I think that on the average, men between twenty-five and forty-five, and in full strength, are at their first fuck no more than four or five minutes in the woman's cunt, which includes the lingering of the prick for a short time after the seminal discharge. The second fuck occupies a longer time, but of the second operations I have seen fewer. I have myself I am sure kept my prick in for twenty minutes at my second poke, ceasing to thrust, nearly withdrawing it, checking the spend when pleasure became strong, then keeping it up a few minutes after spending.
If a woman has three men on one night — and many do — and each on the average thrusts his prick four minutes only, and at the rate of fifty thrusts a minute, she would have six hundred thrusts up her cunt. — What a fine material a cunt lining must be!
I don't think any man could make such observations if his spermholder was full, and he himself wanted to fuck. — He must be cool, and collected, which means empty ballocks. This was my case when most of the observations were made on special nights, but on others the results were about the same. Few of the men were more than half an hour with the women altogether, including amatory preliminaries, dressing, and undressing.
In my youth I fucked women in silence excepting the sighs and murmurs of pleasure. When older, with soft-est words of love and endearment, mixed at times with expressions of rapturous adoration of the cunt I was enjoying, and with the ideal beauty of which and its owner my mind was filled as: — “Darling — lovely cunt.” — Pleasure evokes voluptuous thoughts and reminiscences most varied. I now ejaculate the most obscene words and phrases. This stimulates my passions, increases my pleasure, and affect, I find, my partner in fucking, who sympathetically responds similar words, heightening her pleasure and mine as well. Of the many men I have seen fucking, few have cried out such lustful, stimulating words as I now do — when I could hear them, which was not always the case.
The language of love is always exaggerated, hyperbolical, full of flights of fancy. A standing prick and a stiffening moistening cunt cast a glamour over- the genitals and all their operations. The glowing terms of lust and love seem almost ridiculous when fucking is over and one is cool, yet they represent the exact feelings and sentiments of both sexes when fucking. Curious to know the quantity of sperm spent at the first fuck, many a time I have frigged during my career. I have also frigged men, and seen a hundred cunts with recently injected semen in them. I fancy that a large tea spoon full is about the quantity spent by a man at his first fuck, when in the vigor of life. Harlots have told me the same, but one told me she knew a man who spent about a dessert spoonful. In the decline of life the quantity falls to beneath a tea spoon full — it is a steadily diminishing quantity with age — the quantities spoken of in baudy books as spent are quite figurative.
Among the hundred and fifty pairs I have seen copulating I have scarcely seen any of those fanciful, outrи amourous tricks, which I have myself played with women. This sometimes makes me think that I am somewhat exceptional in this. Nearly all of my tricks have however been played at the houses or lodgings of the women, and after I have known them sometime. Perhaps this is the case with other men.
Chapter XV
At a French seaport. • A cafй chantant. • Next day after luncheon. • Giulia and Elise. • Confessions of tribadism. • A tribadic orgy. • Erotic investigations. • Sodomy offered and declined.
I landed at the town of M**s****s on my return from the East, glad to see white faces and flesh again. For a month nearly no sperm had issued from my scrotum. At a cafe chantant I saw two finely grown and remarkably handsome women, one looking about twenty-five, the other perhaps thirty years of age. They were so quiet, that I scarcely imagined at first they were Paphians, especially as in the room were many well to do respectable women with their husbands and children. But seeing that men spoke to them, I got quietly the address of one and half promised to see her the following day. She was a sweet, modest-faced creature, with natural wavy hair of a light chestnut colour. Fresh as a daisy she looked, and had I been alone should have gone home with her at once, but having a friend with me had to maneuvre. Madame Elise was on her card.
After a good luncheon next day I called on her, and as going into the bedroom, saw thro a half opened door two women eating at a table. The bedroom was a hand-some one, but the bed was not made, tho the room was not in disorder otherwise. Almost directly Elise came in — Would I excuse her for five minutes, she was having luncheon, she had not — tho I had promised — much thought I should come. “Ah my God, that beast of a servant has not made the bed yet, come in here, sir.” She showed me into a larger and handsomer room, looking out into a public promenade with large trees. The sun came hot and powerful into the room for the time of year, that and the cloudless sky made every object, every speck of dust in the room visible, no blind was drawn down, no attempt to hide anything in darkness, the warmth was sought evidently. In the room by myself for some minutes I noticed every-thing. A large bed stood against the wall opposite the window and next to the side wall but leaving a passage way between the wall and bed was a long wardrobe with large glass doors; a wash stand, sofa, high chair and low chair, a large cheval glass, ottomans, pillows, and everything to make fucking easy and to see what-ever the attitude for that delicious conjunction of the sexes might be, and whether cunt, bumhole, mouth, armpits or fingers were the agents in the amusements. I saw all this quickly and that there were no baudy pictures, tho one or two nice engravings were there. The town has been notorious for centuries for its erotic tastes and habits.
Soon Elise returned, saying that her room was ready. “Why not this room, I like it better?” It was her friend's, but I could stay perhaps. Leaving the room she returned, saying that her friend expected no one and we could use it. “Who is your friend?” It was the dark lady who was with her at the concert, a Neapolitan named Giulia, they were friends, and for three years had lived together, when one moved the other did, they had been in these apartments a year. Ever since Elise had been out, Giulia and she had been to-gether, knew each other when both were in keeping. So said Elise in answer to my questions whilst I was taking off my clothes. Should she light a fire? — “Presently,” I said, for it was too warm, just then at two o'clock, tho it was March. But it was the sunny South.
For long I had not had a woman, nor seen one naked, and was dying to see the nudity of the sweet creature, but out of pure voluptuousness only — for strangely, at the moment I did not feel any sexual want. — Now I had this handsome full-grown woman all to myself and was delighted. She had on a loose silk peignoir over a chemise, and nothing else but slippers and silk stockings. I kissed her, pulled her to me as I sat, and putting my hands under her chemise felt a firm, large bum, and thighs and flesh like ivory. Then on to the hairy slit between her thighs my fingers found their way, entered it, and played between the full moist lips. Pulling up her chemise I saw the cuntal fringes, and kissed her motte and belly, clasping her to me by her ivory buttocks. — “Go to the side of the bed and show me your cunt my darling,” for the smell of her flesh, and the sweetest mixture of the aroma from it, and from her fresh-washed cunt, began to make me impatient. That sweet, cock stirring smell, from a healthy clean woman's belly and genitals, how delicious it is to me.
She laid on the side of the bed immediately, showing a delicious pair of thighs, — large, round, solid, creamy colored, the color of a fine fresh English woman, tho she was French. The thighs joined together in a thicket of chestnut hair, soft, close and curly, just showing a little pout of the cunt lips and no more. It was the form of a superbly yet sweetly made woman. Her legs hung down, her head laid back on a pillow. As I drew my chair closer and took one of her little feet on to my lap, — “Open your thighs, put that heel on the edge of the bed just under your buttocks.” — She wriggled her bum backwards on the bed a little, then put the left heel just on the edge and against her backside, and inclined her knees outwards. The cunt in all its size, fullness, and glory came into view now, slightly gaping, making a fresh red gap fringed by the soft curly chesnut hair. Lower down the globes of her bum pinched the cunt lips where they get smaller together, closing the furrow between her bum cheeks. — “Pull your cunt open, dear.” Down went her hands, with two delicately shaped forefingers she pulled aside the lips, and I saw the entire face of the vulva, — the opening of the moist avenue to the cave of love, the avenue of man's pleasure. Then the smell of sweet flesh mixed with that of a sweet cunt, came up my nostrils stronger than ever, my cock began to swell, I to be randy.