I washed, and wanting soap (she had none), she went to the door, and called out for some. The woman brought it. Then there was no towel, and again standing naked at the half-opened door, she called out to the landlady to lend her one “I shant”, said a voice, “you have now got two of mine.” “Oh ! arseholes”, bawled out Kate slamming the door, “the bugger won't let me have one, — here dry your prick with my chemise, it's quite clean.”
Kate stood naked looking at me as I rubbed myself dry with her chemise, bending slightly forward, holding her fingers under her cunt. “What a lot you've spent”, said she putting down the basin with my water in it, and beginning to wash. “That's not clean”, I re-marked. “Oh ! it's all the same spunk”, she replied, and afterwards, “You may look at my cunt if you like”, and she threw herself on the side of the bed, thighs wide open. She was faultless. I pulled a chair to the side of the bed, and contemplated her cunt at my leisure. The dirty white blind down in the window only just mellowed the light, it was as light as day, I could have hunted crabs, had there been any in her motte-thatch.
She asked me to give her gin. Some was sent for, then we sat drinking, she taking it neat, I mixed with water. “Let's fuck”, said she again, and we fucked. More gin, more fucking, she was quicker to want fucking than I was. It was getting dusk, then she said, “You're going, ain't you? I want to make a few shillings to-night, — my rent's due to-morrow.” I gave her another five shillings, made her piss in the basin, and we fucked again. I was fucked out, and at last she spent twice to my once, our bodies were sticking to-gether with sweat as we fucked. Then for a few minutes we went to sleep. “You are a gent”, said she, “I likes you,-I hopes you'll come agin, and see me, — I likes a real gent.”
As I went out I saw a man standing on the other side of the road looking like a bricklayer. Turning back after I had gone a hundred feet or so, I saw him cross the road, and go into the house. I went back, the street-door was as it always was, open. Stepping inside I heard a male voice through Kate's door, a woman came out from the back. “Who do you want?” said she. “Kate.” “Oh! she has got a friend with her,-shall I knock?” “No”, I replied, and went my way. I didn't like the idea of her having a working-man after me, or before me. I was not then a philosopher, “But what does it matter?” said I, “a man's a man.”
I saw Kate next day, and told her she had had a man after me. “Yes directly,-a chap I knows had been awaitin an hour, and he come in in a hurry. 'I'm done', says I, but he would,-he's a rough un, and he'd fucked me before you was at the end of the street.” “Why you had not washed your cunt.” “No”, she laughed, “the bugger went right into your spendings, —he never knowed, and I had a good un of a cove after him,-you brought me luck. I've got two new chemises, and four towels, — let's fuck,-let's fuck”, said she laying hold of me, and unbuttoning my trowsers. My balls hung over her bum in no time.
I visited her at intervals for about a year. She had the whitest flesh I ever saw, and was very beautiful in face; the hair grew exceedingly low on her forehead, yet it did not disfigure her, from her neck to her calves her form was perfectly voluptuous, but she had big feet, and her hands were large. I could not bear to see her feet in great boots, and when looking at her lovely form used to keep my eyes from them. Her cunt was perfectly beautiful and small; black, white, and carmine were never more exquisitely blended. She was revoltingly coarse in her talk, and even when sober her voice was rough. That I did not like, but her language disgusted me. To anything she did not like she said “arseholes”, said it more frequently than any other word until I stopped her. “Give me some gin”, she would say. “No you have had enough.” “Oh ! arseholes.” Every body also was a bloody bugger, or a bloody shit. She was lewd on me for a time, and made me fuck her more than I wanted, but as I checked her foul language she became indifferent to me. “Oh ! I'm obliged to hold my tongue I suppose”, then she would sulk, and then, “Well let's have another fuck”, and all would be right till I stopped her foul tongue again.
Half her time she was drunk. I would go there, not see her at the door, then call out to the woman, “Is Kate in?” “Yes she's drunk, I ain't seen her since the morning.” Sometimes her door was locked, nothing then roused her, and away I went. At other times she was in the bed, or on it, and all but insensible. Several times I lucked her, put five shillings in her pocket, and left without her knowing I had had her until after-wards.
I had now fits of timidity, and used French letters at times, even when she was quite sure she was all right. One day when she was very drunk, I had her with a letter on, and as my cock dwindled out I eased the letter off it, and with my finger pushed it well up her cunt, and went away without paying her. I should like to have known what she thought when she found the French letter up her. I never alluded to it, and she never did. Why I behaved so I don't know, it is a wonder to myself. That night I had entered her room, and left unobserved by any one.
When she was a little drunk only, she got spoony, and I could not get away from her, she would lay hold of my prick, and keep to it. “I can't do it again Kate.” “Get on me, and I'll make you”; and she usually did. Then as liquor overtook her she ceased to wash her cunt after fucking, would turn on her side, and go to sleep. I left her often snoring with her cunt full, the money on the table.
It always was a wonder that she kept such a beautiful skin and look, but she did; and always was cool, fresh, and healthy-looking, even if she had been drunk for twenty-four hours previoulsy. Her breath and body were as sweet as milk, yet she never had a bath as far as I know, but performed all her ablutions in a little basin, throwing the water into the street when she had done with it. I have seen her wash from head to foot that way in a quart of water, and a wet rag, and when done she looked like ivory.
She was called Irish Kate, why? — I never knew, nor did she. She was not Irish.
I had words with her one day, having lost a diamond pin. She had been pulling me about that night, but the same night I had been into a house with two women, and had felt their quims. I offered more than the value of the pin, but never got it back. After that I did not go near her again for a long time, but at length so longed for her that I did. She cried with joy, and kept me fucking till my back was well nigh broken.
Then I was for some time out of England. On my return, burning with desire, I went one night to her house. She had died of cholera, which was then raging.
Chapter XVIII
Costermongers children. • A small girl, mother, and mangie. • A French letter fetched. • Young Gallows' exploits. • The customers' linen. • A hard-fleshed bum. • Invitation to anus. • A strange letch. • One big with child. • Fucked for a sovereign and pleasure. • A creole. • My misery. • Reflections.
Close by Kate's was a street with a carriage way, at one end narrowing to a footway only. On one side a row of small houses, on the other a very high blank wall. Costermongers' barrows and carts stood in the carriage way at night; clothes-lines with ragged garments hung across the street in the day. One dark night prowling about, cunt-feeling young girls and baudying generally, I went up this street. I had been up it before, and loved to hear the boys and girls chivying each other among the carts, hinting baudiness as they caught the girls, and kissed them, the girls squealing when liberties were taken with them. Occasionally standing in the shadow of the carts, I listened whilst a man would stealthily go up against the blank wall, a woman follow him. I would stand feeling my prick till I saw them come away (in two or three minutes usually), and rush into Mary Davis' or Kate's to get a relief for my excited ballocks. There was but a feeblish light in the street, and in one part of it none.