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Now my next essay was of a totally different character, and may, perhaps, be stigmatised by the fastidious reader as an escapade, degrading to one whose last liaison had been with the wife of a baronet, but to tell the truth, and judging cunt from a strictly philosophical standpoint, there is so little difference between a chambermaid and a countess, that it would take a very astute individual indeed to define it.
It is, perhaps, true, that the countess's opening may be, by frequent ablutions, kept sweeter, and the frangipani on her ladyship's fine cambric chemisette may possibly make the entrance more odoriferous for a tongue lick, but Dr Johnson's admirable impromptu definition will apply to the vagina of a Malayan or a Chinese girl equally with that of our own countrywomen. He said, if you remember, on the occasion when poor Oliver Goldsmith was troubled with the venereal, and came to him for sympathy -
'Cunt, and what of it? -
A nasty, slimy, slobbery slit,
Half an inch between arse and it;
If the bridge were to break,
[you] would be covered with-'
I have already in the course of this narrative mentioned the duenna who cleaned my chambers. She was a cast-off mistress of one of the old sergeants of the Inn, who had procured her this situation for life, and supplemented it with a small allowance, which enabled her to live in comparative comfort.
Two of her bastard daughters were married, and a younger one, the pretty one as she called her, had just returned home from boarding school, whither the old woman by dint of careful frugality had managed to send her.
She was barely turned sixteen, as upright as a dart, had a fine full face, with plenty of colour in it, and a form so shapely that I scarcely gave credence to the mother's statement that she was only sixteen. The old woman was very garrulous, annoyingly so sometimes, but on the subject of her darling daughter I used to let her tongue run on till further orders.
'She's a fine, strapping wench, sir, just the kind of girl I was at her age, though I think if anything she's a trifle more plump than I was.'
'Yes, by God, and so should I,' was my involuntary exclamation, as I looked at the aged frump's wizened features.
'I don't know what I shall do with her,' muttered her mother. 'I shall have to send her to service; this place won't keep two of us, and not only that, sir, I've been thinking that it's hardly the thing for a giddy girl like her to be brought into contact with gentlemen like you.'
Of course the mother was thinking of her own youthful transgressions with the sergeant, so I merely remarked that I was surprised such thoughts should run in her head, but I inwardly resolved that come what might I would see if a girl of sixteen with such a full fleshy face had got a cunt to match.
Noticing that the daughter was fond of dress, I bought a small parcel of ribbons one day at the draper's, and had them addressed to her without saying a word as to my having sent them.
The following morning I met her on the stairs, gaily decked out, and I asked her where she was going.
'Only for a walk in this silly old inn,' she replied. 'I have a beau, sir, an unknown beau, who has sent me all these beautiful ribbons, and a lot more besides, and I thought by going out he might see that I had appreciated his gift, that is if he were watching for me,' she added, with an arch smile.
'That's right, my girl, perhaps he will send you something else; by the way, what is your name?'
'Gerty,' said the young lady, smiling.
'Well, Gerty, you'll excuse my saying so, but that splendid ribbon with which you have decorated your hat, makes the hat look quite shabby.'
'Alas! sir, I know it, but Mother is poor, and I can't afford to buy another one just yet.
'If you'd promise not to tell your mother - promise me sacredly not on any account to tell her - I will take you to a shop where I saw a lovely one yesterday that would suit your style admirably, and I shall be only too happy to purchase it for you.
'Oh! sir, you are very kind, but I could not impose -'
'Tut, child, don't speak like that, but go out into the street and walk to the corner of Great Turnstile, and I will join you in three minutes.'
Of course I did this to avoid observation. Presently I went out myself, and took her to the very draper's where I had bought the ribbon. 'Good-morning, sir, I have now got that particular shade of ribbon you wanted yesterday.'
The cat was out of the bag; Gerty glanced quickly up at me, and I saw I was discovered.
'So you are the unknown beau,' she whispered, 'well, I am surprised.'
'And, I hope, pleased, too, Gerty?'
'Well, I hardly know,' she said, 'but what about the hat?'
To cut a long story short I rigged her up from top to toe, and before I left the shop I had expended nearly £20 on her.
'How on earth am I to account for having this to Mother?'
'We'll have it sent like the ribbons, and, of course, you can't form a guess where it came from. The shop people must put no address inside.' And giving all the necessary instructions, I shook hands with Gertrude and bade her good-morning.
In the evening a gentle tap at my door ushered in the young lady herself, who, closing it softly after her, said - 'Those things have come, sir, and Mother went on like anything, but I vowed I didn't know who had sent 'em, so she told me in that case I'd better thank God, and say no more about it.'
'Then it's all right,' I said, looking intently at her large, rounded bust, which, confined as it was by a tightly-fitting dress, showed itself to singular advantage.
'I'm afraid, sir,' she said, 'that I didn't thank you sufficiently this morning, and so I thought as mother has gone down to Peckham to see her brother, I'd call in and do it now.
'My dear Gertrude,' I said, 'there's only one way of showing your gratitude to me, and that way you are as yet I fear too young to understand. Come here, my dear.'
I was sitting by a blazing coal fire, and although I had not lit the gas the light was ample; she stepped forward and seemed, as I thought, rather timorous in her manner.
'My dear Gerty,' I said, placing my arm around her waist, 'you are heartily welcome to what my poor purse can afford. As for those pretty matters I purchased today, one kiss from those pouting lips will repay me a thousandfold.' And so saying I lifted her on to my knee and kissed her repeatedly. At first she tried to disengage herself, but soon I found my caresses were not unwelcome. Presently I began undoing the buttons of her frock, and although she fought against it at first, she gradually allowed herself to be convinced, and as her swelling bubs disclosed themselves to my view I felt transported.
'Oh! Mr Clinton, you will ruin me, I'm sure you will. Pray stop where you are, and do not go any further.'
Her beautiful little nipples, as the firelight threw them into relief on her lily-white breasts, looked like a pair of twin cherries, and before she could prevent me, my mouth had fastened on one, and I sucked it avidly.
'Oh! Mr Clinton, I shall faint. Do let me go. I never felt anything like this in my life.'
'My darling,' I said, suddenly placing my prick in her hand, 'did you ever feel anything like that?'
Her thumb and fingers clutched it with a nervous clasp, and I felt that her hands were moist with the hot dew of feverish perspiration. Before, however, I could prevent her, or, indeed, fathom her motives, she had slid from my grasp, and was kneeling on the floor between my extended legs.
'What is the matter, Gerty dear?' I said.
I got no answer, but the hand which still held my penis was brought softly forward, her mouth opened, and drawing back my foreskin, she tongued me with a sweet suck that almost drove me frantic.
For at least two minutes I lay back in the armchair, my brain in a delirium of delight, until, unable to bear it any longer, for she had begun to rack me off, I got my prick away, pushed back the armchair, and with mad, and, I may add, stupid haste, broke her maidenhead, and spent in her at the same instant with such force that for the moment I expected (contrary to all anatomical knowledge) to see the sperm spurting out of her mouth.
It would be unjust to Gertrude were I to accuse her of want of reciprocity, for my hearth-rug gave ample good proof that she was by no means wanting in juice, since to say it was swamped would be but mildly to describe its condition.
Hardly had Gertrude wiped out her fanny, and just as I was in the act of pouring her out a glass of brandy and water, to prevent the reaction which in a maid so young might, I thought, possibly set in, when, without announcing her entrance, the mother rushed into the room like a tigress. She had returned to fetch her latchkey.
'So this is what I brought you up for like a lady, is it,' she began; 'and this is the conduct of a gentleman that I thought was a real gentleman.
Don't deny it, you brazen bitch,' she continued, seeing that Gertrude was about to try a lame explanation, for she was quick-witted enough. 'I've got a nose of my own, and if ever there was a maidenhead cooked it's been done in this room since I've been out. Why, even the staircase smells fishy. I discard you forever. Perhaps the gentleman,' laying a sneering stress on the word, 'now that he's ruined you, will keep you. And she bounced out of the room.
I took the old woman at her word, and rented a little cottage at Kew, where I kept Gerty in style for about three months, and should have done so to the end of the chapter if I had not caught her one Saturday afternoon in flagrante delicto with one of the leading members of the London Rowing Club; so I gave her a cheque for £100, and she started as a dressmaker, or something of the kind, at which business she has I understand done very well.