MY SECRET LIFE
big bum, white thighs and hairy belly bottom, the jog, jog, of the elbow, and all the other particulars sunk deep into my mind.
We fucked more than ever, recklessly—it is a wonder we were not found out, for one evening, it being dark, I fucked her in the forecourt, outside our street-door; but troubles were coming.
Her father wrote to know why she had not been home at her holidays, she got an extra holiday to go and pacify him; then we had a fright because her courses stopped, but they came on all right again. One of my sisters came home, and diminished our opportunities, still we managed to fuck somehow, most of the times they were uprighters. The next holiday she went home by coach (the only way), I met her on the return, and we fucked up against the garden wall of our house. A month slipped away, again we spent her holiday at the pew-opener’s; no man and woman could have liked each other more, or more enjoyed each other’s bodies, without thinking of the rest of the world. I disguished nothing from her, she told me all she knew of herself, the liking she took for me, her pleasure yet fear and shame when first I felt her cunt, the shock of delight and confusion when on my twiddling it, she had spent; how she made up her mind to run out of the house when the milkman came, the hysterical faint when I first laid my prick between her slit and spent, the sensation of relief when I had not done, an instinct told her I should, in spending outside, the sort of feeling of “poor fellow, he wants me, he may do as he likes”, which she had; I told my sensations. All these we told each other over and over again,
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