MY SECRET LIFE
She had lived for years in the parish, and was thought respectable. She hadnot much use of her house in that way, wealthy people going to town for their frolics,—town only being an hour’s journey—and no gay women being in the village that I know of.
At this house, I spent Charlotte’s third holiday with her, in a comfortable bed-room. We stopped from eleven in the morning, till nine at night, having mutton chops and ale, and being as jolly as we could be. We did nothing the whole day long, but look at each other’s privates, kiss, fuck and sleep outside the bed. It was there she expressed curiosity about male emissions. I told her how the sperm spurted out, then discussing women's, she told me of the pleasure I had given her when fingering her in the manner described already; we completed our explanations by my frigging myself to show her, and then my doing the same to her with my finger. I bungled at that, and think I hear her now saying, “No, just where you were is nicest.” “Does it give you pleasure?” “Oh yes, but I don’t like it that way, oh!—oh!—I am doing it—oh!” I had no money that day, Charlotte had her wages, and paid for everything, giving me her money to do so.
One day we laughed at having nearly been caught fucking in the privy. “She must have a big bum, must Mary”, said I, “to sit on that little seat at the privy.” Said Charlotte, “She is a big woman, twice as big as me, her bottom would cover the whole seat.” This set us talking about the cook, and as what I then heard affected me much at a future day, I will tell all Charlotte said as nearly as I can recollect.
“Of course I have seen her naked bit by bit—when two women are together they can’t help it, why should
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