After she was well acquainted with two or three baudy houses I grew tired of her, and quarrelled with her. One night I went to my mother's who was ill; and as I passed the end of the lane where Esther lived saw one or two young men and women larking. She and her sister sometimes came to the end of the lane when their work was done, to see the people going along the high-road, and to chat there with neighbours. The men were chivying the girls, and Esther was one of them. I watched them from a safe distance, heard laughing and screeching, and every now and then one of the girls chased by a man darted down the dark lane, and I heard a shriek. There was no light in the lane, and not much even in the high-road from the feeble oil-lamps. I thought also that I saw Esther kissed, she yelled and got away, but it seemed to me she much liked it. For some reason all the wenches suddenly disappeared, and the men, who were of the laboring class, leaned against the railings of the public-house, and talked. I walked slowly by them, and heard one say, "I felt her cunt the other night, so help me Gor." I did not know who he spoke of, but I made up my mind it was Esther.

I wrote Esther to meet me, and then told her she had let a man feel her cunt, and what I had seen and heard. She denied all cheekily, but got confused when I told her what the man said. "I was in the lane," said I afterwards, "and quite towards that end where I have felt you often,—I hid, and I know he was feeling you there." It was a bare-faced lie of mine, because I had gone away; but it was a hit. "He didn't," said she, "though he tried." "I heard him say you felt his prick," said I lying away again, "he went up the lane, and told that tall young man that, 'so help his God', you had." "He wanted to make me, but I didn't,—he is the greatest liar in the place. It was sneaking of you to be hiding like that, and watching me," said she.

I wanted to fuck her, but she would not let me. She slanged me, said I had deceived her, had said I would keep her, and lots of other things,—and off she went. I took no notice for a fortnight, then went to the lodgings of Sarah, and had a talk with her. Sarah said that Esther was mad with me for not writing nor going to see her, and blamed me for not "behaving handsome". "No other man has ever touched Esther," said she, "you don't seem to care about her,—but there's plenty who do,—there are two or three gents about who would be glad to be in your place."

I had her again, then had a desire to get into her sister, and tried several times to see Matilda, caught her standing with Esther in the lane once or twice, but she bolted off directly I went up to her. Once she opened the door to me at her cottage, and slammed it in my face. I had not told Esther what had made Matilda cry out till that day, and then I did. "It's a lie," said she, "you went up my sister Matilda?—what a crammer!" "She might tell her sister," and she did. Matilda said I was a liar, and that what I had done was to shove my finger violently up her, and hurt her very much. Esther believed her sister. Matilda was going to be married to the potman at the public-house close by, I then heard.

After that Esther met me a few times, and her sister seemed much on her mind; for she unvariably after she had felt my prick for a minute would say, "And you mean to tell me it went right into Tilda?" "Yes right in." "Oh! what a story,—it could not have been." I grew tired of her, and she of me,—probably some other man had taken a fancy to her, so I gave her ten pounds one night, told her I was going abroad, and would see her on my return, but I never did. I saw her near my mother's house two years afterwards with quite a genteel well-dressed young man, she looking nice and fresh, but very vulgar. She saw me. Her eyes had a painful expression in them, partly like fear, partly as if she were going to cry; and then she dropped them. They passed me, I of course not taking the slightest notice, but had a cock-stand, and felt jealous, —such a funny thing is male nature. I never saw her afterwards, but saw Sarah the washerwoman and ex-harlot, and gave her five shillings for a chat about the two girls. Esther had gone off with a gent, Matilda had married the potman, who had taken to drink, and used to "whop her." And that is the end of my acquaintance with the two girls.

I had great difficulty in keeping Esther from knowing too much about me, and used a false name, had letters sent to a post-office, and had to do much lying. The oddest thing was that though so near my mother's house, and though I passed her one day when walking with one of my married sisters, she did not know I was often living there, and close by her home; but she found it out just before I parted with her. She knew quite well that the conversation when sitting on the barrow could only have been heard from one of the garden-walls close by the barrow; but I would not at first tell her which. My real name I don't think she ever knew, though I am not sure of that..

Curiosity made me call on ex-harlot Sarah, who lived in one room, and whilst talking I put my hand up her petticoats, on to her cunt. She laughed, opened her thighs wide, and said, "I knowed yer would," and she looked as if a fuck would have gratified her,—but I did not attempt it.



CHAPTER XII.

Preliminary.—My taste for beauty of form.—Sarah Mavis.— Midday in the Quadrant.—No. 13 J... s Street.—A bargain in the hall.—A woman with a will.—Fears about my size.— Muck.—Cold-blooded.—Tyranny.—My temper.—Submission.—A revolt.—A half-gay lady.—Sarah watches me.—A quarrel.— Reconciliation.

I must go back a year or more before the night when I last had Kitty with the yellow hair and yellow motte, to tell the story of my acquaintance with a woman of whom I have little to tell, considering that she more or less is included in the history of my amours for nearly four years, and who will appear more than once some years after that. A word about my sensuous temperament first.

I had early a taste for beauty of female form. Face had for me of course the usual attraction, for beauty of expression always speaks to the soul of a man first. A woman's eyes speak to him before she opens her mouth, and instinctively (for actual knowledge only comes to him in his maturer years) he reads in them liking, dislike, indifference, voluptuousness, desire, sensuous abandonment, or fierce reckless lust.

All these feelings can be seen in a woman's eyes alone, for they express and move with every feeling, every passion, pure or sensual. They can beget in the male pure love as it is called, which is believed to be so till experience teaches that however pure it may be, it cannot exist without the occasional help of a burning throbbing, stiff prick, up a hot, wide-stretched cunt, and a simultaneous discharge of spermatic juices from both organs. The rest of a woman's body, the breasts and limbs, can move lust unaccompanied by love, and if once admiration of them begins lust follows instantly. A small foot, a round, plump leg and thigh, and a fat backside speak to the prick straight. Form is in fact to most, more enticing, and creates a more enduring attachment in men of mature years, than the sweetest face. A plain woman with fine limbs and bum, and firm, full breasts will (unless her cunt be an ugly gash) draw a man to her where the prettiest-faced Miss will fail. Few men, unless their bellies be very big, or they be very old, will keep long to a bony lady whose skinny buttocks can be held in one hand. I early had a taste for female form, it was born with me. Even when a boy I selected partners for dancing because they were what I called crummy, and admired even at one time a fat-arsed middle-aged woman who sold us bull's eyes, because I had caught her exhibiting large legs when squatting down to piss. For years I had had at the period named, two friends, one of whom was a sculptor, who alas! drank himself to death; and one a painter still living as I write this. I had been in their studios, seen their naked models, heard their opinions on both male and female beauty, and had the various points of female perfection shown me on the lady-sitters. I had them explained in two instances by the ladies themselves, in private sittings, and with them I had sexual pleasures which they said the artists had neither got out of them nor given them. I had myself sketched from the nude, and was thought a not bad hand at it, and had therefore by training, instinct, and a most voluptuous temperament become a good judge of beauty of female form.

I did not write the above paragraphs, when I wrote what follows about Sarah Mavis, they are added now many years afterwards, when I am wondering at what I did in those early days, marvelling at my judgment in selection, and seeking the reasons which guided me then in getting for my sexual embraces, as many modes of female beauty of form, as perhaps any one Englishman ever had,—short of a prince.

One Summer's morning about midday, I was in the Quadrant. It had been raining, and the streets were dirty. In front of me I saw a well-grown woman walking with that steady, solid, well-balanced step which I even then knew indicated fleshy limbs, and a fat backside. She was holding her petticoats well up out of the dirt, the common habit of even respectable women then. With gay ladies the habit was to hold them up just a little higher. I saw a pair of feet in lovely boots which seemed perfection, and calves which were exquisite. I fired directly. Just by Beak Street she stopped, and looked into a shop. "Is she gay?" I thought. "No." I followed on, passed her, then turned round, and met her eye. She looked at me, but the look was so steady, indifferent, and with so little of the gay woman in her expression, that I could not make up my mind as to whether she was accessible or not.

She turned back and went on without looking round. Crossing Tichborne Street she raised her petticoats higher, it was very muddy there. I then saw more of both legs, my prick stood at the sight of her limbs, and settled me. I followed quickly, saying as I came close, "Will you come with me?" She made no reply, and I fell behind. Soon she stopped again at a shop, and looked in, and again I said, "May I go with you?" "Yes,—where to?" "Where you like,—-I will follow you." Without replying a word, and without looking at me, without hurrying, she walked steadily on till she entered the house No. 13 J...s Street, which I entered that day for the first time, but many hundreds of times since. Her composure, and the way she stopped from time to time to look at the shops as she went along astonished me: she seemed in no hurry, nor indeed conscious that I was close at her heels, though she knew it.

Inside the house she stopped at the foot of the staircase, and turning round said in a low tone, "What are you going to give me?" "Ten shillings." "I won't go upstairs then, so tell you at once." "What do you want?" "I won't let any one come with me unless they give me a sovereign at least." "I will give you that." Then she mounted, nothing more being said. Asking me the question at the foot of the stairs astonished me, I had been asked it in a room often before, and in the street; but at the foot of a staircase,—never.

We entered a handsome bed-room. Turning round after paying for it, and locking the door, I saw her standing with her back to the light (the curtains were down, but the room was nevertheless light), one arm resting on the mantle-piece. She looked at me fixedly, and I did at her. Then I recollect noticing that her mouth was slightly open, and that she looked seemingly vacantly at me (it always was so), that she had a black silk dress on, and a dark-colored bonnet. Then desire impelled; I went close to her, and began to lift her clothes. She pushed them down in a commanding way saying, "Now none of that."

"Oh! here is your money," said I gutting down a sovereign on the mantle-piece. She broke into a quiet laugh. "I did not mean that," she remarked. "Let me feel you." "Get away," said she impatiently, and turning she took off her bonnet. I then saw she had thick and nearly if not quite black hair, and recollect that I noticed these points just in the order I have narrated them. Then she leaned her arm on the mantle-piece again, and looked at me quietly, her mouth slightly open, and I stood looking at her without speaking, my sperm fermenting in my balls; but I was slightly bothered, almost intimidated by her cold manner,—-a manner so unlike what I usually met with in strumpets.

"You have beautiful legs." "So they say." "Let me see them." She laid down on the sofa, her back to the light, without uttering a word. I threw off coat and waistcoat, and sitting at the foot of the sofa threw up her dress to her knees; higher I tried, but she resisted. Then my fingers felt her cunt, and the delight of the feel and sight of her beautiful limbs overwhelmed me. "Take off your things,—let me see you undressed,—you must be exquisite." My hands roved all about her bum, belly and thighs, and just seeing the flesh above her garters I fell to kissing it, and kissed upwards till the aroma of her cunt met my nostrils, and its thicket met my lips and mingled with my moustache, which I then wore, though so few men then did. I fell on my knees by the side of her, kissing, feeling, and smelling; but she kept her thighs close together, and pushed her petticoats over my head whilst I kissed, so that I saw but little of her beauties.

Then excited almost to madness by my amusement I rose up. "Oh! come to the bed,—come." She lay quite still. "No,—do it here,—leave me alone,—I won't have my clothes pulled up,—I won't be pulled about,—if you want it have me, and have done." "Well get on to the bed." "I shan't." "I can't do it on the sofa." "Well I'm going then." "You shan't till I have had you,—only let me see your thighs." "There then,"—and up went her clothes half-way. "Higher," "I shan't." Now my prick was out. "Get on the bed,—I won't do it here,—take your things off." "I shan't." "You shall." All was said by her in a determined way, but without signs of temper.

She rose without saying another word, I think I see now as I write, her exquisite legs in beautiful silk stockings as they showed when getting off the sofa, and getting on to the bed. "But I want your clothes off." "I won't take them off, I'm in a hurry,—I never do." "Oh! you must." "I won't,—now come and do what you want to do,—I'm in a hurry." She lifted her clothes just high enough to show the fringe of her cunt, and opened her thighs a little. I thrilled with lewd delight as I saw them, and mounted her, laid between them, and inserted my prick. Ah! at my first shove almost I was spending in her.

"Oh! lay quiet dear, I've only been up you a second." "No,—get off, and let me wash." I resisted, but she uncunted me, and got off the bed quickly. "Now don't come near while I wash,—I can't bear a man looking at me washing myself." I insisted, for I was longing to see the form I had scarcely yet had a glimpse of. Putting down the basin she pulled the bed-curtains round her to hide her whilst she slopped her quim. I would not be rude, and saw nothing. Then on went her bonnet. "Are you going first, or I?" said she. "I shall wait as long as you will." "Then I will go first,"—and she was going away when I stopped her.

"When will you again meet me?" "Oh! when out at all, I am up to one o'clock in Regent Street." "Where do you live?" "I shan't say,—good bye." "No,—wait,—come to me this afternoon." "I can't." "This evening." She hesitated. "I can't stay long if I do." "Well an hour and a half." "Perhaps." "Will you take off your clothes then?" "No,—good bye, I am in a hurry." "Meet me at seven o'clock to-night.—do." "No." "At eight then." "Well I will be here expecting you,—but I shan't stop long." "Will you let me see your form up to your waist?" "Oh! I hate being looked at,"—and off she went, leaving me in the room.

I dined at my Club, and was in a fever of lust all day. "Will she come?" for she had only half promised. Half-an-hour before the time I was at the house, and had the same room again. It was handsome throughout, had a big four-post bed with handsome hangings (this was thirty years ago mind) on one side of the room on another side by a partition was a wash-hand stand of marble, against the wall on the opposite side a large glass just at the level of the bed; at the foot of the bed a large sofa opposite to the fire; over the chimney-piece a big glass sloping forwards, so that those sitting or lying on the sofa could see themselves reflected in it; in the angle of the room by the windows a big cheval-glass which could be turned in any direction, two easy-chairs and a bidet, the hangings were of red damask, two large gas-burners were over the chimney-piece angles. It was the most compact, comfortable baudy house bed-room I have perhaps ever been in, although by no means a large room. They charged seven and six for its use, and twenty shillings for the night. Scores of times I have paid both fees. I noticed all this, and that a couple could see their amatory amusements on the bed, on the sofa, or anyhow in fact, by aid of the cheval and other glasses. I was delighted with the room, but in a fever of anxiety lest the lady should not come. I walked about with my prick out, seeing how I looked in the glasses, laid on the bed, and noticed how it looked in the side-glass, squatted on the sofa, glorying in the sight of my balls and stiff-stander. Then I had a sudden fear that she would think my prick small; what put it into my head I never could exactly say, I used when at school to fancy mine was smaller than that of other boys, and some remark of a gay woman about its size made me most sensitive on the topic. I was constantly asking the women if my prick was not smaller than other men's. When they said it was a very good size,—as big as most,—I did not believe them, and I used when I pulled it out, to say in an apologetic tone, "Let's put it up, there's not much of it." "Oh! it's quite big enough," one would say. "I've seen plenty smaller," would say another. But still the idea clung to me, that it was not a prick to be in any way proud of,—which was a great error. But I have told of this weakness more than once before, I think.

I recollect well that night fearing she would think my prick contemptible, and it pained me much, for I was hooked, although I did not know it. I brushed my hair, and made myself inviting with a desire to please her, without thinking that I was taking the trouble to do so for a woman who was going to be fucked for twenty shillings, and whom I now know did not then care how I looked, or who I was, long as she got her money as soon as she could, and got rid of me to make way for another man, or to go and spend what she had earned.

She did not keep her time. I kept listening, and peeping out as I heard footsteps and saw couples bent on sexual pleasure going up the stairs, and heard them overhead walking about. This and the excitement at the recollection of my instantaneous spend between her magnificent thighs, my pulling about my prick and contemplating it in the glass, the moving about of the various couples made me in such a state of randiness that I could scarcely keep from frigging. A servant who had noticed my peeping came in, and begged I would not look out, for customers did not like it. Did they know where my lady lived? and would they send for her? They did not. Then the servant came to say I had been an hour in the room,—did I mean to wait any longer? I knew what that meant, and was about to say I would pay for the room twice, when I heard a heavy, slow tread, and the lady's face appeared.

I grumbled at her delay, she took my complaints quietly, she could not come earlier, was all she said. She pulled off her bonnet, put it on the chair, turned round, leaned her arm on the mantle-piece, and stared at me again in a half-vacant way with her mouth slightly open, just as in the morning. I gave her very little time to stare, for I had my hand on her cunt in no time, and nearly spent in my trowsers as I touched it. She tried the same game,—she would not be pulled about,—she would not let her cunt be looked at,—if I meant to do it, do it, and have done with it. My blood rose. "I'd be damned if I would,—nor pay, nor anything else unless she took her gown off. So she took it off laughing, and laid down on the sofa. Not on the bed. No she would not. Then damned if I would do it (though I was nearly bursting). Again she laughed, and then got on to the bed. I saw breasts of spotless purity, and exquisite shape, bursting out over the corset, threw up the petticoats, saw the dark hair at the bottom of the belly, and the next instant a thrust, a moment's heaving,—quietness,—another thrust,—a sigh,—a gush of sperm,—and again I had finished with but a minute's complete sexual enjoyment only.

"Get up." "I won't" "Let me wash the muck out." "No."—and I pinned her down, squeezed to her belly, grasped her haunches. "I've not done spending." "Yes you have." A wriggle and a jerk, and I was uncunted and swearing. She sat down on the basin, I stooped down, tore aside the curtains, and put my hand on to her gaping cunt. She tried to rise, and pushed me,—I pushed her. She tilted on one side, her bum caught the edge of the basin, and upset the water.

"Damn you," said she,—then she laughed and got up. I pushed her against the side of the bed, and again got my fingers on the cunt,—slippery enough it was. "You're one of those beasts, are you?" said she.

"I've never felt your cunt properly, and I will." "Well let me wash it, and you shall." She did so, I felt it, and then begged for another fuck.

"You are not in a hurry." "Yes I am." "You said you would give me an hour and a half." "Yes, but you have done me, and what is the good of keeping me?" "I mean to do it again." "Double journey double pay." "Nonsense,—you so excited me, that I've never had a proper poke yet." "Well that is no fault of mine." She laughed, and turned questioner. "Do you often have the women from Regent Street?" "Yes." "Do you know many?" "Yes, I vary so." "Ah! you are fond of change,—I thought so,"—and she got talkative after that. I had thought her almost a dummy.

Meanwhile I was gloating over her charms, her beautiful arms, the lovely breasts I now played with, the lovely limbs I saw, for she had sat down in the most enticing position with the ankle of one foot resting on the knee of the other leg. I wanted to pull the clothes higher up the thighs, she resisted, but I saw the beautiful ankles, the tiny boots and feet, the creamy flesh of the thigh just above the garter, thighs thickening, folding over, squeezing together, and hiding her cunt from view when I tried to look up.

I had hid my prick, the fear had come over me of her thinking it small, and that prevented it standing again. An hour ran away. "I'm going," said she rising. My prick stood at the instant. "Let me." "Make haste then." As she stood up I put my hand up her petticoats. She put her hand down, and gave my prick a hard squeeze. I hollowed,—she laughed.

"I've a good mind not to let you,—you've been so long,—but you may do it." She got on to the bedside. "Oh! for God's sake don't move,—that attitude is exquisite." One leg was well on the bed, the petticoats were squeezed up, and the leg on the ground from the boot-heel to about four inches above her garter was visible. She was half turning round, her lovely breasts, or rather one of them showed half-front, and with her head looking round at me as she was moving, it altogether made a ravishingly luscious picture. I put my hands up from behind between her thighs. That broke the spell, she moved on to the bed directly,—I on to her.

"Oh! God you are heavenly, lovely,—oh! God my darling,—oh!" I was spending and kissing her too quickly again; lust almost deprived me of my pleasure. In a dozen shoves I was empty. It was all over.

"How quietly you stood in that attitude," said I. "I can stand in an attitude nearly five minutes without moving, almost without showing that I am breathing, without winking an eye." I thought nothing of this at the time, excepting that it was brag.

"Give me five shillings, for I have been a long time with you,—I've a reason,—I won't ask you again." I gave it her. "Shall you be in Regent Street to-morrow morning?" "Yes."

I was in Regent Street, met her, and had her you may be sure, and repeated these meetings for a week daily, and sometimes twice a day; but got no more than the shortest time with her, the quickest fuck, a rapid uncunting. She did not spend with me, and showed no signs of pleasure, scarcely took the trouble to move her bum, would not undress, would not let me look at her cunt. I submitted to it, for I was caught, but did not know that then,—she did. That is she knew that I was damnably lewd upon her, and used that knowledge to suit her convenience. I had no right to grumble at it. I need not have had her, had I not liked upon those terms. But I did. At length I grumbled, and at last almost had a quarrel. "I won't see you again," said I. "No one asks you," said she.

As my means were not large, and my purse grew rather empty, I was glad to keep away a few days. Then again I saw her in Regent Street; and after giving her the wink followed her. She walked on, but instead of going to the house, passed the end of the street. On she went, I went close to her, it was the second time I had spoken to her in the street. "Oh! I did not understand you," she said, "besides I'm in a hurry." "Oh! do come." "Well I can't stop five minutes." "Nonsense." "Well then I can't,"—and she went on walking. My prick got the better of my temper. "Well come back." She turned round, and bent her way to J...s Street, saying, "Don't let us go in together."

When in the house she got on to the bed without a moment's delay. I had her, and she was out of the house again in less than ten minutes, leaving me in a very angry state of mind; but she promised to meet me the following night if she could, and to stay longer with me.

She came an hour late, and found me fretting and fuming in the bed-room. They did not hurry me now at that house, I being already known there, and gave me whenever they could the same chamber. "I'm in a great hurry," were the first words Sarah said. "Why you told me you would stay longer." "Yes,—I am sorry, but I can't." "You never can,—but take off your gown." "I really can't,—have me at the side of the bed,—you wanted it so the other day." "No I won't." "Then I'll get on the bed,"—and on she got.

I tried to open her legs, to turn her round to see her bum (I had never seen it yet properly). No she would not undress, she would do nothing,—I might have it her way, or leave it alone and go. How green it was to submit to all this.

I lost my temper, for my delight I saw was in her lovely form, in her physical beauty; whilst she seemed to think that the only joy I could have was to spend in her cunt as fast as I could. "I won't have you at all," said I getting resolute at last. "All right," said she getting off the bed, "I'm really in a hurry,—another night I will." "Another night be damned—you are nearly a bilk,—there,"—and I threw the sovereign on a table, and put on my hat. "Are you going?" "Yes, I'm going to get some woman who is not ashamed of her cunt." "Go along then." Off I went. When halfway down the stairs I heard her calling to me to come back, but savage I went off.

I walked up Regent Street savage with her, and with myself too, for not having had my fuck, even if she had gone away a minute afterwards. Randy as the devil I saw a woman at the corner of the Circus, and accosted her, she turned away, I accosted her again. "Will you come with me?" "Yes if you like." "Do you know a house about here?" "No I'm a stranger." Then I took her to J... s Street, had her two or three times and toyed with her a long time, stopping till she would stop no longer, saying she should be locked out if she was not off. She was only half-gay I think, and wanted a fuck. I had just offered myself in time. She was a biggish woman of about thirty years of age. After I had fucked her the first time, we laid on the bed together; she played with my prick till it was stiff again, and then turning on to her back said, "Come on,—let's have it again."

I thought much of my fine-limbed Sarah Mavis, but it was with anger. A fuck for ten shillings was all very well when randy, but even when in a hurry I never was satisfied till I had pulled the cunt open, and given it a general inspection, although it was generally but a rapid one in those days. If I had the same woman again another day, it was because I liked her and liked to talk to her, for I always found them more complaisant the longer I knew them. But here had I been having a woman daily, and sometimes twice a day, mainly because she was so exquisite in form (for I had some idea even then that her cunt was not a good fit to my prick;) yet I had never seen her cunt; nor her backside, nor her bubbies, nor her arm-pits,' nor her navel, nor anything properly, and so I determined not to have her again, and to dismiss her from my mind. But I was hooked.

To economize I again went with cheap women, and seemed to get just as nice women for ten shillings as I did for twenty; but I had taken a liking for the house in J...s Street, which was an expensive one, and liked the best room, and took my cheap women to my dear room. One woman said, "Well you might give me a little more, and have a cheaper room,—the room gets nearly as much as you give me." And I saw a woman there one night pocket the comb, and a piece of soap,—she stole them. I heard in pleasant conversation afterwards, that soap and combs were often stolen by women,—especially soap.

About a fortnight afterwards I saw my Venus again, and again was closetted with her. I could resist my desire for her no longer, for having never ceased thinking of her even when fucking other women. She was just as calm, but there was a little, quiet spite about her. When she had taken off her bonnet, and looked at me for a minute with her mouth open as usual, she said, "I suppose you have been having other women." I can't tell why it was, but I lied, and said "no." "What did you go upstairs with one for?" said she, "the night after you left me,—I was in the parlour, and peeping through the door saw you and the woman who stumbled at the foot of the stairs" (which was the fact). "Well I did," I replied, "and saw her cunt,—and that's more than I ever saw of yours." "You've seen as much as you will." Putting on my hat in rage, "Then I may as well go,—here is your money,"—and I turned towards the door. "Don't be a fool," said she, "what do you want?—what do all you men want?—you are all beasts alike,—you're never satisfied." She was angry. "Don't be in a hurry, and let's see your precious cunt." I recollect saying that very distinctly, being angry,—and that up to that time I had been chaste in my remarks. I was at that time of my life not at all lewd or strong in word with women when we first met, but was somewhat less so so soon as I warmed, and only when randy to the highest degree or by fits and starts, spiced my conversation highly with lewd expressions.



CHAPTER XIII.

Sarah's complaisance.—Mistress Hannah.—About Sarah.— Sexual indifference.—After dinner.—Stark naked at last.— Her form.—The scar.—Hannah's friendship.—The baudy house parlour.—The Guardsman.—Sarah's greed.—A change in her manner.—A miscarriage.—Going abroad.—I am madly in love.—Sarah's history.

She laughed. "Well I will,—but don't make me undress,—I'm in a hurry." "Of course,—you always are." She laid on the sofa, and pulled up her clothes,—she was yielding. "No,—come here." She came, and laid on the side of the bed. At length I saw those glorious thighs open wider, the dark-shaded crack with the swelling lips showed itself more freely than I had ever seen it before. I dropped on my knees, and propping up one of her feet with my hand, lifted the leg so that the thighs distended, and a large bit of crimson nymphae began to show, the faint but delicious odour of her cunt stole up my nostrils, my lips closed on her gap, and kissed it lecherously, my brain whirled as my nose rubbed in the thicket of dark hair, and my lip touched her clitoris. I know nothing more excepting that I was up her as she laid there, and spending as quickly as ever, before I had in fact well plugged her. "Are you satisfied?" said she as she looked up from washing her cunt by the side of me. "No, it's so quick,—you fetch me so quickly." "That is no fault of mine." She had said so often before. I recollect all these apparently trivial, these various feelings and circumstances, as well as if it were yesterday, for she had made her mark on me.

I had partly conquered, and saw my victory. "I like seeing you so," said I, "but won't see you, or any other woman who won't let me see her charms, and who is always in such a hurry,—it would be all very well if I saw you for the first time—(why you have a new black silk dress on." "Yes, I bought it with your money," said she),—"but for a regular friend as I am, it is unsupportable." I conquered more, and subsequently, told her that I might be in Regent Street one day, but I did not go there (I had made no promise). She said she went out against her will to see me,—could I write to say when she was to meet me? No,—but I could write to the baudy house, and they would send on the letter. I called there one morning, and left a letter. The Mistress was a shortish sandy-haired woman about thirty years old, with a white face; she looked very fixedly at me, and smiled. She would send on the letter to Miss Sarah Mavis which I found was the name she went by; but Sarah never came to my letter, and I paid for the room for nothing. Then I sent for the Mistress; had a bottle of champagne with her, and she opened her heart a little, she was soon a little screwed, and this was what she told me. Her name was Hannah.

She had not known Miss Mavis long,—only a month or so before she had come in with me,—did not often see her now excepting with me. Mavis had been asking if I had been seen in the house with any other woman, "and of course I did not tell her," said Sandyhead. She thought her a nice woman, and had struck up acquaintance with her. Now she often came into the parlour to chat with her when I had left, or before she came upstairs to me, when I was at the house before my appointed time.

Things went on thus for a little time longer, Sarah doing much as she liked, but certainly becoming more complaisant. She stopped longer, we began to talk; I was of course curious about her, she about me, I dare say she got much out of me, I but little out of her. What I mainly learned was that she only came on the streets occasionally, and from about eleven to one o'clock in the day,—never afterwards; and when she had sufficient money to "go on with," as she said, she came not out at all. "I hate it," said she, "hate you men,—you are all beasts,—you're never satisfied unless you are pulling a woman about in all manner of ways." "It pleases us," said I, "we admire you so." "Well it does not please me,—I want them to do what they have to do, and let me go." "Why don't you go out in the afternoon or evening?" "No, I get my money in the morning, and have other things to do the rest of the day."

She had not been gay long,—not more than a month before I had met her,—was taken to the house in J... s Street by the first man who met her in the streets, and had been there often since. No she never had been gay before, she would swear, and often wished she were dead rather than have to come out, and let men pull her about, and put their nasty muck into her,—"nasty muck" was always the pleasant way in which she spoke of a man's sperm.

"One would think you never cared about a poke,—I wonder how often you spend." "Oh! it's all the same to me whether I have it, or whether I don't,—if I do it once a fortnight it's as much as I care about,—you beasts of men seem to think of nothing else, and you leave us poor women all the trouble that comes from putting your muck into us." "What the devil do you care about?" said I after a chat with her one day, in which she had just said what I have narrated. "Oh! I don't care about anything much."

Another day she said, "I like a nice dinner, and then a read in an arm-chair, till I go to sleep, or a nice bit of supper, and to get into bed,—I'm so tired of a night, I like to get to bed early if I can." We went on talking about eating and drinking; she told me what she liked, and what she disliked with much gusto and earnestness. "I'll give you a good dinner", said I, "and we will come here afterwards." "Will you?" "Yes,—but I won't unless I have you three hours here." "Impossible,—I dare not be out after half-past ten." "Come early." "I can't come very early, for I must be home in the afternoon." There were all sorts of obstacles,—so many that I gave it up, not going to be humbugged. But she would not give it up, and it was arranged that if she might name the evening, she would be with me at six o'clock, and stay with me till ten,—an immense concession,—it was the dinner that did it. I saw she was fond of her stomach, and that made me offer the dinner as a bait.

She would not come in after me to the restaurant, I was to meet her at the corner of St. Martin's lane in a cab, and go with her,—and so it came off. We went to the Cafe de P..v...e in Leicester square, I had already ordered a private room, and a nice dinner. My God how she enjoyed it! "It's a long time since I've had such a good dinner", said she, "but never mind, better times are coming again for me, I feel sure." She ate largely, she drank well, and to my astonishment when I got up to kiss her, she kissed me in return, and gave my piercer the slightest possible pinch outside my trowsers. "Let's feel you," said I. Equally astonished was I when she said, "Bolt the door, the waiter may be in,"—and then I had a grope, and she felt my prick. "Let's go—let's go,—I am dying for you." Off we went arm in arm. Directly we were well away from the Cafe she let go my arm. "You go first, and I will follow." I thought she was going to cheat me. "I dare not be seen walking arm in arm with a man,—but I will follow." In five minutes we were in the room together. Sarah Mavis was just in the slightest degree elevated, and perhaps more than slightly lewd.

To pull off my things, to help her off with hers partially was the work of a minute. "I must piddle first,—champagne always makes me want to piddle so." "Does it make you randy?" "Oh! Lord it does sometimes; but it's such a time since I tasted it before tonight, I almost forget." "Are you so now?" "Oh! I don't know,—come on the bed," said she. She opened her thighs wide, she let me grope and smell, and kiss, and see. "Come on,—do." Instinct told me she wanted it, I embraced her, and was enjoying her, when she clasped me firmly, sought my mouth. "Oh! my darling, I'm co—-com—h—hing," said she spending as she cried out, and fetched me at the same instant. It was the first time she had ever spent with me.

We laid in heavenly quietness, prick and cunt in holy junction, distilling, slobbering, and bedewing each other's mouths and privates, whilst the soft voluptuous pleasure was creeping through our limbs, bodies, and senses. She was in no hurry to wash out the muck. "Oh! I'm chocking," said she after a time, "get off." "I won't." "Oh! do,—my stays choke me when I lie down after food,—I'm almost suffocated." I held fast. "If I get off, you won't let me do it again." "Yes,—yes I will." She jerked my prick out of her cunt, I got to the side of the bed, she sat up, and was about to get off, when I stopped her, and together we undid her stays, and took them off. "Let me wash now." "No you shan't,—I've never yet fucked with my first sperm in you,—let me now, there is a darling." She laughed, and fell back; then for a few minutes we kissed and toyed. Her magnificent breasts were now free, I buried my face between them, and kissed them rapturously; her moistened quim I felt, and it drove me wild with desire; so gluing my mouth to hers I mounted her, and we were soon in Elysium again, Sarah enjoying her fuck in a way I thought from her cold-blooded manner previously she was quite incapable of,—and there we laid, nestling cock and cunt together, till a slight sleep or doze overtook both of us.

In a minute or two Sarah sprang up, and rushed to the basin. I lay still, contemplating her, and saying I would not wash my prick for a week, so that I might retain in the roots and its moistened fringe our mixed juices, the remnants of our first spend together. When she had washed she laid down by the side of me. "Let's have a nap," said she. The wine seemed to be getting into her head more and more, though she was but in the slightest degree fuddled.

I could not sleep. The sight of her breasts relieved from her stays, the free manner in which she let her petticoats lay half up her thighs, the delight at finding her take pleasure in my embraces, exulted me beyond measure. I joked and tickled her. "Let's see you naked." "You shan't." "Well stand up, and let me see your limbs naked,—take off your petticoats, even if you keep your chemise on." She was yielding, took petticoats off, but would do no more. I had seen more than any other man, and she would do no more, she said. The wine had evaporated, and she was herself again, quiet, composed.

Maddened with desire. "I'll give you a sovereign," I said, "to take the chemise off." "Will you!" "Yes." "No I won't." "I'll give you two." "What can you want to see more for?" "Hang it, take the money, and let me, or I'll rip it off without paying." I closed with her, and struggled, pulled the chemise up above her haunches, pulled it down below her breasts, tore it. "Now don't,—I won't have it," said she getting angry, "it won't please you if I do,—you will not like to see me half as well afterwards, I tell you." "Yes I shall,—here is the money,—now let me see you naked, I'll give you three sovereigns."

She pushed me away, and sat down. "Where is the money?" said she. I gave it her. "I've got an ugly scar,—I don't like it seen." "Never mind,—show it." Slowly she dropped the chemise, and stood in all her naked beauty, and pointing to a scar just below her breasts, and about four inches above her navel, "There," said she, "is it not ugly?—does it not spoil me!—how I hate it!"

I told her no,—that she was so beautiful, that it mattered not. Yet ugly it was. A seam looking like a piece of parchment which had been held close to a fire and crinkled, and then glazed, star-shaped, white, and as big as a large egg lay between her breasts and her navel. It was the only defect on one of the most perfect and beautiful forms that God ever had created.

"There," said she covering it up, "you won't want me naked again,—now I dare say you don't like me as much." Yes I did. "Do you?" "Yes." She came and kissed me. I often had her as naked as she was born afterwards.

"What is the time?" "Ten o'clock." "I must go." "Another poke." "Make haste then." We had it. "Oh! now don't keep me,—if I'm not home by half-past ten I shall be half murdered." She had let expressions like that drop more than once; but I got no explanation excepting that she lived with her father and mother,—and at that time I believed it.

At the next meeting she had her old quiet manner, her old "keep your distance" was attempted; but it was impossible. A woman must always give again what she has once given, she cannot help it. Then came more dinners, but she was more cautious now in what she ate and drank, less reckless in her embraces of me; but we were closer acquaintances than we had been; she let me pull her about more freely and as a matter of course, washed her quim without hiding herself for that operation, and so on,—yet still she held me at a great distance, and was reserved. She conquered me, in a degree.

In fact she did pretty well what she liked with me; saw me when she liked, stopped with me as long as she thought proper, let me fuck her just as often as she liked, and no more (and it was rarely she let me do that more than once a day), see to her knees, or to her cunt, or pull her about just in the degree she for the time thought fit to permit. I grumbled, said I would see more complaisant women. "Well I might if I liked,"—but I did not. Her indifference to sexual pleasure chilled and annoyed me and for a reason I never could understand, her cunt never seemed quite to fit me, nor fetch me with the voluptuousness that scores of other women have done. Yet I saw her almost exclusively for three years, and when she gave herself up to pleasure with me, my delight was unbounded; when she let me have her with her cunt unwashed after our first copulation, I thought of it for days afterwards. Altogether she had her way with me in a manner I did not see, and have only comprehended since.

This went on for some months. Whether she had other male friends or not I don't know, but I never found her in Regent Street or other places where I had once been able to find her, after I began to see her regularly, and have reason to think that she ceased casuals after she had me, and perchance another, that is all. Hannah said often at a future day that I was her only friend.

I have not yet described her. She was of perfect height for a woman, say five feet seven, her form from her chin to her toe-nails was faultless, if anything inclining to too much flesh, and to too great a backside; but then I liked flesh, and a woman's bum could not be too big for me. I used to rub my lips and cheeks over her bum for a quarter of an hour at a time, when she condescended to turn it upwards for so long a time for that worship. Handsome her face certainly was, but it was of a somewhat heavy character: her eyes were dark, soft, and vague in expression which together with the habit of leaving her lips slightly open, gave her a thoughtful, and at times half-vacant look. Her nose was charming and retrousse, her mouth small, with full lips, and a delicious set of very small white teeth, her hair was nearly black, long, thick, and coarsish dark hair in large quantity was in her armpits, and showed slightly when her arms were down, her arms and breasts were superb. Her cunt was thick-lipped, and with largish inner lips which showed well in nearly the whole length of the split; her mons was very plump, and covered well, but not widely with crisp black hair. She looked twenty-six, yet was not more than twenty-two, and she looked most handsome when lying asleep.

If I were asked the most perfect thing about her, I should say her feet and legs up to her notch—they were simply perfect; I have seen them as handsome in smaller women, never in one of her height. I must add that her cunt was large both outside and inside, and that she was not a voluptuous poke to me, but why I can only guess at now; I did not know it whilst I was acquainted with her.

"A little of that satisfies me," she would say of poking, "once a week,—once a fortnight, excepting at times,—you men are beasts, all of you." She at first refused my mouth, never moved her bum, and laid like a log. "Here I am,—do what you like,—do it, and get it over,—or leave it," was her common mode of meeting my grumbling. Her first sexual pleasure with me was I believe the night she dined with me; afterwards she took pleasure with me more frequently, but un-cunting me, and rushing out of bed to wash the instant I had spent, before I had indeed done spending; until a sudden change in her took place which I shall tell of, and then she was kinder, more lustful, or perhaps I might say more loving, and more reckless; letting me enjoy her after my own fashion, and abandoning herself to enjoyment as much as it was perhaps in her nature to do so.

I found that she often now was with the keeper of the house, or rather she who represented her,—Hannah. So I got acquainted more closely with Hannah, would go into her parlour, and talk with her before Sarah came. This began one day when I was awaiting Sarah by her asking me if I would cast up a column of figures, nearly the whole of which was in five shillings and seven and sixes. I did it once, then I did it a second time. Going in one day just afterwards she stepped out from her parlour, and thanked me. I stepped into the parlour, and got into the custom of doing so,—if ladies were not in there,—but there was a good introduction business done, as will be seen, and oftentimes ladies were waiting there till their swains arrived.

One day she cooked a luncheon for me, once a breakfast, the latter was during the time I had quarrelled with Sarah, and took another woman to sleep with me there. I complimented her on her cooking, she was half groggy (as she often was), and was very talkative. "Lord," said she, "you have tasted my dinners many a times." "Nonsense." "Yes you have."

"Where?" "Do you recollect a ball at———, where all the servants were allowed to look at the table before supper, and your coming down with Mr.———, and we all scuffling back?" "Perfectly." "Well I cooked that supper." Then it turned out that she had been cook at a house where I was a constant visitor, she had recognized me at once, but did not recollect my name, or so she said,—indeed it was not probable that she knew it. She had been caught with a soldier in the house, and had been kicked out.

Now by chance of fortune she was keeper of a baudy house, and her soldier visited her there when in London,—he was a Guardsman,—and she supplied him with money, and lots he had, for she robbed her Mistress wholesale of the baudy house profits.

Hannah had two sisters; one a married woman with a bad husband, and several children. She often came and assisted at J.... s Street, sometimes acting as chambermaid,—and about two years after this period of my history, a second one appeared who had been a housemaid, and who had I suppose also lost her character. A pretty blue-eyed girl about twenty years old with a cast in her eye, and a lovely leg up to within a few inches of her cunt. I never saw higher, and shall have more to say about her hereafter. Her name was, Susan—a sailor was said to be in love with her.

Sarah at the end of some months asked me to give her five pounds, and soon afterwards ten pounds. She was going to make up a sum of money to buy a business for her father. She had been dressing very shabbily I noticed, and said she knew I did not mind that, and it was all because she was trying to save money,—to quit that life she hoped,—and I believed it. I could not get her for several days, yet could have sworn I had heard her voice one day in loud altercation with a man in the parlour when I was waiting for her upstairs. I rang and asked for her; the servant came, and asserted that Miss Mavis was not there, and I never saw her that night. Next day I made an appointment (through Hannah) for eleven a.m., and waited a long time before she came up. She looked ill. "You've been crying." "I have not." "Yes you have,—your eyes are red,—aye, and wet now." She asserted she had not, and then burst out sobbing saying she was unwell. I was distressed, and sent for wine, Hannah came up and comforted her (I saw Hannah knew all about it). Then we were left to ourselves. "I've never been abed all night," said Sarah. "Come to bed now." To my extreme astonishment into bed she came, after looking at me in a very earnest manner.

I had often asked her before, and she never would; saying she never had been in bed but with one man, and never meant. I was enraptured, stripped to my skin, and was soon pressing every part of her body to mine. She gave herself up to me entirely, her tongue met mine as we spent. "Don't throw me out now dear." "Very well." Oh! miracle, I thought, and there we lay, prick and cunt soaking together, till we had another fuck, then she dozed off in my arms, and I soon afterwards. We slept more than two hours, then my fingers sought her cunt directly; and awakened her. I told her the time, she sighed saying, "It's no matter,—it serves them right." It was a day of miracles, Hannah sent up food, we ate it in bed, we fucked again and again. I was delighted with the spunk we left on the sheets; then we dined at the Cafe, and went back to the baudy house,—more fucking, no cunt-washing, all was free baudy, abandonment.

Hannah came up to us about the time Sarah usually left me, and told her it was time to go. Sarah said she did not care a damn, Hannah begged her to go,—she would go home with her. She agreed to go, kissed me, and said I was a kind fellow. I waited outside, and tried to dodge her home; but was unsuccessful; the two discovered me, stopped, and upbraided me, and came back to the baudy house. Then she made me promise not to follow her, and went out to piddle as she said. Hannah followed, I waited five minutes for them, and then called to the servant. She came in with a demure face, and said "Lor sir they have both gone out five minutes ago."

For weeks after that Sarah was changed, and with the exception of not stripping entirely did as freely as I wished, she did everything I wanted, but sleep with me all night; she kept out later, but away at night she went; she embraced me, enjoyed her fucking, and in fact treated me like a husband. Then she said one day, "I'm some months gone in the family way." "Who's the dad?" "You perhaps." "No I'm not,—it's some man you are fond of, not me." "I am fond of no man," said she. Then she was ill, and away for three weeks, she had had a miscarriage. I was in despair, and sent her money all the time of her illness, but could learn nothing from Hannah, excepting that Sarah was a dear good woman, and too good for him. That was said before the sister, who cried out, "You shut up Hannah." So I came to the conclusion there was some other man in the way.

Another day I pumped Hannah, but she was an old bird, and not easily caught. "She is fond of a man," I said. "She is not a fond sort,—if she is fond of any man at all it's you,—but she has got her duty to do." "What's that?" "Ask her,—I don't know her business. Now you get out, there are some ladies coming here directly, and Miss Mavis won't like your being here with them." "I'm not her property." "Pretty nearly you are,—at all events go, there is a good gentleman. Whilst Sarah was away I did get acquainted with three or four ladies, and two of them I had. Sarah had then either gone abroad or I had had a desperate quarrel with her.

When Sarah met me again she was still miserably ill, and thanked me for my kindness warmly. We resumed our meetings, and again she was cautious, but no longer bounced me. She spent with me, enjoyed me, but entreated me. "Oh! let me wash out the muck,—now do pull it out,—I am so frightened of being ill again." So I let her have her way. She refused to say anything about her illness, excepting that it was I who had caused it; but I did not believe her. She usually now gave way to pleasure with me; at the end of the month I gave her twenty pounds to make up a sum, then she got still more exacting about money. "Oh! I do stop a long time with you,—give me more money,—do,—I want to make up a sum," etc., etc.,—and then of course came a lie. At length she said one bright sunny morning it was, I had poked her, and was laying on the sofa afterwards, she sitting on the easy-chair, her lovely breasts out, one beautiful leg over the other showing slightly the flesh of her thighs, "You won't see much more of me,—we are going abroad."

I started as if I had been shot at. "You?—nonsense,—never." "I am indeed,—I'm sick of this life, and will go anywhere, do anything to get out of it."

I sank back on the sofa sobbing, it came home to me all at once that I was madly in love with her. I was dazed with my own discovery,—I in love with a gay woman! one whose cunt might have had a thousand pricks up it! who might have sprung from any dung-hill!—impossible! I felt mad with myself,—degraded!—impossible,—it could not be,—and for a time I conquered myself. I tried then to draw her out about herself. It was useless. Her quiet way of asserting that she was going at length brought home the conviction that she spoke the truth. Then I laid and sobbed on the sofa for half-an-hour. "Oh! you will soon get another friend," said she. "No, no,—I can get a woman, but not one I shall like,—Sarah my darling, Sarah I love you,—I dote on you,—oh! for God's sake don't leave,—come with me,—you shan't lead this life,—we will go abroad together."

"That is impossible,—if I did you would leave me, and then what should I do?—come back to this life,—no." "You are going with somebody else,—who?" "I can't say,—I'll tell you when I am gone." "When are you going?" "Perhaps in a fortnight, perhaps a little later on."

I calmed for a time, a fortnight might give me a chance of persuading her, and I began it at once; but it was all, "No,—no,—no,—it's all for the best for both of us,"—and again I fell into deep despair, my heart felt breaking, I had been so happy with this woman for months, she had so filled my thoughts, so occupied my spare time, that I had half forgotten my home life. Now I felt alone again, I had told her some of my troubles,—not all,—now I poured them all out, and offered everything,—all I had,—to go that next day abroad, and never return; that I would make her love me though she did not now, I promised all men could promise,—and meant it.

"No,—no,—impossible,"—and again I fell back on the sofa sobbing like an infant, I have almost the deadly heart-ache now as I write this. She sat looking at me for some time, then she arose, stooped over me, and kissed me. I turned round, and—how strange that in my despair I noticed it, and now recollect noticing it!—as she stooped her chemise opened, and as I put my arm round her, her breasts touched my face, and as I moved to kiss them I saw her whole lovely form down to her feet, the dark hair of her motte, the bright white scar; and all in the soft subdued light which is on a woman's body when enveloped in a thin chemise,—and my prick stood whilst kissing her and sobbing, and she was soothing me.

"It's of no use your loving me," she said, "and it's of no use my loving you,—don't take on so,—perhaps when I am gone you will be happier at home,—I can't love you, although I like you very much, for you have been a good, kind man to me,—I nearly do love you I think,—if I were with you I'm sure I should,—but it's of no use, for I am a married woman, and have two children, and am going with them and my husband."

I was amazed, and doubted it. "I'll bring you my children to see," said she, "it was to get them their dinners and tea that I always left you at times as I have." "And at night?" "I always go home before he comes home." "You always go home to your husband?" "Yes."

How I loathed that man!—my loathing rose to my lips. "That miserable contemptible cur lives by your body,—a dirty vagabond." "No he's not,—poor fellow, he would earn our living if he could, but he can't." "I don't believe it,—a man who lives by a woman is barely a man,—I would empty cesspools to keep a woman I loved, rather than another man should stroke her,—no good can come of it,—he'll leave you for some other woman some day." Sarah turned nasty, said she was sorry she had told me so much, that all I said against him only made her like him the more; and so leaving me in sorrow she went away.

Now that I felt sure she was going away, I could not see too much of her; morning, noon, and night I had her. She brought her two children to me, and very proud she was of them. How it was I never noticed the marks of childbirth on her before I know not, but I never had. I spoke of that now. "I took good care you should not," said she smiling, and I recollected that when I had her by the side of the bed, when I looked at her on the sofa, it was nearly always with her back to the light; when laying on the bed, and I tried to gratify my passion by opening her thighs, and gazing on her hidden charms, she nearly always half-turned towards the window, and her belly was in shadow. "I don't like to be pulled about,—I won't have it,—if you want me have me, and have done with it,—get another woman if you like who will do it, or allow it,—I won't." These and similar answers always settled me, and I submitted, for I was under her domination, and in my folly I had actually feared that if I persisted, she would not come to see me.

She brought her children in the morning to me at J...s Street, and I had her that afternoon. Now she was free enough, pointed herself to the marks of childbirth (very slight they were), and voluptuously held her cunt-lips open,—she had never done so before. From that day and afterwards she allowed me to see her in every way or manner, if not to let me do what I wished. The mystery was over, I knew most if not all,—certainly all about her person.



CHAPTER XIV.

Poses plastiques.—Sarah departs.—My despair.—Hannah's comfort.—Foolscap and masturbation.—Cheap cunt.—A Mulatto.—The baudy house accounts.—Concerning Sarah.—The parlour.—The gay ladies there.—My virtue.—Louisa Fisher.— A show of legs.—The consequence on me.—Effect on Mrs. X..i.

I dined with Sarah repeatedly until her departure, she was now often in low spirits, and drank very freely of champagne; then would fuck with a passion and energy which did not seem natural to her, for by look and general manner one would have sworn she was even tempered, and without much passion,—had I not found that out by experience? One night soon after she had brought her children to me, she seemed wild with lust. What was the matter with me I don't know, but I had no desire for her, and could scarcely stiffen for the embrace; yet she was in ecstacies with me as I fucked her. "Do it again," said she. "I can't." "You must do it,—I've not washed." "I can't." "Yes,—yes.—I'm mad for you," said she,—and we kept on fucking till early the next morning. "I am in the family way again I think," said she as she left, "and if so will jump over Westminster Bridge." But she was not, and after that night she persuaded me not to spend in her, but to withdraw just as my emission took place. "It will spoil all my plans if I am in the family way," said she, "all I have done will be of no use if I cannot act." "Act?" "Yes, I am an actress." "Does not your husband spend in you?" "No one has spent in me but you, since my miscarriage,—I won't let him, and he doesn't want me in the family way."

"You an actress!" "Yes,—have you never seen me?" "No." "Are you sure?" "Yes." "Did you ever see the Poses plastiques and Madame W...t.n?" "Yes, two or three years ago." "Well I was one of her troupe." "God God!—and what do you do now?" "Nothing,—but we have a troupe going on the Continent,—I am the principal—I am Madame W...t.n now."

Then she told me she had in her youth been a model for artists, had sat to Etty and Frost, hers was the form which had been painted in many of their pictures,—and then she would say no more.

I grew sadder and sadder as the time came for her departure; so did she. She said I worried and unsettled her; she wondered sometimes if she were doing the best thing for herself and children or not. She was so frightened lest she should get in the family way, that as already said she made me withdraw before the critical moment, spending my sperm on her thighs or on the crisp hair of her motte. I got an idea into my head (a stupid one enough), that if she were to get in the family way by me she would stay in London; and one night after we had dined, and she had had pleasure in my groping, and as usual had said, "Now don't do it in me," I plunged my prick up, and spent a full stream in her cunt. "I hope to God that sperm's all up your womb," said I. Her own pleasure had so overcome her, that she could not move for a minute; then jumping up she washed herself with a sponge,—she recently had used one. I never had a spend in her again for months afterwards.

Then for hours I used to look her over and over from head to foot, as if I wished to recollect every part of her person for ever afterwards: the roots of her hair, the ears, the way the hair grew on the nape of her neck; the way it grew on her cunt, and in her arm-pits, and every other part I used to look over as if searching for something; the only part of her which escaped my investigations was the bum-furrow, which was to me an uncomfortable part in all women, and in my wildest sexual ecstacies and aberrations I neither felt it nor saw it, and don't know whether the hole was round or square; red or brown.

After she had told me she had sat as a model, she brought me a small oil-painting of herself made by an artist of some rank. She was proud of it, and so was her husband. I offered such a price for it, that placed as she was she could not resist, and I bought it. She gave me one day a photograph of herself; both had the characteristic opening of the lips well shown. It is only recently that I have destroyed these mementos of a dead affection.

When I saw that nothing would keep her in England I did my best to help her enterprise, gave her money freely, paid for dresses, boots, travelling cloaks, children's dresses, and in brief for everything. During the nine months I had known her she in fact ran me dry, and in debt. I spent upon her more than I could have lived on for four years at the rate I lived at just before I met her. But I was now in better circumstances than I had been for years, and the money was my own.

As the time approached, I could neither sleep nor eat, and used to be at J... s Street hours before I knew she could come; would wait any time for her, treating Hannah and the ladies, and doing nothing but talk about Sarah. Sometimes I used to think about following her abroad. When she came to the house, I used to spend my time in crying, and she after telling me not to be foolish, would cry too. Then, "Oh! let me see you naked." "There then." Then came kisses all over her body. "Oh! now for God's sake don't spend in me." Then came a delicious fuck; then crying and moaning recommenced. She left a week at least before she had said she should, and did so to prevent me the pain of parting with her,—I must give her that credit. Hannah told me so.

I had arranged to see her one morning, and was as usual there before my time. Hannah stepped out from the parlour. "Has Sarah come?" She beckoned me into the parlour. "Why they all sailed this morning,—my sister went to see them off,—did you not know?" I staggered to the sofa dizzy, speechless, then senseless. When I came to myself Hannah was standing besides me with brandy and water and a spoon with which she was putting it into my mouth.

"Don't take on so," said she, "don't think any more about Sarah,—she is a fine woman, but there are lots as good,—I know a dozen, and any one would be glad to know a man like you,—have some brandy and water,"—and she took a great gulp herself. "There now," said she bending over me. "would you like to see Mrs.———, she who met you the other night in here with Sarah,—she has taken quite a fancy to you,—don't cry. Sarah will come back, and if she don't you'll get another woman whom you will like as well. There is Mrs.———, a splendid shaped woman who only sees one gentleman here,—she took quite a fancy to you, though she only saw you once." But I was desperate, and rushed out of the house. Where I went to, I don't even recollect, but went home at last very drunk,—an extraordinary occurence for me.

For some days I was prostrate in mind, and almost in body, but at length recovered sufficiently to attend a little to my affairs which had gone altogether to the bad for a month, and had been going bad for many months. I resolutely set myself against going to J... s Street, and would not have women; indeed scarcely knew where to lay my hand on a shilling, so necessity had perhaps as much to do with my virtue as anything else; but I was generally in a weak, low state of health, and really believe, though it seems to me almost incredible now, that it was well nigh three weeks before I touched or saw a cunt after Sarah left.

Then one Sunday I had erections all day long. After dinner lust drove me nearly mad; so I went to my room, took a clean sheet of white paper, and frigged myself over it. My prick only slightly subsided, I frigged again, and then as the paper lay before me covered with sperm-pools I cried, because it was not up my dear Sarah's vagina, laid my head on the table where the paper lay, and sobbed with despair, jealousy, and regrets, for I thought some one would fuck her if I did not, that it would be her hateful husband whom she had helped to keep with my money.

I may say here that on several occasions of my life I have frigged myself over a clean sheet of foolscap paper; it was mostly done for curiosity, to see what my sperm was like, whether it was as thin, or as thick, or as large in quantity as at the last time I previously had masturbated.

I could not after that Sunday keep away from J...s Street, and went there the next day. "I don't expect she'll write to you," said Hannah, "even if she said she would,—what will be the use?—it will only make you miserable." But I felt sure she would, and kept away from women still for some time after that,—I was stumped for money among other reasons. Then I began to spend involuntarily in the night, which to me was more hateful than frigging myself; so one night I went out for a bit of cheap quim. Whether I saw Brighton Bessie or not I can't say, but I think I did, and did later on.

I went first into the streets near a large well-known tavern at a spot where several big thoroughfares meet, and where there is a large traffic, and picked up my cheap women there. But the women, their chemises and petticoats, and their rooms shocked me more than they used, and kept me chaster than I otherwise might have been.

One night I went home with a tall straight woman who would not take my fee. "No," said she, "I've got two nice little rooms of my own." If you get a woman for five shillings you have to pay for the room besides, and ten shillings is only a small sum; so I went with her for ten shillings, and saw her at intervals for a few months.

She was about five feet nine high, was not stout, was as straight as a lath, yet not thin, had very firm but quite small breasts, and a biggish bum. She had Mulatto blood in her veins she told me, and was brown-skinned, had a large mouth and very thick lips, the Negro blood showed there plainly; her hair was dark, and so were her eyes; her cunt was a pouter: it was small, but the lips pouted out more thickly I think than those of any woman I ever yet saw, yet they were not flabby, but protruded largely like two halves of a sausage; the hair was black, short, and intensely crisp and curly; it felt like curled horse-hair. I used to think her a plain woman, one of the plainest, but she was a glorious fuckster; her cunt was tight inside, and yet so elastic as not to hurt or pinch (and I was at that time when just at spunking point as often said before tender-pricked). The hair of her head was coarse yet straight, her large mouth was filled with teeth of a splendid whiteness, and when she smiled she showed the whole set. It was seeing her large white teeth that first attracted me before I could distinguish any other feature of her face; you could see them at night right across a road, they were dazzling, and almost made one forget the great thick-lipped orifice which opened to expose them. I have before told of women who attracted me by their teeth, and particularly of a Creole.

This Mulatto as I called her, amused me with her letcherous postures; she was as lithe as a willow branch, and was willing to please. I was fond of making her kneel on the bed with bum towards me, and her legs nearly close together, and then the backward pout of her cunt was charming to me, so much so that I took to poking her dog-fashion.

One night when I was full of sperm I made her remain in the exact posture until all my spunk had run out of her cunt, and sat holding a candle towards her rump till I was satisfied with the sight; and more than once I kept her in that position, looking at the gruelly lips until I fucked her a second time.

She had such a very remarkable steady walk that she scarcely seemed to move, she glided; her feet were so nicely carried forward, and her body so evenly balanced from her hips. In this respect she resembled a tall dark woman named Fletcher, whom I knew quite recently. There must have been something in the arrangement of their thighs and hips which caused this. Women who are accustomed to carry heavy loads on their heads always walk straight, and never roll from side to side as most people more or less do; but I don't know that either of the women named had carried baskets on their heads,—I knew the walk of that class of women, having been born in the neighbourhood where they worked.

She I imagine had a liking for my doing it naked with her, for she was always suggesting that we should strip; but she could not bear my fucking her dog-fashion. When I stripped and got into her on her belly, she would twist her legs right into mine in quite a snaky fashion, and sometimes lift her legs up till her heels were almost up to my blade-bones. She also like a few others I have poked seemed to have the power of holding my prick in her cunt quite tightly after I had spent,—perhaps because she had not spent herself, for about her pleasures in the copulation I am not sure, though she always impressed me as being a hot-cunted one.

After I had once been to J... s Street again I went more and more frequently. Hannah was always nearly screwed,—champagne or brandy pleased her best.

When she was so, she would at times gradually let out much that she knew,—and this is what she let out one day.

"Bah! her husband indeed!—she is not married,—he's got a wife besides, and Sarah knows it,—he's blackened his wife's eyes more than once when she has been annoying them; but that don't pay, for she is his lawful wife; so he allows her something, and it keeps her quiet, and she won't last long, for she is drunk from daybreak till night. Sarah's a real good one to keep the lazy beggar,—she keeps them all poor thing, ever since he could not get any engagement; there's she, and their children, and her sister, who lives with them, and then there is her old mother who she keeps, and his wife as well,—she has enough to do poor thing." This came out one day after Hannah had dined; I had brought her a bottle of specially fine brandy, and we were sitting in the parlour drinking it together mixed with water.

I had long been getting into Hannah's good graces. I stood wine and brandy, was always respectful to her and the gay ladies I met in her parlour, and never used coarse, rude language to them, nor in speaking of them or of ladies of their class. Hannah told me I was a great favorite with several of them, as indeed I found to be the case. I may say that all my life I never spoke disrespectfully to, or of gay ladies, so long as they behaved themselves; they have been mostly throughout my life, kind and true to me after their fashion, they gave me pleasure, and I treated them as if I was grateful for it.

But I was moreover serviceable to Hannah. Once or twice as told she had brought me some figures to cast up, and when Sarah had left, she brought me others on various little scraps of paper. She asked me never to mention my having done so to her sister, and I did not. I became curious at finding the items were all in five shillings, seven and sixpence, ten and twenty shillings; at last it struck me what it was, and taxing her with it found it was the takings of the baudy house, she told me so with a laugh. She could not write herself.

The takings were put on slips of paper by the servants, and by some process of her own which she could not explain, she got a rough sort of check on the servants to prevent them robbing her. She had to account to the real owner of the house,—and how she did it she alone knows. This is certain (she once admitted it), that from the takings she put a pound a day into her own pocket. Whether she robbed the owner to that extent, or whether it was her admitted share I never knew. She was well dressed, had excellent food, allowed her Guardsman money, her sister's husband money, and others too I rather think. But after she'd taken her three or four hundred pounds a year, there was a splendid income handed over to some one. This house had but eight rooms, and two more closets to let out for fucking; they often took twenty pounds a day, and sometimes much more.

I did this arithmetic pretty regularly, and she became my fast friend. She told me all about Sarah that she knew (what Sarah at a future day told me agreed with it), and much about the habits of other loose ladies which will be partially narrated in due time, and a good deal about baudy house management.

And now more about Sarah's antecedents. A new species of entertainment had sprung into existence a few years before this time, called "Poses plastiques," in which men and women covered with silk fitting tightly to their naked limbs and made quite white, placed themselves on stages in classical groups to the sound of music. Women and men of great physical beauty formed these groups, they were in fact actors of that class. Madame W...t.n known as a splendid model first got them up; her husband was a splendid man, Sarah was her niece, and also had a beautiful form which ran in the family; she was poor, and Madame W...t.n took her to live with them, and at seventeen years of age she appeared as Venus.

At nineteen she had a child by Madame W...t.n's husband, at twenty a second. Madame found out the father, and kicked Sarah out. Mr. W...t.n then kicked Madame out, and went to live with Sarah, rows ensued, other companies of "Poses plastiques" came into competition, the thing got overdone, he could not get his living; he knew a trade, but was I expect too lazy to work at it; so Sarah took to letting herself out as model, and that being poor pay, to letting out her cunt to get their bread; she had just began it when I first met her. They seem during a year or more to have parted with all their goods, before she took to showing her belly-parting for money.

So beautiful a form of course succeeded, and for a time I became the principal milk-cow. Then a proposition was made to form a troupe to go to the Continent; there seemed to be a grand opening, and with Sarah's money (most of it got from me), the apparatus, costumes properties, and troupe were got together.

Off they had gone. She and her husband were the exhibition-managers, speculators, and chief actors.

Hannah made a mouth when I asked what sort of a man Mavis was. She did not think much of him,—why did he not work—he had a trade?—no, because he was no longer able to get on as an actor, he preferred to let Sarah get the living for the whole of them. "Ah! you'll see her back, mark my words,—they won't succeed,—and then what will take place? —you'll see,—is she poor thing to work and do everything, that he may lay a bed, dress as a gentleman, and do nothing but take her out for a walk on a Sunday; she is as proud of his taking her out for a walk on a Sunday as if he kept her a carriage." After much reflexion I came to the conclusion that Sarah had only just turned harlot about the time I had first met her that she did it to keep her man and her family, and he got accustomed to his woman getting his living for him.

I kept on calling at J... s Street, always expecting to hear of Sarah. Hannah was glad to see me, for now I cast up her accounts weekly. I got acquainted with two or three ladies there who came at intervals to meet their friends. They were very nice women, none were ever to be seen in the streets, they had either their own acquaintances whom they met at J... s Street, or Hannah had introduced them to gentlemen there. They were not a bit like whores in dress, appearance or manner, and my acquaintance with them opened my mind to the fact, that there is a large amount of occult fucking going on with needy, middle-class women, whose mode of living and dressing, is a mystery to their friends, and who mingle with their own class of society without its being suspected; that their cunts are ever wetted by sperm which lawfully may not be put there.

I began to stand wine when I met them, and was introduced as a friend of Miss Mavis who had gone abroad. I was I found well known by name and a character for kindness, and I expect also for being a fool. All the women were shy at first, Hannah's sister (the servant) I overheard telling Hannah that the ladies did not like my being in the parlour. Hannah at times would ask me to leave, as a lady wanted to come into the parlour and wait there, and so on. But gradually Hannah would say, "Who is it?—oh! she knows him,"—or "Oh! she won't mind,—let her come in." So by degrees I became intimate with these privately gay ladies, and several of them on more than one occasion joined their sweet bodies to mine in the game of under and over.

I had never had a woman in the house since Sarah had gone; firstly because I did not then pay more for the girls than I did for the room alone at J... s Street, and because, I feared if Sarah came back Hannah would tell her,—as if it would have mattered to Sarah in any way excepting that another woman would get the money she might have had. Still I had that stupid idea about the matter, and although I had longed for one or two of the other ladies, and although they had looked languishingly at me. I never had then proposed a private interview upstairs.

One day Hannah said she had heard from Sarah who had asked after me. "They are (Sarah and the troupe) getting on well," said Hannah, "if she says so I suppose they are,—but we shall see." Suddenly, "Have you had another woman since she left?" The question startled me. "No." "Oh! I don't believe it,—if you haven't you're a nasty man." Then I confessed, and told her what I had done. "Why don't you have Mrs. Fisher?" said she. "I'm poor, and can't,—I'm not going to do what I did with Sarah." "Lord she won't mind,—she'd like you I know,—but don't say I said so,—she's got a lovely leg,—she's a fine woman,—nearly as fine made as Sarah Mavis, and she is taller,—she never gets it done at home." Hannah was unusually muddled with liquor that day, and let out; her sister was not there to check her with, "Now then Hannah you'd better shut up,"—and Hannah described Mrs. Fisher's hidden charms till my cock stood.

I would pass hours sketching from recollection Sarah Mavis' limbs and form, her bum and cunt being the most favorite subjects; then so randy that I did not know what to do with myself, I would rush out into the streets to prevent my frigging myself,—and erotic night-dreams were frequent.

"Why don't you see Mrs. X.. i," said Hannah to me, "she likes you, and would come up any day if I wrote to her (I had supped two or three times with that lady),—I would not fret about Sarah, although she is a fine woman,—you let her see you have another woman, and she will come round if she comes back." But I did not for a time.

One afternoon however being in the parlour, Mrs. X.. i was there, a splendid woman about twenty-six years old. Also there was a young woman who had two children by a man with whom she was about to go abroad, and she was a lovely woman. The two ladies had just had a two o'clock dinner with Hannah, I had just come from my Club after luncheon, and sent for champagne. All our talk got frisky,—all knew Sarah, my love. If I could get any one to talk with me about her, I was delighted, and began at it. Said the Mistress, "Well she is a splendid-formed woman certainly,—splendid, but there are lots of others,—I've got a good leg to my knee, so has Mrs. X.. i, and Mrs.———," (meaning the other whose name I forget).

"Show us your leg," said one. "There," said Hannah pulling up her clothes, "now show yours." They all showed their limbs, one after another. "You might fancy you had Sarah's legs round your thighs, if you had Mrs. X...i's there," said Hannah. I was nigh bursting for a fuck. Mrs. X...i pulled her clothes up higher, and stood up to show the leg better; the other ladies did the same. I felt my pleasure coming, and objecting to wet my shirt, began to unbutton. "Oh I can't bear it," I cried, "oh! my God I'm coming,"—and the instant my prick was free from my trowsers I spent copiously, the three women their petticoats still up nearly to their cunts, looking and laughing. I had not frigged, it was fullness, and the voluptuous delight at seeing the limbs of the three fine women which fetched me. "There is lots of stuff in him," said one. Ashamed of myself I begged their pardons, and sent for more wine. "He had better have given one of you ladies that good spunk," said the Mistress. I overcame my bash fulness, they laughed about what Sarah Mavis had missed, one professed to feel annoyed at my behaviour. "Oh! you are damned modest," said Hannah.