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 par-lour, 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 prop-ping 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.”