We had got to a spot where the lane was crossed by a village-road in which were many good houses. “Oh! pray leave us, we go down here, we have customers in the road.” “Will you meet me?” “Yes,—but don’t follow us.” I did not want to be seen, so we parted, after some arrangements about meeting.
Chapter IX
They went off, I crossed the road into the churchyard, through its posts at the entrance to prevent cattle passing, and over which with difficulty the girls had got their barrow and baskets. It was a huge churchyard, half of it mere field; at one end the rich were buried, and there were rows of tombs and monuments, the rest was only partially filled with tomb-stones of all sizes. As I entered it two women passed me; they were tall, stout, and dusty, had very short petticoats, and thick hob-nailed boots, dark-blue dresses hung over big haunches, little black shawls no larger than handkerchiefs over their backs. They had big black bonnets cocked right upon the tops of their heads, and seemed women who worked out of doors, agricultural laborers perhaps, or perhaps the wives of bargemen, for there was a canal through the village. They had the strong steady walk, and the body well balanced from the hips that you see in woman engaged in outdoor occupations; perhaps they carried strawberries to the London markets in large baskets on their heads, and they walked as firmly as soldiers.
They went past me towards the monuments, both looked at me, and they quickened their pace as they went off. I was dying with want of a fuck. “They are going to piss,” I thought. I knew the spot. We when boys, and I when a youth years before, had laid in wait to see nursemaids and their little charges turn up among the tombs to ease themselves, so I stopped and looked after them.
They heard my footsteps cease, turned round, looked at me, and walked on again. I followed slowly, they walked slower, so did I; they stopped, so did I; one turned round. “Well young man, what do you want following us?” This abashed me for the instant, but my prick standing gave me confidence.
“You are going to piddle, and so am I.” They burst out laughing, then checked themselves, and one said, “Well I’m blessed if you ain’t well cheeked young man.” “Aren’t you?” “It’s no business of yourn what we’re a going to do,—go your way, and we’ll go ours.” “I’ll piddle by the side of you,—I like doing it where a woman does it,” I replied. I was bawdily reckless now.
“I’m damned!—did you ever hear such cheek!—go on young man,—or let us.” On they went, I followed; they stopped, so did I; they muttered together half-laughing, and turning their heads round every minute,—and I went on chaffing about piddling.
They had got to a spot where there was a break in the row of tombs, and a length of turf with grass a foot high, burnt up, and almost made hay in the summer sun. “I’d give each of you a shilling to piss before me,” said I. They had turned into this cross-passage between the tombs, and one could see them from the footpath through the church-yard.
“Oh! Lord,” said one before I had got the words out of my mouth, “I can’t wait,”—and squatting she began pissing whilst I made my offer, and laughing said, “Well if ever I heard the like,—well young man, give it,—I’ll never be paid again for getting rid of my water, I’ll bet,—you do it Sarah.” Sarah said, “I shan’t.” “Don’t be a fool, take his bob.” The other looked at me, the splash of the other woman’s piddle fell on her ear. When anyone wants to piss, and hears another doing it, the desire to piss becomes strong. Down Sarah squatted laughing, and her splash began, before the other had finished pissing.
I wanted to piss, but the rigidity of my prick prevented me; it wanted to evacuate its sperm before it got rid of the thinner liquid. I pulled it out in front of their faces as they squatted side by side, stiff and red-tipped; it throbbed, and knocked up and down in its randiness under every effort I made to turn on the water. One said I was a blackguard. “I want a fuck so bad,—let me have you,—I’ll give you five shillings.” To which of the two I don’t know, for I had no choice, one cunt was as good as another to me at that moment, and I pushed my prick towards one of them, who laughing put it aside with her hand.
“There is a chance for you,” said one to the other (they were both up then). “What do you take me for young man?” said the other, “if my man were here he’d knock your bloody head off.” But both stood looking at my prick and me. I kept on asking, and offering the money,—no one would see us,—one could watch,—and so on.
“Do you live about here?” said one. “No, I am going to see a friend at ———” (naming a place about two miles off.) “Weren’t you never up here before?” “Never in my life,—here is your shilling,”—and I gave it her. “Here is yours.” She would not take it. “Take it Molly.” She took it. “Oh! let me have you,” said I selecting that one now for my addresses.
“This is a bloody lark,” said she, “what do you take us for young man?” “Let me fuck you.” Both stood still looking at me and my prick. “Someone will catch us,” said one moving out from the tombs, and looking up and down the pathway to see if anyone was near, and then came back. I had got close to the other. “Now Molly,” said one anxiously, “what are you about?” “Oh! he’s made me all overish.” “Well if you’d been three months away from your old man as I have, there would be some excuse.” “Never mind,—you won’t blab,—you stand there, and call if you see anyone.” “The grave-digger will catch you.” “No I saw him right over by the church.” “Come away.” “No,—you go and watch.” And so we talked for a few seconds, but I never put my prick out of sight.
“Well,” said the other moving out of sight into the narrow path between the monuments, “you’ll get into a mess.” “No I shan’t,—I’ll let him for the lark of the thing.”
The instant she had gone round the corner the selected one laid hold of my prick. “Do it quick,—someone may come,” said she as she grasped it. “Lie down.” “No I won’t,—it’s dirty.” “No it’s dry,—the grass is quite hay.” I stripped off my coat, made it into a bundle, and placed it for her head. “There,—there,” I said, and pulled her down. She made no resistance. I saw white thighs and belly, black hair on her cunt; and the next minute I was spending up her.
“Shove on,” said she, “I was just coming,”—and she was wriggling and heaving, “go on.” I could always go on pushing after a spend in those days, my prick would not lose its stiffness for minutes afterwards; so I pushed till I thought of doing her a second time; but her pleasure came on, her cunt contracted, and with the usual wriggle and sigh she was over, and there were we laying in copulation, with the dead all around us; another living creature might that moment have been begotten, in its turn to eat, drink, fuck, die, be buried and rot. Suddenly she jerked up her arse, and pushed me.
“Oh!” said she uncunting me, “there is someone,”—and up she jumped. There stood the other woman. “How you frightened me,” said she. “There was no one coming,—well it’s a rum afternoon’s job this,” said she. “Don’t you blab.” “Not I.”
I had hidden my prick, but now my bladder insisted on its requirements being attended to, and I went to the spot which the two ladies had moistened, and pissed on it. The woman who had watched us fucking had dark eyes, she had looked at me without ceasing from the time I had got off from the other, and began pissing. My prick nearly at fucking size still, was pouring forth a copious stream whilst I was feeling its stem which the moisture from the other’s cunt had saturated. Seeing her looking I pulled out balls and all, and finished by shaking my tooleywag. She laughed a low laugh. “I feel all overish myself now.” Her eyes looked like fire at me, fierce, lewd. “I’ll give you five shillings,—let me fuck you too,—she will wait and watch for us.”
“Oh!—o!” said the one whom I just had fucked, twitching about, and suddenly pulling up her petticoats, and looking up them, “there is something crawling up me.” She felt up her petticoats, shaking them, and flourishing them about. “Oh!—oh!—just lift them up, and
look Sarah.”
Her companion lifted her clothes. “Go away young man, you’ve had your game I think.” “Oh! not there,—oh! it’s biting.” “Don’t make that noise.” “Oh! it’s here,—there,—just there.” Slowly the companion lifted the petticoats, first one side, then the other, showing thighs and rump, and a great ugly crawling black thing dropped; it had crawled up her petticoats whilst she was lying on the ground. I had drawn near, and was gloating over the display of charms. “Ain’t he had a treat Molly!” said she.
This sight finished me by making me as stiff as I had been five minutes before; the other one still kept looking at me. “I’ll give you five shillings,” said I. “I’ve a good mind” said she. “Lor let him,—who’ll know?” “How stiff it is!” “Let him.” “Feel it,” said I. The woman put her hand on it. “I’ll go and watch,” said the other moving away. “I shan’t.” “Don’t be a fool,”—and she moved out of sight, leaving us two alone.
Not a word more was said, I pushed her up against the upright railings enclosing a monument; a slight stone-lodge going all round the monument put her about an inch above me, I lifted her clothes, for an instant only saw another dark-haired cunt, and drove my prick up it. She felt pleasure the very first shove that I gave her. “Oh!—oh!—did she do it with you?—did she spend?” she gasped in whispers, looking me full in the face. “Yes she spent.”
That fetched her. “Oh! I’m coming,—oh! it’s a coming,” she gasped, and laid her head over my shoulder. I felt her bum and belly wagging, and a perfect torrent of cunt-liquor ran down on to my balls. I had not long began my fuck, so was slower than with the first woman, and had fetched her a second time before I had finished her standing up against the railings. Then we stood, pressing our bellies together, keeping our genitals coupled, and looking in each other’s faces without speaking, one or two minutes.
“You don’t know these parts?” said she whilst we still were coupled. “I’ve never been here in my life before,” I replied. “How hard your bum is,—are you married?” “Yes.” “Is she?” “No,—let me go, she is coming.” Down flopped my tool, and down fell her petticoats.
The first-fucked came round the corner, then we talked. I had given the first woman her five shillings directly after I had done her, and before she found the reptile in her petticoats; I forgot to pay the other. “Well young man, you’ve made a pair of us go crooked,” said one. “Aye that he have,—we’ve played highjinks.” “Give us a kiss,” said one. I kissed them both, and off they walked. “Hulloh!” said I, “I forgot the five shillings.” “Lord so had I,” said my creditor,—and I gave it her.
“Don’t come our way, the grave-digger knows us,—go straight across there, and round the church.” I watched them going along with their steady step; who could have known from their look and manner, that both had just been fucked! Who can tell the state of any woman’s cunt, whom you may meet anywhere!
I went to my mother’s, the hair on my prick was gummed flat on my belly and balls, I found I had torn a hole in the knee of my trousers, and a lump of turd was sticking to my coat, that I had made her a pillow with, the ground must have been hard and flinty, and someone had shit in the high grass.
What were the women?—certainly not gay. Did they fuck with me for fun, for letch, or for money? I often have thought of it, and came to the conclusion that both were lewd, that my bawdy suggestions made them worse, my prick upset them, and the money finished it; but that wanting a fuck was the main cause; that one whose old man had been away three months, how she looked at me and at my doodle, after I had fucked the first one!
Towards dusk I went to meet my washerwomen. Near the corner of the lane in which they lived was an old-fashioned public-house well back from the road, in front of it were two large elm-trees, beneath them seats where poor people sat drinking and enjoying themselves in Summer. I stopped and looked. Quite at the back sat the two women whom I had fucked; they had pewter pots in front of them, and recognized me at once. Both got up, and rushed inside the public-house rapidly. Funk was on their faces, they seemed to struggle who should get inside the door first. I never saw them afterwards, but at the sight of them my cock stood rigidly, and I would have had them again had it been possible. Many a time since I have been to that churchyard to look at the place among the tombs where we three had our pleasures, and my prick always stiffened when I was there. Such impromptu copulations have a wonderful charm.
Chapter X
Down the lane was the washerwoman’s cottage, it had a little garden in front of it. Through the window I saw the girls ironing by candle-light, I walked about till quite dark, then knocked at the door. The short one opened it, and seeing me shut the door saying, “Oh! you mustn’t call.” So I went away.
Then I wrote asking them to meet me, and got no reply; but I persevered. I was constantly thinking of the girls’ bawdy talk when sitting on the barrow. I went to the house again, after writing to say when I would be at the end of the lane, and found them standing there,—by accident they said, they declared they had not had my letter. That was a lie I knew. I began smutty talk, which they cut short by both going to their cottage.
I wrote letters to the short one again, asking her to meet me, but nothing came of that. At the end of their lane were market-gardens, I saw Esther one evening at that end which joined the high-road, and was close to the public-house where I had seen the women sitting whom I had poked in the village church-yard. It was dark. I asked her to come for a walk, she promised in a few minutes to come to me by the market-garden. “If I don’t,” said she, “it will be because mother is at the door.” But she came.
I swore I was in love with her, which was true to the extent of her cunt, and wanted her to meet me elsewhere,—we would dine, and go to the theatre together. No she could not be out late without a row. I kissed her, which she took to in the darkness kindly enough. I whispered, “I should like to fuck.” “If you say that again,” said she, “I’ll slap your chops.” I did, and she gave me a slap in the face, and ran off. I was hurt, and so annoyed, that I did not follow her, but bawled out, “You’ll split your cunt into your arse-hole if you run like that.” Directly afterwards a voice like as of an oldish female in the darkness said, “Get along you drunken blackguard, the likes of you ought to be locked up.” Insulting the girl by foul-mouthed remarks had not improved I feared my chance of broaching her, and for a while I desisted.
But the letch was strong on me, I went to stay with my mother to be nearer my game, and passed my time in playing billiards at the public-house, and nightly I hunted the girl; so that at length under promise to take her to Vauxhall she agreed to come and dine with me, or as she said, have supper at eight o’clock with me. I usually then went to Vauxhall at ten o’clock.
I went to a French restaurant in the Haymarket, ordered a sitting and bed room, and a good supper. Thought I, “With a feast and champagne with you by myself for a couple of hours, my cock and your cunt will make acquaintance.”
To my annoyance she came with her sister. “I could not stop out late without her,” said she. I made the best of it, though very angry on the quiet at seeing my game baulked.
“I’ll kiss you at once because you have brought your sister unasked, and you Matilda because you came unasked,”—and I kissed both to my heart’s content. They liked it. They were dressed in the vulgarest style of their class, and I felt ashamed of going to Vauxhall with them,—and did not they gorge! Champagne they had never tasted before and they lapped it up like milk. “It gets into your head, don’t it?” said one. “No my dear, champagne gets into your tail,—you’ll want to piddle soon.” “Oh! for shame!” “Never mind there are plenty of chamber-pots in the bed room.” “If you talk that way we’ll go,” said they laughing, but we went on talking and drinking.
Supper over, the waiter out of the room, both girls half-screwed, half-screwed myself and wholly lewd, they both came and sat by me
on the sofa. Sisters again,—what fatality!
The conversation was soon suggestive. Which did they like best, washing a shirt or a chemise? They let out, checked themselves, checked each other. “Lord Esther what are you saying?” “Well Matilda I’m ashamed of you.” “Well that’s pretty conversation for a gentleman,—let’s go,—promise you won’t say anything like it again.” “I won’t,—but tell me one thing,—how did you feel Esther, when you sat on the barrow and said, ‘fuck’?” “You’re a blackguard, I never said anything of the sort,—did I Matilda?” “We’ll go if you keep on so.”
Matilda got jealous. “It’s my turn now,” said she after I had been kissing Esther. The wine got more into all our heads, and we laughed and shouted. “Why did you come Matilda?” “Mother don’t let Esther out alone,—besides I didn’t know what you two might be up to alone.” “What did you think we might be up to?” “Oh! that’s tellings.” This talk went on for a time, gradually getting warmer and more suggestive; all were thinking about fucking, though no one said so.
Erotic Classics II Page 124