My Secret Life (72 page)

The white woman watched them with me till they’d finished, and said, “Aren’t you going to fuck me.” — Leaving him spent and silent on the top of the Negress, both reposing after their exercise she having spent seemingly, I went into an adjacent room with her and tailed her. She was either hot arsed that day, or I had pleased her, or the spectacle of the two Negroes copulating had excited her, for she wanted me to tail her again almost directly, which I could not do. I sent out for some liquor, which I could drink as well as she. She was a handsome woman, and it gave me pleasure to sit and talk to her, every now and then feeling her cunt, and looking at her as she sat in various nude attitudes. — She had never seen two blacks fucking before, she told me, saying, “Don’t they look like beasts.” She had been fucked by a black man once but only out of curiosity. She had seen many niggers’ pricks. They all had very large pricks, and were fond of exposing them on the sly to white women, whether
they
wanted to see them or not. Their bodies smelt so that she couldn’t bear them, particularly that very Negro, who if he met her in the street followed her about, begging her to let him have her, and actually with tears at times rolling down his cheeks. — He was a waiter, and fond of the black woman but not she of him. It was in the hopes of fucking one or both of them, which had got him there. So we talked on. — Again she said, “Don’t they look like beasts when doing it.” “If they do they’ve made you lewed.” Seeing others fucking always made her lewed, she replied. — Then having heard all she knew, or could ell about the procreating machines of the Negro race, both male and female, we fucked again. — An hour had run away in this pleasing, instructive conversation. Then we went back to the black couple.

I now quite overcame my foolish nervousness, and again handled his great dark tool and pendants; curiously amused at its dark skinned stem, and its contrast with its tip, red like that of a white man‘s, but perhaps of a little darker red, it was I’m sure nine inches long when it stood. There may be pricks as long as that in white men, but I never saw but one that looked so, tho I’ve seen many. It was scarcely thick in proportion, tho thick enough. Then I wondered if his sperm was the same as a white man’s, and promised him money if he’d let me frig him, he’d only fucked once he said. At first he refused, but persuaded by the Negress he let me, and I frigged him till he spent over the Negress’ belly and cunt. She lay at the side of the bed shewing her cunt, whilst the masturbating operation went on. His sperm was like a white man’s.

She wiped off his semen, washed her cunt, and for a little time his tool hung down. — Directly he had spent I had quite a revulsion of feeling, neither cared about looking at him, nor his tool, paid him and the woman, and was going away when the Negress ask me if I was not going to see him again tail her. — That again stirred my lewedness, so I waited an hour or more, when she handled his tool, till it stiffened again. — She went to the bed, the Negro following her. He placed her at the side of the bed, and began gamahuching her quite spontaneously, neither having been asked to do so by me, nor by either of the women. — I couldn’t resist again feeling his big stiff prick for a minute whilst he gamahuched, for it soon grew stiff again. Then he mounted her, and they fucked like any other mortals; and such are the likes and dislikes which seize me that I couldn’t bear now to look at her cunt, when his great black tool had flopped out of it after he had spent. At a glance there still seemed lots of sperm, tho it was his third spend. She washed her cunt, he his prick, I sent out for more strong liquor which the three drank. I did not touch it. We sat a long time. He with his long drooping tool visible, and the Negress quite naked. Out talk was all about white and black pricks, and cunts, and the nigger then asked me to show him my prick which I refused to do, for which I thought myself a fool when I began to write this.

I had been altogether something like three hours at this curiously varied and exciting amusement and was going away, when I thought I’d like a parting look at his big machine. The white woman lifted up his shirt unasked (for he had put it on) and held it for me to see. — It seemed to amuse her very much to show it to me. Then she tucked up his shirt round his waist, the Negress handled his tool, and I asked her to make it stiff if she could. She succeeded. He stood up quite proud of it, each woman then put a hand round it, and at the same time, I also grasped it. The tip was then just showing inside my fist, so it must have been nine inches long, to have lain with three hands at the same time round the stem. It is difficult to guess the length of anything, and that’s the way how I came to think it full nine inches long.

I paid the Negress and left the room with my white one who excited me to more amorous exercise. As I was going away after paying my white one, — “I’ll just have a look at blackie’s cunt again,” said I, “if she’s there.” “I expect she’s gone out,” said Whitey. But opening the door, there was the nigger on the top of her, ramming away so furiously that the bed shook violently, and both were chattering, gasping, and snorting in such a way as I never heard a man and woman before or since when fucking. They were five minutes at it I should think whilst we stood looking. At last they spent, his prick came out wet and limp, and then I left. I had not paid him anything excepting for frigging him. I rather think as was told me that he came for the poke. — But I don’t know how they divided my money. I gave it all to the Negress.

A few days after I had that black woman together with the white one, and put my prick first into one, then the other, to see if my prick noticed any difference. I spent in the nigger but didn’t like her. — She told me in broken English all about “Big Negro man” — and it was what the white woman had told me before. She let him do what he liked that day, because feeling my white prick had made her randy, she said. “Me likes white man — not black.”

It is the only time I ever felt a black man’s tool, or saw a Negro and Negress copulate, but I saw some of their long pricks afterwards in a pendant state, at a bathing place, and also at places where some working in water exposed themselves. It gave me no amusement to do so that I can recollect. All their pricks were I think when tranquil and pendant much longer than those of Englishmen, whose pricks in every condition I have seen many.

What struck me as most peculiar was that his prick, when stiff and hard, did not stand so upright as a white man’s does, but seemed to stick out more horizontally from his belly. — Both women said that all black men’s tools did. I wonder why. Perhaps it’s their length and weight, which makes them bend forward. Negresses’ cunts should be deep to take such long procreators up them. I wonder if they are so.

A light-haired Irish bitch.
—
Foul-tongued and hot-arsed.
—
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.
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About sodomites and catamites.
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Buggers’ sphincters.
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Her friend’s catamitic tastes.
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Sodomy cum gamahuche.
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Reflexions on the change in my erotic tastes.
—
An artist in lewedness.

 

[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 pair 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 invitingly. 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. — “Com 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 — com — shure an I loike the looks of you — I’m close by — com.” 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 — com 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 as 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 arsehole. — 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, ready 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. — “Dam 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 — com 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 issue 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.