My Secret Life, Volumes I. to III. - The Original Classic Edition. Anonymous Anonymous
annoyed her, she
would go abroad. Her husband made the mother a sort of promise to keep steady for three months, but failed in doing so, went to America, had
never ceased to write affectionate letters which came to her through
her mother, and had recently written to say he had made a large sum of money, and was coming home. He had sent money home to the mother with instructions to settle it on Mary how she liked, provided she would
come back to him. Afterwards she showed me his letters; they were well written, and in a style above a man of his position in life.
She had lived in service ever since; with us she had then been a year and a half, and had had but two other places. One she left because
a grown up son began to pay her too much attention. At the other the master--a married man--made love to her, and one day tried to force her. I know the last place, it was about three miles from us.
This news came like a cold bath on me. It suited my taste to have a woman in the house. The idea of losing her was terrible. She refused me my pleasures. I doubted her truth at times, but whenever I did, she would fetch a letter as proof saying, "Now will you believe me?" She
refused to say where her home had been, and what her real name was. I
used to try to make out the postmark on her letters, but could not. They
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were negligent in those days in such matters, and postage was dear.
And now I again asked if she had had any other but her husband and me; by all that was holy she declared she had not. "How came you to let me?" "God in heaven knows!" said she, "months ago if anyone had said such a thing was possible, I should have said it was ridiculous; I only thought
of you as a tall boy, but that day I felt that my life was passing away without the pleasures of a woman; what you did kneeling down in the kitchen upset me, then I let you; though I thought I should ruin myself by doing so."
She cared but little for her husband, for he had caused her to lead the life of a widow for years. "Suppose I had done anything wrong," said she, "and he had found it out, he would have cast me away; but you men
can do what you like, and we poor women have to submit." "But why go back?" "Four months ago I would not have done so, but you have made me find out I am a woman after all; you will understand that better as you
grow older. Not many would have kept chaste as I have done until that night. Now I mistrust myself. I am getting fond of you, but what could come of it? And if anything came to the ears of my mother and friends, who are respectable, I should drown myself. I have got plenty of will of my own, although I am quiet."
"You don't care much about poking?"
"I have had my wants, but suppressed them," she replied. "What did you do?" "Oh!" said she in an off hand way, "what other unmarried women do, I suppose." "Frigged yourself." She gave a nod and said, "And not often that." I thought of what Charlotte had told me, but held my tongue.
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I tried to get at her at intervals, but it was no use. "It's caprice,"
said I with my prick out, "you let me when I wanted it three weeks ago, why not now?" "I can't,--I dare not,--it might be certain ruin now." "What does a fellow care about ruin, when his hand is outside a cunt, and his prick is like an iron rod?" Twice as strong as me, she could
at all times have escaped me, unless sexual desire was strong on her;
desire gives a man force, but it takes away a woman's force. She rose
up, nor would she continue talking, until I had buttoned up my prick and promised not to touch her; that done, she said, "Would you wish to ruin me? You might if I let you, I have been very ill as you know, was in the
family way, my monthlies stopped, and I have brought them on. When I was in trouble that way, I let you do what you like, now I am going home,
what would become of me if I were in the family way then?" This explained
all.
I had never given her a present, I never gave Charlotte one; having then so little money. I never thought about it. I had now more, and offered
to give her some if she wanted any. She showed me a saving-bank's book.
She had got nearly fifty pounds. I bought a pair of gold earrings for
her, it was the first present I had even given a woman, and she was much
pleased. I had I think some vague notion, that it would induce her to let me have her; but if so, I was deceived.
Mother seemed to be keeping at home to baulk me. My chemicals had been taken back into the garden parlour. I knew she wanted to go to my aunt's; but one morning it was too hot, then it rained, and so on. How I restrained myself from frigging I don't know, for I used to walk up and down my bedroom with my prick out stiff, and looking at it; at length a
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chance came--my last.
Mother went to aunt's, the ugly housemaid said, "As Master Tom wont be
at home, do you mind my going out for a couple of hours?" "No," said my mother, "when the cook is ready." "Please will you tell the cook Mamm," said she, "or she wont let me go." I had then a tutor in mathematics who came on that day, but promised to fetch mother home. I had many times broken my promises to do so, to enable me to get at Mary. Mother said,
"I hope you mean what you say, you are getting a man, and should never break your word." Anxious to know when the housemaid would go; I asked her. "I am not going till five o'clock, sir," said she, "unless you
particularly want the books," "That will be too late, for I am to fetch mamma home,--never mind."
I finished with my tutor, and out I went. But at about five o'clock came home near to the house, wondering if the housemaid had gone, (Mary I had not spoken a word to), waited in sight of the house, and at last saw
a form I guessed to be the housemaid's, going off fast towards the village; five minutes afterwards I knocked, and Mary opened the door. Said she, "What brings you home?" I said I was unwell, had a bad cold, could not go for my mother, would go to bed, would she fetch me a footbath, and went to my bedroom. I had been two days planning the thing, an old dodge it was though.
It was hot and quite light, but I drew down the blinds, undressed and
put on my nightgown; she brought the bath, we talked. She had not heard from her mother again, it was strange,--was she being played with? It
took weeks then to get to America. I kissed and got closer to her, we
were on the edge of the bed; I spoke of our meetings and our pleasures,
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she avoided the subject, said I should take cold, prayed me to have
the footbath and go to bed. Gradually I got my hand on her thighs, how could she help it?--a woman who had been fucked by me a lot of times. But she was firm in refusing me. I lifted my nightshirt, my prick stood up, the shirt hanging at the back of it like clothes on the hook of a
prop,. Finding that useless, I threatened to frig myself and began the operation. She said I ought to be ashamed of myself, that she would leave if I did not desist, and turned to go, when I pulled her on to the bed. Soon my fingers were on her slit, her fingers on my prick. "I dare not let you,--oh! pray!" she said, but she was vanquished, silent, and tranquilly laid down on the bed; nature was too strong for her.
I lifted her chemise, had a glimpse of the lovely plump calves, and large, fleshy thighs, as I threw myself impetuously upon her. My belly closed with hers, and pushing my knuckles through the hairs, I guided my prick towards her cunt, but alas! too late. The long abstinence and
the excitement were too much for me; just as my fingers opened the cunt-lips, and my prick touched her cunt, throb--throb--gush--gush, and over my fingers, over her thighs, into the thicket of hair, on to the
clitoris, on to the smooth, round bum-cheeks below--anywhere--everywhere