My Secret Life

In late autumn this year I was at a Lancashire sea-port town, and at about five o'clock one afternoon, wandering about looking at the shops, noticed a well made, well grown woman, with an absolutely lovely face and marvellously clear complexion — tho perhaps too white — who was sauntering along doing the same. I stood close to her whilst she looked at a bon-net shop, but she took no notice of me. Was she a har-lot or not, wandering about alone? I'd had no sexual desire before, now in a minute it overwhelmed — de-sire for her.

She was dressed like a genteel, poorish, middle class woman excessively plainly, but the dress was worn with such an air of distinction, that for the moment I chased the idea of her accessibility. — I followed her a long distance noticing the swing of her haunches, and the way she placed her pretty feet which were visible - for her petticoats were short. — Her boots tho neat were common and thick. She took no notice of passers by, nor they of her. She cannot be a strumpet thought I, but a handsome offer may get her if she's poor. — But where take her to? For I knew no place. Abandoning half formed intentions, yet with a voluptuous pego I stopped, and just then she turned round and re-traced her steps, meeting me, looking casually at me just as any other woman might. I turned round and followed her, still with undefined intention.

Again she stopped at a shop. I stopped too and re-marked that what she was looking at was pretty. She quietly looked at me and agreed that it was. Her manner made me now think she was to be had. She walked on and I did by her side. — “How lovely you are, let me go home with you.” — “Ah! No — impossible — good day Sir,” and she turned round. Yet there was some-thing in her manner — I knew not what — which faintly bespoke the courtezan.

With hope I turned round also, and walked by her side repeating my wish, asking her to have a glass of wine, and so on. — She begged me to go, was waiting for a friend, it would do her harm if she were seen walking with a gentleman. — Yes, she expected him every minute. — “I wish I were he, I'd give a couple of sovereigns to be half an hour with you.” She stopped short at once and looked at me. “A couple of sovereigns! That would be a help to us just now.” — She said this as if reflecting, as if speaking to herself. — Then again she walked on, I keeping still by her side but keeping silence.

“Don't come with me, I'm expecting my lad.” Then she hesitated, then went on. “If he doesn't come by this, he can't come for two hours — tell me the time.” — I did. “An he come, we'll be off together at once, if not and ye'll give me two sovereigns, ye may, but I ain't got no lodgings, I've given them up, for I'm off tonight and for good.”

Then she said she must wait full ten minutes to make sure, she'd walk up and down, I was to wait at the corner of a street she pointed out, then if her lad hadn't arrived she be with me. — She spoke in broad Lancashire dialect, which I do not attempt to imitate, and which at times I could scarcely understand.

Never did ten minutes seem so long to me. — I counted every minute in a fever of impatience, pictured her secret charms to myself, wondering at split, motte, thighs, whether she'd fuck well, and if she wanted fucking. At times I furtively felt my pego which kept rising and falling with lust, and feared I should not have her, for full ten minutes had passed when she appeared. “Where shall we go?” said I. — “I've no lodgings now and only know a poor place about here.” — I would have gone to a pig sty with her, and in five minutes the poor place held us. It was a little obscure house in a court, almost a cottage, with two rooms for hire, but the bed room was comfortable with a good fire.

“My lad can't be here for two hours and a half now, there be'ant another train yet, and ye'll gie me two?” said she the instant the door was closed. — My reply was to produce the coins and put them into her hand. — “It will do us a power of good just now, and ye'll be the last.” — “Why?” — “I'm going away to night to be married.” — I scarcely heeded what she said being so impatient for my pleasure, and put my hand up her petticoats. She repulsed them, and I thought for the instant she was going to bilk me.

Not the first time that idea has come over me when with a gay woman. “Let's feel it.” — “Wait a bit, you shall, don't fear.” Composed in manner and as unlike a harlot as possible, she took off bonnet and jacket most carefully and then sat down. “Let's feel your cunt.” — “I will.” Stooping I pushed my hand up her petticoats, and felt the silky fringed notch. — “Ye're in a hurry” — laughing. “Take your things off and let me see your cunt.” — “You shall. — you shall, — never fear — wait a bit.” Slowly she took them off — I di-vested myself of clothing and showed my prick. — “Ohooo,” she whispered, and stopped undressing. “Take them off.” — “What, all? — There” — and she stood naked.