'Do you regret having given yourself to me?' he asked, pressing me convulsively as if afraid to lose me.
My penis, which seemed to wish to give its own answer, wriggled within his body. I looked deep into his eyes.
'Do you think it would have been pleasanter to be now lying in the slush of the river?'
He shuddered and kissed me, then eagerly, 'How can you think of such horrible things just now; it is real blasphemy to the Mysian god.'
Thereupon he began to ride a Priapean race with masterly skill; from an amble he went on to a trot, then to a gallop, lifting himself on the tips of his toes, and coming down again quicker and ever quicker. At every movement he writhed and wriggled, so that I felt myself pulled, gripped, pumped, and sucked at the same time.
A rigid tension of the nerves took place. My heart was beating in such a way that I could hardly breathe. All the arteries seemed ready to burst. My skin was parched with a glowing heat; a subtle fire coursed through my veins instead of blood.
Still he went on quicker and quicker. I writhed in a delightful torture. I was melting away, but he never stopped till he had quite drained me of the last drop of life-giving fluid there was in me. My eyes were swimming in their sockets. I felt my heavy lids half close themselves; an unbearable voluptuousness of mingled pain and pleasure, shattered my body and blasted my very soul; then everything waned in me. He clasped me in his arms, and I swooned away whilst he was kissing my cold and languid lips.
My Secret Life
The vast diary of the anonymous Victorian womaniser, 'Walter' is a treasure trove of erotic encounters of almost every description. Evidently he was a man of some considerable attraction, one of those whom women cannot resist. And, in Walter's case, he cannot resist them, either.
The vignettes in the following pages all have a common starting point: the women are all London street pick-ups though only one is an out-and-out whore. When you compare the effort most men - at least in their youth - put into trying to attract pretty girls in the street, it can be seen that Walter possessed a special magnetism. Even in his later years - and the scenes that follow with 'Lilian' are taken from his maturity - Walter had the knack...
One Saturday afternoon I met a sweet-faced girl looking twenty, fairly grown, and elegantly dressed. There was something about her which attracted me even in the distance. I kept my eyes fixed on hers from the moment I could distinguish them - and she on mine. A sudden and strong desire for her seized me, tho I was not wanting nor even thinking of a woman. I wanted to see and talk with her, rather than anything else. We both slackened pace as we approached each other.
'Come with me,' I said with sudden impulse. Half stopping, looking at me steadily for a few seconds, and then smiling, she placed her arm in mine as I turned round, and in three minutes we were in a handsome bedroom. We had not spoken a word, until the servant had closed the door; I had got one of my well known rooms, at J***s St.
'I never was pounced upon like that before,' said she.
'I longed for you the instant I set eyes on you,' said I.
'And I thought I should like you the instant I set eyes on you,' she rejoined. We stood up kissing for a minute. She had beautiful brown hair, and light hazel eyes, with the softest and most voluptuous expression in them, and beautiful teeth. Then, taking off my coat and waistcoat, she, unasked, quickly stripped to her chemise - and a lovely creature she was. Slim but quite plump enough, with flesh like ivory, hard little breasts, sweetly shaped legs, and with one of the loveliest little youthful cunts, set in a small quantity of silky chestnut hair that I ever saw, and all seen in the most exquisite underclothing. Stripped to my shirt, her naked bum was soon seated on my naked thigh, and whilst I twiddled her cunt, and she held my prick, our mouths and tongues together uttered inarticulate soft sighs of love, without speaking, till I almost felt I should spend. We were speechless with lust and impatient to couple.
I pulled my prick from her, and my hand from her cunt. 'We are in a hurry, do you want to go soon?' - 'Oh - no, I'm in no hurry, but I want you to poke, let's do it dear and we will talk afterwards.' - Again our hands were on our genitals, our sighs and salivas mixing for a minute, and then with one accord we went to the bed and fucked, murmuring our pleasure to each other. Recovering, - 'You've a lovely cunt.' - 'You fuck lovely,' said she. 'Oh I wish my prick would never come out of your cunt.' - 'So do I - keep it in till you do it again,' thus we murmured our liking for each other, almost in each other's mouths.
Tho very late in the spring it was cool and a fire was in the room. We sat after fucking on the sofa, with arms round each other and kissing. The suddenness of our meeting, and poking, astonished us both. When had she been fucked last? Nearly a fortnight, ago - she was kept, and her friend had been away that time. 'Didn't you want fucking my dear?' - 'And didn't you?' - 'I must wash, it's running out on to my chemise.' - 'No, don't, it's nicer the second time unwashed.' - 'So it is, but give me a towel.' - I gave it to her, she put it under her bum, we talked a minute only longer, then speechless our tongues again met, and then to the bed. My prick went up - 'Oh isn't your cunt smooth?' - 'Yes, dear - oh, lovely,' - soon we were in ecstasy again, and then on the sofa we sat and talked. Her name was Henrietta, and she was called Hetty. Soon again I had her.
Time rolled on, I got hungry. She wanted food - but neither talked of leaving. At about ten o'clock - my glorious stiff one (my prick will always stand to a nice woman even if it can't spend) rammed and rammed and fetched her but gave out no sperm. 'I'm done,' said I. 'And done enough, you have knocked me up,' said she. Then we went to a shop, feasted full of lobster and separated. I had never had a more exquisite five hours with any woman, young, old, modest, or gay.
She met me again by appointment a few days after. I had ordered clean dry sheets on the bed, and we laid naked together in them. We were mutually satisfied with each other's bodies. This time I gave her a little dinner before we went there, so we were in the best possible condition, tho I doubt if we really fucked better, or enjoyed each other more than we did at first. We spooned each other. For the most part my taste and my luck as it seems to me, has run me into large-arsed, fleshy, fat-cunted, well-haired, big women, so that this little lady seemed lovely to me by comparison. Her cunt seemed to fit me so, and the slight hair pleased me so, that I kept thinking about that charming variety. Variety was perhaps at the bottom of it all, for a fresh cunt is mostly delicious, or it always is so to me.
When fucked out and dressed, we sat by the fire. She would not tell me where she lived - it was a nice little house, but her man was nearly always with her, and had kept her a year, she had only been gay three months before he did so. Now she was only eighteen, and he was so good, and liberal, and kept her mother as well, so that she was frightened of being found out. She had never, she could swear, had any man since he had kept her but myself, and 'Good heavens, I longed for you as I looked in your eyes, and the quickness, oh!' Here she repeated my words, and described my action. She should never forget it - 'I wish you would keep me. I should love you in a week,' said she, 'and would be so faithful to you. I've never really felt I should like a man but you, tho I've only seen you twice.'
If her friend had not returned she would meet me a third time. - If she did not, I was to understand that she could not, and that she had said goodbye to me. She did meet me, and we had three hours of the hardest fucking I ever have had yet. - 'Oh,' said she, kissing me, 'to think it's the last time I ever shall see you perhaps, there may be a chance, but I fear not.' We arranged where to write to each other. 'But what's the good?' said she. 'I shall love you perhaps.' She never did write, I did, but got no reply. I made her take some money which she had refused before. She cried and kissed me, passionately when we separated for ever, for I never saw her afterwards.
She was so nice that I had at once the idea of asking her to be my mistress but resisted it. I was so unhappy that I longed for a home with a female in it, but had found that a mistress did not do much to diminish m
y unhappiness, so altho I longed for Hetty, gave up all idea of keeping her.
About a week after I saw Hetty for the last time, I was loitering about Cockspur Street, at about half past twelve, on a lovely sunshiny, tho cold day in May, when I met three women walking abreast. Two were middle-aged, and comfortably clad like small tradeswomen, the third was a strapping, healthy woman of about one and twenty, with dark bright eyes, dark hair, and clear skin, and clad like a well-to-do, quiet, servant. I wanted a woman that morning. Her face pleased me, and as she looked at me as I approached, I put out my lips as if kissing, and winked at her, just as I passed her. The others did not see this.
I turned round looking after her and saw that she had small feet (her petticoats were short), and showed a thickish ankle in white stockings. She had a steady movement of her haunches, and had in brief every indication of the form of woman I liked, and I followed them at a distance. Soon she half turned to look back, but seeing me, turned again quickly. In a minute afterwards they went into a public house. She's a servant out for a holiday and if game at all, wants a man, here is a chance - thought I. I like a young servant, and have had dozens of them. - So I walked into the public house after them.
They were standing in a compartment shut off from the rest of the bar. The two middle-aged had ale - the young one nothing. I ordered a glass of wine and remarked that it was a fine day. - 'Yes it is,' said she, seemingly a little confused. Would she have a glass of wine? She looked round at the women, one of whom nudged her. Then she said she would. Talking on, I asked if she was going to the Royal Academy to see the pictures. She didn't know anything about the place but said she liked pictures. I offered to take her. 'It's only across the road almost - if your friends can spare you, let us go.'
This seemed to upset the other women, one of whom said, 'If we don't go at once, we shall be late.' The young woman said, 'Wait a minute,' and went on talking with me, and I repeated my offer. Impatiently another said, 'If you come out with us Miss ****, you come, if you don't, you don't - you know the address, he'll be home at one o'clock, mind, and won't wait for nobody.' Then out the two went. Said she, 'I must go or they will be angry.' - 'Never mind, come and have luncheon with me, and we will go to the pictures afterwards.' - 'Perhaps they are waiting for me.' I went out, could not see them, and then asked if they were relations. No - one was her landlady, the other woman lodged there, and they were going to her sister's to dine at one o'clock.
Never mind. 'You are a dressmaker, aren't you?' She answered quite straight. 'No, I'm a servant, and left my situation four days ago, but I shall soon get another for I have a good character. I've been after one this morning, and as I'd nothing to do, and Mrs *** asked me to come with them, I did - Oh! but I've forgot the address - isn't there a placed called ****?' - I could not help her and didn't mean to if I could. 'What ever will she think if I don't go?' - 'Say you forgot the address and went home, but come and have luncheon.'
She hesitated uneasily. We went out, could not see the two women, and I took her quickly to the Cafe de l'E*r**e (one of the best eating and drinking places in London, and supported mainly by kept women and their protectors). Soon an ample luncheon with champagne was before us. We sat side by side, she tucked in the food, ate heartily, and got well warmed up with champagne before she had half finished her meat. Good food soon heats a cunt, I know as well as any man now, and heats a prick as well.
All she had told was probable, but where did she lodge - and where had she been in service? I asked this right off. She told me both places, and they happened to be in the very quarter of London where I first lived after I had run thro my first fortune. - 'Do you know *** Terrace?' - 'Yes.' - 'Well I have just left No. 3 - Mrs S***n**s, I was housemaid there.' I knew the house perfectly and where she had got a lodging was close to where my sweet maid Mary had lodged, when she left my service years ago, so I felt convinced she was telling the truth. Her name was Mary S****s. How many more Marys am I to have?
I began warm talk very soon after she had got her belly full. Did she sleep alone in the lodgings or with her sweetheart? 'Alone, of course.' It was her first place in London. Her parents lived at ****. - 'I know why you came to London.' - 'Do you? Why?' said she laughing. - 'You got into a scrape at home with a man.' She coloured scarlet and seemed confused. - 'That it wasn't.' - But feeling sure that by chance I had hit the right nail, I chaffed her and added, 'My dear what if you did - a woman's a fool if she doesn't have a man if she likes one. - We are made for each other. Miss S****s - may I call you Mary?' - 'Yes, if you like.' - 'And no woman knows what the pleasure of life is, till a man's naked thighs have lain between her naked thighs.'
'Oh - I don't like that talk.' - 'You like the thing tho, don't you? - but tell me all about your country lover, did his thighs go there?' and I laid my hand broadly on hers underneath the table. She did not much object to that hand - but 'no' - there was no country lover she could declare. - 'Have some tarts, don't you like them?' - 'Oh yes, but I'm nearly bursting now, the food's so nice.' Tarts were ordered and eaten, and another glass of champagne drunk, and by then she was frisky and a little loud. - I put my hand on her thigh at every opportunity, and closer and closer to her belly - then gave a pinch, whispering that I felt the hair. - 'Oh you story, don't do that. - How that gentleman opposite keeps staring at us,' and she pushed my hand away.
A man was staring at us - so we changed sides and then the wooden enclosure hid us (scarcely anyone was there). We subdued our voices - but that she was quite lewed thro food, and wine, my talk, and her constitution, I now felt sure. She laughed at every thing I said, I got from delicate smut, to plain words, then put her hand outside my trowsers on my cock - 'Isn't it hard there?' said I and gradually exciting her, dared at last to ask her to come with me somewhere, and have a cup of tea and I would give her a new dress if she would only let me see her lovely legs to just above her knees.
She got up then. - No she wouldn't, she was surprised - but there was lust in her eyes. She must go, and wished she could recollect the address. - What would Mrs *** think of her now, and so on - 'I declare I think I've had too much to drink.' - 'You want to piddle I expect.' - 'I want something badly,' said she, laughing. - 'There is no place here but I will show you where.' - Then I paid the bill. - 'What a lot of money it cost,' she remarked. 'I'll give you twice as much to see you undressed.' - She shook me by the arm, 'Now I won't have this.' - We left - I led her to J***s St - You can piddle in here, and have a cup of tea - it will refresh you.' - 'No.' - 'Come.' - 'I won't.' - I pushed open the door and pulled her in gently, saying as I entered, 'Send us up some tea.' Next minute we were in a bedroom. - 'Oh,' said she, 'this isn't a public house, is it?' - 'No,' said I boldly, 'this is where people come to fuck.' - 'Oho - no - is it really a bad house? - you'd no business to bring me here. I won't stop,' - but I pushed her into a chair and there she sat.
The tea was brought. - 'You haven't piddled.' - 'Where can I?' - That point of modesty was gone. - 'Here is the pot.' - 'I can't before you.' - 'I can,' and pulling out my prick under her very nose - but so stiff that the piss could scarcely get through it, I somehow managed it, whilst she looked askant at me all the time. 'There now you do it.' - 'You go away then and don't look.' - 'All right.' - Putting down the pot I turned my back, but directly she began turned round to her. - 'You rude man,' said she, laughing. She was slightly groggy I now noticed.
'Is your cunt wet?' said I. 'Dirty man, I won't tell you.' - 'I'll feel,' and stooping got my hand well on to her thighs. - She struggled hard and made a noise, but I pushed her back on to the sofa and got my fingers well between her cunt lips. That settled her at once - all her gaiety left. She no longer laughed nor squirmed, but seemed quite scared. 'Oh now - I didn't think you'd go so far as that. Oh - really - now let me go - I won't have any tea - I must go to my friends.'
But I know the trick when once my hand is on a woman's clitoris. - I dare say I don't vary it whether with a lady, a mistress or servant. Instinct teaches from that m
oment, and alone guides me. I have no system of what to do and say. How I wish I could see other men under similar circumstances. - 'Don't struggle, it's foolish, let me feel (I have felt it you know how) - only for a minute, - kiss me.' - Then twiddle till the pleasure pervades the whole gap, and I kiss so that the woman cannot utter a word - 'Feel my prick - only for a minute. Do - there - isn't it stiff? How it's longing to go up your cunt. - Do let me - I won't spend in you. - Don't fear - I'll pull it out when you like, if you'll only let me put it in for a minute.' - 'Oh don't, I'm frightened to let you - oh - leave off.' - Then comes silence, silence only broken by soft, voluptuous kisses - then she is near to spending - her cunt yearning for sperm, and wetting itself to get ready for the prick to enter it, helpless with desire she surrenders and the thighs open. Thus it was with Mary S****s, as with others before.
Silence and kisses - and the feeling of each other's genitals - but not for long. In ten minutes after the tea had been brought in, there was Mary laying on the bed, silent, and with eyes closed, and her cunt full, and my dripping prick was dangling outside it, I on her belly, her clothes up in a heap above her navel. It was only about three o'clock in the afternoon.
'I'm so sleepy,' said she. 'Let's get into bed then and get your clothes off.' - 'I'd better go.' - 'Don't be foolish, Mary - you've been fucked and I'm going to do it again - let's enjoy ourselves, take off your things.' - Rising from her belly, I undressed rapidly to my shirt. - She laid quite quietly looking on. - 'No,' - she must go. - I dragged her off the bed by her feet and then she undressed and went to bed. I fucked her again - and then we both slept soundly.
When I awakened it was nearly five o'clock: She was still asleep. Gently as possible I uncovered her to her waist, and saw a lovely pair of hard breasts, and dark hair peeping out from her armpits. Carefully I drew the clothes over her again and slid my finger on to her cunt which was wet and sticky, as delicately as if with a feather. I rubbed her clitoris for such a time, wetting my finger lower down when it grew dry. She was soundly asleep, but the sensation I was awaking in her began to make her restless. In her sleep she put her hand down to her cunt. I drew away mine. - 'Who's that?' said she suddenly awaking. 'I, my love,' and I moved on to her belly with a stiff prick again.
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