VOLUME 3 CHAPTER 13
Sarah’s complaisance. • Mistress Hannah. • About Sarah. • Sexual indifference. • After dinner. • Stark naked at last. • Her form. • The scar. • Hannah’s friendship. • The baudy house parlour. • The Guardsman. • Sarah’s greed. • A change in her manner. • A miscarriage. • Going abroad. • I am madly in love. • Sarah’s history.
She laughed. “Well I will, — but don’t make me undress, — I’m in a hurry.” “Of course, — you always are.” She laid on the sofa, and pulled up her clothes, —she was yielding. “No, — come here.” She came, and laid on the side of the bed. At length I saw those glorious thighs open wider, the dark-shaded crack with the swelling lips showed itself more freely than I had ever seen it before. I dropped on my knees, and prop-ping up one of her feet with my hand, lifted the leg so that the thighs distended, and a large bit of crimson nymphae began to show, the faint but delicious odour of her cunt stole up my nostrils, my lips closed on her gap, and kissed it lecherously, my brain whirled as my nose rubbed in the thicket of dark hair, and my lip touched her clitoris. I know nothing more excepting that I was up her as she laid there, and spending as quickly as ever, before I had in fact well plugged her. “Are you satisfied?” said she as she looked up from washing her cunt by the side of me. “No, it’s so quick, you fetch me so quickly.” “That is no fault of mine.” She had said so often before. I recollect all these apparently trivial, these various feelings and circumstances, as well as if it were yesterday, for she had made her mark on me.
I had partly conquered, and saw my victory. “I like seeing you so”, said I, “but won’t see you, or any other woman who won’t let me see her charms, and who is always in such a hurry, — it would be all very well if I saw you for the first time—(why you have a new black silk dress on.” “Yes, I bought it with your money”, said she), — but for a regular friend as I am, it is unsupportable.” I conquered more, and subsequently, told her that I might be in Regent Street one day, but I did not go there (I had made no promise). She said she went out against her will to see me, — could I write to say when she was to meet me? No, —but I could write to the baudy house, and they would send on the letter. I called there one morning, and left a letter. The Mistress was a shortish sandy-haired woman about thirty years old, with a white face; she looked very fixedly at me, and smiled. She would send on the letter to Miss Sarah Mavis which I found was the name she went by; but Sarah never came to my letter, and I paid for the room for nothing. Then I sent for the Mistress; had a bottle of champagne with her, and she opened her heart a little, she was soon a little screwed, and this was what she told me. Her name was Hannah.
She had not known Miss Mavis long, — only a month or so before she had come in with me, — did not often see her now excepting with me. Mavis had been asking if I had been seen in the house with any other woman, “and of course I did not tell her”, said Sandyhead. She thought her a nice woman, and had struck up acquaintance with her. Now she often came into the parlour to chat with her when I had left, or before she came upstairs to me, when I was at the house before my appointed time.
Things went on thus for a little time longer, Sarah doing much as she liked, but certainly becoming more complaisant. She stopped longer, we began to talk; I was of course curious about her, she about me, I dare say she got much out of me, I but little out of her. What I mainly learned was that she only came on the streets occasionally, and from about eleven to one o’clock in the day. — never afterwards; and when she had sufficient money to “go on with”, as she said, she came not out at all. “I hate it”, said she, “hate you men, — you are all beasts, — you’re never satisfied unless you are pulling a woman about in all manner of ways.” “It pleases us”, said I, “we admire you so.” “Well it does not please me, — I want them to do what they have to do, and let me go.” “Why don’t you go out in the afternoon or evening?” “No, I get my money in the morning, and have other things to do the rest of the day.”
She had not been gay long, — not more than a month before I had met her, — was taken to the house in J.. .s Street by the first man who met her in the streets, and had been there often since. No she never had been gay before, she would swear, and often wished she were dead rather than have to come out, and let men pull her about, and put their nasty muck into her, — “nasty muck” was always the pleasant way in which she spoke of a man’s sperm.
“One would think you never cared about a poke, — I wonder how often you spend.” “Oh! it’s all the same to me whether I have it, or whether I don’t, — if I do it once a fortnight it’s as much as I care about, — you beasts of men seem to think of nothing else, and you leave us poor women all the trouble that comes from putting your muck into us.” “What the devil do you care about?” said I after a chat with her one day, in which she had just said what I have narrated. “Oh! I don’t care about anything much.”
Another day she said, “I like a nice dinner, and then a read in an arm- chair, till I go to sleep, or a nice bit of supper, and to get into bed, — I’m so tired of a night, I like to get to bed early if I can.” We went on talking about eating and drinking; she told me what she liked, and what she disliked with much gusto and earnestness. “I’ll give you a good dinner”, said I, “and we will come here afterwards.” “Will you ?” “Yes, — but I won’t unless I have you three hours here.” “Impossible, — I dare not be out after half-past ten.” “Come early.” “I can’t come very early, for I must be home in the afternoon.” There were all sorts of obstacles, — so many that I gave it up, not going to be humbugged. But she would not give it up, and it was arranged that if she might name the evening, she would be with me at six o’clock, and stay with me till ten, — an immense concession, — it was the dinner that did it. I saw she was fond of her stomach, and that made me offer the dinner as a bait.
She would not come in after me to the restaurant, I was to meet her at the corner of St. Martin’s lane in a cab, and go with her, — and so it came off. We went to the Cafe de P.. v… e in Leicester square, I had already ordered a private room, and a nice dinner. My God how she enjoyed it ! “It’s a long time since I’ve had such a good dinner”, said she, “but never mind, better times are coming again for me, I feel sure.” She ate largely, she drank well, and to my astonishment when I got up to kiss her, she kissed me in return, and gave my piercer the slightest possible pinch outside my trowsers. “Let’s feel you”, said I. Equally astonished was I when she said, “Bolt the door, the waiter may be in”, — and then I had a grope, and she felt my prick. “Let’s go—let’s go, — I am dying for you.” Off we went arm in arm. Directly we were well away from the Cafe she let go my arm. “You go first, and I will follow.” I thought she was going to cheat me. “I dare not be seen walking arm in arm with a man, — but I will follow.” In five minutes we were in the room together. Sarah Mavis was just in the slightest degree elevated, and perhaps more than slightly lewd.
To pull off my things, to help her off with hers partially was the work of a minute. “I must piddle first, —champagne always makes me want to piddle so.” “Does it make you randy?” “Oh ! Lord it does some-times; but it’s such a time since I tasted it before to-night, I almost forget.” “Are you so now?” “Oh ! I don’t know, — come on the bed”, said she. She opened her thighs wide, she let me grope and smell, and kiss, and see. “Come on, — do.” Instinct told me she wanted it, I embraced her, and was enjoying her, when she clasped me firmly, sought my mouth. “Oh ! my darling, I’m co—com—h—hing”, said she spending as she cried out, and fetched me at the same instant. It was the first time she had ever spent with me.
We laid in heavenly quietness, prick and cunt in holy junction, distilling, slobbering, and bedewing each other’s mouths and privates, whilst the soft voluptuous pleasure was creeping through our limbs, bodies, and senses. She was in no hurry to wash out the muck. “Oh! I’m chocking”, said she after a time, get off.” “I won’t.” “Oh ! do, — my stays choke me when I lie down after food, — I’m almost suffocated.” I held fast. “If I get off, you won’t let me do it again.” “Yes,-yes I will.” She jerked my prick out of her cunt, I got to the side of the bed, she sat up, and was about to get off, when I stopped her, and together we undid her stays, and took them off. “Let me wash now.” “No you shan’t, — I’ve never yet fucked with my first sperm in you, — let me now, there is a darling.” She laughed, and fell back; then for a few minutes we kissed and toyed. Her magnificent breasts were now free, I buried my face between them, and kissed them rapturously; her moistened quim I felt, and it drove me wild with desire; so gluing my mouth to hers I mounted her, and we were soon in Elysium again, Sarah enjoying her fuck in a way I thought from her cold-blooded manner previously she was quite incapable of, — and there we laid, nestling cock and cunt together, till a slight sleep or doze overtook both of us.
In a minute or two Sarah sprang up, and rushed to the basin. I lay still, contemplating her, and saying I would not wash my prick for a week, so that I might retain in the roots and its moistened fringe our mixed juices, the remnants of our first spend together. When she had washed she laid down by the side of me. “Let’s have a nap”, said she. The wine seemed to be getting into her head more and more, though she was but in the slightest degree fuddled.
I could not sleep. The sight of her breasts relieved from her stays, the free manner in which she let her petticoats lay half up her thighs, the delight at finding her take pleasure in my embraces, exulted me beyond measure. I joked and tickled her. “Let’s see you naked.” “You shan’t.” “Well stand up, and let me see your limbs naked, — take off your petticoats, even if you keep your chemise on.” She was yielding, took petticoats off, but would do no more. I had seen more than any other man, and she would do no more, she said. The wine had evaporated, and she was herself again, quiet, composed.
Maddened with desire. “I’ll give you a sovereign”, I said, “to take the chemise off.” “Will you !” “Yes.” “No I won’t.” “I’ll give you two.” “What can you want to see more for?” “Hang it, take the money, and let me, or I’ll rip it off without paying.” I closed with her, and struggled, pulled the chemise up above her haunches, pulled it down below her breasts, tore it. “Now don’t, — I won’t have it”, said she getting angry, “it won’t please you if I do, — you will not like to see me half as well afterwards, I tell you.” “Yes I shall, —here is the money, — now let me see you naked, I’ll give you three sovereigns.”
She pushed me away, and sat down. “Where is the money?” said she. I gave it her. “I’ve got an ugly scar, — I don’t like it seen.” “Never mind, — show it.” Slowly she dropped the chemise, and stood in all her naked beauty, and pointing to a scar just below her breasts, and about four inches above her navel, “There”, said she, “is it not ugly? — does it not spoil me !—how I hate it!”
I told her no, — that she was so beautiful, that it mattered not. Yet ugly it was. A seam looking like a piece of parchment which had been held close to a fire -and crinkled, and then glazed, star-shaped, white, and as big as a large egg lay between her breasts and her navel. It was the only defect on one of the most perfect and beautiful forms that God ever had created.
“There”, said she covering it up, “you won’t want me naked again, — now I dare say you don’t like me as much.” Yes I did. “Do you?” “Yes.” She came and kissed me. I often had her as naked as she was born afterwards.
“What is the time?” “Ten o’clock.” “I must go.” “Another poke.” “Make haste then.” We had it. “Oh! now don’t keep me, if I’m not home by half- past ten I shall be half murdered.” She had let expressions like that drop more than once; but I got no explanation excepting that she lived with her father and mother, — and at that time I believed it.
At the next meeting she had her old quiet manner, her old “keep your distance” was attempted; but it was impossible. A woman must always give again what she has once given, she cannot help it. Then came more dinners, but she was more cautious now in what she ate and drank, less reckless in her embraces of me: but we were closer acquaintances than we had been; she let me pull her about more freely and as a matter of course, washed her quim without hiding herself for that operation, and so on, — yet still she held me at a great distance, and was reserved. She conquered me, in a degree.
In fact she did pretty well what she liked with me; saw me when she liked, stopped with me as long as she thought proper, let me fuck her just as often as she liked, and no more (and it was rarely she let me do that more than once a day), see to her knees, or to her cunt, or pull her about just in the degree she for the time thought fit to permit. I grumbled, said I would see more complaisant women. “Well I might if I liked, —but I did not. Her indifference to sexual pleasure chilled and annoyed me and for a reason I never could understand, her cunt never seemed quite to fit me, nor fetch me with the voluptuousness that scores of other women have done. Yet I saw her almost exclusively for three years, and when she gave herself up to pleasure with me, my delight was unbounded; when she let me have her with her cunt unwashed after our first copulation, I thought of it for days afterwards. Altogether she had her way with me in a manner I did not see, and have only comprehended since.
This went on for some months. Whether she had other male friends or not I don’t know, but I never found her in Regent Street or other places where I had once been able to find her, after I began to see her regularly, and have reason to think that she ceased casuals after she had me, and perchance another, that is all. Hannah said often at a future day that I was her only friend.
I have not yet described her. She was of perfect height for a woman, say five feet seven, her form from her chin to her toe-nails was faultless, if anything inclining to too much flesh, and to too great a backside; but then I liked flesh, and a woman’s bum could not be too big for me. I used to rub my lips and cheeks over her bum for a quarter of an hour at a time, when she condescended to turn it upwards for so long a time for that worship. Handsome her face certainly was, but it was of a somewhat heavy character: her eyes were dark, soft, and vague in expression which together with the habit of leaving her lips slightly open, gave her a thoughtful, and at times half-vacant look. Her nose was charming and retroussé, her mouth small, with full lips, and a delicious set of very small white teeth, her hair was nearly black, long, thick, and coarsish dark hair in large quantity was in her armpits, and showed slightly when her arms were down, her arms and breasts were superb. Her cunt was thick-lipped, and with largish inner lips which showed well in nearly the whole length of the split; her mons was very plump, and covered well, but not widely with crisp black hair. She looked twenty-six, yet was not more than twenty-two, and she looked most handsome when lying asleep.
If I were asked the most perfect thing about her, I should say her feet and legs up to her notch—they were simply perfect; I have seen them as handsome in smaller women, never in one of her height. I must add that her cunt was large both outside and inside, and that she was not a voluptuous poke to me, but why I can only guess at now; I did not know it whilst I was acquainted with her.
“A little of that satisfies me”, she would say of poking, “once a week, — once a fortnight, excepting at times, — you men are beasts, all of you.” She at first refused my mouth, never moved her bum, and laid like a log. “Here I am, — do what you like, — do it, and get it over, — or leave it”, was her common mode of meeting my grumbling. Her first sexual pleasure with me was I believe the night she dined with me; afterwards she took pleasure with me more frequently, but uncunting me, and rushing out of bed to wash the instant I had spent, before I had indeed done spending; until a sudden change in her took place which I shall tell of, and then she was kinder, more lustful, or perhaps I might say more loving, and more reckless; letting me enjoy her after my own fashion, and abandoning herself to enjoyment as much as it was perhaps in her nature to do so.
I found that she often now was with the keeper of the house, or rather she who represented her, — Hannah. So I got acquainted more closely with Hannah, would go into her parlour, and talk with her before Sarah came. This began one day when I was awaiting Sarah by her asking me if I would cast up a column of figures, nearly the whole of which was in five shillings and seven and sixes. I did it once, then I did it a second time. Going in one day just afterwards she stepped out from her parlour, and thanked me. I stepped into the parlour, and got into the custom of doing so, — if ladies were not in there, — but there was a good introduction business done, as will be seen, and oftentimes ladies were waiting there till their swains arrived.
One day she cooked a luncheon for me, once a break-fast, the latter was during the time I had quarrelled with Sarah, and took another woman to sleep with me there. I complimented her on her cooking, she was half groggy (as she often was), and was very talkative. “Lord”, said she, “you have tasted my dinners many a times.” “Nonsense.” “Yes you have.” “Where?” “Do you recollect a ball at where all the servants were allowed to look at the table before supper, and your coming down with Mr and we all scuffling back?” “Perfectly.” “Well I cooked that supper.” Then it turned out that she had been cook at a house where I was a constant visitor, she had recognised me at once, but did not recollect my name, or so she said, — indeed it was not probable that she knew it. She had been caught with a soldier in the house, and had been kicked out.
Now by chance of fortune she was keeper of a baudy house, and her soldier visited her there when in London, — he was a Guardsman, — and she supplied him with money, and lots he had, for she robbed her Mistress wholesale of the baudy house profits.
Hannah had two sisters; one a married woman with a bad husband, and several children. She often came and assisted at J … s Street, sometimes acting as chambermaid, — and about two years after this period of my history, a second one appeared who had been a housemaid, and who had I suppose also lost her character. A pretty blue-eyed girl about twenty years old with a cast in her eye, and a lovely leg up to within a few inches of her cunt. I never saw higher, and shall have more to say about her hereafter. Her name was, Susan—a sailor was said to be in love with her.
Sarah at the end of some months asked me to give her five pounds, and soon afterwards ten pounds. She was going to make up a sum of money to buy a business for her father. She had been dressing very shabbily I noticed, and said she knew I did not mind that, and it was all because she was trying to save money, —to quit that life she hoped, — and I believed it. I could not get her for several days, yet could have sworn I had heard her voice one day in loud altercation with a man in the parlour when I was waiting for her upstairs. I rang and asked for her; the servant came, and asserted that Miss Mavis was not there, and I never saw her that night. Next day I made an appointment (through Hannah) for eleven a.m., and waited a long time before she came up. She looked ill. “You’ve been crying.” “I have not.” “Yes you have, —your eyes are red, — aye, and wet now.” She asserted she had not, and then burst out sobbing saying she was unwell. I was distressed, and sent for wine, Hannah came up and comforted her (I saw Hannah knew all about it). Then we were left to ourselves. “I’ve never been abed all night”, said Sarah. “Come to bed now.” To my extreme astonishment into bed she came, after looking at me in a very earnest manner.
I had often asked her before, and she never would; saying she never had been in bed but with one man, and never meant. I was enraptured, stripped to my skin, and was soon pressing every part of her body to mine. She gave herself up to me entirely, her tongue met mine as we spent. “Don’t throw me out now dear.” “Very well.” Oh ! miracle, I thought, and there we lay, prick and cunt soaking together, till we had another fuck, then she dozed off in my arms, and I soon afterwards. We slept more than two hours, then my fingers sought her cunt directly; and awakened her. I told her the time, she sighed saying, “It’s no matter, — it serves them right.” It was a day of miracles, Hannah sent up food, we ate it in bed, we fucked again and again. I was delighted with the spunk we left on the sheets; then we dined at the Cafe, and went back to the baudy house, — more fucking, no cunt-washing, all was free baudy abandonment.
Hannah came up to us about the time Sarah usually left me, and told her it was time to go. Sarah said she did not care a damn, Hannah begged her to go, — she would go home with her. She agreed to go, kissed me, and said I was a kind fellow. I waited outside, and tried to dodge her home; but was unsuccessful; the two discovered me, stopped, and upbraided me, and came back to the baudy house. Then she made me promise not to follow her, and went out to piddle as she said. Hannah followed, I waited five minutes for them, and then called to the servant. She came in with a demure face, and said “Lor sir they have both gone out five minutes ago.”
For weeks after that Sarah was changed, and with the exception of not stripping entirely did as freely as I wished, she did everything I wanted, but sleep with me all night; she kept out later, but away at night she went; she embraced me, enjoyed her fucking, and in fact treated me like a husband. Then she said one day, “I’m some months gone in the family way.” “Who’s the dad?” “You perhaps.” “No I’m not,-it’s some man you are fond of, not me.” “I am fond of no man”, said she. Then she was ill, and away for three weeks, she had had a miscarriage. I was in des-pair, and sent her money all the time of her illness, but could learn nothing from Hannah, excepting that Sarah was a dear good woman, and too good for him. That was said before the sister, who cried out, “You shut up Hannah.” So I came to the conclusion there was some other man in the way.
Another day I pumped Hannah, but she was an old bird, and not easily caught. “She is fond of a man”, I said. “She is not a fond sort, — if she is fond of any man at all it’s you, — but she has got her duty to do.” “What’s that?” “Ask her, — I don’t know her business. Now you get out, there are some ladies coming here directly, and Miss Mavis won’t like your being here with them.” “I’m not her property.” “Pretty nearly you are, — at all events go, there is a good gentleman.” Whilst Sarah was away I did get acquainted with three or four ladies, and two of them I had. Sarah had then either gone abroad or I had had a desperate quarrel with her.
When Sarah met me again she was still miserably ill, and thanked me for my kindness warmly. We resumed our meetings, and again she was cautious, but no longer bounced me. She spent with me, enjoyed me, but entreated me. “Oh! let me wash out the muck, — now do pull it out, — I am so frightened of being ill again.” So I let her have her way. She refused to say anything about her illness, excepting that it was I who had caused it; but I did not believe her. She usually now gave way to pleasure with me; at the end of the month I gave her twenty pounds to make up a sum, then she got still more exacting about money. “Oh! I do stop a long time with you, — give me more money, —do, — I want to make up a sum, etc., etc., — and then of course came a lie. At length she said one bright sunny morning it was, I had poked her, and was laying on the sofa afterwards, she sitting on the easy-chair, her lovely breasts out, one beautiful leg over the other showing slightly the flesh of her thighs), “You won’t see much more of me, — we are going abroad.”
I started as if I had been shot at. “You? — nonsense, —never.” “I am indeed, — I’m sick of this life, and will go anywhere, do anything to get out of it.
I sank back on the sofa sobbing, it came home to me all at once that I was madly in love with her. I was dazed with my own discovery,–I in love with a gay woman! one whose cunt might have had a thous-and pricks up it! who might have sprung from any dung-hill !–impossible ! I felt mad with myself, — degraded !—impossible, — it could not be, — and for a time I conquered myself. I tried then to draw her out about herself. It was useless. Her quiet way of asserting that she was going at length brought home the conviction that she spoke the truth. Then I laid and sobbed on the sofa for half-an-hour. “Oh ! you will soon get another friend”, said she. “No, no, — I can get a woman, but not one I shall like,
— Sarah my darling, Sarah I love you, — I dote on you, — oh l for God’s sake don’t leave, — come with me, — you shan’t lead this life, — we will go abroad together.”
“That is impossible, — if I did you would leave me, and then what should I do? — come back to this life, —no.” “You are going with somebody else, — who?” “I can’t say, — I’ll tell you when I am gone.” “When are you going?” “Perhaps in a fortnight, perhaps a little later on.”
I calmed for a time, a fortnight might give me a chance of persuading her, and I began it at once; but it was all, “No, — no, — no, — it’s all for the best for both of us”,–and again I fell into deep despair, my heart felt breaking, I had been so happy with this woman for months, she had so filled my thoughts, so occupied my spare time, that I had half forgotten my home life. Now I felt alone again, I had told her some of my troubles, — not all, — now I poured them all out, and offered everything, — all I had, — to go that next day abroad, and never return; that I would make her love me though she did not now, I promised all men could promise, — and meant it.
“No, — no, — impossible”, — and again I fell back on the sofa sobbing like an infant, I have almost the deadly heart-ache now as I write this. She sat looking at me for some time, then she arose, stooped over me, and kissed me. I turned round, and—how strange that in my despair I noticed it, and now recollect noticing id—as she stooped her chemise opened, and as I put my arm round her, her breasts touched my face, and as I moved to kiss them I saw her whole lovely form down to her feet, the dark hair of her motte, the bright white scar; and all in the soft subdued light which is on a woman’s body when enveloped in a thin chemise, —and my prick stood whilst kissing her and sobbing, and she was soothing me.
“It’s of no use your loving me,” she said, “and it’s of no use my loving you, — don’t take on so, — perhaps when I am gone you will be happier at home, — I can’t love you, although I like you very much, for you have been a good, kind man to me, — I nearly do love you I think, — if I were with you I’m sure I should, — but it’s of no use, for I am a married woman, and have two children, and am going with them and my husband.”
I was amazed, and doubted it. “I’ll bring you my children to see”, said she, “it was to get them their dinners and tea that I always left you at times as I have.” “And at night?” “I always go home before he comes home.” “You always go home to your husband ?” “Yes.”
How I loathed that man I—my loathing rose to my lips. “That miserable contemptible cur lives by your body, — a dirty vagabond.” “No he’s not, — poor fellow, he would earn our living if he could, but he can’t.” “I don’t believe it, — a man who lives by a woman is barely a man, — I would empty cesspools to keep a woman I loved, rather than another man should stroke her, — no good can come of it, — he’ll leave you for some other woman some day.” Sarah turned nasty, said she was sorry she had told me so much, that all I said against him only made her like him the more; and so leaving me in sorrow she went away.
Now that I felt sure she was going away, I could not see too much of her; morning, noon, and night I had her. She brought her two children to me, and very proud she was of them. How it was I never noticed the marks of childbirth on her before I know not, but I never had. I spoke of that now. “I took good care you should not”, said she smiling, and I recollected that when I had her by the side of the bed, when I looked at her on the sofa, it was nearly always with her back to the light; when laying on the bed, and I tried to gratify my passion by opening her thighs, and gazing on her hidden charms, she nearly always half-turned towards the window, and her belly was in shadow. “I don’t like to be pulled about, — I won’t have it, — if you want me have me, and have done with it, — get another woman if you like who will do it, or allow it, — I won’t.” These and similar answers always settled me, and I submitted, for I was under her domination, and in my folly I had actually feared that if I persisted, she would not come to see me.
She brought her children in the morning to me at J… s Street, and I had her that afternoon. Now she was free enough, pointed herself to the marks of childbirth (very slight they were), and voluptuously held her cunt-lips open, — she had never done so before. From that day and afterwards she allowed me to see her in every way or manner, if not to let me do what I wished. The mystery was over, I knew most if not all, — certainly all about her person.