“Is your bum as white as your neck?” said I. “Laura says I am the whitest fleshed women she ever saw, all the girls at school used to say so.”
In my mind’s eye I saw the white bum and thighs, my lust came back at a rush. “Let me see it,” I said, and I laid hold of her. The flood-gates of my bawdiness were loosened, and as she afterwards told me, I let fly a torrent of voluptuous words, enough to have excited the passions of all the women in London. I had forgotten the stockings. She kept refusing, denying and evading me. “Hish! hish! Laura will hear you.” Laura did, and came in her nightgown. “I came to see if you had gone to bed,” said she. “You need not have troubled yourself,” said Mabel. “As long as you’re here I shall look after you; when you’re at home you can do as you like.” “I’m quite old enough to take care of myself.” They quarreled. Mabel resented her interference. Fred roared out from his bed room, “What the devil are you going in there for?” and Laura not replying, came in in his nightshirt. After an altercation Fred and Laura went back to bed.
Then Mabel said she should go to bed, must go up for five minutes, but would be down again. “To piddle eh?” Taking off my boots I blew out one candle, took the other, followed her, and opened the door. She was on the piss-pot. I closed the door, and locked it. Five minutes afterwards I was on the bed fucking her with her legs in black stockings, and five minutes afterwards uncunting, the first words I said were, “I loathe black stockings.”
“I can’t bear them myself,” said she, “but I am in mourning.” People in mourning wore black stockings then.
She was anxious for me to go, so that Laura could say nothing positive, whatever she might think. I would directly I had her again. We got into the bed together, and I had her, and then again. That is all I recollect, and that after the fuck we both fell asleep, and were awakened by a knock at the door. It was late in the morning, and broad daylight, Laura was knocking. I opened the door. Laura looked at me, and then at Mabel, and said, “Well the sooner I send you back the better.” There was a somewhat bitter row between them, short but sharp, in which Mabel gave as good as she got. Laura went away. Mabel turned round and wept; then we fucked, and went to sleep again.
This is the only point in my history with Mabel much worth noting, except that when I knew her from top to bottom, and found she got out of bed, and washed her cunt after my sperming it, I asked her, “Why did you not wash the first night?” “Because it’s unlucky,” said she, and I never got any more out of her; but she had known the sensation of a prick in her cunt before mine, that I found out the first night.
She was a well-arsed, well-made, plump girl about twenty-one years old, and had a wonderfully white skin. She had been fucked before, but I believed from all I learnt from her, Laura and Fred, that for two years a prick had not entered her. A man who had paid his addresses to her had deceived her, then cleared off, I expect after tailing her.
I did not profess to keep Mabel after this, but paid for the second-floor rooms (Fred had taken the upper part of the house, three bed- and one sitting room), and my share of the living, and slept with her almost regularly for a short time, gave her money, dressed her, and did all a man does who keeps a woman; but I never cared much about her, and was not constant.
She like Laura was fairly educated. A few months afterwards she went back to her native town, and although she wrote to me, I never saw her again, and had some idea that Lord A— kept her, why I shall tell further on. One reason of my being indifferent to her was that she never properly washed herself. Her beautiful white flesh never seemed to need it, but I did not like a woman who just smeared her face and neck, and never below. I told her of it, and she was offended.
About three weeks after I first had Mabel, Fred and I went to shoot with some friends at——shire; it was towards the end of November, all the leaves were well off the trees.
As said I had female cousins by several aunts, two of them about seventeen or eighteen years of age were at a finishing-school for young ladies. It was a large old-fashioned house kept by three ladies of whom one had been married a year, although then forty years old, to a curate about sixty-five years old. The sisters unmarried were between fifty and sixty years old, stern and stiff-rumped. Maris the married one, fat and forty, with jet-black hair and merry hazel eyes, had been disappointed in her youth, and when this clergyman, whom she had known all her life, proposed, she accepted I suppose for companionship, and because it gave her consideration in the neighbourhood.
The house was originally a very big old mansion, large enough for two schools, and had been roughly divided by walls and partitions into two houses. The smaller was inhabited by Maria and her husband, and the kitchen-garden was attached to it. All access to the pleasure-grounds of the other, or school-part of the house, was bricked up. In an establishment for young ladies, all of a fuckable age, and none without hair on their cunts, it would never have done to leave male access, not even to a curate sixty-five years old. The gardeners were elderly men, they came round by the house to go to the kitchen-garden, which supplied both houses. Mrs. Maria used to go round to the school daily.
The air of the neighbourhood was fine, and although not professing to lodge people, if any of the female relatives of the young ladies at the school desired it, they could go and stop for a week or two at the curate’s, of course paying for so doing.
Fred and I had invitations to shooting not far off, just as my aunt went to stay a week at Mrs. Maria’s and to see her girl. Our friends could accommodate Fred only, and sooner than be separated, and for other reasons, we wrote to the old curate to know if he could receive us two men,—and my aunt as well,—which he did. We took up our quarters there. I had unpacked, and went into Fred’s room. “Here is a jolly cupboard,” said he opening the door of one big enough for four people to stand in. “If a woman were sleeping here, she would always be thinking someone was hidden in it; it’s a jolly place for boxes and clothes.” He was hanging up something, when he stopped and listened. “Damned if there are not women laughing,” said he, “hish!” But he heard nothing more.
Two or three minutes afterwards he said, “Here Walter,” and both listening heard the voices of women, but very indistinctly. Fred lighted a candle. Said he, “Here is an old door screwed up, it leads into a room. What a lark to get it, open, or a hole through it; nothing I so like as to hear what women say, when they think no one hears them.”
I suggested it was unfair, it might be his sisters’ room. “It don’t matter,” said he, “it’s all in the family.” He went to dinner, and then back to his room. He at once got to the closet, undid his gun-case, and taking out the gun-screw, tried to loosen the screws of the door, but could not. Off he went to the village, came back with a screwdriver, and with some labor opened the door. Then we found ourselves in another empty place nearly as big, and at the end of it rough boards nailed across a frame horizontally, and as we supposed covered over on the other side. It evidently had been a passage, and when they separated the house, they had screwed up the door into the room of which we did not yet know the use, leaving the door at the end next Fred’s room as it was, and had fixed up some woodwork across the end of the passage, thus making the large closet at one end, and the empty space at the other. We were dusty with our job.
After breakfast next day, aunt, Fred and I went round to see his sister and cousin. We saw their bedrooms accompanied by them and aunt. We were in fact shown over the house. Fred had previously looked well at the outside, to see how the windows ran. “What is that room which is shut off?” “Oh!” said his sister, “that is a bath room; look, such a nice one.” We entered it; it was the room up to which the passage at the back of the closet led. Fred winked at me, and when we got back he roared. “Oh! lord, we shall see them naked,—the boards have twisted, there are cracks next the bath room,—we’ll run a knife between one, and through the canvas and paper; then we will see through,—oho! ho! we
shall see the girls bathing,—there are two or three damned fine girls.”
Had it been servants, I should have been delighted at a peep; but to rip a hole to spy on young ladies, and one of those his sister, revolted me. “Damn it Fred, it’s not the thing, one is your own sister.” “Pough! you have seen their cunts.” (It was not the two I had seen.) “Ah! those were children.” “Well———and———are only larger, and have hair on their cunts, and you need not look.” “But if we are found out, we are disgraced; if it were at an hotel or elsewhere, I would not mind.” “It won’t be found out.” “They will see the crack in the paper.” “They won’t, they will think it split by the boards warping, if they do; besides there are cracks and some shelves up, I know exactly the place.”
Nothing stopped him, and after boring, prodding, and getting a chair to stand on to find the right place, he at length made some cracks a few inches long with a knife, and we saw day light through the bath, towels, clothes-pegs, and a large cane settee or sofa. I would not look at first, but so weak is man’s nature concerning a woman, that at length I did, and a thrill of pleasure shot through me as I thought of seeing the naked girls, and strange enough I recollect a feeling of curiosity about the figures my two cousin’s would cut if they were naked. I thought of the quims of his sisters some years before, and wondered what difference between these and those.
Carefully locking the closet we went out. When we returned Fred peeped at every opportunity, but saw nothing that day. The next morning Fred awakened me. “Get up, they are going to bathe, a servant is filling the baths.” It was a cold dark morning. “I shan’t.” “Don’t,” and off he went. In a minute or two however I was by his side. We saw two young ladies enter, strip, and take their baths; the candle-light was imperfect, but we saw them rub their bodies dry, and scrub the wet off their cunts; we saw their hair above and below, and all their little secrets. They were, we afterwards knew, sisters.
“I shall burst,” said Fred, “how do you feel Walter?” I was maddened by desire like him at the sight of the fresh, modest, naked girls cleaning themselves so unsuspectingly; all this in whispers.
Another girl or two came in, they hurried through the operation as if they did not like it. “Here is Carry,” said Fred. I peeped and in came my two cousins. “Lord what a lot of hair she has got on her cunt,” said my shameless cousin. “It’s a damned ungentlemanly thing Fred.” “Well don’t look then,” said he. But I did,—I could not help it; my sense of honor was strong, my lust stronger, and I saw both naked. “Holloa! here is Mrs. Maria,”—it was. She stripped. A fine round, plump, middle-aged woman with a mess of black hair between her thighs, that would have sufficed to stuff a sofa-squab. Fred was smitten. “I’ll be damned,” said he, “if I would not sooner have her than all the others.” I could not get his eyes away to let me have a full look, so much was he taken with her. Indeed when she put one leg on the chair, and rubbed the towel well round her cunt and arse, showing two big, well-set globes, and round arms and thighs, the black hair in her arm-pits, the black hair below, she looked in the feeble light not more than thirty years old, and as fine an arm-full as a man could desire. “What a pity she has never been fucked,” said Fred, “I’ll swear old———can’t do it to her,—he can only frig her.”
Only four or five ladies took a morning bath; we saw the same on two or three mornings. We were shooting all day. Fred then went to shoot with a friend some miles off, I stopped with my aunt at the Rev.———’s house till his return, and walked out with them. Fred went away on a Saturday afternoon, I went to my bed room, thought I would have a peep into the next house, and went to Fred’s room (he had left me the closet key), and saw the bath room quite bright with a large fire. I asked for a fire to be lighted in Fred’s room which was bigger than mine, observing that it was so much better to write in than mine; then making a great display, I sat down to write letters, locked the bed room door, and stationed myself at the crack in the closet.
Oh! what an evening! It soon became evident that the whole household would wash that night. The young ladies came in mostly one at a time, sometimes in pairs, the mistress came in from time to time. The ladies came in, in loose gowns, a chemise and slippers, all but undressed. Everything was quite decorous, the mistress mostly present. Each girl would deposit her gown and chemise on a chair, turning her rump to the other, and get into the bath. When they left it, they stepped out, and came straight to the spot where I could best see them, their cunts towards me, and began to dry themselves. Servants came in and emptied the baths. Some used only a foot-bath. All was done so quietly and demurely that I could scarcely hear a word they said; no girl was supposed I think to see either the bum or belly of the other.
Once when the mistress left, a pair of girls were together, and threw off reserve. One time they got into the bath together, and smacked each other’s bums. The younger girls had come in first in the evening, the elder ones later. The mistress did not come in with the elder ones. This pair talked about my cousin and me. They stood in front of the fire; one tripped across the room, and bolted the door, then each one in succession put a leg on the chair, and they looked at each other’s cunts. Able to bear it no longer, I frigged myself, and may as well say at once that having begun so, I went on. From half-past eight till about ten o’clock did bathing go on. I looking, and frigging myself as often as my cock stood. I saw in succession nearly all the ladies, and four female servants.
Most of the girls who took cold baths in the morning did not come in at night, my cousins excepted. Everyone had hair on her cunt. I knew and recollected some for years afterwards, and when I saw them walking out, or in the ground from our bed room window, and when my cousins came in to dine with us at the Reverend’s house, bringing two of the other young ladies with them; I recollected the look of their bums and bubbies, the quantity and colour of the hair on their cunts as well as if it had been my own prick. I could not converse, my eyes went from one to the other of the girls as their charms rose up in my mind, my prick throbbing. Aunt noticed my silence, and joking me asked if I was falling in love.
It was difficult to hear the conversation; what I did was for the most part chaste, and about trifles, the only exception was the two girls who looked at each other’s quims, and stood near me, half facing the fire. It ran something like this: “I wonder if men look at each other’s things.” “I dare say they do.” “Boys do, Miss Y— said she saw two of her brothers rubbing each other’s things hard.” “Law!” “Yes.” “Is it not funny that the man’s things should be put right up ours?” “Lor yes.” “It seems nasty.” “I wish you could ask———to let us see that book again.” “I have, and she has not got it now.” “It was fun.” “Yes,”—and they both laughed. “Make haste, they will wonder why we are so long.” “Ring the bell.” “Yes.” “Open the bolt.” “Hish! here is someone..”
The servants came in two by two, the mistress came in with the first pair, and told them to put the fire out, When she had gone, “The old skinflint,” said one servant, and put coals on after saying ‘yes’ to her mistress. To me it was always more exciting to see a woman in stockings and boots, than quite naked. The young ladies had come in undressed from their rooms; the servants came dressed, bringing candles with them. They were full-grown women, I felt more pleasure in seeing them gradually undress and uncover. One, a middle-aged woman, said aloud, “I shall only wash my feet, it’s so cold.” She took water out of the big bath, put it into a hip-bath, pulled off her shoes and stockings, tucked her petticoats up to her thighs, and washed her feet by the fire. She was a big-limbed woman, I could not see her cunt. I had seen a dozen that night, yet because I could not see this one’s cunt I seemed to long for it. The other had stripped, and got into the bath, and I could see her naked. She was ugly and middle-aged. I would sooner have fucked anyone of the young women than her, and yet I recollect feeling the most furious bawdiness about her, and frigged looking at her.
Then in came two strong-looking women, but much younger, “Stir the fire,—don’t make a noise, or there will be a row about coals,” said one. “They are all a bed,” said the other. Both stripped to their chemises, one went to the bath. “I shan’t wash after cook,” said she, and she let off the water. “The water won’t be warm, they have drawn off so much.” “Then I won’t wash.” she replied. Then one woman stood by the fire with her back to it, and lifted up her chemise to warm her arse. I saw it sideways as she stood, boots and stockings on.
The other came to the fire. “It will take five minutes to run clean out,” said she. Both drew chairs in front of the fire, sat down and raised their chemises, one edged closer to the other, inclined her head to the other’s thighs, and kissed it, then looked, and placed her hand on the cunt. I could not see the cunt, her back hid it, for she had turned her back to me; then the other one’s hand crossed and the two women sat feeling each other. I don’t think they said a word, if so I could not hear it; their heads were from me. They sat for three or four minutes, kissing and feeling each other.
“Is the door locked?” said one quite aloud, and getting up went to the door, and tried it. Then one laid her clothes on the big settee, and laid down on her back, the other threw up her chemise, kissed, and perhaps licked her cunt. I only know her head covered the cunt, and then she mounted her. I thought it must be fun, for although I had once seen a woman on the top of another, and had heard of such things, I was incredulous. Now I saw them together like man and woman, sometimes between each other’s thighs, sometimes with legs interlaced, and hands grasping each other’s buttocks, the thighs of one raised up round the other’s limbs, the mouths meeting, the backsides wriggling and twisting without ceasing. If they laid so one minute, they remained in each other’s embraces nearly half-an-hour, sometimes quiet, then wriggling again. I heard not a sound, don’t recollect hearing kisses, or anything; but it was difficult to hear, unless they talked loud.
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