Vulgar words in My Secret Life, Volumes I. to III. - 1888 Edition (Page 10)
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Shirt, and chemise, spunk and blood slobbered lay there.
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I was rested, she was fresh, and I sat at breakfast with as much complacency and jollity as a man could; yet beyond fucking, I felt that I did not care one damn about her, and even felt sorry.
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We had seven days before Camille would return, in those days I more than fulfilled my word to the girl, bought dresses, a ring, brooch, umbrella, parasol, in fact I don't know what I did not give, and must have paid fifty pounds; we dined out, went to theatres, ate, drank, and fucked like blazes.
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It was a small cunt for so fine a woman.
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I looked, fingered, titillated, kissed it, out went my tongue; it played lightly over the clitoris, then baudy frenzy seized me, and I licked and sucked her cunt.
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I had never done it willingly but to Martha, now the letch seized me furiously, every day afterwards I had my mouth to her, and when I was so fucked out, that I could come no more, would lay and lick her till she was worn out too with spending.
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We had indeed no other amusement than fucking, talking about it, eating, drinking, and sleeping, which was to us all the charm of a honey-moon.
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We used to lay on the bed with my head between her thighs, licking her quim, she playing with my prick, but I never put my pego into her mouth, nor did she ever do more than kiss it.
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On the day but one before Camille returned, we went to bed, had a fuck, then a second, her cunt felt funny, and I found her courses had come on, or as she called them, her periods.
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Not having left her day or night, nor been to my lodgings, nor to my mother's, I was fucked out, and so was she,--so that her reds came on most opportunely.
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I took away my trunk and clothes, went to my virtuous lodgings; it was a relief to be away from cunt for twenty-four hours, and I could not bear a woman with her courses on.
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I saw the large thigh nearly up to her quim, my hand involuntarily slipped higher, and began smoothing the flesh just above the garter.
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I thought of Louise, of my promise; I knew the look of both their cunts,--of Camille's the best,--desired to see, to compare it.
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I had been feeling Louise's cunt eight days, now thought I should like to feel Camille's to feel the difference, I knew her cunt was looser, and more hairy, her bum and thighs bigger, yet was I right in my comparison?
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My fingers touched the slippery cunt, it was irresistible, the next instant they were groping and feeling.
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Then I sat by her hips, on the sofa-edge, she lifted her clothes right up: there was the quim, the jet-black bush, the fine round thighs, my cock was restive, my hands wandering, she unbuttoned my trowsers, gave my prick a squeeze, sending up the blood and completed my randiness.
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Forgetting Louise, my mind fell into its baudy dreams, I fucked her again, and then she let me get up.
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I was not pleased with her: a fine girl, a fine fuck, a fresh woman who shivered with delight the instant the prick entered her, who was randy-arsed enough to learn anything in the way of copulation; she had been delightful to me eight days, and might for more; but she was coarse, vulgar, and had not two ideas in her head, was evidently violent tempered, and excessively vain.
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I could not make up my mind, and resolved never to go near her again; but two days afterwards, that funny sense of fullness came over my cock-knob, then the tingling, then the desire for cunt, then for Louise's cunt, the ragged slit made by my cock was before my eyes, and instead of quenching my wants in the channel of some other woman, I went there.
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She kissed and hugged me in the passage, a minute afterwards she was on my knee grasping my prick, my fingers were on her cunt, our lips together; in another with tongues lapping together I was up her; in two or three minutes more we were quiet.
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(I should so like to experience the feeling a woman has as she sits and talks with her cunt full of sperm, does it feel so very pleasant sitting so?)
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"So you have been to a baudy house?" said she, "so you have been fucked, fucked by my friend; you are a nice one to speak ill of other people."
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"I am not a whore," said Louise taking cheek.
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"Say I am a whore, and I'll hit you," said Louise going up to her.
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I like fucking you better than your sister after all," or something to that effect.
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"What?" said she with a start as her cunt clipped, and jerked my prick out.
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Then the matter dropped, and she slopped her cunt clean.
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I used to like a woman whom I knew not to wash it, when I was going to fuck her again, Camille had humored me in this, and as my lust came on for my second poke, used to bring my amatory pastime by looking at the cunt with my pleasure signs on it.
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We had more fucking before we left.
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I told Fred, that I had had Louise's first, to which he replied, that he should like to rattle his stones against her arse.
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"Is she a good fuck?
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I did not mean his stones to knock against her arse as long as mine did, I replied, "Oh!
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"Lord, what does it matter?" said he, "white women are scarce in India, there was one that all in my regiment were fond of, there was not an officer who did not stroke her, none of us minded; we say 'the more a cunt's buttered, the better it grinds.'"
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I was sure that Camille went to the shop daily, or nearly so, and as no man came to the house, suppose she got her cunt plugged in the shop parlour.
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"Then you are a fool, you can't be sure of one woman's cunt if you are not with her always, but two together are sure to make a couple of whores,--no wonder your tin goes so fast."
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One night three of us went to a cigar-shop kept by two women just by ------ it was not an unusual thing then for two to have a cigar-shop, with a big sofa in a back parlour, one keeping shop whilst the other fucked.
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It was agreed, we tossed up for the order of the fucking, two went outside while the other had his pleasure.
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My cousin was pronounced the best fucker.
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I was so impatient, that I pushed her to the side of the bed directly I was in the room, felt for her cunt, and spent in her in a minute, she had not taken her bonnet off.
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Again I fucked her; and next morning my ailment came back.
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Up to the time of getting my fortune want of money curbed my lascivious tastes, and although I had servant after servant in my mother's house, the difficulties of getting them, gave me frequent rests, and prevented me generally from exhausting myself; perhaps I got just enough fucking to keep me in health.
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My clap brought on a stricture, obliging me to have a bougie passed every other day to stretch the pipe often, and causing me to piss clots of gruelly blood, about an hour afterwards.
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I dared not fuck, but once frigged, and it brought on the inflammatory stage again.
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I used to look at my female cousins, and long for them; my aunt whose flabby, brown-haired, thick-lipped furrow I glanced at in my boyhood I used to think about and should not have hesitated in getting a pleasure up it, had no other cunt been ready for me.
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I eyed the farm-women (coarse, strong, healthy bitches) with lust that made them look beauties in my longing eyes, I was boiling over with spunk, at the closet one day my turds were hard, and hurt me; the irritation affected my ballocks, my prick stiffened rigidly, I could not piss for it, the tip looked dry, as if gleet had ceased, I merely touched the top (not frigged), and out shot my sperm as I sat on the privy seat.
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but what a loss of pleasure not to have injected into some dear little cunt nicked in some smooth white bum!
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My prick seemed quite well, and I wanted to go into the fields to get hold of some girl doing field-work, or any woman, old or young, who had a cunt available; so I went to town to see my medical man about it.
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Thinking all safe, I one day poked her near to her notch, and she only saying, "Adun now sir, do," my hand went up her petticoats, I struggled with her, and we both fell on the grass near a barn, when my fingers touched her cunt.
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When older, I only thought of her when there, or when my memory ran back on the quims I had touched in my then short career.
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Among them was Pender, still so named, she having then been married about a year to a man bearing her own maiden name, and was then about twenty-three years old; a tall, strapping woman, with a bum as big as a washing-tub; brown she was from working in the sun, but fucking regularly as I supposed had cleared her complexion, she was a good, comely country-woman.
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She turned, and coming slowly back stood still a moment, then comfortably squatted, and pissed.
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As she finished she gave her clothes that usual hitch against her cunt, looked up, and saw me, turned round quickly, went away from the yard, and then as if she had forgotten, turned round with her head hanging down, and came through the rick-yard.
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now for God's sake if my husband caught us there would be murder," but I was burning with want, it was more than two months since I had clutched a woman's backside, and spent up a cunt.
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I stood by the cows, pulled my prick out, begged her to let me do it again, talked all the baudiness I could, reminded her of when first I wetted my fingers in her red-stained cunt, lifted up the cow's tail, swore if she did not let me I would put my prick up the cow.
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It was funny to see a woman whose cunt was full of sperm pulling vigorously at a cow's teats, whilst a man with his prick exposed was holding up a cow's tail showing its cacked arse, and not too clean cunt.
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I pushed her down on to it, the next instant I was fucking her, and what a fuck!
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It was two months since I had had a woman; here was a stout, fat-arsed, hard-fleshed, healthy country woman; rough, dirty with work, but whose thighs were white, and whose cunt was a clipper, who was randy, had every capability of giving a man delight.
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No highly fed woman clad in silks and satins, could have ministered to me as she did, as replying to my thrusts her cunt sucked my prick up her, and we spent together.
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The idea of her cunt squeezing out its moisture on to her chemise as she sat on the stool, the desire to see every part of her, that irresistible want to see all, feel all, and satisfy every sense which springs up in the mind of a man when a woman has satisfied his voluptuousness for the first time overcame me.
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"You have washed your cunt," said I.
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I had a grope, tickled her clitoris, got my mouth on to her belly, my lips outside her cunt, we fucked, and again she went to her cow's teats.
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It was pleasant to have a fuck on the sly, with a woman who showed real pleasure, who shivered with delight, and grasped me like a vice.
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I felt sure that, at the feel of her quim I should be all right.
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"If I can once get it up her, once feel her cunt-lips closing round it, get a good clip round her buttocks, I am sure I can fuck her again before they come back from the hay-field," thought I gently frigging my cock, and looking through a crack in the door.
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I had a look at a thick brown-haired motte, a belly, and a pair of white round thighs a duchess might have been proud of, I kissed her cunt, and fumbling about from her navel to her arse-hole, fucking her with a long lingering fuck which left us both silent, and enervated.
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She sat down to milking with her cunt full of me.
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Pender was in the dairy, resistance was vain, and with her back up against the dairy wall we fucked.
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Thither we went, and for the first time quietly, so to speak, I saw the article, and all its surroundings, which had given me several pleasures; and after fucking her I went to join my aunt, as I had promised her.
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At one end were the two cottages in which I had fucked the two sisters years before; lower down past the farm-gates, were one or two other cottages in which lived farm-labourers, and in one of them the Pender's.
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I knew where Pender lived, and by cunt attraction strolled in front of the cottage, though fearing to be seen.
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I led her along by a ditch to a turn in the hedge; she made no resistance, in a minute we were buried in deep grass, my doodle buried in her cunt, we had spoken in whispers, all was silent excepting the insects which chirped in the hot summer's night.
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How delightful these chance pokes are; there was my prick which had not been washed since it had left Pender's cunt, now wetting to its roots in the cunt of an unknown woman,--and I'd only just recovered from a clap.
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My prick did not uncunt, but I moved my arse outwards, when with tightening grasps, a heave up, and a tightening of her cunt, she whispered, "Go on doing it" I could see the white teeth, but indistinctly, there was just sufficient light to see outlines, and anything white, but no colour.
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And with her cunt reeking, off she went.
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I was longing for the woman, but scarcely thought I could do it after my day's fucking.
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The idea of putting my prick still wet with Whiteteeth's juices, into Pender's quim, stimulated me; my cock stood (in those days if it stood it was sure of doing duty).
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I closed up to her whispering love, and frigging her, she gradually getting besides herself with pleasure.
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A large octagonal house covered with ivy, with a door and two glass windows, a house devoted to shitting, but large enough to hold a dozen people.
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