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Chapter 37 - 37

I went back to London, and resumed my preparations. Penniless, I tried

to get money from my mother, but could not. I tried to feel our ugly

housemaid, who threatened to tell. Just then a friend lent me _Fanny

Hill_, how well I recollect that day, it was a sunshiny afternoon,

I devoured the book and its luscious pictures, and although I never

contemplated masturbation, lost all command of myself, frigged, and

spent over a picture as it lay before me. I did not know how to clean

the book and the table-cover.

 

Fascinated although annoyed with myself, I repeated the act till not a

drop of sperm would come; and the skin of my prick was sore. The next

day I had a splitting headache but read at intervals, and again frigged;

and did this for a week, till my eyes were all but dropping into my

head. In a fever and worn out; the doctor said I was growing too fast,

and ordered strong nourishment; but I used to take the infernal book

with me to bed, and lay reading it, twiddling my prick, and fearing to

consummate, knowing the state I was in. It was indeed almost impossible

to do it, and when emission came, it was accompanied by a fearful aching

in my testicles.

 

My friend had his book back, my erotic excitement ceased, I grew

stronger, felt ashamed of myself, and soon found a new excitement.

 

I had a friend who like me was intended for the Army, his father was a

gun manufacturer. The eldest son died, and the old man saying that five

thousand a year should not be lost to the family, made his other son--my

friend--go into the business. He resisted, but had no alternative but

to consent. Their dwelling-house was just by ours, but the old man now

insisted on his son residing largely at the manufactory where he invited

me to stay at times with him, which I did.

 

Several houses adjoining belonged to the old man, at the East-End of

London, where the manufactory was. Some faced an important thoroughfare,

the rest faced two other streets, and at the back, a place with out a

thoroughfare, on one side of which was the manufactory and workmen's

entrance; on the other side stables. The whole property formed a large

block.

 

The house faced the better street, the family had for forty years lived

in it before they became rich, and it was replete with comfort. The old

man had since lived there principally, for his love was in his business,

and he had made all arrangements for his convenience. He had a private

staircase leading from a sitting-room into the manufactory, and could go

into the warehouse, or the back street, or out of the front door of the

house unnoticed. The people employed, never knew when to expect him. He

was a regular Tartar, but for all that a kind-hearted man.

 

There now lived in the house an old servant with her sister, who had

been many years in the family. One was married to a foreman in whom his

master had much confidence; these three were in fact in charge of the

premises, although nominally the keyes were given up to my friend whom

we will call Henry. The old man wished his son to be happy, allowed

friends to visit him, there was good wine, put out by the old man in

small quantities from time to time, good food, good attendance, and all

to make things comfortable; but the old man resolutely forbade his son

to be out later than eleven o'clock, and kept him as my mother kept me,

almost without money. I expect that the old servants were told to keep

an eye on the doings of Henry.

 

The basement was used as store-room for muskets, put into wooden boxes

which stood in long rows upon each other like coffins. It was a large

place and originally only went under the factory, but the old gentleman

gradually as he acquired the adjacent houses, let them, but retained

most of the basements, so that his stores ran not only under the

premises he occupied, but largely under half a dozen other houses of

which he only let the shops and upper portions. On four sides this large

basement had glimpses of light let into it, by gratings in the footways

of the streets.

 

At one end and on the principal street was a row of windows, beneath

what was then a first class linen-draper's shop--first class I mean for

the East-End--a large place for those days, and always full. Women used

to stand by dozens at a time, looking into the shop windows which were

of large plate-glass--a great novelty in those days--people waiting for

omnibusses used also to stand up against the shop.

 

Henry and I were old school friends, I had seen and felt his cock, he

mine; I had not been with him an hour before he said, "When the workmen

go to dinner, I will show you more legs than your ever saw in your

life." "Girls?" said I. "Yes, I saw up above the garters of a couple

of dozen yesterday in an hour." "Could you see their cunts?" "I did not

quite, but nearly of one," said he. I thought he was bragging, and was

glad when twelve o'clock came.

 

At that hour down we went, through the basement stored with muskets;

it seemed dark as we entered, but soon we saw streams of light coming

through the windows at the end; they had not been cleaned for years. We

rubbed the glass and looked up. Above us was a flock of women's legs

of all sizes and shapes flashing before us, thick and thin in wonderful

variety. We could see them by looking up, it being bright above; but

dark and dusty below, they could not by looking down see us, through the

half cleaned windows; or notice round clean spots on the glass, through

which two pairs of young eyes almost devoured the limbs of those who

stood over them.

 

As our only way lay through the work-shop and we did not wish it known

that we were there (there was no business done there, unless arms were

being stored or taken out), we went back before the workmen returned

from their meals; but for several days did we go into the place,

gloating over such of the women's charms as we could discern; legs we

saw by the hundreds, garters and parts of the thighs we saw by scores:

quite enough to make young blood randy to madness, but the shadowy mass

between the thighs we could not get a glimpse of.

 

"There are vaults," said I, "if there, we could see right up, and be

at the back of the women." We tried unused keys to find one to open

the door, and at length to our intense delight it unclosed. We stepped

across the little open space under the gratings into the empty vaults,

and there arranging to take our turns of looking up at the most likely

spots, we put out our heads and took our fill at gazing. We were right

under the women, who as they looked into the shop windows, jutting out

their bums in stooping, tilted their petticoats exactly over our heads.

If there was no carriage passing, we could at times hear what they said,

but that was rarely the case.

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