gold bracelet made in a peculiar manner and very fashionable then. She put it on her arm when with me, and I fucked her with it on. She hugged me, and put her tongue to mine for ten minutes in silence, before we parted, and she went away wiping tears from her eyes. I felt very dull.
Curiosity took me to her house — which I found to be a large one at K**s***t*n. — She went by his name there, and they lived in an expensive manner.
She was a lovely creature, tallish, with dark hazel eyes and dark brown hair, and exquisite teeth, had big haunches and an unusually small waist. Her form looked exquisite as I fucked her dog fashion, and whilst her bum was close to my belly, the gentle swell out of the buttocks from her waist and its outwards swell af- terwards towards her breasts and armpits, as she bent naked over the bed, made the most exquisitely voluptuous spectacle.