My Secret Life (84 page)

Read My Secret Life Online

Authors: Anonymous

The rooms were elegantly tho not expensively furnished. A maid, well dressed, appeared, then disappeared with the lady, soon returned, and I found to my great relief she could speak a little French. The Senorita hoped I’d stay and eat with her (it was half past five) and I began to fancy I’d made a mistake and that the lady was no common courtesan. — Circumstances, I said, made it impossible for me to stay. The maid went out and returning, said her mistress would soon be ready, would I wash (the heat and dust was great in the ring). I accepted, not having any idea where I was to go, and astonished, was shown into the room where was the lady in chemise, finishing her toilette She laughed, pointed to the basin, the maid poured out water, left the room, and there was I with this exquisite creature in her chemise brushing her hair, looking ever and anon at me, and smiling.
I now felt sure she was a mistress. I didn’t want words, knew that the fee would be high. So when I’d washed I put on my coat — which was all I’d taken off. — She said, — “No — No” — flung both arms round me, and kissing me lusciously, intimated I was to take my things off. The peep at her breasts as she kissed me made me desire her immensely, I kissed her passionately in return, then took out my purse and showed two gold coins, intimating that that was all. She laughed immoderately and nodded, speaking all the time, but I didn’t understand a word.
Then she began to undress me, laughing all the time. It was irresistible. — I stripped to my shirt and laid down, she beside me. Then she embraced me in the usual fashion, opened her thighs for me to look and feel, examined my prick, laid down again and squeezed my piercer, smiling at its prompt erection, whilst I felt her cunt. We were coupled immediately, her cunt seemed divine as I spent in it, and in a few minutes all was over. She was energetic in love making and spent with passion. We both washed — then at her cunt I looked more tranquilly, saw her naked form — and a lovely form she had. — She would not let me go, dragged me down on the bed again, made me gamahuche her, then fuck her, and by that time she was satisfied. Laying by the side of me, a thigh thrown carelessly over mine, she called the maid, asked the time, ejaculated, “Holy Virgin,” said I must go and began to dress herself rapidly. I the same, we kissed and I departed. The servant told me the Senorita was mistress of the Count
****
and told me to go off in a particular direction, which I did. Next day I left M
*
d
**
d. A more lovely creature I never embraced. She had crisp short hair round her bum hole and a little on her buttocks — tho she said she was only twenty-one. — Her face was a dream of beauty.
A week after, occurred one of the strangest incidents of my career. Walking up a back and steep lane on the margin tho in the city of G
**
n
*
da, strolling with no object excepting to see the city; standing at a sort of cottage door was a lad of about fourteen, who to my astonishment beckoned me and smiled. — I stopped, he beckoned me in, and curious I entered, utterly unsuspecting till well within the entrance, where he exposed his prick. I shook my head, he called out, and a girl of about the same age appeared, together with a stout, bloated yet not bad-looking woman seemingly about thirty-five years old. She spoke, and tho scarcely understanding a word, I found unmistakably that she had come to offer the
girl or herself.
Then to my utter wonderment, by the aid of about half a dozen words, and by gestures, I found that she was the mother of both, that I might have either or all of them, a choice of two cunts and one anus. Whether she was really the mother I cannot of course say, but I repeated in Spanish the words, mother, son, daughter, pointing to each successively, and to all she said “yes” and nodded.
I had had no desire for fucking, nor did the family facilities stimulate me. It really shocked me, tho there was nothing to be shocked at. Shaking my head I gave the woman a few
reals
and departed, she seemed much pleased. He had replaced his pendant tool.
I walked on thinking of this jumble of whores and bugger, (such I now supposed the youth to be) my mind concentrating itself on the girl — a poor sallow creature tho she was. — I wondered what sort of a quim she had, thought I might never have the chance again of seeing that of a Spanish girl of fourteen, my fancy pictured it, I thought till my cock stood, then went back and saw a big common Spaniard talking at the door. I waited in the distance till he went off — he passed and scanned me. Then I wondered if there was danger, but dismissed the idea, for at ten o’clock on a sunshiny morning all must be secure — I entered the house, the little bugger still at the door — thought he was my aim, but shaking my head and saying the single word “girl” — he bawled out, and the two females reappeared smiling. Soon mother and son left, the daughter remained, and in a minute was naked on a miserable bed.
I got out of her somehow, mainly by counting on my fingers, and by signs, coupled with a few simple words, that she was fifteen. She’d three times the quantity of hair on her cunt that an English girl of that age has. She wasn’t lewed in manner, seemed dejected, indifferent. — There was no water, so I made her know by signs that I wanted to wash, and naked she went out and returned with some in a large earthen pan.
She washed her cunt, I my prick, then after inspection of her carnal aperture, and a look at her mouth which had good teeth, I intimated by signs that I wanted to be gamahunched.
She had been as slow and solemn as if at her funeral, but now burst into a laugh, knelt on the bed rapidly, and took my pego into her mouth with quite an air of delight; the next minute it was erect and she handling it with admiration. Then she laid down saying (I suppose) “Come on” but I had fear and kept repeating “doctor, doctor,” the only word I could to intimate doubts of her health. — When she understood she ran to the door shouting, “Madre.” In came the woman, they both chattered to me at once I know not what, but they understood, for the mother put the girl on the bed, and holding open her cunt lips invited me to see her gap, emphatically repeating “bono, bono.” — I nodded satisfied, and off the other went. The I reflected, decided to leave, but again lust came on stronger. I felt and looked at the youthful slit, then yielded and fucked the girl.
I paid her, and when leaving the lad appeared and asked for money. An age had passed since I’d felt or seen a boy’s cock. Without a word, without thinking scarcely, a libidinous curiosity sprang up, I pointed to his prick, at once he pulled it out, I handled it and his balls till it stood, but did no more having no pederastic tastes. He like his sister had more hair for his age about his genitals, than we English have.
Shortly afterwards at G
**
r
**
t
*
r, my taste for poor Paphians seems to have revived. [I like always to see all classes of the needful, much abused, pleasure-givers to the male.] Gay ladies of high class I saw not at all, and one evening dressed in my shabbiest to make myself look poor and common as might be, I went up to the quarters where Tommy Atkins gets his sexual solace, and was astonished at the really fine women I saw there. Coarse and common enough in manner, yet good in form I found the two or three whom I stripped for luxurious contemplation at a shilling a piece [it seems incredible to me now that price.] Then at a somewhat better house, having no fear there of Paphian ailments — for Tommy’s women are medically cared for well — I fucked a couple at half a crown a piece saying I couldn’t afford more. I enjoyed them much, delighted also with the economical instruction.
I fancy they would have taken a shilling for their pleasure from any soldier. Those I had were Spaniards, I noticed a Negress, but whether a punk or servant know not. Then having tailed none of the so called lovely girls of C
*
d
*
z tho I felt one peripatetic’s grummit on a moonlight evening — a cheap delight, what charm is in a cunt! — I sailed for home, bringing away with me the baudiest Spanish words for genitals and copulation which I made one of the soldier’s women spell for me, as I wrote them down. (The others couldn’t write or read.) This paper I lost, and the terms I cannot now recollect. Now I take up my narrative on my return to England.
I had told H
***
now all the erotic incidents of my life. She, with her fertile brain, voluptuous temperament, and experience in amorosities, both approved, desired to emulate them, and herself to invent. She wasn’t — as already said, — at first frank about her letches and lusts, hiding them somewhat and throwing the suggestion of their gratification upon
me
making
herself
but the complaisant partner; but the mask was now pretty well removed — tho probably women in all classes never quite tell their letches or the truth about their baudy wishes — who knows? When guessing her desires, after talking about some luxurious fancies, I passed them over then finding I did not initiate anything, she referred to them again on other visits, and I met them by some such questions as, “Would
you
like so and so to gamahuche you” — or “Like another man or woman with us?” — or “Like me to see you fucked by another?” — “Yes I should” came frankly at last. Then it was, “Let’s have a woman to gamahuche me, but
you
ask me to let her, I don’t want
her
to think I wish her.” Singular modesty, it seemed to me.
Then we got our lascivious tastes gratified and to the full. That kept me from other amours, and to her almost alone, for she had youth, supreme beauty of face and form, was clever, conversable, voluptuous, and enjoyed every lewed device both in body and mind — aye to the extreme. She agreed with me that every amourous trick might be tried, and we gratified our desires to the limits of possibility. I wanted no other woman, excepting when away from town, or on a sudden letch, or out of mere curiosity. These I nearly always told her of. Some of our amorous play I preserve in this narrative, some will never be even whispered about — the knowledge of it will die with us.
H*l*n soon had great pleasure in talking of her former tricks — would tell what she’d done or had heard of — reserve was utterly gone between us. She pronounced mine to be a most wonderful amatory career, when she had read a large part of the manuscript, or I had read it her whilst in bed and she laid quietly feeling my prick. Sometimes she’d read and I listen, kissing and smelling her lovely alabaster breasts, feeling her cunt, till the spirit moved us both to incorporate our bodies. Her sexual passion was strong, her strength great. I have fucked her thrice, and gamahuched thrice, yet seen her frig herself after that, and all in four hours, without showing a sign of fatigue. — [Five years after she was as strong.]
Having now no harlot acquaintances, it was a real pleasure to her to have some one to talk with on these subjects. — Telling her of Camille one evening and talking of gamahuching, she said, tho the little servant whom I fucked had done it, it was a long time since a
woman
had gamahuched her. She liked a fine, fattish woman to do it to her and took a letch for Camille from my description of her. Camille was long past forty yet wonderfully well preserved, and one evening solely to gratify H*** I got Camille to visit her.
We had a lovely little dinner at H*l*n’s, then adjourned to her bedroom, both women stripped and looked at each other’s cunts — they were so quiet about that — and then Camille gamahuched. “Fuck her, fuck her whilst she’s licking me, let me see it,” H. cried — But I wouldn’t — I couldn’t bear my sperm to go into any cunt but her own, and after she’d spent thrice under Camille’s active tongue, I fucked her. Then after half an hour’s rest Camille again licked H.’s quim till she screamed with the exhaustion of pleasure, and Camille could lick no longer. After repose and wine I wanted Camille to suck
me,
but she refused, telling H. she’d never done it. — A lie, for she has many times minetted me tho she never liked it, and always wanting me to fuck her. — Poor Camille liked me to the last.

Other books

The Reactive by Masande Ntshanga
Too Consumed by Skyla Madi
Murder in Burnt Orange by Jeanne M. Dams