My Secret Life

Opposite my mother's was a small low sort of bed-stead called a child's, I don't know why. It was covered with a large skin on a mattress. Muther used it as a sofa. My prick was actually up against Sarah's belly, my balls nestling in the hair of her cunt, my hands tightly round her burn, but her legs were so close together, that I could not get into her; I put one hand down to open the road to her cunt, but could not manage it, though her resistance was growing less. She ceased praying me to leave off, but tried by putting her hands down, to dislodge me from her belly, withdrawing her hands as they touched my prick. The blinds were down, no one but us in the house, I saw the child's bed, pulled her towards it, I going backwards. We fell on it together, she more than half on the top of me; another struggle, and her petticoats were flung up as I rolled her round on to her back. She tried to pull them down, bringing her knees half up to meet them; I saw her buttocks beneath and recklessly pushing with my hand, a finger went half-way up her cunt. Down went her legs quite straight, the next instant I was on the top of her. I weighted her down, she lay panting. “Now do Sarah dear, be quiet.” She said not a word, nor looked at me. I pressed my knees, and with difficulty opened her thighs, and we were belly to belly; with one or two vigorous shoves, in went my prick without difficulty and spending as it entered. So did abstinence, desire, and excitement tell on me. It has often behaved in the same way.

I was now at a time of life when I could do more fucking, and after long abstinence if I liked a woman, could sometimes do it twice before withdrawing. The first words she uttered were, “Oh! let me go down-stairs, the dinner will be spoiled.” But what did that matter to a man whose prick was stiff up a cunt ! So I waited my second enjoyment; and if I know anything about the matter, you my dear Sarah, brought your liquor out to mix with mine.

Scarcely was my prick out of her, before the street bell rang; downstairs she ran, I went upstairs. I recollect how wet my hair and my balls were as I ran, wrapping them up. It was her sister. Directly afterwards home came mother. Dinner was served, what a row there was, the meat was not done, the vegetables smashed. “It is disgraceful,” said mother, “has she been upstairs Walter?” How queer I felt at that question, and wonder my confusion was not noticed. I said I did not know. “I will be bound she has,” said mother, “and been trying on her finery before going out tonight, Sundays and dress are the ruin of servants now-a-days.” “I have been out,” said I to mother. “You would have done yourself more good had you been to church,” said she.

After dinner mother went up to her bed room as was her custom, to doze on the small bed; the next minute her bell rang violently. “Send up Sarah,” said she angrily to Susan, and up she went, I went into the hall listening in a funk. “Why don't you keep my bed-room door closed ?” said she, “as I tell you.” “I am almost sure it was closed when I went out.” “Have you been in here?” “No m'am”, stammered the poor woman, “the nasty cat has been up here on this bed (luckily the cat had done that once before), and been scratching up the skins. “You must have opened the door, — and oh ! the beast has made some mess upon it.” Mother told Sarah to wipe up the place, it was only marks of what Sarah's overflowing cunt and my prick had dropped in our hurry. A little more blowing up, and mothers' anger was over. Sarah came down, looking more dead than alive, when I saw her in the hall.

In the evening Sarah went out, and I to church, — so mother thought, — but in reality to meet Sarah. For an hour we walked about, then as it grew dark began kissing. What a difference the morning had made. No resistance now, my hand roved over the smooth bum and belly, a slight objection on the part of. the thighs as my hand touched the hairy covering, but for an instant only, then as of a right the fingers felt the moist lapels, which were soon opened by my prick, as I fucked her up against the wall of the garden, at the very spot where some weeks previously I had fucked the unknown lady, and caught the clap.

Good and bad luck come in heaps. I was now in for the good. Next Sunday and others afterwards, we had a nice half-hour on her bed, or my bed, or on the sofa in the parlour; but we left no signs of the cat anywhere.

My mother then went on a long visit to my aunt in H—tf—dshire, wanted me to go, but I could not get away, so she took my sister from my aunt's and Tom, and to my delight took Susan. Sarah was left as servant, the deaf female relative came again to take charge of the house, and we three were alone in it. My mother's last words were, “Give as little trouble as you can, and I hope Walter, you will keep out of bad society, and not be out late.” I was mostly to dine with my guardian's executor, an old family friend.