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MY SECRET LIFE silk stockings, and beautiful boots. I had had the clean- est, nicest women, but they were servants, with the dress and manners of servants. This woman seemed elegance itself to them. A nice pair of arms were dis- closed, a big pair of breasts ﬂashed out, a glimpse of a ﬁne thigh was shown, and as her things dropped off, and she stopped to pick them up, with her face towards me; her laced chemise dropped, opened, and I saw darkness at the end of the vista between her two breasts.

A pull up of the stockings and garters, disclosed other glimpses of the thighs and surroundings. Then she sat on the pot, pissed and looked at me, whilst I sat in fear, saying nothing, doing nothing, my cock shrivelled to the size of a gooseberry, and longing to go away. The whole aﬁair was unlike anything I had seen or dreamed of, a quiet business-like, yet voluptu- ous air was about it, which confused me; it affected my senses deliciously in one way, but all the horrors about gay women were conjured up in my imagination at the same time. I was intensely nervous.

She seeing me so quiet, sat herself on my knee, and began unbuttoning my trowsers. I declined it. “Are you ill 1’" said she. I told her no, scarcely knowing what she meant. Then she unbuttoned me in spite of my objec- tion, laid hold of my little doodle, and satisﬁed herself that it was all right I suppose; for she hurt me; I could not tell why she squeezed it, for I did not know then the ways of gay women. The squeeze gave me a voluptuous sensation, although fear had still hold of me; then she kissed, and fondled me, but it was useless. Then she said, “You have never had a woman before I see.” My pride was wounded, and I told her I had many. —285—