VOLUME 4 CHAPTER 20
Catherine at a baudy house. • My anatomical studies. • Catherine’s hymen wanting. • Her explanation. • Servants in bed. • The sham-cock used. • Gamahuched. • Catherine with kid. • A charming widow. • The ball. • The cab home. • Rapid per-suasion. • At J***s Street. • “Don’t rumple my dress.” • Cunt in full dress. • A ginger-coloured motte. • The tipsy coachman. • Catherine, and widow alternately. • The widow enceinte. • Remedies. • Catherine goes home. • The widow marries. • Indiscriminate womanising.
That day I took her to my favourite house. It was about five in the afternoon. I’m sure she had never been in one before from her curiosity. “Undress, and let’s go to bed,” said I. Persuaded at last, and creeping on to the bed in her chemise. “Let’s look at your dear little cunt,” said I, for I was curious about the virginity. I knew how a quim recently broken looked, I had broken many, had studied them, and recently had been abroad, and at an anatomical museum, had seen models of the hymen and of its ragged slit when broken.
She refused. “You’ve been fucked before last Tuesday,” said I. No she never had, — how could I tell? — I was cruel. “Let me see then, — if you don’t I’ll go away, and see you no more.” She didn’t care if I did, — she hadn’t asked me to meet her. But gradually she yielded, and I saw a pretty quim looking as if it had only recently been broken, so jagged was the orifice. I was puzzled, knowing that I had not broken it. Then all but naked, we fucked with all the delight which nakedness and randiness without fear of being discovered, could give a couple. We fucked ourselves out, and left at nine o’clock.
Then came the difficulty in getting at her, which is one of the drawbacks with servants. She could not get out often and was one Sunday out in the morning, the next at night. So we arranged that if the family was out, and the cook were also out, she should put a card up angle-ways in the window, just above a wire-blind (they used in that house to put a card up to give notice to some tradesmen if wanted or not). The ladies usually took their walk at about the same hour daily, the cook disobediently often then went out, and I went in when I saw the card, but it was very risky. I have gone in, fucked her, and been out of the house in ten minutes; and I liked the excitement of the intrigue for a little time, for the change from women who pulled up their clothes, directly I was in the bed-room with them, was pleasant.
I had her against a wall, and against a tree in the Park, and got her on one holiday for some hours in a baudy house. On my hinting that she had had some-thing stiff up her quim, before I put anything there, she denied it. How did I know? — would any man know if a girl was virgin or not? That question she put to me every time, and when I said “yes,” she whimpered. Then she put the question to me in various indirect ways, and was evidently in a great state of anxiety about it. What if a man did not look? —if he had not felt first with his fingers, would he know? Whilst in bed together, and I kissed her, and titillated her quim, I got the grounds for her anxiety out her.
She was engaged to be married, and feared her young man would not be deceived, for she knew she was broken. What should she say if he found it out when married? — her fellow-servant, a widow, told her she had had several men before marriage, and her husband had not found out the want of virginity. She used to sleep in the same bed with that servant; they got from talking to feeling, and then to frigging each other. Did I see any harm in that? No I did not, I told her.
Encouraged she then told me more. One night her fellow-servant produced something like a man’s thing, and put it up herself, saying it gave her more pleasure than frigging. Another night, when Kitty was made over-randy by talking, and feeling each other, she let the woman put the thing up her. It was up her before she was aware of it almost, and did not hurt her much. She spent, it gave her pleasure, but she was bleeding, and she cried. “It was a dildo,” said I. Kitty had never heard the word, the cook called it a sham-cock. I comforted the girl, and told her I had heard that women managed to humbug a husband on the marriage- night. “But I’m afraid I’m in the family way,” said she. That was annoying news to me. “Let’s fuck as much as we can then before your next monthly time my dear,” — and we did. Afterwards she told me all about the lewed tricks the two women played together. The cook had gamahuched her, and always wanted to do it. Kit liked the pleasure, but had never done it to the cook. Such confidences I always got after a time from women. I know they will lay in my arms, and tell me all about themselves after a little. I don’t know how much to believe of this tale of Kitty’s, but write it just as she told it to me. I think it true.
She was a nice girl. I greatly enjoyed fucking her, and oh! didn’t she! but in a few weeks I had had enough of her. During that time I never touched a gay lady, and had quite a dislike to their ready voluptuousness; but it became very difficult to get a grind with the girl, which was annoying. She had asked to go out as often as was possible, but the family was much at home, through wet weather, and I wanted a spend daily. But I think I should have continued longer my attentions exclusively to her dark-haired motte, had chance not thrown quite a different coloured article in my way.
I was out at a dance. A very pretty, quite light, fair-haired woman whom I had known some time was there. She had been a widow about three years, had three children, was about thirty years old, and was soon going to marry again. She bore an excellent virtuous character among our mutual friends. I had since her widowhood once or twice, when a little warm, dropped a double entendre, but she never took it up, and I had not thought about having her, nor indeed much desired her.
On the night in question a strong letch for her came over me, perhaps I was over-fed and heated. It was a very warm night for early spring. I danced with her several times, and at intervals asked her if she did not feel frightened in bed by herself, and other suggestive questions. She parried them by evasive but rather warm replies, and we in fact egged each other on, both getting randier and randier I expect. At last I said in the middle of a quadrille something very strongly suggestive. She replied that if it would not look strange, she would leave off dancing with me at once. But I kept on the same sort of joking, and warmed her up till she replied much in the same spirit. She must have been awfully lewed by the time the quadrille was finished.
I did not take her into supper, but was near to her, drank to her, and kept looking at her, and she at me. Then I danced again with her, hugging her in a waltz. About half-past one in the morning we were both in the hall leaving, and her carriage had not come. She got tired of waiting, and would wait no longer, so had a cab called. No she would not give me a seat — of course not. I left, and walked on, leaving her in the hall. It was a lovely night. I intentionally did not go out of sight of the house, and when the cab neared me, boldly called to the man to stop, on seeing the lady inside. “Now do give me a lift, no one will know or can say anything,” — and into the cab I got with her. She did not resist, though she objected.
I can’t tell exactly the order of what followed, it was all rapidly done. We must have been both stewing in lust, she perhaps worse than me, from not having had a prick up her for three years. In a minute I was kissing, in another my fingers were on her cunt, in another her hand clasped my prick, and I was entreating her to let me have her. We were crossing London, and I suggested a house. She was in a state of voluptuous silence. “Oh! — no — oh! — n — ho,” was all she said as I kissed, frigged, and entreated her, not heeding her refusal. “Cafe de l’Europe,” said I to the cabby, who turned his horse’s head, and drove there. She had consented in a passive manner. At the Cafe we got out, I drew the hood of her cloak over her head. Off went the cab. We stopped in the cafe- lobby, and directly the cab was gone I walked her into J***s Street close by, and up into a room I had occupied a hundred times. In a minute I pushed both hands up her clothes, feeling her bum, thighs and cunt. “Let’s fuck my love, let’s fuck.” I never minced words at that stage, and was kneeling on the floor feeling her, whilst she stood in silence permitting it.
“Take off your dress love.” “Impossible, — how can I fasten it again” “The chambermaid will.” “Oh! don’t let her come in, and see my face.” I pulled her to the bedside, and threw her back. “Oh! my head-dress — what will my maid think if it’s undone?” In my fierce lust I thought of nothing but fucking her, but she was in ball-dress, a feather in her hair, jewels round her neck, bracelets and ornaments about her everywhere. Her fears were wise. Hastily I pushed pillows under her back to keep her head up. “Don’t rumple my dress.” “I won’t.” “Oh! don’t get me with child,” said she as I pulled up her clothes. “No I’ll not spend in you” (I had said that when in the cab). The next second I saw a pair of lovely plump, white thighs and a sandy-haired quim, my prick was up it, we were both wrought up to the highest pitch. “Kiss me dear.” “O — h — o kiss me,” said she. I was fucking upright by the bedside, for fear of deranging her clothes. Now I closed on her, thrust my tongue into her sweet mouth, and forgetting all about dress or children clutched her tight, and spent up her, and she with me.
It’s delicious when one’s passion has been cooled in a woman, to hold her thighs up round you as I did those of Mrs. X. I never saw a woman lay so tranquil with eyes closed so long. She was a lovely sight as she lay with diamonds, and gold, and feathers, her full breasts showing nearly to her bubbies over her satin dress; silk stockings on her plump legs, white satin boots on her feet, all upon her of the cleanest and richest. My cock at length began to dwindle, I felt the moisture running onto my balls,
and cooling round my prick where her cunt-lips closed round it, and then she opened her eyes. “Take care of my clothes.” “Hold your thighs well up, and I will.” I placed my hand under my prick, drew it out, and caught the sperm which followed it. She rose holding her cunt, and rushed to the basin like mad. I poured out water. “You’ve got me with child,” said she. “Nonsense.” “You have, — you have, — I’m sure you have,” she replied as she squatted, washing her cunt.
After a long slopping she rose looking confused, then in the glass to see if her head-dress was all right. “I’m frightened,” said she, “I’m sure I shall be with child.” “Nonsense. “I’m perfectly sure,” — and she sat down in a thoughtful state. “Oh! why did I let you get into the cab with me.” I dropped on my knees in front of her, my prick still hanging out. I felt grateful to her for her sacrifice. I have always liked a nice woman more after I have fucked her than before, and she looked such a lovely blonde though of a colour I did not admire. Then I found a lot of our spending had dropped on my black trousers. Getting a towel to cleanse them, thinking of the moisture and its cause, I stiffened, and my cock stood in front of her like a bowsprit. “Let’s do it again.” “I must go, — I must get back,” — but I had had neither a feel nor a sight of her charms. In my rutting fury I had driven my prick up her directly I felt her nakedness. Nor had she in her maddening want of prick impeded me. Now both were inclined for the soft voluptuous amusements, that gentle examination by sight and touch, those delicious kisses which are nearly as nice as the crisis that follows them. She was overcome, and yielded readily, spite of her anxiety.
Without coyness, yet with perfect modesty, she let me see her charms. She was beautifully made, with thighs of dazzling whiteness, — most light-haired women have, — her cunt well -covered with hair of the colour of dark ginger, had darkish red, and largish nymphae showing through it. A prettier light-haired cunt I never saw. The slight aroma from it, mingled with the per-fume of her moist skin, of flowers, clean linen, and silks, drove me wild again. Never but twice before I think have I seen a lovely, modest woman in exquisite clothing, exposing her charms to me, and both the others had dark-haired cunts. “Oh! let me see you from a distance,” said I retreating to the other side of the room to look. She laid exposed, but I could not wait to contemplate long. Dropping on my knees again, I buried my tongue in her cunt, tickled it in ecstasy, kissed, smelt, and licked slightly her quim all over. Then at the edge of the bed again, placing pillows for her head, and folding up her dress above her navel, so as not to rumple it, I fucked her. Both em- braces must have been done in a quarter of an hour. My excitement was intense. With her it was almost a wedding-night, and she was overcome with sexual pleasure. “The mischief’s done,” said she as she washed again. I laughed at her, but she persisted. Her first child was born nine months to a day after her marriage. They would have had more than three children had they not taken precautions to prevent them. She told this to me rapidly whilst preparing to leave. She was of a breeding nature, and all her family were. She pressed me to leave at once, but I was mad about her. I longed to get picturesque views of her hidden charms, surrounded as they were by lace and jewels. Her coach-man was her anxiety, — was he drunk? — had he gone to fetch her or not, and when! — what if he had gone, and returned home, — found her not returned? — what should she say? We were puzzled, but arranged that her cab was to have broken down, and she had difficulty in getting another, — a lame story, but the best we could compose. Again I wanted her. “Oh! think of me, — think of the consequences, —let me get home.” I had been furiously frigging my prick whilst talking, hoping to make it stiff, knowing that nothing persuades a woman like a stiff-stander. Many a woman will say, “no, no,” till she sees the red-tipped cunt-stopper ready, and then can say it no longer. It has been my experience with women of the modest class.
Her cloak was on, the hood well over her head. “Let me have you.” “Another day perhaps, but let us go now.” I kept on frigging myself. “Let us do it again, — look it’s stiff, — we shan’t be five minutes.” “Oh! yes we will.” “One look then at your cunt, at those lovely thighs again,” said I frigging on. Dropping on my knees, puffing up her clothes, I began kissing her motte. Nothing makes a modest woman more randy than a man looking at her nakedness, the idea of it stirs her lust. Then my tongue played on her lovely little clitoris, she fell back on the bed, then I arranged her head, and gamahuched her for a minute, and then put into her. Once my cock seemed inclined to shirk its duty, but I drove it up her fast and furious, her cunt clipped, my spunk shot up it, and we had copulated again, but I was a long time at it. She spent again. Then without either of us washing we left. I had a four-wheeler, and she drove away, but not from the baudy house door. “Pay him well,” said I.
I called the next day, how we looked at each other! — a lady was with her. “Think,” said she to her, as though for her information, “how my coachman served me last night.” Then she told the lady that on getting home in a cab, she found him slightly tipsy, but putting in the horses to the carriage, and swearing she had told him three a.m., and not one a.m., — she would dismiss him. How I blessed that tippling coachman, — all was safe.
Gentlemen never visited at her house without their wives, her and children were always present or friends with her, she was most particular in her conduct. So I wrote asking her to meet me in the B**l***t*n Arcade. She did meet and promised to go with me. “Once, only once mind, — at some hotel in the day-time, to a house of another class, never.” So I took a sitting-room and bed-room at the *** hotel, and slept there one night as a blind. She came the next day, and I had a lovely three hours with her. I gamahuched her, — but not till she spent. I never have been able to say why I at times did this to a woman when I passed scores over. She had never been cunt-licked before. I had her several times afterwards, and did the same. Again I took her to my house in J***s Street, telling her that it was a’ sort of private hotel. Perhaps she believed it, perhaps not, but she came a few times there. We neither entered nor left together, and she asked no more questions about the house.
I was thus having her and Catherine alternately and my mind took a voluptuous twist. When I was with Kitty I would think of Mrs. X’s flaxen- haired cunt, and fancy I was fucking her. When up Mrs. X. I thought that Kitty’s black-haired motte was twisting and twining with my prick’s surroundings. Then the two got mixed in my voluptuous imagination, and I felt as if I were in both cunts at the same time. So I enjoyed the two females immensely, but for a short time only. Mrs. X.’s courses came on, they did so one afternoon when I was stroking her. “Thank God,” said she, and she never let me have her afterwards. I have kissed her, and she me, slyly shown her my penis, have felt her quim, but she could not be persuaded to more. Some months afterwards she married, and has had several children since. She is alive now as I write this. She asked me to avoid speaking to her as much as I could, when she was married, if ever we met at friends’ houses.
(I did meet her several times for years afterwards, but never by look, or otherwise, showed any intimacy with her.)
I knew a little of her second husband, but as on her marriage they did not send us cards, we did not visit them, which was as it should be. After her fucking she used always to say, “Oh! what madness, what wicked madness of me, to let you do this.”
I lost Kate nearly at the same time as I lost Mrs. X. She was impudent to her mistress, who dismissed her, and she went home. I never heard if she married, or what took place after. She was in lodgings for about a week before she returned to the country. During that time I took her to J***s Street nightly, and had delight in shagging her in exactly the same way at the bedside as I had Mrs. X. I told her I had a lady on that bed with ginger-coloured hair on her cunt. “A light-haired thing like that must look very ugly, — doesn’t it?,” said she. Now I never gamahuched Kitty, nor thought of doing it to her, and yet I did it to Mrs. X. Why to one, and not the other I never could tell, when I thought of my selection.
I was glad both liaisons had terminated. The “family way” annoys me always and I suppose both women spoke the truth. Mrs. X. was frantic when her monthly period approached, and there was nothing to show for it. “My God if this should cause my marriage to be broken off,” etc., and I could not marry her. — She had always liked me she said. Good God what madness had come over her on that unfortunate night, when she let me get into the cab with her. She took however her fucking readily enough as long as her courses stopped. We never were actually in bed together, though we were undressed, and on it. Curiosity, opportunity, and a randy cock and cunt brought the affair about, — I expect there are many such cases. I have at J***s Street when Hannah was mistress, seen once or twice, ladies come in fine evening dresses, hiding their faces, and going upstairs with gentlemen, and once she told me that a lady came there, stripped herself naked, covered her face with gauze, and then was fucked by men she got for her; but she never would tell me who the men or the lady were.
Kitty took her “family way” more coolly. She had not her courses on, even when she left, but she had been to some woman who gave her something, sure she said to set her to rights, though it would make her very ill. So she resolved to take it when at home with her mother in the country. I gave her ten pounds at parting, and the fullest advice I could, as to her behaviour on her wedding-night, and fucked her just before she got into the cab to depart.
She met me under the portico of the Haymarket Theatre, leaving her cab with her box outside close by. She was behind time, and I thought she had humbugged me. I had just only time to throw up her petticoats, have a last look at her male-cage, and plug it. Then looking at my watch I doubted if she would catch her train. Off she went with my spunk in her cunt. I had her ad-dress, and she a post-office where she could write to me, — but neither of us did write.
Then I took to indiscriminate whoring, and having for the time plenty of money, soon tailed about three dozen of the finest women of the Argyle set. I was surrounded by them so soon as I showed myself there, — they were the palmy days of the Argyle.
(I don’t think I have said that Hannah had been dismissed from J***s Street. I have never seen her since.)