My Secret Life

H. wouldn't mask herself and went down with a lovely laced chemise only on. — I with a shirt on only but masked. Laying along a sofa, was a fair haired, bearded man whom I judged between thirty five and forty, with his face hidden by both hands. He was laying about three quarters on his belly, so that we could see his prick — which was not stiff — and balls. His shirt was tucked up to above his waist, his trowsers pulled down to his knees, and the whole of his backside and thighs were bare. We stood by his side and the abbess began. — Swish. She talked some nonsense to him, about her being the governess and correcting him, to which he made no reply. The swishing went on slowly at about a stroke a minute, gradually his prick elongated and the gland extruded itself completely, as his backside grew redder and redder. Then she struck more quickly. — “Ohoo,” — he murmuringly whispered — “Ho —ho — I can't.” — Swish. — Swish. — His backside began to oscillate, his prick rubbed between his belly and the soft white sheet which covered the sofa. Then as arranged, H., who stood nearer his head than I did lifted her chemise up to her navel, showing her lovely thighs and chestnut covered motte, she liked shewing it. I saw his fingers open so that he could look thro them at her, yet I couldn't see a bit of his face, he murmured something as if in pleasure, jogged his belly as if fucking, and his prick which I could see well now, shot out a lot of sperm on to the sheet. Then he ceased and laid quiet, she dropped her chemise covering her charms, and we both left. I paid for the sight, and dare say that the victim paid for the sight of H.'s nudity.

Miss R., the fat rumped, had long ceased to be seen, and Miss B. at times could not be had tho both of us liked her, for she was a demon at minetting, and with difficulty could be got away from H.'s quim when once her mouth was on it. She had also as said a lovely cunt in size, shape, color, and growth of fringe. So fucking her from behind whilst she gamahuched H. gave infinite pleasure to us all.

The abbess liked to introduce others and no doubt got paid for it. One day a Miss D**sy was named. —“Speaks three languages, has been kept, not long been gay, and now only on the quiet, quite up to fun.” — So we had Miss D. a tallish, quite fair haired woman of say eight and twenty, a genteel woman who spoke French and German as I found, and who really knew much about Europe. She like all the others took a letch for H. — they all do — and of course I fucked her whilst minetting H. — the usual formula. But somehow her cunt didn't fit me at all, and I cared not about fucking her. Yet we had her several times, she was so conversable, and talked erotic philosophy in chaste language in the way poor Camille used, and for some reason or other — who can give reasons for letches tho we try? — the two women used to examine very curiously each other's cunts — a thing which usually H. did not care about doing, tho she'd frig any cunt near her when I was fucking her.

Miss D.'s cuntal fringe was silky but not very curly, and at half way down the sides of the lips the curls long. It continued so nearly round the division between prick hole and bum hole, and when she squatted to piddle — of course I made her do that, her cunt looked — as indeed it did when she stood upright or lay on the bed with thighs apart, — not unlike the end of a broom. I told her of this, saying it was ugly. — H. agreed with me.

Miss D. said she didn't like it and looked carefully at H.'s one day — whose lips as they die away towards her bum hole are slightly covered by the shortest hairs with a charming tendency to curl — I said that if D's were clipped short they would look nicer to me —tho perhaps not to others, for tastes vary. — It ended in my artistically trimming Miss D**sy's straggling cuntal fringe with the scissors. — Next time seen she was de-lighted, for the short hairs had actually curled partially, she examined them with a hand glass before us, and we without the glass. The beauty of her cunt was really enhanced by my tonsorial skill, and particularly when she knelt on the bed and we viewed her quim from behind.

Yet as her cunt after several trials didn't fit me, we discontinued seeing her. She was soon after again kept by a gentleman, the abbess said. — She was a conversable woman, and no doubt her cunt had found a suitable partner. — Some cunts never seem to fit me — others are delicious.

A couple of years nearly had passed since the erotic quartette. We often talked about it and H. wished we could play the same games again, but I had no such intention nor could afford it. I saw however from the tone our conversation took, that she wanted to have an-other man. “Shouldn't you like to see me fucked? I should like to feel your prick whilst he fucked me,” and so on.