However, the presence of much mundane detail, the writer's inclusion of incidents that do him little personal credit, and the lack of intrinsically improbable circumstances in contrast to most lend it considerable credibility. I was about sixteen years old, tall, with slight whiskers and moustache, altogether manly and looking seventeen or eighteen, yet my mother thought me a mere child, and most innocent; she told our friends so. Her lips are wet, or it is mine which are getting wet? Have all men had the strange letches which late in life have enraptured me, though in early days the idea of them revolted me? I had a little sister about nine months old, who was in the nursery. As we got there, pushing aside the leaves, we saw the big backside of a woman, who was half standing, half squatting, a stream of piss falling in front of her, and a big hairy gash, as it seemed, under her arse; but only for a second, she had just finished as we got the peep, let her clothes fall, tucked them between her legs, and half turned round. At last we found the servant's privy one of the best places.
I don't think I had heard that before, but can't be sure. I washed my shirt as well as I could, and looked sadly at my sore prick, I could not pull the skin back so much as usual, it was torn, raw, and slightly bleeding. We were then allowed, and it seems to me not before that time, to go out by ourselves. We now frequently examined our pricks, and Fred jeered me so about my prepuce being tight, that I resolved that no other boy should see it; and though I did not keep strictly to that intention, it left a deep-seated mortification on me. Nine months before this I should as soon have dared to think of fucking my aunt, but experience had altered me.
I have since gone through abnormal phases of amatory life, have done and seen things, had tastes and letches which years ago I thought were the dreams of erotic mad-men; these are all described, the manuscript has grown into unmanageable bulk, shall it, can it be printed? I read a lot of books. Down she stepped, her clothes caught on the edge of the cart, or step, or somehow; and I saw rapidly appear white stockings, garters, thighs, and a patch of dark hair between them by her belly; it was instantaneous, and down the clothes came, hiding all. Mother came home later, I was in a fright, having laid in bed cooling down and thinking of possible consequences; heard the street-door knocker, got out of bed, and in my night-shirt went half way downstairs listening. 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. All this I recollect as if it occurred but yesterday, I shall recollect it to the last day of my life, for it was a honey-moon of novelty, years afterwards I often thought of it when fucking other women. Though now at a public school, I was shy and reserved, but greedily listened to all the lewd talk, of which I did not believe a great deal. She and my aunt quarrelled, my aunt was very poor and proud, and wanted a hot dinner at seven o'clock, I my dinner in the middle of the day.
I had well nigh forgotten this packet, which I had had full three years, when, looking for some title deeds. Then of her being on her back, of my striding across or between her legs, and her heaving me up and down, and my riding cock-horse and that it was not the first time I had done so; then I fell flat on her, she heaved me up and down and squeezed me till I cried. If its read with scholarly or salacious intent, then the whole narrative takes on a new dimension, but otherwise the mass of details becomes simply overwhelming. She married soon, my mother told me of it; she lived twelve miles from us, and did not write to me. I now had arrived at the age of puberty, when male nature asserts itself in the most timid, and finds means of getting its legitimate pleasure with women.
We have accepted that subjectivity, while perhaps blunting the edge of a telling fact, is what chisels the design in the first place. When I sneaked into the kitchen again, I was ashamed to look at her, and left almost directly, but one day I felt her again, laughing she put her hand outside my trousers, gave my doodle a gentle pinch and kissed me. I seemed at once to understand why woman and men gut together, and yet was full of wonder about it. I had developed without her having noticed it, love of women, and the intensest desire to understand the secrets of their nature had taken possession of me; the incessant talk of fucking with which the youths I knew beguiled their leisure, the stories they told of having seen their servants, or other girls half, or quite naked, the tricks by which they managed this, the dodges they were up to, inflamed me, sharpened my instinctive acuteness in such matters, and set me seeking every opportunity to know women naked, and sexually. How I envied him the ease with which he covered and uncovered the red tip.
I was several times in the same room with her, and was permitted the same liberties, but no others. The fact of hair under the arms of women had a secret charm for me about that time. One of my sisters came home and diminished our opportunities; still we managed to fuck somehow, most of the time they were uprighters. Once or twice only we saw a female squat down, but nothing more, till my mother and Fred's came to stop with us. She comes to my memory as a shortish, fattish young female and that she often felt my prick.
Quite the contrary, most of his action is purchased, and since he is often nearly broke, there is a lot of begging involved. I recollect both going into the bed room together, it was next to mine. If I say that I saw, or did, that with a cousin male, or female, it was with a cousin and no mere acquaintance; if with a servant, it was with a servant; if with a casual acquaintance, it is equally true. The work itself is enormous, amounting to over one million words, the eleven original volumes amounting to over 4,000 pages. I smelt and smelt almost out of my senses, sat pouring over a book, seeming to read, but with my fingers to my nose and thinking of cunt, its wonderful size and smell. I recollect also largely what we said and did, and generally our baudy amusements.
I clearly recollect our talking at that time about fucking, and wondering if it were true or a lie. Just before Charlotte's day out, I went to my aunt, complained of my mother's meanness, and she gave me a sovereign. So although boiling with sensuality, I was still all but a virgin, and actually so in fucking. I need not repeat about my prepuce, which as said I could now pull down with a little less difficulty. From Charlotte I had my fast knowledge of menstruation and of other mysteries of her sex. Must she not have expected to be tailed? Though writing now, and having in my mind's eye, exactly how the woman squatted, and the way her petticoats hung, I am sure he never did see it; it was brag when he said he had, but we were always talking about girls' cunts, the desire to see one was great, and I then believed that he had seen the pedlar woman's.
A quiet young girl wipes her cunt on the outside only. I could not bear his looking at me so; he would ask me why I turned down my eyes. A gay woman often tries to shove back her bum just as you spend, gets the discharge near the outlet, uncunts you quickly and at once washes and pisses at the same time. I must have been half an hour on my knees, which became so painful, that I could scarcely bear it; we were both panting, I was sweating; an experienced man would perhaps have had her then; I was a boy inexperienced, and without her consent almost in words, would not have thought of attempting it; the novelty, the voluptuousness of my game was perhaps sufficient delight to me; at last I became conscious that my fingers on her cunt were getting wet; telling her so, she became furious and burst into such a flood of tears, that it alarmed me. The illustrations in the book, of faces covered with scabs, blotches, and eruptions, took such hold of my mind, that for twenty years afterwards, the fear was not quite eradicated. Then I know now my father got into difficulties, we moved into a smaller house, the governess went away, I was sent to another school, one of my brothers and sisters died; my father went abroad to look after some plantations, and after a year's absence came back and died, leaving my mother, in what compared with our former condition, were poor circumstances, but this in due course will be more fully told.
Fred's mother, mine, the girls, Fred and I went into the Park gardens, one day after luncheon. She was a salacious young woman, I think from what I recollect of her, and am told, was afterwards fucked by a lot of men; but it was a sore point with the family, and all about her was kept quiet. We got bold, reckless, and whenever we met alone, if only for an instant, we felt each others genitals. She bore my tugs with a little flinching and never answered my entreaties. To rush downstairs, and open the door was the work of a minute. It is the sexual memoir of a well-to-do gentleman who began at an early age to keep a diary of his erotic behavior.