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
Here was no room either to sit or lie, but making me stand with my back
towards the door, she lifted up my petticoats, and with her busy
fingers fell to visit and explore that part of me, where I was
perfectly sick and ready to die with desire; that the bare touch of her
finger, in that critical place, had the effect of a fire to a train,
and her hand instantly made her sensible to what a pitch I was wound
up, and melted by the sight she had thus procured me. Satisfied then
with her success, in allaying a heat that would have made me impatient
of seeing the continuation of the transactions between our amourous
couple, she brought me again to the crevice, so favourable to our
curiosity.
We had certainly been but a few instants away from it, and yet on our
return we saw everything in good forwardness for recommencing the
tender hostilities.
The young foreigner was sitting down, fronting us, on the coach, with
Polly upon one knee, who had her arms round his neck, whilst the
extreme whiteness of her skin was not undelightfully contrasted by the
smooth glossy brown of her lover’s.
But who could count the fierce, unnumbered kisses given and taken? In
which I could often discover their mouths were double tongued, and
seemed to favour the mutual insertion with the greatest gust and
delight.
In the meantime, his red-headed champion, that had so lately fled the
pit, quelled and abashed, was now recovered to the top of his
condition, perked and crested up between Polly’s thighs, who was not
wanting, on her part, to coax and keep it in good humour, stroking it,
with her head down, and receiving even its velvet tip between the lips
of not its proper mouth: whether it was to render it more glib and easy
of entrance, I could not tell; but it had such an effect, that the
young gentleman seemed by his eyes, that sparkled with more excited
lustre, and his inflamed countenance, to receive increase of pleasure.
He got up, and taking Polly in his arms, embraced her, and said
something too softly for me to hear, leading her withal to the foot of
the couch, and taking delight to slap her thighs and posteriors with
that stiff sinew of his, which hit them with a spring that he gave it
with his hand, and made them resound again, but her about as much as he
meant to hurt her, for she seemed to have as frolic a taste as himself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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