Here from my manuscript are two extracts illustrative of my notes as written almost day by day at that period — many and many a page there was of them. All were amusing, and writing them pleased me immensely at the time. Indeed I think that I had more pleasure in writing my narrative at this period than at any other, tho I had far less to write about. — Of these temporary infidelities I destroy the remaining notes now, excepting one or two curious ones told further on.
Had a woman named Susan * * * * * seemed twenty-five, a fat arsed, tho she didn't look so in her dress. — Discontented with what I'd agreed to give her, said I give no more, — where on she said. — “All right” and seemed quite satisfied. — Dark hair and eyes, plenty on her cunt, fucked well and, I think, spent; told her so. “Yes I nearly always spend with my first man if he's nice, perhaps I mayn't get another tonight.” — She hated frigging herself. — No woman should touch her own cunt, she thought. — A funny one.
21 January. — A funny little bitch about four feet six high, thin. — A modest looking juvenile cunt. — One of the smallest I ever put into — quite tight as I pushed my penis up it — hurt me as I pulled prick out quite stiff — I'd spent, tho I feared — washed. — “You're in a hurry,” said she light haired, squinny face.
23 March — A hairy arsed, low, she. — Wonder I poked her, glad to get away — ten and six — dirty rooms.
A German — long nosed — big — spoke good English, said another woman was in house — would I see her — offered five shillings. — German laughed scorn-fully so I dropped the subject. — Soon after said she'd go and see — and it ended in having a plump little whore, whose cunt I looked at, whilst I fucked the German, and for five shillings.
If I had any doubts, owing to the woman's manner, I got away as quickly as I could. Sometimes I said, “I won't poke, but show me your cunt.” I almost always looked at that, and then left, and oftentimes was in a house with another woman ten minutes afterwards. — Once or twice the look of the cunt so excited me that, “Oh, I must fuck you.” — “Perhaps you'd better not,” — but they never alledged anything but their poorliness as a reason. — By adopting this mode of dealing with the women, I expect that I often escaped an ailment.
So for some time I had two or three different women weekly — feeling quite sure that I could do duty at home as well, but I had no woman whom I took to as a friend — or regularly visited. It was one continuous change in cunt, which I saw in all sizes, developments, knowledge of the look, and capabilities of that feminine appurtenance, and the ways and manner in which women used it and permitted it to be used, and their movements, manner, and behaviour, whilst it was used.
I only select one or two funny and exceptional incidents which occurred me during this continuous change of women, and they stand in my manuscript in the following order, or something like it.
Chapter VII
Caroline the ex-chambermaid. • Her lewed moment. • Handsome backside. • Acquaintance claimed. • Prologue, copulation, Epilogue. • I am known. • Caroline's history. • She disappears. • Madeline again. • The street, the cab, the brothel. • A solemn promise. • Sarah F**z*r. • Form, face, cunt, and tongue. • Micturating frolics. • Spending indications. • Her dress. • A poke in the open. • Legs in the street. • A male competitor. • He after me. • A titanic prick. • Sarah on gamahuching. • Her nose.
One dark evening at about six o'clock, I went to a house with a woman who pleased me when I met her, she looked so fresh and plump, tho clad in a vulgar, staringly light coloured, but very good cloak. She had smiled cheekily at me as I stood under a gas lamp, to see the sort of looking woman she was, and said “Well you're coming home with me ain't you?” — on saying I was, she laughed heartily and put her arm thro mine to walk with me, in such a way that I thought she had been drinking — I sent her on in front, which was my customary mode in such affairs, and joined her in nice lodgings not far from L***h*m P***e.
She undressed quickly, and I found her a fine woman looking about twenty-five years of age, with dark hair and eyes, and with a fresh colour like that of a country woman. She had an unusually big rump and fine thighs, but with quite a youthful quantity of dark brown hair on her quim. — “Show us it, I've often wanted to see it,” said she, alluding to my prick. — She handled it and gave it a kiss with an air of satisfaction. — “You've just come in the nick of time, you want a bit, and I want a bit,” and she laughed again. Her mirth was contagious and I laughed too, but could not quite make up my mind whether she had been drinking or not.
“Not so quick my dear, let's have a good look at your cunt first.” — She'd got on the bed and thrown her chemise up ready for me, just as women do when anxious to be fucked or to get rid of a man. — “All right, look as long as you like, but poke first and look after-wards” — I declined. — “There then,” and she slipped to the bed side with thighs apart — “Now you'll want to see it the other way I suppose,” and she turned arse upwards, kneeling, and showing a pretty brown haired quim, pouting between as white, solid, and handsome a pair of bum globes as ever I saw. “Now come on.” “Are you in a hurry?” “Not a bit to get rid of you, poke me, and we'll talk afterwards.” — I got on the bed, and she amatively kissed me. — I felt her cunt inside and out, and in few minutes my prick was lying up her, satisfied, shrinking, and sticky. — “You've spent my dear.” “I should think I have, and will again,” and she kissed me more than ever — I thought I'd got a doxy just at her thoroughly lewed moment, or who had taken a letch for me. — I've had such, and their manner then is generally unmistakable, tho the manners of women vary much.
I laid on her in full enjoyment of her spermatized cunt, smoothing her fat, cool, backside, till a sudden fear of ailment came over me. “I must wash,” said I. —She put her legs round mine, held me tightly round my bum with both hands, and nestled her cunt up to my balls. — “Keep it in and wash when you've done it again, I'm all right.” “But I must get home to dinner.” “Shan't let you go till you've poked me again.” — She was chirpy in manner — there was a vivacity in her, strongly resembling that of big-eyed Betsy Johnson of whom I have told. — “I must go, I shall be late, and shan't be able to do it again for half an hour,” and I wriggled a little with the intention of quitting her body, yet was half hearted about it, so nice was she to handle. “Yes you will — what will you bet?”
I laid a little longer wondering at her manner, feeling somehow now sure that she was sound in body, thinking she had taken a letch for me, began feeling her bubbies, and investigating her armpits. — “I haven't seen you for a long time,” she said laughing. “I never saw you before,” I replied astonished. — “Oh haven't you tho, are you sure?” — I raised myself up to look at her face, and began to fancy I had. — “Oh, it's all running out of my cunt, haven't you put a lot in,” — saying which and moving me with her, she turned partly on her side, putting her leg over my haunch as she did so, still held me close to her, and caught hold of my prick, which uncunted with the movement. — “You've had a drop.” “Yes — but nothing but tea. I never drink liquor till night,” said she, squeezing gently the glans of my prick. — It was a most delicate, refined performance, and already a voluptuous feeling at the tip and running thence everywhere, filled me with desire for her. The pleasurable sensation of a soft female hand coaxing my prick, now gently clasping my balls, now twiddling round the foreskin, now pinching gently be-low the tip, brought me to voluptuous silence. My hand sought her clitoris, the spermatic moisture on her quim increased my lewedness, and again our mouths met. — “Ohoo — I want it again — put it in. — Aha — how stiff it is.” “Aha, how spunky your cunt is,” I murmured amidst wet kisses. — It was all that was said, till I'd had a gloriously voluptuous second fuck. — Then we lay together till my prick would keep in her no longer. — Quickly I washed, and left her promising to see her again, and meaning it. “Don't be long first or you won't see me again at all, shall I write to you?” were the last words she uttered after chaffing me, and saying she knew me well enough, which I denied — I fancied I had somewhere seen her before, yet dismissed that from my mind, for I rarely quite forget the face of any woman whom I have had.