— to feel my prick up her and his sperm all round it.
— H. put her hand to feel, then clasping my bum, and heaving her arse. — “Ohoo — fuck” she cried and glued her mouth to mine. Furiously our backsides oscillated, far too soon my sperm rose. “Hurt me — shove hard,” she whispered, heaving her cunt up, and the next minute both were spending, her ecstasy as great as mine. Then quickly back she went to him, her cunt full as before, her motte and thighs wet with our essence. — “Make him fuck you in it.” — “If I can, but he likes it washed before he does me again” were the last words. She closed their door with a bang, cunningly giving the handle a turn so that it was left ajar, but so close that I could see nothing. To facilitate that a fortnight before she'd cut away, at eye height, a slip off of one edge, and painted it afterwards. We had arranged this together after the manner at the French lapunar. She laid down on the bed for me to see her, then I for her to see me, and we moved her bed a little to give the best view of those upon it, both delighted at the dodge. I couldn't see their heads when they were fucking, but saw all from their breasts downwards. — Now she took the side furthest off, and nearer the fireplace, and he turning to her had his back to me. — “Ahem” — I pushed the door slightly open and saw them both well.
She began frigging him, then he felt her. “You've not washed.” — “No, how could I? — I will.” — “My spunk's on your thighs.” — “Yes, did you spend?” — “My ballocks were damned full,” — said he with a coarse laugh. — Both laughed, and went on talking about some woman who had one of the smallest cunts he'd ever fucked, and about some swell Paphians she had known formerly, whilst she went on frigging him till, “It's stiff, let's do it.” — “Wash it.” — She got up, and holding the ewer, — “There's no water.” — “Ring for Sally and I'll show her my prick” — said he laughing and handling it. — “I shan't — you'd better not — never mind washing” — getting on the bed again and frigging his tool. — In another minute after lewed chat he mounted her, she'd pulled her chemise off and tried to pull off his shirt. Saying it was cold, he refused but tucked it up to his waist.
They were fucking in an instant. Is the spectacle of even a handsome couple fucking beautiful or not? — Is the sight of a beautiful creature, all modesty and grace — whom one has walked, talked, and danced with, to be admired when on her back, heaving her buttocks up, her thighs high and round the man's whilst under is a thick gristly stem protruding from his belly, and going like a steam piston in and out of a bush of hair round her cunt — is it beautiful? Both rumps jog, and heave, and thrust and meet, till with sighs and murmurs both are quiet. Is it a spectacle beautiful or not? — No. — Yet an entrancing one. — One that no man or woman would hesitate to look at, enjoy, and envy, none whose cunt wouldn't yearn — whose prick wouldn't stiffen at the sight. — Yet it's not beautiful, tho exciting, stimulating, entrancing to all the senses.
This was really a fine couple I must say, much as I disliked his vulgarity, but to know that that big tube, with its inner tube of discharge, was thrusting up her tube, with the intensest pleasure to both, made my prick, without frigging, stand till I heard their murmurs, knew that their pleasure was over.
He rolled off of her, she didn't hurry him. “Get me a glass of whiskey and water.” — “I shan't, you've had enough, get it yourself in the kitchen if you want it, don't make a noise, I don't want my sister to know a man's here.” The scout — Mrs. * * * — took care the man shouldn't know I was there. Hastily he put on his clothes and went off. “Hish” said she as he went downstairs and she waited till he got to the kitchen.
In she came and I looked at her sexual treasure. Sperm is now to me clean, wholesome. It's the out-come of life — the issue and cause of the greatest human pleasure to giver and receiver. — I no longer mind my fingers being in it, but like to feel a cunt which is lubricated with it. — I opened hers, felt up it, wiped my fingers on my balls, and on her motte — the salacity of the act delighted me. “You beast, you,” said she but looking pleased with the lascivious act. Then up into her my prick went, and prick and cunt then revelled in the unction and the thrusts, and the lubricated friction of our movements, till both sobbed out our joy in the delicious crisis — her cunt discharged, my balls shot forth their sperm, and we mixed this essence of male and female life in her sweet channel — oh happy woman!
