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My Secret Life (78 page)

BOOK: My Secret Life
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[This will be seen and the lustful amusements we both enjoyed described — nothing I have done with any other woman which I did not do with her. One fancy begot another, and erotic conceptions crept on us gradually.]
She said that she’d never done such things with another man — not even with the man she’d once loved, who had kept her, — nor with those she’d lusted for — for she had strong likings — that men had never suggested strange letches to her. I expect she alone indulged with me in them, because sensuously our temperaments were the same. She matched me in lasciviousness, and moreover knew there was not the slightest chance of my divulging our erotic tricks, to either man or or woman.
Many who have not tasted our sexual pleasures will call them beastly. They are not. But what if they are? — What are all the physical functions of man and woman, what are chewing, drinking, spitting, snotting, urinating, farting? — What is copulation? is that beastly? — Certainly it is what beasts do. — They will call that natural perhaps, but it’s a purely animal act, tho not specially beastly to me. — What is a woman’s cunt? — feel it when not recently washed, or when the prick has just left it and the semen is lying thick inside and out. Is that beastly or not? What is the joining of two tongues, the mixing of salivas, the gluing of two mouths together when fucking? — beastly? But there is no harm in these it will be said, it’s natural. — Be it so. — So are other erotic amusements equally natural and not more beastly. — What more harm in a man’s licking a woman’s clitoris to give her pleasure, or of she sucking his cock for the same purpose, both taking pleasure in giving each other pleasure. So if a man plugs a woman’s bum-hole with his finger when they are copulating or gamahuching, and so with other sensual devices and fancies, they are all equally natural tho many may not enjoy them. — All are permissible if a couple do them for mutual delight,
and are no more beastly than simple human copulation,
which is the charm of life, — the whole object of life, — and indulged in by all as much as their physical powers permit — yet it’s not thought
beastly.
Imagination plays a most important part in all acts of love and
lust,
which are nearly if not quite synonymous terms. All human affections are generated by the act of copulation and its preliminaries. — It is the dull boor, to whom a woman is warm flesh with a hole for fucking and no more — the man who has no imagination, — who is incapable of highly wrought sensual delights and fucks when his seed makes his cock restive, — only thinking of his woman
then,
and rumps her directly he has done with her — who is the beast
— for he only does exactly what the beast, the animal does, and no more.
— The couples blest with imagination, they who by various excitements of which a mere animal is not capable, bring fucking to intellectual height, make it a dream of the senses, make lust and love in its sensuous elevation ethereal, a poetic delirium, —
they are not the beasts.
But reduce coition to the mere act, and the inevitable sequel of the seed laying in the cunt, and the prick dwindling out wet and flaccid — at once that couple are brought to level of
beasts,
and of those stupid asses who in their incapability of doing more than the horse, the hog and the dog, those who rut and ruddle like every other animal from a louse to an elephant, — such are the
beasts,
and not those who worshipping Eros, raise fucking by their imagination and sensuous preliminaries almost to a divine level.
H*l*n and I after a time laughed to scorn the crude notions of those animal idiots, who think that all is
beastly
excepting simply putting a cock into a cunt —
which is what beasts usually alone do,
— and amused ourselves erotically as we liked. I wholly for love and lust, she for the same and perhaps also a little for money, — all women are alike in that — but at length she indulged with me in Paphian pleasures for love alone — for our mutual satisfaction.
Henceforth the right initials of my women will not be given always, indeed have not been for two or three years past, as the actresses are probably living. The bagnios will also not be clearly indicated, public improvements and public purity!!! have destroyed most of the best central ones, public morals being seemingly not much bettered. — The cosy haunts of Venus, are now nearer the suburbs.
My casual amours with the mercenary fair ones, were also becoming fewer as my intimacy with H*l*n M***w**d increased, for she satisfied gradually every voluptuous desire. Her desires were in fact as comprehensive as my own, tho for a long time she hid them from me; partly thro the habit and cunning of her craft, partly (tho absurd it may seem) thro a strange dislike to disclose her temperament. She however became a willing partner with me in the most erotic frolics. I did not altogether omit my opportunities with women who were not gay, my sexual strength being still good, tho not quite so strong as formerly, and having always taken care of myself, did not look within ten years of my age, and (it must be said) was thought handsome, tho I never thought so myself. Thus I had still good chances of liaisons, tho only able to avail myself of few of those. After a time she told me of hers. I also had occasional orgies with harlots, all of which freaks I told her of. There was indeed good comradeship between us, that of a man and woman who can freely disclose their
lusts,
to each other, or say
love,
for lust and love are synonymous viewed physically, and whatever morality may say about them. The law defines in a degree their relative meanings, but
law
cannot alter the sexual nature of things, cannot alter human instincts.
Occasional amusements brought me on to late spring, then one night at the A*g**e rooms, H*l*n M***w**d spoke to me. I had several times been there solely to look at her, each time she seemed more beautiful than ever, yet beyond nodding or saying, “How do you do,” we held no conversation, for she was always surrounded by men. I used to sit thinking of her charms with swollen pego, then either found outside a lady, or once or twice selected one in the room, so that H*I*n could see, and ostentatiously quitted the salon with her. I felt a savage pleasure in doing so. — A species of senseless revenge.
Sitting by my side, “You’ve not been to see me again.” — “No.” — “Why?’ — “I’m not rich enough.” — “Nonsense, you’ve got some other woman.” — “None.” — “Come up.” — “No, I’ll let no woman ruin me.” — We conversed further, she got close to me, her sweet smell penetrated me, and spite of myself I promised to see her next day.
She had changed her abode, had a larger house, three servants and a brougham. I had a sleepless night thinking of coming felicity, and on a lovely spring afternoon, hot as if in the midst of summer, she was awaiting me with an open silk wrapper on, beneath it but a laced chemise so diaphanous, that I could see her flesh and the color of her motte through it. Her exquisite legs were in white silk, and she’d had the nattiest kid boots on her pretty little, well cambered feet. She was a delicious spectacle in her rooms, through the windows of which both back and front were green trees and gardens.
“Say I’m not home to any one,” said she to the maid. Then to me, “So you have come.” — “Did you doubt me?” — “No, I think you’re a man who keeps his word.” Then on the sofa we sat, and too happy for words I kissed her incessantly. She got my rampant cock out and laughing said, “It’s quite stiff enough.” — “Let me feel you love,” said I putting my hand between her thighs. — “Why don’t you say, cunt?” — again I was silent in my voluptuous amusement, kissing and twiddling the surface of her adorable cleft. “Oh let us poke.” — “Why do you say poke — say fuck,” she said moving to the bed and lying down.
“Let me look at your lovely cunt.” She moved her haunches to the bedside and pulled her chemise well up, proud of her beauty. Dropping on my knees I looked at the exquisite temple of pleasure, it was perfection, and in a second my mouth was glued to it. I licked and sucked it, I smelt it and swallowed its juice. I could have bitten and eaten it, had none of dislike to the saline taste which I’ve had with some women, no desire to wipe the waste saliva from my mouth as it covered the broad surface of the vulva in quantity, but swallowed all, it was nectar to me, and sucked rapturously till, “That will do I won’t spend so — fuck me” — said she jutting her cunt back from my mouth.
Quickly I arose and was getting on the bed when, “No — take your things off — all off, — be naked, it’s quite hot — I’ll shut the window,” which she did, and throwing off her chemise sat herself at the edge of the bed till I was ready. — “Take off your shirt.” — As I removed it, she laid on the bed with thighs apart, the next second my pego was buried in her, and our naked bodies with limbs entwined were in the fascinating movements of fucking. What heaven, — what paradise! — but alas, how evanescent. In a minute with tongues joined, I shed my seed into that lovely avenue, which tightened and spent its juices with me. She enjoyed it, for she was a woman voluptuous to her marrow, my naked form had pleased her I was sure, not that she said that then, she was too clever a Paphian for that.
We lay tranquilly in each other’s arms till our fleshy union was dissolved. She then

as she washed

“Aren’t you going to wash?”

“I’ll never wash away anything which has come out of your cunt you beautiful devil, let it dry on, I wish I could lick it off.”

“You should have licked me before I washed my cunt, you baudy beast,”

she rejoined laughing.
She then came and stood naked by the bedside.

“Aren’t you going to get up?”

fearing her reply. “Let me have you again,”

I said.

She laughed and gave me a towel

“Dry your prick — you can’t do it again.”

“Can’t I,

look?” My pego was nearly full size. She got on to the bed, laid hold of it, and passed one thigh over my haunch, my fingers titillated her clitoris for a minute, and so we lay lewedly handling each other. Then our bodies were one again, and a fuck longer, more intense in its mental pleasure, more full of idealities, more complete in its physical enjoyment to me, was over within a quarter of an hour after I had had her the first time. — Nor did she hurry me, but we lay naked, with my prick in her lovely body, in somnolence of pleasure and voluptuous fatigue, a long time, speechless.
Both washed, she piddled (how lovely she looked doing it), put on her chemise and I my shirt. Recollecting my first visit and her hurry, “Now I suppose you want your fiver and me to clear out.” — said I bitterly and taking hold of my drawers, for I felt a love almost for
her
and sad that I was only so much money in her eyes. — “I didn’t say so, lie down with me.” — Side by side on the bed we lay again.
She was now inquisitive. Hadn’t I really a lady whom I visited, she knew that I’d had Miss ****** and Polly **** I had had, she’d spoken about me to them. — Why didn’t I see
her.
Hadn’t I a lady, now tell her — I only repeated what’s already told. — Then the vulgar money business cropped up. — No, she never had and never would let a man have her, for less than a fiver. Going to a drawer, she showed me a cheque for thirty pounds and a letter of endearments. “That’s come today, and he only slept with me two nights.”
She’d soon again my soft yet swollen cunt stretcher in her hand, and fingered it deliciously, never a woman more deliciously. I felt her clitoris, and kissed her lovely neck and cheeks almost unceasingly. — “Give me a bottle of phiz,” said she after a minute’s silence — I complied. — “It’s a guinea mind.” — “Preposterous, I’m not in a baudy house.” — “It’s my price, my own wine, and splendid.” — Of course I yielded, who would not when such a divinity was fingering and soothing his prick? It was excellent, we drank most of it soon, and then she gratified me after much solicitation, by lifting her chemise up to her armpits and standing in front of a cheval glass for my inspection, pleased I fancied by my rapturous eulogiums of her loveliness — and exquisite she was. — “You know a well made woman when you see one,” she remarked. — Then quickly she dropped her chemise, — she’d not held it up a minute, — it seemed but an instant, — and refused spite of my entreaties to raise it again. — “You have seen quite enough.” — Again on the bed we sat, again our hands crossed and fingers played on prick and cunt, — silent, with voluptuous thoughts and lewed sensations.
BOOK: My Secret Life
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