My Secret Life

I got on my knees, contemplating the sausage lips half open, from which my sperm was oozing, and then got off sorry it had been so quick a business. She laid without moving and looking kindly at me said, 'Ye may ha me agin an yer loike. But your father will be home?” “In half an hour,” said she. “I don't think I can, said I. Such coolness in a woman was new to me, I scarcely knew what to make off it. She got hold of my tool, I had not had a woman for some time, soon felt lust entering my rod again, and sought her cunt with my hands. She opened her legs wider in a most condescending manner, and I began feeling it. I was soon fit, which she very well knew, for immediately with a broad grin on her face she pulled me on to her and put my prick in her cunt herself, lodging it with a clever jerk of her bum, a squeeze, and a wriggle.

I fucked quietly, but it was now her turn; she heaved and wriggled so that once she threw my prick out of her, but soon had it in again. “Shove, shove,” said she suddenly, and I shoved with all my might, she gripped my arse so tightly that she must have left the marks of her fingers on it, then, with a close wriggle and a deep sigh, she lay still, her face as red as fire, and left me to finish by my own exertions. I felt the same squeeze of the cunt as I withdrew, one of those delicious contractions which women of strong muscular power in their privates can give; not all can do it. Those who cannot never can understand it. Those who can will make a finger sensible of its clip, if put up their cunts.

She got up and tucked her chemise between her legs to dry her split, she did not wash it. “I am always alone,” said she, “between eight and twelve just now,” and as any woman just then answered my wants, I made opportunities, and I had her again two or three times, till a rare bit of luck occurred to me.

We were in the bedroom one hot day; to make it cooler I took off trowsers and drawers, laid them on a chair, carefully rolled my shirt up round my waist, so as to prevent spunk falling upon it, and thus naked from my boots to waist, laid myself on the top of my rollicking, belly-heaving, rump-wriggling country lass.

I always gave her five shillings before I began; she had taken a letch for me, or else, being hot cunted and not getting it done to her often, dearly liked my poking her; and, seeming to want it that day unusually, began her heaving and wriggling energetically. We were well on towards our spend, when with a loud cry of “Oh! my God!” she pushed me off and wriggled to the bedside. I got off and saw a sturdy country girl of about fifteen or sixteen years standing in the bedroom door, looking at us with a broad grin, mixed with astonishment, upon her face.

For an instant nobody spoke. Then the girl said with a malicious grin, “Pretty goings on Sarah, if fearther knowed un-” “How dare you stand looking at me?” said Sarah. “It's my room as well as yourn,” said Martha, for that was her name; and nothing further was said then. But Martha's eyes fixed on me as I sat naked up to my waist with my prick wet, rigid, red, throbbing, and all but involuntarily jerking out its sperm. I was in that state of lust, that I could have hacked anything in the shape of a cunt, and scarcely knew, in the confusion of the moment, where I was, and what it was all about. Sarah saw my state, and began pulling down my shirt. “Go out of the room,” said she to her sister. “Damn it I will finish, I will fuck you,” said I making a snatch at her cunt again. “Oh! for God's sake, don't, sir,” said she. With a grin out went young sister Martha into the kitchen, and then Sarah began to blubber, “If she tells fearther, he will turn me out into the streets.”

“Don't be a fool,” said I, “why should she tell?” “Because we are bad friends.” “Has she not done it?” “No, she is not sixteen.” “How do you know she has not?” “Why we sleep together, and I know.” “Who sleeps in the other bed?” “Fearther.” “In the same room?” “Yes.” “Don't you know anything against her?'” “No, last haymaking I seed a young man trying to put his hands up her clothes, that's all; she has only been a woman a few months.” If she tells of her, she will tell of me, I thought. It might come to my aunt's ears, Fred would know, and I should get into a scrape.