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MY SECRET LIFE they mind—if you sit down to pee, you show your legs, and if you put on your stockings you show your thighs, then we both wash down to our waists, and if you slip off your chemise or night-gown you show yourself all over. Mary’s beautiful from head to foot, one morning in the summer, we sleeping in the same bed, were very hot. I got out to pee, we had kicked all the clothes off, Mary was laying on her back with night-clothes above her waist fast asleep, I could not help looking at her thighs, which were so large and white—white as snow.” “Had she much hair on her cunt?” said I. “What’s that to you?” said she laughing, but went on: “Oh! twice as much as I have, and of a light brown.” “I suppose her cunt is bigger than yours?” said I reflectively. “Well, perhaps it is”, said Charlotte, “she is a much bigger woman than me, what do you think?” I inclined to the opinion it must be, but had no experience to guide me; on the whole we agreed that it was likely to be bigger.

“Then”, said she, “I suppose some men have smaller things than yours?” I told her that as far as I knew they varied slightly, but only had knowledge of youthful pricks, and could not be certain whether they varied much when full grown or not. We went on about Mary. “I know I should like to be such a big, fine woman.” “But” said I, “I don’t like light hair, I like dark hair on a cunt, light hair can’t look well, I should think.” “I like her”, said Charlotte, “she is a nice woman, but often dull, she has no relatives in London, never says anything about them or herself, she used to have letters, and then often cried, she has none now; the other night she took me in her arms, gave me a squeeze and said, ‘Oh! if you were a nice young man now’, then —116—