They looked fairly well to do but not ladies. The beauty was clad in silk slightly the worse for wear, but all her clothing was neat and modest. The child and grandmother as I soon found her to be, were dressed similarly. — They were talking earnestly and loudly, and went on doing so without at first noticing me, tho dropping their voices a little, and I heard much of what they said. They were drinking sherry, of which the beauty seemed to have had quite enough. — Her face was anxious, excited, and moist with perspiration, which however didn't much impair her beauty. The old woman besought her to go home, not to worry herself and all would come right. — He would certain be home in six weeks, or he wouldn't have written those letters — “Besides Mr. * * * * says he must.” I soon gathered enough to infer that they were talking about the beauty's husband, who had been away for some months.
Then my cock stood stiff and full as I stood looking at her lovely profile, thinking how she must want fucking if she'd kept chaste during her husband's absence. Had she been fucked — did she frig herself — how satisfy her natural passions, she healthy and in the prime of life? — I longed to speak to her and began playing with the little girl, gave her a bun, and at once the mother turning her lovely face round began chatting with me — the old woman saying at intervals. — “My dear you'd better go — I must be off or they will think something has happened.”
“It's hot.” — “Yes it's dreadful, sir.” — Then reciprocal incitements of lust began their play, both almost unconsciously — each stimulating the other by looks prompted by stiffening prick and moistening cunt — I'm sure that by touch of her flesh I can communicate my lust to a woman, that by gently squeezing the woman's hand, looking in her eyes and thinking of fucking I have made many a woman colour up or look lovingly, and half think I can do so by merely looking at her. — We looked full into each other's eyes smiling — suddenly she dropped hers as if something had crossed her mind, and when she raised them again, there was a soft, abashed expression in them, as if half in fear that I might have guessed her mental emotion, for emotion there had been. Had her cunt responded sympathetically to my prick? We chatted on, her eyes grew bolder, and at length we looked into each other's fully, and without speaking. — There was desire in hers, I saw plainly. Suddenly she turned towards her mother saying, “We will go,” and to the child, — “Come along, dear.” — The child peevishly cried, — “Oh carry me, mamma.”
She pulled a glove off and saying, “You are heavy,” stooped to lift her — I stooped and lifted her, anxious to get close to the beauty. — “Have you got her?” saying that I laid hold of her naked arm just above the wrist as it was under the child's bum, and a thrill shot thro me as our flesh met. She took no notice, but moved the child about saying how heavy she was, whilst still I softly held and pressed the arm. — “How you got her well?” “Yes thank you, sir” — our eyes met full again as I relinquished her wrist.
The child was restless. They had turned to leave, when “Oh, you're so heavy dear you must walk,” and putting the child down somewhat hastily it slid with its bum onto the floor. I stooped to help it up, the mother did the same, and again I laid hold of her wrist. There was no excuse for that now, but she said nothing, and again our eyes met. In hers I saw that my lust had roused her passions, that her quim was yearning for a prick, tho perhaps not for mine, whilst mine was throbbing for her cunt. The child cried, the grandmother coming round let it towards the door, the beauty said again, “Good day, sir,” and they were gone.
I saw no chance in following them and turned to the barmaid, a coarse tho good looking woman of about thirty. My throbbing pego made me long for her, — any available cunt at that minute would have had my sexual worship, and I thought of getting a venal fuck-stress. Talking to her I heard she wasn't married — wouldn't mind marrying, but not to be left for months like that lady who I'd been talking to and she listening to. — “Ah, she must want a bedfellow mustn't she?” — “Sure I don't know.” She looked knowingly at me whilst serving customers who came in, but still talking. “She looks like it.” — “Oh does she, I suppose you know all about it, she's had an extra glass and it's a hot day.” — I saw from the barmaid's eyes, that I had set her thinking about fucking. The first hot weather makes the genitals of most of us pleasurably uneasy, and long for companionship and conjunction. I fancied that the barmaid's cunt was inciting her to fucking at that moment. — A hot May they say makes virginities cheap. This was a hot June, and cunts were sweating with lust. I recollect that ten years ago even, my gland was quickly white with sebaceous exudations — the sign of full testicles — if I'd not fucked them empty the night before.
