VOLUME 8 CHAPTER 10

A light-haired Irish bitch. • Foul-tongued and hotarsed. • Recondite expressions. • “D’ye loike me.” • Her bolt from Dublin. • Baggage detained. • A suspicious tale. • My regrets at losing Sarah. • Camille revisited. • Her brothel venture. • About sodomites and catamites. • Buggers’ sphincters. • Her friend’s catamitic tastes. • Sodomy cum gamahuche. • Lolotte the young Belgain. • On the qualities of different cunts. • Lolotte’s gamahuche. • Reflexions on the change in my erotic tastes. • An artist in lewedness. • French, fat, white-skinned, red-haired and thirty-five. • Refined ministrations. • Anal fingering. • A sphincter dilated. • Lingual delicacies. • Kid gloves and cold cream. • The curious chair. • Erotic suggestions. • Dildo buggery. • A second harlot • two pleasures at once. • Anus and pudenda in simultaneous action.

[For continuity of the narrative about Sarah F**z*r, the following little incident was omitted from its proper place. — It occurred about a year before Sarah disappeared. The date on the manuscript proves that. I don’t think I ever told Sarah of it.]

I was going along Coventry St. on a muddy evening, and saw a lovely air of feet and ankles supporting a well grown body — it was a liberal display of leg in silk — looking at the female as I passed, she winked in the lustful whorish way which a woman does when thoroughly lewed at the moment, and looks at a man irv-itingly. It is my theory that she communicates at once some lewedness to him. — I don’t mean the lewed look of a woman who incites you only to get money, but when she’s really randy and wants a male, wants to be fucked badly. — This woman did so, and at once I reciprocated her lust. She followed me up a side street. — “You’ve a fine leg,” said I beginning. — With strong Irish brogue which I can’t imitate in writing, nor indeed any way, she said, “Sure and there isn’t a foiner in all the town, won’t your cock stand for shure if you see a little higher,” and she pulled up her clothes to her knees in the dark street. — I can’t bear Irish women, having found them liars and thieves, and did not like her manner. — “Corn long.” “No, I’m poor and can’t to night, but here is a glass of wine for you.” “Och! to the Divil with the cash— shure and we won’t quarrel about that — corn —shure an I loike the looks of you — I’m close by — come.” I followed her and she went at such a pace, as if either the police were after her, or that she was frightened of shitting herself. We entered a house and a comfortable room with a good fire. — A large trunk was on the floor. — Said she, “Shure and I’ve not been here an hour and not unpacked — I’ve been a week coming from Dublin — It’s God’s truth, may I go to the biggest hell if I’ve been fucked for a week.” — All this rapidly in answer to my questions, and some without my questions. — Then she pulled out my prick. — “It’s not stiff — wait a second and it’ll be stiff enough, damned if I don’t feel as if I’d forgotten what a man is,” and in a violent hurry, she tore off her things till she was start-naked, boots and stockings excepted, apostrophizing her parts from time to time.

— “There’s a pair of thighs — haven’t I a foine shape— not a foiner by Jasus, and there, feel my bubbs — look at my small waist — and with such a large rump.”

— By that time she was naked whilst I had only taken my hat off. — Then she grabbed at my prick again (she had pulled it out), then threw herself at the edge of the bed, and opening her thighs, “Put it up me darling bhoy, fuck me chunt — look at the hair on it, it’s foine shure, ah! I envy the pleasure yer prick will have in it me bhoy — fuck —corn on —fuck.” — The slut was hot cunted. — boiling with lust — in full rut unmistakably.

I didn’t like her manner, speech, or colour, but altho shortish, a more superb form, more lovely white flesh, never was offered to my embraces — I put my prick at once into her glowing cunt, and directly it was well lodged in its folds, she burst out into such a torrent of baudy words, such obscenity, such ribald screeching, as I never heard before or since from a woman in copulation; tho I have known some gay ladies, when their pleasure was on, pretty frank about it, and have taught a few who were not gay to be warm in their exclamations of pleasure. Of late years I interlard my endearments with lewed words and wishes, it adds much to my enjoyment mentally, for fucking is the sublimest mental as well as physical pleasure. “Aha,” she began, “aha — oho — fuck it well — begorra your prick’s red hot — it’s big. — Ahaa — sure me chunt’s hot as hell — fuck — fuck hard — piss out your boiling spunk into my bloody chunt — sure that will cool me chunt. — Aha God! aha fuck hard yer bugger. —Aha, Holy Virgin my bloody spendings are coming. — Aha — a lovely prick — stiff — push it hard up me chunt — fuck — split me hot chunt into me randy arse-hole. — Fuck em both — ahar — fuck — fuck — now

— now. — Aha, I’m coming — spend — spunk — fuck cunt — ballocks. — Aha — arseholes — ahra — my spunks — ahaa — ahaa.” She was silent, her thighs quiet. She’d spent ere I had half fucked her, for her fierce baudiness and outrageous obscenity at first seemed to stop my pleasure. It made me think for the instant that she was mad.

I went on thrusting, my lust getting stronger as her lewed words wrought clouds of meretricious images in my brain, when after a short silence, with a sudden effort she uncunted me, and struggling up pushed me away saying. — “Sure and I just wanted a fuck — I hope I’ll die a fucking.” — Is she mad or drunk I thought? — But excepting for her excitability, libidinosity, and blasphemous obscenity, she seemed sober enough. She smiled as angrily I cried, “Lie down and let me finish,” shut her eyes without answering, and seemed to be feeling her clitoris, sitting at the edge of the bed where I stood swearing, my prick standing stiff in front of me.

“Let me finish fucking, what the Devil are you about,” and I -clutched her as she rose from the bed, but she escaped me. My passion was roused well by the probing I’d had in her cunt. — “Wait a bit me bhoy, thin and shure I’ll be after spending agin, by the Holy Mother you’re a lovely fucker, you’ve learned a bit in your time, many’s the chunts you’ve cooled begorra. — No — No — wait a bit and I’ll be spending agin with yer.” “Humbug you didn’t spend, you lie.” “Didn’t I spend? shure and I did, it’s God’s truth — look.” On the side of the bed she laid down and opened her thighs wide. — “There me bhoy —I’d just have drowned yer prick in me chunt, if ye’d kept it in a minit longer.” –Her cunt was wet enough, it had wetted my piercer and my balls before she’d ejected it, and plenty of pearly moisture was just inside, to run out as she separated her cunt lips to show me. Suddenly down went her legs, she walked quickly about the room, gave her box a kick, and with both hands slapped her buttocks several times loudly. —”Darn it, lay down and let me fuck you, you bitch,” I cried in a rage. — She laughed and continued slapping her backside.

In a minute or so, she laid hold of my prick which had a little drooped. — “It’s a fine hot poker, sure and it is —corn on then,” and she laid down on the bed side again. — I inserted my pego, which stiffened up as its tip touched her lubricated cunt —I drove it up hard, and soon her baudy words recommenced. — “Aha — that’s it — aha — my arse and chunt are all in one shure — split them with your pego. — Aha. Shove your bloody prick up into my womb — Aha — what a lovely peg — Aha — your spunk a comin — don’t — stop — wait for me I’ll spend — Aha — fuck, fuck — aha — God if ye’d two pricks ye’d have one in my chunt and one up my arse hole wouldn’t ye? — Aha, my bloody hot sphunks comin. — Ahar spunk — spend in my bloody chunt. Ah Jasus — fuck me — now — ahaa — ahaa — prick — ballocks — bugger — aha — aa.” I cannot imitate her manner or brogue, it is impossible; nor give accurately her extraordinary quaint, baudy, and blasphemous expressions — I never heard such issure from the mouth of a harlot, but have between some drunken Irish women slanging each other in St. Giles, and also in the lowest quarters of Liverpool.

Tho I disliked her lewed imprecations they now stirred my lust extraordinarily. She kept me up to her as I leant over her, gently working her quim and buttocks. “Kiss me love — don’t pull it out — there shure and I’ll stiffen it again in me chunt, if your ballocks are close up to me. — Can’t you fuck just —haven’t I spent? the spunks squeezing out. — Begorra ye’ve spent thick, and lots, and hot, ye spalpeen. — Don’t pull it out me darlin — kiss me — you’ve not kissed me, look what foine teeth I have. — Shove your tongue into my mouth. — Oh keep your prick up me hot chunt — put your finger up my arsehole when you fuck again.” “No.” “Whoy, whoy won’t you? (as I refused) Don’t then me darlin. — Don’t you never do so when yer fucking? Oh ye spalpeen ye do — I love it, love both me holes full — chunt and arse hole. — There now it’s out — whoy didn’t ye keep it up me hot chunt.” — Thus she went on as nearly as written without stopping, all being said, and acted with surprizing energy whilst still she was holding me tightly to her, as I bent over her standing at the side of the bed, without uttering more than a word or two in reply to her, and, standing wondering, amused and almost silent.

It slipped out, the copulation was broken. “Taken off your clothes and come on to the bed and lie down wid me, and we’ll fuck agin ye spalpeen in foive minutes — we will, be Jasus. Look at me chunt — look at your spunk — it’s wet — it is — ain’t your spunk thick,” said she examining her finger after a feel. — I didn’t like that, yet she had made me lewed. She had accompanied words with deeds, and as quickly as she had spoken, she had turned herself in all attitudes — on to her belly, then buttocks, had opened her thighs, threw her legs quite high up in the air, and other antics just as before, showed me her armpits and teeth, and pulled the cunt wide open to show’ the libation over-flowing from it — all unasked by me; and interlarding her acts, with expressions of strong desire for me.

I now fully excited, stood puffing off my clothes rapidly, and dropping them on the floor by the side of me, silent, unable to resist the fascination of her carnalities and take my eyes off of her. — “Oh look at your spunk in my chunt” said she again. — “Shure and I’m longing for more of it — many a chunt you’ve filled I’ll swear — ain’t my breasts beautiful? you shall spend between them some day. — Make haste me darlin — if you don’t I’ll frig me — I will by Jasus, I’m mad to have it up me agin —come.” Then we got on to the bed.

I covered her, I rubbed my tool outside in the over-flowing sperm, and was in a few minutes spending with her, with my tongue in her mouth and trying to perforate her bum hole with my finger. After she had shouted out, “Fill my chunt — fuck it — ballocks it well — bugger. — Now. — Shove harder. — I’m spending — ahrr — arsehole.” — “Dams and bloodies” in endless combinations she cried, and it had such an effect on me, that I cried out baudy words with her. Never in my life have I heard such a woman. The words from her struck me as abominably foul and obscene, tho some of the words have not, when sweeter, loving women have murmured them with me in our sensual paroxysms and yet the Irish bitch excited me. This fuck quieted her — seemed to subdue her — I still laid on her, she still sucking my tongue, or wetting her lips with her spittle, rubbing them on mine, holding my head with one hand, pressing it towards hers, and rubbing her other rapidly, quite rapidly up and down my back and buttocks, as far as her hand would reach; as if she couldn’t feel enough of me. — “By me soul and you fuck beautiful — beautiful be Jasus,” said she at last. “Sure an we’ll do it agin, — a rale man and yoh are shure. Do you loike me? — your hair’s sticking to me chunt.” — Smack squash — and moving her cunt a little back, our mottes unjoined, and the glutinous exudations which adhered to our fleshy prominences where they had met so closely made that expressive noise as our genitals partly separated, as she moved her belly when my prick was dwindling out of her split.

Her quick movements, and the fanciful but foul things she said, had so heated me, so libidinously excited me, that I scarcely knew what I was about. “Yes,” I re-plied, “let’s look at your cunt.” — I had scarcely seen it in my emotion. — “Look my bhoy” — I rose on my knees, she relinquishing my rump, and I looked. “Your hair’s the same color as on your head.” “Yes, and are my armpits.” — She threw up her arms. — “Don’t you like the colour?” — I said — “yes” — but I didn’t. — It was a peculiar, sandy red color. — I never before saw an Irish woman with that coloured hair, and told her that most Irish had dark hair. “Shure I’m true emerald.” She was, as said, very beautifully formed, and had marvellously white flesh. — I threw up her legs, and saw from her heels to her buttocks. — “I’m beautiful made shure and I am, arnt I?” said she, putting her hands round her thighs to keep her legs up. I looked and gloated. There was her cunt almost foaming with pearly mucilage. — “Lie down me darlin,” — and I did. — She laid hold of my prick and frigged it. — “Oh put it in me — do then.” — I’ll just take a dale of it tonight — I’m wild just. — A bhoy like you will just make her happy — whoy — I’ve not slept for two nights, I’ve left one of my boxes at Birmingham —I ran away —I’d no money — I would not stay to be ill thraited — but the first money I get I’ll be after it — I pawned me watch to pay my week’s lodgings here this very day, sure and I hadn’t enough money to pay me cabman. Pay down the first week says the landlady, or it’s no good yer laving your box here. — Wait a minute, ma’am, where’s a pawn-broker’s? and me and me box and the carman went to pawn me watch.”

“You’ve been drinking,” I said, thinking at last it must be so. — Not she. “By the Holy Mother. — Divil a drap — you’re a queer chap, don’t you loike me? — now you don’t loike me — I’ll wash my chunt and you’ll like it better.” She was twiddling my cock then, but left off, jumped off the bed like lightning, and began washing — I washed my appendages also, and was going to dress. “Shure and yer not going to lave me yet, shure and you shan’t till ye’ve don it agin.” “I can’t again,” said I — She gave me a rapid push, which sent me on to a chair with such force was it given, and kneeling down began to suck my prick. — “Sure and I’ll make it stiff in a jiffey. What a lovely prick, and my first in London — Oh Jesus may it bring me luck — and I haven’t had a fuck for a week. By the Holy Virgin I’ll have another fuck.” Sucking hard, and jerking out these sentences at short intervals with much intensity, and with that and her baudy talk, she in time made me stiff, put it into her cunt herself impatiently, and I gave her another libation. She rattled out the same lascivious cries but less energetically, and I noticed that tho she talked lewedly when we were not in action, that her most outrageous, unrestrained exclamations, were only uttered when she was fucking.

She began again telling her history of running away from Dublin. — “I’d been murdered shure had I staid, it’s God’s truth I tell ye, and I pawned me watch to pay the lodgings here and me cab.” — Then she wanted to treat me to whiskey and water. — What would I have. — Then she mounted me as I lay tired on my back, kissing me, and rubbing her cunt on to my flabby cock, I could not stop her. — She talked the foulest baudiness, and said her poorliness was just coming on. — Wasn’t it unlucky, just as she’d come so poor and wanted to get some friends. — She loved a man about her. “Sure God,” she did, but hadn’t had one for a week, she’d had enough to do to dodge them and get away. “Hide and seek and fucking don’t go together.” But she was safe now she was in London — I got now curious and tried to learn something more, but she shut up at once. — In her lewed excitement it was pleasure to gabble on and let out a bit of her story, but the fear of being detected, of telling too much, shut her mouth. — I thought, and had no doubt, she’d run away from Ireland to get clear of some scrape.

I couldn’t get away from the woman, she sent for whiskey and I drank with her. She frigged and sucked me stiff again, and I fucked her spite of myself — listening — disliking — yet excited. — When fucked out I left. — “Another kiss,” said she following me to the door of her room, and pushing her tongue in my mouth. “Feel my cunt again for luck.” — I did, promising at her earnest entreaty to see her again. “Never mind the cash me darlin — I loike your fucking — sure and yell bring me luck,” said she as we parted.

I set myself afterwards to repeat what the woman shrieked out in her sexual ecstasy, for she was thoroughly enjoying me, and the sayings and baudy utterances rang in my ears — I did not like them, but kept repeating them to myself, laughing at them even — I went with another woman a day or two after, and as my pleasure increased when my body was joined to hers, I shouted out some of the salacities — it stimulated me. — “Oh ain’t you a going on,” said she. — “Say fuck, ballocks.” — “I shan’t” — then —”oh don’t make such a noise, or they will hear you up stairs.” — But I would. — That giving way to lascivious utterances helped my fatigued ballocks very much. — I’d been with some woman who was out and out baudy, I told this to this woman. I had no reason for hiding it, and told her all. — “A dirty beast,” said she. — Some women are naturally baudy and lewed in talk, others are not. — As among harlots so among ladies. I have known some whom I never could induce to use words frankly — others soon revelled in them.

I saw the Irish woman once or twice in Coventry Street afterwards, but got out of her way. — She always pulled her petticoats up as high as she dared to show her lovely limbs and walked very rapidly. Tho I did not like her, for all that I went home with her once again. She kissed me in the street when I spoke to her, and talked so loudly, that passers-by stared at us — so calling her a fool, I turned away and went up a side street. — She came to me and then I followed her home. — There she again baudied and shrieked out when fucking, the most original salacities and obscenities, and spent with me, and then frigged me up and sucked me to her heart’s content; telling me how had got on, and what a man did to her, and what he had given her, how she meant still to get her trunk from Birmingham. She hadn’t yet. — Altogether she went on almost like an erotic maniac and I was glad when I got away.

I saw her once or twice in the streets afterwards, but she did not see me; then I lost sight of her. I don’t think that altogether she was about the West End a month — I must have seen her had she been about longer. I have never met such a foul tongued woman in my life before, she must have been bred and born amongst the lowest. — I haven’t told a tenth part of her original erotic sayings, and combinations of baudiness and blasphemy. It seemed to me that when her sensual pleasure came on, that she scarcely knew what she said; that every baudy and blasphemous word she’d ever heard, came truggling up together to describe and emphasize the pleasure she felt in her cunt. — I told her of it. — She said it was my fault, and that she didn’t cry out so with other men, it was the intense pleasure I gave. “I’ll swallow your spunk and drink your piss if you like,” said she. I didn’t believe a word she said.

[Once since, at a French brothel, I found an Irish woman, who certainly was more highly obscene than her sisters there. One French woman said she was the greatest “Cochonne” in the house, and all the women were afraid of her. [The disappearance of Sarah was a great loss to me as I recollect well. She was a quiet woman and hand-some, her form good, her cunt gave me the fullest and most complete pleasure, she indulged my lewedness, and when intimacy was established took herself the greatest pleasure in lascivities with me. — She pro-cured me virgins whom she delighted in fingering, and with two of them in flatfucking, and a man who jointly amused us. In occasional orgies at brothels, she several times got me other free and easy harlots, but about which orgies I have destroyed the manuscript, as I did with the women only what I have done with others. — Her lodgings I could mostly go to, and believe I was the only man who did, and I missed the means of indulging my tastes in those quiet rooms with a willing ministress to them. — Moreover she was not always plaguing me for money — asking me to pay this, or to lend her to pay that — which is the common habit and tricks of harlots from high to low — I felt at sea when Sarah was gone, and recollect that for a month or so I was chaste.]

Then I sought Camille — I had seen her thrice only I find whilst I had known Sarah F**z*r, and had some difficulty in finding her out. — She was not so young, but was splendidly preserved. Tho fatter, her soft skin, soft voice and quiet laugh, in brief all her good qualities were unchanged, and I rushed my eager pego into her still delicious cunt, and clasped her exquisitely soft backside with the delight of former days. She had been away from England two years or so, having saved money, with which in her native country she had either bought or set up a licensed house for whoring. It had not succeeded, she had lost all, and had come back here to harlotry. — She cried as she told me about her losses, then began to smoke a cigarette (formerly she did not smoke). She smiled and said it was fate, that there was always water or charcoal to be had when she was old or tired of life. She was seemingly not so well off as formerly, but said she had a good clientelle mostly of married men who paid well, and didn’t stop long. She did not go into the street much, or her friends expected always to find her at home. I spent two or three hours delightfully with her talking over old times. — It was no use disguising her age from me, and one other Monsieur who also knew her when she first came to London, the only two, she said; but she took off a few years to new friends when they asked her age. She now spoke excellent English. [Fifteen years later she was alive, and as nice as ever in manner — but she was old and poor, and very often I assisted her.]

Much as I liked, I didn’t keep to Camille. I went there when I wanted a quiet chat and information about sexualities (not that I wanted much of that). I find a memorandum of a talk with her, about the effect that continued buggering had upon the arseholes of the buggerees. She thought it detrimental to them ultimately, and had heard so, but the men were reticent on the subject. — About tastes for that abnormal amusement — that there were decidedly those men who enjoyed being operated on — catamites by taste, by nature perhaps; she thought owing to some anatomical difference, or sexual infirmity.

One evening being unusually communicative, she told that she had a friend who came to her rooms at times and she procured a man to bugger him. When he had that operation performed, his prick would stand, and he could fuck her and spend. — Nothing else that could be done had that effect; masturbation, suction, flagellation all were useless. — Altho sometimes he shagged Camille after the irritation of his fundament had produced an erection, he preferred being frigged whilst the other man was coupled with him. — It was vilaine, cochonnerie la plus sale,” she said. — Mais que voulez vous.” — “He pay me sometime five — ten pounds sometime. — When I came back to England, he buy me half my furniture. — He send Bordeaux, I can-not such buy—you shall taste. He is good for me and I do what he likes.” — Then she fetched a bottle of splendid Chateau Margaux which he had given her. She had a case of it. — Camille never drank spirits, and didn’t care so much about champagne. I used to take her Claret at times, it was what she habitually drank at her meals.

Then I told her what I had done with the man. She would not at first believe it. — “Fi donc — pas vrai — un beau garcon comme vous.” — But she added, “It was curiosity, it is not your taste — bien sur — yet why not if you like — it is for you and him to decide, it concern no one else.”

Then I asked her to get me a youngish virgin. —No it was not possible, but a very nice young woman she would try to find. Sixteen and not more than seventeen was named by me as the limit of age. — Aha! I was like the rest she observed, she dare say she could find such. — “Mind Camille — I can tell nearly her age by the quantity of hair on her cunt, by its look, and by the look and feel of her breasts. — No deceit,” and I left her laughing. — “Ah polisson, I shall try.” Soon afterwards she told me she should soon have the girl I liked, a young Belgian expected to arrive daily. She had been seduced, was a governess, and could no longer stop in her town. She had never been gay, but was coming to London to try her fortune at fucking. She was in fact brought here by a procuress as Camille admitted.

Anticipation made me restless. I called every day to enquire, and at length had the neophyte in whoring. — She was dressed in black silk, handsome but quiet, and rose like a lady when Camille introduced her — I hadn’t believed about her being a governess nor the other ac-counts of her, thinking it was only said to enhance the price, for I had agreed to pay more than the usual fee for the freshness of the article; but found that she closely answered the description given of her. — Camille helped her to undress, and Lolotte (the name she went by) had black silk stockings on, and bright gold garters, three quarters of an inch broad; she had dressed or had been dressed tho quite quietly, yet on the road to her cunt dressed so as to stimulate male salacity.

I think now with delight still, of my voluptuous feelings as I got my hand between her partially closed thighs, felt the slight thicket of her hairy motte, and gently running my fingers over her clitoris slipped them down to the mouth of the temple of love, whilst she sat passively tho seemingly upset a little, involuntarily closing her thighs and trying to stop my hand, whilst Camille looked on smiling.

“Lay hold of my prick,” said I in English forgetting that she could not speak a word of my language. Camille laughed and repeated it in French. Gently she put her hand down and grasped it. — Kissing her, holding her round the waist, her hand on my prick, my hand on cunt I pulled her back anglewise on the sofa on which we were sitting, and gluing my lips to hers I burrowed my fingers up her tight little cunt. Thus we reclined in voluptuous silence, she holding my tool, I gently frigging her. — Releasing her, “Let me see you quite naked.” She refused. — But at once I pulled her chemise off roughly, and there she stood in her nudity, and a sweet nakedness it was.

She was well grown, beautifully formed, but thinnish, sylph-like; and had solid pretty breasts tho each was but a handful. From the small quantity of crisp curly hair on her cunt, the little lips, and its general look, I guess was the age she said, not quite seventeen, and she’d been fucked for the first time, not quite a year. — Her hair was very dark brown, nearly but not quite black, her eyes dark hazel. Her face was however decidedly plain tho pleasing. The sight, and the rapturous feel of her naked

charms, in a minute made me ramp-ant with desire, I threw off my shirt and jersey, and pressed my naked body to hers, my stiffened prick was squeezed between our bellies as I clasped her to me, and Camille laughed aloud as I drew the girl into the bedroom. She mounted the bed at my request with hesitation and without speaking. I got on to her, titillated her cunt for a minute, then my prick throbbing and nodding, impatient for its enjoyment, urged me to put it into her pretty, pouting, sexual treasure. At the first thrust her whole body thrilled deliciously with pleasure. — What a charm it is to feel that a woman enjoys the prick. Soon our sighs and murmurs mingled, and her cunt was filled for the first time with an Englishman’s sperm. Camille entered the bedroom as we were lying tranquilly in each other’s arms, squeezing our genitals together, enjoying the mucilaginous bath of sperm in her cunt, whilst our lips and tongues played together, and mingled our salivas. “Elle est charmante, is she not?” said she. — “Leave us alone, Camille.” She seemed in my way then. Away she went laughing. — “Ah polisson — c’est un beau garcon, n’est ce pas, Lolotte?”

Then was the delight of inspecting, investigating with eye and finger, that pretty, red faced gap, now almost hidden by my libation, but I liked its lubricious feel. — Then she washed it, and then I had my first good look at the odoriferous parting. Its aroma was delicious and prick stimulating — it was what I have told, the smell and look roused my prick at once, again we embraced, and both spent ecstatically. Her cunt seemed to fit my prick to perfection, her enjoyment seemed quietly in-tense. She’d only arrived that morning from Ostend, the journey, change, and excitement had perhaps stirred her lust, journeys do; but there was another cause; she had not been fucked for three months, her lover having been sent abroad she said. I saw no reason to doubt this, tho it may not have been true, but certainly she was dying for a fuck; and after our ablutions, and we laid cosily side by side on the bed again, the feel of my cunt stretcher was I’m sure as great a treat to her, as the feel of her tight little cock easer was to me. I fucked her four times, and always she poured out her salt pearly juices, to mix with my glutinous libation in her pretty cunt. She was delicious.

In our talk during the intervals of action on a subsequent day, and when we had a little champagne together, she told me that excepting on the night when she lost her virginity, she’d never been fucked more than once in any day. She and her lover had no chance, they could only copulate in the house or grounds. She was nearly always with the children, and all their poking was done quickly and on the sly. — How like it was to the frolics in my extreme youth, when I had difficulty in getting a clear five minutes, and used to shag our servants everywhere; garden, summer house, water-closet, in the hall, and on the staircase, in every imaginable out of the way place and time. — How hurriedly we fucked too, the pleasure hastened and diminished by fear of its being stopped. — Her love making was done under similar difficulties, indeed greater.

Lolotte I found had nice ladylike manners, and to have had that (which out of a thousand Cyprians whom I have stroked I have rarely found) a good education. —Her hand writing was beautiful. I quite believe she was a governess. The son of her employer, a young man about twenty years old first stroked her, it’s too long here to tell how. She got enceinte, delayed it too long, then in trying to bring on her courses made her-self very ill, which led to the discovery. — Her tale seemed coherent and probable enough, for such things occur daily. — Certainly she was no gay woman on the night I first had her. A dozen indications proved that to an old experienced roué like me. Camille said so, tho she knew only I suppose what the procuress told her.

I took a huge fancy to Lolotte. There was some quality in her cunt which made my animal enjoyment in her excessive. — Those who say that all women are the same in the dark, are utterly ignorant or deficient in sensibility. — Some women’s cunts are exquisite to me, and some are not. — Once a cunt has given me that exquisitely voluptuous, complete delight, it always does so; just as a cunt which gives me but mediocre pleasure, which seems at my first fuck deficient somehow or somewhere, and is wanting undefinably in fitness to my penis, it always remains the same, whether I fuck it burning with passion, and with ballocks boiling over with sperm, or whether with the greater deliberation, which but slight sexual desire at the moment enables me to exercise. — Poke, probe, push, wriggle, rest it, or insinuate my prick into Lolotte’s cunt any-where, or anyhow, it always seemed to fit my sensitive pego, and so I lusted for her much, but alas was unable for reasons then existing to see her very often. — Her pleasures were so complete and affected me so, that when fucking others, I generally thought of Lolotte’s cunt, even for a long period after I lost her.

Camille would not tell me where to find Lolotte. “I’ll always get her for you.” Neither would Lolotte tell me where I could find her. I never saw her in Paphian haunts, nor among the foreign colony of Paphians, [of whom there are now thirty for every one who was in London when I had my first French woman. (Camille)]. At intervals therefore I had her at Camille’s rooms, for about three months. She soon learnt the libidinous manners of her calling. — I noticed the gradual change from her modest ways, from her frank lust in meeting my ardors, to Paphian professional modes of exciting me. — She no doubt was well instructed, but nature was also her instructress, for she was a warm, hot cunted, vigorous, juicy one. — She liked the male pendant, and certainly she always and to the last, spent with me. As my glowing prick buried itself in the innermost recesses of her moist, aromatic gap, and when it squirted the hot sperm into her, the way she clasped me to her, and murmured softly her pleasure, and her cunt flushed out its salt juices, and when the violent paroxysms were passed and the pleasure subsiding, the way she clasped me still, and nestled her pretty cunt up to my belly, enjoying the cram and gorge of my still thick prick, and the sperm as it lay balmy within her till the latest moment, was most exquisitely voluptuous, and showed her sexual lust, and, I really think, her liking for my embraces.

Then occurred a most libidinous incident with a red haired French woman, now to be narrated. It had effect of making me wish Lolotte to do the same to me. I had hitherto simply fucked her in one or two attitudes. I called on Camille with the letch on me. — She told me she thought that the girl had left the country, however she got her for me that very evening. My letch was strong on me. — “Faites la minette, gamahuche me, suck my prick,” said I, using all three terms to ensure my being understood. “Ah my God no.” — “Yes,” she had been asked, but —“jamais, jamais” — it ended by soft devices, by Camille’s exhortations [as similar refusals since have with others], in her kneeling over me, with her genteel little backside, and pretty pink lipped, curly haired split, within six inches of my eyes, whilst her mouth gently took first the tip, and then all my prick into it. And then the aroma of her cunt and its surroundings excited me. — I smelt, I kissed it, inserted my finger, and then with my tongue played over the surface of the lips. Then my tongue plunged through the delicate red split, and then up the avenue. — At that last voluptuous moment, when the desire to have fingers, tongue, prick, all of my body in the woman, to join my body in its entirety to hers, to incorporate my body and soul with hers by her cunt, it was invincible. Then she ceased her lingual exercise, whilst my tongue reaching further forward sought her clitoris, playing rapidly on it, till a gentle oscillation, and quivering of her backside told of her discharge. The next instant my libation entered her pretty mouth, and both were satisfied.

The next time I asked Camille to get Lolotte for me, she could not. — A rich Belgian had taken her away and would marry her. Camille had thought she would never be gay long, and I was fortunate to have had her. — How true this was I don’t know, but Camille all my life I found to be reliable, which is rare in a courtezan. I never saw or heard of the Belgian Lolotte afterwards.

[A paragraph of my original manuscript, without abbreviation or correction, and just as it was then written is retained here. — It is a clue to my mental condition at that date, and a good introduction to the episode which follows. — An explanation of my tastes.]

My tastes seem for some time past to have been much changed, to be gradually inclining to abnormal pleasures. — Have I seen and done enough with — am I getting tired of common place sensualities — am I on the road to a sensual abyss? — Lustful suggestions come to me more frequently from strumpets, or so it seems to me. —Do they, or do I — take more heed of them than formerly? Pleasures which in my youth I doubted as possible, the whisper of which passed by me like the idle wind, others which I did not like even to hear of, I now think about. The tongue and the mouth more frequently minister to my sensuous joys. — Do I really like that or not? My imagination well exercised in sexual pleasures, now suggests strange forms of fornication. — I find women willing to gratify them, nay more — have evident delight with myself in doing so, when I have suggested them. Whether those fancies are indulged in with other men, or others of their own sex, and this is not for lucre only, it evidently is to gratify themselves as well as me that they do them.

My lasciviousness has increased by practice and women are similarly influenced. — Is it during the last few years, years which I vowed to consecrate to fidelity, that I have thus changed, or have these tastes been growing on me since puberty? A voluptuous offer from a fair woman, I feel now that I can scarcely resist. — Where will this end, in good or evil?

My knowledge of male and female in sexual matters, in their procreative instincts and sexual vagaries, how large is seems. — Yet there still seems a field of pleasure, of enquiry yet unexplored before me. Shall I yield and gratify it? My former hesitations seem nearly gone, boldly and without hesitation, I now ask women for the satisfaction of letches, letches relatively abnormal. — Perhaps all beyond plain belly to belly copulation may be called abnormal sexual pleasures. Much that is done every hour, every minute by male with female is abnormal. But to what does this lead? — What will be the outcome to this wider range of erotic desires. — Good or evil? — Shall I struggle against it or yield? —Have I not struggled before, struggled against my philosophy, and with what result? — my narrative answers me.

Going along R*g**t St. one night a French woman accosted me. — She would give me such pleasure she promised, pattering on, and walking by my side when she found I did not refuse her advances. She answered my lewed questions readily, as I put them out of sheer fun and curiosity, for I had no intention at the moment of accompanying her. — Yes, give me pleasure such as I had never tasted, — any I liked. —She had nice rooms, — warm, baudy pictures and books. — “Ah oui, vous pouvez m’enculer,” if it were my taste and would pay, or she would get me a youth, a boy — “Un beau garcon — charmant — sixteen years old no more.” — He would bugger me if I liked, for his prick was nice and small — yes, she had seen it, for he had buggered a friend of hers in her lodgings, she had seen him do it, so she knew all about him. Amused with her, pleased with her small soft voice which reminded me of Camille’s, a voice so different from the harsh raw voices of most French Paphians, that having an hour or two to spare, I went out of curiosity only to the apartments of the woman.

She had nice rooms, and a selection of thoroughly good, coloured, cock rousing lithographs of fornication. Soon I had looked thro them and sat looking at her un-dressing, for she was the better worth looking at. — She undressed with great deliberation, talking about masturbation, gamahuching, fucking and sodomy, in as quiet a way as if talking about her dress. In these particulars she reminded me of Camille. She said she was twenty-eight. I am sure she was at least thirty-five, was a well known woman, fleshy, solid, smooth, but square built, and not graceful. In flesh white as snow, with two huge firm hemispheres on her chest. Her hair was dark red (a colour I dislike) her backside big, marbly, and white; her motte and cunt, covered with a thick mass of hair of a darker red. Strange to say it was this very colour, which now I think of it, somehow added to the reasons of my going home with her. It was curiosity — a change. She had silk stockings and boots fitting her to perfection of course. French gay ladies have them, even if they are almost starving. They know the effect of a nice appearance in those extremities which lead up to the cunt.

I turned her about naked, opened her cunt, placed her big white buttocks towards me, saw thick hair round her arsehole, and its true brown tint on the fur-row. Then I told her I knew she was older than she said. She laughed heartily when I mentioned the various indications of her age. What was I going to do? — Was she in a hurry? “Ah no.” “Gamahuche me — suck my prick, and let me spend in your mouth.” “Oh certainly.” — She had stripped to her skin I may add without having been asked. She knew she was worth looking at.

I partly took my clothes off. — “Ah no, take them all off like me, pleasure should always be taken properly.” — So I stripped to my shirt. — “Non — non — naked like me.” — So I stripped entirely. It was a hot night. — Then she sponged round my cock, its tip, and my balls, and anus, most carefully. “Do you like your trou de cul licked?” — “Yes,” I replied, tho I didn’t recollect the sensation, nor even if it has been ever done to me, tho I think it has. — “I will do it so nicely you shall feel,” said she. — Then she washed her cunt. — “Do you like washing a woman’s cunt?” “Some- times.” “Wash mine,” said she as if she liked the idea of that. — So I soaped and rubbed it. —When dry, she lighted some more candles, arranged a large cheval glass at the proper angle (she knew exactly where to put it). Then getting on to the bed. — “Voila,” said she. — All was done without hurry scurry, it was a tranquil, refined preparation for lascivities.

Tho delighted with the movements of the white fleshed woman, my cock was not stiff. I was amused, a voluptuous feeling stole over me, the sort of feeling I sometimes experience an hour or two after one or two fucks — a feeling as if I needed rest, tho still lewedly inclined — the languid, creeping, half satisfied randiness one has, when laying by the side of a sweet woman whom I have fucked an hour before, and in whose cunt the spunk is still lying. — She took my prick and balls with an easy grasp in an unusually big hand, but it was plump, very smooth, and white. My cock began gently to swell as her hand slipped down under my balls, and I felt her finger pressing my bum hole with a soft, twiddling, insinuating pressure. — Then she closed my legs, and kneeling over me and sitting backwards on her heels, she took my prick and rubbed it gently against her clitoris, which stood well out from her cunt lips now opened by her attitude. — Then she laid entirely over me, taking off her weight with her hands, and gently rubbed her whole body over mine; her breast rubbed my nipples, her belly lightly glided over mine, the hair of her motte tickled my prick. — It was an infinitely delicate, amorous play, quietly exciting. — “Ah,” said she, “Your pillow is not right, put your head there,” and she moved it. — “There now you can see everything in the glass — there.”

I let her do exactly what she liked, without telling her anything. — Then she stood by the bedside, and kissed me all over from head to feet. At length she buried her mouth in the thicket of my motte, and lifting my prick and opening my thighs, kissed, licked my balls and gradually along my prick, but avoiding the tip. The titillation of her tongue roused my dormant lust, and up swelled my pego to a noble fucking size. She smiled, and now taking it in her mouth, delicately licked the tip, and then engulfed it to the very roots. I felt it down her throat, and it totally disappeared. — It was delicious. — Out it soon came flaming, burning and crimson tipped, her saliva running down it and trickling on to my balls. — Then she desisted and let it go, after giving it a gentle squeeze. “Suck me, go on, let me spend, get on me so that I can see your cunt.” “Don’t be in such a hurry for the pleasure,” said she laying down by me, letting me feel her all over but leaving my prick alone. — No, I should not spend yet. — “C’est trop vite, soyez tranquille.”

She talked then about other things so as to distract my attention from my penis, and its lust somewhat subsided. — Then getting off, and bringing me to the side of the bed, with legs hanging on to the floor, she told me to hold my legs up high. I obeyed her in every-thing. — I had suggested and asked her for nothing hitherto, excepting to suck me, to gamahuche me. When my thighs were up in the air, she gently pulled aside my bum cheeks, and began licking my anus. Every now and then she left off, gave just the tip of my prick a little delicate suck, and then went back to my anus. Her tongue seemed to enter it, a tickling sensation and a voluptuous pleasure spread right up my fundament, and there was a baudy sensation up it which got mixed with the lewedness which came from my prick and my balls. — Again she began gamahuching whilst I lay speechless, tranquilly enjoying the voluptuous treat. — “Aha — what are you doing? Aha.” A new sensation came over me, I felt my anus opening and stretching under a gentle twiddling pressure, her middle finger was up my fundament, and she was gently buggering with it whilst gamahuching me. I trembled now with lewed sensations, I could only see her head at the bottom of my belly, gently moving up and down, her backside and ample naked body was reflected in the glass, and so on for a minute.

But I wanted to feel her flesh, that desire to feel the flesh of the other sex, which every male and female has when about to spend, came on me strongly — I cried. —”Aha let me move — let me feel you — let me see your cunt.” She rose from her knees, and standing bent forward still sucking me, but now with her thighs straddling open, and I could see her red haired, full lipped cunt, reflected in the glass. It looked as big as a cow’s but it pleased me. Then still unsatisfied I made her cease, I got lengthwise on the bed, and she changing her position so as to stand sideways, sucked me whilst I felt her buttocks, rubbing my hand over them, and rapidly thrust my fingers between them, on to her cunt, that cunt which filled my fingers with soft flesh and crisp red hair. —”Ahaaa. — I’m spending, fuck, cunt, spunk.” Just as my sperm began to rise, she left off spite of my entreaties, and laid hold of my hands to stop me from finishing my enjoyment by a frig, which involuntarily I attempted. —“No, no, not yet — prolong your pleasure, don’t be in such a hurry.” — She was an artiste, an accomplished artiste in gamahuching.

After a pause she recommenced. This time kneeling over me, her ample white rump and thick lipped, hairy gap, within a few inches of my face. She put two pillows under my bum, to throw it up from the bed and let her suck me more conveniently. —”Ah ma chere, you hurt me,” I cried — but my pain gave way to an agreeable sensation. She had introduced her middle finger which was unusually thick and long, much further up my bum than before, and was poking about gently in my fundament. I felt as if my arse was stretching but without pain — then as if a hot fart was struggling to come out, and mixed with these sensations, a strange thrilling pleasure in the part. A desire to treat her the same rushed thro my brain. I pulled open her buttocks and thrust my fingers up her cunt. — For an instant she ceased gamahuching. “Put your finger up my cu, cher,” said she and resumed her work. God knows whether I did or not, I can’t say, I can’t recollect for I was nearly wild, — I felt certainly all about her, in every place my hand could reach. I was mad to discharge my sperm which she kept me artfully from spending, till nature would retain it no longer, and with a scream of pleasure, out throbbed my hot seminal mucilage, gushing spasmodically into her mouth, and I lay senseless. The towel at hand got rid of the libation, and when I had recovered from the intensity of the spasms of pleasure, she was still gently sucking my tool, giving me a prolonged lingering voluptuousness for some minutes. Then she got up, rinsed her mouth with eau-de-Cologne and water, and said, “Have I not given you pleasure, cher?” — Indeed she had — never did I get before such prolonged, such varied pleasure, as this French artiste in sexualities gave me with finger and mouth, by a single ejaculation of my semen.

The prolongation of my excitement, fatigued me I think as much as a couple of fucks, I was temporarily annihilated. She carefully washed my prick and bum hole again, and sprinkled eau-de-Cologne on me. She held my prick when I pissed, then washed the tip and gave it a gentle mouthing afterwards, and advising me to rest, she laid down by my side, talking all about the pleasures. Then she reversed herself, after getting off to shift the position of the lights on the table, and asked me to look at her private beauties, as if I had not seen them enough — wasn’t her cunt tight for a big woman, hadn’t she a pretty clitoris? “Feel it dear — oh you make me want it when you touch it — frig me cher,” and whilst complying and feeling her all about, every now and then she again took my flabby doodle into her mouth, and gave it a gently suck, and again pierced my bum hole with her finger after wetting it, and I let her do it. Then laying by my side, again she took hold of my fingers to frig herself with them. — Gradually so were my senses excited by her acts and words, that a desire to have her gamahuching me again crept over me, as well as to have my bum hole plugged. — It was only curiosity, but I had a strange feeling there which her finger had left, a lewed irritation there, and I put my finger down to feel if it was open. — “Do you like to be buggered?” said she — I said I never had, and never meant, but, “Yes I liked your finger there.” — I couldn’t help saying that. — “You must pay for a pair of white kid gloves, and I will put it over my finger, and cover it with cold cream, and you shall be so pleased.” — “Not tonight,” said I astonished. — “Ah yes, pourquoi pas, you have much spunk in you yet — look at your preeke, it is bigger — why you not bouggare me with your finger when I feel you — shall me get gloves?” She spoke thus in broken English generally, but sometimes in French.

In voluptuous lassitude, almost against my will I consented. She got from a drawer a new pair of white kid gloves and a pot of cold cream; those things ready, she went thro the preliminaries as before. My prick, balls, and bum hole were licked and tongue tickled all over with much deliberation, and with curious delicacy of tongue, till I grew restless with lust and by backside wriggled. Then putting a lump of grease on my

anus, she put on a glove, covered the middle finger with grease, pushed it slowly up me and took my prick in her mouth. She moved her finger about my fundament, making me feel as before as if I was farting a hot wind. One of her feet was now on the floor, her other upon to the bed by the side of me, and I could as I lay see in the glass the back of her naked body and her movements. Near my chest was her belly, buttocks and her thick lipped, red haired cunt between them. With outstretched hand I felt her cunt from bum hole to clitoris. Slowly she moved her head up and down, conveying a fucking motion and feeling to my pego, pro- longing and intensifying my enjoyment exactly as before, but even more deliberately, till now almost with a scream of lewed words I spent again in her mouth. I had immense enjoyment in her mouth, and paying her (quite satisfied) a double fee, I left her.

I went to see her again soon after, solely, as well as I can analyse my reasons and intentions, to find out whether I really liked my bum hole plugged with her finger or not: for my sensations had been so mixed, so complicated, that I couldn’t make up my mind on the point. I gave her that night champagne, and so she got still warmer to the work. It seemed, and I really believe, that she delighted in the exercise. After my first ejaculation, she got my pego to rise again, and then asked me if I would fuck her. “A nice tight cunt,” she said. — But I did not satisfy her, tho I had verified by my finger that her cunt had the quality she claimed for it.

Then came suggestions. Had I ever done this or that? I had done many things that she suggested. Then she got to acts a little out of the common-recherché lusts. — Had I buggered or been buggered? I might bugger her if I liked, for she liked me, and liked the sensation of a man’s prick up her “cu,” liked her cunt licked or frigged, when her fundament had the pego up it. There was a charming girl who did it to her. — “When you’re being buggered?” said I, “impossible.” — “No it is not impossible, look,” — and she showed what appeared to be a prie-dieu chair, but low backed, large, wide seated, immensely heavy, its back inclining slightly, and most extraordinary in its build. A chair of rough make, and I believe made for the purpose. “It is just the height,” said she kneeling to prove it. I stood up at her back and applied my prick to her bum valley to test
that. — The chair was open in the back, and then to verify her statement, I knelt in front of her, as she was kneeling on the chair with thighs apart in buggeree posture, and found that I could with a little pushing forward of my head, touch her cunt with my lips, I could have licked her clitoris. She decalred that when buggered, her young female friend licked her quim in that way. Would I come again and she would fetch her friend, and then whilst I fucked her friend, she would finger bugger me. — Or her friend should gamahuche her thro the back of the chair, whilst I buggered her, or fucked her, which ever I pleased but she preferred being buggered and licked. — Or a nice garcon with a lovely prick should come to me and I could bugger him — or be buggered by him, or I could suck him. So we talked on, and she raised a number of curious desires in me by these suggestions of variety. I did not tail her as she asked, but had another pair of white gloves and its greased finger up my bum again, refusing a dildo which she now offered for the first time, and again spent in her mouth and quitted her well satisfied.

A week elapsed. What am I coming to? Her manifold, quaintly lascivious suggestions burthened my mind whenever a lewed sensation passed through my brain, whenever a lewed sensation coursed through my pego, and again I sought her. It was mainly to be frigged by a hand covered with white kid gloves, that was now my letch. She kept I found now white gloves in her drawers, no doubt using them thus which was quite her speciality. She at first frigged me with her gloved hand for a time, then greased the entire glove, to let me feel the difference in the friction between the dry and the greased. Really whether greased or not greased, a kid glove hand makes a delectable masturbator. I would not spend that way. When ready to ejaculate bethinking me of her suggestions, and all sorts of baudy desires floating through my brain, “Get the woman who licks you,” I cried, and I thought of fucking my masturbatress from behind whilst her clitoris was licked from before by the satellite.

She feared the woman was not within or might be engaged, but would send. In a quarter of an hour during which I varied our libidinous tricks, she came in. She was a French, dark eyed, dark haired woman, seemingly not more than eighteen or nineteen. — Champagne was to stir our energies, and then we set to work. I saw the young woman’s cunt, and when I was quite stiff, and after both women had had my prick in their mouths, and one had licked my balls whilst the other was licking the tip; to the chair we went. — With thighs wide apart the red haired one knelt on it, and the little dark one kneeling on a pillow in front prepared for minetting. — Her tongue reached the other’s clitoris, and I made her for a second lick it to let me see that it could be done. — “Come bugger me,” said the red haired one, and putting her hand back, she pulled apart her buttocks showing the brown valley, and the aperture of Sodom.

“You won’t! ah yes, you must, I shall spend when you spend in my cu.” — It seemed from her pertinacity in demanding it, as if she really desired it, and was disappointed at my steady refusal. I tried to fuck her from behind, but could not get my prick well into her, her bum was so big; and when she lifted her backside and jutted it out, her friend could not well lick her clitoris, so we ceased trying for the minute.

Then said I (it had been her own suggestion on a previous night), “I’ll dildo your arsehole whilst she licks your cunt.” “Tres bien, but you must then give me another sovereign.” — I agreed. From another drawer came two or three dildoes. Selecting a little one which she greased carefully, and instructing me how to use it, I pressed it through the corrugated aperture, and slowly soon it disappeared up her fundament. I pushed it gently up and down, the little one licked her cunt, the licks sounded and nothing else in our excited silence, till the red haired one wriggled her bum and belly, cried out she was spending, and urged me to move the dildo which in watching the two I had for the moment ceased doing, but had left sticking in her rump. I recommenced, she urged the young one be quicker. “Lick lower” she cried, and with a real or well acted spasm of pleasure, all was over. I removed the dildo from its sheath, she for a minute or two leaned over the chair with eyes closed, and the other went on silently licking the clitoris.

I had not yet spent, had restrained myself, moving about with my pego like a brass rod, but was now al-most spending without hand or cunt to help me, so excited was I by the spectacle. Speaking in French, “Get up, I’ll kiss you,” to the younger one. — On to the bed she sprang and opened her red gap. With a look, a feel, and a sniff at it I mounted her, and in a second my pego was up her black haired cunt. The red haired one with- out delay and unasked, inserted her finger in my rectum, I felt the sphincter stretch, and with libidinous images flashing through my brain, in baudy ecstasy I ejaculated my semen, and died away; the lady’s cunt clipping and spending with me. “Mon Dieu what a lot of spunk,” said she as I got off of her. — I looked and there was. — The red haired one looked admiringly. “My God! a river,” said she.

Within half an hour I was ready again, either one or other of the women had handled my genitals all the time, and I had exhausted the poses I could think of placing them in. Then I put the little one on my prick as I sat on a chair, clasping one breast, and feeling her motte at the same time. The red haired strumpet seemingly pleased, knelt down and licked the clitoris of my fuckstress, whilst with almost imperceptable joggings of her cunt, and heaving of my bum, we fucked. The gentle friction, the deep plugging soon told, and we spent. Then tranquilly sitting on me still, my prick shrinking satisfied from her cunt, whilst I felt her clitoris, and our spermy mixtures running out on to my balls, we rested a while. Red hair sat on the floor naked and silently contemplating us. — Out flopped my doodle, ending our conjunction, and washing genitals all round began.

I’d had a couple of pleasures but was not satisfied, the women had so excited me. — We talked for a time, then I knelt over the head of the red haired one at her request, whilst she laid on her back and gamahuched me and she masturbated herself. She made me stiff and lewed, tho I had not wished that, and did not utilize the erection, having reasons for not fatiguing myself then too much sexually. — When her pleasure was over I laid down, she carefully with sponge and towel washed the grease off my thighs and bum, and I left.

That extraordinary chair keeps recurring to my mind. Its design, weight, size and general ugliness, makes it certain that it must have been made for the special object, which she told me it was used for. Did the woman I wonder travel about with it when she moved, or was it part of the furniture of the house?

I never went near the glove woman again, nor do I recollect seeing her. I had satisfied my curiosity, and did not wish my bum hole opened any more. — But cock’s suction begins more and more to please me. — Several times I have refused to let a pretty mouth finish when proffered that pleasure, not having wished beyond putting it into the mouth of a woman I liked. That truly is a lovely endearment before putting it up the sweet one’s cunt. Is the taste now gradually coming to me? I begin to find it delightful, when I do not stiffen readily, to make women put my tool in their mouths even if not to consummate there. — Suction by a pretty mouth is not such a bad amusement when a man’s fatigued. [Nelly L**l*e a year or two after-wards, often got my second spend that way — her cunt did duty for the first.]

[These eccentric letches appear henceforth to have given me pleasure more in a degree, and more frequently I gave way to cries of lust when in the height of pleasure. Formerly I had been mostly quiet, or only used words of endearment to my lovely partner; of late frantic libidinosity has seized me at times, and more rapidly than words can express them, flash though my brain visions of what I have done — of what I should like to do — and the words of lust as they escape me, add to my pleasure, and to those of some of my partners who join their cries to mine. I incite them to use them.]