54

The streets leading out of the Waterloo road were then occupied much

by gay women. Some were absolutely full of them; they were mostly of

a class to be had for a few shillings if they could not get more (my

Granby street adventure has been already told). but many a swell I have

noticed lingering about there. My mother now took nearly all my

money for my board, but with the little remaining, I had a knock off

occasionally. It was one of my pleasures to walk up those streets when

dark and talk with the women at the windows, which were always open

whatever the weather, unless some one as within engaged with the ladies.

Each woman had generally but one room, but two or three used to sit

together in the front room in their chemises. There was the bed,

wash-stand, chamberpot and all complete. Perhaps one lolled out of the

window, showing her breasts, and if you gave such a one a shilling,

she would stoop so that you could see right down past her belly to her

knees, and have a glimpse of her cunt-fringe. Sometimes one would pull

up her garter, or another sit down and piddle, or pretend to do so, or

have recourse to other exciting devices when men peeped in.

I used to look in and long. Sometimes had a shilling peep, and then

bashfully asked for a feel of the cunt for it. I so often succeeded,

that ever since then I wanted that amusement, have offered a shilling

for a feel, and met with but few refusals in any part of London.

Sometimes it ended in a fuck. Once or twice to my astonishment they

took mere trifles, and as I think of it, there is wonderfully little

difference between the woman you have for five shillings, and the one

you pay five pounds, excepting in the silk, linen, and manners.

One night I saw a woman with very fat breasts looking out of the window

(I was then fond of stout women); and after talking a minute, asked her

if she would let me feel her cunt for a shilling. "Yes," said she. In I

went, down she shut the window, and in another minute I was groping her.

She did not let me feel her long. I had not felt such a bum since Mary's

(already told of), and it so wetted my appetite, that I struck a bargain

for a fuck. She was soon stripped, and all I now recollect about her is,

that her cunt was large and covered with hair of a brownish colour; that

her eyes were dark; and that she seemed full twenty-five years of age. I

fucked her on a sofa.

When I had buttoned up she produced a book full of baudy pictures of

which I then had seen but few; and I went a second time to see the book,

rather than her. Looking over it, she pointed out to me with a laugh,

several pictures of men putting their pricks into women's arse-holes,

and into the rumps of other men. Having never before seen such pictures,

and having no idea of the operation, I felt modest, and turned to

others; but she so regularly as we turned over the leaves pointed

out this class, that my sense of shame gave way to curiosity; and not

believing, asked if it was possible to do it so. "Lord yes," said she.

"Does it not hurt?" said I. "Not if properly done," she replied,

and went on to say it was delicious some men thought; and she talked

altogether in a very knowing way about it; told me how it was best to

grease the hole first, then the prick, and to shove gently, and went on

so, that I said on a sudden, "Why, you have done it, I think." "Yes, but

only with a particular friend of mine who is very fond of it,--and so am

I; it is better than the other."

I felt shocked, bewildered, and excited. The subject dropped, but she

sat feeling me, slipping her finger under my balls, and pressing my

arse-hole with her finger. I prepared to fuck. She suggested she should

kneel with her buttocks towards me, so that she could feel my balls when

my prick was up her. I assented, and her bum-cheeks were presented to

Excited by her conversation and her hints, I looked curiously at

her large slit, and then at her bum-hole; I touched the latter, and she

drove her bum back upon my finger with a laugh. I did not take her hint,

but drove my prick into her quim and pushed in the regular fashion.

Thinking of the pictures excited me and without knowing what I said,

I suddenly pulled it out saying, "Let me put it into the other." "Not

tonight," said she, "put your thumb a little way in, your nail is quite

short" (she had noticed that I used to bite my thumbnails short). I

instantly did, the next moment spent, and dropped over her back, waiting

for the last drop of sperm to run off into her.

Her hints, her pictures, of which she had actually scores, stirred my

curiosity, her manner disgusted me, yet my brain seemed affected. Is it

possible, thought I, that a man's prick can go in there?--impossible.

And yet she says she has had it done to her, and my thumb went in easily

enough. The more I thought, and the more I reflected how a hard turd

hurt me sometimes in passing it, the more I was puzzled about the

intense pleasure which she said the operation gave! To solve my doubts

(although I had determined not), I went to her again, and saw the

pictures. She again talked about them, until scarcely knowing what I was

doing, "Will you let me?" I asked. "Don't talk loud," said she, "it will

never do to let any one know what we are at." Our voices dropped to a

whisper, whilst by her advice I pulled off trousers and drawers, and she

stripped stark naked.

Then she carefully greased my prick with pomatum, and put some on her

arse-hole; it was the work of a minute, not a word was said. She then

stark naked, sat by the side of me on the sofa, began fondling and

kissing me, took my hand in hers and rubbed my fingers on her clitoris,

half frigged herself with my fingers, I let her do what she liked. Then

she turned round. "Put it in," she said when her rump was towards me,

"then give me your hand, and don't push till I tell you." Her arse-hole

was at the level of my prick as I stood by the side of the sofa, my

machine was like a rod of iron, my brains seemed on fire, I felt I was

going to do something wrong, dreaded it, yet determined to do it. "Put

it in, slowly," said she in a whisper. The hole opened, felt tight,

but to my astonishment almost directly my whole prick was hidden in it

without pain to me or any difficulty. "Give me your hand." I did. Again

she began frigging herself with my fingers. "Rub, rub, push gently," she

said, and I tried, but was getting past myself. "Now," said she with a

spasmodic sort of half cry, half grunt. I felt my prick squeezed as in

a vice, I shoved or rather scarcely began to do so when I discharged a

week's reserve up her rectum. My brain whirled with excitement, whilst

she leaning over the pillows on the sofa, kept breathing hard and half

snorting like a pig, still frigging herself with my fingers.

As my sense returned, I could scarcely believe where my prick was,

excitement still kept it stiff, but desire had left me. I pulled it out

with an indescribable horror of myself.

"Wasn't it delicious?" said she. "I like it, don't you? You may always

do it so." What I replied I know not; I washed, dressed and got out of

the house as soon as I could. When in the street, I was sick. I ran off

fearing some one would see me, got into a Hackney-coach and drove in the

wrong direction; then got out and went a round-about way home, fearing

some one was following to upbraid or expose me. I scarcely slept that

night for horror of myself, never went up the street again for years,

and never passed its end without shuddering, have no recollection of

having had pleasure, or of any sensation whatever; all was dread to

And so ended that debauch; one I was deliberately let into by that

woman, having never thought of such doings before as possible, or at

all, as far as I can recollect.

****

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