Mabel was quarrelsome. “You”, said she turning to Lady A..., “said that your husband's thing was long and thin, you tried to mislead me in the bet, you wanted to make me lose.” They had evidently been discussing their men's pricks.
“So you have been telling how each of us fucks”, said Fred. Laura denied it. “We did”, said Mabel. “It's a lie Mabel, if you say it again, I'll tell some- thing more than you will like to hear about yourself.” Mabel retorted, Lady A. . . chimed in. It was a Babel of quarrelsome lewd women, with their cunts full.
I feared a row, and that Mabel might after all know more about my having had Laura, the night we all three slept in the same bed, than I cared for; so I pacified them. Fred said we had better try again, Laura objected. “Oh! yes Mrs. Modest”, said Mabel, “when you found it was not Fred, why didn't you cry out?” “I didn't know”, said Laura. “Ah ! ah ! the printer's wife”, we shouted, then more baudy talk, recriminations, and squabbling. Laura said she should go home, Fred said she might go by herself. Lord A... who had half fallen asleep, said it was too late, and we had better stop. Some one said we could soon again make the beds comfortable in the upper rooms. “That be damned”, said Fred, “we will all sleep on the floor as they are now.” “Free fucking for ever”, said I. Laura said I was a blackguard, Mabel said she should like it, Lady A... said she didn't care, if Adolphus didn't, Adolphus said any cunt would suit him. He was reeling drunk as he spoke.
All this time we were in shirts and chemises. One woman had thrown a shawl over her, one a petticoat, but their breasts flashed out, their arms were naked, their legs showing to their knees, the men were naked to their knees in their shirts. The scene was exciting, the women hadn't washed their cunts, Fred said so. Mabel asked him if he was sure of it. No, he would feel. Laura told him he must be drunk, and was a beast. “Drunk?” said he, “look here.” He turned a sommersault, and stood on his hands and head, his heels against the wall, his backside in the air, his prick and cods falling downwards over his belly, his shirt over his head. Lady A... took up a bunch of grapes, and dashed it on his ballocks. Then we chased the women round the room, tried to feel them, and they us. It was like hell broke loose, till we agreed to sleep on the floor together, any how.
No lights; lights and piss-pots were put in the back bed-room,—a woman suggested that. “You're frightened of farting”, said some one. The women went up to make the beds more comfortable, whilst we men fetched candles from the kitchen, the others being well nigh burned out. The women had washed their cunts, we had more wine, and then we all were pretty well screwed, and Lord A... pretty drunk when we went up to them.
Up to that time I was sufficiently sober to know all I have written, and plenty more. Surely I could tell a lot more of our conversation, but it would prolong the tale too much. After the last bottle of champagne I was groggy, recollect less clearly, was in a half-sleepy, feverish, excited, and baudy state, my sleep was broken by others, but when awake my prick stood immediately, and I moved all night from one woman to another, fucking, and then dozing.
To satisfy Laura, and keep up a sort of appearance, we had said we would only have our own women, who were again to lay in a certain order. Directly they had left the room, we agreed to change. A... doggedly insisted in having Mabel, so I was to take Laura, and Fred Lady A. .. It was such a lark. My prick was up Laura, when she cried, “It's not you Fred.” Then were simultaneous exclamations, “I'm not Mabel”, — “What a lovely cunt !” — “Leave me alone”, — “Feel my big prick”, “Damn, a cunt's a cunt”, hiccupped Lord A... “Oh ! — ah !” — “Ha ! my love fuck, — my darling, oh !” — kiss, kiss, — spending,—” Aha !” — sighs of delight, “cunt”, — “fuck”, — “oh !” — “ah I ah !” And I fell asleep on Laura amidst this.
Awake again. By my side a wet cunt, a heavy sleeper. Turning round, my legs met naked legs. I stretched out my hand, and felt a prick, perhaps Fred's, I don't know. Getting up I felt my way stumbling over legs to the wall to the furthest woman, and laid myself on her. “Don't Adolphus, I'm so sleepy”, said she. The next instant we were fucking. Others awakened. “Where are you?” said some one. Then all moved, one man swore, a hand felt my balls from behind. I was spending, and rolled off the lady; turning my bum to her. Then I touched Mabel, and put my hand on her cunt. A man dropped on her, and touched my hand with his prick. Ejaculations burst out on all sides, the couples were meeting again, then all was quiet, and the fucking done. Then all talked. All modesty was gone, both men and women told their sensations and wants, “You fuck me,-Feel me. — No, I want so and so”, Laura as lewd as the rest.
Again awaking. A hand was feeling my prick. “Is it you Laura?” “Yes.” I felt her cunt. “Oh! let me go and piddle.” But I turned on to her, and we fucked. “How wet your cunt is.” “No wonder.”
Again I awakened, some one got up, and fell down. “Hulloa! who is that?” “I want to piss, and can't get up”, said Lord A... in a drunken voice. Some one opened the door, a feeble light came across from the back room, we helped him up and he stumbled along with us men to piss. Then he insisted on going down- stairs. He could scarcely stand, so we helped him to the dining-room, we lighted more candles, he swilled more wine, tumbled on to the sofa, where we left him drunk and snoring, and found him snoring the next morning with the heath-rug over him. We two went back to the women. “I've fucked all three”, said Fred. “So have I.” “Laura's a damned fine fuck, ain't she?” Some one shut the room-door opposite, as we reached the landing. We pushed it open. Two ladies were pissing: Marie and Laura. “Where is Mabel?” “Drunk”, replied one. The two were past caring for anything, pissed and went back with us to the bed-room. I took a light there. Mabel was on her back nearly naked, we covered her up, for it was cold. Then I fucked Laura, and Fred Lady A. . . The light we left now on the wash-hand stand, as we looked at each other fucking and enjoyed it, and then we changed women. There was no cunt-washing, we fucked in each other's sperm, no one cared, all liked it, all were screwed, baudy, reckless, Mabel snoring.
I awakened after a heavy sleep, chilly, feverish, headaching, and thirsty. I drew aside the curtains; it was late, light, but foggy; a nasty winter's morning. Fred and the three ladies lay snoring, some covered, others partially so, the floor looking as if every article of bed-furniture had been thrown down with a pitch-fork. I drank water, and fucked out as I was, my lubricity was unsatiated. I could not resist gratifying it.
Moving stealthily I uncovered the sleepers one by one. It was easy enough, as the clothes lay loose and in shapeless heaps. I saw Fred's prick touching Mabel's haunch, contemplated Laura's thick-haired quim, saw spunk on her chemise. She looked lovely. Lady A.. . on her back, her hand over her cunt, red stains about her, and on the sheet which I pulled off of her,-her poorliness had come on. Mabel on her back looked ready for a man. My cock stiffened, I laid myself on Laura, and awakened her. That awakened Fred who mounted Mabel. Both couples took to the exercise in the foggy day-light, and a long time we were in con-summating. “Oh ! do leave off”, said Laura, “I'm so sore.” My prick was excoriated, it had not been so for many a day.
Never have I been in such an orgie before, never since, and perhaps never shall be; but it was one of the most delicious nights I ever spent. So said Fred, so said Mabel; and Laura admitted to me at a future day that she thought the same, and that since, when she frigged herself, she always thought of it, and nothing else.
I thought of nothing else for a long time. Nothing has ever yet fixed itself in my mind so vividly, so enduringly, except my doings with my first woman, Charlotte. At the beginning of my writing these memoirs, this was among the first described. The narrative as then wrtten was double its present length, and I am sorry that I have abbreviated it, for the occurrences as I correct this proof seem to come on too quickly. Whereas we dined at seven o'clock, and it was one o'clock I guess before we all went to bed together, and the stages from simple voluptuousness to riotous baudiness and free-fucking were gradual. At eight o'clock not one of us would have dared to think of, still less to suggest, what we all did freely at mid-night.