Memoirs of Fanny Hill: A New and Genuine Edition from the Original Text (London, 1749)Cleland, John
General
Memoirs of Fanny Hill: A New and Genuine Edition from the Original Text (London, 1749)
Cleland, John
England -- Fiction; Erotic fiction; Prostitutes -- Fiction
For my part, I was transported, confused, and out of myself; feelings
so new were too much for me. My heated and alarmed senses were in a
tumult that robbed me of all liberty of thought; tears of pleasure
gushed from my eyes, and somewhat assuaged the fire that raged all over
me.
Phœbe, herself, the hackneyed, thorough-bred Phœbe, to whom all modes
and devices of pleasure were known and familiar, found, it seems, in
this exercise her those arbitrary tastes, for which there is no
accounting. Not that she hated men, or did not even prefer them to her
own sex; but when she met with such occasions as this was, a satiety of
enjoyments in the common road, perhaps, too a great secret bias,
inclined her to make the most of pleasure, wherever she could find it,
without distinction of sexes. In this view, now well assured that she
had, by her touches, sufficiently inflamed me for her purpose, she
rolled down the bed clothes gently, and I saw myself stretched naked,
my shift being turned up to my neck, whilst I had no power or sense to
oppose it. Even my growing blushes expressed more desire than modesty,
whilst the candle, left (to be sure not undesignedly) burning, threw a
full light on my whole body.
“No!” says Phœbe, “you must not, my sweet girl, think to hide all these
treasures from me. My sight must be feasted as my touch. I must devour
with my eyes this springing bosom. Suffer me to kiss it. I have not
seen it enough. Let me kiss it once more. What firm, smooth, white
flesh is here! How delicately shaped! Then this delicious down! Oh! let
me view the small, dear, tender cleft! This is too much, I cannot bear
it! I must! I must!” Here she took my hand, and in a transport carried
it where you will easily guess. But what a difference in the state of
the same thing! A spreading thicket of bushy curls marked the full
grown, complete woman. Then the cavity to which she guided my hand
easily received it; and as soon as she felt it within her, she moved
herself to and fro, with so rapid a friction, that I presently withdrew
it, wet and clammy, when instantly Phœbe grew more composed, after two
or three sighs, and heart-fetched Oh’s! and giving me a kiss that
seemed to exhale her soul through her lips, she replaced the
bed-clothes over us. What pleasure she had found I will not say; but
this I know, that the first sparks of kindling nature, the first ideas
of pollution, were caught by me that night; and that the acquaintance
and communication with the bad of our sex, is often as fatal to
innocence as all the seductions of the other. But to go on. When Phœbe
was restored to that calm, which I was far from the enjoyment of
myself, she artfully sounded me on all the points necessary to govern
the designs of my virtuous mistress on me, and by my answers, drawn
from pure undissembled nature, she had no reason but to promise herself
all imaginable success, so far as it depended on my ignorance, easiness
and warmth of constitution.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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