She began frigging him, then he felt her. “You've not washed.” — “No, how could I? — I will.” — “My spunk's on your thighs.” — “Yes, did you spend?” — “My ballocks were damned full,” — said he with a coarse laugh. — Both laughed, and went on talking about some woman who had one of the smallest cunts he'd ever fucked, and about some swell Paphians she had known formerly, whilst she went on frigging him till, “It's stiff, let's do it.” — “Wash it.” — She got up, and holding the ewer, — “There's no water.” — “Ring for Sally and I'll show her my prick” — said he laughing and handling it. — “I shan't — you'd better not — never mind washing” — getting on the bed again and frigging his tool. — In another minute after lewed chat he mounted her, she'd pulled her chemise off and tried to pull off his shirt. Saying it was cold, he refused but tucked it up to his waist.
They were fucking in an instant. Is the spectacle of even a handsome couple fucking beautiful or not? — Is the sight of a beautiful creature, all modesty and grace — whom one has walked, talked, and danced with, to be admired when on her back, heaving her buttocks up, her thighs high and round the man's whilst under is a thick gristly stem protruding from his belly, and going like a steam piston in and out of a bush of hair round her cunt — is it beautiful? Both rumps jog, and heave, and thrust and meet, till with sighs and murmurs both are quiet. Is it a spectacle beautiful or not? — No. — Yet an entrancing one. — One that no man or woman would hesitate to look at, enjoy, and envy, none whose cunt wouldn't yearn — whose prick wouldn't stiffen at the sight. — Yet it's not beautiful, tho exciting, stimulating, entrancing to all the senses.
This was really a fine couple I must say, much as I disliked his vulgarity, but to know that that big tube, with its inner tube of discharge, was thrusting up her tube, with the intensest pleasure to both, made my prick, without frigging, stand till I heard their murmurs, knew that their pleasure was over.
He rolled off of her, she didn't hurry him. “Get me a glass of whiskey and water.” — “I shan't, you've had enough, get it yourself in the kitchen if you want it, don't make a noise, I don't want my sister to know a man's here.” The scout — Mrs. * * * — took care the man shouldn't know I was there. Hastily he put on his clothes and went off. “Hish” said she as he went downstairs and she waited till he got to the kitchen.
In she came and I looked at her sexual treasure. Sperm is now to me clean, wholesome. It's the out-come of life — the issue and cause of the greatest human pleasure to giver and receiver. — I no longer mind my fingers being in it, but like to feel a cunt which is lubricated with it. — I opened hers, felt up it, wiped my fingers on my balls, and on her motte — the salacity of the act delighted me. “You beast, you,” said she but looking pleased with the lascivious act. Then up into her my prick went, and prick and cunt then revelled in the unction and the thrusts, and the lubricated friction of our movements, till both sobbed out our joy in the delicious crisis — her cunt discharged, my balls shot forth their sperm, and we mixed this essence of male and female life in her sweet channel — oh happy woman!
Pressing her sweet form to mine, her hand clasping my buttocks — in the lubricious conjunction we lay. — Slowly I still kissed her, our wet lips mingling moistures there as we lay conjoined — eyes closed — baudily thinking — vague visions of lust dreamily passing thro our brains. “Aren't we beasts?” — the first words spoken. — “Damn it, H*l*n — don't say that again — it's nonsense — nothing beastly about it — what beast could do or care about doing what you and I have done? — it's heavenly, divine — don't — I've often told you you annoy me by saying it.” She laughed, her belly jogged, her cunt moved, and out came my prick, and at once as many and as much as I could get of my fingers up her cunt I put there — lewed still.
This again was on a warm autumn afternoon, for it suited us both to meet at that time — the master of the house was then away. Soon donkey prick was got out of the house. I dressed, we had tea and toast, then I licked her cunt till she was exhausted with pleasure, then left.
Chapter VI
In Spain. • Two very small juveniles. • At the bull ring. • The Count's mistress tailed. • An immoral family. — Choice of two cunts and one rectum. • The young lass selected. • The young bugger rejected. • A little prick felt. • Fucking on the floor. • Soldiers' women at Gib. • Groping at C*d*z. • H.'s lascivity and confidences. • An evening with Camille and H*l*n. • A cuntal purse again.
[To abbreviate, I had retained nothing relating to two months abroad this summer, but on reading it before destroying the manuscript, decided to retain it; so interpolate it here.]
In the hot season, wrong for travelling, I went to Spain — indeed this year was pregnant with erotic novelties to me. In large towns I always found a bordel of some sort, and saw there native beauties, even if I did not tail them. My visits were generally in the evening. I saw some of the poorest, as well as the high priced “Mujeres mundanas.”
At M*d**d I saw two little girls in the street — they had been walking about in the day like ordinary children of the poor — so young that I took no notice of them. — That evening not thinking of amatory business, I saw the two, and fancied one looked invitingly at me. I turned round, they were looking back and one came back to me. — Was it their instinct that I needed a cunt and made them come after me? Certain it was that I had neither sensuous thoughts or sensations at the moment, but now came a rush of lust, a delicious feeling in my prick, a desire to see them naked, and I offered a small sum by show rather than by word, which was at once accepted. I only knew a few words of their language then, but in every country learn quickly, those which express the sexual organs, and their pleasures.
Off they went through several streets, till I had lost my way, and began to reflect when I found the quarter was a poor one. Under a huge archway of a shabby looking big house they turned, I found them waiting, they spoke and made signs, but I didn't understand, half feared a trap, didn't now feel sure they were punks — which was foolish — I might be robbed, murdered even, so hesitated. They went to a dimly lighted stone staircase, I didn't stir, they came back, spoke, gesticulated — I was to follow them — then — no one being about — I stooped to feel the tallest one's cunt. Quickly she lifted the only dress she had on, and opened her thighs for me to feel her cunt. — It was hairless. My prick then throbbed, and under its impulse I went up to a fourth or fifth floor, an old woman came out of a room, opened a door, nodded at me, the girls spoke to her, back she went, and in a second I was in a large desolate bedroom with scarcely an article of furniture.
I sat on a chair, felt both their tight little cunts, there was no virginity, made signs that I wanted them naked, and in a second both were so. — They scarcely had any clothing on, one only her frock, one had no stockings, both had no bonnets or head dress. — It was scorching hot weather. The bed looked so miserable that I would not lay down upon it, and put the taller of the two on to a large square heavy table which was in the centre of the room. — There was but one miserable tallow candle, and by its aid I looked well at the biggest girl's cunt, which had plumpish lips and not a vestige of hair. Then I put the other one on the table, and found her cunt as bald. — Then one girl held out her hand for money, and I gave them what I promised — not quite eighteen pence English money — each looked at the other's gift, seemed satisfied, and both got on to the wretched dirty creaking bed — then from their small stature, and the look of their cunts, I guessed they neither were more than twelve years old — I tried to ascertain that but couldn't make myself understood.