Louise sapped.—Suspicions.—Lectures on virginity with live illustrations.—Drugged for inspection.—Camille's hesitation.—Absents herself.—The house in G..d.n Sq..e.— Baudy prints.—A feel, a sniff and a kiss.—Out shopping.— Garters.—Dinner and after.
I went to work to get into Louise, having no compunctions, it seemed to me the most natural thing in the world. I had read about the naughtiness of seduction, but my associates had taught me, that every girl wanted fucking, and was longing secretly for it, high, or low, rich or poor, it was the same. As to servants, and women of the humbler class, that they all took cock on the quiet, and were proud of having a gentleman to cover them. Such was the opinion of men in my class of life and of my age. My experience with my mother's servants corroborated it; and so to get into Louise seemed both natural and proper.
I suppose there is but one way ordinarily of beginning with a woman. A man must first make himself agreeable, then successively familiar, endearing, coaxing, loose, bold, baudy, determined, then if needs be fierce, or even violent. This order comes naturally to man cunt-hunting, and ends in fucking. It does not follow that if the early stages pass easily, that the last shall ensure success. Occasionally the woman is scared, put on her guard against herself, and the man, and the chance is lost.
This course had become familiar to me at home, and I began. No person in the house except Camille and Madame Boileau spoke French; there was no other to speak at all, so my conversation was acceptable. At the end of a week I had kissed her to her contentment. No strong, healthy woman of eighteen is otherwise than gratified by the kisses of a young man. Money I knew now told much, and I gave to her who had never perhaps had five shillings to call her own. She gave me a kiss in the dark passage, I hugged her and pushed outside at her cunt, she ran upstairs angry, but had forgot it the next day.
Looking at her and longing used to make me randy, then if near, Camille's cunt got the benefit of it. The girl used to eye us when we went into the bed-room. She had a quarrel with her mistress, and said she should go home. Camille said she might; but speaking only French, and without money, how could she? Just then, through change of climate and living, she fell ill.
We were very kind to her. I got her everything. When asleep one day, Camille partly uncovered her, and showed me her limbs naked; they were so fine, and so excited me, that but for Camille, I think I should have ravished her. She soon got well, and I said, that if I did not soon have her, I should cease seeing her. "Who hindered?" Camille asked. There she was, I might have her.
Then I had a suspicious fit. All the old Major had told me about fellows being sold, and taken in by women who were not virgins came to my mind. The girl was never out but for a few minutes at a time to fetch things, yet other men saw Camille, and some might have seen and had the girl. Camille had once taken her out in a cab; she might have been to some man's. So I said I would not give the money unless I saw her virgin cunt first. After a day or two, Camille agreed to it if I would give her ten pounds down, and would swear never to disclose it to the girl.
I thought still I was to be fooled, so I called upon my old schoolfellow, who used to say, "Snatch at her cunt, and show her your cucumber." He had been one at the frigging match, and had just been appointed assistant-surgeon at a hospital; he was a bachelor and baudy-minded as ever. "M...," said I, "have you ever seen a virginity?" "Many," he replied, "I have dissected them, and if girls have anything the matter with their wombs, or cunts, we get a look, they don't mind a doctor. If a girl has piles, I make her turn up, and have opened several fine women's virgin cunts, asking questions all the while, if they feel this or feel that. They say yes or no, which of course I knew they would say, but they think I am very clever for asking. Some like a young doctor's fingers on their privates, though they say they object. Assistants only get the chance with the poor, the better classes have older married men."
I asked him to explain one to me on a woman, and he did. We went home with the same women; they were astonished, for instead of pulling our pricks out, we both merely felt and looked at them, and he gave me a full lecture. It was an odd sight to see him explaining the situation of a virginity, I holding a candle to see better. One of the girls roared with laughter, the others fancied they had some ailments, when they found out he was a doctor, and he gave them advice.
I don't mean ailments of their cunts.
From reading, his descriptions, his sketches and what he pointed out on three different cunts, I felt satisfied that I should know a virgin, and told Camille what I had done. She was then good enough to point out to me on her own cunt, where her virginity had been, as far as she could recollect it. She was quite sure about Louise, and explained that girls being with their parents in France were well watched; that the loose pricks about a town were all taken by the married women,—which I did not believe.
One night I was to see it, I waited for a signal from a window, of two lights, rushed across the road and was let in by Camille. We went into Louise's bedroom. There the girl lay in her night-dress on the bed, insensible. "We must be quick," said Camille. Then she threw the girl's clothes rapidly up above her naval, gently pulled apart her legs, and held open the lips of the girl's cunt. It was such as had been described to me. My excitement was fearful. She was a splendid limbed woman, looked twenty-five instead of eighteen years old.  The vermillion stripe in the midst of it was enough to drive any man mad. I put out my hand to touch it, but Camille pulled it back. "No, no," she said in a suppressed voice, "you must go, you promised me."  "No, go at once." She pulled me towards the door, the girl was breathing heavily. Wild with lust, I pulled out my prick. "Come away, you promised, she must see neither of us." "One look more then." Again Camille opened the cunt-lips.
As she did so, Louise gave a groan, and turned round on one side opening her eyes wide. Camille blew out the light, and pulled me into the sitting-room. "You must go," she said.
I met a woman in Regent street, it was raining hard.  The instant I saw her cunt, and almost before I could get my prick out I spent over her bum and thighs. She remarked, "You did want it, and no mistake." I left, got down to the Italian Opera. Crowds of women walked under the Colonade, they often then wore low dresses walking. I went to a baudy house with one, and fucked her thinking of the black-haired motte and lips between the thighs of the unconscious Louise.
I never knew what Camille had given the girl. She said she had made her drunk with champagne. Louise on a subsequent day said she had got drunk with champagne, but she never knew that I had seen her on that night. I believe that something else had been given to her to make her insensible. There was a convulsive movement in her body as she turned round; her limbs before she did so seemed dead, her breathing resembled a groan, her breast heaved distressingly, she opened her eyes, but saw nothing. The more I reflected, the less I understood the agitation of Camille, who usually was so calm.
I had seen the girl's virgin cunt, and recollect the look of pussy, belly, thighs, and slit. The cunt-hole as I held the candle near it seemed to be covered, excepting a little perforation just big enough to put a little finger through, corresponding with my surgical friend's description; yet I seemed to have less recollection of it than of all the rest of her body. It was confused, strange, like the remains of a dream on my mind. So much had suspicion taken possession of me, that I was by no means now sure I was not being done. I paid Camille the ten pounds. When she had got them, she said she expected the fifty pounds all the same, that the cunt inspection was a preliminary she had not bargained for. I thought I was being cheated, and said so. We had a row, but such a fool was I, so much desire had I to get into this girl,—simply because she was a virgin,—that at last I agreed to it.
The girl could not get up the next day. I saw her in her bed by myself; she said she had been ill through eating something, and had had champagne. I caressed her, and in spite of her struggles, got my hands on her breasts and half-way down her belly, spoke baudy, pulled out my prick, was repulsed, and gave her a sovereign.  I recollect telling Camille, that there was a wonderful likeness in face, colour of hair, eyes, limbs, and even in cunt, between her and her servant. Camille laughed and said, the two families had always been thought to be much alike, and were related.
Louise became inquisitive about my intimacy with Camille. "Was I her lover? Was I fond of her?" "Yes I had been, but was not now." "Why did I come there?" "To see you, my dear."
When Louise first arrived Camille was particular in not exposing her own legs or breast to me. Before that she used in warm weather to be with naked breasts, a chemise and slippers often being her only garments. Now she got into slipshot dressing again, and began to talk baudy. She had told Louise how she got her living, and talked about making money by fucking, so she told me; but she would not let me take any liberties with her before Louise. She went out leaving me alone with her, taking my money when she returned. It is a wonder to me now how I stood all this, felt I was being humbugged, played with, and yet things went on as I describe.  So I told Camille she was humbugging me. Louise got funny in her behaviour to Camille, said she would or wouldn't, and one day they had a quarrel, in which Louise insolently remarked about something she wanted, that Camille would do well not to show the point of her nose in the village any more. When alone I said to Camille, I was not to have the girl I supposed. Who hindered me? "Help me." "How?" Being in a blackguard humour I said, "Make her drunk, and then I will have her." No, it should never be said that that happened in her rooms; if a woman let a man of her own free will, well and good; if he got into her fair and square, good; a woman might do what she liked,—it was natural to have a man;—if Louise liked it, it was not her business; but she would not have her made drunk.
I said she was always in the way. She said she must live there. "You would like me to go out of town for a fortnight." Said I, "That is the best thing you can do." She said she could not.
I insisted, and at length she agreed to go for ten days, I paying her I think fifteen pounds for her lodgings. Off she went, and I dare say went to a friend's close by, I never knew. She said she was sorry she had brought the girl to London. Louise was not to know that I was aware of her departure. The last words she said to me were, "I suppose when you have her you will leave me." I replied I had no such intention, nor had I; but a gay woman is a good judge of the future.
I must now describe the lodgings more closely. The ground-floor was occupied by a cloth merchant; there was no shop, but in the windows were some bales of cloth, a brass name-plate was on the inner door, the top of the house was the cloth-dealer's store. The man was rarely in England, the entrance to the shop from the hall was always locked, and I never saw more than one man enter it.
The first floor Camille had. On the second floor was a grumpy old woman named Boileau; she took charge of the house. I scarcely ever saw the old woman excepting when she opened the door, and then she neither spoke or looked at me. Until Louise came, Camille had had a French servant. Some years afterwards it turned out that the woolen shop was used by the foreigners for forging foreign notes; the cloth business was but a mask. Camille had been there two years.
Off Camille went. That same day I was at the house. Madame, Louise said, had gone for ten days into the country, and had left word that no one was to be let in. I went upstairs saying I should come when I liked, that as Camille had gone, we could do as we liked. She looked hard at me.
"I expect Madame has gone off with some man," said I, "she will get a good lot of fucking." She had heard me talking baudy, and knew that word in English and French. Then we had breakfast together, and I made love to her.
Louise was as vain as a peacock, and excessively fond of her stomach. When she had a glass of champagne, she used to swallow it as fast as she could. This weakness and inclination in any woman places her at the mercy of a man who will spend his money; and though I did not then see the advantages of money as plainly as I see it now, I instinctively used it.
"This is jolly," said I, "we will go and have dinner, then go to the theatre, do what we like afterwards." Her eyes sparkled, but she feared to go, for "Madame was such a demon when offended." "Who would know? The people in the house would not know what we did," I replied.
It was yet only mid-day. "Nobody can interrupt us, let's have luncheon here, I will get the wine." A french restaurateur sent in a hot luncheon. I fetched champagne, then bethought myself of something which had not occurred to me before.
Camille had as said a big album full of voluptuous pictures. When she went to fetch Louise I asked her to leave it with me till her return. She said, "I will pawn it to you for ten pounds." I lent that sum. Since her return she had not asked for it, maybe thinking I would ask for my ten pounds. I knew now well the effect of baudy pictures in exciting lust, so I fetched it. We had luncheon and champagne, she laughed,. talked, objected to sit down with me, but at last was thoroughly at home with me, and for the first time talked freely of her mistress, whom she feared.
Good living heats the body and stimulates randi-ness; there is fifty times as much danger in leaving a young couple together with their stomachs full of good food, than when they are empty. A gentle heat, a sense of fullness, a gentle swelling, creeps up the stem of the man's prick, the knob feels tender and voluptuous; a gentle moisture distills in the woman's cunt, heat and an alloverish feeling, from clitoris to arse-hole overcomes her. Both are then ready for fucking, and only restrained from going at it by various social reasons, which determine our actions in every-day life. Such was our state when kissing and laughing we put away the things. Then we sat side by side on the sofa, with my arm round her waist.
I produced the book, which I had brought with me. I recollected how, pouring over it with Sarah or Susan, the pictures in my "Fanny Hill" used to throw them into a state of randiness which it was left me to appease. Susan used to say, that she only had to look at the pictures for a minute, to make her want "to forget herself." I took the book out of the paper; it was a large square book, which immediately attracted her attention. "What is that?" she asked. "Pictures." "Oh! show me." "Come on then." She sat on my knee, I put my left arm round her waist. "Give me a kiss." She gave it. "Now let me look." I had placed my right hand on her thigh outside her clothes, and was thinking, what a nice chance I had for throwing her back on the sofa, but I opened the first page. It was a fine, large coloured print (how well I remember it) of a bed-room. On the bed knelt two young women side by side, their petticoats thrown over their backs, and showing their backsides to their waists. Close by stood a middle-aged woman looking at them; through the door were the heads of two men peeping at the posterings, lust was on their faces. One of the girls had a much fatter bum than the other, both cunts were visible, the hair of one black, the other, light. It was a bet as to who had the handsomest posterior, the woman to decide was saying, "Marie a gagne, ell a la plus vonde et la plus belle."
Louise gave a loud "oh!" as if taken by surprise, her face changed blood-red, she turned the cover over and burst into a fit of laughter, tried to get away from me, but I held her fast, so she put her head over my shoulder and laughed, I laughing with her. "You have as nice a bum as the dark one," said I. "There is nothing more like that, look through it."
"I want to do that with you," I said. "Fi donc! c'est villain," said she, and pushed the book violently away. It fell on the floor, and at the same instant she attempted to rise. I held her tightly, and pulling her back on to the big sofa, her legs flying up, I threw up her clothes in front, showing her fine pair of thighs, and the next minute I had my mouth and nose buried in the hair, kissing and sniffing it, my hands roving about wherever I could feel warm flesh.

 All that suggested itself to a man whose prick was ready to discharge in his breeches did I say, but fruitlessly, she made no reply. I went back to the sofa and considered what to do. Soon I heard her moving, crept to the door, and heard the rattle of piddle. "You're piddling out of that dear cunt," said I, "how I wish I could feel it." The rattle stopped, and again I went back to the sofa.
I had told her that I would take her out, and called to her to get ready, she never answered. A few minutes afterwards I wanted to shit; it was needful to go down-stairs into a yard. Thought I, "If she hears me go down she will come out;—ah! if she does, there is the book, I wonder if she will look at it." I opened it at a picture she had not seen, tearing up little bits of newspaper, I placed them between adjoining pages, so that if opened the bits must fall out, then said, "I am going downstairs; if you won't go out, I will go without you."
I stayed at the shit-house some time, went up quietly, and heard her door close as I went up the stairs. When I entered the room I looked at the book; it was just as I had placed it, but two of the bits of paper had dropped out. "Louise, Louise, you have been looking at the book." "You lie," said she quickly. "You have, I put bits of paper in, and they have fallen out, so you must have." "I have not," said she.
"I wanted to take you to see the shops, to the theatre, if you won't answer I shall go alone, and dine alone." "I shan't come then." "Don't," said I in a huff, then went to Camille's bed-room and washed. "I am going, will you come? In another minute I shall be gone without you".
"Will you promise not to be méchant" (the French term). "I have not been wicked," said I. She was yielding; I knew she was wild to go out with me. "Will you promise to leave off talking so." "Not for ever; how can I when I have seen what I have." "I have no boots, only my thick shoes." "Come in those." "Camille has left a pair they are too big, and there is a hole in them." But it ended in her putting them on. Dressed, she looked an odd mixture of a peasant and a servant, who had got on some of her mistress' things. I was ashamed to walk out with her; she saw something in the expression of my face which wounded her pride. "You don't like walking out with me," she said, and sitting down big tears came into her eyes, "but I am handsomer than Madame, my feet are smaller although my leg is bigger; my shoes are shameful, she would not let me have boots like hers, she said she would send me home; she won't go home again, if I tell them about her."  She talked so fast in her provincial French, that I could scarcely understand what she said.
  She jumped up with delight. "But you shall let me do one thing." "What?"  "Volontiers," said she, "there is no harm in feeling a leg; in my country our clothes only just come below our knees," and so with joking, kissing, and a promise to let me put the boots on, out we went in a cab.
I took her to a boot-maker's, and fitted her to perfection; she was delighted, and in the cab did nothing but put up her feet to look at them. She let me feel her legs, after she had pulled her petticoats tight round the knee; I wanted to go higher, "No, no," she said; but I pushed up, on to her thighs.
I bought her a bonnet, but it had to be altered and was to be sent home in the evening; I got out of the cab and going into a shop without her, bought (guessing the size) white silk stockings and showy garters, without telling her. Then I bought her gloves, a collar, and one or two other things, and then we went to dine.
As I bought each successive article I told my wants coarsely enough.  "The omnibus, the omnibus" she cried out suddenly. Forgetting myself and all but my wants, I had exposed my randy doodle just as an omnibus passed, and as I looked up, there was the conductor laughing at me. I went to the N.... n hotel, then just opened, and ordered a dinner; there the collars, cuffs, gloves, and other things, she fitted on and looked at, and laid them down, so that she could see them when dining. Gloves she had never put on in her life before. The anticipation of the bonnet filled her with delight; it was handsomer she was sure, than any one she ever saw Madame wear; did I not think she would be handsomer than Madame, if as well dressed? she was wild with conceit, and told me again how Madame had refused to buy her things she wished; saying, that a servant could not be allowed to wear them. This grievance had sunk deeply into her mind. Meanwhile talking, laughing, joking, sometimes saying, "fi! fi! donc," sometimes, "oh! villain!" sometimes giving me a kiss, sometimes saying, "be quiet," she ate a good dinner, drank more champagne than she was aware of, got more and more talkative, whilst I got more and more lewd.
Undressing.—Silk stockings and garters.—The attack.— Foiled on the outside.—A battery.—A breech.—A tough virginity.—Triumphant.—Sanguinary proofs.—The second entry.—My foreskin.—Twenty-four hours fucking.— Gamahuching.—Six days pleasure.—Camille returns.
"The bonnet will be home," said I, "let us go." "Allons, allons," so off we went. It was dusk when we got in the cab. "I am to put on the stockings if I give you a pair, and to feel," I said. "No man has, c'est trop fort, you ask too much; you may put on garters below the knee." "Why not above?" "Oh! quite different," said she, "in the fields no girl minds putting her garter on before all the world below knee; but above, sh! that is disgrace." Such is fashion, I have seen an Italian market-woman stoop forward and piss whilst talking to a man (a neighbouring stall-keeper): she saw no harm. An English woman would burst first; yet if the Italian had put his hand rudely up her legs, that man might have been stabbed by the woman. Louise saw no indecency up to the knees, but above was a disgrace. "Put your boots up," I said, up they went. "I may put garter to there?" said I feeling outside. "Yes." I shoved my hand up her petticoats on to her thighs, they closed, and down went the legs: a squeal, a struggle, but on her thighs I kept it until I got to the house.
We let ourselves in, the bonnet had not come, Louise opened the window to look out for it, although it was dark. A ring came, it was the bonnet; down she rushed for it. "Bring lights, bring lights," said she taking one in her hand herself, the bonnet in the other; and rushing into Camille's room where there were large glasses; she put on the bonnet, clapped her hands for joy, and kissed me saying, I was so good. She put on her gloves, and collar, turning round to me each time, and asking how she looked.  "No," I meant to sleep there; and as I had fetched a valise, I pulled out my things, took off my boots, put on a dressing-gown. "There," said I, "I shall sleep here till Camille comes home." "There will be a row then, and what will I do? Madame Boileau (the old woman upstairs) must know, and will tell Madame," and she looked hard at me.
Then she was attracted by my dressing-gown which was showy, but soon began looking at herself again, and took off all her finery with a sigh. "I am so hot and thirsty," said she. It was not wonderful, for she had fed twice heavily, and been champagning off and on for hours, her hands were burning, heat was throughout her frame. "Let's have some more champagne," said I, and opened a bottle; I pulled my trows-ers off,—it was so hot,—being then in dressing-gown, drawers, and slippers, I made up my mind to force her, if I could do it no other way.
"Put on Madame's wrapper, if you are hot, you will look handsomer than she does." She went into Camille's room, bolted herself in, and came out looking splendid, and had only on beneath the wrapper, her coarse chemise, which I could see (as indeed I knew before) just reached below her knees. My heart palpitated, I was in my dressing-gown, she with but the thinnest garments on.
The champagne was before us, we were on the sofa, my arm was round her waist; through the thin folds of her light dress I could feel her firm haunches and well-moulded body; I talked baudy, squeezed her to me, pressed her thighs with one hand, and put the other down her bosom. Every now and then there was a scuffle, a cry, and forgiveness; then resistance grew fainter, another glass of champagne, and her head dropped on my shoulder, subdued by amourousness, and when I asked her to let me sleep with her, she only said, "Oh! I dare not. I must not." I slipped my hand up to her thighs, she put her hand down stopping its progress. "If I could only get her into the bed-room, and on to the bed," I thought and went to Camille's room, the candles were still burning. "Would you like silk stockings? here they are." "Is it so?" said she bounding up. I held them up before her. "Let me put them on." "The garters above knee, mind." "Yes, yes," said she impatiently, "Give them me".
She sat down on the side of the bed, and let me put them on, putting one leg up after the other, pulled off her new boots and old stockings, I saw her thighs, but she never heeded, so anxious was she to get the silk stockings on. I had thrown off my dressing-gown, and knelt in front of her as a boot-maker does in fitting on boots. I was so slow, that impatiently she said, "Give it me, give it me," pulled it on herself, and then put on the boot. I sat down on the floor, lowering my head and looking. Her silks and boots engrossed her. My prick came out from under my shirt, stiff, standing, and pointing up to her; she never saw it, but got up directly one garter was on, contemplated one leg in the cheval-glass, laughed with delight, turned round, kissed me; then on went the other. As I put that garter on, I kissed the thigh just above it, up she got, lifted her robe to see her legs, strutted up and down in front of the glass until tired of looking. Her fine limbs looked exquisite in the silks and boots.
I cuddled and kissed her, put my arm round her. "Do let me dear," I said. I got my hand up her clothes and between her thighs, she crossed her legs without replying.  she said, and nothing more.  "Oh! don't hurt me," she said sharply. Pressing her backwards on the bed, I lifted her limbs, she was yielding, meant fucking. I ripped open at once the slight blue bows which fastened the muslin gown, threw up the chemise, saw the well-rounded limbs in silk, the bright red garters, the thighs above, the black hair of her cunt, rolled on to her, was between her thighs, my naked belly on hers, my prick touching the cunt-lips.
The accumulators of my ballocks must have been gorged with sperm. Off and on all day my prick had been on the stand, I had feared to touch it lest it should go off, nor had I put the girl's hand on to it; the last-hour my prick had been erect without subsiding. As my belly met hers a tremor shook my whole frame. "My God, shall I spend outside?" thought I; my prick like an iron rod touched the top of the wet slit and slid right down on its passage. Is she virgin? a sharp cry, "Oh! don't hurt me," I felt an obstacle, pushed violently again and again, "oh! oh! don't," and then throb, throb, throb, with each throb a jet of sperm shot out against the mouth of the orifice I had not penetrated, I lost my power in the contentment of a copious emission, and the pleasurable certainty, that no prick had yet been up the hole against which mine had been battering.
Next was fear lest she should get up, so rapid had the spend overtaken me, that I had not got my hands under her, they were on the side of her smooth haunches. To keep her under me until my powers returned, I slid one hand under her bum, the other under her waist, and squeezed her to me, then gently loosening my belly a little from hers I pushed again where my prick laid. With what delight I found it still stiff, with an obstacle in its front; I nestled gently in the spermy lips, the heat, the smoothness gave me a tittillation as if a spend was again not far off, and that I need not have feared my manhood. With pride and power I clasped her, feeling sure she was virgin. There she lay in all her beauty, submitting to my will, I enjoying my sense of power, wriggling gently for a minute, till my prick demanded its right of entry. I pushed, a sharp "oh!" a harder push, a louder cry, the obstacle was tight and hard indeed, I had never had such difficulty before; my lust grew fierce, her cry of pain gave me inexpressable pleasure, and saying I would not hurt, yet wishing to hurt her and glorying in it, I thrust with all the violence my buttocks could give, till my prick seemed to bleed, and pained me. "Oh! mon Dieu! ne faites pas ca, get away, you shan't," she cried, "oh! o-o-oh!".
 After my second poke, I had a feeling of pleasure and tranquillity, a weight off my mind, a future of voluptuousness before me.  I saw the gauzy dressing-gown lying open, the blue bows torn, a coarse white chemise in a well pressed heap, above a navel, an ample belly, finely formed thighs, of a slightly brown tint, and on the chemise beneath large spots of sperm, patches of blood, and spunk streaked with blood in quantity filling and covering the space between the cunt-hole, getting off I seated myself by the side of the bed; Louise seemed to awaken to consciousness, and with the instinct of a modest woman covered herself by drawing down her chemise, carelessly, half-sleepily and unconsciously; more as if from habit than of thought to hide her charms. Then she drew herself to the edge of the bed, put one leg higher up than the other, resting her elbow on it, her head upon her hand, she looked at me wistfully without uttering a word.
 Louise did not speak, but she looked as if she was collecting her senses, looked so long and in such manner, that it made me uncomfortable, until her fine legs, in an attitude I had not yet seen them in recalled me to myself. "What lovely legs," said I. She pulled the chemise down lower, but the chemise was short, and she was sitting on it; she never took her dark eyes off me, but with her head still leaning on her hand, said slowly, "You have promised me never to go into the bed-room with my sister again!"
"Your sister!" What a revelation! the likeness to Camille. I wondered it had not struck me more completely before, the hesitation of Camille to let me get the girl, her wish that she had never fetched her, her half intention to send her home, the oath she made me take not to disclose my having seen Louise's cunt when she was insensible: all struck me at once.
Louise jumped off the bed in a fright, "No, no, no," she said, "not my sister, my mistress; did I say sister? I didn't mean it, it's my mistress, don't say I said sister."
I was certain she had spoken the truth: the likeness, Camille's anger when I suggested making Louise drunk, her desire to be out of the house when her virginity was taken, and other things crowded on my mind. "Deny it as you like, ma chere, but you are her sister, the very image of her."
"Don't say so." I swore I would never tell. "She will murder me if she knows. She is a demon, you don't know her,—mon Dieu! mon Dieu! what shall I do? I must run away."
I calmed her, told her no one need know, I would never tell. She believed me, seemed comforted, but still kept assuring me she had made a mistake: she meant to say mistress.

We talked by the side of the bed; then for a minute she put her head on my shoulder and cried; it was over-excitement, nothing else, no regret.
Was I going? My reply was to put on my nightgown, say I meant to sleep all night with her; I showed her my shirt, dabbed with bloody semen, and gloried in it, told her her chemise was in the same state.  She could not find Camille's night-gowns, her own were dirty, so she put on one of Camille's beautiful chemises, and over it the white robe. What a difference that entry of my prick had made: twelve hours before, a refusal to let me put on a garter, a struggle, a fight to do it; now my hand rested tranquilly on the smooth thighs, whilst she listened to the pleasures I meant to have with her. I drew her towards the bedroom, pulled off her boots and stockings, her robe, then her chemise, and she got into bed naked, and I with her. It was a hot night, cuddling was close work; lying by her side, my mouth to hers, my belly to hers, my doodle pressed close into her thighs, my hand on her bum, our legs touching their whole length, I was talking of fucking, and she listening lewdly. What a difference!  Again it was beginning to swell, she lay with her long black hair floating on the pillow, her eyes closed in baudy reverie.
I closed to her, feeling every part of her body, excepting that which I had just injured. That came in now for its share: thrusting one knee between her legs I lifted hers so as to leave room for my hand between them. She prayed me not, she was sore, ill, it hurt her. Hurt her?
 The lights were out, she was slumbering with quiet regular breath. Up came my prick again, my fingers slid between the cunt-lips, felt the signs of my last pleasure, she awakened. "Oh! don't."  Now was a prolonged fuck; then overcome with fucking, worn with excitement, I fell sound asleep.
When I awakened the sun-light struggling through the red curtains cast a pink tint over every thing. We had slept eight hours, were laying rump to rump, naked and touching, for after much fucking, the fondest lovers turn their arses to each other. What a sight she was as she lay on one side, as sound asleep as a top, there had been but a sheet over us, that was off, and she was naked.  On one side I saw the black crisp hair which shaded her seat of pleasure; on the other I could, by putting my head on the bed, just see the dark hair creeping between her bum-cheeks, her flesh had the slightly brown tint common to French women; on the bed lay rounds of spunk mixed with blood, a smear of it was on her thigh on the bum-side. My prick rose again to stiffness at the sight, I wanted to piss violently, but could scarcely accomplish it. I looked at my shirt tail.  I felt a pain in my prick, and found the foreskin a little raw.  I awakened her.
She looked at me, then conscious that she was naked, clawed up the sheet; in a minute I was close to her. She went across to her own room to piddle, then into bed again she got, and in spite of her I put it into her. I felt the cunt tightening, looked at her: her manner was different, I felt her clasping me, she was doing it involuntarily, her breath came quickly, she was spending as my spunk came, her first pleasure with me; all before had been pain,—I knew that.
Then was more fucking, then she made coffee, we had eggs, bread and butter, again to bed, and more fucking. We went without luncheon, spending the entire day in bed, feeling, kissing, cuddling, fucking, and sleeping. We were both worn out, and perhaps might not have got up, excepting that I had to dress, to go downstairs, and then felt hungry, so we both dressed, went to the same place as the day previously, had a jolly good dinner as fast as we could and directly it was over went back. I kept my finger on her cunt when in the cab, both going and coming; the instant we returned we went to bed (it had not been made), and fucked, and fucked, and fucked, and then slept a dozen hours without awaking. A lovely time it was.

 On a previous night a woman may have refused his kisses, and his embraces, and revolted at his hands touching her quim. He although longing for her, eager to join his body to hers, may have been timid, cautious in his language, hesitating in action, and until passion got full sway, might as soon of thought of putting out his doodle, and attempting to force it up her, as of trying it on his aunt.  "She has given me pleasure, I have given her pleasure." She looks at him wondering how she came to allow it, how she forgot her resolves, there need be no more disguise, nor hindrance in the way of their pleasures, of the pleasures she first tasted with him; all that she has been taught to hold most sacred from man he has seen, felt, kissed, pierced, violated, and wetted in. The virginity she prided herself on he has destroyed, she no longer shuns him, but is ready to comply with all his wishes, hopes he will compel her soon to yield again.
That was my state of mind with Louise. I had had virgins before without pride in having them, they came in my way, but never had I sought them. Two certainly had never been breached before, but it gave me no pride nor special gratification. This woman I had thought and thought about for months, coveted and paid for the sole pleasure of piercing her hymen. I had now the delight of experience, of leaving my sperm where man had never left it before. This girl of sufficient age, growth and form, I had bored with difficulty and pain, to her and myself, she had bled, I had bled, I had torn up her cuntal diaphram, had given her sexual pleasure, had revelled in her body. Shirt, and chemise, spunk and blood slobbered lay there. I was rested, she was fresh, and I sat at breakfast with as much complacency and jollity as a man could; yet beyond fucking, I felt that I did not care one damn about her, and even felt sorry. I cannot explain why I felt that, but recollect it.
We had seven days before Camille would return, in those days I more than fulfilled my word to the girl, bought dresses, a ring, brooch, umbrella, parasol, in fact I don't know what I did not give, and must have paid fifty pounds; we dined out, went to theatres, ate, drank, and fucked like blazes.
French women when they have given themselves up to a man, do so with all their heart and soul. One day as luncheon began to operate on her, she nothing loth, she strong, healthy, and with passions roused, feeding daily in a way she had been unaccustomed to, yielded freely to my wishes.   What enticed, and incited me I don't know, I never shall know why dozens of women I have had I never have done it to, but I was taken with the feeling now.  She wriggled, scarce knowing what I was about, when pushing my head away she cried out, "oh! mon Dieu, ah! quelle bete! aho!"

We had indeed no other amusement than fucking, talking about it, eating, drinking, and sleeping, which was to us all the charm of a honey-moon. I think I see her now, making my cock stiff under my direction, her amusement at pulling the prepuce up and down was great, I almost feel her bum now as she used to sit on my knee, looking at the pictures in the baudy book; we used to talk it over until we went to bed, and eased our passions, what fun when we did not mind washing each other's privates, as we did.
We used to lay on the bed with my head between her thighs, licking her quim, she playing with my prick, but I never put my pego into her mouth, nor did she ever do more than kiss it.
 There was an end of my fun, nor was I sorry.
Next day we were duller, there was nothing in her to make her a companion when not in amorous amusements. She became tiresome, and annoyed me by putting on her things one after the other, all day long, and asking me, how she looked in them, if she did not look better than Madame. Then how to tell her mistress she had got the things? what to do, if her mistress refused to let her wear them? how was I to see her again? At length we resolved to tell rousing lies about everything,—my behaviour was in fact most absurd.
The following day, a letter came to say Camille would be home that night.
Camille at home.—Her little game.—My greenness.—The house in O.. d. n street.—The glove shop.—Louise fatigues me.—Fred on the scent.—A cigar shop.—Three into one.—A clap.—Serious reflexions.—The sisters disappear.
A day or two recruited me, I wrote to Camille who met me in the street, she had sent the girl to the theatre with a friend, so I went indoors with her. "Have you done it to her?" was the first question, as if she did not know, I told her all. She questioned me with strong interest. I gave her the fifty pounds. Then she asked me if Louise had told me where she came from, and other questions, which I saw were put to see, if Louise had told about their relationship. As we talked I looked at her, comparing her with Louise, and saw the likeness stronger than ever. "Why stare so?" she asked. When she had heard of all our bum frolics she gave a sigh and said, "Well, if I had not brought her to London, she would have gone to Paris with A——— (mentioning some French name), and have had it done to her there,—so it comes to the same thing."
Then suddenly, "Are you never going to have me again?" "No," I had promised Louise. She looked amorously fascinating. "She won't know it, I have never had it since I left." She was half reclining on the sofa, by intention or chance her legs raised up on the sofa, one flat, the other foot on its heel, exposing the recumbent limbs from foot to knee. "Do now," said she. "No," but I moved from the chair to the end of the sofa, and began stroking her leg with my hand.
She lifted the clothes just above the knee. I saw the large thigh nearly up to her quim, my hand involuntarily slipped higher, and began smoothing the flesh just above the garter. "Do it now," said she falling right on to her back.
I thought of Louise, of my promise; I knew the look of both their cunts,—of Camille's the best,—desired to see, to compare it.
"I won't have her," I thought, "but there is no harm in feeling," and began playing with the hair of her motte. "Your hair is longer than Louise's." She laughed, "Do it, baisez-moi," said she.
My fingers touched the slippery cunt, it was irresistible, the next instant they were groping and feeling. "Your bum is bigger than Louise's," I said. She laughed again.
Sitting where I was, and playing at stink-finger, my position was inconvenient. "Come up closer," said she.
 Like a young virgin who says, "no, no," whilst she yields, I kept repeating "no, no". The thighs had opened, I was pulling open the lips and trying to see the red inside; and still saying "no," slid on to her, on to it, up it, and spent before I well knew what I was about. "Oh! you are so quick," said she, "you have spoiled me, I was just coming."
She did not mean to be spoiled, trying her most baudy endearments, she held me tight, caressed me, as a French woman knows how,—better than any other.
And then to business. "What are you going to do for the girl?" she asked. "Nothing, I have given her money and things worth about a hundred pounds, and have paid you, when I have her again I shall give her money." "You promised to do something more, if not what will become of her?" I did then recollect, that she had made me promise, but had attached no definite ideas to it.

I did not like either; to keep her I had no intention, did not even like the girl, though I liked plugging her. Said Camille, "We have had a row already, she won't work, and says she will wear the clothes she has got, although I have only seen a few of them." "What do you expect?" I asked. "Set her up in business, selling gloves or perfumes, a small shop somewhere."
Not liking the aspect of affairs, I left, it was the first time such propositions had been made to me. I felt inclined never to go near the house again, but had promised Louise to be with her soon, and always kept my word, so thought over the matter.
Keeping her was out of the question, I had heard that men who kept women, did so for other men; besides I had no idea of tieing myself up that way. I was not pleased with her: a fine girl, a fine fuck, a fresh woman who shivered with delight the instant the prick entered her, who was randy-arsed enough to learn anything in the way of copulation; she had been delightful to me eight days, and might for more; but she was coarse, vulgar, and had not two ideas in her head, was evidently violent tempered, and excessively vain. Set her up in business! why she had cost me hundreds to get her, why should I?
I could not make up my mind, and resolved never to go near her again; but two days afterwards, that funny sense of fullness came over my cock-knob, then the tingling, then the desire for cunt, then for Louise's cunt, the ragged slit made by my cock was before my eyes, and instead of quenching my wants in the channel of some other woman, I went there. Camille was just outside the door, and we conversed together in G.. d.n Sq....
She suggested my seeing Louise alone, and paying her (Camille) as I had done before. I did not mean to submit to that restraint, nor to keep her, but let her go her own way. "What does it matter, she must know you will find it all out, so why not at once?" I said.
"If she knows that I know it, I must turn her out" ("I don't think you would turn your sister out," I thought), "then I must put her into lodgings, and she will be gay." "I can't help that." We came to no conclusion, I left her, went to the door, rang, and Louise opened it. She kissed and hugged me in the passage, a minute afterwards she was on my knee grasping my prick, my fingers were on her cunt, our lips together; in another with tongues lapping together I was up her; in two or three minutes more we were quiet.
 She poured out her griefs, Camille had asked questions, who had been there? how did she get the bonnet, the new boots? she had refused to tell anything, Camille had said she had better go. "Why not tell Camille?" I said, "if she did not like it she might lump it, as far as I was concerned;" but the girl was evidently afraid,—or was it sham?
Next day I wrote to Louise who met me, and I took her to a house into which I had never been before. For three weeks I met her on writing to her, and we spent hours together. She now had frequent rows with Camille, each time she came to meet me she put on more of her new things; at first she only came with a dress, then with the bonnet and something else, and at last with all the finery; she looked a handsome swell, but a vulgar one. I ceased paying Camille.
One night she said Madame had had no one visit her for a long time, nor was she much out but often was all night, where she went she did not know; there was one man who came, a gentleman, she thought he was a lover of Camille's.
We came out of the house in ———— street one night after a surfeit of voluptuous pleasures, when a woman stepped across the road, and lifted up her veil. "Oh! my God, it's Madame," said Louise, and she got right at the back of me where I stood. "So," said Camille, "I have found you out, you have been in a baudy house with my old friend." She burst into a laugh, turned, and went away without saying another word.
I don't know what actuated me in my course of conduct, at that time I knew well what I did, but my reasons are not so clear, I cared nothing whether Louise knew that her mistress or sister knew I had had her, yet I did not go to the house, firstly because Camille wished me not, unless she was out, and it did not suit me to be waiting for a girl who was burning to let me have her, and also because Louise was in a funk when I was with her in the house, and Camille was out. I was convinced they were sisters, and had a glimmering, that Camille would not like Louise to know she had been got for me by her; yet I thought that it must be found out.
As Camille walked away Louise began to cry, I could not get a word from her; we walked up and down A... street, she was frightened to go home, we went back to the baudy house, and there we slept. The next day we stopped there, and I went home with her,—Camille was within.
"So you have been to a baudy house?"  "I am not a whore," said Louise taking cheek. "Ain't you?" said Camille, "I don't know that." "Say I am a whore, and I'll hit you," said Louise going up to her. "Have it out by yourselves, I am not going to stop for a row," said I, "Camille be good to the girl." "If I had not brought her from France she would not be what she is." What was I going to do with her? "Nothing." "Then the sooner Louise went out the better."
Louise sat down, and began silently crying. I hate to see a woman cry, and always had one remedy,—could champagne be fetched? Mother Boileau condescended to fetch some. We drank, I got communicative, and began to tell Camille. She cut me short, wanted to know nothing, we had been in a baudy house together, it was enough. What was I going to do? the girl would no longer work, and she was going into other lodgings, I might take hers for Louise if I liked.
It gradually shaped itself to this: I was to take the lodgings, Camille to stay rent free, a servant to be got, but one particular friend only was ever to visit Camille there; Louise took Camille's bed-room, Camille Louise's, I had in fact the pleasure of keeping both. The next night I slept with Louise in Camille's bed, slept there several times, and one morning Camille said, "You have got the girl with child, I quite expected it."
This annoyed me. I had been getting tired for some time, did not like the girl, who became so jealous of Camille, wanted so much admiration, that she quite fatigued me. She wanted to walk in the streets to be admired. I had given her more clothes, she got careless, wanted to go to theatres, and I took her. The Argyle was just opened, and I took her there, she wanted me to go there often. I had seen one or two other women I lusted for, but above all wanted to go to France with Fred who had returned from India; so her being in the family way bothered me. I got it into my head, that it was a plant, and took her to my friend the doctor who said it was a fact.
Camille asked me to meet her in G.. d. n Sq.. e, for convenience I took her to the baudy house; she had got mighty particular, made me go in first, and came in afterwards with her veil down,—she always now wore a veil. She again asked me what I was going to do. She had got the girl, and was sorry for it, at length she said, "I am going to be married, go into business, and will take her with me, if you will help, or I will get her home again to France, if you will give her money." I agreed to think of it.
We sat on a sofa. As I looked at her I began to feel a desire for her. "Let us have a kiss," said I, "for old acquaintance sake." "No," said she, "I am going to be married, am perhaps watched, am frightened of being here. I expect my friend back from abroad daily, he may have come back now. Madame Boileau knows him, I must be careful."
But how can a woman resist a man who has had her often, who knows every crack and cranny of her body, has looked at her motte long enough to count every hair on it, a few rubs on her clitoris, and back she fell on the sofa. We were both dressed, but plunging up her, and grasping her ample rump, I was soon enjoying her; when thinking of Louise, and I suppose comparing her mentally, I said in the height of my pleasure, "Oh!
"What?" said she with a start as her cunt clipped, and jerked my prick out. Cursing, and damning at my interruption I drove it up again, and consummated.
"What did you say about being like my sister?" said she as I still lay with my doodle up her, "what sister?" I replied she looked so like Louise, that she must be her sister. "But she is not, although she is like me."   So Camille washing astonished me. "I am going to be married, and must," said she.
 She was all anxiety about Louise, for I would say nothing. "You will never see me here again," said she, "nor have me again, and may do with Louise what you like, I shan't be here, you will throw her on the town". Then she veiled closely, and made me go out first. I waited at the top of the street ten minutes, out she came, veil down, and shot off in the direction of G..d.n sq..e like an arrow.
I now with perversity longed for Camille, instead of Louise, but never had her afterwards, never sent my tallow up her, although I tried once or twice.
I began going about elsewhere, sleeping with Louise at times; but she was always pestering me about being in the family way, which annoyed me; and wanted such a lot of ballocking, that that annoyed me also. My cousin Fred wanted me to go to Paris with him, Louise said I was going to forsake her. One night after dining with her, coming out we met my cousin Fred, nothing put him off, and he would walk with us. The next day he said in his old unchaste way, which some years in India had not improved, "So that is the woman your mother says she fears has got hold of you." It was the first time I had heard, that my mother had any such suspicion, for although she had spoken to me about my wildness, she had never referred to a woman; but she had told my aunt, who told my cousin my mother was awfully astonished. For that six years I had shagged all our servants under her very nose, yet she had not the faintest suspicion of it, my pranks now coming to her ears, shocked her extremely.  "Is she a good fuck? where does she live?"  "No, but I preferred her to myself." "Lord, what does it matter?" said he, "white women are scarce in India, there was one that all in my regiment were fond of, there was not an officer who did not stroke her, none of us minded; we say 'the more a cunt's buttered, the better it grinds.'" I did not see it in that light, so with the remark from him, that she was a damned fine piece, we parted.
Two or three days afterwards he spoke of her again, said he knew where she lived, so I thought he was hunting after her which annoyed me; not seeing that if he had got into her, I could have left her with good excuse.
I had tried to learn from Louise if she knew where Camille went all day, but could learn nothing, one night in bed with her however, whilst handling each other's privates, and under the sympathy generated by the rub of my fingers on her clitoris; she on my solemn promise of secrecy, told me that an old friend of Camille's had opened a glove and lace shop in O. f..d street. I saw a small shop, there was a Frenchman in it whose face I seemed to know. I waited near it one night, and saw Camille leave the shop closely veiled, and take the best way towards G..d.n sq..e. Madame Boileau was like an oyster I could get nothing out of her, although she took my money.
Afterwards Fred talked so much about Louise, that I said I kept her. "There are two there, do you keep both?" "Yes."
Meanwhile I went out with him of a night, and we had different women. One night three of us went to a cigar-shop kept by two women just by ——— it was not an unusual thing then for two to have a cigar-shop, with a big sofa in a back parlour, one keeping shop whilst the other fucked. From talking we got to business without intending it. Fred began joking the girls, we went into the back parlour, and had wine, one asked my cousin if he did not want to lie down and rest himself. He said "yes," but wanted warmth to his belly when he rested. "You may have my belly to warm you," said she. "What here?" "Oh! they can wait," said the girl, "and your quiet friend can find his tongue with my sister" (the other girl). I had not spoken, being at times timid at first with a woman, and especially a gay one.
We said jokingly, that we had no money. "I will take you all for a sovereign," said she, "and the one who I say is the best poke shall give me another half-sovereign." It was agreed, we tossed up for the order of the fucking, two went outside while the other had his pleasure. My turn came last, the excitement in thinking of what was going on made me in such a state, that I was no sooner up her than I spent; when I went out the other girl said. "You have been in a hurry." My cousin was pronounced the best fucker. Whilst the strumming was going on in the parlour, people bought cigars, and tobacco—for it was really sold there,—little did they guess the fun going on behind that rod curtain of the shop-parlour.
A night or so after I slept with Louise, I felt uneasy in the tip of my prick, and saw unmistakably that it was the clap. It was not Louise's gift, for great was her surprise when I saw her twice afterwards, and never attempted to have her. She was annoyed, and said she supposed I had another friend, and put herself in such luscious attitudes, that I got a cock-stand, and could scarcely resist putting it up her, but saying I was ill went away. Fred said he should go to Paris without me, I was to join him in a fortnight. What with being indifferent to Louise, annoyed with her randiness, her vulgarity, and temper, being in fact tired of her and the expense, and now having the clap, I determined to break off; so wrote to Camille to meet me.
I told her I had the clap. "I thought there was something wrong," said she, "but Louise I can swear has never had any other man than you, take her to any doctor you like." Then she told me, that in three weeks she meant to leave England, and Louise must do the best she could, she had taken means to bring on the girl's courses, would I send her back to France, or must she go gay in London.
I could not bear the idea of the girl being gay, so agreed to give her money to take her abroad with her, and she accepted. By her advice I wrote to Louise, said I had the clap, and feared I had given it to her, that she would not forgive me I was sure, and so never meant to see her again.
I sent a cheque to Louise, it passed through my bankers, and suppose the girl had it. Then went to Paris, my illness kept to me, so returned to London, got a little better, longed for Louise, stood opposite the house one night, nearly crossed over to have her, but resisted, and seeing a nice woman in Regent street went home with her. I was so impatient, that I pushed her to the side of the bed directly I was in the room, felt for her cunt, and spent in her in a minute, she had not taken her bonnet off. My spending hurt me, my doctor had told me I could go with a woman without fear of injuring her, but that for my own sake I had better abstain. She got up, and took off her bonnet, to see if lying down had hurt it. "I'll have you again," said I.   My doctor said it served me right.
Shortly after "lodgings to let" was posted up in Camille's windows, on calling, Madame Boileau came to the door. The two women had left, the shop in Oxford street was shut up, and I never heard of the women afterwards.
I am astonished now, that I was wheedled out of so much money for a French virgin. How I could have done much that I did makes me now laugh, I must have been very green, and Camille very cunning; but I was also rich, and generous, which accounts for much. I see now how largely I was humbugged, but cannot explain or reason about it. I am telling facts as they occurred, as far as I recollect them, it is all I can do. Certainly I had a splendid full-grown virgin for my money, the toughest virginity I yet have taken, a regular cock-bender, and had an uninterrupted honey-moon. Camille was a most superior harlot, genteel, clever, and voluptuous, such as are not usually found; with her and her findings I had a year's enjoyment, leaving me lav, blaze, and a half-cured clap. What with women, horses, carriages, cards, dinners, and other items, I was a few thousands poorer than at the beginning of my acquaintance with Camille.
It's my fate to have sisters,—how curious I—and thrice to have had the clap, and yet not three-and-twenty,—how hard!
I was very much used up, and needed rest for body and mind; never had I been so much so before.  The year's rioting with Camille and her troupe, would have tried a strong man; I never counted them, but think, that in that year I must have poked something like sixty, or seventy different women, I poked everyone of Ca-mille's acquaintances, I am sure,—so it was time I had a rest.
Enforced chastity.—A stricture.—Health restored.—Mrs. Pender.—A peep from a hay-stack.—In a cow-house.—Stable and barn.—Mother's satisfaction.
My clap brought on a stricture, obliging me to have a bougie passed every other day to stretch the pipe often, and causing me to piss clots of gruelly blood, about an hour afterwards. I dared not fuck, but once frigged, and it brought on the inflammatory stage again. At length I got better, but with a gleet which wetted the tail of my shirt through daily; doctors advised me to get a change of air, I went to my aunt's place in H..tf..dshire where I took cold baths, and did all I could to get myself well,—I was forbidden to touch a woman until permitted by the doctor.
Touch women I did not, think of them I did eternally, and deplored the time that I was wasting. I used to look at my female cousins, and long for them; my aunt whose flabby, brown-haired, thick-lipped furrow I glanced at in my boyhood I used to think about and should not have hesitated in getting a pleasure up it, had no other cunt been ready for me. I eyed the farm-women (coarse, strong, healthy bitches) with lust that made them look beauties in my longing eyes, I was boiling over with spunk, at the closet one day my turds were hard, and hurt me; the irritation affected my ballocks, my prick stiffened rigidly, I could not piss for it, the tip looked dry, as if gleet had ceased, I merely touched the top (not frigged), and out shot my sperm as I sat on the privy seat.  My prick seemed quite well, and I wanted to go into the fields to get hold of some girl doing field-work, or any woman, old or young, who had a cunt available; so I went to town to see my medical man about it. He pointed out to me how needful it was to restrain myself, I followed his advice, in two weeks was much better, and had determined to go to town to see him again about it, when I got well without him.
Some years before I had seen a farm-girl whose name was Pender, a fine lass with a merry face, and lightish brown hair; she must then I suppose have been about seventeen years old. From ogling and laughing, I got to kissing, with that she was pleased enough, and often I think put herself in my way to get it; a pinch on the bum she did not resent.  She set up a yell, my fingers were stained with her monthlies (not the only time that has occured in my life), she sat for a minute crying, then walked away, leaving me in fear lest she should tell my aunt. She never did, but avoided me, and would not look me in the face. When older, I only thought of her when there, or when my memory ran back on the quims I had touched in my then short career.
Having now nothing to do, but to read, and idle about, I was wandering in the farm, fields, stable, cow-houses, everywhere, and soon knew all the faces on the estate.  Our eyes met, both at the instant thought of the day when I got my fingers red up her petticoats; she curtsied, and blushed, I laughed with a baudy look I expect, and said, "Well you still here."
I spoke to her again on other days, her husband worked on the farm, and she was dairy-woman. Whenever I saw her my prick stood, and I avoided her, for fear of an erection increasing my gleet.
There was hay-making,—lolling about with a book I went to look on, it was at one or two fields off from a large rick-yard which was near to the farm buildings. There was a half-made hay-stack with a ladder against it, up which without any object I went idly, and laying down went on reading. It became cloudy, the headman calling out said, "We'll have rain, cut off all on yer, and get the hay up into cocks, yes you,—you,—yes you too" (I did not know who he was talking to.) Men and women crossed the rick-yard, and went off in the distance, Pender was one, and was well ahead, when he called out, "You had better get the dairy-work done though."
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 I lawk don't, I'm married."
We had moved a little, were by the hay-stack then making, a heap of hay had fallen as they had lifted it from cart to the stack. I closed with her, kissing and hugging, gave her a push, and we both tumbled into a sitting position together on the heap, she half laughing, half resisting; then kissing her, suggesting pleasure, pulling out my prick, seeing a thick pair of legs in dark stockings, big thighs, a belly, some brown hair at the bottom of it, I felt cool flesh, a wet warm split, and was on her, up her, and spent in her.
I came to myself with a tingling aching sensation inside my prick, the stiffness, and spending had hurt the urethra which had been split by the bougie. I had a notion that blood must be coming, and still stiff pulled it out of her; the little lingering sperm on the tip looked all right, she had not spent, for I don't think I could have shoved more than once before I had emitted my semen. I threw myself on her to put into her again, but she baulked me.  Furiously I pulled her back, rolled over her, and fingered her; she rose spite of me, and went off. "Pray don't come with me, we may be seen, I wouldn't for the world we were seen coming out the rick-yard together."
A minute's reflection made me wiser. I got upon the hay-rick again, saw men and women in the hay-field a long distance off, I called out names of one or two I knew,—no one answered, went into the farm-yard, hollowed there, no one answered, thence went into the cow-house,—there was she milking.
I stood by the cows, pulled my prick out, begged her to let me do it again, talked all the baudiness I could, reminded her of when first I wetted my fingers in her red-stained cunt, lifted up the cow's tail, swore if she did not let me I would put my prick up the cow.  What absurdity will not a lewd man do?
"I must get this done, I am frightened, we shall be seen, we shall be caught," said she.  I pulled her face towards me to kiss, whilst she kept tugging at the cow's teats.
When the cow was dry she took the pail across the yard to the dairy, emptied it, and came back, looking in all directions, called out some name, but all were at the hay-making, heavy drops of rain were falling.
"Come to the stable," said I, and laying hold of her pulled her in that direction.
I partly coaxed, partly pulled her, she looked uneasily round the farm-yard, and we entered the cowshed. At one end of it was a cart-horse stable, close to that a large barn. With arm round her I led her towards the barn, there was straw and hay there; but in the stable in the first empty stall was a heap of fresh straw.  I shall recollect it to the last day of my life, it was delicious.
I raised myself up without uncunting; the straw rustling and crushing under us, too excited to lay still, after I had spent. She lay in quiet enjoyment, till putting down one hand to feel round our bellies, I roused her, then she wriggled, and out slipped my cock. "I must get up, for God's sake let me."
We got up. I don't suppose that more than twenty minutes had passed between my first, and my second poke, still my prick remained stiff. She went quickly to the cow-shed, put down the milking-stool, sat down and began again tugging at a cow's teats, I again standing by her side with my privates hanging outside my trowsers.
I wanted to see her limbs, to feel her breasts. The idea of her cunt squeezing out its moisture on to her chemise as she sat on the stool, the desire to see every part of her, that irresistible want to see all, feel all, and satisfy every sense which springs up in the mind of a man when a woman has satisfied his voluptuousness for the first time overcame me. She tugged at the teats. "Oh! go, pray do,—I won't,—you shant,—ye've done me over.—oh! if you are seen here what will be said?—don't now get a poor woman into trouble, the milking must be done, if it's not what shall I say?" and tug, tug, went both hands milking.
Said I, No one would come back until they had raked up the hay out of harm from the rain. She knew better. "Yes they will if they are kept late, some one will go to the Hall for beer, and they come back through the rick-yard for cans; go away for God's sake." I went back to the rick-yard, and saw a man coming as she had said, did not know which way to make off, but the hay-stacks helped me, and I dodged up to the Hall; it was about three minutes only from the farm-yard, and led to it by a lovely shady walk.
Female servants only were in the house, even my aunt and cousins had gone to the hay-meadow; soon a man emerged from the Hall with two huge cans in his hands: it was Pender's husband. He went off with them filled I suppose. I walked across the lawn and pleasure-gardens which the fields surrounded, saw him in the distance, then made my way to the cow-house again. "He's gone." "I have been so frightened," said she,—but did not say it was her husband. She was still at the cows teats.
I would not be repulsed, nearly upset a pail of milk, and swore I would have her again. She refused, prayed me, then promised she would, if I would let her take the milk into the dairy. Permitting it, she stayed a few minutes, then out she came, looked all round, again called out a name before entering the stable. The next minute we were on the straw, my hand between her thighs. "You have washed your cunt," said I. "I did it in the dairy," said she.
 All this was in broad day-light, although evening was coming on.
She finished milking. "I ought to go to the hay," said she; but I would not let her, held her back, and swore if she went I would follow her. "What have I done?" said she, "I must be mad." Then she took as was her custom, milk up to the Hall, I awaited her return, looking at my cock from which to my delight, all signs of gleet had gone.
For some time I had had mostly gay women, this was a return to old times.  Besides there was the stinging element of adultery. I laughed to myself at the idea of her husband's prick going up where I had been three times; my prick began to stiffen, and then droop, then rise again. I felt sure that, at the feel of her quim I should be all right.
She came back. I went at her in the cow-house; the only immediate fear now was that a servant might come from the Hall. To make the story short, I got her into the barn, where the light was less; and she let me do more as I liked.
And she did have a boy that day nine months. A second time that prophecy had come true alas!
With a kiss we parted; men were returning from the fields. I got to the Hall. At dinner my aunt said, "Walter you should have given us help, all should help hay-making, when rain comes on; but you are too lazy; what have you been doing?" "Dear aunt, I have been reading steadily ever since." Said she, "How fond of reading you are for a young man of your age; how you can like to be so much alone, as you have been lately I cannot imagine, it would be better if you took more exercise."  And my mother was delighted at my being in the country, thinking I was getting steadier, and away from bad company.
Aunt at the dairy.—Morning amusements with Pender.—Female hay-makers.—Mrs. Whiteteeth.—An exhibition of cock.— Against a field-gate.—A night on the grass.—A sight from the barn-loft.—Robert the page.—Molly.
I could scarcely sleep that night. Pender seemed to me the most delicious woman I had ever poked. What if excitement had brought back the clap! what if I had clapped her! I had never after the clap had a woman until the doctor said I might. When I awakened, to my joy my prick was as dry as a bone; a woman was what I had wanted to complete my cure. The next minute my prick was stiff as I thought of Pender's charms.
It was a lovely morning, every available hand in house and farm was sent off to scatter the hay which on the previous night had been heaped up, Mrs. Pender excepted, whose dairy duty kept her at the farm. I caught her in the cow-house to her astonishment, for it could not have been more than six A.M. To rush up to her, and kiss her was instantaneous. She repulsed my wandering hands. "Oh! sir, don't now,—no never, never again (married women always say that), Missus will be coming,—no never,—I'm a married woman,—now pray,—you shant." I got her back up against a wall, my hand on her fringe, my mouth pressed to hers; how was it possible to resist? At ten paces was the stable, and the friendly hay. What a ballocking I gave her, with the summer sun shining through a window on to us, as we lay together in the early morning.
 "They be all up at the hay," said she, "but Missus comes every fine morning to the dairy (that was true), she won't be here for an hour; but if she were, what would I do? my husband will be back, he'll take breakfast to the fields, to save time, in chance of wet again coming on. Oh! do go." There was certainly all those chances. Off I went across the rick-yard, round the belt of trees which skirted the house and gardens, so that I seemed to enter from the opposite side to that where Pender sat milking.
"Is my aunt up?" "No sir, she won't be down till seven o'clock when she goes to the dairy." I took a book, sat down till the servant disappeared, then running by the path soon to be described, was in two minutes in the farm-yard. Pender was in the dairy, resistance was vain, and with her back up against the dairy wall we fucked. I cut back to the house, and sat outside reading. Soon after aunt appeared.
Said she, "What is the matter, that you are up so early?" (I usually was asleep at that hour.) "I could not sleep, dear aunt." "It would do you good if you always got up early, come with me to the dairy." In five minutes aunt and I were there. Lord, how Pender looked when she saw us together!
Aunt took pleasure in her farm. Every morning if well she walked down to it, saw how many eggs had been laid, and if butter-making, etc., went on rightly. Pender attended, whilst aunt with spectacles on was looking at the cream-pans, and asking questions, I looking as if deeply interested in the matter, was pinching Pender's bum as she stood besides my aunt. "How hot you are Pender," said my aunt looking at the woman. "It is hot ma'am," she replied, perspiration streaming down her face. How very uncomfortable she looked.
At breakfast aunt said, "What do you think Walter has been to the dairy with me." "Lor'!" said my lady cousins, "that is wonderful; he to get up so early!" "Have you had that dairy-maid long, aunt?"  "No." Then aunt told the history, which till then I did not know.
At the time of my unsuccessful attempt at a feel, she was engaged to a young man; they quarrelled, he left the village to go for a soldier, came back; again a quarrel, and again off he went. After a time he wrote to say, he meant to marry another girl. Pender was in great grief. Just then a head-man on the estate, about fifty-five years old, offered her marriage, and in a reckless state of mind, she accepted him. Directly afterwards her sweetheart came back, his statement was a false-hood, told to try her. It was too late, and he went to America. "She is a very nice, steady woman," said aunt, "they lead a quiet life, but I don't think she is very happy, twenty-three and fifty-five are not a good match."
Food was sent to some of the farm-laborers at a meadow half-a-mile off. I had the pleasure of seeing my cousins, aunt, and two of the female servants in big straw hats, go off to the field. They thought haymaking good fun. I promised to join them, and directly they were out of sight cut off to Pender, dodged all round the rick-yard to see if I was alone, and found her tranquilly churning butter. The stable still appeared the best place.
I had soon enough of hay-making myself, so laid down in the shade watching the hay-makers (nearly all women). As they moved along in rows, lewd thoughts occupied my mind. One biggish woman attracted my notice by her magnificent white teeth; looking at her short petticoats, and thick legs, lewdness increased to a cock-stand. I stared so as she approached me, that she could not fail to notice it. "It's hot," said I. "It be sir." She stooped with her bum towards me, and lying down as I was, I saw nearly to her knees. "What would I give," I thought, "to be close up to your bum-cheeks." Dirty linen, dirty clothes, sweaty flesh, none of those objections occured to me. Then I moved farther up the field to get nearer, for working along the ridges, they had got away from my resting place, and again laid down reading a newspaper. I covered my lap with it, feeling my prick beneath it, then I pulled my prick out (what risk!), and just as she heading the file of women came towards me, and began turning round; I again spoke to her. She stopped, the others went on; I lifted the newspaper; there stood my prick, red-tipped as a berry. She looked at it, at me, and putting one hand up to her mouth as if to stop her laughter, turned and followed on the others with her work. Soon returning she was again facing me, I saw her white teeth as she smiled, and her eyes fixed on me; the other women turned round, she stopped for a moment, off went the newspaper, and she gazed at my doodle for a second or two again. She was further off then, and I saw her speaking to the woman just in front of her, who looked round; I thought she had told, and in a funk left the hay-field.
In the afternoon in the farm-yard, there were people about, and no chance of having Pender. My desire to have her was intense. After dinner I went to the farm, Pender had gone home, so I strolled into the lane which the farm-buildings abutted on.
Between the Hall and farm-yard was a shrubbery path; laurels, hollies and evergreens nearly met over head. It joined a belt of walk and plantation which skirted the lawns, gardens and a small paddock, and hid the farm-yard from the house. It took two or three minutes to walk from the farm to the house. The farmyard on the other side opened on to a lovely village lane running between fields for a mile or so; on one side the land belonged to my aunt, the other to another proprietor. No one scarcely went along it but farm people. At one end were the two cottages in which I had fucked the two sisters years before; lower down past the farm-gates, were one or two other cottages in which lived farm-labourers, and in one of them the Pender's. The lane then joined the high-road, which led by a half-a-mile to the front of my aunt's house, and to the village. The farm-gates were always closed at dark. A great bell which when pulled set a dog barking was the way of getting in, after dark.
Leaving the wicket-gate ajar, I went down the lane, it was darkish, a fine summer night, but no moon.
As I left the farm-gate, female hay-makers who had worked till dark, passed, curtsying as they recognized me. I thought of Whiteteeth but saw her not. Turning back from Penders after I had strolled past the cottage, I went up the lane languishing with lust, and leaned against a field-gate. I heard a step,—it was the woman with white teeth.
"Good night." "Good night sir." "Come here." She stopped, came close, I laid hold of her arm, and drew her close to the gate. "Come into the field with me, I will give you five shillings."
 "I dare not." But as she spoke I had got her back up against the gate, and my hand on her grummit.
"My old man will be waiting me,—I can't." Lifting her clothes I tried to impale her as she stood. "No, no,—some one will pass," said she in a whisper. I put my hand on the latch, the gate opened, and we were in the field; the gate closed with a snap. I led her along by a ditch to a turn in the hedge; she made no resistance, in a minute we were buried in deep grass, my doodle buried in her cunt, we had spoken in whispers, all was silent excepting the insects which chirped in the hot summer's night.
How delightful these chance pokes are; there was my prick which had not been washed since it had left Pender's cunt, now wetting to its roots in the cunt of an unknown woman,—and I'd only just recovered from a clap. Not a word had we spoken from the moment we entered the field. We copulated in quietness. My prick did not uncunt, but I moved my arse outwards, when with tightening grasps, a heave up, and a tightening of her cunt, she whispered, "Go on doing it"
I could see the white teeth, but indistinctly, there was just sufficient light to see outlines, and anything white, but no colour. "I don't think I can, I have been doing it all day," I said.
"You've had one of the other women," said she in a whisper, "if I'd knowed it, you should not have had me," and with a jerk she uncunted me.
"No," said I, "it's a joke." She raised herself slightly-to look me in the face, but it was too dark. "I thought not," said she; then she caught hold of my prick, fell on her back again, I saw indistinctly a broad expanse of thigh and belly. "Let's feel,—let's look." Wide open were her legs in a minute, I felt a great, cool belly, strong, thick crisp hair, my fingers moved easily up the buttered love-trap, I could not see the opening.
"Hush!" said she, "there is a footstep." Quiet on the grass we lay; tramp, tramp it came, past, and died away. "I wonder who it be," said she.
She had kept hold of my prick, and soon our bellies met. When done she hurried me not out of her, seemed to like my indulgence, till she whispered, "I must go, keep here till you can't hear my footsteps before you come out, we be near the yard, and if I be seen I don't know what they will say."
"My old man's at the 'Lion,' but I'll go straight home." "Perhaps he'll have gone home." "Not he,—they allus sticks at the Public late, when they works late."
I followed, intending to walk round to the front of the Hall. Passing Pender's house, to my astonishment she was standing at the door. I went up to her. "Oh!" said she, "Pender will be home, I expect him every minute." She could hear his footsteps a mile off, but she would not let me into the house.
Opposite to Pender's was also a field-gate, I persuaded her to come out and stand there with me; the hedge hid anyone coming along the lane. "At the first sound of a footstep," said I, "I will go into the field, and you can cross to your house." I was longing for the woman, but scarcely thought I could do it after my day's fucking. The idea of putting my prick still wet with Whiteteeth's juices, into Pender's quim, stimulated me; my cock stood (in those days if it stood it was sure of doing duty). I closed up to her whispering love, and frigging her, she gradually getting besides herself with pleasure. At length up went my prick into her, and after a quarter of an hour's lamming, finished.
Meeting her husband in the lane might have caused suspicion, so into the field I went, intending to wait till he passed, laid down, fell asleep, awaking when it was broad daylight. I then waited two hours, walked round to the Hall, waited in the front till the door was opened, then went up to my room, and to bed. The servant saw me go in, and I imagine thought I had been out in the grounds without her knowing it,—certainly it never was known that I had been out all night.
I went to bed to rumple it, then down to breakfast, all the time thinking of some lie as an excuse for being out all night. "You were tired, and went to bed early I expect," said aunt. "Yes," said I. My limbs were aching from exposure to night-air, as I spoke.
Three days had made a great change in me. My prolonged abstinence from women, and now my recovery, my taking more to animal food, wine, and my usual mode of living, the quiet life I was leading, all my physical forces at their highest.  I thought of nothing else, and to this perhaps is due the variety of poking I got. Luck usually falls to those who look out for it.
I have said there was a shrubbery round the grounds connecting with that from the Hall to the farm; quite on the other side of the Hall were the stables, and the gardener's house. None of the stablemen or gardeners were on the farm-side. The servants of the Hall slipped down to the farm to gossip, but it was not allowed. The only person who regularly traversed the shrubbery was Mrs. Pender, who twice a day took milk, and dairy produce to the Hall.
Half-way down this shrubbery-path was a path connecting with that which went quite round the grounds. Cunningly contrived, and leading out of it was one to a large privy, usual in such grounds as my aunt's.
One or two days after I had had Whiteteeth and Pender, I dodged about after the latter, but there were people about. I went off to the hay-making, but there were only men carting hay; so I went sniffing about the servants in the house, but nothing came of that. In the afternoon I went to the farm-yard, and prowled about to find some chance, and place to get Pender, and went up into the big loft in the barn over the cart-shed. Why I went up there I don't know, and had not been there a minute before I heard a scuffle, and a kiss. "I shant, now—you saucy boy," said a female voice. Another kiss, and a scuffle. "I must go to the house," said the female. I peeped: it was a nursemaid, and my aunt's page. The girl ran off, leaving the page. They did not see me.
 My aunt, although always intending to dismiss him, kept him on out of kindness, but at length had said, "Page must go, I shall not give him a new suit, it will be waste of money."
This boy stood still reflecting, then unbuttoned his trowsers, pulled out a stiff, big prick, and after pulling the prepuce down once or twice, buttoned it up again; stood still, again unbuttoned, sat down on some straw, reflected, and then frigged himself. After wiping his fingers on the straw he went off, leaving me wondering at his lust, the size of his doodle, and the quantity of spunk he shot. "That lumpish boy to do that!" forgetting what I did, when only a little older than him.
"Hullo! what are you doing here?" said a voice.—it was Pender's. He made no reply. "You'd better be off to the Hall, you've no business here." "I was fetching the nurse-maid."  When the voices ceased I descended, and went to the Hall.
The head farm-man had recently died, he, his wife and daughter, had lived in the cottage in the farmyard. Pender's husband had taken his place, but still lived in his cottage in the lane. The woman whose husband had died attended to things in general, the daughter assisted in the dairy, and worked very often up at the Hall. A pretty girl of a common, rustic style of beauty, and about sixteen years old; she used to curtsy to me when she met me, but I had never cast my eyes at her. As I skulked out through the rick-yard into the shrubbery-walk leading to the Hall I met her, stopped, and had a chat, a joke, and finished by a kiss, which she took in very bad part, and wiped away with her hand, as if I was quite disgusting. She was an only child, her name Molly.
Joey and nursemaid.—The privy in the laurel-walk.—Scared.— Whiteteeth in the ditch.—The nursemaid's bed-room.—Robert amusing her.—A lost virginity.—Aunt and Joey.—Nearly caught.—Amatory instructions to nursemaid.
Lusting worse after the kiss, I went to the house. My cousins were out, my aunt taking her afternoon's nap.  I pulled out my cock when she left, and thought of imitating the page, but did not; from my window saw the nursemaid was out with the child, and strolled out to meet her.
Nursemaid was a dry, plainish little woman whom I had scarcely noticed until the previous three days. I talked to the infant, and played with him, asked her if she would like a child, if she would let me be the father, and got a chaffing reply. Suddenly it struck me from the scuffle I had heard in the barn, that she and the page were very intimate, and said as a random shot, "You would not mind Robert cuddling you, would you now?" She coloured up, looked confused, then said, as if she did not recollect, "Robert?—who is Robert?" "Fat Robert the page." "Pough." said she, "that big boy!" She took up the child, and walked off,—not to the house, but a long way away from it. After a time I followed her; she entered a grotto, or very large summer-house which formed part of an artificial ruin in the grounds, and which was the scene of an amusing adventure with this very child some years later on in my life. There she sat down.
I saw what a good blind the child was, so went into the grotto to talk to him. He was sitting in her lap. In a minute said he, "I want to pee-wee." "Hush!" said she, "I will take you for a walk." "I will pee-wee," said he, scuffling down from her lap, running outside the summer-house; turning round, lifting his petticoats, and pissing in front of us.
"You naughty boy," said she.  She snatched up the child, went towards the house, and there was an end for the time of my talk with her.
I dodged from hay-field to farm-yard, thence to the house, saw Pender, saw the young wench (Molly) I have named, looked out for Whiteteeth; it was all no go. I had dinner, then strolled down to the village, saw Whiteteeth outside the public with her husband. Back to the house, saw nursemaid, said in a whisper. "I shall come and sleep with you to-night." "That you won't," said she, "Master Joe always sleeps in my room." Randy and weary I went to bed, after nearly spending in my trowsers as I looked at my cousins' white necks in the drawing-room, and thought to myself, "I will go to ——— (the market-town a few miles off to which I have before alluded), and have a woman to-morrow."  Awakened again with a stiff one, frigged, and then got repose.
The next morning I increased my acquaintance with the young wench Molly, chaffed the nursemaid, and besought her to let me sleep with her. Again went to the hay-field, but hay-making was finished, the weather dull, and further hay-making postponed till finer weather.
Keeping a sharp eye on page Robert, I soon saw he was spooning nursemaid; detected him kissing her, and putting his hand on her belly outside her clothes.
She slept in a room which was properly entered from the servant's corridor, which connected with the best part of the house through folding doors. But a door had been made in the room from best part of the house, so that my aunt, who had had a large family could more easily see how the children when there, were being looked after. This door was just by a lobby which led to the W.C; any one going there might seem to be either going towards the W.C, or towards the servants' staircase, the nursemaid's room therefore could be entered from either door, and on two sides.
By the door on the servants' side was a house-maid's W.C and the servants' staircase which led also to the attics, where some slept, and to a lobby with rooms mostly used for lumber, and where the page had been put to sleep, away from females, or anyone else. The butler slept in a little room adjoining the pantry and plate-room, on the ground-floor.
Several days passed, I did not get a gay woman, but hunted incessantly in hopes of getting Pender, or Whiteteeth, or the nursemaid. Young Molly I did not much think of; she seemed too young, so chaste, so looked after, that I had no expectation, but do not recollect what my views about her exactly were. Then I did not care about young ones.
After a few days my luck came as it mostly has. I went again with my aunt to the dairy. Whilst she was talking to Pender a notion occurred to me. I did not go into breakfast, but waited in the turning leading out of the shrubbery between the Hall and farmyard; and hiding, saw Pender take up the milk; a few minutes later heard her returning, and stepped out. I had made up my mind to have her in the privy; have had women in similar places before and since, and daresay that other men have.
She gave a start. "Come here." "No." But I clutched her. "Oh! now pray,—if anyone comes?" "But there won't you know that,—come this way," and I pulled her out of the main-walk. "Oh! don't, there's a dear gentleman,—hush! perhaps some one is near." "Why they are all at breakfast." "I don't know where my husband is."
I had edged her down the path, and pushed her into the large privy. Pender was randy, that I see now. A woman in fear yields reluctantly, but she yields when she wants a man.
I locked the door and pressed her up against the wall. "Oh! I am so frightened," said she, "later on I'll let you,—oh! if we should be found." She was in a funk, but what can any woman do, who feels a man's warm prick outside her belly, and his hands fumbling at her clitoris? the sensuous touch goes through her like lightning. Soon we were both spending.
 "It is he, it's he!" she said in a screaming whisper, "oh! my God!" Tramp,—tramp, went a heavy male step in the shrubbery. "Oh! my God, I know his step!"
My prick flopped down, her petticoats dropped, but we stood close against the wall breathless. Tramp,—tramp, nearer, nearer it came, it passed the door, and died away in the distance. As he passed I peeped through the little red curtains over the window, and saw it was her husband's cap.
 "My God," said she, "What would have happened, if he had found me here? But what does he do up this path? he has no business here," she added.
 Such are the chances of me.
I went into breakfast. My aunt was annoyed at my being so late. A female cousin,—a pretty girl,—whom it was wished I should marry, poured out my tea. I thought, "Ah! my dear girl, if you knew where my prick has been a few minutes ago, it would astonish you."
I went through the farm-yard a little before midday into the lane, and passed Pender without speaking. I met Whiteteeth carrying a mug and other things in a basket in the lane. She smiled, I followed to the memorable gate, then stopped. "Come into the field," said I. "I can't, I'm taking my good man his dinner, some of the women may come this way." "I owe you five shillings, I'll make it ten shilling,—come." "I don't want your money." "Come for love then." "We must be quick," said she following me, and cautiously she looked round. We passed through the gates to the place where we had laid down before; now in broad day it seemed dangerously near the lane. There was a sinking in the surface a little further on where cows had trodden the ground down to get to a ditch; there she put down her dinner-basket.   I gave her ten shillings. "Give it me in silver," said she, "if I change it in the village it will be known." I took it back, gave her all the silver I had, owing her some. She said she would meet me again in the evening, unless her husband was working in the same field with her; he was mowing then.
I had luncheon, and a cock-stand again, walked round the grounds, and saw the nursemaid with the child.  She had a thin pair of limbs in nice boots. I peeped out from the shrubs, expecting to see higher, but did not. The little boy again wanted to piddle, she pulled out his cock, and held it. Whilst so interestingly engaged I advanced, she put his clothes down. I walked by her side. "You like holding that?" said I. She turned away. "Let me sleep with you." "This is my bedfellow," said she laughing, and went towards the house, I in the opposite direction of course.
I waited in the lane in the evening. Whiteteeth came along with others, eyeing me with a smile, and there was no opportunity. It was lightish. I thought to get Pender in the privy again next morning. It was not probable that her husband would pass that way again at that time. I went to bed. In the middle of the night was obliged to go to the water-closet, and sitting there thought of the housemaid, recollected that my aunt had said she would have Joey, who was not well, sleep with her that night. "Why, she will be alone that nursemaid, she is a randy one," I thought; but was by no means sure I should succeed, having known others who would go a long way, but stop short at fucking. If she resisted and there was a row, I should be obliged to leave my aunt's. All this ran through my mind whilst sitting on the water-closet. Water-closets had not long been known, they were quite proud of having them in my aunt's house.
 Cock stiffer I went towards my bedroom, passed her door, heard her moving inside, and that settled me. Going to my room I put in the candle, and in my dressing-gown went softly back, turned the handle, and pushed her door. It opened, and a sight met my astonished eyes.
  They were in the enjoyment of mutual investigation. Whether it was going further I can't say. I believe she was frigging him, although she always denied that afterwards.
I had fairly entered the room before they (so engrossed were they with their pleasures) saw me; when with a shriek of, "Oh! my God I am ruined!—go (turning to the page), go out sir, or I will scream (to me), what's he here for?—what do you here sir?"  She turned on one side without attempting to hide her legs, or breast, and hid her face crying, "Oh! what shall I do?—what shall I do?—go sir go,—I don't know what he did here," and other excited, incoherent phrases.
I do not recollect saying a word, but bolted the door by which the page had gone out, then that by which I had entered; the bolts of that had been shot, only they had not quite closed the door before locking.
She refused.  "No he ain't." "You were frigging him." "No I wasn't,—oh! I don't know what you mean, or what you are saying." In her fear, and agitation she had been betrayed into answering my assertions.
"I won't tell if you let me,—don't be a fool,—I will have you. If there is a row I will say I found you with Robert, and you and he will go out neck and crop. If they think badly of me I don't care; I shall leave, and in a few months they will overlook it; but you will have no character: you have been seen in the cart-shed with Robert." She started at that. "It's a story," said she, "who saw me?" and then she began to cry.
I pulled up my night-shirt, threw myself besides her, and pulled up her night-gown.  "I will have you," said I laying on her, and forcing open her knees with mine. Her resistance grew less. "I can't help myself", said she, "you are a blackguard, all the women say you are,—-don't,—oh! don't hurt me." "Nonsense, you have had a prick up it before." "No man has ever touched me." "Let me feel then." Her thighs slightly opened, I put a finger on it. "You have a very little cunt." "Don't be rough," said she. At length my belly met hers, my hand was round her slender bum, my prick on the slit. I pushed, it did not enter as I expected, then I felt her cunt roughly, and made her cry out.  She gave a suppressed gasp. "Oh! you hurt, oho."  We had spoken in whispers till she split, and then her cry was sharp, and loud.
 She did not close her legs.  I laid by her side talking to her, then noticing my night-shirt said, "You are poorly." "Nothing of the sort." To put my fingers up to verify that, and look at them was the work of a moment. "Then I have made you bleed." "You have hurt me very much, you brute."
I did not like the girl nor her manner, didn't feel kind as I always do towards a woman I have had.  "Think what you like, but I never have,—go away now."
Her tight cunt, her freedom in permitting me to feel it, her sulky submission to all I wanted astonished me.
She was taciturn, and when I said, "I had better go." "Go," she replied, "I suppose we shall be kicked out,—what will Robert say?" We agreed that she was to tell Robert, that unless he held his tongue he would be kicked out without a character; that I was to tell him, that hearing conversation I had opened the door; that out of consideration for the poor girl would not tell my aunt; but that I should notice him, and if I found him misbehaving himself, would tell my aunt that he was not a proper person to be in the house. Then I went to my bed-room.
I slept but a short time, awakened with a cock-stand, and slipping on my dressing-gown sneaked without slippers to her room again; knocked gently, heard a sleepy voice say, "Yes ma'am," and the door was opened. Spite of her opposition I got into bed with her, another fuck, she spent, and we both fell asleep.
A violent push awakened me. A knock at the door. "My God it's Missus." We were in the dark. Pulling my dressing-gown off the chair I slipped with it under the bed, forgetting the door thru which I might have escaped. "Let her in," I whispered. Trembling she opened it. It was my aunt. "Here," said she, "take Master Joey, he has kept me awake all night." The nursemaid put him into the bed, my aunt standing by the side, her feet actually against my slippers. "What did you lock this door for?" said she, "have I not told you always tor keep this door unlocked?" "I felt frightened," said the girl. Away my aunt went, the girl sunk on the chair. There was now a light. In a whisper from under the bed I said, "Play with the child." She got into bed, took the boy in her arms, cuddled and talked to him, whilst I slipped out and regained my room. It was not day-light.
I had had three women the same day, had washed after neither, their lubrications had mixed with mine on my prick-stem and balls. A day or two following I had a stock of crabs; were they Pender's, or White-teeth's, or nursemaid's, or did I breed them? I had all three women afterwards, and never got the crabs again whilst at my aunt's.
I had had the three women at a cost of five shillings; such luck never occurred to me before, or since.
I don't know when I have had such a jolly month's amusement as then followed, in getting first one, and then another of the women. All three met my wishes, but there were many difficulties, dodges, manoeuvres to get either of them.  She was small-boned, skinny, and her face had the expression that people have when they have just taken medicine. Under other circumstances I should never have noticed her, but the extreme smallness of her cunt was a novelty. I thought at first she was a regular intriguer, but came to the conclusion that I had had the first of her; and that until then she had been a masturbatrix, and frigged her flesh off her bones. Rub her clitoris for a second, her eyes would open wide and roll with such intense voluptuousness that for a moment her face looked beautiful. I used to tell her, that she frigged herself thin.
I took you may be sure a great fancy to my little cousin Joey, for that gave me an opportunity of getting near the nurse. She was always out in the grounds with him in fine weather. I would throw the ball for the child to run after in the direction of the grotto, then walked round to see if any gardener was near, and tip her the wink. In we would go, and either against seat, or up against the wall, or more frequently laying her with back on the big rustic table, and her legs round my hips, I poked her.   The little beggar! I wonder if in later years he recollected anything he saw.
Whether the child was old enough, or not to notice what he saw, was a subject of talk with us. We came to the conclusion, that we were safe. After luncheon, when my aunt took a nap, and my cousins went out driving (if I could avoid driving out with them, and what lies I told to do that), was my most fortunate time; for the servants were lazy after their dinner, and the garden excepting from gardeners, quite free.
The summer-house, called the grotto, was a big one, there were wide seats nearly all round, chairs, and a big table in the middle capable of dining a dozen people.  These adventures will be told in their place. There were several summer-houses about the grounds, and I had the nursemaid in most of them.
 Joey was away. She told me the page had been showing her his prick for nearly a year; and she let him come to her room that night just to see what he would do. "You were frigging him, were you not?" "I was feeling it about." Then I told her I had seen him frig himself in the barn. "The servants at the Hall wonder at your being so much at the farm," said she. "How the devil can they know that?" I thought to myself. It put me on my guard.
She swore no man had ever touched her before me. "You forced me, and made me bleed; I would not have let you, only I feared you would tell what you had seen, and I should lose my character."
"So my Fanny's small?" she asked several times, "tell me about other women's; are they much larger than mine? I know I have very little hair on mine." What nice talk we had.
She had been always nursemaid, had frigged herself as long as she could recollect, had nursed a girl eight years old who frigged herself incessantly, she had to slap her, and tie her hands to prevent it. "Now tell me truly, did you ever frig any boy?" "Never," but she had made their cocks stiff. She had frigged a girl, and been frigged in return. So much for nursemaids. She said she was 27.
The morning after I first had her, I told Robert to come to the garden directly the breakfast was cleared away. He came. "I heard a noise last night as I was passing, opened the door, and caught you; I have a good mind to tell your mistress, but the nursemaid has begged, and prayed me not; but if I hear you have ever mentioned this, or see you near her again, I will have you kicked out the next five minutes, and she too.—Be off." Away he went, without a word.
Molly and Giles.—A country ale-house.—Pender's history.— How her virginity was taken.—White-teeth's ailment.—Molly in the loft.—Interrupted. Molly tailed.
 We selected a field further off, which led to another bit of luck. She had left me, and I was stepping quietly, so that if met, no one might suppose we had been together; when I heard on the other side of a hedge, movements, and the voices of a male and female. They sat down within a few feet of where I was. I only heard imperfectly, and tell as well as I could gather what was said.
"I can't stay," said she, "mother will be after me,—she don't know I am out of the yard." A kiss,—many kisses,—a scuffle,—"be quiet,"—then all was a mumble. Then "I won't,—I won't,—never again,—you shant." "Hush!" said he, "suppose some one is near." "Do let's feel it,—let's do it," said the male, "do it once, do it twice, it's all the same once done." I kept as quiet as death.
"No" (here something I could not catch),—"no,—it warn't no pleasure to me,—I've been crying ever since,—you won't marry me after all I dare say, though I let you do it." "So help me God I will, I'll marry you." He swore quite loudly. "Hish!"  The female whimpered, then was mumbling, kissing, soothing, quietness, then all of a sudden, "Oh! you're hurting me with your fingers." "Hish!—hish!—be quiet!" Then I could hear nothing;—then, "No, I'll be getting in a mess like Bess."  "Now don't,—oh! it hurts,—no,—oh!—hoe!" The voices sank; kisses came a slight rustling, and all was quiet.
Then I heard broken words from both, but in a subdued voice "I'll never let you no more," said the female, "you go that way." Kiss, kiss, and the cut off, the female towards the gate I had entered the field by, he across the fields. She piddled, and waited till he had gone. Dodging her I moved after her, and saw her enter the farm-yard, but could not identify her. It must be Molly I was sure, no other female at that time was likely to enter there. Why Molly has been fucked!
Next day I asked nursemaid about Molly. "Oh! that's why you go to the farm so often," said she laughing jealously. "She's a good girl, her mother looks after her sharp."
I had most difficulty in getting Pender. She would not go into the privy again.  "I'll go to mother's next Sunday," said she. "If P go to the Red Lion on Saturday night, I'll be outside in the lane." We met in the lane, but I could only get a feel, and arrange about Sunday. "I'll go to mother's at ———" (the market-town), "if the day be fine; P. won't come, he don't like mother, or he'll only come in the evening."
On Sunday I rode to the town, passing Pender on the road in her Sunday finery, went to a lane where was an ale-house and bakery below, a baudy house above, and took a room (Fred told me of the place years before). Pender went to her mother's, and so soon as people were in church came to the appointed corner. I kept well ahead of her, entered the house, and after hesitating at the door in she came after me.
"How could you be such a fool as to walk about outside like that?" said I angrily, for I had feared she would not enter. "I was frightened," she replied, "and oh! I must get back to mother's by dinner-time at one, when the Publics and the bake-houses open."
It was a delicious day, and beats in my recollection many others of fevered enjoyment.  She was bashful without affection, ashamed to expose her charms, yet proud to do so to me. She was clad in snow-white coarse linen, neat and clean from her boots to her head. What enjoyment we had! how we spent!
At half-past twelve off she went; in less than two hours back she came. She had said that a friend of hers was ill, and she had promised to sit with her (a woman cocking is never at loss for a lie). It was raining. The umbrella helped to hide her, but she was nervous about being seen. I had dinner at the house, the woman cooked well; the keepers were really small traders who did not mind their rooms being used for love-making, and had none of the dirty tricks of a London baudy house keeper. He fetched me a bottle of good sherry.
I got as lewd as could be, and to her astonishment turned her face against the bed, threw up her clothes and had her with my belly against her rump. I shall never forget the comicality of that fuck, her protesting against it, and her wonderment at such an attitude. The novelty upset her.
I don't recollect much more what I did, but it was an afternoon of baudy teaching on my part, of confidences on hers; it was the first time we had a chat together on general matters. Speaking of her husband she said, "Why you have done it as much almost as he has done since we have been married." "What in a year?" "Yes, we were married several weeks afore he did it at all, so I told mother, and that's why he don't like her."
She was warmed with wine, we were on the bed cuddling, my fingers at work on her clitoris, we were enjoying each other's nakedness. I pressed her to tell me more, and now narrate briefly what I heard of her first fuck, her grievances and troubles.
"After I spoke to mother, mother said to him, 'You don't want a wife much Mr. Pender, I think.' 'Why of course I do, I should not have married had I not.' 'Well it don't seem like it', said mother.  Mother did not like to say any more, for fear he would ill-treat me. Soon after he said, 'What have you been saying to your mother?' 'Nothing', I answered. He looked queer, and still he did not do anything to me for some time.'
"When I was in bed I used to lay and cry, he'd say, 'What are you crying about woman?' but I never told.
"After that one night he took my hand, put it on his thing and said, 'Feel that lass.'
I was curious,—a man always is in such matters.  "I'm sure it was pretty quick, I cried out, and it hurt. I was all in a tremble; then he said, 'Well you were all right and tight five minutes ago.' I bled a lot."
"Perhaps your old sweetheart had done it before?" "He never laid hand on me, but to kiss me." "Nor any one?"  I recollect certainly her slapping at mine hard enough.
Then she relieved her mind. "He's not a bad man,. he don't get drunk, and we don't quarrel; but I don't care for him, and never did."  "I did not think at all about it, but in a sort of spiteful fit, when he asked me to marry him, I said yes. I didn't think about his not doing it to me much, till a woman asked me how I liked it, and how often he did it; but I told her he did it a lot. Then I talked, and found men did it often to their wives, and he does not do it to me once in three weeks. So I fretted." "What do you do?" said I. She laughed, I gave her clitoris a rub. "That's what you do?" "Yes," said she. "Do you often want fucking?" "Every day," said Mrs. Pender frankly and openly.  "I just did." Then she added that her husband knew she frigged herself, and usually said to her when she intimated that she should like him up her, "Oh! do it yourself, if your cunt's so hot, I'm tired."
She had married a man much more than double her own age, who poked her once in three weeks; this healthy, well-fed woman of twenty-three who wanted a nightly roger, and could have spent half-a-dozen times daily with ease. She now had got me, liked me, was ready to do anything with me or for me as I found out, and was sorry for it.
At six o'clock she was obliged to leave. We were both fucked out, and parted regretting that a month must pass before she could venture to go to her mother's again.  It gave me pleasure to teach her.
Next day Molly ran in my head, so I fished about to hook her. She had seemed to me so young, that I had taken but little notice of her; liking the fat-cunted, biggish-arsed females best. Now I noticed her being so plump and fresh, and wondered I had never noticed her previously. When I met her, I looked in her face thinking, "Innocent as you look, your cunt's been wetted by a man." I longed for her, but she was nearly always in the farm-yard, either with her mother or Pender, when not assisting up at the Hall; but when a man hunts a woman he is sure to get a chance, as will be seen I did.
Just after I had Pender on the Sunday, an annoying thing occurred to me. Whiteteeth worked in all parts of the parish, and she just now came to do something on my aunt's grounds,—weeding I think. Catching her one day alone I took some liberty. She resisted sullenly, looked up, and nodding her head said, "You gave me a bad illness." "What!" said I. "Did you not?" said she. I swore I had not; did she think me such a blackguard?—would she see my prick? "Then my damned old man's given it me, and he swears I gave it him," said she. She had a clap. I never had her afterwards, and was told that lots of men had had her. Fred told me soon afterwards, that he had, but that she had been quite steady since her marriage, he believed. I didn't undeceive him.
When the farm-work was over Molly stood sometimes at the lane-gate. Loitering about I saw a man named Giles there, who when he saw me moved off. I laid hold of her once or twice, kissed and made the usual approaches, at last got a hot fit of lust for her, and felt I would do anything to get her once.
I have already described the barn, step-ladder, and loft; the chickens sometimes flew up the ladder into the loft. I had seen Pender go up, and whisk them down. Looking about one afternoon (hay-making was again going on), no one seemed about, though Pender was in the dairy. I entered the barn from the brickyard side, just as Molly was going up the ladder, showing her legs innocently enough.
"What pretty legs," I cried. The girl scuffled up as hard as she could to get out of sight, I after her. She was chasing some chickens, and was as red as a turkey-cock in the face. I caught hold of her, prick standing, heart beating, and kissed her. She resisted, I put my hand up her clothes, and in the struggle we both rolled on to a heap of loose hay; I had felt the flesh of her thighs. "Leave off," said she, "or I'll call mother." Her mother was then ill in the farm-house.
"Don't be a fool," said I attempting it again.
Never shall I forget the look of the poor girl's face. "Oh!—oh!" said she breathless, "you didn't,—it's a story, oh! now pray,—oh! it's a shocking story,—I warn't in the field." "Don't.—oh! it hurts," said I repeating other words which had been wandering through my brain ever since I heard them. "I heard you and the man say that."
 "Let me do it, and I won't tell,—no one will know, and you won't tell Giles, that's certain."  "You won't tell, really now?" "Not if you let me." A little more scuffling, and I had her down.   "Where are you such a long time Molly?" "There is a hen up here," said Molly who had started up, "and I think she has laid, but can't find the egg." And Molly disappeared down the ladder. "You're wanted up in the Hall," said the voice,—it was Pender's;—their voices died away. How pleased Pender would have been had she known the condition of Molly's motte!
Nothing is so irritating as spending outside a long coveted cunt, when another thrust or two would have left the sperm up it,—it is maddening. I could think of nothing but the girl; although I had barely felt, and had seen nothing of her charms, she seemed to me perfection. For a day or two I got no chance, so I wrote on a bit of paper, "You will get into a mess, unless you meet me to-night; I'll be in the barn at eight o'clock; come in through the wicket,"—or something to that effect. It was intended to frighten her, for she avoided me. I pushed the note into her hands at the Hall.
I walked through the farm-yard, afterwards and saw her, she shook her head as I passed. I said rapidly,—Pender was in sight,—"You had better." In the evening I hid myself in the loft, allowed the barndoors to be closed, and should have had to stay all night there if some one had not undone one of the wickets; they fastened them outside.
I had been there a long time, it was dark. "I am in here till to-morrow morning," I thought, and walked up and down barely restraining myself from frigging, such was my state of lust. It was possible that circumstances might prevent her from coming, and I had given up hope, when the wicket opened, It was she; she came up into the loft; I caught her in my arms.
 said she. I could not see, but felt her tears, reassured her, told her I loved her: who would know but us two? "What harm have I done you?" said the poor girl, "Giles is going to marry me, that's different,—oh I don't know." I had pushed her on to some hay, threatening her one minute, coaxing her the next.
I was feeling her.
"Mother's better, and has gone down the lane to Pender's," said she, "if she comes back she will wonder where I am,—let me go." I would not, until I had again enjoyed her; and then the lass enjoyed me. She unclosed the wicket in the rick-yard which let me out. I got across a field into the lane, went past the farm-gates, and there stood Molly with her mother. "Good night," said I to the mother, then passing Pender's cottage, I went round, and up to the Hall.
 I could not get her, she evidently did not wish for me; I had had her against her will, and so had her again afterwards. Perhaps only seemingly against her will, for though she resisted, and accused me of breaking my word, she had spent with me, and was to spend again, perhaps in spite of herself.
I cannot recollect the name of Molly's swain, though I have tried hard, so call him Giles,—it is a bumpkin's name.
Field women.—Fred at home.—Smith, the field foreman.—A rape of a juvenile.—Funking consequences.—Nelly consents.— Fred looks on.
Strolling into the fields one day, idly smoking my cigar later on in the year, groups of girls and women were at work. I talked to the field foreman and looked at the girls, especially the younger ones, and wondered if they had smaller cunts than Molly; of one whether she had any hair on her cunt at all. Some were apparently not more than twelve years of age. I longed to see their cunts, and joked with one or two of the larger girls; but a decided longing for young cunts had set in on me. "Pender," said I one day, "what a lot of fast-looking chits there are in the fields." "They are a bad lot," said she, "there is one gal there only just fourteen in the family way."  Indeed women used to say to me, "How quick you are; why did you not wait for me?"
What with Molly, Pender, and nursemaid I was so well kept in cunt, that I only occasionally went back to London.
A wide-awake fellow was Fred. When my aunt said how delighted they all were to see me so steady, and had never seen me enjoy myself so much at the Hall before, he stared. "He goes often," said aunt, "with me to the dairy." "Yes and pats the cows," said a cousin. Fred winked at me, and when we were alone said, "What's your little game Walter, where are you cunting now old fellow?" "Cunt," said I, "is of no use, my clap's not gone; but thank God I think it's getting all right again." He was quite taken in. "You have done the best thing you could," said he "there is nothing here much to excite you, no woman worth having, is there?"
We wandered daily over the farm and grounds, smoking and talking; he had been so much away, that faces were unfamiliar to him.  said he (that was nursemaid). "That's a fine woman," said I indicating Pender. "Yes," said he, "I recollect before she was married trying to grope her, and she nearly knocked me over." "I would not mind having her." "No chance for you my boy.  "Aunt's partial to her," said I. "Don't care." "She is very young." "Tighter cunt, and more to teach," replied he,—and I noticed he began to be very sweet to Molly afterwards.
One morning we walked into the fields, the foreman came up and saluted us. He had been on the farm before Fred and I were born. "Well Smith," said Fred, "still at the old games,—any bastards lately?" "Oi am tow ould for that now Master." "Perhaps the girls don't like poking now?" "Oi they do, but they doon't like me as they did." Smith (my cousin told me), had had the credit all his life of poking all the agricultural laborers, and had been threatened with dismissal on account of it. "He might have had a worse berth," said I, "there are half-a-dozen girls in the field I would not mind sleeping with." "Why don't you have them?" said Fred. "I don't want to lose my character here."
I turned this over in my mind. We were again in the fields, on the way there he gave me a long account of how old Sarah used to wink at his having the field-girls; and indeed I had often heard him tell it. "You tell him you would like any one, and see what will come of it." There was a pretty sun-burnt girl about fifteen years of age that had given me a cock-stand. "That's a pretty girl Smith, I'd give a sovereign to have her,—is she loose?" "Don't think so yet squire, she be skittish; her sister's not fourteen, and they say she be in the family way, when one sister takes to it squire, the others generally do." "Where do you pay their wages?" I asked. The old fellow leered at me. "Why you be a taken a leaf out of young squire's book sir (it was Fred's advice); I pays them next at the root-stores," a shed about a quarter of a mile from the farm-yard, and in which he had a desk. The women waited outside the shed, each being called in and paid in succession. They were paid every night, excepting in hay-making times.
At pay time I strolled into the shed. One by one he paid. The girl I wanted came last. He told her he wanted her to take a parcel to the village. "Yes sir," said she. Off old Smith went to fetch the parcel,—it was the dodge, Fred told me so afterwards, the old goat always adopted to get a girl left alone with him.
Very randy but nervous I went out with Smith, then strolled back into the shed. The girl had seated herself on some loose straw, she got up and curtsied. "Sit down my dear," said I, "you may have some time to wait," and talked to her. "You are very pretty,—you will keep your sweetheart waiting." Smiling she said. "I ain't got no sweetheart sir." Another look or two, and my randiness getting the better of me, I began chaffing suggestively, she sat down besides me, then I talked for a quarter of an hour warmer and warmer, then kissing, tickling, and pinching her legs. This did not seem to affect her, she enjoyed it; then out I pulled my prick, and all changed at once. "Oh!" said she rising up scared to go. I pulled her back.
"Let's do it to you." "I won't." "You've been fucked." "I ain't,—I am only fifteen years old (she did not affect ignorance of my meaning),—leave me alone." I threw her down, and got my hand up her clothes. She loudly screamed, and that is all I recollect clearly; I know that I struggled with her, offered her money, told her I knew her sister had been fucked, and a lot more. I was so much stronger that she had no chance, I rolled over her, she screamed, and screamed again (there was no one nearer than the Hall), I exposed her bum, her thighs, her cunt, and all she had. I was furious with lust, determined to have her; at last she was under me, panting, breathless, crying, and saying, "Now don't,—oh! pray don't," but I lunged fast, furiously, brutally, and all I heard was, "oh! pray,—pray now,—oh!—oh!—oh! pray," as I was spending in her holding her tight, kissing her after I had forced her. Her tears ran down.
 I was now in a complete funk, I had heard field-women so light spoken of, that they were so accessible, that I expected only to go up a road that had often been travelled. This resistance and crying upset me, the more so when at length rising, she said, "I'll tell my sister, and go to the magistrate, and tell how you have served me out."
I really had violated her, saw that it would bear that complexion before a magistrate, so would not let her go, but retained her, coaxed, begged, and promised her money. I would love her, longed for her again, would take her from the fields, and every other sort of nonsense a man would utter under the circumstances. She ceased crying, and stood in sullen mood as I held her, asking me to let her go. I took out my purse, and offered her money which she would not take, but eyed wishfully as I kept chinking the gold in my hand. What a temptation bright sovereigns must have been to a girl who earned ninepence a day, and often was without work at all.
In an hour and a half I suppose, old Smith came back, he had really got a parcel for her to take. She began to cry, and blurted out that the gentleman had insulted her. "What, has he kissed you?" "More than that,—boo hoo." "What has he done?" "Been dirty with me,—and I'll tell my sister, and go to the justice."
"Pough child," said Smith, "he arn't done you any harm,—a gent like him,—don't make a fuss,—make it up,—it's all fair yer know twixt a young man, and a maid,—daresay yer wanted him to be dirty with you,—a gent like him, you ought to be proud of sich a one making love to you,—here, take this parcel, and be off."