“Get up love, I want to piddle,” said she. I rolled off of her belly. — She rose staggering but smiling, kissed me and looked half ashamed. Her hair was loose, her face blood red and sweaty, her eyes humid with pleasure, and puffy and blue the skin under her eyes. She sat on the pot by the bedside looking at me and I at her, and still with voluptuous thoughts she put up her hand and felt my prick. — “You've fucked me well.” — “My God! aren't we three beasts — I'm done for.” — “So am I.”
I'd fucked her thrice, he thrice. — She spent to each of our sexual spasms and many more times. During their last long belly to belly fucking she kept him up to it for her whole and sole pleasure, for she was oblivious of me. — She must have spend thrice to his once, for her lovely expression of face, her musical cries, her buady ejaculations during the orgasm — I know them full well by long experience — were not shammed. That would have been needless and impossible. — The tightening of her bum hole on my finger told the same tale, for the sphincter tightens in both man and woman when they spend. — She'd also frigged herself, been gamahuched by both of us, and spent under all. For two hours and a half, out of the four and a half I was with her that night, either finger, tongue, or prick had been at her cunt and for one hour and a half a prick up it.
Impossible as it seems even to me as I write it — absurd, almost incredible — she must have spent or experienced some venereal orgasm — something which gave her sexual pleasure, which elicited her cries, sighs, and flesh quiverings, with other evidences of sexual delight, from twelve to twenty times. She may not have spent always, her vaginal juices may have re-fused to issue, their sources may have been exhausted after a time, yet pleasure she had I am sure. There was no need to sham, why should she, for she gained no more. The amusement was planned by us — so far as such a programme can be, jointly for our joint erotic delight. — Harry was but a cypher tho an active one, a pawn to be moved for our mutual delight, and nothing more — tho of course much to his delight — lucky youth.
I thought of the orgy perpetually until I saw her again three days after. I couldn't get to her before. — She looked smiling and fresh as ever, not a trace of fatigue was on her face, but she admitted that she was quite worn out that night, and had spent as nearly as she could tell, twelve or fifteen times, had laid a bed all next day, drank strong beef tea, and that such an-other night would almost kill her. — Never had she spent so much, never had had such a night before and should recollect it to the last day of her life. She hadn't seen Harry since and didn't want. — “We must not be long, Philip is coming to town tonight and will stop a fortnight, he'll be here in two hours, so get away soon.” Her cunt had got its cherry red on it again, its delicate scent filled my nostrils and excited my brain, I gamahuched it, fucked her twice and left. — As I drove off I saw a cab with portmanteaus on the top going in the direction of her house. — Instinct again helped me, and stopping my cab, telling the driver to follow me, I walked slowly back, and when in sight saw the cab stop at what I suppose was her door. — It was, I found afterwards, her protector, and I'd been nearly caught there.
[Lascivious orgies I've had of various sorts — maddening, exciting, all — but for a refined voluptuous evening none ever came up to this. — To the last day of my acquaintance with her I shall recollect it. — We often talked about it together for some years after. [I altered but very slightly the wording in place this narrative, omissions were not needed. Would that, could illustrate it by pencil.]
