MY SECRET LIFE
play with Tommy of course, she can scarcely look me in the face, she is blushing like a rose. “Was it not lovely, Charlotte, is not your thing wet?” In she rushes with Tom, soon I follow, cook is still upstairs. “Come, be quick.” Again the bolt, again we fuck, she walks off into the garden with Tommy, and her cunt full, and cook and she chat from the window. How we laughed about it afterwards.
Modesty retired after this, we gave way to our inclinations, she refusing but always letting me if we got a chance! We were still green and timid, at the end of three weeks we only had done it a dozen times or so, always with the cook in the house, always with fear. I was longing for complete enjoyment of all my senses, had never yet seen her cunt, except for a minute at a time, was mad for “the naked limb entwined with limb”, and all I had read of in amatory poetry. I had gained years in boldness and manhood, and although nervous, began to practice what I had heard.
I heard of accommodation houses, where people could have bed-rooms and no questions were asked; and found one not far from my aunt’s, although she lived in the best quarter of London. Just before Charlotte’s day out, I went to my aunt, complained of my mother’s meanness, and she gave me a sovereign. On my way home, I loitered a full hour in the street with the baudy house, marked it so as to know it in the day, and saw couples go in, as my knowing friend who had told said I should. The next day instead of going to college, and risking discovery, I waited till Charlotte joined me, took a hackney coach to the street, and telling Charlotte it was a tavern walked to the door with her, to my astonishment it was closed. Disconcerted I
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