8 December 1909: 44 Fontenoy Street, Dublin.
My sweet little whorish Nora
I did as you told me, you dirty little girl, and pulled myself off twice when I read your letter. I am delighted to see that you do like being ****ed arseways. Yes, now I can remember that night when I ****ed you for so long backwards. It was the dirtiest ****ing I ever gave you, darling. My prick was stuck up in you for hours, ****ing in and out under your upturned rump. I felt your fat sweaty buttocks under my belly and saw your flushed face and mad eyes. At every **** I gave you your shameless tongue come bursting out through your lips and if I gave you a bigger stronger **** than usual fat dirty farts came spluttering out of your backside. You had an arse full of farts that night, darling, and I ****ed them out of you, big fat fellows, long windy ones, quick little merry cracks and a lot of tiny little naughty farties ending in a long gush from your hole. It is wonderful to **** a farting woman when every **** drives one out of her. I think I would know Nora’s fart anywhere. I think I could pick hers out in a roomful of farting women. It is a rather girlish noise not like the wet windy fart which I imagine fat wives have. It is sudden and dry and dirty like what a bold girl would let off in fun in a school dormitory at night. I hope Nora will let off no end of her farts in my face so that I may know their smell also.
You say when I go back you will suck me off and you want me to lick your ****, you little depraved blackguard. I hope you will surprise me some time when I am asleep dressed, steal over me with a whore’s glow in your slumbrous eyes, gently undo button after button in the fly of my trousers and gently take out your lover’s fat mickey, lap it up in your moist mouth and suck away at it till it gets fatter and stiffer and comes off in your mouth. Sometime too I shall surprise you asleep, lift up your skirts and open your hot drawers gently, then lie down gently by you and begin to lick lazily round your bush. You will begin to stir uneasily then I will lick the lips of my darling’s ****. You will begin to groan and grunt and sigh and fart with lust in your sleep. Then I will lick up faster and faster like a ravenous dog until your **** is a mass of slime and your body wriggling wildly.
Goodnight, my little farting Nora, my dirty little ****bird! There is one lovely word, darling, you have underlined to make me pull myself off better. Write me more about that and yourself, sweetly, dirtier, dirtier.
This is a letter from James Joyce to one of his lovers. The dude was a writer and was obviously born before the internet, he died during WW II even. Its pretty clear ppl will always and have always been into some weird ****.
EDIT: One of his letters actually talks about listening to a girl **** in her pants and then he'd fuk em. Feels kinda weird tho that these letters are so widely distributed just cause he's dead. I wonder if he'd be pissed af knowing a bunch of ppl read em.
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