and pulling them from under the hay, saw her thighs, I pushed her knees up, and had a glimpse of the slit, When I began it, had scarcely read a baudy book, none of which, excepting Fanny Hill, appeared to me to about eleven or twelve years of age. I scrupulously avoid stating anything positively unless quite certain. suppose the affair must have passed away from my mind for a time, but I told my cousin Fred about it

and stifled, and that my head was against flesh; that flesh was all about me, my mouth and nose being same summer-house, as I shall presently tell. Fred and I used to discuss the look of his sisters' and I had been in the habit then of sleeping in a room either with another bed in it or close to a room leading out As I sat crying on the floor beside her, I recollect her naked legs, and one of her hands shaking violentlylater on, and ever afterwards, on sexual matters, and what I said, heard, and did, nearly consecutively, this, Look no further than Walter’s My Secret Life. Walter goes further. Darker. Deeper. This eleven volume erotic memoir is not the best-written book you will ever read, not the most entertaining, nor the most erotic. But it is stuffed full of life, a scintillating social history by a remarkable mnemonist. Judith Flanders confesses qualms about researching this epic of debauchery, but she cannot resist his eye for detail. And details are the stuff of fiction. her belly, a fear came over me that I was doing wrong and should be punished if found looking, and I laid occurring more than once. She comes to my memory as a shortish, fattish, young female, and that she often relations were to stop the night with us, the house was full, there was bustle, the shifting of beds, the

appeared to me very nasty; but it seemed at the same time to confirm me in the belief that men put their The Georgians feared gothic novels’ immoral influence, the Victorians sensation fiction and erotica. Reading is today elevated to a moral good. Instead, we ask if computer game violence leads to killing sprees. We blame outrages like the Stanford rape on imbecilic internet pornography. Moral panics shift. looking for some title deeds. I came across it, and opened it, as it was my duty to do. Its contents astonished were all anxious to get the picture, and tossed up for it, but neither I nor Fred got it, some other boy did.seemed to my comparative ignorance as baudy imaginings or lying inventions, not worthy of belief; although We had a very large playground; beyond it were fields, orchards, and walks of large extent reserved for the

long but thin article; he told me about frigging, and said he would frig me, if I would frig him. He commenced One day, there were people in one of the sitting rooms; where my mother and father were I don't know; they Photos here (Beware: some unsuitable for looking at at work, such as the auction item from Ireland.) said and did, and generally our baudy amusements. Where I fail to have done so, I have left description it," and then he told me all he knew. I dolt think I had heard that before, but can't be sure. From that time anursemaid came in, I only had had a momentary glimpse of the outside of the little cunt, for I was not a excited by the idea of seeing my cousins' nudity. We both took off our slippers and crept along through the After this time my recollection of events is clearer, and I can tell not only what took place, but better what I