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The 'gamahuching' process should only be employed as a preliminary and never should be permitted to go to the extent of more than starting the tap. No woman living is able to withstand a moist and well-trained tongue. Even those in whom desire has long been dead have been known to shriek for the relief only an erect penis can afford. Jack Wilton, the greatest essayist on cunt in an analytical form who ever lived, goes further, and even says - 'a judicious tongue can galvanise into life a female corpse'.
This, of course, I do not admit, but there is a well-authenticated instance of a Somersetshire farmer's wife, who had fallen into a trance and was believed by all her neighbours to be dead, being recalled to life simply through the husband giving her fanny one last loving lick.
It is astonishing how prevalent the habit of gamahuching has become in England, and I would, while touching on it, maintain that there is nothing unnatural in it.
A tongue, soft and fleshy, fits in the vagina as though made for it, and though it can only titillate the clitoris, it serves the useful office of avant-courier to the prick. The proof, if proof were wanting, that there is a distinct physical sympathy between the latter and the tongue, is that in the case of syphilis the tongue is affected almost as soon as the penis shows signs of having made a mistake. The proof again of its being natural to animal life is the fact that if one carefully observes the collection in the zoo it will be seen that when the beasts are in dalliance with one another the male invariably licks over the vagina of the female before proceeding to business.
This is my own observation, but if my readers doubt the statement, a run up to Regent's Park and a few hours in front of the cages will generally corroborate it. I think to watch a man 'gamahuching' a woman is more exciting than to see her being absolutely poked.
I remember staying on one occasion at a hotel in Paddington where a very pretty chambermaid showed me my room. I had not extinguished my candle more than five minutes before I heard a woman's voice in the next room - 'Are you going to sit up reading all night?'
I couldn't for the life of me understand this, and thought the wall must be very thin, but it arose from the fact that some distance up the oaken partition there was a hole, caused through a good sized knot in the wood falling out, and although this hole had a coat hanging in front of it, I very speedily discovered it. It did not take me very long to remove the coat, and I saw the welcome light gleam through. Then, standing on a chair, I applied my eye to the hole, and saw a man leisurely undressing, and a ladylike woman, about thirty, with a splendid head of hair, lying quietly in bed awaiting him.
Now, I thought, there is going to be some fun, when a slight knock at my own door caused me to get down and open it.
'A telegram came for you two hours ago, sir, and they forgot to give it to you at the desk.'
'One moment, my girl,' I said, hastily slipping on my trousers and lighting my candle. The chambermaid was on the point of bolting. 'Don't go, my girl,' I said, 'there may be an answer to this; wait until I read it, and listen' - then, lowering my voice to a significant whisper - 'if you want to see a sight that will interest and amuse you, get on that chair and peep through the hole.'
'I daren't, sir, I should lose my situation if anyone were to know I was in a gentleman's bedroom.'
'I'll swear I won't harm you,' I said, and I really didn't intend to, for although the girl was a perfect little beauty, only sixteen and a half, I had done a long railway journey that day, and felt knocked up.
The girl hesitated for a moment, but as sincerity was prominent in the tones of my voice, and she was burning with curiosity to see what was going on, she quietly stepped into the room, and I helped her on to the chair. 'Stay,' I whispered. 'The candle must be extinguished, or they may see you, if they have put theirs out.'
So saying I placed the room in darkness, and there was the light streaming through the hole. Mary, for such the soubrette called herself, immediately peeped.
For at least ten seconds she never stirred, then, getting another chair, I placed it by the side of Mary's and stood on it, with one arm around her waist. What was going on in the next room I could only guess by the palpitation of Mary's heart. At last I said, 'May I peep, my dear?'
'Oh sir, wait a moment, I never saw such a thing in my life, do wait a moment.
'Certainly, my angel, if you wish it,' I said; then taking her hand, which was trembling all over, I gently allowed it to rest on my prick, over which by this time I had lost complete control.
She clutched it wildly, and passed her hand all around the balls, then pulled the skin back, and so proved to me in less than three seconds that her exclamation just now might be a little bit qualified.
'Oh sir,' she said at length as I passed my hands up her petticoats and found her quim quite damp with excitement, 'I shall be missed downstairs. I must be going, but I should like to see the end of this.'
'You shall feel the end of this,' I said, 'and that's much more to the purpose. So, helping her down, I lifted her neatly on my bed, and planted it with such force that she cried out with the pain. But, whenever I have a new thing in cunts, I am always perfectly reckless of consequences, and so I gave no heed to her ejaculations, but fucked her to the bitter end.
Personally, I enjoyed it thoroughly, but I question very much whether she did, as the next morning she came to see me in a most disconsolate manner, and said she was afraid she would have to go to the hospital as I had completely split her cunt; but a 'tenner' soon squared that, and I would remark here that I have introduced this incident merely to show that the sight of a woman being 'gamahuched' is far more exciting than witnessing an ordinary fuck.
Had it been the latter that Mary had glanced at when she mounted the chair, she might have felt a passing interest, but it would have been no novelty. She would probably have called me a dirty beast, fled the apartment, and had a jolly good laugh over the adventure with the cook, but being a new sensation she was glued to the aperture, got excited, and had the implement put in her hand to quiet her.
It is true that she was a bad judge of size, or she might have hung back, but a split-up cunt is no great misfortune, since once the soreness has passed away it enables a woman to enter upon any amorous encounter without the fear of meeting a foe too big for a fair fight.