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Next morning I reflected — I had come to this city intending to stop two days, had already stopped four, and had deflorated a lady who seemed ready to risk anything to be fucked. I had suggested caution which in a degree she observed, but — “I don't care what becomes of me,” — said twice or thrice in a way as if social ruin stared her in the face, I didn't like. I could riot stop much longer, and didn't want to get home rucked out, poking twice or more day after day is more than I can stand now. So, tho her exquisite signs of sexual delight when I was up her, her burning kisses, voluptuous sighs, her intense lovingness whilst fucking, gave me the most exquisite enjoyment, I resolved to save my strength and health a little, and to leave.

She usually breakfasted with her mother, but next morning appeared early on a terrace overlooking the sea. I determined to tell her I was going but hadn't the heart. She was going out with some ladies and I was to go to see her mother. I did, and found she was getting her leg well, quicker than the doctor had thought. Her brother was coming, etc. etc. This quite suited my intentions, and on leaving whispered “I shall be in my room at half past ten, the door will be open,” — intending to inform her. Then I went to breakfast, had my tobacco, went to my room, and there she was.

My intentions vanished directly I saw her, my only thought was of her secret charms. What puts letches into my head I can't tell, but suddenly I wanted to gamahuche her. I had explained to her the meaning of the word the night before, and she'd admitted that her cunt had been licked by her Ayah in India, when he was not fourteen years old. She refused to let me, was in a hurry to dress to go out with some ladies, etc. etc. We were standing close together and I was feeling her cunt. “What have you put those damned drawers on for?” (She'd not had them on before.) “It's coldish this morning.” — It was. — “I 'hate them.” — But I felt her quim thro them, not wishing to fuck, hating to be hurried in that delicious friction. — “Let me kiss it.” — “No.” Yet in a minute she was on the bedside, her bum on my hands, thighs over my, arms, my nose buried in her silky motte, my tongue searching for her clitoris between the large nymphae, and found easily for it was full sized. I kissed her thighs, held them up that my lips might kiss and rub over her satiny buttocks, then her belly, then I nibbled at her love bud, licked all over the vulva, shot my tongue up the avenue, then played it on the clitoris, sucking it in at times, then nibbling it gently, till I felt- her thighs begin to twitch, her cunt slightly jerk up. Quicker went my tongue. — “Aherr.” — “Feel my head love,” at once her hands grasped it, on went my tongue — “Ahrr — ehha” — her thighs for an instant stiffened, then quivering relaxed, a flush of cuntal juices met my tongue whilst still it lingered playing gently on her clitoris, giving the fullest pleasure, letting her lose none. Raising my head, looking at the moistened vulva, opening its red lips wider, again to see and glory in the cocks-comb edges of her lost hymen, I rose up. She was lying with eyes closed enervated by her spend. — Ah the luscious tranquility in mind and body which a spend gives both man and woman. Then she quickly got off the bed pushing down her clothes, and for the first time showed signs of modesty. She looked ashamed and away from me with flushed face as I said, “That's what gamahuching is.” — “I must go — what will they think of seeing me come out of your room so often?” (I wondered too, for she hadn't before seemed to care.) “Shall I buy some more photographs?” — “Oh, do, do,” with vivacity. — “Wash your quim, dear — let me wash it.” — Without a word she left the room, chancing whom might be in the corridor.

All the remainder of the day I did nothing but think of fucking her, of looking at her lovely thighs and buttocks, at her secret charms again — and of the position I'd fuck her in. Then I resolved to stay a day or two longer, yet knew that I must tell her, and leave at some time. Her manner was quite like one who expected the liaison to be permanent. What really passed in her mind about that I know not, for when together, our entire time was employed in talking about copulation, its preliminaries, and looking at photographs. Of photos I went out and bought another collection, met her in the hotel with the ladies she'd been out with, arranged that she should come to my room as before, soon after table d'hote dinner — at which I wasn't to dine — and she was to humbug her mother. I heard that Mamma always asked about me, and I began to fear suspiciously.

In the evening she came and took care to wait till no one was about. The door locked, “Have you got any more photos?” were almost her first words. Producing them we sat down, she looked them thro with lustful avidity, whilst I had one hand on her thigh. — It seemed to me almost incredible, that such complete familiarity should have come about between us in so short a time, she unmistakably a virgin four days before, — but so it was — I told her I'd fucked a thousand women. “Oh what a story.” Her mother had said I was a libertine by the look of my eyes. All this was seen, said and done, in a quarter of an hour, then, — “Let's do it dear.” She rose up at once ready for fucking. What woman doesn't when it's a novelty? It happened to be an unusually cold night and I suggested bed. — No she couldn't be away long and feared her mamma sending for her. — But naked we got into bed, and fucked again, laid in each other's arms after feeling and fumbling our gluey genitals till they were dry again. Then I rose on my knees and made her pull my foreskin up and down, and then I put my fingers up her cunt as far as I could — all this with loving amourous talk — till again my prick was up her and again we fucked.

In the interval between our pleasure my leaving occurred to me, yet I postponed telling it. Our talk was so delicious about sexualities, that I hadn't the heart to say what I'd intended. There is no more delicious conversation, than when a man tells to a neophyte all his experience in sexual matters. How Edith's quim heated I could tell by the way she cuddled me, the way she clutched my pego and asked about other women's cunts — very curious about those — and much about harlots and their doings; and yet I couldn't get her to utter a baudy word. — She was certainly a curious one.

The rest of the pleasant yet in some respects sad amour, must be shortened. Next day in the morning I asked her to come to my room. — Visitors were out, the chambermaid had done the rooms — there are times when but few are in the corridors — when she came. “Edith dear, I'm obliged to go to London,” — I blurted out determined to get it over. — She stared at me with mouth wide open for an instant, then flopped down heavily on a chair, buried her face in her hands, and burst into a flood of tears and sobbing. I awaited sadly, soothing as well as I could but could say nothing effectual. — At length she quieted and to some remark of mine, — “I knew it must be, and I've ruined my-self,” — not that I'd ruined her — I said that that was nonsense, but she repeated it, and that she should never marry now. We talked an hour, she in much grief, begging me to stop a day or two for she should never see me again — would I wait till her uncle came? We separated without fucking.

She however came next evening and we fucked twice. How she managed to humbug her mother at leaving her alone so much, is needless to tell. I saw her mother in her room next day, and before I left am sure she had no suspicions about me. I waited three days more till her uncle arrived, and we fucked twice every day, and talked about that operation ad libitum and all appertaining to it. Then I made her a present of the photos on condition of her repeating after me the three words, “prick, cunt, fuck” — the only ob- scene words I ever heard her say. Yet she'd a hot cunt, was salacious to her bumhole I am sure. I frigged her once, and gamahuched her every day after the first, besides fucking her. We parted that last evening in tears. She said she loved me.