Then we drank some Bordeaux, and talked a while. She didn't like the life, had only been at it four months, some one persuaded her to come. She'd not seen Paris and didn't mean to go. She would go back to Cairo, or Alexandria, and again be “Nurse to de leetle childs.” — “You won't get fucked there.” “Oh — yes — I fuckee dere before I come here.” — Then she let me know that it was “fuckee for likee” and that tho she would be a nursemaid she should still be fucked. — She was grateful for ten francs and I departed, yet now I think of it, I wonder how I came to like this darkie's body and fucking, so much.

At eight o'clock one cold morning in November, I walked along on my way to a railway station. I was going out shooting, my gun and luggage had gone the previous day to my friend's house, and I was to meet him at ten o'clock. I was at the moment in a quiet street of semi-detached houses, not a person was visible but a policeman and a milkman, the inhabitants being, I suppose, just out of bed. — Turning a corner, I saw about a hundred feet ahead of me two women standing talking, one a stoutish well-grown woman of common class with a bonnet on, the other shorter who had something in her hand, and who had only a cap on and looked like a servant.

The taller woman had her face full towards me, and as I approached I saw that she looked about four and twenty. She had fine dark eyes and hair, was well-formed and soldily built, had very big breasts, and resembled the big country servants who come to London. She was evidently of poor class, but had good neat clothing tho not warm enough for the season. She had a parcel in her hand. — I was very fit that morning, her looks pleased me, and as I got nearer and took in at a glance all I have said, my pego thrilled and I thought she was just the build I like to fuck. A clipping cunt between heavy thighs she has, thought I.

Instintively I suppose, and certainly without any object than gazing at a fine woman, I slightly slackened my pace. As I got nearer, her eyes fastened themselves on mine, as mine did on her, and kept so till I had passed her. As I passed a sensuous thrill again came thro me, and I thought I should like to fuck her. Was our lust reciprocal at that moment? When some little distance past her I looked round and she was also looking round after me. A few feet further this was repeated, I then took off my hat, she nodded, and the servant with a jug — as I then saw she was — went into an adjacent house. The woman then walked slowly on, again turned round, and immediately forgetting my destination I turned, and went after. She stopped and soon I was close to her. Dozens of times women and I have looked round after each other on similar chance meetings, which generally ended in such looks. But is there not in such simultaneous action, simultaneous desire? — Is there not felt tho not said, nor even at the very instant thought of, a mutual sexual attraction which formulated and expressed means. — “I'd like him to fuck me. — I'd like to fuck her.” — “What a fine man!” “What a lovely woman!” expressions used millions of times and used instinctively, mean when analyzed a latent mutual desire to copulate, a Divine instinct, urging towards fucking.

Under this instinct and in obedience to this Divine law it was that she stood still and that I went after her, I seeking cunt, she seeking prick, and the pleasure of the life giving spermatic injection. I under this spell of lust and quite forgetting now my train said, “Well my dear, what are you waiting for?” “What are you coming to me for?” she replied, smiling. “To look at your handsome face, and hear why you are out so early.” “Where are you going so early?” “Going shooting, where are you?” “Going to a hospital.” — Her soft eyes which had been fixed caressingly on mine grew for an instant serious. — “Nonsense.” “It's true.”

— I laughed, not knowing what to make of it, and then she smiled again, and my prick throbbed and began erecting, as I then thought of the hair on her cunt. — As far as I can recollect, thinking of her cuntal ornament was thro noticing that she'd unusually thick eyebrows

— How strangely ideas connect. — My prick gave a final jerk and stood fully erect. “I wish I were going to bed with you instead.” “Oh! indeed.” She looked down, then at me, then at the ground again. “Yes, it would be warm there.” “You haven't much to complain of the cold.” — I'd very warm winter clothes on.

— “No, but you are not too warm.” — “All I've got warm is up the spout to buy this.” — Shewing the parcel. — “Let us go to bed in the warm, and I'll take your things out of the spout.” “I'm damned,” said she, and laughed shaking her head. Then she turned round and walked on after first looking towards the house which the other women had entered. I followed her.

A few paces and she'd neared the corner then stopped thoughtfully. “Come,” said I. She looked long and strangely in my eyes without replying. — “Give me your hand.” She'd no gloves on. — “What for?” laughing. “Give it me.” — She did. I took it but hesitated to say what rose to my lips. “Well?” said she, looking at me, as if for explanation. My prick gave a throb. — “You want fucking.” — “I'm damned,” said she, again laughing, and snatching her hand away. — “I've made you want it.” “You ain't, you beast.” “Come, and I'll get them out of the spout.” She looked up and down the street, anxiously, only a man or two looking like clerks walking quickly were visible. — “Come.” “Where are you going to?” “A coffee shop, where is there one?” “I'm strange about here and know none.” — So was I and for a moment hesitated, suddenly recollected my train and looked at my watch. — “The Devil! I've lost it.” “Lost what?” “Never mind, I'm too late now, let's walk this way and I'll get them out of the spout.” — “Oh! not past that house, my cousin lives there, she knows where I'm goin to.” — I turned the other way. — “You go first, I hope it ain't far” said she, I walked on, she following me.

Soon after, “Here, hi,” she cried. — I turned round. “You'll take 'em out of pawn won't yer now,” said she doubtingly, and stopped. “Yes, how much?” “Its thirty-eight and six then, will you now?” “All right.” — I walked on towards where I knew the main road lay, wondering at the strange turn things had taken and filled with desire to fuck her, she still following a few paces behind me. In a few minutes we were in a four wheeler. “Oh I can't go all that way, I've got to call on my brother,” said she when she heard the direction given. — “I'll send you back in a cab.” Next minute in the cab, my hand was up her petticoats. — “Oh no, not here, wait till we're there, you shan't.” — But in a trice my fingers were on her cunt spite of her modest struggles — for modest they seemed — and so soon as I'd found her clitoris and had frigged it a little she was quiet — they all are.

“Put your hand under my greatcoat and feel my prick.” I got it out, she looked at me hard for a minute and then she clutched it. — “Oh, ain't it warm?” — Her hand was like ice, and she'd no gloves. — “Oh, they'll see us — don't,” — but she opened her thighs to let me frig, and soon, “I shall do it if you go on, oh, don't,” — and she gave at that moment the convulsive grip on my pego which often women do when being frigged almost to spending point. I ceased frigging her, then stopped at an office and telegraphed to my friend that I'd missed the train. As I re-entered the cab, “Let me go, I'd rather,” said she mournfully. But her fine eyes were soft, were full of lust. “Nonsense.” — On we went, my hand now on her thighs only touching her motte, and putting up my pego lest I should spend, thro her handling, for I'd made her handle it again.

I tried to learn where she was going and who she was, but failed, I tried angering her. — “Ain't I married? I am tho, but my ring is popped — worse luck.” Then I tried to get an admission that she'd had other men. She showed no anger, but quietly denied it. — “No, I've never had my thing felt in a cab before never — never.” “Do you like it?” “No. What a curious bloke you are, you're not going to cheat me are you — have you got the money?” She seemed suddenly doubtful so I pulled out a handful. — “Oh! wouldn't all that make us happy,” quoth she. “No, I haven't had it done to me for three weeks.” — “Say fucked and I'll give you half a crown at once.” “Give it us then.” — She took it, spat upon and pocketted it. — “Say it.” — “I ain't been fucked then, and shan't for some weeks more,” and she burst out laughing. “Yes you will, I shall fuck you.” — “Oh — ah — yes, — I means my Bob.” “Whose Bob?” “My husband, and I won't tell you any thing more,” and I couldn't get more then. But she kissed me, when I kissed her rapturously, and I talked my baudiest, stir-ring her lust up for I saw she was randy, saw it in her eyes, but all she said was “Oh — ah” at each baudy sentence, and smiled.