After seemingly a minute's reflexion, again she said, “Perhaps I'd better go.” — “Nonsense, what did you come up here for?” — saying that I locked the door, closed on Polly, pushed her against the bed, and assaulted her privates. She'd so egged me on to baudy chaff and smutty suggestions, that I'd felt sure of having her, but as my hand touched her thighs she resisted, pushed down her clothes, pushed me away stoutly, laughing as if half pleased tho refusing, and squalling loudly. — “You shan't — don't now — a joke's a joke — I won't — I'm married.” — “You're not — where's your ring?” — “Pawned.” — “I will fuck you. “You shan't” and she scuffled as much as virtuous servants have done whom I've assailed similarly. I was so annoyed at my hindrance, felt so spiteful, that leaving off I angrily said, “You're not married, your linen's dirty, that's why you won't let me.” I didn't mean it, but savagely wanted to offend her, to say something to annoy, and that came impromptu. I said much of the same sort, but all in the same strain.
“Dirty? Me dirty? Cleaner than you, I'll swear. Dirty! I'd wash my shift to rags rather than be dirty. — You have cheek. — Show me your shirt — look.” — Saying that she turned up her petticoats to her garters, and I saw the stockings and all she had on was as white as could be, tho her ankle jackboots were muddy. — “Your cunt's dirty then.” — “You lie, it ain't.” “Let's put this up it,” — pulling out my prick. — “Shan't.” — But she looked at my cunt prodder which was in splendid force. She was lewed before, now leweder still and she laughed. I closed on her again, got my fingers on the soft slit with but trifling hindrance, and frigged away at it. — “Now don't — oh don't.” Voluptuous sensations were conquering for me. — What woman can refuse a prick when the man's fingers have been in full possession of her cunt a minute? “Feel my prick.” — She slid her hand down to it after twice saying, “Shan't” and in another minute it was up her cunt, as she lay at the bedside on to which I pushed and lifted her. Quiet, absorbed in carnal pleasure, the delicious crisis came on, and dissolved us, spending into immobility and silence.
Quietly she lay as holding up her thighs, nestling my pego into her, we looked into each other's eyes in silence, enjoying the carnal junction. Fucking is in its essential always the same, the idealities are everything, therein lays the charm of variety. I felt singular de-light in fucking this common woman whom I'd only seen half an hour. — It takes longer to tell than to act.
— Who might be married or single, or of any occupation, and whose cunt I'd not even seen. Relinquishing one thigh I pushed her petticoats up, and looking down saw a dark fully haired motte, the hair mingling with mine, and put a finger on to the clitoris — “Isn't fucking lovely?” — “Isn't it?” replied she.
Catching hold of her thigh again, I squeezed my belly well against hers, feeling my pego to be dwindling. “Has your friend been fucked?” “Dunno, but she has got a lover.” — “Where's your husband?” — “God knows, on the tramp I suppose.” — “You are married.”
— She nodded. “Who fucks you now?” — “No one.”
— “What a story.” — She laughed, and it squeezed my cock out of her. Then we washed in the same basin, there was no towel, so shirt and chemise did duty.
Afterwards — “Show me your cunt.” — “All right, I'm clean, — look,” — pulling her clothes up to her motte, she let me see, saying how clean her linen was. I saw a cunt fat lipped, and full fledged. “No, I ain't had a child,” said she, noticing my investigatings. — Another letch came on. “I'd give you ten shillings to see your friend's cunt, and she ten to show it.” — She seemed surprized. — “Will you? Don't think she will.” — “Try to get her upstairs.” — “I will, but she's a stupid, don't say you've done it to me.” — Saying that, she put on her bonnet and went downstairs.
The two had as said “had a drop” before I'd met them. They'd had gin since, Sarah had had a tumbler more than half full to drink whilst down stairs. Opening the door I heard much laughing, and Sarah appeared, pushed up stairs by Polly into the room. No sooner there than I told her I wanted to see her little quim and would give her ten shillings — I'd got their names pat. “Polly says then she'll show me hers.”
Tho slightly screwed she refused and there was much talk. — “We ain't whores,” said she. — Polly pulled her petticoats up to her garters, and then she pulled out my prick, again fairly stiff. — Both laughed at it. — Polly said, “It's getting late — will yer or won't yer ? — I'll show him mine if you'll show him yours.” — “Sup-pose Jack hears on it.” — “Jack be blowed, how can he know unless you tells him.” — I put on the table the two half sovereigns and they eyed them. — “Will you now? If not we'll go.” — “It's agoin' too far,” said Sarah — I put the money in my pocket. — “You show him first.” — “There, then,” said Polly, putting her bum on the bed and exposing her charms. — The other chuckled. — “He, He, He, look at you.” — “You have seen it before, come on, show it him.” — She went to Sarah and pushed her up chuckling. “He, He, He” but she was yielding, and next minute was laying on the bed, petticoats up to her navel, legs hanging down, her crack just visible, whilst Polly in a similar position but with thighs well apart, lay laughing by her side.
I investigated the cunts of both, but the young one didn't like that. — “You've been fucked,” said I. — “I ain't.” — “She has,” said Polly. — “I ain't been.” — “I'll fuck you then.” — “No, you shan't.” — She roused herself and half got off the bed, I promised not to at-tempt it and got her to lay down again with cunt showing. “I'll fuck you then.” — “All right,” said Polly. Next second my balls were banging against her buttocks. — “Oh! If Jack ever heard,” giggled the slim one. — “Jack be buggered,” said Polly, heaving her rump responsively to my thrusts. Silent were all three now as I fucked, feeling Sarah's thin thighs and quim. — “Aha — fuck — cunt,” I cried. — “Ahrr — Ahrr,” sobbed Polly. — “Oho, you hurt,” cried out the slim one. In the paroxysms of pleasure I'd hurt her cunt with my fingers.
“We'd better get home or there'll be a jolly kick up,” said the slim one whilst still my prick was in the other's quim. — I was in a hurry also, uncunted, and in five minutes was out of the house, after giving the two half sovereigns. — They were not sisters they said, which was all I could learn, excepting that they'd carried something home between them tied up with the rope, and had had a drop with the money they'd got. I think they were laundresses.
I enjoyed this chance amour immensely, it was so different from the business-like fucking with a har-lot, price agreed beforehand. But how strange! As we met as strangers in the street, who could have imagined that they'd show me their cunts, and that one would be fucked twice within an hour. These impromptu amours are delicious.
A long time had passed since we saw the man birched, and H. and I wished to see another. The abbess said she'd try to arrange it, but some of her men strongly objected to be made a show of, tho one or two liked it. She didn't know when the exposants would come, or when we should be there, all was a mere chance, yet it was only on our being all there at the same time that it could come off. Three or four months ran away before it did. There one day, said the abbess, “If you'd like to see a birching to day, there will be a gentleman who likes to be looked at, but when I tell you, you must hold up your chemise and shew him your twatts, he'll see it, tho you may think he won't, don't speak a word and leave directly he spends.”
H. wouldn't mask herself and went down with a lovely laced chemise only on. — I with a shirt on only but masked. Laying along a sofa, was a fair haired, bearded man whom I judged between thirty five and forty, with his face hidden by both hands. He was laying about three quarters on his belly, so that we could see his prick — which was not stiff — and balls. His shirt was tucked up to above his waist, his trowsers pulled down to his knees, and the whole of his backside and thighs were bare. We stood by his side and the abbess began. — Swish. She talked some nonsense to him, about her being the governess and correcting him, to which he made no reply. The swishing went on slowly at about a stroke a minute, gradually his prick elongated and the gland extruded itself completely, as his backside grew redder and redder. Then she struck more quickly. — “Ohoo,” — he murmuringly whispered — “Ho —ho — I can't.” — Swish. — Swish. — His backside began to oscillate, his prick rubbed between his belly and the soft white sheet which covered the sofa. Then as arranged, H., who stood nearer his head than I did lifted her chemise up to her navel, showing her lovely thighs and chestnut covered motte, she liked shewing it. I saw his fingers open so that he could look thro them at her, yet I couldn't see a bit of his face, he murmured something as if in pleasure, jogged his belly as if fucking, and his prick which I could see well now, shot out a lot of sperm on to the sheet. Then he ceased and laid quiet, she dropped her chemise covering her charms, and we both left. I paid for the sight, and dare say that the victim paid for the sight of H.'s nudity.