My Secret Life

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My Secret Life, by "Walter", is the memoir of a gentleman describing the author's sexual development andpissing  experiences in Victorian England. It was first published in a private edition of eleven volumes, at the expense of the author, including an imperfect index, which appeared over seven years beginning around 1888.

The work itself is enormous, amounting to over one million words,[1] the eleven original volumes amounting to over 4,000 pages. The text is repetitive and highly disorganised  but its frank discussion of sexual matters and other hidden aspects of Victorian life make it a rare and valuable social document. According to Steven Marcus, it is virtually the only source for information on London's houses of prostitution, in which Walter spent many hours. It has been described as "one of the strangest and most obsessive books ever written"

Will be publishing excerpts pertaining to his reference and love of pee every other day here but you can download the entire book free here. It's full of all kinds of porn in written form, highly erotic all on its own but of course, the best is the pee parts.

https://www.globalgreyebooks.com/ebooks/anonymous/my-secret-life/my-secret-life-complete-volumes-1-11.pdf

My piddling letch, which seems for a time to have been dormant, returned. I began to make her piddle in all sorts of attitudes, first in a pot, then in a basin — at times with her cunt opened naturally, then holding the lips open, so that the little red piddle-vent could be seen almost. — At no time of my life had I such variety of frolics with urine as I then had. — It may be termed my pissing period. I began to piss with her, would keep myself from watering for hours before I met her, so that I might deliver the fullest, longest, and strongest stream of urine possible. — She was famous at it. I have seen the piddle stream of scores of women, but hers was the hardest, and strongest that ever wetted a pot. — I hit on the idea of bringing her to the bedside, laying her back, putting a basin under her bum as close as the bed would permit. Then she would hold the lips of her cunt wide open, and I pointing my tool, would empty my bladder. The yellow stream hitting either prick hole, or broad surface of the cunt, splashed in a thousand little bright drops on her thighs, or lodged in the crisp black hair, then ran down to where the quim nears the bum hole, and dropped into the basin beneath. Directly I had pissed, my prick would stand, I joined my body to hers, and capable no longer of delay, bedewed quickly with sperm the inside of the orifice which I had just be-dewed outside with a thinner fluid.

Pissing against her cunt, she declared, no man had ever done to her but me. She enjoyed it, it seemed to make her lewed, and she always spent with me after-wards. — When spending she shewed it plainly, and did not attempt to hide it as some do. — Indeed she could not, for her cunt would close so strongly round my prick, that there was no mistaking what it was up to. — Besides that, her face first went scarlet — perfectly scarlet, — a minute afterwards, perfectly white

Two other modes, in which we used to amuse our selves with our bladders were these. — We used to strip ourselves start naked, shoes and stockings off even, and arrange the cheval glass, so that with other glasses I could see her both back and front at a glance. Then lay on my back with hands under my head on a pillow, so raised as to enable me to see the picture we made. Then she would stand for a minute straddling over me, and the sight of the red stripe peeping out of the black hair would stiffen my penis. Then sitting down on me as she would on a chamber pot, she would take my stiff prick and engulf it in her cunt, the dark hair of her quim meeting mine, her bum cheeks just touching without weighting heavily on my thighs. Then out would come her warm stream, hitting my belly below my navel, and running down in two little streams by the side of my balls, uniting beneath them, washing over my arsehole, and depositing itself on the carpet on which I was lying.

At other times I reversed her, and she engulfed my prick in her cunt with her backside towards me. — Then I could play with her cool, firm, smooth back-side, and feel round the stem of my prick just where it was lost, and hidden in her warm juicy tube. I could feel to her bumhole — or back bone. In the glasses I could see my prick rising out from the balls, and losing itself in the dark black thicket on her cunt lips. — "Open the lips, Sarah." — Immediately her two fin-gers would separate the lips, leaving the broad red surface, at which sight my prick would throb with de-sire to spend. — "Piss, piss dear, I can bear it no longer." — Then it would fall like a cataract in front of my balls, and partly on my thighs.

At times wrought to an irrepressible pitch, no sooner had the last dribble fallen on my ballocks, than with a few upward shoves I finished my pleasure, feeling her arse, and gloating over the luscious picture we made; holding her on me until my prick slipped out, and drew with it some of my sperm, as it flapped down on to my balls, still wet with her piddle.

By that time the piddle had cooled —my arse used to feel as if it had fallen into a ditch —we both rose, wiped and dried ourselves, and sat down to talk until desire again asserted its empire over me, or over us, for she enjoyed this fun.

There is one thing in these amatory micturating bouts, which I only recollect having done with her and one other woman. — It was pissing when up her cunt. — She told me she had allowed a man or two to try, but that they could not succeed. — Indeed it is difficult. For when a prick is stiff and in the state of nervous strain which fits it for penetrating a cunt, its ejaculatory muscles struggle to shoot out sperm, and so I suppose contract the opening to the bladder, and prevent piddle issuing. But one night she was undressed, and lying at the side of the bed with thighs wide open, up I thrust my prick bursting, and as I thought with piss so proud, that nothing could prevent the jet. When up her cunt I tried to piss, but my prick began to throb, and her cunt, as I thought, to squeeze it, altho she declared it was quiet. I strained till I farted like a cow after beans, but not a drop would come. — The more I strained, the more difficult I found it to restrain myself from oscillating my buttocks for an outshoot of spunk.

My prick would not be cheated. Her cunt resented its being treated as a pisspot, and asserting its right to a stronger and thicker injection, closed round my prick, and worked it so, that getting its way, it drew from me its natural embrocation. — As my sperm throbbed out, it caused me such pain that I groaned.

Directly my seminal reservoirs had emptied them-selves, with a little effort my bladder opened, and I pissed for two minutes I am sure. — My prick kept gradually shrinking but-until it had done its full duty as a sperm spouter and water pipe, kept in her cunt. Pressing out from her cunt came my stream, running over my balls, and down by her arse split on to bed and floor. — At length out flopped my doodle, bringing with it the remainder of my injection both thick and thin. — Up I pulled her, laid down in her place, but sloping off from the edge of the bed and she standing up, I thrust my body between her thighs so that my prick was just under her cunt. — Out came her piddle copiously over my belly and ballocks, and that completed the fun. — She cried out, "Oh, no, I shall wet my boots and stockings," for in our lustful hurry she had kept them on. "Damn your boots — piss — piss." — Out came the stream and I was happy. But we made the bed in such a mess that I was obliged to pay extra for its use.

Then I seem to have ceased eccentric micturating amusements, and erotic pleasures of a different kind took their place; tho as long as I knew her, I made her squat and piddle before me. I shall always I am sure, love to see a well made pair of white thighs, and their oval terminations in rear, whilst from between them the red line opens its hairy lips, and the sherry tinted stream spurts.

 

[watchr12 1,464]

Thanks for the nice quote.

The title is available in various forms on Amazon, although typically not cheap. One edition I don't see there (but I didn't spend much time looking for it) is a large format hardcover by Grove Press that has four pages on each page (rather like the Oxford English Dictionary compact edition. The print's a bit small, but it's the complete 11 volumes (also available there in a two-volume boxed set). It's definitely must-read material for those who are interested in things watery.

[Guest UnabashedUser]

1 hour ago, watchr12 said:

Thanks for the nice quote.

The title is available in various forms on Amazon, although typically not cheap. One edition I don't see there (but I didn't spend much time looking for it) is a large format hardcover by Grove Press that has four pages on each page (rather like the Oxford English Dictionary compact edition. The print's a bit small, but it's the complete 11 volumes (also available there in a two-volume boxed set). It's definitely must-read material for those who are interested in things watery.

Def a collector's item and unique writing. I gain a new perspective every time I read a chapter. Never fails to provoke a nether reaction.  Nice to see an appreciation of "walter" here.

[Guest UnabashedUser]

My Secret Life --Part two:

A taste had developed as said, which I have retained to the present time. I loved to see a woman piddle, used to make Charlotte do it as often as I could, to place my hand under the stream, and feel its splash on my fingers; and if chance let me hear the rattle in a pot, or sec a woman rising up from the attitude, my prick used to stand. I did this with her greatly to her astonishment, she resented it so much that I never repeated it : singular that a woman who would let me lay and kiss her cunt, or put finger and prick up it; should refuse to let me see the water come from it—but so it was.

Then I wanted to piddle, and taking up a pot, emptied my bladder in very open fashion before her, and ex-posed my prick as much as I could — (It is a thing I always do as soon as I can before a woman, whom I want to get over.) and I asked her at the same time, — "Don't you want to piddle, my love?" — The girl turned away her head, and blushed strongly. Her whole manner was so unmistakably modest, that I was perplexed again. It was quite clear to me, that whether she had been tailed or not, that she was not a strumpet in the least degree.

One day when she went up to her bedroom, I went softly after her, as I often did, hoping to hear her piddling. Her door was ajar, one of my little sisters was in the room with her, I expect I must have had incipient randiness on me. She taught the child to walk up stairs in front of her, holding her up, and in stooping to do so, I had glimpses of her fat calves. At the door, I could not see her wash, that was done at the other side of the room, but I heard the splash of water and, to my delight, the pot moved, and her piddle rattle.

When I was approaching my sixteenth year, I awakened one night with a voluptuous dream, and found my night-shirt saturated with semen, it was my first wet dream; that set me frigging again for a time, but I either restrained myself or did not naturally require much spending at that time, for I certainly did not often do so.

But our talk was always about cunt and women, I was always trying to smell their flesh, look up their petticoats, watch to see them going to piddle; and the wonder to me now is that I did not frig myself incessantly; and can only account for it on the grounds, that though my imagination was very ripe, my body was not.

We in fact did it everywhere else, and often enough for my health, for I was young, weak, and growing, and it was the same with her. The risk, we ran were awful, but we loved each other with all our souls. Both young, both new at the work, both liking it, it was rarely we got more than just time to get our fucking over and clothes arranged before we had to separate, for her to get to her duties. Many times I have seen her about the house, cunt full and with the heightened colour and brilliant eyes of a woman who had just been satisfied. I used to feel pleasure in knowing she was bringing in the dinner, or tea, with my spunk in her cunt; not having had the opportunity to wash or piddle it out.

A modest girl lays quietly after fucking, and does not wash till you are away. A young girl who has let you see her cunt and take her virginity-, won't wash it at all until you point out the necessity. A gay woman often tries to shove back her bum just as you spend, gets the discharge near the outlet, uncunts you quickly, and at once washes and pisses at the same time. A quiet young girl wipes her cunt on the outside only. A working man's wife does the same. I have fucked several, and not one washed before me. I incline to the opinion that poor women rarely wash their cunts inside, their piddle does all the washing. "What's the good of washing it?" said a poor but not a gay girl to me, "it's always clean and feels just the same an hour afterwards, whether washed or not." Is the unwashed cunt less healthy than one often soaped and syringed? I doubt it. An old roue said to me he would not give a damn to fuck a cunt at night which has been washed since the morning. About sexual matters each of us knew about as much as the other, and we had much to learn.

MORE in TWO DAYS friends.

Stay wet.

[watchr12 1,464]

The entire text seems to be here for free. It's also available in other formats at this site.

https://www.globalgreyebooks.com/read-online/my-secret-life-complete-volumes-1-11/my-secret-life-complete-volumes-1-11-read-online.html

[Alfresco 10,998]

It is very interesting to see the different way of writing from that time.  Some of the descriptions are quite crude considering that most people at the time would not discuss their sexual activity, but it is good to see that people had the same desires and ours is nothing new.

[Guest UnabashedUser]

Then I wanted to piddle, and taking up a pot, emptied my bladder in very open fashion before her, and ex-posed my prick as much as I could — (It is a thing I always do as soon as I can before a woman, whom I want to get over.) and I asked her at the same time, — "Don't you want to piddle, my love?" — The girl turned away her head, and blushed strongly. Her whole manner was so unmistakably modest, that I was perplexed again. It was quite clear to me, that whether she had been tailed or not, that she was not a strumpet in the least degree.

One day when she went up to her bedroom, I went softly after her, as I often did, hoping to hear her piddling. Her door was ajar, one of my little sisters was in the room with her, I expect I must have had incipient randiness on me. She taught the child to walk up stairs in front of her, holding her up, and in stooping to do so, I had glimpses of her fat calves. At the door, I could not see her wash, that was done at the other side of the room, but I heard the splash of water and, to my delight, the pot moved, and her piddle rattle.

When I was approaching my sixteenth year, I awakened one night with a voluptuous dream, and found my night-shirt saturated with semen, it was my first wet dream; that set me frigging again for a time, but I either restrained myself or did not naturally require much spending at that time, for I certainly did not often do so.

But our talk was always about cunt and women, I was always trying to smell their flesh, look up their petticoats, watch to see them going to piddle; and the wonder to me now is that I did not frig myself incessantly; and can only account for it on the grounds, that though my imagination was very ripe, my body was not.

We in fact did it everywhere else, and often enough for my health, for I was young, weak, and growing, and it was the same with her. The risk, we ran were awful, but we loved each other with all our souls. Both young, both new at the work, both liking it, it was rarely we got more than just time to get our fucking over and clothes arranged before we had to separate, for her to get to her duties. Many times I have seen her about the house, cunt full and with the heightened colour and brilliant eyes of a woman who had just been satisfied. I used to feel pleasure in knowing she was bringing in the dinner, or tea, with my spunk in her cunt; not having had the opportunity to wash or piddle it out.

A modest girl lays quietly after fucking, and does not wash till you are away. A young girl who has let you see her cunt and take her virginity-, won't wash it at all until you point out the necessity. A gay woman often tries to shove back her bum just as you spend, gets the discharge near the outlet, uncunts you quickly, and at once washes and pisses at the same time. A quiet young girl wipes her cunt on the outside only. A working man's wife does the same. I have fucked several, and not one washed before me. I incline to the opinion that poor women rarely wash their cunts inside, their piddle does all the washing. "What's the good of washing it?" said a poor but not a gay girl to me, "it's always clean and feels just the same an hour afterwards, whether washed or not." Is the unwashed cunt less healthy than one often soaped and syringed? I doubt it. An old roue said to me he would not give a damn to fuck a cunt at night which has been washed since the morning. About sexual matters each of us knew about as much as the other, and we had much to learn.

I used to watch Mary, slipping out into the outside passage leading to the servant's privy, and take pleasure in the idea of her piddling there. One day, I watched her coming back, she gave her clothes a tuck between her legs, and I knew it was to dry her cunt; opened the door just as she did it, she knew that I saw the action by my grin, and her face turned scarlet. I kissed her that day, asked her timidly if she had dried it properly that morning. "Dried what?" said she innocently. "What I saw you drying when you came from the closet." She turned away without saying a word.

She pushed me away; being on my knees, back I tumbled; as I did so, caught her chemise and lifted it; she put her hands down to prevent it; I kept my hold tightly, and it tore up with a noise, to where her stays stopped it from going further; but the rent disclosed thighs belly and motte simultaneously. She rose, tried to hide her nakedness, and stop the chemise going further, her legs got somehow entangled with mine, I fell back, and she fell clean over me. As I fell, my head struck the pot and overturned it, I felt the warm piddle round my neck and head, and at the same instant a heavy sort of blow on my nose, and hair on my lips—it was her naked belly and motte which struck me as she fell on me. We rolled over, and struggled for a second, I saw white thighs a huge bum, and then we were both up. She opened the window and shouted out, "Eliza, Eliza, I want you."

The firmness of her flesh impressed me, whether I put my finger between the cheeks of her arse or between her thighs I could with difficulty get it away; she could have cracked a nut between either. The next wonder was the hair of her cunt, which was long but curly; I now see that she could not have pissed without wetting it, which accounted for her always what we youths used to call mopping it, after she had piddled.

Each woman had generally but one room, but two or three used to sit together in the front room in their chemises. There was the bed, wash-stand, chamber-pot and all complete, Perhaps one lolled out of the window, showing her breasts, and if you gave such a one a shilling, she would stoop so that you could see right down past her belly to her knees, and have a glimpse of her cunt-fringe. Sometimes one would pull up her garter, or another sit down and piddle, or pretend to do so, or have recourse to other exciting devices when men peeped in.

She upbraided me, rushing out of the crowd at the side to escape me, I after her, into a dark passage, between the backs of the booths, where men were pissing. They hailed her with laughter, asking her if she had come to piddle. Back into the crowd she rushed, I with her, and did the same thing, talking baudily, and kept this up until it was time for her to go home.

Often I had no want but for her, and she used to strip herself, or dress just as I wished, put her body into some attitude, then lay and read the paper whilst I used to sit and read as well, looking up from time to time at her. Then I would put her in a new attitude, and go on so for a time; then would make her piss, catch it in the pot, piss at the same time in it, stick a dildo up her cunt, and have every variety of amusement I could think of. She was always willing, never in a hurry, never refused. A charming harlot.

Making her piss was a favorite amusement with me, I would keep her a whole day without doing it, so that I might have a good long stream out of her when looking on. I, was most curious about the way a cunt opened and shut in squatting. It was the subject of my earnest investigation. I used to put two chairs so that they would not slip, nearly close together, and lay down with my head between them. Then Camille naked all but boots and stockings would stand up on the chairs, one foot on each; the legs naturally a little open as the chairs were a little apart, just disclosed the cunt. Then she would sit down slowly, so that I could gradually see the gap widen, the red nymphoe show, the clitoris jut out, and at length the whole cunt-gape ready for the piss. Then she would rise slowly and repeat it till I was tired; then still laying down I used to hold a large basin on my breast and belly, and squatting above my head she would piss into the basin. I would feel the cunt, and if very wet, dry it. In all this she was obedience itself; she never moved from one posture till I told her to get to another, would answer any question with frankness.

She turned, and coming slowly back stood still a moment, then comfortably squatted, and pissed.

I laying half buried in the hay was not visible to her, but seeing her piddling, raised myself, and looked. As she finished she gave her clothes that usual hitch against her cunt, looked up, and saw me, turned round quickly, went away from the yard, and then as if she had forgotten, turned round with her head hanging down, and came through the rick-yard. I slipped from the stack, and met her at the foot of it, — we were surrounded with stacks.

Her face was red. "A comfortable piddle you had", said I stopping her. "Adun sir", said she. "A kiss, for old acquaintance", snatching one. "I am married", said she. "Don't care, so much the merrier, it's not so wet as it was, when I felt it some years ago?" "Oh ! lawk don't, I'm married."

The privies of the houses in our terrace were built in pairs, the garden wall divided them and partly the cess-pool which was common to the two. I used to take pleasure in watching to see these girls go to the privy, and although the idea of a female evacuating revolted me, yet used to try to get to our privy when one of the girls went to theirs, and would stand smoking just inside the passage by the back-steps of my house, tip-toeing to catch a glance of their heads, and stopping myself from bogging sometimes, so that I might get there at the same time. Directly I saw a head off I followed quietly, and if the weather was quite still we could hear footsteps in each other's gar-dens too well.

The cess-pool had at the time I write of just been emptied, the turds dropping and flopping down could be heard, it was not nice, but it did not shock me. I liked to hear the girls' piddle splashing, and used to push my prick back, and sit back on the seat, so that my piddle might drop straight, and make much noise. It pleased me to hear the joint rattle and splash we made if we pissed at the same time. I did this so constantly, that I could tell which girl was there, for the piddle of one always made twice as much splash as the other's. Up would stand my prick, and often J could not piss for its stiffness, directly I heard the girls splashing.

One day I had a hardish motion, and was randy that morning almost to pain. One of the girls was there. I strained, my cock got stiff, and began to throb violently, and shot out its spunk as I strained. I went back to the house, and just entering it saw the other daughter go towards the privy. Back I went and sitting down frigged myself as I heard her evacuations drop, so randy and charged with sperm was I.

After that I occasionally frigged myself at the privy, and used to picture to myself the girls sitting there, their clothes up round their rumps, and slightly up in front showing their limbs, and piddle squirting, but I always thought of both girls as having cunts like Mary's.

[WillieWee 15]

As someone who enjoys the sound of a woman pissing, the above paragraphs are especially erotic.