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Memoirs of Fanny Hill

Latest update – Thursday 13 August 2009.

Author:

John Cleland, Memoirs of a woman of pleasure (Fanny Hill), Printed for G. Fenton (first edition), in the Strand, London, 1747.



  • Fanny Hill or Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure

    The Personal history of Fanny Hill

    First Letter - Part I

    par John Cleland

    «Encouraged by this, her hands became extremely free, and wander’d over my whole body, with touches, squeezes, pressures, that rather warm’d and surpriz’d me with their novelty, than they either shock’d or alarm’d me.
    The flattering praises she intermingled with these invasions, contributed also not a little to bribe my passiveness; and, knowing no ill, I feared none, especially from one who had prevented all doubt of her womanhood by conducting my hands to a pair of breasts that hung loosely down, in a size and volume that full sufficiently distinguished her sex, to me at least, who had never made any other comparison …
    I lay then all tame and passive as she could wish, whilst her freedom raised no other emotions but those of a strange, and, till then, unfelt pleasure. Every part of me was open and exposed to the licentious courses of her hands, which, like a lambent fire, ran over my whole body, and thaw’d all coldness as they went.» (John Cleland, Memoirs of a woman of pleasure).


  • Fanny Hill or Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure

    Mrs. Brown’s dark closet

    First Letter - Part II

    par John Cleland

    «Her sturdy stallion had now unbutton’d, and produced naked, stiff, and erect, that wonderful machine, which I had never seen before, and which, for the interest my own seat of pleasure began to take furiously in it, I star’d at with all the eyes I had: however, my senses were too much flurried, too much concenter’d in that now burning spot of mine, to observe any thing more than in general the make and turn of that instrument, from which the instinct of nature, yet more than all I had heard of it, now strongly informed me I was to expect that supreme pleasure which she had placed in the meeting of those parts so admirably fitted for each other.» (John Cleland, Fanny Hill or Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure).


  • Fanny Hill or Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure

    Duet-parties of pleasure in Chelsea

    First Letter - Part III

    par John Cleland

    «I complain’d but tenderly complain’d that I could not bear it …indeed he hurt me! … Still he thought no more than that being so young, the largeness of his machine (for few men could dispute size with him) made all the dificulty; and that possible I had not been enjoy’d by any so advantageously made in that part as himself: for still, that my virgin flower was yet uncrop’d, never enter’d into his head, and he would have thought it idling with time and words to have question’d me upon it.
    He tries again, still no admittance, still no penetration; but he had hurt me yet more, whilst my extreme love made me bear extreme pain, almost without a groan.» (John Cleland, Memoirs of a woman of pleasure).


  • Fanny Hill or Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure

    Our landlady, Mrs. Jones

    First Letter - Part IV

    par John Cleland

    «The gentleman, however, no novice in affairs of this sort, drew near me; and under the pretence of comforting me, first with his handkerchief dried my tears as they ran down my cheeks: presently he ventur’d to kiss me: on my part, neither resistance nor compliance. I sat stock-still; and now looking on myself as bought by the payment that had been transacted before me, I did not care what became of my wretched body: and, wanting life, spirits, or courage to oppose the least struggle, even that of the modesty of my sex, I suffer’d, tamely, whatever the gentleman pleased; who proceeding insensibly from freedom to freedom, insinuated his hand between my handkerchief and bosom, which he handled at discretion: finding thus no repulse, and that every thing favour’d, beyond expectation, the completion of his desires, he took me in his arms, and bore me, without life or motion, to the bed, on which laying me gently down, and having me at what advantage he pleas’d, I did not so much as know what he was about, till recovering from a trance of lifeless insensibility, I found him buried in me, whilst I lay passive and innocent of the least sensation of pleasure: a death-cold corpse could scarce have less life or sense in it. As soon as he had thus pacified a passion which had too little respected the condition I was in, he got off, and after recomposing the disorder of my cloaths, employ’d himself with the utmost tenderness to calm the transports of remorse and madness at myself with which I was seized, too late, I confess, for having suffer’d on that bed the embraces of an utter stranger.» (John Cleland, Memoirs of a woman of pleasure).


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