My Secret Life (23 page)

“Are you ill?” said she. “Yes,” said I, overjoyed with the suggestion, “a faintness came over me, and a giddyness, — I shall be better directly.”

She believed it, gave me cold water, and we sat for a time. I looked at her beautifully white neck, thought how white her bum must be, tried to get the black stockings out of my head, but could not. It must have been past four o’clock in the morning when I asked her to lie down again, but she refused; the spell had been broken, the weakness gone, and she said she should go to bed.

“Is your bum as white as your neck?” said I. “Laura says I am the whitest-fleshed woman she ever saw, all the girls at school used to say so.”

In my mind’s eye I saw the white bum and thighs, my lust came back at a rush. “Let me see it,” I said, and I laid hold of her. The flood-gates of my bawdiness were loosened, and as she afterwards told me, I let fly a torrent of voluptuous words, enough to have excited the passions of all the women in London. I had forgotten the stockings. She kept refusing, denying, and evading me. “Hish! Hish! Laura will hear you.” Laura did, and came in in her night-gown. “I came to see if you had gone to bed,” said she. “You need not have troubled yourself,” said Mabel. “As long as you’re here I shall look after you; when you’re at home you can do as you like.” “I’m quite old enough to take care of myself.” They quarrelled. Mabel resented her interference. Fred roared out from his bed-room, “What the devil are you going in there for?” and Laura not replying, came in in his night-shirt. After an altercation Fred and Laura went back to bed.

Then Mabel said she should go to bed, must go up for five minutes, but would be down again. “To piddle eh?” Taking off my boots I blew out one candle, took the other, followed her, and opened the door. She was on the piss-pot. I closed the door, and locked it. Five minutes afterwards I was on the bed fucking her with her legs in black stockings, and five minutes afterwards uncunting, the first words I said were, “I loathe black stockings.”

“I can’t bear them myself,” said she, “but I am in mourning.” People in mourning wore black stockings then.

She was anxious for me to go, so that Laura could say nothing positive, whatever she might think. I would directly I had her again. We got into the bed together, and I had her, and then again. That is all I recollect, and that after the fuck we both fell asleep, and were awakened by a knock at the door. It was late in the morning, and broad daylight, Laura was knocking. I opened the door. Laura looked at me, and then at Mabel, and said, “Well, the sooner I send you back the better.” There was a somewhat bitter row between them, short but sharp, in which Mabel gave as good as she got. Laura went away. Mabel turned round and wept; then we fucked, and went to sleep again.

This is the only point in my history with Mabel much worth noting, except that when I knew her from top to bottom, and found she got out of bed, and washed her cunt after my sperming it, I asked her, “Why did you not wash the first night?” “Because it’s unlucky,” said she, and I never got any more out of her; but she had known the sensation of a prick in her cunt before mine, that I found out the first night.

A frolic at Lord A
^***
’s.
—
After dinner.
—
Newspaper readings.
—
A strange rape.
—
Bets on pricks.
—
Pricks felt.
—
Fred on his head.
—
Beds on the floor.
—
Free fucking.
—
End of the orgie.

For brevity I compress the events of the next few months; it is a pity, but it would print to three the length otherwise. I was mostly in London. One or two funny whoring incidents I must leave out altogether, and for the same reason: brevity.

An intimate friend of Fred’s was Lord A
^***
, he lived with a lady who was called Lady A
^***
. I don’t think she had been gay, and in that respect resembled Laura and Mabel. The three women were much together. We often saw Lord A
^***
, and all became friends. Lord A
^***
was not very true to his lady. He lived in B
^*
t
^*
n Street, where he had at that time the whole of a handsomely furnished house, but only could half occupy it. His in-door servants were a middle-aged woman who cooked, a maid who was her niece, and his valet, who waited at table as well. A woman who did not sleep in the house came daily. He had grooms and a coachman, but not in the house. Lord A
^***
had quarrelled with his father. He had been in the Guards, and drank very freely.

He invited us one night to dinner, and gave a splendid one. By the time we had finished, we were all noisy. It was never our custom to use baudy language when in each other’s company, Laura had a great aversion to it. Mabel liked me to talk baudy to her, but did not talk it herself. Fred always after dinner would let out a warm word or so, and was at once snubbed by Laura. For all that our conversation after dinner was generally warm with
double entente.

On the night in question our conversation got to open voluptuousness. Fred and Lord A
^***
went in for it, Mabel laughed, Laura hished and hished, said she would leave, but at last gave way, as did Lady A
^***
; then we men got to lewedness. Whenever any sensuous allusion was made, my eyes sought Laura’s, hers seeking mine; we were both thinking of the quiet and quick fuck we had, with Mabel snoring by our side. We compared our thoughts on that night, but at a future day.

Just at that time a case filled the public journals. It was a charge of rape on a married woman, against a man lodging in the same house. She was the wife of a printer on the staff of a daily paper, who came home extremely late; she always went to bed leaving her door unlocked, so that her husband might get in directly he came home. The lodger was a friend of her husband’s, and knew the custom of leaving the door unlocked, — in fact he was a fellow-printer.

She awakened in the night with the man between her thighs, had opened them readily, thinking it was her husband. It appears to have been her habit, and such her husband’s custom on returning home, or so she said. The lodger had actually all but finished his fuck, before she awakened sufficiently to find out that it was not the legitimate prick which was probing her. Then she alarmed the house, and gave the man in charge for committing a rape. The papers delicately hinted that the operation was complete before the woman discovered the mistake, — but of course it left much to the reader’s imagination.

Fred read this aloud. I knew more, for the counsel of the prisoner was my intimate friend. He had told me that the prisoner had had her twice, that she had spent with him; that he had often said he meant to go in, and have her, that she had dared him to do it, and that she only made a row when she thought she heard her husband at the door on the landing, although it was two hours before his usual time of return. His prick was in her when she began her outcry.

With laughter and smutty allusions we discussed the case. “Absurd,” said Laura, “she must have known it was not her husband.” “Why?” “Why because — ,” and Laura stopped. “If you were asleep, and suddenly felt a man on you of about my size, and his prick up you, very likely you would not tell if it were mine or not,” said Fred. Laura threw an apple at his head. Decency was banished from that moment, a spade was called a spade, and unveiled baudiness reigned.

“I should know if it were not you,” said Lady A
^***
looking at Lord A
^***
. “How?” “Ah! I should, — should you not know another woman from Laura, if you got into bed with two women in the dark?” said she to Fred. “I am not sure for the moment if with a woman just for size, and as much hair on her cunt,” said he. “I tell you what Fred, I won’t have it,” said Laura ill-tempered, “talk about someone else, I won’t have beastly talk about me.” “I’ll bet,” said I, “that if the ladies were to feel our pricks in the dark, they would not tell whose they each had hold of.” Roars of laughter followed. “I should like to try,” said Mabel. “So should I,” said another. “Would you know, if you felt us?” said one woman. “If I felt all your cunts in the dark, I’ll bet I should know Marie’s,” said Lord A
^***
. “That is, if you felt all round and about,” said Fred, “but not if she opened her legs, and you only felt the notch.” “I think I should.” “Why? — Is she different from others?” Lord A
^***
was going to say something, when Marie told him to shut up.

So we went on, the men in lascivious language, the women in more disguised terms, discussing the probabilities of distinguishing cunts or pricks by a simple feel in the dark. Each remark caused roars of laughter, the women whispered to each other, and laughed at their own sayings. Lewedness had seized us all, the women’s eyes were brilliant with voluptuous desire. More wine was drunk. “Call it by its proper name,” said Lord A
^***
when Marie remarked that a woman must know her own man’s thing. “Prick then.” “I will bet five pounds that Mabel would not guess my prick in the dark, if she felt all of us,” said I. “And I’ll bet,” said another. “Shall we try?” said Fred. “Yes,” said Mabel, more fuddled than the rest. Baudier and baudier, we talked, laughed, and drank, and at length set to work to make rules for trying, all talking at once.

One proposed one way, one another. “I can’t tell unless I feel balls as well,” said a woman. “Will they be stiff when we feel?” said another. “Mine will,” said Fred, “it’s stiff already.” “So is mine,” added I.

“How shall we know where to put our hands, if we are in the dark?” said Lady A
^***
. “If a man is in front of you, you will find it fast enough,” answered someone. Laura had now yielded to the baudy contagion, and made no objection, though Mabel and Lady A
^***
were the most forward. Then Lord A
^***
rang the bell, and told his valet he might go out for the night, and his house-keeper and maid they might go to bed, which they did at the top of the house, as we supposed. The sequel proved that to be doubtful, and that they must have had a most edifying night.

After lewed squabbles we arranged that each man was to give the woman if she guessed the prick right, ten pounds; the men were to be naked, the women to feel all the men’s cocks, and give a card to him whose prick she thought she knew. The room was to be dark. No man was to speak, or give any indication by laughing, coughing, or any other way, under penalty of paying all the bets. The women were to lose if they spoke, or gave indications of who they were.

I took three cards, and wrote the name of a lady on each of them. Then each lady took her card, and they went upstairs to the bed-room pell-mell and laughing. The women were to stand of a row in a certain order against a side of the room, we to follow in an order they did not know. They were to feel all pricks twice, each giving her card to the man at the second feel, if she knew the prick. We undressed to our shirts, took off our rings, so as to leave no indications, and in that condition entered the room. The dining-room door we closed, there was no light on the first-floor lobby, nor in the bed-room, for we had put out the fire there. So holding each other by the shoulder, we entered, closed the door, and we were all in the room together in the dark.

We lifted our shirts, and closed on the women, each of whom in her turn felt our pricks. One felt mine as if she meant to pull it off. On the second feeling, we got somehow mixed, a slight tittering of women began, some one hished, and the tittering ceased Two hands touched me at the same time, but one withdrew directly she touched the other’s hand. A card was put into my hand, afterwards another card touched me, and was withdrawn. After waiting a minute I nudged the man next me. “Have you all given cards?” shouted out the man. “Yes,” shouted the three women at once. Then we all burst out laughing, and the men went downstairs, leaving the women all talking at once like Bedlam broke loose.

Looking at our cards, we found that each woman had guessed rightly her man’s prick; but we changed our cards, and called out to the women who came rushing down like mad. “Not one of you has guessed right,” said I, “you have all lost your bets.” “I’ll swear I’m right,” said Lady A
^***
, “it’s Adolphus that I gave my card to.” This set us all questioning at once. “What makes you so sure?” “She says it’s very long and thin,” said Mabel, “and so it is.” “Hold your tongue,” said Marie. “I felt it,” said Mabel. “They all seemed the same to me,” said Laura, “and one of you pushed my hand away.” “It was I,” said Fred, “you wanted to feel too much, you nearly frigged me.” “Oh! What a lie.” Then we told the truth, and that each woman had won, which caused much noisy satisfaction, then we had more wine, we men still with naked legs.

I have told all I can recollect with exactitude, but there was lots more said and done. Fred pulled up Lord A
^***
’s shirt, his cock was not stiff. “That’s not as it was when I felt it,” said Mabel. “You’ve guessed pricks, but for all that you would not know who fucked you in the dark.” “We should,” cried out all the women. “Let’s try,” said Lord A
^***
. “All right,” said Mabel. “We are not prostitutes,” said Laura. “A little free fucking will be jolly, let’s take turns about all round,” said Fred. Then the room resounded with our laughter, all spoke baudily at once, every second, “prick,” “cunt,” “fuck,” was heard from both men and women, — it was a perfect Babel of lasciviousness.

“I’ll bet ten pounds a woman doesn’t guess who fucks her,” said Lord A
^***
. We echoed him. The women laughed, but led by Laura, refused, and squabbled. All wanted the bet to come off, but did not like to admit it. We had more champagne, the men put on their trowsers, we kissed all round, and talked over the way of deciding such a bet, the women got randier, one showed her leg to another, and at length all the women agreed to take part in the orgie.

The rest I shall tell as truthfully as I can. The drink and excitement I was under makes it difficult; but I will tell nothing I am not quite sure of. We arranged a plan with such noise and talking, that God knows how it was arranged at all. Where were we to poke?
—
in the bed-room? Impossible, there was but one large bed in Lady A
^***
’s room, and one in the back-room. How were we to fuck all together? We all rushed upstairs, took all the beds and pillows from both rooms, and from the upper rooms, and put them on the floor in the large room, making one long bed, after moving aside the furniture. The fire had been put out. All this was done with shouts and yells, a fearful lascivious riot.