Without a word she gave herself up to me. She only winced when I put my hands up her clothes, and when I put one down her bosom, but she never spoke. De-lighted, excited yet staggered with her submission, I uttered words of love and desire. “Let me take off your frock.” — She did, but never spoke. She hesitated when I said, “Get on the bed now, love,” but she got on tranquilly, like one doing penance and absorbed in thought. I had but loosened my trowsers, and thrown off my coat, fearing some sudden interruption, and as she got on the bed I did. Kissing her, I put my hand upon her cunt and tried to have a look at it. Then she sighed. “Ohoo — no — no, don't.” Then instantly I threw my body on to hers, her thighs opened easily to me, and the next minute I was shed-ding my testicular emulsion into her. She lay quiet, with eyes closed and head turned on one side on the pillow. — My prick seemed to be stopped for a second by a barrier as I thrust at first, and then went up her rapidly, and as I came to my senses after my sexual paroxysm, my first idea was that she'd been fucked before.
As my prick came out, and I moved away, she lay with eyes closed and motionless, but with one hand pushed her clothes down over her cunt, and to all my endearments and questions and talk made no reply. I felt her cunt and looked at my hand, but no signs of bleeding was mixed with my semen. Almost directly I mounted her and fucked again, watching her now, waiting for her signs of pleasure. She shewed none till, just as my prick stiffened to the full and a premoni- tary throb of pleasure shot through it, I felt her cunt tightening round it. A few sharp, almost inaudible sighs escaped her, and she spent just as my spermatic emission wetted her cunt again.
I felt round my prick stem when its stiffness was subsiding, and dragging out the sperm with it, I covered her cunt with my hand, and withdrew it coated with our mixed mucous, but there were no sanguinary evidences of virginity.
She rose as quickly as I did, and began putting on her bonnet in haste. — “Wash, dear.” — “I must get home as fast as I can.” — “But wash first.” She never looked me in the face, as I placed a basin by the side of the bed and turned away, respecting her modesty. In five minutes we were in a cab on the way home. She would scarcely speak, but she let me feel her cunt now, that cunt of which I had never seen but the mount, and for an instant only, as I moved from off her belly. She wouldn't say if she would meet me again or not, and was determinedly taciturn, even when we parted.
Next day I went to the shop. She had written to say she was ill, the shopkeeper told me so, and she was away for a week. I went every day to see if she had returned, tho I did not go into the shop to ascertain that. At length I saw her. She was as collected as ever; indeed, I never saw any sign of agitation in her at any time, or afterwards at critical periods. She at once agreed to dine with me, and when she did, I saw afterwards all her charms. Curiously I looked at her cunt, there was no hesitation in her letting me see it, and I couldn't make out from its look whether she was virgin a week before or not, and it was two or three months before I ventured to suggest that a prick had entered her before mine. — I never was quite quite sure whether one had or not, but think not.
[Here I break off purposely. I have given her a name not even phonetically resembling her own, and have avoided giving such description of her as would lead to identification. For the same reason I burn the rest of my narrative relating to her. The liaison so began, was fruitful in events which both regret, and the consequences of which affect me still. She is still living.]
Chapter V
A hairless cunted Moslem. • A shaven cunted Greek. • Three apprentice girls in a cab. • Alone with Winifred. • A sovereign bribe. • Cab riding. • The stationer's shop. • Sister Lydia. • The Gentleman lodger. • Piety against a wall. • Winifred on the watch. • The couple detected. • Sisterly arrangements. • The help of a book. • Winifred at a baudy house. • Verification of her sex. • Hands crossing, fingers active. • Lydia's advice. • Winifred consents. • A commonplace termination. • Utility of a medical title.
I was again in the East of Europe, and, going down the Danube, reached Constantinople. — Outside my hotel there were two or three hangers-on loafers, in semi-oriental dress, who, when I and other visitors appeared, accosted us, offering their services to find men or women for us, or to show us about the city. The city was in fact their first offer. It was only when a little away from the hotel and from other travellers that the suggestions about copulation came out. I had been talking with a gentleman at my hotel, who had been staying in the city for many months and had heard from him that all Turkish women re-moved the hair from their cunts, so when one of these soi-disant guides asked me if I would like “a lady with-out hair on it” — for the fellow spoke not bad English, — I consented to go with him. He led me down hill into a torturous narrow lane, about going into which, had it been in a Western city of Europe, I should have hesitated to accompany a stranger. — But here all the ways were crooked, and it was broad daylight. Knocking with a stick at a door in a wall of a house without a window in it, and giving a slight but peculiar howl, the door opened, a female appeared, and, accosting him whilst looking at me, closed the door which she had opened and beckoned me to follow her. My guide squatted on a mat, and without a word or taking any further notice of me, began to smoke a cigar which looked as if he had manufactured it himself. Useful as I have found pimps, often as I have used them, I never could bear the animals to await me at a female's house, but dismissed them, either paying them then or letting them know (and they knew well enough) where they could find me for their pay. But in this strange city of a Moslem race where I did not understand a word of the language and where people disappear mysteriously, I felt rather glad than otherwise that he was waiting for me. — What does a man of that class think about when he knows he has led a man to a house where he may get a woman, I wonder?
The woman led me across a small dusty yard, in which stood one tree growing seemingly out of sand, up a flight of stairs to a room with two doors in it, one at which we entered, the other opposite to it. There she stopped, smiled, nodded, and held out her hand. — I understood Backsheesh and dropped a small coin into it. She looked discontented and I added another. Then, smilingly, she opened the opposite door, looked in, went in, and, turning round, beckoned to me. I went in, the door closed behind me, and I found myself in the presence of a dark eyed lady smoking a chibouque, with something like lemonade in a glass beside her on a small stool, whilst she lay on a long sort of divan about a foot above the floor.
Then began dumb play. Knowing she was a courtesan (though the guide had most volubly whilst going along with him said she was nothing of the kind), I didn't shilly-shally long. Thrusting my hands up between baggy trowsers as I sat down by her feet, I tried to feel her cunt, but felt nothing but linen. She laughed and held out her hand. I pointed to the door at which I had entered. She clapped her hands and in came the female who had of course been expecting it. They talked, I didn't understand a word of it, but saw it was about money, and it ended, after much gesticulation on all sides, in my paying about four times as much as I was told by my guide was the gay-woman's fee, and which I had already paid to the door woman. I knew I was being done, but had expected that, and it didn't even annoy me.
Then the lady, the financial part of the business being arranged, gradually divested herself of all but her chemise, and I saw a plump, indeed a fattish female, whom I should have guessed thirty in London or Paris, with a face painted in all ways, but who really was handsome, and who, without more ado, opened a pair of fat white thighs, and disclosed her split or slit.