Page:Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure (1749, vol. 1).pdf/122

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118
Memoirs of a

Nor did his shirt hinder me from observing that symmetry of his limbs, that exactness of shape, in the fall of it towards the loins, where the waist ends, and the rounding swell of the hips commences, where the skin, sleek, smooth, and dazzling white, burnishes on the stretch over firm, plump, ripe flesh, that crimped and ran into dimples at the least pressure, or that the touch could not rest upon, but slid over as on the surface of the most polish'd ivory.

His thighs finely fashion'd, and with a florid glossy roundness gradually tapering away to the knees, seem'd pillars worthy to support that beauteous frame, at the bottom of which I could not, without some remains of terrour, some tender emotions too, fix my eyes on that terrible spit-fire machine, which had not long before, with such fury broke into, torn, and almost ruin'd those soft tender parts of mine, which had not yet done smarting with the effects of its rage; but behold it now! crest-fall'n, reclining its

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