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Authors: Anonymous

My Secret Life (73 page)

BOOK: My Secret Life
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Tho I disliked her lewed imprecations they now stirred my lust extraordinarily. She kept me up to her as I leant over her, gently working her quim and buttocks. “Kiss me love — don’t pull it out — there shure and I’ll stiffen it again in me chunt, if your ballocks are close up to me. — Can’t you
fuck
just — haven’t I spent? the spunks squeezing out. — Begorra ye’ve spent thick, and lots, and hot, ye spalpeen. — Don’t pull it out me darlin — kiss me — you’ve not kissed me, look what foine teeth I have. — Shove your tongue into my mouth. — Oh keep your prick up me hot chunt — put your finger up my arsehole when you fuck again.” “No.” “Whoy, whoy won’t you? (as I refused) Don’t then me darlin. — Don’t you never do so when yer fucking? Oh ye spalpeen ye do — I love it, love me both me holes full — chunt and arse hole. — There now it’s out — whoy didn’t ye keep it up me hot chunt.” — Thus she went on as nearly as written without stopping, all being said, and acted with surprizing energy whilst still she was holding me tightly to her, as I bent over her standing at the side of the bed, without uttering more than a word or two in reply to her, and, standing wondering, amused and almost silent.
It slipped out, the copulation was broken. “Take off your clothes and come on to the bed and lie down wid me, and we’ll fuck agin ye spalpeen in foive minutes — we will, be Jasus. Look at me chunt — look at your spunk — it’s wet — it is — ain’t your spunk thick,” said she examining her finger after a feel. — I didn’t like that, yet she had made me lewed. She had accompanied words with deeds, and as quickly as she had spoken, she had turned herself in all attitudes — on to her belly, then buttocks, had opened her thighs, threw her legs quite high up in the air, and other antics just as before, showed me her armpits and teeth, and pulled the cunt wide open to show the libation overflowing from it — all unasked by me; and interlarding her acts, with expressions of strong desire for me.
I now fully excited, stood pulling off my clothes rapidly, and dropping them on the floor by the side of me, silent, unable to resist the fascination of her carnalities and take my eyes off of her. — “Oh look at your spunk in my chunt” said she again. — “Shure and I’m longing for more of it — many a chunt you’ve filled I’ll swear — ain’t my breasts beautiful? you shall spend between them some day. — Make haste me darlin — if you don’t I’ll frig me — I will by Jesus, I’m mad to have it up me agin — come.” Then we got on to the bed.
I covered her, I rubbed my tool outside in the overflowing sperm, and was in a few minutes spending with her, with my tongue in her mouth and trying to perforate her bum hole with my finger. After she had shouted out, “Fill me chunt — fuck it — ballocks it well — bugger. — Now. — Shove harder. — I’m spending — ahrr — arsehole.” — “Dams and bloodies” in endless combinations she cried, and it had such an effect on me, that I cried out baudy words with her. Never in my life have I heard such a woman. The words from her struck me as abominably foul and obscene, tho some of the words have not, when sweeter, loving women have murmured them with me in our sensual paroxysms — and yet the Irish bitch excited me.
This fuck quieted her — seemed to subdue her — I still laid on her, she still sucking my tongue, or wetting her lips with her spittle, rubbing them on mine, holding my head with one hand, pressing it towards hers, and rubbing her other rapidly, quite rapidly up and down my back and buttocks, as far as her hand would reach; as if she couldn’t feel enough of me. — “By me soul and you fuck beautiful — beautiful be Jasus,” said she at last. “Sure an we’ll do it agin, — a rale man and you are shure. Do you loike me? — your hair’s sticking to me chunt.” — Smack squash — and moving her cunt a little back, our mottes unjoined, and the glutinous exudations which adhered to our fleshy prominences where they had met so closely made that expressive noise as our genitals partly separated, as she moved her belly when my prick was dwindling out of her split.
Her quick movements, and the fanciful but foul things she said, had so heated me, so libidinously excited me, that I scarcely knew what I was about. “Yes,” I replied, “let’s look at your cunt.” — I had scarcely seen it in my emotion. — “Look my bhoy” — I rose on my knees, she relinquishing my rump, and I looked. “Your hair’s the same color as on your head.” “Yes, and are my armpits.” — She threw up her arms. — “Don’t you like the colour?” — I said — “yes” — but I didn’t. — It was a peculiar, sandy red color. — I never before saw an Irish woman with that coloured hair, and told her that most Irish had dark hair. “Shure I’m true emerald.” She was, as said, very beautifully formed, and had marvellously white flesh. — I threw up her legs, and saw from her heels to her buttocks.

“I’m beautiful made shure and I am, arnt I?” said she, putting her hands round her thighs to keep her legs up.
I looked and gloated. There was her cunt almost foaming with pearly mucilage. — “Lie down me darlin,” — and I did. — She laid hold of my prick and frigged it. — “Oh put it in me — do then.

I’ll just take a dale of it tonight — I’m wild just. — A bhoy like you will just make her happy — whoy — I’ve not slept for two nights, I’ve left one of my boxes at Birmingham — I ran away — I’d no money — I would not stay to be ill thraited — but the first money I get I’ll be after it — I pawned me watch to pay my week’s lodgings here this very day, sure and I hadn’t enough money to pay me cabman. Pay down the first week says the landlady, or it’s no good yer laving your box here. — Wait a minute, ma’am, where’s a pawnbroker’s? and me and me box and the carman went to pawn me watch.”
“You’ve been drinking,” I said, thinking at last that it must be so.

Not she. “By the Holy Mother.

Divil a drap

you’re a queer chap, don’t you loike me? — now you don’t loike me — I’ll wash my chunt and you’ll like it better.” She was twiddling my cock then, but left off, jumped off the bed like lightning, and began washing — I washed my appendages also, and was going to dress. “Shure and yer not going to lave me yet, shure and you shan’t till ye’ve done it agin.” “I can’t again,” said I. — She gave me a rapid push, which sent me on to a chair with such force was it given, and kneeling down began to suck my prick. — “Sure and I’ll make it stiff in a jiffey. What a lovely prick, and my first in London — Oh Jesus may it bring me luck — and I haven’t had a fuck for a week. By the Holy Virgin I’ll have another fuck.” Sucking hard, and jerking out these sentences at short intervals with much intensity, and with that and her baudy talk, she in time made me stiff, put it into her cunt herself impatiently, and I gave her another libation. She rattled out the same lascivious cries but less energetically, and I noticed that tho she talked lewedly when we were not in action, that her most outrageous, unrestrained exclamations, were only uttered when she was fucking.
She began again telling her history of running away from Dublin. — “I’d been murdered shure had I staid, it’s God’s truth I tell ye, and I pawned me watch to pay the lodgings here and me cab.” — Then she wanted to treat me to whiskey and water. — What would I have. — Then she mounted me as I lay tired on my back, kissing me, and rubbing her cunt on to my flabby cock, I could not stop her. — She talked the foulest baudiness, and said her poorliness was just coming on. — Wasn’t it unlucky, just as she’d come so poor and wanted to get some friends. — She loved a man about her. “Sure God,” she did, but hadn’t had one for a week, she’d had enough to do to dodge them and get away. “Hide and seek and fucking don’t go together.” But she was safe now she was in London — I got now curious and tried to learn something more, but she shut up at once. — In her lewed excitement it was pleasure to gabble on and let out a bit of her story, but the cunning jealous secrecy of a harlot returned. — Her fear of being detected, of telling too much, shut her mouth. — I thought, and had no doubt, she’d run away from Ireland to get clear of some scrape.
I couldn’t get away from the woman, she sent for whiskey and I drank with her. She frigged and sucked me stiff again, and I fucked her spite of myself — listening — disliking — yet excited. — When fucked out I left. — “Another kiss,” said she following me to the door of her room, and pushing her tongue in my mouth. “Feel my cunt again for luck.” — I did, promising at her earnest entreaty to see her again. “Never mind the cash me darlin — I loike your fucking — sure and ye’ll bring me luck,” said she as we parted.
I set myself afterwards to repeat what the woman shrieked out in her sexual ecstasy, for she was thoroughly enjoying me, and the sayings and baudy utterances rang in my ears — I did not like them, but kept repeating them to myself, laughing at them even — I went with another woman a day or two after, and as my pleasure increased when my body was joined to hers, I shouted out some of the salacities — it stimulated me. — “Oh ain’t you a going on,” said she. — “Say fuck, ballocks.” — “I shan’t” — then — “oh don’t make such a noise, or they will hear you up stairs.” — But I would. — That giving way to lascivious utterances helped my fatigued ballocks very much.

I’d been with some woman who was out and out baudy, I told this to this woman. I had no reason for hiding it, and told her all. — “A dirty beast,” said she. — Some women are naturally baudy and lewed in talk, others are not. — As among harlots so among ladies. I have known some whom I never could induce to use love words frankly — others soon revelled in them.
I saw the Irish woman once or twice in Coventry Street afterwards, but got out of her way. — She always pulled her petticoats up as high as she dared to show her lovely limbs and walked very rapidly. Tho I did not like her, for all that I went home with her once again. She kissed me in the street when I spoke to her, and talked so loudly, that passers-by stared at us — so calling her a fool, I turned away and went up a side street. — She came to me and then I followed her home. — There she again baudied and shrieked out when fucking, the most original salacities and obscenities, and spent with me, and then frigged me up and sucked me to her heart’s content; telling me how she had got on, and what a man did to her, and what he had given her, how she meant still to get her trunk from Birmingham. She hadn’t yet. — Altogether she went on almost like an erotic maniac and I was glad when I got away.
I saw her once or twice in the streets afterwards, but she did not see me; then I lost sight of her. I don’t think that altogether she was about the West End a month — I must have seen her had she been about longer. I have never met such a foul tongued woman in my life before, she must have been bred and born amongst the lowest. — I haven’t told a tenth part of her original erotic sayings, and combinations of baudiness and blasphemy. It seemed to me that when her sensual pleasure came on, that she scarcely knew what she said; that every baudy and blasphemous word she’d ever heard, came struggling up together to describe and emphasize the pleasure she felt in her cunt. — I told her of it. — She said it was my fault, and that she didn’t cry out so with other men, it was the intense pleasure I gave. “I’ll swallow your spunk and drink your piss if you like,” said she. I didn’t believe a word she said.
[Once since, at a French brothel, I found an Irish woman, who certainly was more highly obscene than her sisters there. One French woman said she was the greatest “Cochonne” in the house, and all the women were afraid of her.
[The disappearance of Sarah was a great loss to me as I recollect well. She was a quiet woman and handsome, her form good, her cunt gave me the fullest and most complete pleasure, she indulged my lewedness, and when intimacy was established took herself the greatest pleasure in lascivieties with me. — She procured me virgins whom she delighted in fingering, and with two of them in flatfucking, and a man who jointly amused us. In occasional orgies at brothels, she several times got me other free and easy harlots, but about which orgies I have destroyed the manuscript, as I did with the women only what I have done with others. — Her lodgings I could mostly go to, and believe I was the only man who did, and I missed the means of indulging my tastes in those quiet rooms with a willing ministress to them. — Moreover she was not always plaguing me for money — asking me to pay this, or to lend her to pay that — which is the common habit and trick of harlots from high to low — I felt at sea when Sarah was gone, and recollect that for a month or so I was chaste.]
Then I sought Camille — I had seen her thrice only I find whilst I had known Sarah F
**
z
*
r, and had some difficulty in finding her out. — She was not so young, but was splendidly preserved. Tho fatter, her soft skin, soft voice and quiet laugh, in brief all her good qualities were unchanged, and I rushed my eager pego into her still delicious cunt, and clasped her exquisitely soft backside with the delight of former days. She had been away from England two years or so, having saved money, with which in her native country she had either bought or set up a licensed house for whoring. It had not succeeded, she had lost all, and had come back here to harlotry. — She cried as she told me about her losses, then began to smoke a cigarette (formerly she did not smoke). She smiled and said it was fate, that there was always water or charcoal to be had when she was old or tired of life. — She was seemingly not so well off as formerly, but said she had a good clientele mostly of married men who paid well, and didn’t stop long. She did not go into the street much, for her friends expected always to find her at home. I spent two or three hours delightfully with her talking over old times. — It was no use disguising her age from me, and one other Monsieur who also knew her when she first came to London, the only two, she said; but she took off a few years to new friends when they asked her age. She now spoke excellent English. [Fifteen years later she was alive, and as nice as ever in manner — but she was old and poor, and very often I assisted her.]
Much as I liked, I didn’t keep to Camille. I went there when I wanted a quiet chat and information about sexualities (not that I wanted much of that). I find a memorandum of a talk with her, about the effect that continued buggering had upon the arseholes of the buggerees. She thought it detrimental to them ultimately, and had heard so, but the men were reticent on the subject. — About tastes for that abnormal amusement — that there were decidedly those men who enjoyed being operated on — catamites by taste, by nature perhaps; she thought owing to some anatomical difference, or sexual infirmity.
BOOK: My Secret Life
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