My Secret Life (63 page)

Next night Sarah met me out. — Said she, “I will stop out till twelve, make her lushy with shrub if she won’t do it without, and then fuck her, but she’ll let you. — She is in love with you.” — “Didn’t the doctor say he would perhaps give me a new frock?” said she to Sarah. — “How could he know I had tried to put my finger up?” — Sarah told her that doctors knew everything about women. — Then I asked her if she had ever seen a man’s cock. — Yes her brother’s, who showed it her once. He was about fourteen years old, and she used to sleep in the same room with him, and “she had seen it stiff.”

“You’ll have her — she has had such a talking to. If she hollows, push a pillow over her face and they won’t hear underneath — but the lodger overhead might be coming up stairs, tho he scarcely ever comes in till twelve o’clock. — I’ll be in the street for him, and come in when he does, we’ll come up the stairs together. — If I hear anything I’ll make a noise and knock at the door, so don’t be frightened — only you’ll have had her before then. — Don’t be nervous or you won’t get a stiff one.” — Sarah had heard from me that once or twice when over excited, my prick had refused to do its duty.

“I have nailed a rug over the door inside and put the chest of drawers against it. — We do that generally in winter to keep out the cold, and go thro the little passage between the bed and sitting room” — which was partly true only. There had been a curtain.

“I told her also you only had an old housekeeper, and were inclined to take her to help. — The girl was delighted.” Sarah had given her a pill (I had taken her a box of common aperients). “She thinks you will soon bring on her poorliness, and that she will be quite a woman then.” — I sometimes wonder if all this preliminary was needful, and if the girl did not know pretty well what she was about, but this is a narrative of facts, and not of opinions.

Altho the maiden had not been a fortnight in the house, she had been as far debauched in mind as she well could be. — To have been told all about fucking, and by a grown woman, to have confessed to that woman, and to a doctor, all she had done with her cunt, to have got money, new boots and stockings and some other things, see the chance of having a place in the house of a doctor, who twice had looked at and felt her cunt, was certainly enough to upset any girl. — It was a fine preparation.

That night she let me in, said her mistress was out and had left no message. “Never mind I will wait.” — I sent her out for shrub, and prepared to try my luck, but felt as nervous as if I were going before a judge for murder — I can’t understand myself being like this, for it is only at times that I am SO.

She had a little shrub. — “Come here dear and tell me about yourself.” — I praised her hair and eyes, which were very good. Taking her between my legs I began feeling her breasts and belly, asking her medical questions all the time, then I lifted her clothes and afterwards said, “Let me see your stockings.” For an instant only she resisted as a girl might.

“Why? I gave them you — I have seen your little cunt and your little bum, have I not, and must look at them now.” — Then I again lifted her clothes, put my hand up, and a finger on her clitoris, and talking all the while, began rubbing it. “Oh Doctor, don’t,” said she wriggling her little cunt away from me. “Ah, it’s pleasure, but nothing like the pleasure you’ll have when a man puts his cock up you,” said I, feeling that the ice must be broken. My prick was getting so rampageous, that I felt inclined to carry her to the bed, and ravish her, but I went on talking.

In a few minutes more “I
must
look at you.” Into the bedroom we went, she took off her clothes, and again I saw her little virgin cunt at the bedside.

However much I may plan an attack on a woman, — there always comes a time when I follow my instincts and not my plan. — When my prick almost feels bursting, and I am overpowered by voluptuousness, I scarcely know what I do, or what course I take. — Then if the woman is not quite ready in her lewedness, and I make a false move, and startle, frighten, or delay, my chance is gone. But if she be lewed, sayings and doings dictated by nature, infallibly win her. There is a strength of will, and a moral force that a man has when he is furious with sexual want, over any woman whose body is tingling with desire for a male, which make him sure of having her.

Up to this time I know all I did, what followed my excited state only leaves the broad incidents clear — I fell kissing her cunt when looking at her, and sitting at the side of the bed. Then I cuddled her, and told all about fucking. — Then on pretext of looking at her once more, got her on to the bed, and placed a pillow so that her bum was on it, experience had taught me that in case of resistance, my prick would have a better chance of entering if her bum was well up. — I got on the bed, pulled out my prick, and said kissing her, “Let me fuck you love, your poorliness will come on then — you’ll want no more medicine, and have such pleasure.” — “No-hoh, no, sir — I mustn’t till I am married — you’ll hurt me. — I mustn’t, Doctor!”

I cuddled her as she attempted to get up, promising money and a silk dress, that I wouldn’t hurt, and that whoever told her it hurt told nonsense. — “No-oh-no,” — but she was nestling in my bosom, and my finger was on the little clitoris. — Suddenly she said, “Will you take me to help as a servant?” — I promised. — In another minute she was on her back. I wetted her cunt with spittle, my prick lay against it, and I feared I should spend before I got it up her. I grasped her bum, pressed her, and drove my prick with all my might. — “Oha-oh-oh,” she cried, each cry louder than the other as my prick battered her virginity. — Another cry, another shove, and I was spending up her. Soon, on putting my hand down, I found that not above an inch and a half of my prick was in her cunt, and my desire was to keep it there. She begged me to get off, but I lay soothing her. My prick kept stiff. The idea that my spunk was in her, the delight at feeling the little hairless cunt lips enclosing my swollen gristle, nerved it again. I gave the gentlest push, then harder, and it glided up until I felt it could go no further.

What a delicious, slow, prolonged fuck. The little cunt smooth with sperm, but so deliciously tight and compressive, and I had first moistened that little interior, broken that virgin barrier, thoughts which increased inexpressibly my voluptuousness. I recollect all I did, and what passed through my brain during the second operation. There was only one alloy to this pleasure. Without making a noise, she kept crying, and I spent kissing her, her tears running down her face. But I am not sure that these evidences of pain and nervous shock did not add to my enjoyment.

I lay in her long, pulling her closer as my penis kept shrinking. — It was delicious to hear her say that there was no longer pain, but — “I don’t know what sort of feeling” — in her cunt. When I thought of the mischief my prick had done, I delighted in using the words cunt, spunk, prick, fuck, and the whole erotic vocabulary, whilst she lay quiet with my prick still in her, listening but making no reply. What a delicious treat for her also.

I cautioned her against moving, till, “Let me wash you, it will prevent soreness, and your husband won’t know what I have done to you.” Girls at that age have implicit faith in a doctor, indeed I have found that most women have.

Candle in hand I opened her thighs, and saw the results of my pleasure. — A mass of blood-streaked sperm filled the mouth of her prick-hole, smears of blood lay between the cunt lips and on the thighs. On my prick was blood where the stem joins the balls, but small in quantity. Gently I pushed my largest finger up her cunt. She winced. I revelled in feeling it thick and pasty inside. — Soon my prick gave a throb, and with a movement, almost a jump, came from the droop to the stiff. I longed to be up her again, but feared my prick would droop before I did so. “Lay still, my little darling.”

She tried to move but too late — “No Doctor H**m**d, you shan’t” — I had lain myself on her and grasped her little bum with both hands and pushed with my prick without guiding it. In a few thrusts it found the right channel, and with one hard shove went clean up her. She gave a little cry and then was quiet. Was the distension now giving her pleasure?

I had spent twice, and to have my prick three times up a cunt in half an hour was a trial — I don’t recollect in all my life, having done such a thing in the same time more than once or twice. But now I have had nearly thirty years good fucking and am in early middle age. It was one thing to get my prick up, and another to finish the fuck. After the first burning excitement had evaporated in a few sharp shoves, a desire to be quiet seized me. — Obeying it I talked to her, and my precious prick, thinking it had done enough began to dwindle. — I felt ashamed, forgetting that the girl could not know whether I had spent, was spending, or was going to spend. — So for half an hour, without my cock leaving her cunt, it kept shrinking, then swelling at some effort, and so on. Now I pushed my fingers well under her little bum cheeks, and feeling the stem of my prick wet, I put her hand down to feel it. Then asked how her cunt felt. — All this did not keep me to full rigidity for long, yet I never once got my cock quite out of her. — There was no superfluous fat outside it, and her cunt was easily got at, and my firm hold of her little buttocks kept it close up to my prick, and so I managed it.

At length she complained that I was making her “ache dreadful.” I thought of rubbing her clitoris, and putting my finger down did so. The girl felt its effects, and so did I — my prick began to feel voluptuous thrills, and as if sperm was in my balls. No doubt the stretching, pushing, and friction of my cock up her little cunt had inflamed her. The rubbing of the clitoris made the sore little cunt hotter. Gently pushing with cock as stiff now as ever, I heard her sigh and saw her eyes close. She was spending — I saw it in her face, felt it by her manner, and by the sensation her cunt suddenly conveyed to my prick — it was the crisis of my night’s enjoyment. — Up her cunt rapidly thrusting before she had recovered, I spent in her again.

I got off of her. She lay seemingly exhausted, did all I told her, and let me do all I wanted — I again washed her cunt, gave her more shrub and she laid down, and went fast asleep for a full hour — I sat down gloriously contented.

It would be an hour and a half before Sarah came back. For an hour during which I read, Emma was still asleep. I pulled up her chemise, and saw the top of the little split peeping out between the closed thighs — I frigged my prick. All I had done, all I meant to do passed through my mind, and at last with much effort I spent, and was done for, for that night and no mistake. What a vagary to indulge in. How can I account for that sudden onanistic letch, I who hate masturbation?

I awakened her — her little quim was swollen and of dark color, the outer lips even I fancied were swollen and irritated. I gloried in the jagged opening made of the little hole of three hours previously, but felt sorry at the depression she was in, for I could now scarcely get her to reply. — Kissing her, promising much, and begging her never to tell any one, I left her.

Sarah was outside. I gave her her money and told her all about it. — Said she, — “The little devil spent! — are you sure?” — Sarah doubted it. — She didn’t know whether to encourage her to tell, or to ask no questions, but get rid of her soon, say she was deaf, was not strong enough, or something else. Sarah had her pay and wanted to be quit of the business.

But I wanted to fuck, to frig, to lick her, show her my cock, teach her the art of love, to learn her virgin ideas and sensations; so said she must keep her, arrange how she liked about knowing or not knowing, but I must have her again or we should quarrel. — Sarah against her will agreed — I was positive, peremptory. Sarah was strong in the desire that I should not see the lass again. Perhaps she was quite right, but I had my wishes to gratify, and did not clearly see Sarah’s reasons.

On the second night after the cunt rupturing, I met Sarah on her beat. The girl had told her all. Sarah had said she was sorry, but what was done, could not be undone — and it was lucky it was with a wise gentleman like Doctor H
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d, or bad consequences would come. — She’d be ruined for life if she told any living soul, and if the doctor wanted to do it again, he must. She should turn her out if she thought she’d mention the affair to any one — or allowed any other man even to kiss, or feel her.

I went quietly enough the next night into the bed room with the lass, and had as much difficulty in getting to look at her cunt as before. But I fucked her, and had the delight of seeing her frig my prick, and watch her looks as it swelled. Then I ejaculated the spunk into her. Afterwards I licked her little cunt till she spent, and much trouble I had to make her come that way — I can’t understand why I tried to set her to frig herself, which she wouldn’t do. — It was a brief honeymoon that and the succeeding nights. — I got her perfect confidence, and this went on nearly every other day for some weeks.

Then I fucked Sarah, and liked her fully developed cunt better than the younger one’s. I began to notice that if not very randy, the little one’s cunt failed to work up my pleasure, whilst Sarah’s big one did. There was indeed but little sympathetic movement in the little one’s cunt, and I could only well get my prick two-thirds up her. — At first it delighted me to thrust till she called out, and her, — “Oh don’t push so far, sir,” — used to fetch my spunk like a shot. — But I grew tired of that, and came to the conclusion, that a good full sized cunt, elastic, fleshy, pulpy, and deep, was the most satisfying to my pego.

Sarah grew tired of keeping the girl for some reason, altho she got two pounds instead of one, each time I saw her. — “The little devil bothers me, she is always asking about you, and about Mr. F
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r. I have made her sleep on the sofa, for I have found her feeling about my cunt when I awakened. — She thinks of nothing but your coming, bothers me to read your baudy books (I had lent some), and would talk of fucking all day — I am frightened to let her go out. I wish you would let her go.” — I had now fucked the lass in every attitude and agreed to it, and told Sarah I would stop away a fortnight.