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
But guess my surprise, when I saw the lazy young rogue lie down on his
back, and gently pull down Polly upon him, who giving way to his
humour, stradled, and with her hands conducted her blind favourite to
the right place; and following her impulse, ran directly upon the
flaming point of this weapon of pleasure, which she staked herself
upon, up pierced, and infixed to the extremest hair breadth of it: thus
she sat on him a few instants, enjoying and relishing her situation,
whilst he toyed with her provoking breasts. Sometimes she would stoop
to meet his kiss: but presently the sting of pleasure spurred them up
to fiercer action; then began the storm of heaves, which, from the
undermost combatant, were thrust at the same time, he crossing his
hands over her, and drawing her home to him with a sweet violence: the
inverted strokes of anvil over hammer soon brought on the critical
period, in which all the signs of a close conspiring extasy informed us
of the point they were at.
For me, I could bear to see no more; I was so overcome, so inflamed at
the second part of the same play, that, mad to an intolerable degree, I
hugged, I clasped Phœbe, as if she had wherewithal to relieve me.
Pleased however with, and pitying the taking she could feel me in, she
drew towards the door, and opening it softly as she could, we both got
off undiscovered, and reconducted me to my own room, where, unable to
keep my legs, in the agitation I was in, I instantly threw myself down
on the bed, where I lay transported, though ashamed at what I felt.
Phœbe lay down by me, and asked me archly, “if, now that I had seen the
enemy, and fully considered him, I was still afraid of him? or did I
think I could come to a close engagement with him?” To all which, not a
word on my side; I sighed, and could scarcely breathe. She takes hold
of my hand, and having rolled up her own petticoats, forced it half
strivingly, towards those parts, where, now grown more knowing, I
missed the main object of my wishes; and finding not even the shadow of
what I wanted, where every thing was so flat, or so hollow, in the
vexation I was in at it. I should have withdrawn my hand, but for fear
of disobliging her. Abandoning it then entirely to her management, she
made use of it as she thought proper, to procure herself rather the
shadow than the substance of any pleasure. For my part, I now pined for
more solid food, and promised tacitly to myself that I would not be put
off much longer with this foolery of woman to woman, of Mrs. Brown did
not soon provide me with the essential specific. In short, I had all
the air of not being able to wait the arrival of my lord B——, though he
was now expected in a very fews days: nor did I wait for him, for love
itself took charge of the disposal of me, in spite of interest, or
gross lust.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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