My Secret Life (90 page)

Harry now was silent, and she at last seemed fatigued, yet sitting by his side began again restlessly twiddling his cock. There were evident signs of its swelling — I felt it, but my lust was satisfied and I cared no more about feeling it. We chatted and drank awhile, and then she laid herself along the bed as if going to repose. Not a bit of it — her lust was not sated yet. She put a hand on to his tool and said, “Fuck me, dear.” He said he could not. “Try — I’ll make you.” H.’s eyes when she wants fucking have a voluptuous expression beyond description. — It appeals to my senses irresistibly — It is lewedness itself, and yet without coarseness, and even has softness and innocence so mixed with it, that it gives me the idea of a virgin who is randy and seeking the help of man, without in her innocence quite knowing what she wants, what he will do, and that there is neither shame nor harm in trying to get the article of which she does not know the use. Her voice also is low, soft and melodious — I was sitting when I saw that she was now in furious rut. — I’ve seen her so before — and she said to the lad “Get on me — lay on me dear.” — “I can’t do it.” — “You shall,” said she impetuously. “Lay on my thigh.” The slim youth turned at once his belly on to hers. He had now no modesty left — we had knocked that out of him quite.

Wildly almost, she pulled his head to hers and kissed him, her eyes closed, her bum jogged, down went one hand between their bellies, a slight movement of
his
buttocks, a hitch of
her
bum, a twist, a jerk, then up go her knees and legs, her backside slips lower down, and by a slight twist she had got his prick into her. Then she gave two sharp heaves, clutched his backside and was quiet — her eyes were closed — I would give much to know what lewed thoughts were passing through her baudy brain just then, a flood of lascivious images I’m sure, whilst her cunt was quietly, gently clipping his doodle. She opened her eyes when I said, — “Fuck her well.” — “Fuck dear,” said she to him and began gently her share of the exercise. He began also shagging, but quietly. “Is your prick stiff?” said I — “Yhes.” — A strong smell of sperm, prick, cunt, and sweat, the aroma of randy human flesh now pervaded the hot room — the smell of rutting male and female, which stimulated me in an extraordinary way. I got lewed, my prick swelled, and for a moment I wanted to pull him off and fuck her myself, but restrained myself and put my hand under his balls to please my lust that way.

If he was a minute upon her he was forty. — Never have I had such a sight, never assisted at such a long fucking scene. She was beautiful in enjoying herself like a Messalina all the time — I squeezed his balls and gently encouraged him with lewed words, she with loving words till she went off into delirious obscenity. With her fine, strong, lovely shaped legs, thighs, and haunches she clipped him, he couldn’t if he would have moved off of her. Every few minutes she kissed him rapturously crying, — “Put out your tongue, dear, kiss — Kiss. — Ahaa — fuck — fuck harder — put your spunk in my cunt.” — Then came prolonged loud cries. — “Ahrrr — harre” — and she violently moved her buttocks, her thighs quivered — and after screeching. — “Aharrr” — beginning loud and ending softly, she was quiet and had spent. But a minute after she was oscillating her bum as violently as ever, and crying, “Spend Harry, spend — kiss — kiss — put out your tongue — kiss — you’ve not spent — spend dear, kiss” — and her kisses resounded.

I moved nearer to her, and standing, slid my hand under her raised thighs and gently intruded my middle finger up her bum hole. — Her eyes opened and stared at me baudily. “Further up,” sobbed she in a whisper, her bum still moving. Then she outstretched her hand, and grasped my prick, and I bending to her, we kissed wet kisses. His head then was laying over her left shoulder hidden, he was ramming like a steam engine, and neither knew where my finger was, nor thought of aught but her cunt, I guess.

Again he put his mouth to hers, their tongues met, and she still holding my pego, on went the fuck. The ramming indeed had never stopped for an instant. My finger was now well up her bum, his balls knocking against my hand, and each minute her baudy delirium came on. — “Now — spend Harry — spend. — Oh God — fuck — fuck — bugger. — Aharrr - aharrr.”
—
Again a screech, again quietness, and as languidly he thrust again she stimulated him. — “Fuck dear, that’s it — your prick’s stiff — isn’t it?” — “Yhes” — “Your spunk’s coming.” — “Y — hess.” — “Ahaa — spunk — fuck. — Ahharr” — she screeched. The room rang with her deliriously voluptuous cries, and again all was quiet. So now was
he
for he’d spent, and out came my fingers as her sphincter strongly clipped it and
she
spent.

I thought all was over but it was not, her rutting was unabated. “Keep it in dear — you’ll spend again” — “I can’t” — “Yes, lie still.” — Again her thighs clipped his, and her hands clutched his backside. I felt under his balls the genial mucilaginous moisture of their passions oozing. His prick was small and I slid my finger up her cunt besides it. — He never noticed it. “Don’t you beast,” — said she. — “Give me some champagne.” I withdrew my moistened finger, gave her a glass, filled my mouth with some and emptied that into hers. She took it kissing me. She was mad for the male tho she murmured after her habit. — “Ain’t we beasts?” — “No love, it’s delicious, no beast could do what we do.” — He lay now with eyes closed, almost asleep, insensible, half only upon her, his face half buried in the pillow. — She raised her head partially, not disturbing his body, I held up her head, and a full glass of champagne went down her throat. — Then she fell back again and put her hand between their bellies. “Is his prick out?” said I.

No reply made she — I put my hand under his buttocks, touched his prick which was still swollen, found she was introducing it to her quim and it touched my hand in doing it. — I saw that heave, jog and wriggle of her backside, her legs cross his, her hands clamp onto his buttocks, the jog, jog gently of her rump, then knew that again his pendant doodle was well in her lubricious cunt, and that she’d keep it there. — “How wet your cunt is, H*l*n,” said I. — “Beast” she softly murmured and began fucking quicker, tho
he
lay quite still. — Her eyes were again closed, her face scarlet. “Feel his balls,” said she softly. — “Do you like my doing it?” — “Yes, it will make him stiff — do
that
again.” — Her eyes opened on me with a fierce baudiness in them as she said that. — The exquisite voluptuous look, the desire of a virgin was no more there — delirious rutting, obscene wants in their plenitude was in them, the fiercest lust. — Up went my finger in her bum, — “Aha. — Aha — God” — sobbed she in quick staccato ejaculations. — “Fuck me dear.”

He roused himself at that, grasped her buttocks, thrust for a little time then relaxed his hold and lay lifeless on her. “I can’t do it, I’m sure.” — “You can, lay still a little.” — Still he laid like a log, but not she. — An almost imperceptible movement of her rump and thighs went on, ever and anon her eyes opened on me with a lustful glare, then closed again, and not a word she spoke whilst still her thighs and buttocks heaved. — I knew her cunt was clipping, was nutcracking his tool,
—
often times I’ve felt that delicious constriction of her cunt, as in baudy reverie I’ve laid upon her, half faint with the voluptuous delight of her embrace. — Some minutes ran away like this, whilst I was looking at their nakedness, feeling
his
balls withdrawing my finger from
her,
then gently, soothingly replacing it up her bum, frigging my own prick every now and then — none of us spoke.

Then more quickly came her heaves, he recommenced his thrust. “Fuck dear, — there — it’s stiff. — Ahaa — yes — you’ll spend soon.” — “Yes” murmured he. — “Yes, — shove hard — give me your spunk.” All was so softly murmured and with voices so fatigued, that I could scarcely hear them. Again I took my finger from her bumhole (for the position fatigued my hand), on they went slowly, again he stopped, again went on, each minute quicker, and soon furiously rammed hard whilst she heaved her backside up and down, thumping the bed which creaked and rocked with their boundings, and the champagne glasses on the tray jingled. Up into her bum hole went my finger. “Aharr,” she shivered out. — “Bugger — fuck — fuck Harry — quicker — aharr — my God — I shall die — y’r spunk’s — com — com — aharr — God — I shall go mad.” — “Ohooo” groaned he. Her sphincter tightened and pinched my finger out, another bound up and down, one more scream, then both were squirming, another scream from her, a hard short groan from him, and then she threw her arms back above her head, lay still with eyes closed, mouth wide open, face blood red, and covered with perspiration, her bosom heaving violently.

He rolled half off of her, his prick lay against her thigh dribbling out thin sperm, his face covered with perspiration and again half buried in the pillow and laying nearly a lifeless mass at once he slept. Her thighs were wide apart, no sperm showing: his spend must have been small. Both were fucked out, exhausted with amorous strain.

My strength had been gradually returning, and prick stood like a horn as I felt again his prick, and thrust my fingers up her lubricious cunt. No heed took either of my playing with their genitals. — I forgot the pains in my temples — cared not whether I died or not, so long as I could again penetrate that lovely body, could fuck and spend in that exquisite cunt. Pouring out more champagne I roused her and she drank it at a draught. “Am I not a beast?” said she falling back again. — “No love, and I’ll fuck you.” — “No, no. You cannot, I’m done and you’d better not.” — “I will.” Pushing the lad’s leg off hers — he fast asleep — and tearing off my shirt, I threw myself upon her naked form and rushed my prick up her. Her cunt seemed large and wet but in a second it tightened on my pego. — Then in short phrases, with baudy ejaculations, both screaming obscenities, we fucked. — “Is my prick larger than his?” — “Ah, yes” — “longer?” — “yes — aha, my God leave off, you’ll kill me — I shall go mad.”
—
“Ah, darling
—
cunt
—
fuck.”
—
“Aha — prick — fuck me you bugger — spunk in me arsehole fuck — bugger — fuck — fuck.” — With screams of mutual pleasure we spent together, then lay embracing, both dozing, prick and cunt joined in the spermy bath.

“Get up love, I want to piddle,” said she. I rolled off of her belly. — She rose staggering but smiling, kissed me and looked half ashamed. Her hair was loose, her face blood red and sweaty, her eyes humid with pleasure, and puffy and blue the skin under her eyes. She sat on the pot by the bedside looking at me and I at her, and still with voluptuous thoughts she put up her hand and felt my prick. — “You’ve fucked me well.” — “My God! aren’t we three beasts — I’m done for.”
—
“So am I.”

I’d fucked her thrice, he thrice. — She spent to each of our sexual spasms and many more times. During their last long belly to belly fucking
she
kept him up to it for
her
whole and sole pleasure, for she was oblivious of
me.
— She must have spent thrice to his once, for her lovely expression of face, her musical cries, her baudy ejaculations during the orgasm — I know them full well by long experience — were not shammed. That would have been needless and impossible. — The tightening of her bum hold on my finger told the same tale, for the sphincter tightens in both man and woman when they spend. — She’d also frigged herself, been gamahuched by both of us, and spent under all. For two hours and a half, out of the four and a half I was with her that night, either finger, tongue, or prick had been at her cunt and for one hour and a half a prick
up
it.

Impossible as it seems even to me as I write it — absurd, almost incredible — she must have spent or experienced some venereal orgasm — something which gave her sexual pleasure, which elicited her cries, sighs, and flesh quiverings, with other evidences of sexual delight, from twelve to twenty times. She may not have spent always, her vaginal juices may have refused to issue, their sources may have been exhausted after a time, yet pleasure she had I am sure. There was no need to sham, why should she, for she gained no more. The amusement was planned by us — so far as such a programme can be, jointly for our joint erotic delight. — Harry was but a cypher tho an active one, a pawn to be moved for our mutual delight, and nothing more — tho of course much to his delight — lucky youth.

I thought of the orgy perpetually until I saw her again three days after. I couldn’t get to her before. — She looked smiling and fresh as ever, not a trace of fatigue was on her face, but she admitted she was quite worn out that night, and had spent as nearly as she could tell, twelve or fifteen times, had laid a bed all next day, drank strong beef tea, and that such another night would almost kill her. — Never had she spent so much, never had had such a night before and should recollect it to the last day of her life. She hadn’t seen Harry since and didn’t want. — “We mustn’t be long, Philip is coming to town tonight and will stop a fortnight, he’ll be here in two hours, so get away soon.” Her cunt had got its cherry red on it again, its delicate scent filled my nostrils and excited my brain, I gamahuched it, fucked her twice and left. — As I drove off I saw a cab with portmanteaus on the top going in the direction of her house. — Instinct again helped me, and stopping my cab, telling the driver to follow me, I walked slowly back, and when in sight saw the cab stop at what I suppose was her door. — It was, I found afterwards, her protector, and I’d been nearly caught there.

[Lascivious orgies I’ve had of various sorts — maddening, exciting, all - but for a refined voluptuous evening none ever came up to this. — To the last day of my acquaintance with her I shall recollect it. — We often talked about it together for some years after.

[I altered but very slightly the wording in places of this narrative, omissions were not needed. Would that I could illustrate it by pencil.]

Fucking on chairs.
—
Condoms tried.
—
Blowpipe, condom, and cunt.
—
My ill health.
—
H. ’s sexual strength. — A sea voyage.
—
A young plain-faced widow.
—
Masturbation of a circumcized.
—
A harlot’s naked street antics.
—
Fucking against bamboo. — A comedy of donkies.
—
Lewed effect on the widow.
—
An aperient applied to her pouters.