My Secret Life, Volumes I. to III. - The Original Classic Edition. Anonymous Anonymous

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СКАЧАТЬ and that she prayed me to desist more lovingly than was usual. We had toyed for an hour, she had let a dish fall and smashed it, the baker rang, she took in the bread, and declared she would not shut the door unless I promised to leave off. I promised, and so soon as she had closed it, pulled her

       into the garden parlour, having been thinking when in the kitchen, how

       I could get her upstairs. Down tumbled the bread on the floor, on to the sofa, I pushed her, and after a struggle she was sitting down, I kissing her, one arm round her waist, one hand between her thighs, close up to

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       her cunt. Then I told her I wanted to fuck her, said all in favour of it

       I knew, half ashamed, half frightened as I said it. She said she did not know what I meant, resisted less and less as I tried to pull her back on the sofa, when another ring came: it was the milkman.

       I was obliged to let her go, and she ran down stairs with the milk. I followed, she went out, and slammed the door which led to the garden, in my face; for the instant, I thought she was going to the privy, but opened and followed on; she ran up the steps, into the garden, through the garden parlor, and upstairs to her bedroom just opposite to mine, closed and locked the door in my face, I begged her to let me in.

       She said she would not come out, till she heard the knocker or bell

       ring; there was no one called usually after the milkman, so my game was up, but nothing makes man or woman so crafty as lust. In half an hour or so, in anger, I said I should go to my aunt's, went downstairs, moved noisily about, opened and slammed the street-door violently, as if I had

       gone out, then pulled off my boots, and crept quietly up to my bedroom.

       There I sat expectantly a long time, had almost given up hope, began to think about consequences if she told my mother, when I heard the door softly open and she came to the edge of the stairs. "Wattie!" she said loudly, "Wattie!" much louder, "he has," said she in a subdued tone to herself, as much as to say that worry is over. I opened my door, she

       gave a loud shriek and retreated to her room, I close to her; in a few minutes more, hugging, kissing, begging, threatening, I know not how; she was partly on the bed, her clothes up in a heap, I on her with my prick in my hand, I saw the hair, I felt the slit, and not knowing then

       where the hole was or much about it, excepting that it was between her

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       legs, shoved my prick there with all my might. "Oh! you hurt, I shall be ill," said she, "pray don't." Had she said she was dying, I should not have stopped. The next instant a delirium of my senses came, my prick throbbing and as if hot lead was jetting from it, at each throb;

       pleasure mingled with light pain in it, and my whole frame quivering with emotion; my sperm left me for a virgin cunt, but fell outside it, though on to it.

       How long I was quiet I don't know; probably but a short time; for a first pleasure does not tranquillize at that age; I became conscious that she was pushing me off of her, and rose up, she with me, to a half-sitting posture; she began to laugh, then to cry, and fell back in hysterics, as I had seen her before.

       I had seen my mother attend to her in those fits, but little did I then

       know, that sexual excitement causes them in women, and that probably in her I had been the cause. I got brandy and water, and made her drink a lot, helping myself at the same time, for I was frightened, and made her lay on the bed. Then ill as she was, frightened as I was, I yet took

       the opportunity her partial insensibility gave me, lifted her clothes quietly, and saw her cunt and spunk on it. Roused by that, she pushed her clothes half down feebly and got to the side of the bed. I loving, begging pardon, kissing her, told her of my pleasure, and asked about hers, all in snatches, for I thought I had done her. Not a word could I get, but she looked me in the face beseechingly, begging me to go. I had no such intention, my prick was again stiffened, I pulled it out, the

       sight of her cunt had stimulated me, she looked with languid eyes at me,

       her cap was off, her hair hanging about her head, her dress torn near

       her breast.

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       More so than she had ever looked, was she beautiful to me, success

       made me bold, on I went insisting, she seemed too weak to withstand me.

       "Don't, oh pray, don't," was all she said as pushing her well on the

       bed, I threw myself on her, and again put my doodle on to the slit now wet with my sperm. I was though cooler, stiff as a poker, but my sperm was not so ready to flow, as it was in after days, at a second poke, for

       I was very young; but nature did all for me; my prick went to the proper

       channel, there stopped by something it battered furiously. "Oh, you

       hurt, oh!" she cried aloud. The next instant something seemed to tighten round its knob, another furious thrust,--another,--a sharp cry of pain (resistance was gone), and my prick was buried up her, I felt that it

       was done, and that before I had spent outside of her. I looked at her,

       she was quiet, her cunt seemed to close on my prick, I put my hand down, and felt round. What rapture to find my machine buried; nothing but the balls to be touched, and her cunt hair wetted with my sperm, mingling

       and clinging to mine; in another minute nature urged a crisis, and I

       spent in a virgin cunt, my prick virgin also. Thus ended my first fuck.

       My prick was still up her, when we heard a loud knock; both started up in terror, I was speechless. "My God; it is your mamma!" Another loud knock. What a relief, it was the postman. To rush downstairs, and open the door was the work of a minute. "I thought you were all out," said he angrily, "I have knocked three times." "We were in the garden," said I. He looked queerly at me and said, "With your boots off !" and grinning went away. I went up again, found her sitting on the side of the bed,

       and there we sat together. I told her what the postman had said, she was sure he would tell her mistress. For a short time, there never was

       a couple who had just fucked, in more of a foolish funk than we were;

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       I have often thought of our not hearing the thundering knocks of a postman, whilst we were fucking, though the bedroom door was wide open; what engrossing work it is so to deafen people. Then after unsuccessfully struggling to see her cunt, and kissing, and feeling each others' genitals, and talking of our doings and our sensations for an hour, we fucked again.

       It was getting dark, which brought us to reason, we both helped to remake the bed, went downstairs, shut the shutters, lighted the fire which was out, and got lights. I then having nothing to do, began thinking of my doodle which was sticking to my shirt, and pulling it

       out to see its condition, found my shirt covered with sperm smears, and spots of blood, my prick was dreadfully sore. I said to her that she had been bleeding, she begged me to go out of the kitchen for a minute, I did, and almost directly she came out, and passed me saying, she must

       change her things before the cook came home. She would not let me stay in the room whilst she did it, nor did I see her chemise, though I had followed her upstairs; then СКАЧАТЬ