When in that randy state, to be near almost any woman is pleasurable. With all their faults, and spite of the troubles they bring to men, they are the joy of a true man's life. I put back into my trowsers my prick which I had taken out to look at during my voluptuous meditations, approached the room, pushed the already half opened door, and saw a strapping wench on her knees brushing the carpet. Her large arms were naked to above the elbows, her big bum stuck out towards me, and from beneath her ample petticoats one leg was visible half way up to her knee, and was cased in a nice white stocking. My cock throbbed, desire to fuck her filled me, and I made a slight noise. “You've come back very quick, yer ain't been there,” and turning her head. — “Oh! I beg your pardon Sir, I thought you was him, how did you get in?” She seemed astonished.
She got up saying that, and a strongly built, bold, handsome faced wench of about twenty she was. I told her how I had got in. — “Mother allus does the cleaning but she's ill, so I've come,” said she gratuitously, for I'd not asked her — and as if ashamed of being caught at the work. — “You're a good daughter and a handsome one,” said I smiling. — “The rector will give you a kiss for doing it.” I was glad to say anything. — “Not he,” said she boldly and laughing, for my remark had put her at her ease. Then we stood and looked at each other. — “You're very handsome, are you married?” — She shook her head. — “Show me the monument of * * * *” — naming a country magnate — “and I'll give you a shilling.” — “Thankee Sir.” She moved off, I following her with prick like a ramrod. — She pointed out the monument to me, but I was thinking only of her cunt all the while.
It was against the wall at the end of a long, large, old fashioned pew with high enclosures, which we both entered. I looked at it for a minute reflecting what next to do, she standing by me. Then I gave her a shilling and snatched a kiss. — “Oh don't, he may come in.” — “I've locked the door.” — Another kiss and I pulled her down not unwilling on the seat besides me. — “I'll give you half a crown to feel the garter on that jolly leg,” saying which I made a snatch at her clothes, and got my hand well up on to her thigh just above the gar-ter. She struggled, gave one or two loud squeals. — “Oh don't — now you shan't — oh — if any one comes — oh now don't. Ohoo, leave me alone Sir.” She began to laugh midst her struggles. — “No one can come in, the door's locked.” — “Yes, Sir, the Rector can come through the churchyard, and the robing room door's open. — “Oh! Don't now.” My passion was a little checked by that and I desisted. “Here's the half crown as I've felt it, give me another kiss.” — She took the half crown and submitted to the embrace, I held her close to me and jogged my belly up against hers. — “I'll give you a sovereign to let me do that.” — “Oh — go away — let me go,” — pushing me. I let her go fearing the Rector might surprize us. “Let me see the robing room.” “It's there,” said she going ahead and pointing. — “Now — don't, Sir.” — I tried to pull her clothes up from behind, succeeded as high as her garters, and saw the handsome calves in white stockings, which made my cock more restive than ever. — “Now, I won't show you Sir if yer does that again,” and she twirled round, I held on to her petticoats which tightened round her legs as she sat down heavily on a free seat by the pew door. Then she laughed as if she could not help it. Again I gave a kiss and a promise, and off we went to the room which was near the altar. I felt sure she liked my smutty games, and at the door stopped. — “My dear tell me something?” — “What Sir?” — “Is there much hair on it?” — “Oh! Go along,” said she, actually coloring up — but she laughed.
In the room I saw a door leading out by a flight of steps into the churchyard, and a path leading I sup-posed to the rectory. The Rector usually entered the church that way she said. I locked the door, she smiled as if she guessed my game. — “Give me another kiss, you are so beautiful.” Indeed I thought so, for I was under the fascination of cunt. — “No.” But I took it. - “Let us?” — “Let us what?” said she looking full in my eyes. — Instinct — never failing me, told that she was in concupiscent state. — “Let's do it” — I didn't dare to say point blank the magic words. — “Do what?” with a voluptuous twinkle in her eyes, and anxious to hear the baudy words of invitation. How her cunt was tingling, for women as men like smutty talk and baudy words — what sane human creature is there but feels pleasure in hearing the exciting triad. — Prick, cunt, fuck, that duality in unity by which in the delirium of physical and mental pleasure, the race is perpetuated. “Do what?” — “You know, and you won't tell your sweetheart.” — “I don't know and I haven't got one.” She turned away smiling, took up a broom, and somehow I was afraid for the moment to press matters further, tho sure she was ready. How ex-plain these eccentricities of mine? — I never could.
“Nonsense,” said I, laying hold of her arm and praising its plumpness. — “I'm mad for you.” — She let me feel and rub it gently up and down. — “I dunno how he came to let you in,” said she standing quite still and staring. — I saw she was waiting for my advances and tried to get my hand up her clothes. — She resisted, struggled, squealed, but my fingers got well between her thighs, and then she escaped. — I pursued her round the room, caught and kissed her, jogged my belly against hers. — “Let us.” — “What?” — “Fuck — look,” said I pulling out my cunt plugger, never in handsomer or more inviting condition to a woman. — She looked hard at it, and chuckled. — “Oh for shame,” said she still eyeing it — I don't recollect clearly what next passed through my mind, but felt sure she was lewed and had already been fucked, tho now was fear- ful. Again I caught her, pushed her bum against the table, got my fingers on to her cunt. — “Oh — no — pray don't — not here. — I'll meet you tonight.” — cried she excitedly.
“Don't be foolish — we are alone — no one can get in — here are two sovereigns for you,” and I put them on the table — my prick still standing out. “I don't want your money.” — Many have said that to me, tho they mostly took it when they'd been tailed. — “Not here. — No — no — I will tonight — no — oho” — My hand was up her petticoats, she stooped pushing them down but I persisted, gave her a strong push, and she fell on the floor, I with her, for a minute we struggled and I pulled up her clothes. “Oh! If they come back.” — Then in a second my fingers were well within the lips of her moist warm slit, I caught at it as we rolled together.
“You mustn't here,” were her last words, as if she thought there was impiety in the act I contemplated. But the struggle was over, both meant fucking, modesty and fears were conquered as I mounted her, clutched her solid haunches and plunged my prick up her and very soon, too soon, sighing our pleasure we spent. Her cunt was overflowing with my libation and her contribution, whilst silent and coupled we lay on the Turkey carpet of the robing room — a glorious fuck it was.
I lay on her in blissful silence clasping the sides of her smooth cool buttocks. — “I'm a feared that he'll come back,” murmured she uncunting me. “He can't, the door is locked.” We got up and her petticoats falling hid the charms which I'd never even seen at all. — We talked quietly, and she eyed the sovereigns. — Fucking opens a woman's mouth as well as her cunt. The sexton's duty was not to leave the church, but he often did and locked her mother in on Saturdays, and went away to drink. — He was a toper. The Rector never came there on Saturdays, it was cleaning up day. “He writes his sermons then — I'm told.” — Much more talk was of the same sort mixed with baudy suggestions. — “Then you like fucking, don't you?” — “Oh, not at all,” said she smiling. — “Hush — he's knocking at the entrance.” — “It's nothing, let him wait, say you didn't hear him.”
Looking full in each other's eyes and sitting, touching each other, I knew that the libation must have been wetting her thighs, and the idea of that began to stiffen me. I'd never seen her cunt, for as I pulled up her petticoats I rolled on to her. “Let's look at it, and we'll fuck again.” — “Oh no — he'll be back — tell me the time.” — I looked at my watch and told. — “Oh, he won't be back yet if he's gone for a booze, but I can't — I can't wash here.” — “There is water in the pail.” — “I shan't — I can't — no — I won't.” A long resistance more baudy talk and the incitement of a stiff prick again. “Oh — oh — now, if he comes back.” — A struggle, but I fingered her gluey orifice, and in a few minutes had her laying on her back on the table, fucking her, my hands, holding up her fat thighs, every now and then glancing down at my tool as it worked up and down in her well haired split, and so again we con-summated. — “He'll sure be back soon — oh — do go — what will he think of your being here so long?” — I kissed her and departed through the Rector's door to the churchyard. I gave her a parting kiss. — “Your cunt's wet.” “It's not dry, go along,” said she laughing. Delighted with my afternoon's amusement, I lingered near the church and walked round the churchyard, which was at that point some feet below the level of the Rector's room; no one could have looked at our tricks through the windows. I met the sexton soon after at the entrance porch, he was groggy and talkative. Then he knocked hard at the door with a stick, then rang a bell. I stopped, the woman opened it. How she opened her eyes when she saw me. I winked at her over the sexton's shoulders, and left. — It was the sex-ton's daughter I heard later on. — She also was a Mary she told me. What a lot of Marys I've tailed. — How fine and firm and fuckable are these country wenches, what juicy cunts.