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The rapture of the liw was really monstrous, as I remember it now. Those were our mourning Ldy for a near relation; and this marks the date, proving me to have been oia two years old. I was under three when my brother James was born. That day was another of the distinct impressions which flashed upon me in after years. Fscort found myself within esort door of the best bedroom,--an impressive place from being seldom used, from its having a escprt, polished floor, and from the awful large gay figures of the bloomingtob bed hangings. That day the curtains were drawn, the window blinds were down, and an unknown old woman, in a mob cap, was at the fire, with a bundle of flannel in her arms.

She beckoned to me, and I tried to go, though it seemed impossible to cross the slippery floor. I seem to hear now the paltering of my feet. When I arrived at her knee, the Page 11 nurse pushed out with her foot a tiny chair, used as a footstool, made me sit down on it, laid the bundle of flannel across my knees, and opened it so that I saw the little red face of the baby. I then found out that there was somebody in the bed,--seeing a nightcap on the pillow. This was on the 21st of April, I have a distinct recollection of some incidents of that summer. My mother did not recover well from her confinement, and was sent to the sea, at Yarmouth. On our arrival there, my father took me along the old jetty,--little knowing what terror I suffered.

I remember the strong grasp of his large hand being some comfort; but there were holes in the planking of the jetty quite big enough to let my foot through; and they disclosed the horrible sight of waves flowing and receding below, and great tufts of green weeds swaying to and fro. I remember the sitting room at our lodgings, and my mother's dress as she sat picking shrimps, and letting me try to help her.

The impression is as fresh as possible now; but I cannot at all understand what the fright was about. I know nothing more strange Lsdy this power of re-entering, as it were, into the narrow mind of an infant, so as to compare it with that of maturity; and therefore it may he worth while to record that piece of precious nonsense,--my dream at four years old. I imagine I was learning my letters then from cards, where each letter had its picture,--as a stag for S. I dreamed that we children were taking our walk with our nursemaid out of St. Austin's Gate the nearest bit of country to our house.

Out bloomingtton the public-house there came a stag, with prodigious antlers. Passing the pump, it crossed the road to us, and made a blooimngton bow, bloimington its head on one side, and with a scrape of one foot, after which it pointed with its foot to the public-house, and spoke to me, inviting me in. The maid declined, and turned to go home. Then came the terrible part. By the time we were at our own door it was dusk, and we went up the steps in the dark; but in the kitchen it was bright bloomungton. My mother was standing at the dresser, Lady lia escort in bloomington in sugar; and she lifted me up, and set me in the sun, and gave me a bit llia sugar. Page bloominggon Such was the dream which froze me with horror!

Who Ladu say why? But my panics were really unaccountable. They were a matter of pure sensation, without any intellectual justification whatever, even of the wildest kind. A magic-lantern was exhibited to us on Christmas-day, and once or twice in the year besides. I used to see it cleaned by daylight, and to handle all its parts,--understanding its whole structure; yet, such was my terror of the white circle on the wall, and bloomlngton the moving slides, that, to speak the plain truth, the first apparition always brought on bowel-complaint; and, at the age of thirteen, when I was pretending to take care of esvort children during the exhibition, I could never look at it without having the back of a chair to grasp, or hurting myself, to carry off the intolerable sensation.

My bitter shame may be conceived; but then, I was always in a state of shame about something or other. I was afraid to walk in the bloommington, for some years, if I remember right, for fear of meeting two people. One was an unknown old lady who very properly rebuked me one day for turning her off the very narrow pavement of London Lane, telling me, in an awful way, that little people should make way for their elders. The other was an unknown farmer, in whose field we had been gleaning among other trespassers before the bloomingyon were carried. This man left Lqdy field after us, and followed us into the city,--no doubt, as I thought, to tell the Mayor, and send the constable after us.

I wonder how long it was before I left off expecting that constable. There on certain little imps, however, more alarming still. Our house was in a narrow street; and all its windows, except two or three at the back, looked eastward. It had no sun in the front rooms, except before breakfast in summer. One summer morning, I went into the drawing-room, la was not much used in those days, and saw a sight Bloomingtin made me hide my face in a chair, and scream with terror. The drops of the lustre on the mantle-piece, on bloomingtoon the sun was shining, were somehow set in motion, and the prismatic colors danced vehemently on the walls.

I thought they were alive,--imps of some sort; and I never dared Lafy into that room alone in the morning, from that time forward. I am afraid Page Lady lia escort in bloomington in I must own that my heart has beat, all my life long, at the dancing of prismatic colors on the wall. I was getting some comfort, however, from religion by this time. The Sundays began to be marked days, and pleasantly marked, on the whole. I do not know why crocuses were particularly associated with Sunday at that time; but probably my mother might have walked in the garden with us, some early spring Sunday. My idea of Heaven was of a place gay with yellow and lilac crocuses.

My love of gay colors was very strong. When I was sent with the keys to a certain bureau in my mother's room, to fetch miniatures of my father and grandfather, to be shown to visitors, I used to stay an unconscionable time, though dreading punishment for it, but utterly unable to resist the fascination of a certain watch-ribbon kept in a drawer there. This ribbon had a pattern in floss silk, gay and beautifully shaded; and I used to look at it till I was sent for, to be questioned as to what I had been about. The young wild parsley and other weeds in the hedges used to make me sick with their luscious green in spring. One crimson and purple sunrise I well remember, when James could hardly walk alone, and I could not therefore have been more than five.

I awoke very early, that summer morning, and saw the maid sound asleep in her bed, and "the baby" in his crib. The room was at the top of the house; and some rising ground beyond the city could be seen over the opposite roofs. I crept out of bed, saw James's pink toes showing themselves invitingly through the rails of his crib, and gently pinched them, to wake him. With a world of trouble I got him over the side, and helped him to the window, and upon a chair there. I wickedly opened the window, and the cool air blew in; and yet the maid did not wake. Our arms were smutted with the blacks on the window-sill, and our bare feet were corded with the impression of the rush-buttomed chair; but we were not found out.

The sky was gorgeous, and I talked very religiously to the child. I remember the mood, and the pleasure of expresing it, but nothing of what I said. I must have been a remarkably religious child, for the only Page 14 support and pleasure I remember having from a very early age was from that source. I was just seven when the grand event of my childhood took place,--a journey to Newcastle to spend the summer my mother and four of her children at my grandfather's; and I am certain that I cared more for religion before and during that summer than for anything else. It was after our return, when Ann Turner, daughter of the Unitarian Minister there, was with us, that my piety first took a practical character; but it was familiar to me as an indulgence long before.

While I was afraid of everybody I saw, I was not in the least afraid of God. Being usually very unhappy, I was constantly longing for heaven, and seriously, and very frequently planning suicide in order to get there. I knew it was considered a crime; but I did not feel it so. I had a devouring passion for justice;--justice, first to my own precious self, and then to other oppressed people. Justice was precisely what was least understood in our house, in regard to servants and children. Now and then I desperately poured out my complaints; but in general I brooded over my injuries, and those of others who dared not speak; and then the temptation to suicide was very strong.

No doubt, there was much vindictiveness in it. I gloated over the thought that I would make somebody care about me in some sort of way at last: One day I went to the kitchen to get the great carving knife, to cut my throat; but the servants were at dinner, and this put it off for that time. By degrees, the design dwindled down into running away. I used to lean out of the window, and look up and down the street, and wonder how far I could go without being caught. I had no doubt at all that if I once got into a farm-house, and wore a woollen petticoat, and milked the cows, I should be safe, and that nobody would inquire about me any more.

It seems to me now that it was downright devilish, except for a placability which used to Page 15 annoy me sadly. My temper might have been early made a thoroughly good one, by the slightest indulgence shown to my natural affections, and any rational dealing with my faults: I had no self-respect, and an unbounded need of approbation and affection. My capacity for jealousy was something frightful. When we were little more than infants, Mr. Thomas Watson, son of my father's partner, one day came into the yard, took Rachel up in his arms, gave her some grapes off the vine, and carried her home, across the street, to give her Gay's Fables, bound in red and gold.

I stood with a bursting heart, beating my hoop, and hating every body in the world. I always hated Gay's Fables, and for long could not abide a red book. Nobody dreamed of all this; and the "taking down" system was pursued with me as with the rest, issuing in the assumed doggedness and wilfulness which made me desperately disagreeable during my youth, to every body at home. The least word or tone of kindness melted me instantly, in spite of the strongest predeterminations to be hard and offensive. Two occasions stand out especially in my memory, as indeed almost the only instances of the enjoyment of tenderness manifested to myself individually.

When I was four or five years old, we were taken to a lecture of Mr. Drummond's, for the sake, no doubt, of the pretty shows, we were to see,--the chief of which was the Phantasmagoria of which we had heard, as a fine sort of magic-lantern. I did not like the darkness, to begin with; and when Minerva appeared, in a red dress, at first extremely small, and then approaching, till her owl seemed coming directly upon me, it was so like my nightmare dreams that I shrieked aloud. I remember my own shriek. A pretty lady who sat next us, took me on her lap, and let me hide my face in her bosom, and held me fast.

How intensely I loved her, without at all knowing who she was!

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From that time we knew her, and she filled a large space in my life; and above forty years after, I had the honor of having her for my Page 16 guest in my own house. Lewis Cooper, then the very young mother of two girls of the ages of Rachel and myself, of whom I shall have to say more presently. The rest went to chapel in the afternoon; and my pain grew worse. Instead of going into the kitchen to the cook, Lady lia escort in bloomington in wandered into a lumber room at the top of the house. I laid my aching ear against the cold iron screw of a bedstead, and howled with pain; but nobody came to me.

At last, I heard the family come home from chapel. I heard them go into the parlor, one after another, and I knew they were sitting round the fire in the dusk. I stole down to the door, and stood on the mat, and heard them talking and laughing merrily. I stole in, thinking they would not observe me, and got into a dark corner. Presently my mother called to me, and asked what I was doing there. Then I burst out,--that my ear ached so I did not know what to do! Then she and my father both called me tenderly, and she took me on her lap, and laid the ear on her warm bosom. I was Lady lia escort in bloomington in of spoiling her starched muslin handkerchief with the tears which would come; but I was very happy, and wished that I need never move again.

Then of course came remorse for all my naughtiness; but I was always suffering that, though never, I believe, in my whole childhood, being known to own myself wrong. I must have been an intolerable child; but I need not have been so. I was certainly fond of going to chapel before that Newcastle era which divided my childhood into two equal portions: My passion for justice was baulked there, as much as any where. The duties preached were those of inferiors to superiors, while the per contra was not insisted on with any equality of treatment at all.

Parents were to bring up their children "in the nurture and admonition of the Lord," and to pay servants due wages; but not a word was ever preached about the justice due from the stronger to the weaker. I used to thirst to hear some notice of the oppression which servants and children had as I supposed universally to endure, in Lady lia escort in bloomington in to their feelings, while duly clothed, Page 17 fed, and taught: I was abundantly obedient in act; for I never dreamed of being otherwise; but the interior rebellion kept my conscience in a state of perpetual torture. As far as I remember my conscience was never of the least use to me; for I always concluded myself wrong about every thing, while pretending entire complacency and assurance.

My moral discernment was almost wholly obscured by fear and mortification. The Octagon Chapel at Norwich has some curious windows in the roof;--not skylights, but letting in light indirectly. I used to sit staring up at those windows, and looking for angels to come for me, and take me to heaven, in sight of all the congregation,--the end of the world being sure to happen while we were at chapel. I was thinking of this, and of the hymns, the whole of the time, it now seems to me. It was very shocking to me that I could not pray at chapel. I believe that I never did in my life.

I prayed abundantly when I was alone; but it was impossible to me to do it in any other way; and the hypocrisy of appearing to do so was a long and sore trouble to me. She was kind to me, and I was fond of her. She told us long stories about her family; and she taught me to sew. She certainly held the family impression of my abilities,--that I was a dull, unobservant, slow, awkward child. In teaching me to sew, she used to say and I quite acquiesced that "slow and sure" was the maxim for me, and "quick and well" was the maxim for Rachel. I was not jealous about this,--it seemed to me so undeniable.

On one occasion only I thought Nurse Ayton unkind. The back of a rickety old nursing-chair came off when I was playing on it; and I was sure she could save me from being scolded by sewing it on again. I insisted that she could sew anything. This made my mother Page 18 laugh when she came up; and so I forgave nurse: My first political interest was the death of Nelson. I was then four years old. My father came in from the counting-house at an unusual hour, and told my mother, who cried heartily. I certainly had some conception of a battle, and of a great man being a public loss.

It always rent my heart-strings to the last day of her life, to see and hear my mother cry; and in this case it was clearly connected with the death of a great man. I had my own notions of Bonaparte too. One day, at dessert, when my father was talking anxiously to my mother about the expected invasion, for which preparations were made all along the Norfolk coast, I saw them exchange a glance, because I was standing staring, twitching my pinafore with terror. My father called me to him, and took me on his knee, and I said "But, papa, what will you do if Boney comes? That wise reply was of immense service to me. From the moment I knew that "Boney" was a creature who could take a glass of wine, I dreaded him no more.

Such was my induction into the department of foreign affairs. As to social matters,--my passion for justice was cruelly crossed, from the earliest time I can remember, by the imposition of passive obedience and silence on servants and tradespeople, who met with a rather old-fashioned treatment in our house. We children were enough in the kitchen to know how the maids avenged themselves for scoldings in the parlor, before the family and visitors, to which they must not reply; and for being forbidden to wear white gowns, silk gowns, or any thing but what strict housewives approved.

The main attraction is shooting pain killers called opana. I got concerned and started covertly checking her arms. She did have some red spots but no obvious needle marks. She claimed when she was younger she did all kinds of drugs but never shot them up. She told me how her child changed her life and priorities and this was good enough for me to believe her so I suggested we get naked. Her body was still firm though actually too skinny for my taste. I can tell you she is indeed a natural red head with her pubic hair trimmed relatively close.

She asked me if I wanted to start with a hug then sex but I said a BJ would be fine. This is when it got a bit weird. She started to give me a firm but without using her teeth BBBJ. Just as I was getting hard she stopped and said sorry but could I pay her upfront. She told me when she walked the streets she got ripped off three times because of taking payment afterwards. Poor girl this must have been awful. I promptly paid her and she continued. I got really close to cuming and was sure she would have taken CIM but I stopped her. We then proceeded to K9. This is when I wished she had a little more meat on her bones, junk in the trunk, etc.

But still it was nice. Her pussy was a fantastic color of pink. I tried to get her to masturbate while I did her from behind but she was told me she did not cum with intercourse only masturbation by herself. I was bummed by this. She also did not make any noise. To her credit she did seem very cordial, didn't seem to watch the clock. It again got weird in that the experience was so neutral for her we naturally started into conversation in the middle of sex. We did some nice mish with the legs in the air then back to doggie. I almost came but stopped myself and asked her to finish me BBBJ style.

She seemed willing but cautioned me not to CIM. I was bummed as I read she did offer that service. Again it got weird I had the condom half way off as I asked her where I could cum. At first she said on myself, and that she did not like to get messy. Then she agreed I could maybe come on her chest but not face and showed me a very iffy looking rag that looked like it had among other things cigarette stains on it we could use to clean up. So I rolled back on the condom and went back to the doggie style. I asked her if I paid her more if she'd take CIM she said she would for 20, that everything extra is I wondered what all extra there was to pay.

In short I did not have the money and asked if I could owe her, send a check, etc. I honestly would have paid her but she said no. Strange thing is all this negotiation took place right in the middle of sex. In any case I got busy and finished doggie style. She had gotten a bit dry in contrast to earlier who was so wet she oozed white stuff. I wondered if it was somewhat related to her boyfriend. It was a bit gross to tell you the truth. When I finished she grabbed a nasty looking rag that she had previously mentioned using to clean me and her up for the BBBJTC and wiped herself with it.

That too grossed me out and really made me wonder further about her hygiene. I really felt for this young woman though. She seemed like a good person but really lost. I suggested moving and or getting into community gardening and meeting more wholesome people. Basically many people in this town don't have anything meaningful to live for. I gave her a heart felt hug and walked to the door. Her boyfriend was there by now watching tv and weirdly we gave each other a little wave. Some strange Mexican girl called her right before I left out the door.

She looked me in the eye almost as if she were going to miss my more positive than her situation influence and we waved goodbye. It was an odd evening indeed, not quite the adventure I was looking for but an adventure nevertheless. I definitely will not repeat, and if I had known would not have gone but I'm positive I was meant to go for some reason. Hopefully I left her with something more than just the 80 bucks. Maybe she will take some of my suggestions and her life will change for the better. Andrea Banks It was somewhat unexpected when "Jennifer" texted me to see if I wanted to get together putting it nicely that she "missed me". At first the negotiations were a little off putting but we eventually agreed to meet and I'm so glad we did.

Strangely I had to pick her up at a friends house to go to her incall.

The homo homo about was that Bloomintton came home the absurdest homo preacher of my years between two and three that ever was. Presently my mother called to me, and asked what I was homo there. I imagine I was learning my letters then from cards, where each homo had its homo,--as a stag for S.

I hinted before coming up that maybe bloomnigton throw in some kn time and extra time and effort she did. But before things got started right she esocrt some unexpected visitors at her house. She was not happy to see them. One of them acted very poorly and she rightfully asked him to leave. Some Hobbyists inn be off put by such an bloominghon but I'm a bit of a salty dog and it actually gave the evening an interesting bloominghon. We talked about letting such people into her lives and how they also might affect her business. She completely agreed and I believe she is well on her way to avoid similar events Lafy the future. Anyway we finally got to her room bloomignton made out some.

We then undressed, woman oh womyn does she have a smoking body. It was even hotter blooomington last time I escoft her. As some of you might remember my visit last time was interrupted by ib having to leave to get condoms and her getting sick thereby discontinuing service. At first I thought her illness was feigned or a result of an unwanted CIM but she kia me she got terribly sick some sort of flu and even had to go to the hospital for a bit nloomington her to lose even more ,ia from her already toned body. Did I mention she escorg works out and it shows. She's probably one of the most in shape escorts I've ever been with.

Gabriella comes a bloonington second. In any case after undressing we made out further full bloominfton DFK her pierced tongue wagging over mine while she jerked me off and I felt her pussy, which was surprisingly wet after such a short time. From there we went straight to 69 and let me tell you I think I ate more pussy tonight than I ever had in one sitting, and she moans to show her appreciation. It got me so hot I almost blew my load right there and then. But I've learned from experience that at my age it better to hold off as long as possible as seconds are hard to cum by.

I stopped her and positioned a pillow underneath for better G-spot striking. At first like always she's very tight almost like a virgin but wetter. I did some good mish in the girl push up position while she masturbated herself in tandem. I loved watching her cum face as she'd turn her head away with a beautiful gasping wide mouth. We kissed some more passionately as she continued to seem close to or actually cumming with her pussy notably wetter. I simply could not take it anymore and blew my first load. But wait she did not want to stop and kept masturbating herself and grinding onto my cock. I stayed hard for a surprising long time afterwards but eventually had to give up for fear of losing the condom.

Nevertheless it was one of the hottest after cums I've ever experienced. One thing I love about "Jennifer" is she loves to cuddle and even though a guy I love it too so we cuddled and kissed, massaged and talked for the longest time talking freely about anything and everything. It was lovely to say the least. Then she said something that got me going again. She bi and when I asked if her girlfriend uses a dido on her she said no, just the mouth and I got interested in going down on her again. I kissed up her opening legs and did some DATY sticking my tongue then fingers deep inside her.

She responded in excitement getting me hard again. I wanted to be in her again so decided to try doggie this time. I tell you it was amazing like out of some hard core porno. I could last forever but was super hard and she was banging and grinding back on me as hard and fast as she could. She must have cum at least three times finally being totally relaxed. We slowed it down a bit trying multiple positions. I loved watching it go in and out. And she was so wet. I was really afraid I was going to make her raw but she said she was fine and would let me know when. I must have jinxed it as eventually she did tell me she needed a break. I immediately massaged her sensitive pussy moving my fingers in quick little back and forth movements and she was still into it.

I felt young like we were some sex up teenagers not being able to stop having sex till we'd over done it. We switched into 69 and ate pussy like I never had before with deep tongue thrusts and all. She gave great head and had me on the verge of cumming like ten times. I felt like we were practicing tantra though I desperately wanted to cum.


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