IT wasn’t until I was fifty, that I discovered I really enjoy being fucked by men. I have no desire to kiss or hug, just the penetration, and mutual sucking. Unlike some, I have never experienced discomfort or pain. You will find other men like me with the same preference to fuck you.
Hi, Mr Cox, before I read your blog I thought I was straight, but now I’m not so sure as I really do want to stroke and suck the cocks pictured. Trouble is I’m too afraid to set up a meeting with a dude. Also I’m married and don’t want to fuck myself up with … Read morestr8 @ 48 ?
Chapter 15. A sailor, a whore, and a garden-wall • The newly-made road • Windy and rainy • Bargaining overheard • Offer to pay • Against a garden-coal! • A feel from behind • A wet handful • Blind lust • Into the sperm • The policeman • A lost umbrella • A new sort of washing-basin • Fears of ailment (From My Secret Life Bi/ Walter)
Amidst all this saturnalia of cunt, I don’t believe I ever did anything with one, excepting to feel and fuck it, though in attitudes varied. Recherche erotic pleasures were not in my custom, and not even in my thoughts. Amusements with a man would have shocked me, had they been suggested. His spunk would have upset my stomach to look at. To put into a cunt which another man had just quitted, would have revolted me; yet I was doomed to do all this, unpremeditatedly, on the spur of the moment and opportunity. I lived then on the western outskirts of London where they were building on what had been and were still largely pleasant fields. About five minutes’ walk from my house was a street made not five years before, and leading out from it a new road, a sixth of a mile long, connecting two main roads, and made to enable the fields on either side to be built upon. There were gas-lights at long intervals, just enough to encourage people to use it at night The carriage and footways were of coarse gravel, and quite newly made. Under wheel and foot these roads crunched as people went across them.
At one end of the road was a new row of houses, the garden back-walls of which abutted on the open fields, and the side walls of two formed the entrance to the road, both houses just then were empty. It was about eleven o’clock at night, windy and rainy at intervals, and there was a small moon hidden by thick clouds scudding across it Sometimes there was a gleam of light, at other times all was dark It was very windy as I came through the road for a short cut, after thinking whether it was safe or not, and just then I met a policeman at the further end, and bid him good night The crunching of my footsteps on the newly-laid gravel annoyed me, both by its fatigue and noise, so I stepped on to the meadow-land which lay alongside it, and walked quite quietly. As I neared the street into which it led, I could distinguish what looked like a man and woman standing on the footpath close up against the garden sidewall of the empty house, and well away from lamps.
Thought I, ‘Whey are fucking or finger-stinking,’ so walked further from the footpath to prevent noise, and more slowly to see the fun. It excited me lewdly, for I wanted a woman. As I got near them I was under cover of the back garden-walls. The idea of catching a couple fucking made me more randy. “I won’t, unless you give me the money first,” said a female voice. I stopped, but heard no male reply. “I shan’t then, what have you got?” the shrill voice said. No audible reply, but I saw a struggle as if a man was trying to lift a woman’s clothes, and heard a laugh. Then I stepped on to the path, and walked on. “I shan’t then, if you have no money what did you came here for?” came clearly on my ear, though said in a somewhat lower tone. Just as I came to the angle of the wall I saw plainly a fair-sized woman with her back against the wall and a shortish man in front of her, pulling her about as if he was trying to feel her, or lift her clothes. The amatory scuffing prevented them noticing my approach. The woman said as I neared them, “I won’t without the money,” and then was a hish as I walked on.
Then with hoarse muttering, of “blood-prick spunk, bloody cunt,” I felt him shove and wriggle hard, and then both were stationary and silent. I kept my hand still groping under her cunt, and feeling his prick-stem from beneath, with my thumb and forefinger. He did not hurry himself to withdraw. “You’ve done, get away.” “Let’s fuck agin,” said he. “You shan’t.” As she spoke, his prick flopped out right on to my hand, wetting it. She moved away, the man swore. Mad now with lust, “Let’s feel your cunt,” said I lifting her clothes. She let me. “My God what spunk, how soft your cunt feels, let him fuck you again, I’ll give you more money, feel me, frig me.” I don’t recollect the girl speaking, but she seized my prick whilst I groped up her cunt with fingers saturated with sperm. No disgust now. For the moment I loved it. She stopped frigging. “Put it in me, it’s nicer.” “No.” “Oh! it’s all right, it’s nice, put it in.” “No.” “Do, I want a fuck.” “You’ve just been done.” “You do it” I yielded, and putting my prick into her reeking cunt fucked her. “Oh! I’m coming.” “So am I. ‘Oh – ah – ah” I spent, and think she did, am not sure; but she shagged hard, and squeezed me up to her. The sailor had taken my place, and was looking on I suppose, standing with his back against the wall, mumbling something. As my pleasure subsided I could just see the man by the side of us working away, I suppose at his prick, with his fist like a steam engine, I felt the sperm oozing on to my apparatus, all round. “Let’s fuck yer agin,” said the hoarse man’s voice. “I’ll give you money to let him,” said I. Out came my prick. “All right,” said she, “let me piddle first.” “Where is your prick?” I said, “does it stand?” “Bloody fine.” I put my hand on it, and grasped it. A new desire and curiosity about a male organ came over me. The woman had pissed, and was standing up, she caught hold of my prick which was hanging out, whilst I had hold of his prick. Then I took out money, and gave all the silver I had, I don’t know how much. “Put it into her,” I said, frigging it; it was not stiff, and I was impatient to feel him fucking again.
He turned to her front. “Let go my prick,” said he. The girl took it. “It’s not stiff.” “Bloody some thing,” I heard him say. Again I heard the rustle of the frig and of her clothes lifted. “Your cunt’s bloody sloppy,” said the husky voice, and he chuckled. “Make haste,” said the woman. “Oh! the policeman!” Half-way down the road I saw, the bull’s-eye of the policeman’s lantern. I was now standing feeling my own prick with excitement; but at the same instant a glimpse of moon light came from between the heavy clouds, and showed me the man pressing his belly up against the woman, and her petticoats bunched up high. The policeman’s bull’s-eye far off was throwing light across the fields. “The police!” I said. “Come further along,” said the woman dropping her clothes, and moving off still further into darkness, I moving off in the direction of the road. My lust went off, what if the policeman saw and knew me! I got to the road, turned to the left along the crunching gravelled path, walking very quickly, and so soon as I turned the corner took to my heels, and ran hard home, ran as if I had committed a burglary. Letting myself in with my latch-key I found I had left my umbrella behind me. Then a dread carne over me. I had fucked a common street nymph, and in the sperm of a common sailor, both might have the pox, what more probable? I could feel the sperm wet and sticky round my prick, and on my balls. I had then taken to sleeping in my dressing-room. My wife I thought must have been, according to habit, an hour abed. On entering my room there sat she reading, which was a very unusual thing. I sat down wishing she would leave the room, for I wanted to wash and wondered what she would say if she saw me washing my prick at that time of night, or heard me splashing. But she didn’t stir, so taking out the soap unobserved, “I’ve had diarrhoea,” I said, and down I went to the water-closet. Sitting there I washed my prick well in the pan, and went upstairs again. (How many times in my life has a sham ailment helped me?-how many times yet is it to do so?) Fear of the pox kept me awake some time. Then the scene I had passed through excited me so violently, that my prick stood like steel. I could not dismiss it from my mind. I was violently in rut. I thought of frigging, but an irrepressible desire for cunt, cunt, and nothing but it, made me forget my fear, my dislike of my wife, our quarrel, and everything else, and jumping out of bed I went into her room. “I shan’t let you, what do you wake me for, and come to me in such a hurry after you have not been near me for a couple of months, I shan’t, you shan’t, I dare say you know where to go.” But I jumped into bed, and forcing her on to her back, drove my prick up her. It must have been stiff, and I violent, for she cried out that I hurt her. Don’t do it so hard, what are you about!” But I felt that I could murder her with my prick, and drove and drove, and spent up her cursing.
While I fucked her I hated her, she was but my spunk-emptier. “Get off, you’ve done it, and your language is most revolting.” Off I went into my bedroom for the night. What I said whilst furiously fucking her, thinking of the sailor’s prick and the spermy quiet of the nymph, and almost mad with excitement, I never knew. I dare say it was hot. For a fortnight I was in a state of anxiety, and twice went to a doctor to examine my prick, but I never took any ailment. I went early next day to see if my umbrella was in the fields, but it was gone. I wonder who had it. I never saw the woman again that I knwv of, but had I seen her five minutes after the event I should not have known her, nor the sailor. He seemed to me a young man of about twenty, groggy and hoarse with cold, his prickseemed about the size of my own. She was a full-sized woman with a big arse, but flabby, Though I could not find my umbrella I saw the spot on which it had stuck into the wet turf, and the place where we had played, for a yard or two square was trodden into mud, whilst all around was green. After I had got over my fears I had a very peculiar feeling about the evening’s amusement. There was a certain amamt of disgust, yet a baudy titillation come shooting up my ballocks when I thought of his prick. I should have liked to have felt it longer, to have seen him fuck, I’d have fagged him till he spent. Then I felt annoyed with myself, and wondered at my thinking of that when I could not bear to be close to a man any-here, I who was drunk with the physical beauty of women. The affair gradually faded from my mind, but a few years after it revived. My imagination in such matters was then becoming more powerful, and giving me desire for variety in pleasures with the sex, and in a degree, with the sexes.
We went into the bedroom together. She stayed in the sitting-room. “She is better there,” said he. “Let’s see your prick,” I said as, soon as I had a little overcome my tremor. He pulled it out, it looked small. I touched it with a sort of dislike. “Are you had of a bit of brown?” he asked. I did not understand and he explained. We always say a bit of brown among ourselves, and a cunts a bit of red.” I had a feeling of nausea, but went on. “Let’s frig you.” He took off all but his shirt, and seating him on my knee I began to frig him. He, questioned me whilst doing so had I been up a man? “No.” Then there was no pleasure like it. I frigged violently but his prick would not stand, I talked baudy and about women. He said a bit of brown is worth a hundred cunts.” I felt quite disconcerted, for his cock remained small and flabby. I had thought that talking about cunts would stiffen it The conversation, then led by him, took an arsehole turn. He asked me to let him feel my bumhole. I consented. In for a penny, in for a pound, I began to think. Taking down my trowsers, he looked at my bum, and his prick stood at the sight. “Is it virigin?” said he, and felt it. Then, standing by my side, my left arm round his waist to steady me, I frigged him, and the little bugger spent, but it was very little. I rushed to wash my hand.
When he had composed himself, he washed his tool, and became very curious about me, and most energetically felt my prick. “Put it up me,” said he. “I can’t, my prick won’t stand” ‘Shall I suck it?” “You?” “Yes.” “Do you do so?” “Lord yes, I have had it so thick in my mouth, that I’ve had to pick it out of my teeth with a toothpick.” I turned sick, but after a time I turned his arse towards me, and got my prick stiffby hard frigging, determined to try what buggery was like. But the moment I put it against his arsehole down it drooped. He was kneeling at the side of the bed. “Wet it well with your spittle,” said he, wetting his own hole. It was useless, and I desisted. “You will presently,” he remarked. But tho I tried again and again, determined to know, everything, and to do everything once in my life, it was useless. Then he went to a drawer, and produced a small marble pestle such as chemists use, and asked me .to let him put it up my bum, extolling the pleasure I should have. “It must hurt,” I said. “Oh dear no, look.” Going to the side of the bed, he laid down, and sticking up his legs, shoved it up his own arsehole a little way. That only made me feel more sick, I was so unsophisticated in such matters. I expect he saw that, for he took it out But then he produced two more of different sizes, one quite a large one, and told me there was a friend he visited every week, who met him in his stables, and he put the larger one up his fundament. That man said it was not large enough to give him pleasure. “I put it up him to there” said the sodomite marking with his thumb the spot on the pestle. But the description made me feel more modest. “You should have the small one up first, I will do it for you, and I know such a sweet young man who would suck your prick at the same time if you would like.” “Oh, no .” “Do let me sod you,” said he all at once and quite affectionally, “I should so like to do it to you and take your virginity,” and he shook his prick, and frigged it a little. It was not stiff, and was very sharp pointed, but not at all a large one.I was now quite flabbergasted
His coolness and his tale of picking his teeth free of semen, made me actually shudder. Then the pestles. Fancy two men together in a stable, one shoving a pestle up the other’s bum. How curious I thought, yet how abominable, it’s incredible. Yet still I felt curious. “Does it make him spend?” I asked, “His prick stands after I have worked it up and down in the brown for a while, then I go on gently, and suck his prick, till he spends,” he replied coolly. Again I frigged him, curious to see his emotions, and watched his face when with difficulty he spent slightly. But my cock would not stand. So I went into the room to Betsy, determined to try her cunt. She had been, she told me afterwards, looking thro, and listening at the door all the time. “Don’t come near me,” said she to the sod.
After much ado she made my cock stand, I mounted her, and fucked, feeling his prick whilst I did so that either suggested itself to me, or he suggested it and it seemed to increase my pleasure. Then as I rammed up Betsy’s cunt, I became conscious he was feeling me behind, and that his thumb or finger was intruding into my bum hole. “Feel her brown,” said he. I was in the height of my pleasure. “You beast,” said Betsy. Whether I obeyed his advice or not, I can’t say. I spent, and fetched her, and then we quickly parted. I gave him a sovereign, no more, and her two, before each other. They made no remark. I promised to see him again, but had no intention of doing so, and never did. I met her soon afterwards, and she was curious. “Did his arsehole seem large?” I was unable to tell her, disliked even to refer to yet my curiosity seemed unsatisfied and I had a sort of desire to learn more, yet a dislike to myself for desiring it. When she asked me if she should get him again, I refused point blank, yet all the time aching to try, and dissatisfied at not having put my prick up him, to see if it gave some unknown pleasure or not.
Banned for over 100 Years, My Secret Life was first published between 1888-1894 in 11 volumes in Amsterdam by the Belgian-born bookseller/publisher Auguste Brancart. No-one really knows the true identity of “Walter”. But biographer Ian Gibson claims it is the pen name of one Henry Spencer Ashbee, For the next hundred years, it remained banned and considered obscene and pornographic. Only 20-25 sets of My Secret Life were originally printed, and sold at £60 per set, an enormous sum for the times, equivalent to over £4000 ($6000) at today’s prices. It is extremely sexually explicit. It’s a snapshot of a man’s thoughts from the Victorean era of England. Though sexuality is the book’s main focus, Walter focuses so much time on sex, he doesn’t realize he is giving us a picture of himself, his emotions, and the values of the period. When reading it you should remember when it was written.
Chapter 34. Unavailing repentance – Gemini frolics – Pricks between bellies – I on him – He on me – Tip to tip – Boots and stockings – A lascivious triad – Gamahuching all round – A looking-glass got – Genital manipulations – Simultaneous fuckings and friggings – I fuck, she sucks – Variations on the same tune – She on my prick sits – He her clitoris licks – Three on our sties together – Amatory exercises with ropes – Sarah’s pudendal capacity – An assault of two pegos – Finger and penis co-operating – Miscellaneous lascivities – A scare in the street – A scare at Sarah’s A suggestive question – Desires excited – Heavy pay for an anus – Sodomy cum onanism – Fear, disgust, and hasty retreat
I went home used up, but excited beyond measure. I could not sleep for thinking of having frigged a man The smoothness of skin, the loose easy movement of the outer skin over the inner rod, and its whiteness-the gradual change in color of its plum shaped, from pink to a deep carmine, the shooting out of his sperm, the voluptuous shuddering whilst he fucked Sarah, the saucers which came and went in his use cheeks when he fucked, all danced before my eyes as I lay in bed, and I saw them as plainly as if the fucking was actually then going on. Again her distended cunt lips, with the thick spunk oozing, my prick pushing between them with a squash, squeezing the spermatic mixture oat on to my balls, and up to her motte, and gumming our hair together, my grip of his stiffened cock as I fucked her the second time, all filled me with an incredibly furious, baudy excitement, making my prick stiffen and throb, spite of my fatigue and preventing my rest. Then came reflexion.
Had I really frigged a man, still worse-got my own arse wet with the sperm of another man. Above all sucked his prick! An act I had certainly heard of being done by men to each other, yet all but disbelieved, and looked on as a very foul action, yet I had done it, had enjoyed it all. Much as I had done and seen before, I was not quite easy in my mind, spite of my philosophy that any sexual enjoyment is permissible, that our organs of generation are for our own use and pleasure, and that what men and women choose to do together they have a right to do, it concerning no one else. Such are the results of prejudices and false education. It ended in reflecting that I never had intended to do those things, that opportunity had let me unwittingly to do them, and resolving that I would never do it again, I fell asleep.
Next morning at breakfast I thought, “That debauch will never be renewed.” After luncheon, “What was the harm after all.” Then I began to think I should like to feel him once more, to watch the phenomenon of the spend more coolly and philosophically. Once more to make him spend, and to watch his prick from its stiffening to its shrinking. To watch his face and see how pleasure affected it. Why should I not bring him and Sarah naked together as I had done and see his prick rise, let him fuck her, and watch as I did last night, surely there is no harm, or not more than in looking at such doings through a spyhole. The man is clearly not a sodomite, or he would not be so ready to fuck her. He is out of work, and probably is what he says he is. It is a chance which never may come again to me. I thought of the double fuck without the washing, of the prick in my mouth, and then felt ashamed. “I must have been screwed and so excited that I did not know what I was about, I shall never do that again, and hope he won’t tell Sarah. I then took a gallop, determining again to get him. I had slept so badly on the previous night that on my return I laid down. My mind wandered to his prick and what Sarah called his purse.
I wondered if his prick was really bigger than mine and wished I had measured it. I wondered if he spent more or less than me, and many other things; and at last came to the conclusion that I ought to be ashamed of myself, and being empty in stomach and fatigued, said, “I have done with that business.” Then I went to my club, had dinner, desire to see him again then came back, and soon I was with Sarah arranging for another meeting. Said she, “You’d a pretty good night, I declare that if I were to tell some women what we did, they’d only believe part of it, he wanted to sleep with me.” She dare say he would come again willingly, she would go and see. I gave her money to buy him trowsers, cravat, and collars, said that he was to take a bath, and also gave her money to feed him well. Sarah met me out an hour afterwards. He would be there the following night. She had done all I wished, and the fellow looked as spruce as possible. I was again nervous, and so was he, but a few minutes’ conversation put us at ease. We stripped, and behold us close together, I holding that handsome tool of his. He asked if Sarah was coming, but I did not want her then, and sat with his balls in my hand, for a time thinking of the size and fullness of the scrotum.
Of the sovereign, he told me that he first paid fifteen shillings for rent, and the rest where he owed money, that Sarah had got him good food, that he had not spent since that last night “When I thought of it all, I got to want it’ said he. Then I washed his genitals and made a complete and curious examination of his penis and scrotum, and had more complete quiet pleasure crowding in that than on the previous occasion. Before when feeling his prick it did not make me randy, tonight it did. My examination began to tell on him, and when I had pulled the foreskin once or twice up and down, his rod was stiff. Then up stiffened mine I began frigging him. “Now I will look at your sperm as it comes.’ Suddenly he laid hold, of my prick. “Hullo, don’t do that.’ He relinquished it begging pardon, saying he did not know what made him do it. My pulling his about seemed quite a proper thing for me, for I paid him for it; but directly he touched my prick, I felt disgusted. The mind is an odd thing, if a gentleman had felt me, should I have been equally shocked? This preliminary was soon over, he was on the point of discharge when I stopped, and making him sit down, watched his stiff prick gradually droop, and then I went at him again and so on. If a copious discharge is to be got out of a man, that is the way to do it-At length after playing so for long, he said he must and would come so I frigged as fine a spermatic ejaculation as I had had on the first night. It spurted out a yard, quite.
I had intended not to let Sarah appear that night, but feeling his cock had made my cock stand. I’ll frig myself;” I said. But I hated spending in that fashion. After trying to restrain myself till I could do so no longer, I called Sarah. She was dressed. Throwing her on the side of the bed, up went her clothes, and I put up her, he looking on. Up came his prick again at the sight. He asked to have her, but I wouldn’t let him, and handled his tool whilst I fucked her. I carried out my intentions, frigged him four times, and had no end of amusement with him. I had a taste that night for rolling over him as if he were a woman, when his cock was stiff, and making mine stiff, and laying the two pricks together. I tried all sorts of ways of making his stand. Sometimes by pulling the skin up and down, sometimes by shaking the top-now by giving it a rude pinch. I now by squeezing his balls. I tried every way which I could recollect women had used on me, or I had heard or thought of. There was now no difficulty about it, for his cock kept standing after very small handling; and be had still sperm, tbo getting at each discharge less in quantity and thinner. At his fourth discharge all was over, but there were still things which I wished to do with him. One was to put his prick in my mouth. Again I rubbed my lips on its smooth white stem, and kissed it, and all but put it in. But I never will do that again, thought i to myself. The amusement however seemed incomplete without Sarah. Again I fucked her, and then let him do it to her. That was a very long job and finished the evening, and him. Afterwards, each meeting I thought would be the last, yet I had him again. Sarah participated in the amusements regularly. The evening did not seem complete without the two. I was infatuated. Of course four discharges a night could not be kept up, but I did not see him every night. But as much spunk as could be got out of him I got, pumping him pretty dry with my fist, and myself as wen, but into Sarah’s cunt. I now tell only some of my amusements, and as near as may be in the succession in which they took place. They could not all be done on one evening.
My baudy imagination being set to work, all sorts of possibilities came into my bead. We soaped well our pricks, and under our balls and arse furrows. Then lying on the top of him, we thrust our pricks towards each others balls, and working in the soapy furrows, both spent on each other’s backside. It was not convenient, our pricks labelled at being so bent and thrust, but the novelty made up for the inconvenience. Novelty stimulates desire. I got much amusement from lying on the top of him, when our pricks were not stiff, and feeling the testicles and two cocks in a bunch together. Sarah, then quite delighted, felt our intermingled genitals. Then I put him on the top and myself beneath, Sarah held a looking glass and candle, so that I could see when on my back two ballocks in a heap together. Sarah was delighted with all my lasciviousness and said she never knew such a baudy man as I was. One day standing up I soaped both our prick tips and we frigged ourselves. We put the two tips so close that they rubbed together, and we spent against each other’s glands. These lascivious vagaries and delicacies did not suggest themselves all at once. Firstly my delight was to match his face as he spent, then to see the prick stiff, the sperm shoot, the tremulous shaking of his backside, and to hear his quiet murmurs of pleasure. After I had had enough, of that, I betook myself to more fanciful amusements. Spite of myself, my mind recurred to the feel of his prick when in my mouth, and altho I vowed to myself never to let it go into it again. Yet why? thought I at length. Have you not licked a cunt? Have you not had the fresh warm piddle squirt against your face from Sarah’s cunt? Have you not savoured the salt liquor which distils from and keeps moist a woman’s cunt? Nay. Have you not when moistened till almost running out, by its sweating (so to speak) under the action of your tongue on her clitoris, shoved your tongue up her cunt, and brought it back into your mouth with delight and ecstasy at giving her pleasure? Is the putting into your mouth a prick, dry, clean, and smooth as ivory, worse? But it’s a man’s. In her mouth a prick is quite proper. He may lick, tickle, and suck her hole, that’s quite natural. But a mans?-No I won’t. For all that, one night whilst feeling it, when he had washed after I’d first frigged him, I again washed it carefully, and laid him on the bed. There hung his prick and his testicles, the tip just covered by the prepuce. As I pulled back the foreskin, I put out my tongue and tickled the top. “Your tongue is on it,” said he laughing.
Then I took it in my lips. It was like ivory. I longed to minette with it, and passed the limp, soft, tool entirely into my mouth: not a bit was outside. It went back towards my gullet and there I held it, till it began to swell. I passed it up and down in my mouth, licked and sucked it, put it out and let it stay till it drooped, then remouthed it, and continued this for a long time. At length his sperm had been so accumulated by the dalliance that he said he could bear it no longer and would frig himself if I did not, I then brought it up to the spending throb, pulled it from my mouth, and finishing with my hand, his spunk shot up. There is nothing like coaxing a prick a long time, for accumulating the spunk in the reservoirs of concupiscence. I’m sure more comes then, than from a hasty frig. Then I fucked her before him, then sent her out, and again sucked his prick which was in powerful order. I laid him on the bedside in the attitude most convenient to lick a cunt, and so that I might see his face whilst I operated. It is easy in a man’s face to see when his bullocks are about to send forth their juices. A red Indian, they say, can preserve his features when being tortured. I doubt if he could when spending. A man’s face then is rather stupid, nor is that of a woman’s, as she is holding tightly to her, fucker’s. backside for the full engulfment of his throbbing cock in her cunt, highly intellectual; but it’s much more lovely than that of a man’s face. I offered him money to suck my prick. He would not, and that night’s amusement ended. Then much to his delight I began to let him fuck Sarah. Whilst they were doing that trick, I handled his balls, put my hand between their bellies, made them turn over on to their sides and lift their legs in all sorts of ways, so that I might see the movement of the prick and the swell of the lips of her orifice. I made him fuck her standing up, then on the side of the bed, whilst with a candle I moved round them, satisfying my curiosity. Then I fucked her and made him similarly satisfy himself. He was delighted to grasp my balls whilst my prick was pistoning her. Modesty and timidity had now left all of us. Unrestrained libidinous enjoyment was everything to us, each doing the best to stimulate each other’s lust. Sarah had become more active, suggestive, and libidinous than we two. She delighted in it.
My libidinosity increased by indulging it. I longed to see ourselves in the various attitudes. Sarah’s table glass was small, and having placed it so as to get a glimpse of ourselves, and finding it unsatisfactory, I bought at a broker’s shop, a long, large oldlooking glass in a mahogany frame. We together nailed it up against the wall at the level of the top of the mattress, and so that we could see ourselves from head to foot as we lay. Then our sensual delight was doubled, for as we fucked, or frigged, or sucked, we could look in the glass, and talk about our attitudes. One night all three highly strung, I was near her, he by her side on the bed. “Oh look at his prick.” “And it’s not stiff , being spend.” “Frig it, frig him Sarah.” She did. “Are you coming, jack.” Aha.” “Yes my spunk’s coming.” “Oh fuck me, fuck me,” cried Sarah, or “I’ll frig myself.” “Stop, Sarah, I’ll fuck you,” and I put my prick up her. She grasped my rump with one hand, with the other grasped his prick, and so did I. Both Sarah’s and my hand were on it. Sometimes she had the stem, I the scrotum just before we spent out spurted his spunk. Then as we felt it, we poured out our sexual tributes, a spasm of libidinous sympathy fetched us both together. I began then to pay for his baths, his food, and fine linen so that he came perfect from head to toe. He had no hair on his body, excepting on his prick and armpits, and but little on his face. What with idleness, good living, and baths, he became as smooth as ivory and as nice to feel as the nicest woman. He got in a fortnight plumper, altho I took so much semen out of him; but he was young and strong. What pleasure for him. The only annoyance to me was that his prick, when he got randy and it stood, had a strong smell. The smell of most cunts I like. After I had sucked him that night, I never repeated it but once.
Altho we had lost all modesty, I did not like Sarah to see all, until late in the evening when whiskey and baudiness told on me. Whatever we did together, I never lost sight of my principal object, which was to frig him, and see either his tool or his face when he was spending. When Sarah came in, at first we used to sit round the fire drinking and smoking, all as naked as the weather permitted. Sometimes he told his adventure’s with servants in the houses where he had worked, she about what men had done. The conversation always was erotic. Until the spirit moved me to action, I usually sat by him in an easy chair, with his tool in my hand. Sometimes he laid hold of mine. “Look at you two feeling each other’s prick, Sarah would say, with a toss of her head. ‘Shew me your split, and see if it will give his cock a rise.” She would show it gaping, and his cock would rise. Perhaps he’d kneel in front of her, fingering her cunt, or licking it, whilst she cocked her leg up to facilitate his work. At times both his and my fingers were up her cunt at the same time, and fifty other baudy tricks we did. I had now made Sarah suck my prick, but I disliked still to tell her that I had had his prick in my mouth; yet one evening did so. ‘Behold us soon all three on the bed, she with his prick in her mouth, and he with my prick in his mouth. I feeling about her cunt and his balls as well as the difficult attitude permitted. Another night we followed it up, by his laying on the bed and she kneeling over him with his prick in her mouth, her backside over his feet, and I at her backside fucking her. I alone could plainly see this in the looking glass, and a most delicious sight it was. My most satisfactory amusement, I think, was frigging him whilst I fucked her. I used to lay him down so that his prick was well within reach of my hand and in view whilst I did so. At times Sarah laid her head on his chest or his belly, as a pillow, he laying across the bed, and then his prick was just by my shoulder. Then putting my hand up I frigged him. At other times, laying partially an his side with his legs up against the wall at the bed head or near her head, his prick was equally close to me. Once his tool looked so beautiful that it seduced me entirely I had again vowed to myself that having had his prick in my mouth and felt it swell within it from flabbiness to a poker, under my lingual pressures, I would never do it again. But now lying with my prick up Sarah, my left hand under her smooth backside, my right round his prick; my pleasure coming on I could not resist it, and engulfed his stiff cunt-jammer in my mouth. My backside was oscillating, his hand could just reach my arse and he was feeling my balls. I felt he was near his crisis, withdrew his prick, and at that instant out shot his spin, just between Sarah’s naked breast and mine. Instantly, for such was the lascivious effect, Sarah and I mingled as mucilages in her cunt. I never had his prick in my mouth afterwards.
He got fond of Sarah and constantly besought me to let him have her. Then after I had frigged, him, we would all three sit around the fire. “Show us your cunt, Sarah. She’d open her legs its that the article was visil I watched his prick, which perhaps hanging down lazily between his thighs immediately at the sight of her gaping cunt would gradually thicken until it looked like a short roll of ivory. Then it rolled on one side as if to get away from the big balls. Then with a throb straightened somewhat, its top still pointing downwards, and the little red tipped orifice beginning to show more out of the foreskin. Then it gave a throbbing knock or jump against his thigh and proudly lifted his head, and with other throbs in succession stood grandly stiff against his belly, and the prepuce gently slid off, leaving uncovered two thirds of a deep crimson knob. Then I would gently pull up and down the skin with a slow motion, pleased at the involuntary action of his prick, caused by the mere look of a dark haired cunt. “Let me fuck her, don’t frig me this time, you have frigged me enough. Oh! do let me put into her.” Then I let him feel her cunt, and his lust goaded to the utmost, he would sigh and groan almost and lick her cunt. Then I let him have her, or had her myself and frigged him whilst up her. “And so we passed the pleasant time, as well we could, you know, in the days when we were randy arsed a long time ago.” One night, I sat her on my prick whilst I sat on a chair, her bum against my belly, her cunt outwards. In a looking glass, my ballocks then almost seemed to hang from the arsehole end of the cunt. He knelt down and licked her clitoris whilst I fucked her.
Sarah enjoyed the double action, and spent murmuring her lewd sensations; clutching his head, whilst I held her round her haunches tightly, my fingers on the hairy motte. In that position I could only ram gently up her. When she’d spent, he fell back on the floor and frigged himself looking up at her cunt, my prick still up her, and the sperm running out on to my balls, as my cunt plugger slowly left her. I was slim and supple as an eel. I would on the bed put into Sarah, and then we would both turn on to our sides belly to belly, keeping our privates coupled. Sarah would throw over me her upper most leg, so as to open her bum furrow, and he laid on his side with his belly close to her rump, thrusting his prick forwards. The tip would just touch the end of her slit, which was nearest to her bum hole; rub in the furrow, and touch the bottom of my prick as it lay engulfed in her. Then we all began fucking together. I ramming up her, he rubbing, his prick up against our coupled genitals, which he had bedewed with saliva. We never hid our pleasures. I would cry out when coming, Sarah would murmur her pleasure, and he the same. The three voices blended whatever baudy, stimulating words fell from us. “Oh! fuck – cunt – spunk – oh – I am wing – I’m spending – spunk – ballocks -aha – ahre” – I spent up her, he against her furrow and the stem of my prick, or over my balls, or against her arsehole or thigh. If the rubbing against our flesh didn’t fetch his sperm, he brought himself to a crisis with his hand, and at the last moment put his prick against her flesh and spent somewhere. One night as he was tailing Sarah, I felt his hard, wrinkled, full, large scrotum, and slipping my fingers further up, let his stiff lubricated shaft slip through my fingers as it worked up and down her cunt.
Then reversing my hand so that his prick rubbed against the back of it, I slowly glided the middle finger up her cunt. “What are you doing,” said she. “Feeling up.” She said no more, the lasciviousness of the act pleased her and him, the whole length of my finger was up her side by side with his prick, whilst he was fucking. His prick glided over my wet finger as they spent together. I had already fucked her, was cool and collected, and noticed the tightening of her cunt as she spent, in a way I never had in any woman; for clear observation of the muscular action of a woman’s cunt, at the supreme moment of spending, is impossible; tho my prick is conscious of its constriction. I did that more than once. Sarah’s, altho one of the most delightfully compressive cunts, was undoubtedly largish. Once she allowed us to try to get both pricks up her together, but we could not manage it. [It is difficult, even with two very rigid tools to do that, for I and another man have tried it since with a woman. But such is the extensibility of a cunt that I’m sure it will take two pricks at once.] Then we reversed our position, and I pushed from behind and spent against his balls, whilst he fucked her. I liked to vary my pleasures, and when away thought of what I had done, and arranged variations of the fun for our next meeting. [What whims and caprices lust generates! I have often thought how absurd the following part of my narrative seems, but the deed didn’t seem at all absurd to me then.] Bringing both pricks into use at the same time pleased me the difficulty was that our legs got in the way.
After thinking how to obviate this, I put a big hook in the ceiling, and a rope hanging from it with loops at the bottom. Into a loop Sarah put her upper foot, and that slung her leg out of the way. Sometimes he put, his foot so. Such ingenious devices voluptuous pleasures led me to. They have seemed ridiculous since, but delighted us all immensely at the time. Afterwards I put up a second hook and rope, at such distance apart that Sarah could easily put through them her legs up to her knees, and she laid for ten minutes at a time with her legs in the air so distended that her cunt gaped wide. We saw her cunt and anus peeping out from under it. When in that position I fucked her. Before that we men stood and admired her exposure, feeling each other’s pricks, and in the looking glass admiring ourselves in the baudy postures. I made him another time fuck her whilst her legs were slung up, and as soon as his prick was out. I investigated her cunt and saw his sperm in it I find now nothing objectionable in semen that essence of love. Whilst I fucked her in that position, I once made him kneel over her with his backside towards me and his prick in her mouth. Then I recollect for the first time that I noticed his anus. Soon after I had him, I took a fancy to see him in silk stockings. He put on a pair of Sarah’s, which so pleased me that I bought him a pair, and a pair of kid boots. I never had him afterwards without them. When on the top of Sarah, with legs together in silks and boots alike, altho the male leg is different from the female, I could scarcely tell which was which, from heels to rumps. But the split ad the spindle chewed the difference in the sexes. Once I made Sarah lay on the top of me and do the fucking, whilst he squatted on her back. So placed I frigged him. Some of his sperm came on to Sarah’s hair and made her angry.
Sarah didn’t mind being spent over anywhere excepting her head. Some of his spunk fell on my face, and I did not like it. During one period of this erotic frenzy, being as it happened by myself in town alone, I was there nearly every night. My curiosity was insatiable. I would sit on a footstool with my head between his legs, and ear resting against his ballocks, I made the two stand up belly to belly touching, whilst I laid down between their legs and looked up at their genitals, sat with my face against his balls, and his prick up against my nose, whilst Sarah delicately tickled my prick with her mouth. I pissed against the tip of his prick, and in brief did every fantastic, erotic, frigging, feeling, tickling, skinning, coaling, sucking tricks to his rod and balls that I thought of, and always with delight. At last always seeing the tip get redder, the rod stiffen, and the gruelly sperm jet out of it.Sarah said, ‘You’ve ruined that chap. He can now get work and won’t’ I had then seen all I wanted, and also felt offended with his familiarity; told her I would not see him again, and then he would go to work. ‘He won’t, I am sure.” But I kept away, and whilst doing so recuperated, for I’d knocked myself up a little with this lascivious excitement. I saw one day somebody like him in the streets, which frightened me, although I had never allowed him to see me with my hat on. When I wrote to Sarah and she met me at a house, she said he was sad at not seeing me, and she had told him I was out of town. “Have you ever buggered him?’ she asked suddenly. The question revolted me, such intention had never once entered my head, had never even occurred to me. Two or three days after I was again alone in town, and awakened with such lewdness that had my grandmother been in bed with me, I believe I should have gruelled the old lady’s quiet. Tossing about, and resisting frigging myself, the baudy amusements had with him and Sarah kept running through my mind; and altho I had vowed to myself never to see him again, the desire to do so became overwhelming, and I wrote to Sarah to get him. The evening came, and how strange! I felt part of my old nervousness. He put on his silks and boots, which Sarah kept.
At the sight of his white flesh, and roly poly pendant, mine stood fright. We stripped. I pressed his belly against mine, grasping him round his buttocks (he was smooth as a woman), and his prick rose proudly at once. I handled his prick, pleased with the soft feel of the loose skin. Fetch me, or I’ll frig myself, I shall spend a pail full.’ I wetted both our pricks and bellies with soap and water, then putting him on his back on the bed, mounted him our pegos were pressed between our bellies, and grasping each other’s rumps, and shoving our pricks about as well as we could, the heat and friction drew both our spunks, and we lay quiet till our tools shrunk down over our balls, forming a heap of testicles and pricks. Then came a dislike to him and disgust with myself that I often had felt recently. But it washed directly, I felt lowed again and when I felt his cock. It was stiff soon.
As he finished washing it he turned round, and I saw it thick and swollen just then Sarah rushed in and prayed me to go. ‘Do, do pray, or there will be a great row, for God’s sake go.” She was much agitated, I had never seen her so before. “You must you, shall go, or I shall be half ruined.” Yielding, I went as quickly as I could, and he did after me, I heard. Next night I saw her out, and could get no explanation about her agitation; but she told me. I could not go to the house for a week or ten days. What gave me about that time such hot fits of lust it is not easy to say, but I was in friut. At times a fellow’s prick stands much more than at others, sometimes it is idleness, sometimes stimulating food, sometimes strength. For some days before I saw him again my prick stood constantly, I was again alone in town, and why I did not ease it by fucking don’t recollect, Sarah I could not see any where, and I did nothing but think how I would frig him, and tell her, when we met. When at length we met, he told me he had not spent since I’d made him. Laughing, Sarah said, “The beggar wanted to have me, but I wouldn’t let him. Perhaps a lie. I touched his cock which sprang up stiffly at once, He stripped, and his red tipped, white stemmed sperm spouter would have fascinated any woman. I undressed, my cock stiff as his, and libidinous frolics began. “Have you buggered him” Sarah’s question came suddenly into my mind as I handled his throbbing prick, his rigid piercer. Fetch me, frig me, then you fuck Sarah and let me fuck her after, go on, I’ll frig myself, I must spend” said he, and began frigging. I stopped him. I put him in various attitudes and looked at his naked rigidity-feeling it, kissing it, glorying in my power, with my own prick upright.
Both were wanting the pleasure sorely, yet I dallied and my brain whirled with strange desire, fear, dislike, yet with intention. Then I placed him bending over the bed, his bum towards me, his head towards the looking glass, I stood back to look. There were his white buttocks mid-large womanly white thighs, his legs in silk, his feet in feminine boots. No one could have imagined him a man, so round, smooth, white; and womanly was his entire backside and form. It was only looking further off that I missed the pouting hairy lips, and saw a big round stone bag which showed the male. His prick was invisible, stiff against his belly. I closed on him, put my hand round and gave has prick a frig his bum was against my belly. “Fetch me, oho make haste, I’m bursting” looking down I saw his bumhole and the desire whirled thro my brain like lightning, Without pausing or thinking, I felt his prick from under his balls, and whilst he almost shivered with desire “Oh! make haste, fetch me”
I put both hands round him, feeling his balls with one, his prick with the other; and my own stiff prick I pressed under his ballocks, saying, “Let me put my prick up your bum.” That I won’t,” said he disengaging himself and turning round, “that I won’t.” Furiously I said, “Let me. I’ll give you ten pounds.” “Oh no.” ‘I will give you all I have” and going to my trowsers I took out my purse, and turned into my hands all the gold I had, it was, I think, more than ten pounds. “Oh no, I can’t, it will hurt,” said he, eyeing the money. “It won’t.” “It will. When I was apprenticed, a boy told me a man did it to him, and it hurt him awful.” I don’t know what I replied, but believe I repeated that it would not hurt, that it was well known that people did it, and as I talked I handled his prick with one hand, with the other holding the gold. “It will hurt , I’m frightened, but will you give me ten pounds really?” I swore it, talked about that of which I knew nothing, that I had heard it was pleasure to the man whose arsehole was plugged, that once done they liked nothing so much afterwards. His prick, which had dwindled under fear, again stiffened as I frigged, he ceased talking and breathed hard, saying, “I’m coming.” I stopped at once. “Let me.” “I don’t think you can, it seems impossible, if you hurt me will you pull it out?” “Yes, yes, I will.”
He turned to the bed again and kneeled, but he was too high. I pulled him off, then it was too low. Again on the bed and I pulled his bum to the level of my prick, I locked the door, I trembled, we whispered. I slabbered my prick and his hole with spittle. His prick was still stiff. There was the small round hole, the balls beneath, the white thighs. I closed on him half mad, holding him round one thigh. I pointed my prick, my brain whirled, I wished not to do what I was doing, but some ungovernable impulse drove me on. Sarah’s words rang in my ears. I heard them as if then spoken. My rod with one or two lunges buried itself up him, and passing both hands round his belly I held him to me, grasping both his prick and balls tightly. He gave a loud moan. “Ohoo I shall faint,” he cried. “Ho, pull it out.” It’s in don’t move or I won’t pay you, or something of that sort, I said, holding myself tight up to him. “Ohooo, leave go, you’re hurting my balls so” I suppose I was handling them roughly, but his bum kept close to my belly. I recollect nothing more distinctly. A fierce, bloody minded baudiness possessed me, a determination to do it , to ascertain if it was a pleasure. I would have wrung his prick off sooner than have withdrawn for him, and yet felt a disgust at myself. Drawing once slightly back, I saw my prick half out of his tube, then forcing it back, it spent up him. I shouted out loudly and baudily (Sarah told me), but I was unconscious of that. She was in her sitting room. I came to myself, how long afterwards I cannot say. All seemed a dream, but I was bending over him pulling his backside still towards me. My prick still stiff and up him. “Does it hurt now.” “Not so much.” His prick was quite large but not quite stiff. A strong grip with my hand stiffened it, I frigged hard, the spunk was ready and boiling, for he had been up to spending point half a dozen times. My prick, still encased, was beginning to stiffen more.
He cried “I am coming, I am coming” his bum jogged and trembled his arsehole tightened my prick slipped out and he sank on the bed spending over the counterpane, I stood frigging him still. He spent a perfect pool of sperm on the bed. The maddening thought of what I had done made me wish to do it again. I forgot all my sensations, I have no idea of them now. I knew I had spent, that’s all. “Let me do it again.” “That I won’t for any money,” said he tuming round. Then I frigged myself and frigged him at the same time furiously. Fast as hands could move did mine glide up and down the pricks. Pushing him down with his arse on the sperm on the counterpane, I finished him as be lay, and I spent over his prick balls, and belly. In ten minutes our double spend was over. Immediately I had an ineffable disgust at him and myself , a terrible fear, a loathing. I could scarcely be, in the room with him-could have kicked him. He said, “You’ve made me bleed.” At that I nearly vomited. “I must make haste,” said I looking at my watch, “I forgot it was so late. I must go.” All my desire was to get away as quickly as possible. I left after paying him, and making him swear, and swearing myself, that no living person should know of the act. Yet a few days after I wrote the narrative of this blind, mad, erotic act; an act utterly unpremeditated, and the perpetration of which as I now think of it seems most extraordinary. One in which I had no pleasure, have no recollection of physical pleasure and which only dwells in my mind with disgust; tho it is against my philosophy even to think I had done wrong