The young woman in the adjoining house was skittish in manner. I neither recollect her name nor her face well, but only that she was a good-sized woman, not too stout, with a very small waist, and an exceedingly large backside. I turned her on to her belly at the bed-side, so as to comtemplate the beauties of her backside more conveniently. She objected, laughed, said, “Now you shan't do that,” but turned round at last, and wriggled her backside about in an unusual manner to me, then she asked me if I liked a tight fit. When I stood up to her backside and rubbed my prick against it, she said it would be a fiver. I was a little ashamed, and said I did not give more than a sovereign. “If you want what Lizzie Stanley would not let you do, I must have a fiver, and you won't tell any other woman, will you?” A light broke in on me. I questioned her, and found that the little bitch Stanley had given out that she had quarrelled with me because I wanted to bugger her. All the women in both houses knew it. My friend's thin woman knew it. I was much annoyed, fearing my friend might have had the lie told him. I swore and cursed at Stanley, — did she (the girl I was with) believe it? She did not know, — some gentlemen had queer fancies. Oh dear no! she had never done it, but she was hard up and would try for a five-pound note, — she heard it gave some women pleasure. I declined the invitation, having not a suspicion of a taste for such a tight fit, so we fucked and parted, nor do I recollect having her again. I told my friend what I had heard at the house some time afterward. He had then parted with his woman, but he seemed never to have heard of the lie Lizzie Stanley had circulated about me. Al-together that girl Stanley was, and is a mystery to me still.
Amidst all this saturnalia of cunt, I don't believe I ever did anything with one, excepting to feel and fuck it, though in attitudes varied. Recherchй erotic pleasures were not in my custom, and not even in my thoughts. Amusements with a man would have shocked me, had they been suggested. His spunk would have up-set my stomach to look at. To put into a cunt which an-other man had just quitted, would have revolted me; yet I was doomed to do all this, unpremeditatedly, on the spur of the moment and opportunity.
I lived then on the western outskirts of London where they were building on what had been and were still largely pleasant fields. About five minutes' walk from my house was a street made not five years before, and leading out from it a new road, a sixth of a mile long, connecting two main roads, and made to enable the fields on either side to be built upon. There were gas-lights at long intervals, just enough to en- courage people to use it at night. The carriage and foot-ways were of coarse gravel, and quite newly made.
Under wheel and foot these roads crunched as people went across them. At one end of the road was a new row of houses, the garden back-walls of which abutted on the open fields, and the side-walls of two formed the entrance to the road, — both houses just then were empty.
It was about eleven o'clock at night, windy and rainy at intervals, and there was a small moon hidden by thick clouds scudding across it. Sometimes there was a gleam of light, at other times all was dark. It was very windy as I came through the road for a short cut, after thinking whether it was safe or not, and just then I met a policeman at the further end, and bid him good night. The crunching of my footsteps on the newly-laid gravel annoyed me, both by its fatigue and noise, so I stepped on to the meadow-land which lay alongside it, and walked quite quietly. As I neared the street into which it led, I could distinguish what looked like a man and woman standing on the footpath close up against the garden side-wall of the empty house, and well away from lamps. Thought I, “They are fucking or finger-stinking,” so walked further from the footpath to pre-vent noise, and more slowly to see the fun. It excited me lewedly, for I wanted a woman.
