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
Thus we spent the whole afternoon, till supper time in a continued
circle of love delights, kissing, turtle-billing, toying, and all the
rest of the feast. At length, supper was served in, before which
Charles had, for I do not know what reason, slipped his clothes on; and
sitting down by the bed side, we made table and tablecloth of the bed
and sheets, whilst he suffered nobody to attend or serve but himself.
He ate with a very good appetite, and seemed charmed to see me eat. For
my part, I was so transported with the comparison of the delights I now
swam in, with the insipidity of all my past scenes of life, that I
thought them sufficiently cheap, at even the price of my ruin, or the
risk of their not lasting. The present possession was all my little
head could find room for.
We lay together that night, when, after playing repeated prizes of
pleasure, nature, overspent and satisfied, gave us up to the arms of
sleep: those of my dear youth encircled me, the consciousness of which
made even that sleep more delicious.
Late in the morning I waked, first; and observing my lover slept
profoundly, softly disengaged myself from his arms, scarcely daring to
breathe, for fear of shortening his repose; my cap, my hair, my shift,
were all in disorder, from the rufflings I had undergone; and I took
this opportunity to adjust and set them as well as I could: whilst,
every now and then, looking at the sleeping youth, with inconceivable
fondness and delight, and reflecting on all the pain he had put me to,
tacitly owned that the pleasure had overpaid me for my sufferings.
It was then broad day. I was sitting up in the bed, the clothes of
which were all tossed, or rolled off, by the unquietness of our
motions, from the sultry heat of the weather; nor could I refuse myself
a pleasure that solicited me so irresistibly, as this fair occasion of
feasting my sight with all those treasures of youthful beauty I had
enjoyed, and which lay now almost entirely naked, his shirt being
trussed up in a perfect wisp, which the warmth of the season and room
made me easy about the consequence of. I hung over him enamoured
indeed! and devoured all his naked charms with only two eyes, when I
could have wished them at least an hundred for the fuller enjoyment of
the gaze.
Oh! could I paint his figure as I see it now, still present to my
transported imagination! a whole length of an all perfect manly beauty
in full view. Think of a face without a fault, glowing with all the
opening bloom and verdant freshness of an age, in which beauty is of
either sex, and which the first down over his upper lip scarce began to
distinguish.
The parting of the double ruby pout of his lips seemed to exhale an air
sweeter and purer than what it drew in: ah! what violence did it not
cost me to refrain the so tempted kiss!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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