Read My Secret Life Online

Authors: Anonymous

My Secret Life (94 page)

I have seen men begin and finish in three minutes and often have done so myself. I saw once a man who must have been half an hour up a woman before he spent, and kept ramming hard at intervals all that time; he was a feeble man. Many others pause long with prick in the lady talking all the time, but these are exceptions.
My impression is that from the time the man first feels the pleasure of the contact of his glans with the cunt, to the time he spends in it, that he fucks at the average of forty-five thrusts a minute — this average excludes hot full-ballocked young men, and lewed, experienced, philosophically fucking, middle-aged men, and old men; tho perhaps if these extremes were included the average might remain about the same.
I think that on the average, men between twenty-five and forty-five, and in full strength, are at their first fuck no more than four or five minutes in the woman’s cunt, which includes the lingering of the prick for a short time after the seminal discharge. The second fuck occupies a longer time, but of the second operations I have seen fewer. I have myself I am sure kept my prick in for twenty minutes at my second poke, ceasing to thrust, nearly withdrawing it, checking the spend when pleasure became strong, then keeping it up a few minutes after spending.
If a woman has three men on one night — and many do — and each on the average thrusts his prick four minutes only, and at the rate of fifty thrusts a minute, she would have six hundred thrusts up her cunt. — What a fine material a cunt lining must be!
I don’t think any man could make such observations if his spermholder was full, and he himself wanted to fuck. — He must be cool, and collected, which means empty ballocks. This was my case when most of the observations were made on special nights, but on others the results were about the same. Few of the men were more than half an hour with the women altogether, including amatory preliminaries, dressing, and undressing.
In my youth I fucked women in silence excepting the sights and murmurs of pleasure. When older, with softest words of love and endearment, mixed at times with expressions of rapturous adoration of the cunt I was enjoying, and with the ideal beauty of which and its owner my mind was filled as: — “Darling — lovely cunt.” — Pleasure evokes voluptuous thoughts and reminiscences most varied. I now ejaculate the most obscene words and phrases. This stimulates my passions, increases my pleasure, and affects, I find, my partner in fucking, who sympathetically responds similar words, heightening her pleasure and mine as well. Of the many men I have seen fucking, few have cried out such lustful, stimulating words as I now do — when I could hear them, which was not always the case.
The language of love is always exaggerated, hyperbolical, full of flights of fancy. A standing prick and a stiffening moistening cunt cast a glamour over the genitals and all their operations. The glowing terms of lust and love seem almost ridiculous when fucking is over and one is cool, yet they represent the exact feelings and sentiments of both sexes
when
fucking.
Curious to know the quantity of sperm spent at the first fuck, many a time I have frigged myself during my career. I have also frigged men, and seen a hundred cunts with recently injected semen in them. I fancy that a
large tea spoon
full is about the quantity spent by a man at his first fuck, when in the vigor of life. Harlots have told me the same, but one told me she knew a man who spent about a dessert spoonful. In the decline of life the quantity falls to beneath a tea spoon full — it is a steadily diminishing quantity with age — the quantities spoken of in baudy books as spent are quite figurative.
Among the hundred and fifty pairs I have seen copulating I have scarcely seen any of those fanciful,
outré
amourous tricks, which I have myself played with women. This sometimes makes me think that I am somewhat exceptional in this. Nearly all of my tricks have however been played at the houses or lodgings of the women, and after I have known them sometime. Perhaps this is the case with other men.
CHAPTER LVIII
At the lapunar and peephole.

Alexandrine’s advice.

Katie’s instruction.

Marguerite’s fornication.

Profits and losses.

A hairy arsed harlot.

About the propriety of seeing and feeling other men’s pricks.

A. double cunted strumpet.

Katie’s eventful history.

England again. — Alteration in the arrangement of my narrative.

The philosophy of fucking virgins and juveniles.

H. lost and found.

Mutual friggings in a cab.

The snug accommodation house.

Baudy books and prints.

H.’s pleasure in meeting me.

Minetted by Misses R and Black. -Baudy triads.

A flagellation spectacle.

Three women and self.

An orgy.

Black becomes favourite

Epitome of voluptuous amusements with H.

Termination of narrative.
 
Taking rest tho travelling, I reached the city of pleasure and was welcomed with open arms by Alexandrine, who still retained her post. There was much change in the woman-kind in the bordel since last I was there — a longish time ago — but enough of the old ones left to know me. — “C’est lui,” — when I appeared in the salon. Marguerite was there as beautiful as ever, indeed still
more
beautiful in form. A wonder — for there she certainly has been seven years and more and Alexandrine tells me, never has less than five men, and frequently seven, in each twenty-four hours. “She makes much, as much as any three women. — But Ah! — it all goes outside to some one.” — “Un homme?” — “Je le suppose,” and she shrugged her shoulders. I fucked Marguerite and told her she’d made a fortune. “But I spend it.” — “How then?” — “In pleasure.” — “Ah there is
un amant de cœur.”
— “Peut-être,” — and she smiled. — She was a lovely creature.
I saw also about a dozen couples fucking, saw the Cyprians before it, enjoined them to shew off the men’s pricks well, and was obeyed. The sight of a handsome stiff pego, I sometimes fancy now excites me more than the sight of the more secret female organ. — Why? — Is my desire to see this procreating tool improper or not? Prejudice and education in false principles would make answer. “Yes.” — If it be so, then man made in God’s own image, is in his nudity a thing to be ashamed of, and his pego obscene, filthy, abominable. Yet the creator has made him with that tool for the great purpose of peopling the world, of creating beings whom he then endows with souls. Strange that it should be thought abominable and immoral for a man to show it, or other men to see and touch it — simply ludicrous. — All males at some time have both exposed their own, and felt other men’s pricks

perhaps only boys’ pricks

but the act is the same. — Powerful organ which all love and women worship — why art thou called filthy and obscene?
One evening a nearly black haired woman came in to me, with a copious overflowing libation in her quim — fat spunk and lots of it. — I looked, investigated, said she might go, and proffered payment. “Mais baisez moi donc.” — “Ah no I want it not.” “But you must, you shall, you have not kissed me for three years.” I had quite forgotten her, then recollected her hairiness which had displeased me then, and displeased me now. She was one of the hairiest in the region of cunt and bum hole I ever saw. From navel to arsehole, it was black, long, curly, thick, and hid everything. The gap was hidden by it quite, her buttocks were covered with hair up to the bum bones, gradually thinning off to those ossifications, but still black and thick. It must have been an inch long round her anus, and all jet black. It filled the hollow between cunt and thigh. As she knelt, it looked like the arse of a black bear and was ugly, yet such was her almost angry persuasiveness — such the excitement of novelty — that I fucked her, tho against my will as I did it, but I verily believe to her great delight.
“There is a fresh woman and she’s two cunts,” said Alexandrine to me as I entered one night. “Impossible.” — “It’s true, she comes from Marseilles and has been stopping at the F
*
r
*
y’s and now is here.”

I asked for Katie, and had a chat with her. — “Yes it is true, and she is in society now.” — “Better and better,” I said. “Let her come to me after.” Awaiting her, I amused myself with Katie, who told me all about the woman till she entered.
I put her on to the bedside quickly. — She had heard of my letch — and opened her thighs. There was much thick sperm outside, what looked like any other cunt, and I said the two
cunts
was a joke. But Katie coming to my aid pulled open the lips, which so far resembled an ordinary quim, but down the center of the cunt, was a membrane or diaphragm looking like one of the nymphæ, extending from the clitoris to the lower end of the split. The two proper nymphæ were in their place. I put my finger up. — “There is no sperm in there,” said Katie, “look here” — and putting the central division on one side, there was the opening with sperm in it. I rapidly looked all over her two quims randy in mind, but was just then not strong, not well, and my prick would not stand. — Katie sucked it to a slight rigidity and I put it with difficulty up the spermy orifice. — It would not remain there, her cunt fell away from me. “There is not much spunk in you,” — said I. — “Not much,” said the Marseillaise, “it’s all run out, but the Monsieur is waiting for me to go back.” — So I let her go. She came back soon after with her cunt or cunts washed. — Excited and lusting for her, yet I now couldn’t get my prick stiff at all so tried Katie’s quim which didn’t rise it, and in despair I left the house.
Next day I had the same two women. Kate, because being English she interpreted for me when my French failed me, and I learned all about the double cunted one. I saw her piss, felt one then the other vagina, felt to the top or bottom of each, rubbed the womb entrances, put two fingers, one up each cunt at the same time, and felt and pinched the gristly or fleshy division between the two. Every enquiry I made was answered with frankness. Katie gamahuched me, and so did
“double cunt.”
— All was again useless, I wanted the woman, yet had a dislike to her. So tipping handsomely for the trouble I had given, I departed again with flaccid tool, and without having this time even got the tip up either of the double cunts, or the single cunt, for I tried Katie’s — I had done for myself by recent amours I suppose.

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