Having done chaffing the lewed-looking barmaid, and more customers having come in, I was leaving, when in rushed the beauty dragging with her the child. — “I've lost my parasol, did I leave it here?” Just by my legs it was, leaning against the counter, I had not noticed it before. — She was loquacious, was so glad, wouldn't have lost it for anything, hadn't found her loss till she'd put her mother into an omnibus, etc., etc. — “How hot it's made you.” — “Yes it's flurried me so.” — “Have some iced lemonade and sherry.” — “Thank you I'd rather not.” — But I'd ordered it, and before five minutes had gone she'd drank a tumbler full and was quite gracious, her eyes beaming with love, with the softness of desire. — Soon after we left the public house together, she was going to F**h**m by omnibus.
In the Strand I waited by her side. The first omnibus was full. — “I'm going your way, have a seat in my cab.” — Hesitation, refusal, then acceptance. Into the cab we got, she sat the little girl in front of us who at once fell asleep, proximity completed my desire for her, and then came twenty minutes of sexual excitement, during which it is difficult to recollect exactly what, or the order in which it all took place. — Was it her husband I'd heard her talking about? — “It was.” — “And away from you four months.” — “Yes, nearly five.” — “I wish I'd been your bedfellow since.” — The words seemed to astonish her. — “You mustn't talk like that” — of course no one had been her bed-fellow. Then I seized her and kissed her. — She objected, resisted, struggled, was sorry she'd got into the cab, but I kissed on and gradually she yielded. Then I risked all for time was short. — How I should like to see beautiful face with a bonnet — “and this beautiful flesh” — pinching her thigh. “let's go and have tea together, and talk about it. — I'm dying for you and never saw a more beautiful creature. — I am sure you're as beautiful in form as your face is — five months and in bed alone by yourself?” — “Hish — hish — you mustn't.” — But she smiled, tho trying to look severe. — “Oh! look at the child” (who was asleep), I went on in the same strain. — “Oh — really — it's abominable, let me get out.” — “My God, let me have you or I shall die, you're exquisite.” Tho a blazing sun-shiny day, excitedly forgetting aught but my wants I pulled my truncheon out, and ere she had the least notion I suppose of my intention had put her hand to it. — “Oh! don't, pray” said she withdrawing it but not quickly. — Her manner was yielding, her “oho don't pray” told that her desires were conquering her. — “Oh let us dear, I'm bursting, come my darling and have some tea, — let me feel your lovely flesh.” Stooping suddenly I got my hand up her clothes, and my fingers as well on her cunt as her closed thighs permitted. — “Oho, what are you doing, sir,” — she cried out. — “Oh, look, the people will see you — oh don't — don't now” — she screeched as furiously I drove my fingers between her closed thighs till I felt the upper end of the moist notch. — “Look, my child's tumbling.”
By the jolting of the cab the child was falling for- wards. Beauty half rose, put out her hands to catch her, and then the whole length of my forefinger slid between the lips of the moist gap, which was as wet as if she'd piddled herself. — She took the child on her lap, my fingers were dislodged as she sat down again, and she looked at me with eyes half closed, and humid with voluptuous sensations. — She wished she hadn't got into the cab, and had taken an omnibus — our talk became inconsecutive, in frank language I pressed my wants and said I knew she'd a lover. She declared she'd not. Then I again got my hand up her clothes, begging and persuading, and at last she said she'd like a cup of tea, for the wine had got into her head and I'd quite upset her.
We had then got far along Piccadilly and away from any baudy house I knew. So many of the haunts of Venus known to me have been closed, that I every now and then take a well dressed Paphian for the sake of finding where good accommodation can be had, to meet these amorous contingencies. — I turned the cab towards such a house, we alighted not far from the door, and then she refused at first to follow me, but at length yielded for the sake of the tea, and we were soon in a bedroom. Not a few women have entered a brothel with me — “to have a cup of tea.” My humbug and theirs also — a mere sham of modesty, for I fancy most of them knew well what we were going for.
“What can I do with my little girl?” said she as I shut the door, “I'm so frightened I wish I hadn't seen you.” —The child was laid on the sofa after whining and crying, and being sat on the pot to piddle, and the next minute was sound asleep. — “When is the tea coming?” — “Presently, but my darling let us enjoy ourselves.” — No she wouldn't, but her eyes said she would, and there was a little struggle. — No, she'd take nothing but her bonnet off, — that done, again tea was asked for. — No, she wouldn't get on the bed — was afraid.
After more persuasion and now open talk of fucking — and the shame it was she'd 'been left unfucked for some months. — “What will become of me if I get in the family way?” — Out I pulled my prick. “Well feel it, and let me feel you, and that is all I'll ask you.” — She, leaning against the bed saying “no — no” — I'm in front of her, we handled prick and cunt. — “I shall spend in your hand.” — “Oh don't” she sighed as her bum wriggled under the titillation of her cunt. — “No — I won't then — I dare not” — whilst saying that, I pushed, half lifted her on to the bed — her resistance was gone and she half helped herself up.
Next minute I was by her side, I unbraced and pushed my trowsers down, then showed her a glorious erection. — “Feel it love, that's going up your lovely cunt.” — She stretched out her hand rapidly and grasped it. Taking it out of her hand I threw up her clothes, saw large white thighs, a widespread dark-haired motte, threw myself upon her, and the next second my prick was in a soft glowing sheath, lubricated already by its own lust — up to my balls. “Hharr” murmured she as the stiff shaft struck her womb, and her eyes closed in voluptuous enjoyment. She moved her thighs well up to get every bit of my gristle into her, our tongues met, and ere I, hot as I was, had approached my crisis, — “Ah — ah — ah” — she staccatoed, whilst a tight grip of her cunt and the rapid oscillation of her soft bum told me she'd spent. A deluge of her own seemed to have filled her cunt, which loosened round my tool as cunts do after their spend, whilst I was still ramming it with steam engine energy.
Her quietness and relaxed vagina annoyed me. I don't like a woman to spend so quickly, nor to lose that exquisite cuntal grip which dies away with her spend. I love the heavenly crisis to arrive with hers, so ceased fucking and withdrew my tool. — “You've spent dear, why didn't you wait for me?” — “Oh! couldn't.” — “Feel my prick, it's wet.” Readily she grasped it, and I laid by her side and began frigging her. — “You'll spend again.” — “Yes, and soon. — Aha — yes, — ah — ah — put it in again.” On to her I turned, up went my shaft into her lubricious quim, the rest had prolonged my pleasure, her chastity had left her hot and ready, and as my pulsating prick jetted out its thick hot spunk into her, she clasped me and spent again, our mouths glued together yet sighing and murmuring our heavenly pleasure, till exhausted I lay quiet on her soft full belly.
She was certainly slightly overcome with sherry, and now with the soft and satisfied feeling which comes to man and woman after fucking. — “Oh! I'm so sleepy, it's the wine” — quoth she opening her eyes as I raised my self partially up — still pressing my belly to hers, keeping my prick in the hot lubricious cunt. But my shrinking injector drew outwards, a torrent of spendings following it from her inundated sheath, I fell off on her side, she turned her face to mine, and laying so we talked, or rather I did, and in a few minutes was irritating the red button of her clitoris, now soft and glutinous, and more pleasant to finger even than before.