I had been to my stock brokers one day at the beginning of November this year, had luncheon in the City, called at a friend's office, and at about half past five o'clock got into a first class metropolitan railway going to the north west, where I was going to have a friendly dinner with a man. The carriages were full, in ours but one place was vacant, when just as the train started in rushed a woman and took it. She saw at once that she'd made a mistake, and smiled at no one in particular, looking anxiously, about, and as if she'd never been in such a carriage before. She then looked at every one of us in turn, with an expression on her face of, — “You know I'm in the wrong carriage and so do I.” — They were mostly elderly men, tired perhaps with business, and beyond giving a glance at her, took no further notice and read their newspapers. I kept my eyes on her for she was coarsely handsome, was opposite to me, and our knees nearly met. Soon I put foot and knee against hers, and a thrill of desire shot through me directly they touched. A desire to see, to feel her cunt, to fuck her, which like lightning goes thro me at times, and almost immediately when I see certain women, I believe that feeling creates a secret sympathy between us, and if the concupiscence in one or other of us be strong, that it is communicated to the other, if he or she be physically in a receptive state which is only if the blood be warm, the organs charged, and cock and cunt be ready for amourous endearments.
She was a well grown, good looking woman about twenty-three years old, of the costermonger class. She looked like one who sold goods from a barrow, or a very small shop. She was commonly but comfortably clad, not warmly enough perhaps for well to do people, but enough so for her class who don't feel cold as we do. She had a vulgar hat — half bonnet — on, yet not a flashy one, and a good, bright, short woolen shawl, over her shoulders. Her face was coarse but good featured, and a little browned (tho winter) by exposure. Her eyes were dark and full, her hair dark brown. She had a full bust, and I knew at a glance had a good fat bum and thighs, from the room she occupied on the seat. — Her hands were discolored with working, a color which would not readily wash off, the color of healthy labor, for she didn't look unclean at all; her nails were quite short and she'd a wedding ring on. I sat looking at her, and she at me at last, till leaning back, purposely I pushed forward both my knees, and touched hers, of which act she took notice, not being accustomed to such refinements. Then my prick began to swell, and she to fix her eyes on me. — Did she feel lewed at that moment also? — how I should like to know.
I began to scheme how to have her. How many times I have done so in public vehicles without fixed intention. It seemed absurd, but such seemingly improbable successes with women have fallen to my lot — and thro perseverance mainly I think — that I gave reins to my wishes. — Nil desperandum. Pushing myself more forward still, as if better to read a newspaper which I held in my hands, I got her legs well between mine and very gradually closed them on hers, till I could feel the warmth we gave each other. I watched her over the edge of my paper, and fancied I saw that she was conscious that I pressed her limbs purposely. A soft uneasy look came then into her eyes, and she looked round anxiously at the other travellers, twiddling at the same time her third class railway ticket nervously. I felt certain — instinct told me — that she knew I wanted her, and that I was kindling; in her desire for a prick, if not for mine; for lust is stirred in a woman, by knowing that a man wants to fuck her. Ostentatiously I put my hand under my great coat on to my ballocks, and moved it there restlessly, looking her full in the face whilst doing so. She turned her eyes away, — she'd not done so before, — and I felt then sure that she was thinking of my prick — I wonder what she thought.
Two or three stations were passed, passengers got out, and at length the carriage was empty all but the woman and myself. As he closed the door, the guard eying her, asked for her ticket, and then, “Wrong class — four pence extra — come out.” — She preparing to leave, said she'd got in in a hurry. — “Oh yes — come out — four pence.” “I haven't a farthing, I paid all I had for my ticket.” — She was quite agitated. — Interposing, I said that she got in as the train moved off, asked where she was going to, paid the collector the extra fare for her, and off went the train.
