Eroticon Heat

by J. P. Spencer

  There is nothing I love better than to frig a nice woman when fast asleep and watch her randiness come on, her thighs move, her hand go suddenly (they all do that) on to her cunt as she awakens, after gradually getting more and more restless and excited with voluptuous desire, caused by the friction.

  'What's o'clock? Oh I've been dreaming so, let me get up.'

  'After we've done it again love,' said I - inserting my prick in her lubricious cunt. - What woman with a prick well up her can insist on getting up? Then keeping my prick in, raising myself on one elbow to look at her, I talked voluptuous talk. - 'O-ho,' sighed she, and her cunt gave a squeeze. Then we had our third pleasure and she seemed on the point of sleeping again.

  But as if suddenly recollecting herself - 'Oh let me wash, Oh - I'm nearly naked,' - and getting out rapidly she washed her quim saying, 'Oh sir, you gave me too much wine purposely to make me do what I've done.' Then she began to dress herself, but folding her in my arms and kissing her I prevented her. 'Don't be foolish, it's not late.' - 'Oh you gave me too much wine purposely, and you did it to make me let you do that to me - it's a shame.'

  I had really done nothing of the sort, not thinking from her manner that it was needful, for I fancied she wanted a man; she had kept her hand in mine and pressed it before she had begun to eat. She certainly had drunk a good lot, but beyond laughing and talking much, had not given a sign of being tight, until she went to sleep. I denied it, and got her to be reasonable. Her landlady was not to be home till eight o'clock, so what hurry? 'Let me see your lovely cunt, and I kissed down from her breasts to her navel - and then upwards from motte to navel. 'Now don't be foolish, let me look at it, I've fucked it, I've fucked it three times.' Soon I held the lips open and looked, kissed and examined it, and then, with heated genitals, on the bed we fucked. Each fuck takes longer in completing than the previous one. The pleasure is less rapid, and what voluptuous rests, and talk, and kisses we get, which we cannot pause for in the first coupling. How long one's prick lays stiff and quiet in the folds of the warm cunt before it recommences its exercise.

  She dressed. - 'Don't look at me - my things aren't quite clean,' said she. And then we left. She made a promise to meet me the next day at the same hour. I put her into a cab and gave her money to pay for it, promising her a new bonnet the next day.

  We met, lunched, and enjoyed ourselves as on the previous day. 'My linen's quite clean,' said she, 'I was ashamed of it yesterday.' - In my hot lust I had not noticed its being soiled, if it was so. She was a nice creature, with fat thighs, large and well shaped calves, with nearly black hair on her cunt, crisp, thick and curly, but not much of it. The handful of flesh which forms the cunt pad between her thighs was full and fleshy, but the lips did not project roundly. That sort of cunt always was pretty to me. She had more pleasure, seemingly, than many women have in looking at my prick. Whenever she felt it she kept her eyes upon it. 'Let me see it get stiff,' said she, when it was under the clothes, on one day afterwards. Her manners, tho only those of a servant, pleased me. She seemed delighted and proud at being taken for a dressmaker, which I had said to flatter her.

  For two more days I had her, but could not give her so much bumbasting as she had on our first encounter. I couldn't manage that on two days running, but a couple of fucks satisfy most women. Then she got a situation. - 'What shall I do if I'm in the family way?' said she. How I hate to hear that said. It's the penalty of having any woman but whores. I told her my name, and the club to write to and promised if in trouble that way to help her, but she never applied to me.

  I took Mary to another dining place afterwards. Then we went different ways, and met at another baudy house for our enjoyment.

  Mary always kept saying that I had given her too much wine on the first day, and she didn't know what she was about. - One day towards the end of our acquaintance when she repeated it, I said I was sure she was as lewed that day as she could be at the moment I met her, and that I saw it in her eyes as she looked at me, and in her manner when in the public house. She with a laugh, 'Well you did look like such a nice man, I did look at you - and you looked so at me - that I wondered if you liked me - and I did feel as if I wished you were my husband.' - 'You wanted fucking,' said I. 'I didn't know what I wanted,' and that was all I got admitted.

  She wished she could go to see her parents before she went to her situation, so I gave her the money to go - as well as other presents. She came back two days before the time, and two good afternoon fuckings we had. She was to have a holiday once a month, and said that she would willingly meet me - I said I would if in England - but I did not - I knew her new address, but in a month after had other fish to fry, and so tho I intended it at the time I spoke with her, I never had her again.

  She was not a virgin, but I don't think a regular fuckstress, and I think had not had it for a long time; she enjoyed not embraces so strongly. After the first day she was much less ready, and more modest, no doubt the wine was in her on that first day, and that her system was craving for a fuck. Had it not been for that, I doubt if I should have got her, but who can tell. The cunt which has once had a prick up it will always have it again, and she helped to amuse me nicely for three weeks.

  I went to dine with a friend at K**b**n. He was a married man, childless, extravagant to a degree in expenditure generally, and particularly in fine food, and wines [he has since ruined himself]. A dozen or so of us men had every thing of the choicest which money could buy, and after sitting, eating, drinking, and smoking for four hours, we left him. It had turned out a pouring night, I had no carriage, his house was a quarter or an hour's walk from a cab stand, and his footman could procure me no cab. One of the guests kindly offered me a seat in his carriage for part of my way home - and at half past one in the morning, set me down at the top of R*g**t Street.

  The deluge of rain had just ceased, and the pitch dark, it was clearing up. Never in my life have I seen R*g**t St so deserted. The rain had long driven every one home, and I don't think I met six people on its whole length as I walked down it, pleased with the novelty of its absence of life, and glad to walk off the effects in a degree, of my heavy gorging.

  There was not even a gay woman to be seen until I got to the Haymarket. There, one or two only shewed, and one asked me to pay her cab fare home, and a well dressed woman she was - cleaned out, without a farthing, the Argyle had been empty, not a friend had she got, she must walk home if some one did not give her half a crown, and she told me where she lived at West Brompton.

  A dinner such as I had had always heats my testicles in two or three hours, and as I stood looking and listening to the young woman, a wave of lust rushed thro my genitals, and I began to want a cunt. Yet I had no intention of having her, indeed had an intention not to have her - for I had other views about the lodging of my penis next day. Then came on one of those baudy inspirations I am subject to, and spite of the evident absurdity of the offer (looking at the dress and style of the woman tho she was not quite a first class) - jokingly I said, 'I'll give you a half crown if you'll let me fuck you.'

  I rarely accosted a female with suck frank baudiness, but I was a little elevated, tho not in the least intoxicated. She, seemed in a similar state, and laughing much replied. - 'Oh! Lord, I haven't come to half a crown yet, you are liberal, but I'd sooner walk home if I get wet to my skin.' - I laughed about it. - 'Ah, you don't want fucking.' - 'That's just what I do want, for I haven't had a man for four days.' - 'You've been poorly.' - 'Just what I have been or I shouldn't want half a crown.' - After a minute's more talk, I gave it her, and had intended to do so from the first. 'Here it is, and a shilling for a glass of wine, and now if you won't let me fuck you for half a crown, let me do it for love.'

  'Thank you,' she said not moving, but, looking at me, and clapping the money with a chink from one hand to the other, and then back again. - 'Did you expect I'd let you for half a crown?' - 'No my dear, but for love.' - 'Well I'll let you for love. Where shall we go?' - 'What, to fuck you
?' - 'Yes for love,' said she quite seriously.

  Taken quite aback, I thought she was up to some trick, the empty streets and the time of night made me suddenly suspicious. - 'I was joking, I'm in a hurry, let me feel your cunt. That's all.' - 'Very well, and all for love, mind.' There was a narrow court leading into a wider one then [it still exists tho better lighted] which looked dark enough, and in a second we were in it, her back against a house, my finger on her cunt. - 'You've got drawers on.' - 'Well I can't pull them off here, let us go to O*e*d*n St' - I would not, but between the loose linen I plied my fingers. - 'I'll frig you.' - 'No, fuck me - no one will pass - I want it - let me feel your prick.'

  I wouldn't let her - I got coy, began to want her - but didn't like a strange woman in the dark. - 'No I'll frig you,' and I commenced, putting my left arm round her waist and my stick against the wall. - She let me. - 'Oh fuck me do, I want it so - oh I shall spend - you shan't feel me, unless you let me feel you,' and her hand sought my trowsers. But before she could unbutton me - her bum shivered, she caught me round the head, pulled me to her, kissed me and my hat tumbled off as she murmured, 'Oh - oh - you beast - oh - you've made me spend' - and she was silent, whilst I picked up my hat.

  'You haven't spent - I have tho.' - 'You haven't,' I said, tho I felt pretty sure she had done so. Then again I put my hand on her cunt, and after a broad-handed fingering under the prick-receiver, I satisfied myself that she had. 'Why didn't you fuck me? I've never been frigged in a street before.' - 'But you've frigged a man.' - 'Only one or two - why don't you fuck me? - come - fuck me for love mind, let's go to O*e*d*n St or come home and sleep with me - I want you.'

  I had dropped her petticoats, but I was so lewed now, that I could scarcely restrain myself, and when holding me she began feeling at my trowsers again, my resolution gave way. - 'We can't do it here.' - 'Yes we can, no one will come thro here - if anyone's coming we can hear them, do it to me - oh what a big one.' - She had got hold of my prick, and then without another word, she lifted up her petticoats. - 'Damn my drawers,' said she. - The next instant my prick was in her cunt - and against the wall we fucked, the affair was short - and she spent with me.

  'I hope you are all right,' said I when my prick had left her. 'Quite - don't be frightened, come and see me,' - and she repeated her name and address - and that every night she was at the Argyle rooms. - 'Is it likely I should have made you do it to me if I was ill - come with me to a house and see me undressed, I'm beautifully made.' - She tried hard to induce me but it was all useless. Slight rain began to fall. 'I'd best get back,' said she, and in the Haymarket she hailed a cab, and was going off - 'Stop, my dear, you must have a little bit of gold.' - 'I haven't asked for any,' said she, 'and now you won't come to see me, tho you've just promised - I want you to have me for love.'

  I had promised that I would go to see her, and repeated her name and address over again as she wished me, but certainly had no intention of doing so. She had a superstition that I should not after I had paid her - but she took a half sovereign which I pushed into her hand - 'I'll call on you soon.' - 'No you won't.' - 'Yes I will.'

  'No you won't,' and the cab drove off as the 'won't' died away in the noise. I never did call on her - or see her afterwards. She was a nice, bright looking dark eyed woman, of one or two and twenty years of age perhaps.

  I walked then down to the colonnade of the Opera house, when a smart shower came on. - I intended to go to my Club which had not closed, to get some soda water - but being without an umbrella, waited two or three minutes. Just as I was about to hail a cab, a tall, full grown, portly looking woman, whom I had seen standing at the angle by Pall Mall, came up to me, addressed me with a broad Irish accent, and asked me to go with her. The accent was so broad, and it was such a novelty to hear anything like it out of Ireland, and she looked so portly, so like a respectable tradeswoman - and so unlike a Paphian - that being in a baudy mood, far baudier than when the other woman had asked me for a half crown, I stopped, talked, and then chaffed her.

  Yes, she was Irish, and not ashamed of that, and had not long been in London. - I'd just had a woman, had I? By her soul, I'd never had a woman like she was, nor seen a cunt like hers, she'd swear she'd more hair on it than was on any two women's cunts. - If I'd go and see it, and she hadn't told me God's truth, I shouldn't pay her anything. - She was a married woman, but the times were so bad with them, that she must get her bread some how, would I come? - No, she wouldn't pull up her petticoats to show me in the streets - not for five shillings (which I offered). - 'Yer a big baste to be after asking me to do it. - Divil a bit if I will tho, - but you may put your hand up and feel a bit.'

  I accepted the offer, put my hand between her thighs, but long before I reached her cunt as it seemed to me, I felt long hair. Then she jerked her rump back, and pushed down my hand from beneath the clothes. - She had roused my curiosity, I chaffed on, she got angry, and extolled her own charms, and said there wasn't a finer woman in London than she was. After telling her where I'd just fucked - and she refusing still to do anything in the streets, to satisfy my curiosity - it ended with her saying - 'Never - never in the street, I'd just sooner be dead - no - not for the half sovereign (which at last I offered) but I'll strip to ye, and ye may do what you like with me in a house, for half a sovereign, and glad I'll be to get it.' - No, she was a stranger about there, and knew no house. - I took her to a convenient brothel in **** St.

  'Give me the half sovereign,' said she so soon as we were in the bed room. - A bilk, thought I, but not caring whether I was bilked or not, for I had only taken her out of curiosity. I got the money read. 'Then if you haven't got such a hairy cunt as you say, I suppose you'll give me it back,' - said I laughing - 'Sure God - there's no chance of your getting it back for it's hairy as a King Charles' (dog she meant). - 'Catch' - and I threw it to her. She caught it - spat upon it, and put it in her pocket. - 'Sure and ye'll say ye niver seed such a pussy as moine - ye'll be airfter giving me another bit of gould when you have seen it. - Shall I take all my things off?' - I nodded, and she began divesting herself of her clothing.

  As she did so, she went on demanding my admiration of her charms, in a very singular manner. I have known women very proud of their form, and who have shewn great vexation if I made any remark even inferentially disparaging them. I have known some who drew my attention to some particular part of their form, and which in most cases justified their self praise, but this Irish woman extolled herself from head to foot as she undressed - 'Isn't that a foine arm? - Look - here's breasts I needn't be ashamed of. - My foot's not big for my size is it? I've a splendid leg, haven't I?' - and so on, and certainly she'd a good deal to be proud of. Looking at her under the colonnade, with indifferently made, homely clothes, put on seemingly in a heap, she gave no promise of what was underneath, she looked what may be called a homely, motherly woman, and one I should never have lusted for.

  'Let me see your cunt,' said I impatiently. - 'Wait a bit' - she drew off her chemise. 'There - did you ever see anything like that?' - and indeed I never had, for I could not see the cunt at all, - but only a long pendant mass of darkish brown hair, which seeming to be rooted in her mons, hung down some inches below her cunt, and hid it entirely from view. It reminded me of a patriarchal beard, and I laughed, which much offended her.

  Astonished curiosity at once made me serious, for a cunt is never a thing to be laughed at, its view is too absorbing and stimulating. Quickly I got her on to the bed side. She opened her thighs quite wide, and pulling aside the shaggy covering, I saw a cunt of the usual mature type but with long hair (tho not so long as that from the motte) surrounding it. The hairs everywhere had but slight signs of curling, the shorter ones at the upper part had perhaps a little curl, but the rest was long, and nearly straight and in large quantity. To please her I said it was fine, but I thought it ugly, yet the novelty stiffened me - 'I'll fuck you,' said I. - 'Sure an yer may' - and she moved on to the bed. - 'No, here, I want to see the hair round my pric
k,' and bringing her to a proper position - up it went into her. - The hair mingled with mine, and hid every vestige of my balls as I looked down. - Then I pushed her thigh high up over my shoulder with my left hand, and held her to me with it, whilst I buried my other fingers in the shaggy thicket and spent very soon up her.

  'You've not spent,' said I still up her. - 'Sure and I haven't, and I ought wid such a poker,' she replied in the stronger brogue - and we went on talking till I found myself nearly out of her. - 'Lift up both your legs,' said I, and she complied. - I meant to do it when I asked her, and laying hold of the cunt beard (the best name for it) I drew it right across the orifice, which shewed, when my prick was out of it, my semen issuing, and wiped it with the hair. 'I never saw a cunt which could be wiped with its own hair before.' - 'No and I dare say never will, and it's a baste that you be for adoing it.' Yet she laughed as she washed her cunt. I felt it as she rose from the basin, and it was just like a wet mop.

  She dried it and again I looked. There was hair, and thick, near her bum hole, yet not in very unusual quantity - but all round the cunt it was long and ragged. This woman was proud as a peacock of her hirsute gap.

  'Lay still,' said I, as I sat contemplating it - for I now began to be curious about the woman, whom in all my midnight prowling I had never seen before. 'Sure and you'll give me a trifle more if you keep me long,' - I promised that. Then I lay feeling my prick whilst I pulled her about in various ways. She had only the usual quantity of hair in her armpits, and on her head; had a round, pleasantish Irish face, and not a bad form, tho too thick at the joints to be handsome. She however evidently thought herself a beauty from head to foot. She must have been between thirty-five and forty years old.