My Secret Life: An Erotic Diary of Victorian London (Signet Classics)

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my arm round her waist and kissed her. She gave me one without any hesitation in return, and then I took a dozen. "I don't know what Charley would say if he knew it," said she. "Neither of us will tell him," I replied and I pulled her to me, and kissed again and again. "Oh, don't," said she, giving herself up to it tho, and letting me kiss, and giving me even some in return, but saying, "Don't now, we mustn't." My friend called for me, and drove me off for the rest of the day. I could not help myself, but anything which interfered with my cunt hunting, annoys me. I have if possible given up anything, everything, when on the female scent, so was glad when night came, and got to the hotel. — I winked when I saw her, but she kept a quite stolid face, and I found afterwards that she was looking to see if the head woman was visible. — I rang for "Whiskey and water." "Please, sir, ring for the water." Disappointed I did. The whiskey went into the chamber pot. Let us suppose a couple together — he having had women before — she having had it once or twice on the sly, but has been a long time without it, and determines not to risk it again. He knows nothing about this but begins to long for her. — They are quite alone, and there is no chance of being disturbed. Victoria's permission, her behaviour when in the omnibus, and now her sleeping away from her home set me wondering, for she seemed so much up to snuff. The next day I made enquiry about this cousin, and heard she was the widow of a clerk in the Bank of England who had been dead about two years, and had left her enough to live upon — but she let her first floor. — She had lived there some years, and all looked respectable, but as to Vic it was clear that she knew she A New York publisher was arrested in 1932 for printing the first three volumes, and in 1969, a British printer as sent to prison for two years for reprinting it.

James had promised to marry her. One night he took her to the theatre, and then to have some drink in a house, and there he induced her to let him have her. Since then he had her repeatedly, and nearly always on the sofa in our dining room. For half an hour I questioned her and she told me all the detail, as if I were her confessor. I was really very glad, but did not quite see why I should give fifty pounds. I had done the girl no harm, had given her lots of money, and enabled her quietly to get over her trouble which I had not brought on

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It was a wonder to me that when both sexes feel so much pleasure in looking at each other's genitals — that they should take such extreme pains to hide them, should think it disgraceful, to show them without mutual consent, and penal to do so separately or together in public. — I came to the conclusion that in the women it is the result of training, with the cunning intention of selling the view of their privates at the highest price — and inducing the man to give them that huge price for it — the marriage ring. Women are all bought in the chemise." "I shall be cold." "Come on to the sofa." — Off went her chemise. "Take off your shirt." — Off I threw it. Then I looked at her cunt, and upwards and downwards from armpits to anus. —Oh those delicious investigations when made for the first time on a fine woman, or indeed almost any woman for the first time, for a lustful curiosity steals over me at the idea of seeing any female naked, from an infant to a middle aged one, — and she was a splendid tall creature, with large breasts, hairy arm pits, a dark fledged, full lipped, mature, bold, handsome looking cunt, with a larger clitoris than usual. It was indeed so much developed as to be quite a feature, but there were but small inner lips, hanging from it. Her whole form was fleshy and solid, her face handsome but bold, with large dark fiery eyes, and splendid teeth showing thro full lips, and now I guessed her to be thirty-eight years old.

The best guess as to who the author actually is, is Henry Spencer Ashbee, a book collector, writer, and bibliographer who was an expert on erotic books in his day. In these opinions I was strengthened by repeated conversations with Camille. She was one of the most philosophic whores I ever knew, was fairly educated, and had a wonderfully cool common sense way of looking at things. When I had doubts of the propriety of doing this or that, she would solve them with answers which appeared to me irrefutable, at length. We seem to have been on the subject of unusual pleasures whenever we met. — In fact we were constantly talking about varieties in lustful enjoyments. She would sit down This was her tale and likely to be true enough, for I have known of two or three such arrangements between servants. They wished it kept quiet, because my aunt would not have a married female in her service and That she wasn't — very few gentlemen spoke to her, — and when out, she always went to her aunt's who lived in the town. — She thought the gentlemen who came to B***f**d did not admire women as big as she was.Then I went on a visit to one of my uncles in the North. He had married a prudish sort of woman, and they lived on their fortune and on their estate which was mainly hers. — He let his farms reserving the game, and I went to see him usually once a year, and