We had a long conversation of a most private character. The friend in Paris is Harry. But, joking apart, and notwithstanding occasional slips, I am completely opposed, on every ground, to this weakening and really insipid vice, so ruinous, too, to the constitution and power of enjoyment that lies in the real union of the sexes. This novel is a great example of Victorian erotica. First, I must recount what I should have told you in my last letter, had not the relation of the scene so overcome me that I could not go on, but was obliged to relieve my bursting sensations as described. Harry Hargrove, photographer. —————————–LETTER 2
To really emit is to spoil the thing. ‘But, can the Antinous go… go into…,’ she stammered, ‘into… you know where I mean?’
I told her that excitement makes it swell up and become stiff and straight and explained that, if moved up and down inside her own part, it would produce boundless rapture.
