The Sex Diary of a
Vol. 11 Chapter I
Edith the frisky. • My bedroom. • Exhibition of a stiff prick. • Exhibition of a bleeding cunt. • My regrets. • Next day's amusements. • A week's work. • Departure. • Edith's grief. • Her history partly.
Edith was a complete puzzle to me. Does she fuck or frig herself, or play with women's cunts, has she any cuntal defect? She looks sensuous from eyes to mouth, she'll talk on sexual subjects freely but in a modest sort of way, yet won't let me feel her. Is she gamahuched by women? She'd looked long at the last photo. These thoughts passed thro my mind and that she had Sapphic tastes was my conclusion. Dressing for dinner, I determined on a bold attempt. Our seats were side by side, and when dinner was nearly over, I did what I've done, to half a dozen women, put my hand under the table cloth — which happened to be just long enough to cover it — and pressed her clothes against her belly as near her cunt as I could. She looked at me hard, and just then a gentleman on the other side of her spoke — she replied, and then quietly put her hand down and pushed mine away, without uttering a word, but looking at me intently.
After dinner we sat awhile in the reading room. She made no allusion to what I'd done. "I must go to Mamma. — Lend me them." — I refused tho she begged hard, and at length she agreed to come to my room, after my refusing most positively. "I'll sit with Mamma a quarter of an hour first." — I got champagne in my room, and in twenty minutes, she was with me. She'd told Mamma she was going to the reading room to chat with some ladies. Then she smiled, looking full in my eyes. I seized and kissed her rapturously praising her beauty, and she permitted it. I scarcely expected her, and had resolved if she came to use no more hints and delicate phrases, but to speak baudily to the utmost of my wants, and of the pleasures of fucking; to get that pleasure if nothing further. It de-lights me to say the baudiest to a modest ond quasi-modest woman. They all like it tho some profess to be shocked.
On a little sofa by the table we sat side by side. She took champagne, tho she rarely drank wine, and I showed the first photo. — "I won't show you any more unless you let me explain." — "I don't want it." — "But I will." — "No." — "He's ready to fuck her, isn't his prick stiff? How I envy them — let us do what they are going to do." She made no reply. — "Have you ever been licked so?" said I showing the next. — "Of course not." — But she looked confused, there was something in her manner what made me fancy that that was her letch. I went on exhibiting and commenting and explaining in the baudiest words, whilst she kept silence. At length she began to drink champagne as if not conscious of what she was doing, got excited and began to laugh and question. — "Mind, I'm your father" and I kissed her and she kissed me. — "A pretty sort of parent." — "A pretty daughter." — "Look at papa's prick," — said I unable to restrain myself any longer, and pulled it out. "Feel it." — "I'm going to Mamma." — "Feel it." — "I must go to Mamma." She tried to rise, I stooped, fearing to miss my opportunity, and got my hand up her clothes to her motte. "Oh! my God! — leave off," — she squealed out, and our joint movements turned over the slight table with the champagne, the glasses, and photos, on to the floor. I held her tightly, insinuating my fingers between her thighs and begging her to be quiet. "They'll hear in the next room." — She struggled silently. — "Oh, you hurt." — I'd got a finger on to her clitoris.
"You wretch to do that, I wouldn't have believed it." — "I'm madly in love with you. — Look." — Out came my pego. She looked me full in the face as I rose and flourished my erection. Again she rose to go as I showed it. I pushed her down and sat by her side, hugging her, begging, praying, endearing. — "What nonsense, dear." All was now confusion. — "I won't let you out," — and going to the door took the key out. "It's a shame to behave so." — "My love, no one will know but you and I, let- me." — She shook her head. — "Well let me gamahuche you." "What's that?" — said she quickly. — "You know, lick your cunt to give you pleasure, make you spend with my tongue as women do to you." — "They don't, it's a story," said she fiercely. — "Hish dear, be quiet."
Swearing my love, holding her round the waist to me, kissing her and she once or twice kissing me, she pacified, tho still so excited as I'd never before seen her. She helped me to pick up the things, my tumbler and broken glass, wiped some wetted photos, looking at each carefully as she did so without remark; ever and anon staring at me for an instant. What was passing thro her mind? — Again I hugged and kissed. "Why don't you kiss me Edith?" — "There then." The table d'hote was early for theatre goers and it was light all this time, but dusk now was coming on. One glass remained in the bottle spite of its tumble. I poured it out into the glass and she drank if off at once. "Have more wine?" — "I don't care," — she replied in a reckless tone. — "Get behind the bed whilst it comes." She did, and I took in the wine without her being seen. Then sitting on the sofa she again looked at the photos rapidly, one after the other. I now pulled down the blind and lighted one candle on the mantel shelf (a feeble light). Again she gulped down champagne, but there was not the slightest signs of her being elevated by it, and we talked whilst still she looked at the photos, and listened to my plain remarks about them. Was she lewed, and controlling her sexual wants?
"Are you going to wait till you're married before you are fucked, dear?" — Nothing now seemed to upset her and she began answering. "I never shall be married," laughing cynically. — "Do it without then. — Now don't be foolish, let me feel you." — "I won't." Is she going to yield? passed through my mind as I put my hand down. She barely resisted, but crossed her legs just as my fingers touched the thicket. — "Now don't." — I couldn't get my fingers to her clitoris, her thighs prevented it, but roved my hand over thighs and bum, and up to her navel, feeling ivory smoothness, ex-tolling its beauty, praying her to let me feel the slit. — "No — no — no," — was all she said, as she gently squirmed about on the sofa resisting me. Puffing her closer to me — kissing her cheek incessantly, or her lips when half turned at times to me,-she was quiet and seemed reflecting. — "Open your thighs — do, love." — "I won't." — "Feel my prick — do." — "I won't. — Ceasing to feel her, I pulled it out again and still holding her tightly, placed her hand around it. — "Feel it, Edith dear," and for a minute only she did. I had withdrawn my hand from hend thighs to do that, and now had to get it back. She didn't hinder me, her thighs were no longer crossed, my fin-gers went between the soft lips of the warm nick, settled on her clitoris and there frigged gently. — "Oho — take your hand away." Again she crossed her thighs imprisoning my fingers, and stopping the luscious titillation. She'd felt the pleasure, and knew she was drifting towards-the irrevocable, was struggling with her sexual desires.
"Let me dear — do." — "Oh you hurt me." — "Now I don't, and won't — I swear I won't." — I fidgeted my hand, her thighs opened slightly, my finger recommenced its gentle movement on the bud of love, on the soft pulpy mass of clitoris and nymphae — which seemed large and full — till again she sighed. "Aherr — oho — don't," and her face turned to mine. I put my lips to hers, put again my prick in her hand, and again got my other hand up her clothes on to her cunt and frigged away. — "Oho — ah — don't." — "Feel it — frig me, love — let me spend in your hand." — "Aha," — she sighed. "Let me fuck you dear, I'm dying for you." —She sighed, she was about to spend, her thighs quivered, when with a sudden effort she got up, let go my prick and dislodged my fingers from their warm place. "I must go to Mamma," she said loudly, almost violently. "You shan't." — "I must." — She moved towards the door, when catching her round the waist with rapid effort, I pushed her against the bed, lifted her upon it, and threw myself beside her, talking voluptuously, swearing I'd have her, She, now inert, didn't resist. "Let me go for God's sake," — was all she said. "Hish dear, they'll hear you." — Again I was frigging her and had placed her hand on my prick, when she gave a strange half cry, half hysterical laugh, she had passed the rubicon, meant fucking. Who could wonder at it after all she'd seen, heard, and done on that day — and all she knew?
No more was said. Lust at times works craftily and slowly. I'd fears that a sudden shock might spoil my chance, but caution now left me, all was a chaos of loving baudy words and deeds, the sighs of a woman with a sweating cunt, and wanting fucking, her fearing it, of a man reckless with desire and a turgid prick. My kisses grew more rapturous, attempts more bold, her resistance less and less. "Don't — aha — don't — you'll ruin me. — Don't now," — she sighed as lustful pleasure enervated her, and my fingers moved quickly over clitoris and nymphae. With a sigh her thighs then opened, resistance ceased. The moment had come, I felt my power — how the male instinct tells! — With-drawing my hand from the lovely aperture, tearing open my trowsers, pushing them down, pulling up my shirt, freeing my prick and balls, rapidly I turned my belly on to hers, grasping a haunch with one hand, pointing my prick with the other. — "Let's fuck, darling." Then my wet lips met hers, closing her mouth. "Don't — no — for God's sake don't," she murmured inarticulately as my tongue forced itself between her lips, that lovely moist embrace of mouth and mouth. "Oh — pray." — Then all words ceased.
Not a movement of legs, arms or buttocks hindered me as our bellies met, and my thighs slid down between hers widening them apart, opening the road to the earthly paradise of humanity, she palpitating, with cunt yearning for a prick, subdued, utterly silent till she felt my fingers opening the way for my entry. "Ho — ho," she cried sharply as roughly in my impatience I lodged my prick and gave its first pressure at the gate of love.
Then thrusting, — "Ho — you hurt," she gasped. I had not entered, a barrier stopped my prick. I felt rapidly round it, was it the wrong path? — No, the tip was in its proper place. Again I thrust. — "Ohoo." — She's virgin, flashed thro my mind — thrust — thrust. "Ho — ho" — thrust, thrust, thrust — I gave rapidly and violently with cunt splitting force. "Ohoo," she moaned, as my prick with a plunge filled her cunt, and my balls dangled against her ivory buttocks. A virgin again, by Jove! ! ! And for an instant I rested.
Then as the joyous fact entered my mind, wild with delight I could not rest an instant in my victory, my prick ready to spend for the last hour, plunged up and down her luscious cunt. — She'll bleed — oh joy, that blood — and as that crossed my mind my sperm seethed up, my prick felt bursting. — "Fuck — spunk — spend darling, spend," — I sighed, and the essence of life spurted out, stopping all utterances in the ineffable pleasure of the jetting, and my prick lay weltering in an emollient bath, was bathing in her sperm flooded cunt, to which she'd added naught but that soft moisture which the voluptuous wants and urgings of her nature had issued before our bodies were one, before my prick had touched the entrance to her shrine. — Pain had stopped her pleasure, barred her spend, ready as the flood gate of her temple had been to open. I'd fucked too quickly, so she'd missed the delirious pleasure, the glorious reward of her cuntal pain, of the sacrifice of her virginity.
I was so astonished at the unexpected virginity, that for a minute or two I didn't speak. She lay inert with clothes up to her navel, thighs apart, silent, motionless, excepting that she put one arm across her eyes. Blood was on my prick, and signs of blood on one of her thighs, I put my hand broadly over her vulva, and with-drew it with more sanguinary evidences of virginity that I've usually found. "Get up — wash dear, you are bleeding," twice I said before she moved. "I don't care," at length she murmured in a reckless tone, but got up, sat down on the sofa by the small table, and buried her head in her hands.
Then came over me a feeling of regret, a feeling similar to that which I had when I fucked my married cousin Hannah — that I'd injured her — and felt deeply sorry. But the thing was done, and after all she was as much to blame as me. What other woman in such social position, had ever entered into such relations with a man as she had? — Must she not have expected to be tailed? — These thoughts comforted me.
She sat so, without moving or replying for some minutes. "Your chemise will be - stained." — "I don't care." — Then she lifted her head, looked at me earnestly and said, "I'm ruined," then washed her cunt. — I put a towel between her thighs and sat down by her side again, saying that her "ruin" was nonsense, saying what I have to other virgins to comfort them, and absurd as it seems had comforted them. But this liaison was a peculiar one. — Never had I fucked a lady virgin before, and old enough to be her father, and knowing that the consequences might be more serious to her than to women of a commoner sort, again I felt very very sorry. Three fourths of the servant class and the class below them, have been fucked well before they marry, and yet the couples are content. The lower class's know well that a cunt improves in giving pleasure by practice.
"I must go to Mamma," — said she after listening long, and almost without reply. That turned the curent of my thoughts. She hadn't spent. What if she re-fused to let me fuck her again, repented and avoided me. "You mustn't yet." "I must, she'll wonder where I am." — "We haven't been an hour and a half to-gether, I want to fuck you again." — She wouldn't — insisted on going. I caught her round the waist, kissed her and she kissed me. "Will you swear you'll come back?" — "Yes — yes, if I can, but I must go to Mamma." — She was so excited and resolute that I let her go.
Wondering if she'd keep her word, I put my room to rights, picked up some fragments of broken glass, let the chambermaid empty the slops. All was done in ten minutes. Then I lighted another candle, and sat down marvelling at the virginity I had found in a manner as unexpected as that of Phoebe's not six months ago, yet such was my luck. During forty years I had never had such two extraordinary chances, and both now came within a short period of each other.
In about twenty minutes in came Edith. "You've kept your word dear." — Then side by side we sat, and first- she told me how she had humbugged her mother, but she must go back to her in an hour. Then all was talk of fucking, the photos were seen again, besides a dozen others which I'd reserved. With what sensuous delight she listened whilst I described them in baudiest language. It delighted me to say the words to a lady. Soon after in silence we were sitting, kissing, billing and cooing, she looking at times at my prick, I at her thighs, then feeling her still bleeding cunt, she handling my procreator from tip to tecticles. What a delicious treat for us both, what voluptuous novelty to her. — Soon uprose my love staff — her bum moved with the sensuous-pleasure which my finger generated on her clitoris, and gently I led her willing, ready, dying to be fucked, to the bed.
There she was plastic, silently submitted to be felt and seen — subdued by lust. Never did I enjoy a second fuck more. Not too full or too randy now, I kept my pego quiet up her for a time before I thrust, and we talked in this holy conjunction,- she only too pleased to converse. Did it hurt her now — how hurt her before — was it. really pain to her? Was the sensation of my quiescent prick nice? and so on. All was about our genitals, and the pleasure they gave mutually to their owners, in the maddening yet soothing delight of fucking. Then thrusting and kissing her I felt her cunt stiffen round my prick — an exceeding tightness to it. — I knew what that meant, and in a few rapid, long thrusts, lungers — hitting the profundity of her sex then nest-ling it in its depths — with a long sigh of pleasure the tightness of her cunt ceased, a soft, lubricious, creeping feeling took its place. Edith had had her first spend with a prick, ere a throb of pleasure was felt by me. Resting, I looked at her as with eyes closed and palpitating bosom, she lay voluptuously tranquil in dreamy pleasure. Out I pulled my prick from her lubricious sheath, rested, talked lewedly, reinserted it, and fucked till she and I both spent together. Then off she went to her mother, not waiting to purify her. cunt. I went to bed. A luscious evening — never one more luscious — was over.
Next day as arranged we scarcely spoke in the dining room. After midday meal we talked in the reading room. — Not a blush — not a sign of modesty or regret had she, but quite cool, was ready to come to my room whenever I named a time. — A most extraordinary creature. — She'd tell her Mamma that she'd walk out with some ladies, actually did so, left them, and found her way back to me. "Let's go into bed to-gether." — "I'm frightened." — "Both naked gives the height of pleasure." — "I'm frightened." Yet she'd risked being seen entering my room. I partially un-dressed her. With the coquetry of a woman, she'd the loveliest silk stockings and boots on, making her legs look exquisite. With what delight I twiddled her cunt as we sat on the little sofa, where I had just a glimpse of garters, and naked thighs, and she bending her head, could see the florid knob of my piercer which she held in her hand. — "Let me frig you." She laid her head on my shoulder, opened her thighs wider, and enjoyed it whilst still holding my pego, and silently-thinking. It was an intense delight to me, excelling in its re-fined sensuality the erotic games with the finest har-lots.
Our passions fully roused by the delicate twiddlings and lascivious talk — she listened but never replied baudily, — "Come to the bed love." She rose at once with me, I laid her on the bedside, lifted her petticoats, saw all her charms, kissed belly and thighs and motte, just gave the clitoris one little tickle with my tongue, then lunged my prick up and stood asking her how she liked it. A cuntal grip replied, and lifting her thighs over my arms, we fucked with fullest lust and love. My spunk jetted forth as hers was shed to mix with it, and with kisses, and soft dreaming murmurs we stayed in voluptuous silence coupled.
Recovered from our Elysium, still holding her body to mine by her thighs, genitals still joined. "Can you feel my prick in your cunt still?" — "Yes." — And thus we talked, till my scrotum stuck to her lovely buttocks with the mucilaginous overflow from her cunt. Then separating we washed, and at length she consented to my seeing quietly and fully all her secret charms, which in my excitement, in my hurry to enjoy, I'd only momentarily glanced at. First I looked at the seat of the hymen about which recent rupture there could be no doubt, evidences of her virginity were wonderfully evident, and it was sore still she said. How thick the broken membrance seemed to me. That might have been fancy, yet certainly I'd never had a tougher one to get through.
"Show me the photos again." — I did, we looked over and talked about them. — Never have I seen a woman so eager to see baudy pictures, she feasted on them, looked through them again and again. Then she felt my prick and as she did so, I felt her cunt. The soothing influence of my fingers was felt, voluptuous sensations crept through her. Then she sought fuller explanations, turned and looked at me, as I spoke the baudiest words. I told her I'd seen a thousand cunts. — "Oh! impossible." — Her interest became intense in cunts. — "Yes dear, and scarcely one exactly like the other." "Do many show as much as mine?" — She looked confused as she asked and turned her eyes to the photos. "Oh many," — which was a lie. So talking, looking at photos, explaining, telling her I had done all and seen all done which were pictured in the photos, she at last laid her head on my shoulder with a sigh. — She was lewed, ready to receive my prick up her again, and again let me lift up her chemise and admire her beauties. She seemed pleased to let me.
I was surprized to find her so fine a woman, well grown, plump, rather indeed inclining to stoutness. Her breasts were smallish but beautifully shaped, and with lovely pink nipples, larger and more prominent than is usual in virgins. The shape of her thighs was fine, they touched all the way to her knees, and the contour of her haunches was superb. Her little feel looked smaller and prettier when she was naked than when dressed, she was always displaying them enticingly when sitting, and wore shortish, petticoats (not then fashionable) I believe to- show her feet.
Her cunt and motte, covered with hair of the darkest chestnut — the color of that on her head — was curly, close, and about the silkiest that I ever felt. It curled so round the soft plump lips, that the cleft was in shadow all but where large and thick nymphae and an unusually large clitoris protruded, forming a bunch which took three fingers to cover. Lower down the nymphae were soon lost in the cleft, and died away into the general surface of her cunt, but the large projection like a big red poppy but partly opened, was to me very ugly, and spoiled what otherwise would have been a beautiful cunt. Was it always so, or was it the result of frigging herself? I never asked and shall never know — I swore that her cunt was lovely. She looked at me as if she didn't believe my praise. Had she seen other cunts?
I admired all, and indeed was enraptured with her unexpected beauty of form. — "Now you're nearly naked, be quite naked love, let's get into bed and talk." — "I'm frightened." — "Why? Your mother thinks you out — what folly." — I stripped myself and stood close to her, feeling her cunt and lifting up her chemise, she holding my pego. "Let our flesh meet every-where, take it off, you shall, you must," and I began taking off her chemise spite of her resistance. Then into bed rapidly she got to hide her beautiful nudity, I with her, and after cuddling, kissing, feeling every crack and cranny. — "Your stockings, — I cannot feel your legs," — and in the bed I pulled those off. Both naked as we left our mothers' wombs I folded her in my arms. How exquisite is the embrace when man and woman are both naked, how the hands rove fndom knees to neck, and up and down and round, and into every cranny, armpits, bum furrow and cunt. Then our hands settled on the sacred implements of Venus, tongue played with tongue, all speech was lustful words, till I mounted her and fucked with prolonged rapture, sank into a sweet sleep and slept too long. "Oh! What will Mamma think!" With one feel up her gluey avenue I let her go. In greatest haste she dressed and left, stopping neither to wash or piddle. What would Mamma have said, had she known the condition of Edith's cunt?
At dinner I was intentionally placed near some friends who had arrived — distance from her we thought might help to lull suspicions if any arose. A chat with her for a minute in the reading room after-wards. — "Have you washed your cunt?" She nodded and smiled, then went to her mother, and at about eight o'clock came to my room again. Again we fucked and she went off in twenty minutes, leaving me a wee bit fatigued with my exercises.
Next morning I reflected — I had come to this city intending to stop two days, had already stopped four, and had deflorated a lady who seemed ready to risk anything to be fucked. I had suggested caution which in a degree she observed, but — "I don't care what becomes of me," — said twice or thrice in a way as if social ruin stared her in the face, I didn't like. I could riot stop much longer, and didn't want to get home rucked out, poking twice or more day after day is more than I can stand now. So, tho her exquisite signs of sexual delight when I was up her, her burning kisses, voluptuous sighs, her intense lovingness whilst fucking, gave me the most exquisite enjoyment, I resolved to save my strength and health a little, and to leave.
She usually breakfasted with her mother, but next morning appeared early on a terrace overlooking the sea. I determined to tell her I was going but hadn't the heart. She was going out with some ladies and I was to go to see her mother. I did, and found she was getting her leg well, quicker than the doctor had thought. Her brother was coming, etc. etc. This quite suited my intentions, and on leaving whispered "I shall be in my room at half past ten, the door will be open," — intending to inform her. Then I went to breakfast, had my tobacco, went to my room, and there she was.
My intentions vanished directly I saw her, my only thought was of her secret charms. What puts letches into my head I can't tell, but suddenly I wanted to gamahuche her. I had explained to her the meaning of the word the night before, and she'd admitted that her cunt had been licked by her Ayah in India, when he was not fourteen years old. She refused to let me, was in a hurry to dress to go out with some ladies, etc. etc. We were standing close together and I was feeling her cunt. "What have you put those damned drawers on for?" (She'd not had them on before.) "It's coldish this morning." — It was. — "I 'hate them." — But I felt her quim thro them, not wishing to fuck, hating to be hurried in that delicious friction. — "Let me kiss it." — "No." Yet in a minute she was on the bedside, her bum on my hands, thighs over my, arms, my nose buried in her silky motte, my tongue searching for her clitoris between the large nymphae, and found easily for it was full sized. I kissed her thighs, held them up that my lips might kiss and rub over her satiny buttocks, then her belly, then I nibbled at her love bud, licked all over the vulva, shot my tongue up the avenue, then played it on the clitoris, sucking it in at times, then nibbling it gently, till I felt- her thighs begin to twitch, her cunt slightly jerk up. Quicker went my tongue. — "Aherr." — "Feel my head love," at once her hands grasped it, on went my tongue — "Ahrr — ehha" -- her thighs for an instant stiffened, then quivering relaxed, a flush of cuntal juices met my tongue whilst still it lingered playing gently on her clitoris, giving the fullest pleasure, letting her lose none. Raising my head, looking at the moistened vulva, opening its red lips wider, again to see and glory in the cocks-comb edges of her lost hymen, I rose up. She was lying with eyes closed enervated by her spend. — Ah the luscious tranquility in mind and body which a spend gives both man and woman. Then she quickly got off the bed pushing down her clothes, and for the first time showed signs of modesty. She looked ashamed and away from me with flushed face as I said, "That's what gamahuching is." — "I must go — what will they think of seeing me come out of your room so often?" (I wondered too, for she hadn't before seemed to care.) "Shall I buy some more photographs?" — "Oh, do, do," with vivacity. — "Wash your quim, dear — let me wash it." — Without a word she left the room, chancing whom might be in the corridor.
All the remainder of the day I did nothing but think of fucking her, of looking at her lovely thighs and buttocks, at her secret charms again — and of the position I'd fuck her in. Then I resolved to stay a day or two longer, yet knew that I must tell her, and leave at some time. Her manner was quite like one who expected the liaison to be permanent. What really passed in her mind about that I know not, for when together, our entire time was employed in talking about copulation, its preliminaries, and looking at photographs. Of photos I went out and bought another collection, met her in the hotel with the ladies she'd been out with, arranged that she should come to my room as before, soon after table d'hote dinner — at which I wasn't to dine — and she was to humbug her mother. I heard that Mamma always asked about me, and I began to fear suspiciously.
In the evening she came and took care to wait till no one was about. The door locked, "Have you got any more photos?" were almost her first words. Producing them we sat down, she looked them thro with lustful avidity, whilst I had one hand on her thigh. — It seemed to me almost incredible, that such complete familiarity should have come about between us in so short a time, she unmistakably a virgin four days before, — but so it was — I told her I'd fucked a thousand women. "Oh what a story." Her mother had said I was a libertine by the look of my eyes. All this was seen, said and done, in a quarter of an hour, then, — "Let's do it dear." She rose up at once ready for fucking. What woman doesn't when it's a novelty? It happened to be an unusually cold night and I suggested bed. — No she couldn't be away long and feared her mamma sending for her. — But naked we got into bed, and fucked again, laid in each other's arms after feeling and fumbling our gluey genitals till they were dry again. Then I rose on my knees and made her pull my foreskin up and down, and then I put my fingers up her cunt as far as I could — all this with loving amourous talk — till again my prick was up her and again we fucked.
In the interval between our pleasure my leaving occurred to me, yet I postponed telling it. Our talk was so delicious about sexualities, that I hadn't the heart to say what I'd intended. There is no more delicious conversation, than when a man tells to a neophyte all his experience in sexual matters. How Edith's quim heated I could tell by the way she cuddled me, the way she clutched my pego and asked about other women's cunts — very curious about those — and much about harlots and their doings; and yet I couldn't get her to utter a baudy word. — She was certainly a curious one.
The rest of the pleasant yet in some respects sad amour, must be shortened. Next day in the morning I asked her to come to my room. — Visitors were out, the chambermaid had done the rooms — there are times when but few are in the corridors — when she came. "Edith dear, I'm obliged to go to London," — I blurted out determined to get it over. — She stared at me with mouth wide open for an instant, then flopped down heavily on a chair, buried her face in her hands, and burst into a flood of tears and sobbing. I awaited sadly, soothing as well as I could but could say nothing effectual. — At length she quieted and to some remark of mine, — "I knew it must be, and I've ruined my-self," — not that I'd ruined her — I said that that was nonsense, but she repeated it, and that she should never marry now. We talked an hour, she in much grief, begging me to stop a day or two for she should never see me again — would I wait till her uncle came? We separated without fucking.
She however came next evening and we fucked twice. How she managed to humbug her mother at leaving her alone so much, is needless to tell. I saw her mother in her room next day, and before I left am sure she had no suspicions about me. I waited three days more till her uncle arrived, and we fucked twice every day, and talked about that operation ad libitum and all appertaining to it. Then I made her a present of the photos on condition of her repeating after me the three words, "prick, cunt, fuck" — the only obscene words I ever heard her say. Yet she'd a hot cunt, was salacious to her bumhole I am sure. I frigged her once, and gamahuched her every day after the first, besides fucking her. We parted that last evening in tears. She said she loved me.
In our conversations, she told me she'd had three offers of marriage nearly, but they were broken off, she never knew why. She declared that no man had ever taken a liberty with her but me and some school girls, that one or two female Indian servants had gamahuched her, tho she'd never heard that name for cunt licking before I had said it — which is possible. — I gathered that she'd a sister in India and somehow came to the conclusion that both sisters were illigitimate, tho I never heard such a thing hinted of them. — Was her mother ever married? I wondered. — Certainly she was a thoroughly well educated lady. The day before I left Edith her courses came on whilst fucking. I congratulated her on it, but as before she remarked, she said didn't care what became of her.
[Three years or so afterwards, I heard she was married to a very rich man who took her to Brazil, and that is all I know about her. — It was a singular liaison, and somehow I have always felt sad when I think of it.]