After breakfast having no shooting, Fred and I went to town to see our women. Five minutes after our arrival, both were being fucked. We found sitting with Mabel and Laura, the mistress of Lord A and will call her Lady A.... After we had pumped our sperm out, we all went into the sitting-room, Lady A.... was there still. Fred asked me what I had been doing, I asked him the same, there was a general warm talk without coarse language. Lady A.... told the girls they were lucky, for she had not seen Lord A... . for a month, and had not had anything done to her for that length of time.
Fred then went out, and returned in an hour. Taking me a side he showed me baudy engravings, which he meant to throw into the garden of the school, where the young ladies walked daily after breakfast if fine. I objected that his sister and cousin might find them. He did not care. “It will make them all so damned randy, that they won't know whether their arses are at their backs or fronts.” This was all through my telling him what I had heard the two girls in the bath-room say to each other; and he actually that night got over the wall, into the pleasure-grounds, and laid the prints in a long building, half shed half summer-house. From his bed-room window we could see over the wall which separated the Reverend's garden from the school-garden. I suggested sending them to a young lady by post. “No, she would keep them to herself.” I must mention that each lady had a separate bed- room; they were not allowed to go to each other's bed-room, they met only at meals, or in the class-room, or drawing-room, or when out of doors. No,-the prints had better be seen by several, they would tell each other, and thus all see them. The idea of the girls seeing baudy pictures tickled us immensely. I had then wondered why the school-mistresses made it a rule that no lady should go into another's bed-room, and once asked my female cousin. She said she did not know.
Directly after breakfast we saw the ladies in the garden, pulled down our blind, and peeped. “There is Carry”, said Fred laughing as his sister showed among them. We saw a group approach the spot, the next instant all their heads were close together, looking at something. Every now and then one would stealthily look up towards the house, then another would, as if they feared being seen. On being joined by two or three others, they all moved out of sight into the shed, and we saw no more.
Fred was delighted, he did nothing but suggest how such and such a one felt at that moment. “I dare say their cunts are as hot as fire, their thighs squeeze, their arses wriggle as they walk; they will all frig them-selves to-night.”
Fred soon afterwards said he must go to town by the next train. I would go too. “I must go to so and so”, said he, “so can't be with you much.” I resolved to stay. Going into the house I saw Mrs. Maria dressed, she was going to town. “I will walk with you”, said Fred, “to the station, we shall go up to-gether.” Mrs. Maria went to London to make purchases, and do all the business for the school. Neither came back till the latest train; I was sitting smoking with the Reverend when his wife returned, she looked worn out. Soon afterwards in came Fred, who looked as if he had been out all night. Said he to Mrs. Maria in a surprised manner, “Have you only just returned?” “Yes”, said she in an innocent way. “We have both come by the same train then without knowing it”, he replied.
I don't know what thoughts led to it, but the conviction came over me that he had seen Maria's thighs closer than he did through the cracks in the bath-room partition. I noticed his manner next morning, saw him look at her, and she at him at breakfast, and said to myself, “He has fucked her.”
Next day we had shooting. At night Fred went to town. Next day Mrs. Maria went, and came home late, Fred not returning till the following morning. Mrs. Maria looked so tired that her husband noticed it. “She has had her belly-full again”, I said to myself. As she took her bath next morning (Fred not with me), she rubbed herself dry, put on her chemise, and felt her cunt; it was a prolonged feel. I told Fred of that. His remarks were evidently intended to mislead me.
We wanted to see the Saturday night bathing, though my aunt wanted to return home; but as we had shooting on Saturday, she consented to remain over Sunday. My cousins again dined with us at the Reverend's, and two of my cousins' special friends. What pleasure I had in looking at them, knowing the looks of their backs and bellies as well as their faces, wondering what they thought of the baudy pictures, at the way in which women continue to look so modest, talk softly, look in a man's face, and keep a demure demeanor, even if lust be stinging their cunts. It is the training in hypocrisy, which is so large a part of female education.
On Friday Fred sprained his leg, on the Saturday it was too stiff to go out shooting. I did, and returned to dinner. Mrs. Maria had attended to him, her husband was at church nearly all Saturday, so perhaps she had rubbed a little higher than his ankle. My aunt spent all the time she could at the school, or walking out with her daughter and niece.
Fred's sprain was an excuse for going to his bed-room whither I accompanied him. In the dusty closet Fred's lameness was better. In came the young ladies, the younger ones first. It was a pretty sight, a decently voluptuous one, to see the dainty white-fleshed creatures throw off their dresses, and stand naked, one by one entering the bath, rub their flesh dry, and their cunt-wigs free from moisture; to see one with her bum towards you, rubbing her back vigorously with a towel pulled straight with both hands, whilst her bum-cheeks, loins, and thighs quivered with the motion and friction. Another put one leg on a chair whilst she rubbed her quim dry. Then came the servants. Again I recollect having my lust more stirred at seeing the fuller grown women strip, and stand with boots and stockings on; than at seeing the virgin ladies naked. I can't account for this at all. I write exactly what I recollect.
When we saw Fred's sister, he whispered that all his family had a good deal of hair on their privates. I saw his prick soon afterwards. He spoke as if he were intimately acquainted with the cunts and pricks of the whole family. The two young ladies who looked at each other's privates did not do so again, the flatfuckers took no pleasure in each other's arms, they soaped each other's backs, and helped to dry each other; both rubbed themselves in front of the fire,-a fine couple of women. “I want to piddle so”, said one just as she finished bathing. “Piddle in the bath”, said the other, “there is no one else going into it.” And she did so standing up, then jumped rapidly out, and they both laughed.
I have seen before and since through key-holes and peep-holes women and men wash, but it was with difficulty. Here all was fairly clear. The crevice admitted enough sight, to distinguish form, face, feature, and colour of hair and eyes. I thought of it for years, but never told a man. Oftentimes when fucking, the bathing spectacle came into my mind, and fetched my sperm out of me in a moment.
The next morning we jobbed a few more holes between other boards, so as to make it look as if the shrinking of the wood had cracked the paper in more than one place, carefully closed the door and dipped the heads of the screws in vinegar to darken them. The whole looked rusty, and as we hoped when we had done no one would ever guess the game we had been up to. We swept up dust from the carpet, and pushed it under the bottom of the door, and I think our prank never was known. The old house is pulled down now.
I went to church again for the pleasure of staring at the ladies, it was rapture to look at them, and think of their virgin cunts, think they had seen the baudy prints. My cousin Fred had gone out somewhere, Mrs. Maria, who usually went to church with her husband, was ill. In the middle of the service a thought came into my head. Feeling sure that Fred was after the middle-aged plump lady, I left the church, and went back, knocked at the door twice before it was opened, and then by Mrs. Maria. Said she, “I let both servants go out.” She told me this without my asking her any-thing, her hair seemed a little rough, her manner excited. I sat down, told her I had felt faint, and had a cholic in church, and so had come home. “Fred has been unwell too”, said she. “Indeed?-I thought he was out.” “He returned, and has been in bed this hour.” “Oh !” said I. It was clear to me why her hair was rough. Fred was abed, but awake. Had Mrs. Maria been fucked on that bed?