Page:MySecretLifeVol1(1888).djvu/119

MY SECRET LIFE of steps, at the end of a covered passage, which could be seen from one point only in the garden; down there, anyone standing was out of sight. If all was clear I used to ring the parlour bell, ask for something, and make a sign; when she thought it safe, there she would go, I into the garden, to where I could see into the passage by the side of the garden stairs. If I saw her, or heard “ahem”, down I went into the privy, and was up her cunt in a second, standing against the wall, and shoving to get our spent over, as if my life depended on it; this was uncomfortable, but it had its charm. We left off doing it in the privy, being nearly caught one day there.

We thought cook was upstairs mother was out, I was fucking her, when the cook knocked saying, “make haste Charlotte, I want to come.” We had just spent, she was so frightened I thought she was fainting, but she managed to say “I cannot.” “Do”, said cook, “I am ill.” “So am I”, said Charlotte. Said cook, “I can sit on the little seat.” “Go to misses’s closet, she’s out.” Off cook went, out we came, and never fucked in that place again; one day I did her on the kitchen table, and several times on the dining-room table.

We in fact did it everywhere else, and often enough for my health, for I was young, weak and growing, and it was the same with her. The risks we ran were awful, but we loved each other with all our souls. Both young, both new at the work, both liking it, it was rarely we got more than just time to get our fucking over, and clothes arranged before we had to separate, for her to get to her duties. Many times I have seen her about the house, cunt full and with the heightened colour, and brilliant eyes, of a woman who had just been —112—