As I left the farm-gate, female hay-makers who had worked till dark, passed, curtsying as they recognized me. I thought of Whiteteeth but saw her not. Turning back from Penders after I had strolled past the cottage, I went up the lane languishing with lust, and leaned against a field-gate. I heard a step, — it was the woman with white teeth.
“Good night.” “Good night sir.” “Come here.” She stopped, came close, I laid hold of her arm, and drew her close to the gate. “Come into the field with me, I will give you five shillings.”
A slight chuckle, the white teeth show. “I dare not.” But as she spoke I had got her back up against the gate, and my hand on her grummit.
“My old man will be waiting me, — I can't.” Lifting her clothes I tried to impale her as she stood. “No, no, — some one will pass”, said she in a whisper. I put my hand on the latch, the gate opened, and we were in the field; the gate closed with a snap. I led her along by a ditch to a turn in the hedge; she made no resistance, in a minute we were buried in deep grass, my doodle buried in her cunt, we had spoken in whispers, all was silent excepting the insects which chirped in the hot summer's night.
How delightful these chance pokes are; there was my prick which had not been washed since it had left Pender's cunt, now wetting to its roots in the cunt of an unknown woman, — and I'd only just recovered from a clap. Not a word had we spoken from the moment we entered the field. We copulated in quietness. My prick did not uncunt, but I moved my arse out- wards, when with tightening grasps, a heave up, and a tightening of her cunt, she whispered, “Go on doing it.”
I could see the white teeth, but indistinctly, there was just sufficient light to see outlines, and anything white, but no colour. “I don't think I can, I have been doing it all day”, I said.
“You've had one of the other women”, said she in a whisper, “if I'd knowed it, you should not have had me”, and with a jerk she uncunted me.
“No,” said I, “it's a joke.” She raised herself slightly to look me in the face, but it was too dark. “I thought not”, said she; then she caught hold of my prick, fell on her back again, I saw indistinctly a broad expanse of thigh and belly. “Let's feel, — let's look.” Wide open were her legs in a minute, I felt a great, cool belly, strong, thick crisp hair, my fingers moved easily up the buttered love-trap, I could not see the opening.
“Hush !” said she, “there is a footstep.” Quiet on the grass we lay; tramp, tramp it came, past, and died away. “I wonder who it be”, said she.
She had kept hold of my prick, and soon our bellies met. When done she hurried me not out of her, seemed to like my indulgence, till she whispered, “I must go, keep here till you can't hear my footsteps before you come out, we be near the yard, and if I be seen I don't know what they will say.”
“My old man's at the “Lion”, but I'll go straight home.” “Perhaps he'll have gone home.” “Not he,-they allus sticks at the Public late, when they works late.” And with her cunt reeking, off she went.
I followed, intending to walk round to the front of the Hall. Passing Pender's house, to my astonishment she was standing at the door. I went up to her. “Oh !” said she, “Fender will be home, I expect him every minute.” She could hear his footsteps a mile off, but she would not let me into the house.
Opposite to Pender's was also a field-gate, I persuaded her to come out and stand there with me; the hedge hid anyone coming along the lane. “At the first sound of a footstep”, said I, “I will go into the field, and you can cross to your house.” I was longing for the woman, but scarcely thought I could do it after my day's fucking. The idea of putting my prick still wet with Whiteteeth's juices, into Pender's quim, stimulated me; my cock stood (in those days if it stood it was sure of doing duty). I closed up to her whispering love, and frigging her, she gradually getting be-sides herself with pleasure. At length up went my prick into her, and after a quarter of an hour's lamming, finished.
Meeting her husband in the lane might have cause suspicion, so into the field I went, intending to wait till he passed, laid down, fell asleep, awaking when it was broad daylight. I then waited two hours, walked round to the Hall, waited in the front till the door was opened, then went up to my room, and to bed. The servant saw me go in, and I imagine thought I had been out in the grounds without her knowing it, — certainly it never was known that I had been out all night.
I went to bed to rumple it, then down to breakfast, all the time thinking of some lie as an excuse for being out all night. “You were tired, and went to bed early I expect”, said aunt. “Yes,” said I. My limbs were aching from exposure to night-air, as I spoke.
Three days had made a great change in me. My prolonged abstinence from women, and now my recovery, my taking more to animal food, wine, and my usual mode of living, the quiet life I was leading, all my physical forces at their highest. My cock stood from morning till night, not a woman passed me, young or old, without my desiring them. I thought of nothing else, and to this perhaps is due the variety of poking I got. Luck usually falls to those who look out for it.
I have said there was a shrubbery round the grounds connecting with that from the Hall to the farm; quite on the other side of the Hall were the stables, and the gardener's house. None of the stablemen or gardeners were on the farm-side. The servants of the Hall slipped down to the farm to gossip, but it was not allowed. The only person who regularly traversed the shrubbery was Mrs. Pender, who twice a day took milk, and dairy produce to the Hall.
Half-way down this shrubbery-path was a path connecting with that which went quite round the grounds. Cunningly contrived, and leading out of it was one to a large privy, usual in such grounds as my aunt's. A large octagonal house covered with ivy, with a door and two glass windows, a house devoted to shitting, but large enough to hold a dozen people.
One or two days after I had had Whiteteeth and Pender, I dodged about after the latter, but there were people about. I went off to the hay-making, but there were only men carting hay; so I went sniffing about the servants in the house, but nothing came of that. In the afternoon I went to the farm-yard, and prowled about to find some chance, and place to get Pender, and went up into the big loft in the barn over the cart-shed. Why I went up there I don't know, and had not been there a minute before I heard a scuffle, and a kiss. “I shant, now—you saucy boy”, said a female voice. Another kiss, and a scuffle. “I must go to the house”, said the female. I peeped: it was a nursemaid, and my aunt's page. The girl ran off, leaving the page. They did not see me.
My aunt's male in-door servants consisted but of a middle-aged butler who had been in her service many years, a slow, solemn man, a widower, and a page taken on when small, who had recently grown rapidly, and was a heavy, stupid, gawky lad, between fifteen and sixteen years old, too big for his place. My aunt, although always intending to dismiss him, kept him on out of kindness, but at length had said, “Page must go, I shall not give him a new suit, it will be waste of money.” He looked stupid as an owl, and as if an idea about cunt would never have entered his mind.
This boy stood still reflecting, then unbuttoned his trowsers, pulled out a stiff, big prick, and after pulling the prepuce down once or twice, buttoned it up again; stood still, again unbuttoned, sat down on some straw, reflected, and then frigged himself. After wiping his fingers on the straw he went off, leaving me wondering at his lust, the size of his doodle, and the quantity of spunk he shot. “That lumpish boy to do that!” forgetting what I did, when only a little older than him.
“Hullo! what are you doing here?” said a voice. — it was Pender's. He made no reply. “You'd better be off to the Hall, you've no business here.” “I was fetching the nurse-maid.” “Well she's no business here; you cut, they will be ringing for you.” When the voices ceased I descended, and went to the Hall.
The head farm-man had recently died, he, his wife and daughter, had lived in the cottage in the farm-yard. Pender's husband had taken his place, but still lived in his cottage in the lane. The woman whose husband had died attended to things in general, the daughter assisted in the dairy, and worked very often up at the Hall. A pretty girl of a common, rustic style of beauty, and about sixteen years old; she used to curtsy to me when she met me, but I had never cast my eyes at her. As I skulked out through the rick-yard into the shrubbery-walk leading to the Hall I met her, stopped, and had a chat, a joke, and finished by a kiss, which she took in very bad part, and wiped away with her hand, as if I was quite disgusting. She was an only child, her name Molly.