She'd relinquished my prick as her spending came on (they all do so at that supreme moment) leaving it pulsating, red hot, ruby tipped, bursting, almost ready to inundate her, as I rose and pushed her on to her back, wild to sheathe it in her glowing lubricious avenue. But she rolled off on the other side of the bed laughing and refusing me. — “Not yet — wait a bit.” — She guessed perhaps that my fucking power was limited, my gamahuching unlimited.
Into the sitting room I followed hend, another bottle of champagne was brought — both of us got fuddled, then back to bed. — “Let's be quite naked.” — “All right.” — She was baudy now, ready for anything. “I'll pull your boots off.” — “All right.” — Laying with her back on the bed I pulled all off, lifting up her legs in doing it, to see her cunt, laughing and talking about it all the time. Again she pissed, my hand beneath the stream, then both start naked mounted the bed. Again a preliminary gamahuche, my pego for a minute between her lips, then with a sheet over us, naked, side by side we felt each other's flesh, our hands roved every-where with amorous delight, till our fingers settled on prick and cunt. Then mounting her, clasping each other's buttocks, with kisses, tongue to tongue, again we fucked in heavenly transports and then fell fast asleep.
It was half past five when we awakened. Putting on her gown, — “I must give orders about dinner” quoth she. — “I cannot stay.” — “You must.” — An hour was spent partly in bed my fingers searching her glutinous gap, and she handling me from scrotum to gland. — We then dressed, had a nice dinner, and again went to bed. I gamahuched her till she was exhausted, then fucked her again, finished myself and left. — Eight hours of most delicious varied companionship had been mine.
Before I left the money again annoyed me. Was it possible that this lovely woman had simply a letch for me? I thought. — “Can I buy you anything dear, are you short of cash?” — I stammered. — “No. Bring me some flowers tomorrow” — kissing me — I did so next evening which I spent in gamahuching her much and fucking her a little. But she was satisfied and pressed me to see her again. — “As a friend,” — said she with emphasis.
I must abbreviate the rest. — That night we talked about ourselves. “Who and what was I?” — “I shall only tell you lies if you ask me.” — “Tell away,” — and I told lies. — She was an actress, I had seen her on the stage. — In a few days she was going to America. She'd had a quarrel with her lover who had kept her — tho she gained a good income — and he'd left her a week ago. The house and furniture had been given her by him. Since he'd left she'd not been fucked. — “No, and you are wrong, I haven't, I haven't used my finger.” “No wonder that the luscious, hot blooded lady wanted a fuck, when the lucky chance for me threw her in my way and I became her sensual fancy. — “You're a lovely bedfellow,” said I. — “And you are the same, I wish we could be lovers but you say its impossible.” — Three years afterwards saw her again on the stage in London, but we have never met since [she afterwards married I believe, and disappeared certainly.]
Chapter IV
An idle day in the outer suburbs. • Bread and cheese at the public house. • The showman's daughter Kit. • On the road. • Against a field gatepost. • On straw in a calf shed. • In a barn. • A masturbating miller's boy. • Epitome of voluptuous amusements with H. • A female trio and myself. • Copulation, fornication, irrumination. • Bum-digitation, cunnitonguing, and cunni-dildoing.
Later on this year came other luck for me. — On a muggy misty morning towards the end of October, I was at a sessions house at the extreme east of London, having to my annoyance been summoned as witness in action of a friend of mine, against a farmer whose cart had damaged his carriage when driving me. On arriving I found to my further annoyance that the trial was postponed. This information sent had never reached me.
It was near a poor village, a couple of miles from the Thames in an agricultural district. Having nothing to do and not having ever seen the neighbourhood, I strolled about, went into the church and so on. Then feeling hungry — having left home early — entered a small public house, in front of which stood three or four showman's vans. Inside at the bar were the showman and wife drinking beer and smoking, and a fine, strapping, light haired florid faced girl of about seven-teen — evidently a daughter — together with a much younger girl. I was amused at hearing them talk about a fair they were going to, and of “Jack” whom they were waiting for, who had gone somewhere to buy a donkey. — “I shan't wait much longer, it ought to a bin here afore us. — You'd better wait Kit, gie him another hour, and then come on if he don't turn up — leave word, he'll know where to find us tonight, you'll catch us up before we gets to * * *, we'll stop two hours there and grub.”
I had ordered bread, and cheese and ale, things some-times good from a small country brewer even at a village public house, and that food I like. They had also a morning's paper with which and the food I sat in the parlor which was at one end of a long bar counter, a tap room being at the other end. The doors of both were wide open — I'd seated myself there with my back to the street window, to read better, and also be-cause the door being wide open, it amused me to hear the loud chatter of the showman and family, as well as to look at the daughter, whose sturdy legs and well fed, bronzed, but handsome face had made me speculate upon the beauty of her hidden charms. Then my cock began to swell, as she turned towards the mother, stooped, and by her movements I saw plainly she was tying her garters. There was no one to see but me and her parents, so there was no harm. But women of that class think nothing of tying up their gandters in public, simply turning away a little from those near them. The exposure of a good leg is to me always exciting, I think of the woman's cunt directly, and did so now.
Whilst eating and reading and every now and then looking along the bar, the showman said again, “Damned if I wastes time any longer, wait for Jack an hour, mind.” Then he, wife and child left. “Go and sit down Miss,” said the landlord at the bar. The girl moved straight to the parlor. — “Not there,” shouted the landlord, “that's the parlor, to the side.” But the girl was well in the room as he spoke. — “Never mind, sit down Miss, I'm going directly.” — “Thankee sir,” and she sat down looking pleased. — The barman came, apologetically to oust her, but I said the girl might remain, that I was going soon, so he departed. In a minute we had commenced talking, soon after she was partaking of bread, cheese and bottled ale which I ordered freely and I was looking at her healthy hand-some face, seized with what is cometimes called “a sinful lust of the flesh.” My cock rose up prompting me so that I was obliged to push it into a convenient position between my trowsers and belly. — No one came in, for it was not the time of day for parlor customers, who are the evening topers in a village.
Was the ale good? “Ain't it just. We drinks four-penny. — Dad drinks beer.” — She was delighted at talking to a gentleman and fed herself with freedom and the utter absence of that ill at ease, which I've so often found with servants whom I have taken to dine or sup. She told me all about the show, she slept in the last wagon with her sister. — “Mother and Dad in the other. — It's the biggest.” — “And don't brother Jack sleep with you?” — Her ruddy face grew ruddier, she was confused. — “Course not, — there ain't no room till we are at fairs.” — Then I heard that Jack wasn't her brother. Another bottle of ale opened her mouth more, and made me think how I could manage to open her lower mouth. I heard that Jack was a sort of partner, was her cousin — looked after the horses — went away the day before to buy a donkey. They wondered why he hadn't arrived, but sometimes he was away nearly a week when they'd business. — “Jack's your sweetheart.” — “Well what if he be?” “He sleeps with you when you're at fairs. — “He don't” — “He does — “He don't” — “He does. — “Well what if he do, we're agoin to marry and Dad known on it?” At length she said, bursting out laughing.