49

I saw her legs again, from thinking of them and her rump, my mind

naturally went to her cunt, which I pictured must be very thick-lipped

and hairy like that of Sarah's, whose cunt had made a great impression

on me. Her age then seemed to fade from my mind, and I used to follow

her when going upstairs, trying to see her legs, and flattering myself

she did not see what I was after, but she knew it as well as I did.

One day going upstairs she stumbled upon her dress, and as if to prevent

doing it again, held it up, so as to show nearly to her knees. When she

got on the top stair she turned round, and as if she had only just seen

me, dropped her dress quickly. Another time she stooped and jutted out

her bum, so that I saw a good deal up the clothes, whilst she pretended

to be doing something to her boot. It seemed to me accidental, but it

was all intentional.

Then my prick used to stand when I saw her. About nine o'clock one

morning she came into the garden when I was there, and gathered

some herbs. Her stooping posture gave me a cock-stand, and under its

influence I joked her about her legs and my seeing them. She gave a

suppressed laugh and saying, "Lawd! did you sir?" went down into the

kitchen. What made me go down I do not know, but five minutes afterwards

I did so; and just by the kitchen door, saw her with one leg on a chair,

putting up her garter.

I stood stock still and silent. She adjusted one garter neatly, then put

up her other leg, unrolled the garter, pulled up the stocking and put on

the garter quite deliberately. I saw the flesh of her large thighs, for

her garters were tied above the knees, and she pulled up her petticoats

freely. Putting down her clothes she turned round, saw me, then with a

grin said, "Lawd sir, how you startled me."

Bursting with randiness I lost all prudence. Mother, sister, Tom, and

the other servant were about the house, but up to the cook I went,

whispering, "I saw your legs, what jolly ones, what thighs, what a cunt

you must have, let's have a feel," and got one hand up her clothes.

She pushed me away saying, "Hish! here is missis." It was a lie, but it

frightened me away.

The same evening I went downstairs after our dinner. The housemaid had

been sent to the circulating library. Mother, sister and Tom were, as

they usually were after dinner, when the weather was warm; sitting in

the summer-house at the bottom of the garden. I usually sat with them,

but slinked into the house, and down into the kitchen; which being

underground was darkish, although then it was light until eight o'clock.

Cook when she saw me, grinned and became familiar, for she was a regular

old stager, and knew well, that when a man wanted to take liberties with

her, she might safely take them with him. "What do you want?" "To feel

your cunt," said I, "see your legs, feel that crummy rump of yours,

cookey." "Then you won't," said she laughing, and lifting a heavy

saucepan off the fire with both hands, she carried it towards the sink

in the back kitchen. Randy and ready, I saw my opportunity; and as she

neared the sink, thrust both hands up her clothes, grasped her arse, and

was fumbling for her slit; when putting down the saucepan with a bang,

she flung round, and hit me such a slap on the head as knocked me over,

saying, "Why, you young devilskin, it would serve you right to tell your

mother of your capers," and then she stood and laughed at me.

I persisted, kissed the old party, and told her how I wanted her, for

indeed at that moment I would have fucked her, if she had been eighty.

She repulsed me saying in a whisper, "Harriet is upstairs." "She is

going out," said I. "Wait till she has, if she hears you, she will make

mischief." As I felt this might be true, I desisted.

I went back to the garden thinking, and hoping mother and sister would

not go indoors. When Harriet had gone oft, I went back into the garden

parlour quite leisurely (for mother could see me do that), then down to

the cook. It was nearly dark. In a minute I had pushed her up against

the dresser, was groping her, and she was feeling my prick and ballocks

with seemingly hearty enjoyment. She opened her legs to give me every

facility. I attempted to get into her, but her clothes and big belly

prevented me. She held my prick against her cunt, so that it pushed

against her orifice, but did not go up it; and such was my state, that

I spent against it. She kept hold of the prick, rubbing it, and gently

squeezing it, until not a drop of sperm was left in it. Then for fear

of being found out, upstairs I went again. The whole business, had not

occupied five minutes.

I had once spent by accident in Mary's hand, and had fear lest it should

disgust her. There was something about this affair, which seemed quite

different. I could scarcely make out how, with a cunt close to my prick,

I had spent as I had done. The next night came, I tried it on at the

same hour with the same result. She not only let me feel her, but put

my fingers to her cunt, at a place where she wished me to rub her, she

meanwhile frigging away at my prick. But I wanted more than this, and

just as it was too late, she let me put my prick in. At the first spurt

of my spunk, she by a twist threw my prick out, and caught hold of

it with her fingers, letting me spend over her thighs and linen, but

squeezing and frigging at my doodle until it had shrunk thoroughly down.

For a month the same thing occasionally happened. She would let me

finger, feel, rub her (in the nearly darkened kitchen), putting one leg

on a chair, or stooping down, or any way to let me feel both inside and

outside well. When I got my prick out, she immediately began to frig it.

I used to have quiet rows with her, for not letting me put it into her;

and when at length she did, I was always near spending; and do not think

that more than once, I spent up her completely, so did she manage to

throw me out just as my sperm began to flow. All was done standing up.

She treated me like some one she had known for years, did everything

before me, talked both baudily, and beastly, called my balls, my cods,

and used to say, "Hish! let me piss first." Then she would sit down on a

pail in the back kitchen and piss, sometimes farting, and saying, "oh!"

with a laugh, when she did so. She would belch without ceremony, blow

her nose through her fingers, and I noticed she never washed her hands

(whilst I was present at all events), when I had spent upon them.

She would say, "How are your cods off for starch to-night?" She was

complaisant enough in letting me feel, would turn her backside round and

let me fumble about it anyhow, but although want made me do what I did,

it never seemed quite pleasant to me, and I disliked her. I never got a

glimpse of her belly or cunt. If the front-kitchen was not dark enough,

she moved to the back, before we began our pranks, and scrupulously

avoided light. Her cunt I felt was a large one, but so far from having

the quantity of hair I expected, she seemed scarcely to have any. One

thing she did which annoyed me. After feeling my cock, she would slide

her hands under the balls to my arse-hole which she would press hard

with her middle-finger, giving a "tchick" with her tongue, at the same

time.