Mary's beautiful from head to foot, one morning in the summer, we sleeping in the same bed, were very hot. I got out to pee, we had kicked all the clothes off, Mary was laying on her back with night-clothes above her waist fast asleep, I could not help looking at her thighs, which were so large and white—white as snow." "Had she much hair on her cunt?" said I. "What's that to you?" said she laughing, but went on: "Oh! twice as much as I have, and of a light brown."  said I reflectively. "Well, perhaps it is," said Charlotte, "she is a much bigger woman than me, what do you think?" I inclined to the opinion it must be, but had no experience to guide me; on the whole we agreed that it was likely to be bigger.
"Then," said she, "I suppose some men have smaller things than yours?" I told her that as far as I knew they varied slightly, but only had knowledge of youthful pricks, and could not be certain whether they varied much when full grown or not. We went on about Mary. "I know I should like to be such a big, fine woman." "But" said I, "I don't like light hair, I like dark hair on a cunt, light hair can't look well, I should think." "I like her," said Charlotte, "she is a nice woman, but often dull, she has no relatives in London, never says anything about them or herself, she used to have letters, and then often cried, she has none now; the other night she took me in her arms, gave me a squeeze and said, 'Oh! if you were a nice young man now', then laughed and said, 'perhaps we would put our things together and make babies.' I was frightened to say anything, for fear she would find out I knew to much; I think she has been crossed in love."
I was twiddling Charlotte's quim as I was never tired of doing, something in the sensation I suppose reminded her, for laughing she went on: "You know what you did to me the other night." "What?" said I not recollecting. "You know, with your finger." "Oh! frig." "Yes, well Mary does that; I was awake one night, and was quite quiet, when I heard Mary breathing hard, and felt her elbow go jog, jog, just touching my side, then she gave a sigh, and all was quiet. I went to sleep, and have only just thought of it." She had heard or felt this jog from the cook before, so we both concluded, that she frigged herself, Charlotte knew what frigging was.
"Do you recollect your mamma's birthday?" said Charlotte, "she sent us down a bottle of sherry, the gardener was to have some, but did not; so we were both a little fuddled when we went to bed. When Mary was undressed she pulled up her clothes to her hips, and looking at herself said, 'my legs are twice as big as yours.' Then we made a bet on it and measured; she lost, but her thigh was half as big again round as mine; then she thew herself on her back and cocked up her legs, opening them for a minute. I said 'Lor, Mary, what ever are you doing?' 'Ah I' said she, 'women's legs were made to open', and there it ended. I never heard her before say or do anything improper, she is most particular." If Charlotte had been older or wiser, she would not have extolled the naked beauties of a fellow servant to her lover, for the description of the big bum, white thighs and hairy belly bottom, the jog, jog, of the elbow, and all the other particulars sunk deep into my mind.

Her father wrote to know why she had not been home at her holidays, she got an extra holiday to go and pacify him; then we had a fright because her courses stopped, but they came on all right again.  The next holiday she went home by coach (the only way), I met her on the return, and we fucked up against the garden wall of our house. A month slipped away, again we spent her holiday at the pew-opener's; no man and woman could have liked each other more, or more enjoyed each other's bodies, without thinking of the rest of the world. I disguised nothing from her, she told me all she knew of herself, the liking she took for me, her pleasure yet fear and shame when first I felt her cunt, the shock of delight and confusion when on my twiddling it, she had spent; how she made up her mind to run out of the house when the milkman came, the hysterical faint when I first laid my prick between her slit and spent, the sensation of relief when I had not done, an instinct told her I should, in spending outside, the sort of feeling of "poor fellow, he wants me, he may do as he likes," which she had; I told my sensations. All these we told each other over and over again, and never tired of the conversation; we were an innocent, reckless, randy couple.
We had satisfied our lusts in simple variety, but I, never put my tongue in her mouth, nor do I know that I had heard of that form of lovemaking—but more of that hereafter. I did her on her belly, and some-thing incited me to do it to her dog fashion, but it was never repeated; we examined as said each others appendages, but once satisfied, having seen mine get from flaccid to stiff, the piddle issue, the spunk squirt, she never wanted to see it again, and could not understand my insatiable curiosity about hers. She knew I think less than most girls of her age about the males, having never I recollect nursed male children, and I don't think she had brothers.
 Is it more beastly to have it spurted up, to turn and go to sleep with the spunk oosing on to a thigh, or an hour afterwards to let a man paddle in what has not dried? They don't mind that, but won't let you look at it after your operations, willingly—why?
A modest girl lays quietly after fucking, and does not wash till you are away.    A working man's wife does the same.  I incline to the opinion that poor women rarely wash their cunts inside, their piddle does all the washing. "What's the good of washing it?" said a poor, but not a gay girl to me, "it's always clean, and feels just the same an hour afterwards, whether washed or not." Is the unwashed cunt less healthy than one often soaped and syringed? I doubt it.
About sexual matters each of us knew about as much as the other, and we had much to learn.  From Charlotte I had my first knowledge of menstruation, and of other mysteries of her sex. Ah! that menstruation was a wonder to me, it was marvellous, but all was really a wonder to me then.
After Christmas my sister went back to school, our chances seemed improving, we spent another holiday at the pew-opener's. I had got money, and we were indiscreet enough to go to see some wax-works. Next day her father came to see her; he ordered her to tell where she had been. She refused, he got angry, and made such a noise, that mother rang to know what it was. He asked to see her, apologized, and said his daughter had been out several holidays, without his knowing where she had been. My mother said it was very improper, and that he ought. A friend was with us in the room, and I sat there reading and trembling. My mother remarked to the lady, "I hope that girl is not going wrong, she is very good looking." Mother asked me to go out of the room, then had Charlotte up, and lectured her; afterwards Charlotte told me for the first time, that her father was annoyed because she would not marry a young man.
A young man had called at our house several times to see her; she saw him once and evaded doing so afterwards. He was the son of a well-to-do baker, a few miles from Charlotte's home, and wished to marry her; his father was not expected to live, and the young man said he would marry her directly the father died. Her mother was mad at her refusing such a chance. Charlotte showed me his letters, which then came, and we arranged together the replies.
She went home, and came back with eyes swollen with crying, some one had written anonymously, to say she had been seen at the wax-works with a young man, evidently of position above her, and had been seen walking with a young man. The mother threatened to have a doctor examine her to see if she had been doing anything wrong, no one seemed to have suspected me; her father would have her home, her mother had had suspicion of her for some time, "The sooner you marry young Brown the better, he will have a good business, and keeps a horse and chaise, you will never have such a chance again, and it will prevent you going wrong, even if you have not already gone wrong," said her mother.
It was a rainy night, I had met her on her return, and we both stood an hour under an umbrella, talking and crying, she saying, "I knew I should be ruined; if I marry he will find me out, if I don't they will lead me such a life; oh! what shall I do!"  Afterwards we met at the dressmaker's, talked over our misery and cried, and fucked, and cried again.  Then her mother wrote to say that old Brown was dead, and her father meant to take her away directly; she refused, the father came, saw my mother, and settled the affair by taking back Charlotte's box of clothes. I had not a farthing; at her age a father had absolute control, and nothing short of running away would have been of use. We talked of drowning ourselves, or of her taking work in the fields. I projected things equally absurd for myself. It ended in her agreeing to go home,—she could not help that,—but refusing to marry.
Charlotte wrote me almost directly after her return. My mother had reserved the right of opening my letters, although she had ceased to do so. That morning seeing she had one addressed to me, in fear I snatched it out of her hand. She insisted on having it back, I refused, and we had a row. "How dare you sir? give it me." "I won't, you shant open my letter." "I will, a boy like you!" "I am not a boy, I am a man, if you ever open a letter of mine, I will go for a common soldier, instead of being an officer." "I will tell your guardian." "I mean to tell him how shamefully short of money I am, uncle says it's a shame, so does aunt." my mother sunk down in tears, it was my first rebellion; she spoke to my guardian, never touched my letters again, and gave me five times the money I used to have; but to make sure, I had letters enclosed to a friend, and fetched them.
Charlotte was not allowed to go out alone, and was harassed in every way; for all that, I managed to meet her at a local school, one Saturday afternoon when it was empty; some friendly teacher let her in, and she let me in.    A week or so afterwards, having no money, I walked all the way to try to see her, and failed. Afterwards in her letters, she begged me never to tell anyone about what had passed between us. Her father sent her away to his brother's, where she was to help as a servant; for somehow it had got wind that she had met some one at the school-house. There she fell ill and was sent home again. Then she wrote that she should marry, or have no peace, wished I was older, and then she could marry me; she did not write much common sense, although it did not strike me so then. She was coming to London to buy things, would say she would call on my mother on the road, but would meet me instead.
She married soon, my mother told me of it; she lived twelve miles from us, and did not write to me. I went there one day, but although I lingered long near their shop, I never saw her. I did that a second time, she saw me looking in, and staggered into a back room. I dared not go in for fear of injuring her. Afterwards came a letter not signed, breathing love, but praying me not to injure her, as might be if I was seen near her house. Money, distance, time was all against me; I felt all was over, took to frigging, which, added to my vexation, made me ill. What the doctor thought I don't know, he said I was suffering from nervous exhaustion, asked my mother if I was steady, and kept good hours. My mother said I was the quietest, and best of sons, as innocent as a child, and that I was suffering from severe study—she had long thought I should; the fact being that for four months I had scarcely looked at a book, excepting when she was near me, and had when not thinking of Charlotte, spent my time in writing baudy words, and sketching cunts and pricks with pen and ink.
Thus I lost my virginity, and took one, thus ended my first love or lust; which will you call it? I call it love, for I was fond of the girl, and she of me. Some might call it a seduction, but thinking of it after this lapse of years, I do not. It was only the natural result of two people being thrown together, both young, full of hot blood, and eager to gratify their sexual curiosity; there was no blame to either, we were made to do it, and did but illustrate the truth of the old song, "Cock and cunt will come together, check them as you may," and point to the wisdom, of never leaving a young male and female alone together, if they were not wanted to copulate.
In all respects we were as much like man and wife as circumstances would let us be. We poked and poked, whenever we got a chance; we divided our money, if I had none, she spent her wages; when I had it, I paid for her boots and clothes—a present in the usually sense of the term I never gave her; our sexual pleasures were of the simplest, the old fashioned way was what we followed, and altogether it was a natural, virtuous, wholesome, connection, but the world will not agree with me on that point.
One thing strikes me as remarkable now: the audacity with which I went to a baudy house; all the rest seems to have began, and followed as naturally as possible. What a lovely recollection it is! nothing in my career since is so lovely as our life then was; scarce a trace of what may be called lasciviousness was in it, had the priest blest it by the bands of matrimony, it would have been called the chaste pleasure of love and affection—as the priest had nothing to do with it, it will be called I suppose beastly immorality. I have often wondered if her husband found out that she was not a virgin, and if not whether it was owing to some skill of hers, or to his ignorance; I heard afterwards that they lived happily.

As the certainty that all was finished between us came to me, I got better, my grief moderated, my prick expected occupation, I was horrified at having frigged myself, and ceased doing it. Then naturally I looked at the servants. The new housemaid was ugly as sin, so I turned to Mary the cook. I was then about seventeen years old.
She was now I think twenty-six or eight years old, big, stout, but as it seemed to me then, symmetrical; she had exquisite teeth, blue eyes, and a fine complexion—so fine that my mother remarked it. She was quiet in a remarkable degree, and treated me as a boy.  I thought of the light hair on her cunt, and of all I could not see, which Charlotte had innocently described to me; and the conclusions we had arrived at, that she frigged herself. Then I thought that after all, old as she was, and young as I was, she might like Charlotte, let me do her. I had once kissed her when Charlotte was with us, and she had taken it as if she was letting a child kiss her; I now tried it again, and got a quiet kiss in return; it was done with the air and manner of "There, there, you troublesome boy," which mortified me much.
I had now special tutors at home, and was at home when I liked, yet my chances with the cook were fewer than they had been with Charlotte, owing to her occupations. I was studying elementary chemistry, and when making some experiments in the garden parlour, burnt a table cover. My mother angry, said I had better experiment in the back kitchen again, so under that pretence, I managed to be downstairs frequently.
I used to watch Mary, slipping out into the outside passage leading to the servant's privy, and take pleasure in the idea of her piddling there.  I kissed her that day, asked her timidly if she had dried it properly that morning. "Dried what?" said she innocently. "What I saw you drying when you came from the closet." She turned away without saying a word.
A day or two after as she went upstairs to the parlour, I stopped, saw her legs, and told her she had jolly fat legs. She wished I would go upstairs, for I was in the way with my chemicals, and after that ceased talking to me. But it was difficult to avoid me, I got rude, would tuck my coat between my legs, laugh and make believe to stoop down to see her ankles, but she took no notice.
But if discouraged one day, I got courage the next; impelled by a cock-stand, and my mother being out, I said, "Should I not like to see your legs." For a wonder she answered, "Look at your own." "Oh!" I replied, "they are not the same, you have got a slit between them, I have got something hanging, and ready to put into the slit." "I wish you would go upstairs," said she, "you are always down here now." Then she told mother I was in her way,—I promised only to go to the back kitchen when it suited the cook, but did not keep my word.
She was alone one evening, I went home and downstairs, kissed and fondled, and would not be repulsed. At some time every woman is more yielding than at others, they always are if randy. Getting my courage up I said I wished she would let me feel her thing, then said, "Let me do you," in a whisper. It was quite dusk down there when I said it. She was speechless for a full minute, whilst I kept repeating my demand.  "I—am not a boy," said I in anger; "I have had many women, I know all about a woman's pleasure, I know where your thing is; I know why you tuck your hand outside your clothes after you have piddled." Then she pushed me out of the kitchen, but I thought she smiled.
Our family habits were much as they had been, but the weather getting finer, mother often took both Tom and the housemaid with her out for a walk; but not until the cook had dressed herself after our early dinner. Unless she took the housemaid out, I was worse off than ever. Yet my chances came.
Cook one day was alone in the kitchen darning a stocking; it was cold—the beginning of March—her feet were on the old fashioned iron fender, I sat myself down on the fender, and we talked, I laid my hand on her lap, and tried quietly without letting her know it, to feel where she gartered.
 said she. "Yes, and a good lot of hair between them."  She arose, drew some water, took it in one hand, some clean clothes in the other, and went upstairs, taking no further notice of me. I followed her a few steps up, then pushed my hands up her clothes on to her thighs, just beneath her backslide; round she swung facing me, and sat down on the stairs; in swinging round my hand came just into contact with the hair of her cunt; then with a push she sent me downstairs tumbling.  I sung out,. "I don't care, so long as I can feel you." "If I was not so comfortable here in many ways, I would leave to-morrow," said she, continuing to go upstairs, and thinking she had settled me; but I followed, tried again, and she threw the whole jug of water over me. "Now tell your mamma," said she, "and I'll surprise her, she don't know her son," and again she pushed me down.  She went up, and locked herself in her bed-room, till I was tired of waiting.
I had been a month at this fun, and as in Charlotte's case seemed not getting on at all, my experience was confined to one woman, and naturally I used to compare everything taking place, with what had taken place with her. To my inexperienced mind, there was a difference between the two women which I could not understand: when I first got my hand up Charlotte's clothes, she was as quick as me, struggled, screeched, and got my hand away, seemed in dread and astonished. When I got my hand on Mary's flesh, which I did repeatedly afterwards, she would turn round quite quietly, remove my hand with force, look at me as if she were collecting her thoughts, did not seem at all alarmed, but gave me a lecture. When she kissed me afterwards, it seemed to be upon reflection, but she did it with force, looked me full in the face, then turned away. One day she said, "I would not leave a sister of mine here, if she were young, for five times my wages, but I am old enough to keep you in your place."
Soon after mother was one day out, I at home, housemaid and Tom in the garden; it was a clear, bright day, there was a fire in the garden parlour, the garden window-door was shut, and I bolted it; it was about half-past three o'clock, the cook was dressing, I burning with lust, went to my bed-room, opposite then to her door and listened. I heard the rattle of piddle, excitement got the better of my fears, I knocked. "It's not locked," she called out, thinking it was the housemaid; I opened the door, went in and closed it.
 She turned round, and seeing me, put her hands up to cover her breasts, stepped backwards till the bedstead stopped her, and said, "Go out, mister Walter," but I threw my arms round her, clasping her tightly and kissing her on her breasts before she could repeat her request, and said, "Oh! do Mary, do let me."
She did not answer, but disengaged herself from my arms. Crafty with lust and doubtless thinking of former experience, I dropped on my knees, in an instant had her chemise up, both hands round her great bum, and my mouth buried in the hair, kissing the outside of her cunt; she sat down nearly crushing my hands, between her bum and the bedstead, I withdrew them with a cry of pain.
She pushed me away; being on my knees, back I tumbled; as I did so, caught her chemise and lifted it; she put her hands down to prevent it; I kept my hold tightly, and it tore up with a noise, to where her stays stopped it from going further; but the rent disclosed thighs belly and motte simultaneously. She rose, tried to hide her nakedness, and stop the chemise going further, her legs got somehow entangled with mine, I fell back, and she fell clean over me.  We rolled over, and struggled for a second, I saw white thighs a huge bum, and then we were both up. She opened the window and shouted out, "Eliza, Eliza, I want you."
 And in the same breath hurriedly, "Oh! my God, Wattie, what is the matter?" I felt a funny trickling sensation on my upper lip, and putting my hand up to feel, removed it covered with blood, the result of the blow of her motte on my nose, which was pouring down blood copiously, and dropping on to my shirt. The sight of blood always made me furious, "It's a blow from your belly," said I, "you did it purposely." She saw by that time it was not serious and said, "it serves you right, and directly your mamma comes in I will tell her." "Do," said I. She repeated, "You are a young blackguard."
  "I can see your cunt," said I staunching my nose. She snatched up the torn chemise, hiding herself with it. "Oh! go, go," said she, "oh! that mess, what shall I do!" and she stopped to set up the piss-pot which was laying on one side; I rushed forward, nose still bleeding, and tried to feel the half naked thigh. "For God's sake go," said she, "here is Eliza coming." I heard Tom lumping up step by step slowly, assisted by the housemaid, and bolted into my room.
I held the door ajar and listened. "Where is Master Walter?" said the housemaid as she got to the top landing. "I don't know," said Mary, "is he not in the drawing-room?" "I don't know," replied Eliza, "what do you want?" The door closed, I heard no more, but felt sure that Mary did not mean to tell. My nose left off bleeding, I washed it, and crept quietly downstairs.
Eliza and Tommy went down again into the garden; shortly afterwards down went cook into the kitchen, five minutes after down I went. It was always dullish in the afternoon there. I had thought that I might risk, and as I passed the door from the kitchen leading into the garden, shot the bolt so that, had the housemaid come down that way, she could not get in also.
Mary was sitting close to the fire. "No more nonsense I hope," said she. There was a kiss and forgiveness soon given me, in her tranquil way.
Again I sat down on the huge kitchen fender, and the next instant was thinking what I had best do.  She was as serene as if nothing had happened, and kissed me, but in the usual motherly sort of way. She rose up saying, "I must begin to shut up; what is Eliza staying out so late in the garden with that child for?" That instant I thrust my hand up her clothes, got it on to the motte, and clutched the hair between my fingers; it was easy enough, for it was about the longest and thickest motte thatch I have yet felt Down she sat, and tried to push me away, but I had firm hold of the hair, and as I did on a similar occasion with Charlotte, pulled and hurt her; she ceased to push me off, and there I stopped, my prick throbbing, and every fibre in me, palpitating with the lust of long continence. Then I pulled and hurt her again, threatening to hurt her more still unless she let me feel her; knowing the housemaid must knock before she could get in suddenly, I was bold.
She bore my tugs with a little flinching and never answered my entreaties.  I felt ashamed, but was mad with lust. "A youth like you, and so quiet as you look." "Youth! I am a man, have had women, feel me, let me feel you, oh! do feel me." I had my prick out. To get better at her, go from the fender on to my knees, and was pushing my hand between her thighs with energy. Pulling her bum back, she stooped, and her face came near mine. "Kiss me, feel me, and I will indeed leave off, I have seen your belly, let me feel it, and I will leave off." "You will break your word again," said she. "I swear not." She put her face to mine and kissed me, her right hand dropped, and gently laid hold of my prick, her thighs just so little opened that my fingers passed the hair and felt the smooth inner face of the lips; it was too much for me, for some hours my prick had been standing off and on, I had been pulling it about, longing and hoping to use it, and for a long time no emission had left it.
 Then burning shame came over me, I could kiss her no longer, dared not look her in the face, nor keep my hand between her thighs, but rose quickly and without a word rushed upstairs to my bed-room.
I have done for myself I thought, what a beast she will think me, I shall never dare to speak to her again, and was ready to cry; little knowing then that every step in baudiness, is a step towards the end, and that my spunk on her hand, would help me to shed some in her elsewhere.
Feeling so uncomfortable I went out; calling out to the housemaid, that I should be home about eight o'clock, went to a friend's, had dinner, but could not talk nor scarcely eat. My friend joked and asked if I was in love. My prick was standing again after I had eaten, I went home, making up my mind to go to bed early, preferring solitude and my own thoughts; it was about seven P. M., to my astonishment Mary opened the door. I felt my face hot, and could scarcely look at her; she was as tranquil as ever, nothing ever seemed to disturb that woman. This tranquility reassured me, the more so when I found mother was still out. The housemaid had gone out to make a few purchases, leaving Mary alone with Tommy, who she was just going to put to bed, and upstairs she went with him for that purpose, without speaking to me.
 My prick rose stiff, the afternoon's spend was the first I had had for a long time, a stiff prick gives courage, and darkness helps. We are alone, she said nothing as I spent in her hand, indeed went on kissing me when spending, what if I ask her again? What an age she seemed putting Tommy to bed, at last I heard her say, "Go to sleep, mamma will be home soon," and she went up to her bed-room. She is going thought I to sit there till Eliza knocks, and did not dare go up, but stood listening in the hall, feeling my prick and longing;, at last I heard her coming down with slow, measured steps. In the hall, I flung my arms around her, kissing and begging her to forgive me. "I could not help it," said I in a whisper, "you do not know how I longed for you." "Let me go downstairs," said she.
The garden parlour door was open. "Come in here and talk." I pulled her in with but little difficulty, pushed her down on the sofa, and put both arms round her. The door closed, leaving a small opening; there was no light, but the gleam which shot from the hall-lamp through the door ajar; I could barely see her face, and sat by her begging forgiveness and kissing, but got no reply. My prick was more than stiff, I put my hand down on her lap, on to her knees, then down to her feet, waiting a second at each advance—no movement. My hand slipped up bit by bit, it passed her ankle, her garter, and was on the flesh above—still no movement. I hesitated and begged—no reply. Up further went my hand, the thighs were not closed, but let my hand slip between them, a long drawn sigh came from her as my fingers buried themselves in a fat, warm quim. I pushed her back gently, and put her hand on to my prick; she held it tight, and in a whisper said, "Will you never tell anyone?" By my body and soul I swore it; the thighs opened wider, her body fell back and disposed itself on the sofa, my hands roved over a large expanse of flesh, I could see the white mass only, the rest seemed dark. I kissed the hair on her cunt which I could not see, felt the smooth velvety haunches, and threw myself on one of the finest, whitest and broadest bellies I ever yet have had close to mine. The thighs opened to receive me, and the next moment my prick was gliding up her cunt—she was not a virgin.
 I could scarcely realize my success; my hands felt between the fat lips, to ensure my being in all right. I was conscious of a difference between her and Charlotte, the way she lay, the size of the thighs, the quantity of hair, and a quiescent manner, made her as different as possible from my former sweetheart. Novelty made me think this one more delicious, but nature would not postpone, and was impelling her as well as me; was tightening her cunt round my prick, her body was thrilling for a spend.
We lay without stirring, or uttering a word for a long time, supremely happy; my prick lingered as if it intended to stop permanently in its trap, she made no effort to dislodge it; at last it began to shrink, then curiosity began, down went my hand between our bellies, wet as if from a bath of gruel was my doodle and her quim. Then she spoke—the first words uttered—"No—no—." The feel had such an effect on me, that my prick began again to stiffen.  I kissed and felt her, as far as my hands and our clothes would let me, she moved her bum up gently to let my hand under it, but not a word could I get from her. "Can I do it again?"  I push harder,—with a gentle heave the belly comes up, I am off on the ride without having withdrawn; was this the fist time I had ever been man enough to do it twice without uncunting? I think so.
The passage of privates was longer, I felt more movement in her buttocks, her sighs were stronger, her hand moved more restlessly over my back, our mouths got glued together. Her lips are wet, or it is mine which are getting wet? There is a new, voluptuous sensation I never experienced before, it delights me; I glued my lips tighter to hers, our heaves are quicker, our sighs shorter, I feel the least bit of her tongue touching my lips. I had never heard of that voluptuous accompaniment of fucking, and it was to me an inspiration; shooting out my tongue into her mouth,—hers comes out to meet it; they are exchanging liquids,—the delight spreads electrically through our bodies,—up comes her belly,—shorter are my shoves,—a quivering wriggle to get deeper up her—and we both spend together, as it seems with more pleasure than I ever did before. How strange I should recollect this all so clearly.
The delights of the wet kisses are new to me; although not able to see them, I thought of her exquisite teeth, and rolled my tongue over them. She kisses me, still holds me, again my hand goes down to feel the parts now separating, slobbered, and sticky with past joy; out comes my prick, and then she speaks.   Her manner was so commanding, that I let her go to the kitchen without following her. Shortly Eliza and then my mother came home.
Mad for her again, I took to my chemistry in the back kitchen constantly, you may be sure. When I got the chance, spoke of our pleasures and my hopes. "We ought," said she, "both to be ashamed of ourselves, but I especially who am so many years older than you, ought to have known better; if I am punished it will serve me right. Oh! if you don't hold your tongue! My risk is more than you have any idea of." All was said in a way as if she were preaching, and looking me full in the face.
She refused what I wanted and avoided me, but it was impossible for her altogether to escape me.  She used to dislodge me, and neither made a noise, nor uttered a word in doing so—indeed she rarely spoke at any time. But it is difficult for a woman who has been fucked by a man to refuse him again; I watched my opportunities, my conversation broken as it was, and rarely but for a minute at a time, was one repetition of lustful wants and prayers; I used to pull my prick out, beg her to see and feel it. At length she did, saying, "May God forgive me for my weakness." That day I fucked her again standing in the kitchen, and a second time a few hours afterwards in the dusk, which experience began to show me was the time she was most accessible; the other servant was somewhere in the house at the time I recollect.
After that her manner changed, she ceased to resist; but when I asked her to go to a house with me, she said, "No, no, I am not coming to that." Now, though tranquil, she was more capricious, sometimes letting me feel her, or do it to her with impatience; at other times with evident desire to please; but I was so often baulked, and I plagued her so incessantly to meet me somewhere, that at length she did, saying, "Well, it little matters, as I have made my bed, so I must lie on it." I did not know then what she meant by that.
She got a holiday, we had food at a tavern, went to the house to which I first took Charlotte, and into the same room; what a reminiscence! As I got to the door, she looked nervously round and said, "I may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb." It was a joyous day for me. Once in the house she became gay and amatory, threw off all restraint, and abandoned herself to sexual enjoyment in a way she never did but twice again.
She was simply dressed as was customary with servants in those days.  And what a sight she was. Quite five feet eight high, stout, yet as it seemed to me then, without a single part of her body either flabby or shapeless, her skin was of such dazzling whiteness that her white stockings looked dull by contrast, very light brown hair, which when pulled out nearly hung to her waist, the hair of her cunt and arm-pits in quantity of a lighter golden brown; all looked much darker than their true colour, against the dazzling whiteness of the skin. Ample calves and thighs, breasts firm as ivory, her arms to match in plumpness and whiteness, her hands alone discoloured by work, looked dark against the rest of her glorious person. I recollect this all well, and that at that time I disliked light-haired women: but in her suddenly, the light hair appeared to me lovely.
She changed in manner that day from a condescending matron, to a lover of my own age; had the complacency of a gay woman, tempered with modesty. I had no notion of baudily posturing women which I learned in after life, but had an innate love and perception of all that was beautiful, and began placing her in attitudes favorable to the contemplation of her charms. She complied with all; from belly to side, from side to back I turned her; she smiled as if pleased, curious, and astonished; and when I turned to quench my passion in her, she met me with an ardour less demonstrative, but more stifling and satisfying than Charlotte; it was a worry to think that I had twice fucked her, and seemed to have finished each time before I had began fucking.
The firmness of her flesh impressed me, whether I put my finger between the cheeks of her arse or between her thighs, I could with difficulty get it away; she could have cracked a nut between either. The next wonder was the hair of her cunt, which was long but curly; I now see that she could not have pissed without wetting it, which accounted for her always what we youths used to call mopping it, after she had piddled. The cunt looked twice as big as Charlotte's, but the prick-hole seemed to me smaller; and whether my finger or my prick was in it, seemed to grasp it tightly. My prepuce used to give me then at times pain just before, or when I spent in Charlotte; in Mary I scarcely seemed to feel it, and afterwards a quiet sort of grinding of her cunt, prolonged my pleasure until my penis left it. I was so new to the work, that all those differences impressed me, I compared and thought of them constantly.

A taste had developed as said, which I have retained to the present time. I loved to see a woman piddle, used to make Charlotte do it as often as I could, to place my hand under the stream, and feel its splash on my fingers; and if chance let me hear the rattle in a pot, or see a woman rising up from the attitude, my prick used to stand.
Charlotte I loved, and used to feel as if she were part and parcel of me for life, when I was up her, with Mary I thought of thighs, backside, cunt, and her other parts, without much liking her beyond the desire of spending in her.  How she could have permitted a young man to be so often in the kitchen, and near to female servants, seems to me a marvel of stupidity,—but she did.
Nothing opens a man and woman's heart to each other like fucking.  She did that day. She had thought me a mere boy, getting baudy with coming manhood, and had liked me. My quiet, demure manner, made her imagine that such an attack from me, was among the most improbable things; when I began she made up her mind to leave, but then came the mystery,—there were circumstances which rendered it needful for her to stay where she was, if possible—what they were she would not say. My assault on her in the bed-room and all that followed upset all her ideas, filled her mind with images of lust and pleasure, and left that undefined sensation and unsatisfied longing which is known as randiness. I suddenly seemed a man to her. My spending in her hand upset her still more. I asked if that had made her let me have her. She replied, "I gave up the self denial of years, abandoned my intentions, and let you do it; when you pushed me into the garden parlour I intended to let you as I went in, I had not quite intended before."
There was the greatest difficulty after that day in getting her, for my mother seemed always in my way, and objected to my being in the kitchen. Mary never helped me as Charlotte used, as cook indeed she could not. She ran no risks, and was never in a hurry, so where I had Charlotte half a dozen times, I could scarcely get Mary once.
She met me out again, and in a fortnight asked for another holiday. It astonished my mother, for more than a year she scarcely had gone out, and never had taken a whole holiday. What another day of ballock-ing it was, in that old, snug, baudy house—but we had a quarrel there.
Even with my inexperience, I knew she was different from Charlotte at the first poke. I used in my mind to compare the differences.  Pondering over this, I wondered if she had been done before, how often, and by how many, or had I been the first? The idea of asking her was always floating through my brain. That day I said to her as her face was towards mine on the pillow, and I was toying with her bubbies, "I wonder who had you before me." She sat up, looked me steadily in the face, and replied, "You have no right to ask me, you are not my husband." "But tell me." "I shall not, it is an impertinence; how can a youth like you know anything about first or second." I blurted out, "Because when first I did it to Char—" the name was almost out of my mouth, but I stopped in time, "when I first had a young woman (correcting myself), I could not easily get into her, it tore my prick, and she bled." "Who was it?" said she. "Oh! a young woman." "But who was it?" I did not reply. "Was it Charlotte?" and she looked me hard and full in the face. "No," said I. "Now was it? Tell me," said she bending over, kissing and coaxing me. "No, it was not." "I believe it was, you once said she was young, and had dark brown hair—it was she." In vain I denied it. "I felt sure it was, and with a youth like you! Is it possible you can have harmed that nice girl!  Then she suddenly said, "Mind, you have sworn solemnly never to mention to any living soul about me; oh! once forget yourself, and it's all up with a woman."  I again tried the question. She settled me by saying, "If ever you ask me that question again, I will not let you have me afterwards," and I never did ask her that I can recollect until just before she felt us.
But she for some time after asked ME questions about my first woman, "was she tall? were her teeth as good as hers?" and so on. How far she satisfied herself that it was Charlotte, she never said; for I don't recollect that she mentioned her name again, and I gave wrong descriptions; but may have got more information than I meant her to have, as she asked me at odd times when I was off my guard.
A third time, to the still greater surprise of my mother, she took a holiday. We spent it at the house, and she exhausted me and herself. For a day or two afterwards she gave me every chance at home, and we fucked furiously. She took to calling me a dear fellow, when her tongue was not against mine, but which was always the case when our mouths got together; and I imagine now, must have been a greater luxury to her than it was then to me. Soon after she received several letters which I said were from her lover. "I wish they were," said she. Then she took ill, and when better, refused me altogether. I had opportunities, but she would not. I said I wished I had never seen her; she said she wished so too, for she was fond of me, although it was ridiculous at her age and mine. Afterwards when mother was one evening at the bottom of the garden, Eliza gone out to the library. I seized Mary as she closed the shutters; kissing and begging her. She opened her thighs, my fingers were on her clitoris; she kissing me at intervals said: "Oh! no, oh! I can't, dear—I dare not—Walter, Walter, you must not; I am a married woman, and am going home to my husband most likely."
Soon afterwards she told me her history. Married seven years previously, her husband became dissipated and unfaithful; and from being a well-to-do tradesman, brought himself to the condition of a labourer. She forgave him until he gave her a disease, then she left him as she had threatened to do. Nothing he could say would induce her to have anything more to do with him. "Is there anything about me that a man could not be satisfied with for years?" she asked, as if I were a judge.
She went home to her mother. He appears to have been fond of her. Love of women was his great fault; but the disease so set her against him, that all his entreaties were useless. Nevertheless she was his wife, and getting into the mother's house one day, when she was alone (Mary), he fucked her with violence—and violent it must have been, for she was as strong as a horse. Directly afterwards she left and went to service in London, confiding only her address to her mother, taking a false name, and writing him, that if ever he found her out and annoyed her, she would go abroad. Her husband made the mother a sort of promise to keep steady for three months, but failed in doing so, went to America, had never ceased to write affectionate letters which came to her through her mother, and had recently written to say he had made a large sum of money, and was coming home. He had sent money home to the mother with instructions to settle it on Mary how she liked, provided she would come back to him. Afterwards she showed me his letters; they were well written, and in a style above a man of his position in life.
She had lived in service ever since; with us she had then been a year and a half, and had had but two other places. One she left because a grown up son began to pay her too much attention. At the other the master—a married man—made love to her, and one day tried to force her. I know the last place, it was about three miles from us.
This news came like a cold bath on me. It suited my taste to have a woman in the house. The idea of losing her was terrible. She refused me my pleasures. I doubted her truth at times, but whenever I did, she would fetch a letter as proof saying, "Now will you believe me?" She refused to say where her home had been, and what her real name was. I used to try to make out the postmark on her letters, but could not. They were negligent in those days in such matters, and postage was dear.
And now I again asked if she had had any other but her husband and me; by all that was holy she declared she had not. "How came you to let me?" "God in heaven knows!" said she, "months ago if anyone had said such a thing was possible, I should have said it was ridiculous; I only thought of you as a tall boy, but that day I felt that my life was passing away without the pleasures of a woman; what you did kneeling down in the kitchen upset me, then I let you; though I thought I should ruin myself by doing so."
She cared but little for her husband, for he had caused her to lead the life of a widow for years. "Suppose I had done anything wrong," said she, "and he had found it out, he would have cast me away; but you men can do what you like, and we poor women have to submit." "But why go back?" "Four months ago I would not have done so, but you have made me find out I am a woman after all; you will understand that better as you grow older. Not many would have kept chaste as I have done until that night. Now I mistrust myself. I am getting fond of you, but what could come of it? And if anything came to the ears of my mother and friends, who are respectable, I should drown myself. I have got plenty of will of my own, although I am quiet."
"You don't care much about poking?"
"I have had my wants, but suppressed them," she replied. "What did you do?" "Oh!" said she in an off hand way, "what other unmarried women do, I suppose." "Frigged yourself." She gave a nod and said, "And not often that." I thought of what Charlotte had told me, but held my tongue.
I tried to get at her at intervals, but it was no use. "It's caprice," said I with my prick out, "you let me when I wanted it three weeks ago, why not now?" "I can't,—I dare not,—it might be certain ruin now."  Twice as strong as me, she could at all times have escaped me, unless sexual desire was strong on her; desire gives a man force, but it takes away a woman's force. She rose up, nor would she continue talking, until I had buttoned up my prick and promised not to touch her; that done, she said, "Would you wish to ruin me?  When I was in trouble that way, I let you do what you like, now I am going home, what would become of me if I were in the family way then?" This explained all.
I had never given her a present, I never gave Charlotte one; having then so little money. I never thought about it. I had now more, and offered to give her some if she wanted any. She showed me a saving-bank's book. She had got nearly fifty pounds. I bought a pair of gold earrings for her, it was the first present I had even given a woman, and she was much pleased. I had I think some vague notion, that it would induce her to let me have her; but if so, I was deceived.
Mother seemed to be keeping at home to baulk me. My chemicals had been taken back into the garden parlour. I knew she wanted to go to my aunt's; but one morning it was too hot, then it rained, and so on. How I restrained myself from frigging I don't know, for I used to walk up and down my bed-room with my prick out stiff, and looking at it; at length a chance came—my last.
Mother went to aunt's, the ugly housemaid said, "As Master Tom wont be at home, do you mind my going out for a couple of hours?" "No," said my mother, "when the cook is ready." "Please will you tell the cook Mamm," said she, "or she wont let me go." I had then a tutor in mathematics who came on that day, but promised to fetch mother home. I had many times broken my promises to do so, to enable me to get at Mary. Mother said, "I hope you mean what you say, you are getting a man, and should never break your word." Anxious to know when the housemaid would go; I asked her. "I am not going till five o'clock, sir," said she, "unless you particularly want the books," "That will be too late, for I am to fetch mamma home,—never mind."
I finished with my tutor, and out I went. But at about five o'clock came home near to the house, wondering if the housemaid had gone, (Mary I had not spoken a word to), waited in sight of the house, and at last saw a form I guessed to be the housemaid's, going off fast towards the village; five minutes afterwards I knocked, and Mary opened the door. Said she, "What brings you home?" I said I was unwell, had a bad cold, could not go for my mother, would go to bed, would she fetch me a foot-bath, and went to my bed-room. I had been two days planning the thing, an old dodge it was though.
It was hot and quite light, but I drew down the blinds, undressed and put on my nightgown; she brought the bath, we talked. She had not heard from her mother again, it was strange,—was she being played with? It took weeks then to get to America. I kissed and got closer to her, we were on the edge of the bed; I spoke of our meetings and our pleasures, she avoided the subject, said I should take cold, prayed me to have the foot-bath and go to bed. Gradually I got my hand on her thighs, how could she help it?—a woman who had been fucked by me a lot of times. But she was firm in refusing me. I lifted my night-shirt, my prick stood up, the shirt hanging at the back of it like clothes on the hook of a prop,. Finding that useless, I threatened to frig myself and began the operation. She said I ought to be ashamed of myself, that she would leave if I did not desist, and turned to go, when I pulled her on to the bed.  "I dare not let you,—oh! pray!" she said, but she was vanquished, silent, and tranquilly laid down on the bed; nature was too strong for her.
I lifted her chemise, had a glimpse of the lovely plump calves, and large, fleshy thighs, as I threw myself impetuously upon her. My belly closed with hers, and pushing my knuckles through the hairs, I guided my prick towards her cunt, but alas! too late. The long abstinence and the excitement were too much for me; just as my fingers opened the cunt-lips, and my prick touched her cunt, throb—throb—gush—gush, and over my fingers, over her thighs, into the thicket of hair, on to the clitoris, on to the smooth, round bum-cheeks below—anywhere—everywhere excepting the right place, my sperm spurted out: and only the last drop remained just as I buried my prick in her.
Said she, "It is as well as it is, get off." I made no reply, hoping my sexual force would return, for my prick was in her sheath. She moved to release herself. Stronger far than me, she could in any other attitude have easily done so; but the most difficult position for a woman to disengage herself from a man, is when he is on the top of her, well between her thighs, and clasping her backside tightly. As she moved there was no strong will in it; how could it be otherwise? She in the prime of life had been without it for weeks, nature was pleading for me, my prick was in her, my spunk all about her. To gain time I promised to get off in a minute. "Kiss me." Our mouths and tongues met. It was like magic.
We sat on the side of the bed kissing and feeling each other, it was like the old time, the door wide open to hear the street door knocks. When the housemaid knocked, into bed I got; an hour afterwards home came my mother and into my bed-room. She approved of the hot foot-bath, but insisted on my taking a febrifuge.
Next morning she gave notice to leave. I never had her again. On one or two occasions I felt her, and if there had been more time might perhaps have had her. At the end of a fortnight she told me that her monthlies were all right. From that day she resolutely refused to even let me feel her. "I don't much care about going back," said she; "I don't think I shall be happy, but I do it for the best; at all events I shall have a home."  "I like you very much, and shall always think of you." I never heard of her after, and with her, passed from me the woman who is still in my recollection as one of the most beautiful, and perfect in form; as one who gave me the greatest sexual pleasure,—but I was of course very young and inexperienced.
My mother remarked that she was the most trustworthy servant she ever had; but that there was a mystery about her. Her boxes were labelled for a place that the coach would not take her to, and her boxes were not like a servant's. "I think she has been crossed in love and ran away," said mother. Said I, "Perhaps she had gone off with a bobby," it was a current joke then, policemen not having been long invented.  I began to see plainer than ever, that I could humbug mother after that.
Many of our conversations are told here in her very words, others as nearly as I can recollect them. I have often wondered at the way this woman behaved to me, talked to me, and all about her. The circumstances as they occurred, even at the time seemed peculiar; I felt as if I was wicked in getting into her, almost as if I was going to poke my mother; but I cannot attempt to analyze motives or sensations, I simply narrate facts.
Again lonely, I not only wanted cunt, but also the society of a woman, it was so sweet to see and talk, to some one I fucked; to do so secretly, was an additional charm, and I used to feel quite sad. I was then about in my eighteenth year.
At the Manor house.—Fred's amours.—Sarah and Mary.—What drink and money does.—My second virgin.—My first whore.— Double fucking.—Gamahucking.—Minette.—A belly up and down.
One aunt as said lived in H...shire, a widow; her son, my cousin Fred, was preparing for the Army. I wanted a change, and went by advice to stay there. Fred was a year older than me, wild and baudy to the day of his death, he talked from boyhood incessantly about women. I had not seen him for some time, and he told me of his amours, asking me about mine. I let him know all, without disclosing names; he told me in nearly the words, that it was "a lie," for he had heard my mother say, that I was the steadiest young fellow possible, and she could trust me anywhere. This, coupled with my quiet look, and the care I took not to divulge names, made him disbelieve me; but I disclosed so many facts about women's nature, that he was somewhat astonished. He told me what he had done, about having had the clap, and what to do if I got it; then he had seduced a cottager's daughter on the estate; but his description of the taking, did not accord with my limited experience. One day he pointed the girl out to me at the cottage door, and said he now had her whenever he wanted.
She was a great coarse wench, whom he had seen in my aunt's fields. He had caught her piddling on one side of a hedge; she saw him looking at the operation from a ditch, and abused him roundly for it; it ended in an acquaintance, and his taking her virginity one evening on a hay-cock,—that was his account of it.
Her father was a labourer on my aunt's estate, the girl lived with him and a younger sister, her name was Sarah; he expatiated on her charm from backside to bubbies, but it was soon evident to me, that with this woman it was no money, no cunt; for he borrowed money of me to give her. I had squeezed money out of my aunt, my guardian and mother, and had about ten pounds,—a very large sum for me then, so I lent him a few shillings.
He had his shove as he called it, and triumphantly gave me again such account of his operations, and the charms of the lady, that I who had been some time without poking, wondered if the girl would let me; arguing to myself, he gives her money—my girls never wanted money,—why should his? He had been dinning into my ears, that all women would let men for money, or presents, or else from lust. "Kiss and grope, and if they don't cry out, show them your prick and go at them." These maxims much impressed me.
"Fred," said my aunt at breakfast, "ride over to Brown about his rent, you will be sure to find him at the corn market," and she gave him other commissions at the market town. I promised to ride with him, but had been tortured with randiness about this great wench of his; so made some excuse, and as soon as he was well off, sauntered towards the cottage, which was about half a mile from the Hall.
It was one of a pair in a lane. Scarcely anyone passed them excepting people on my aunt's lands. One was empty. The girl was sweeping in front of the cottage, the door was wide open. I gave her a nod, she dropped a respectful curtsey. Looking round and seeing no one, I said, "May I come in and rest, for it is hot and I am tired?" "Yes sir," said she, and in I went, she giving me a chair; then she finished her sweeping. Meanwhile I had determined to try it on. "Father at home?" "No sir, he be working in the Seven-Acre field." "Where is your sister?" "At mill, sir"—meaning a paper mill. I thought of Fred. It was my first offer, and scarcely knew how to make it, but chucking her under the chin said, "I wish you would let me—" "What, sir?" "Do it to you," said I boldly, "and I will give you five shillings," producing the money; I knew it was what Fred gave her usually.
She looked at me and the five shillings, which was then more than her wages for a week's work in the fields, burst into laughter and said, "Why, who would have thought a gentleman from the Hall would say that to a poor girl like me." "Let me do it," said I hurredly, "if you wont I must go—I will give you seven and six pence." "You wont tell the young squire?" said she—meaning Fred. "Of course not." She went to the door, looked both ways, then at the clock, shut the door and bolted it without another word.
The house consisted of a kitchen, a bed-room, leading out of it, and a wash-house. She opened the bedroom door, there were two beds which almost filled the room; at the foot of one was a window, by its side a wash-stand. She got on to the largest bed saying, "Make haste." I pulled up her clothes to her navel and looked. "Oh! make haste," said she. But I could not, it was the third cunt I had seen, and I paused to contemplate her.  The bed beneath was white and clean, which made her things look dirtier; it was different to what I had been accustomed to. I looked too long, "Better make haste, for father will be home to dinner," said she.
I put my hand to her cunt, she opened her thighs, and I saw the cleft, with a pair of lips on each side like sausages, a dark vermillion strong clitoris sloped down and hid itself between the lips, in the recesses of the cock-trap; the strong light from the window enabled me to see it as plainly as if under a microscope.  No sooner was I lodged in her, than arse, cunt, thighs and belly, all worked energetically, and in a minute I spent.
I got on my knees, contemplating the sausage lips half open, from which my sperm was oozing, and then got off sorry it had been so quick a business. She laid without moving and looking kindly at me said, "Ye may ha me agin an yer loike." "But your father will be home?" "In half an hour," said she. "I don't think I can," said I. Such coolness in a woman was new to me, I scarcely knew what to make of it.  She opened her legs wider in a most condescending manner and I began feeling it.
I fucked quietly, but it was now her turn; she heaved and wriggled so that once she threw my prick out of her, but soon had it in again. "Shove, shove," said she suddenly, and I shoved with all my might, she clipped my arse so tightly that she must have left the marks of her fingers on it, then with a close wriggle and a deep sigh, she lay still, her face as red as fire, and left me to finish by my own exertions.
I felt the same squeeze of the cunt as I withdrew, one of those delicious contraction which women of strong muscular power in their privates can give; not all can do it. Those who cannot never can understand it.
She got up, and tucked her chemise between her legs to dry her split, she did not wash it. "I am always alone," said she, "between eight and twelve just now," and as any woman just then answered my wants, I made opportunities, and I had her again two or three times, till a rare bit of luck occurred to me.
We were in the bed-room one hot day; to make it cooler I took off trowsers and drawers, laid them on a chair, carefully rolled my shirt up round my waist, so as to prevent spunk falling upon it, and thus naked from my boots to waist, laid myself on the top of my rollicking, belly-heaving, rump-wriggling country lass.
I always gave her five shillings before I began; she had taken a letch for me, or else being hot cunted, and not getting it done to her often, dearly liked my poking her; and seeming to want it that day unusually, began her heaving and wriggling energetically. We were well on towards our spend, when with a loud cry of "Oh! my God!" she pushed me off, and wriggled to the bedside. I got off, and saw a sturdy country girl of about fifteen or sixteen years, standing in the bed-room door looking at us with a broad grin, mixed with astonishment, upon her face.
For an instant nobody spoke. Then the girl said with a malicious grin, "pretty goings on Sarah, if fearther knowed un—" "How dare you stand looking at me?" said Sarah. "It's my room as well as yourn," said Martha, for that was her name; and nothing further was said then. But Martha's eyes fixed on me as I sat naked up to my waist with my prick wet, rigid, red, throbbing, and all but involuntarily jerking out its sperm.  Sarah saw my state, and began pulling down my shirt. "Go out of the room," said she to her sister.  "Oh! for God's sake, don't sir," said she. With a grin out went young sister Martha into the kitchen, and then Sarah began to blubber, "If she tells fearther, he will turn me out into the streets."
"Don't be a fool," said I, "why should she tell?" "Because we are bad friends." "Has she not done it?" "No, she is not sixteen." "How do you know she has not?" "Why we sleep together and I know." "Who sleeps in the other bed?" "Fearther." "In the same room?" "Yes." "Don't you know anything against her?" "No, last hay-making I seed a young man trying to put his hands up her clothes, that's all; she has only been a woman a few months." If she tells of her, she will tell of me, I thought. It might come to my aunt's ears, Fred would know, and I should get into a scrape.
"It is a pity she has not done it," said I, "for then she would not tell." "I wish she had," she replied. One thing suggested another. "She knows all about what we were doing?" Sarah nodded. "Get her to promise not to tell, and get her to let me do it to her, and I will give you two pounds," said I, taking the money out of my purse.
It was more money than she had ever had in her life at one time, her eyes glistened; she was silent a minute as if reflecting, then said, "She has always been unkind to me, and she shant get me turned out if I can help it." Then after farther talk, some hesitation, and asking me if I was sure I would give her the money, she said, "I'll try, let's have a jolly good drink, then I'll leave you together," and we went into the kitchen. I saw her dodge.

"You won't tell father," said Sarah in a smooth tone. No reply but a grin. "If you do, I will tell him I saw young Smith's hand up your clothes." "It's a lie."
"Yes, he did, and you know you have seen all he has got to show." "You are a liar," said Martha. Sarah turned to me and said, "Yes, she did, we both saw him leaking, and a dozen more chaps." "She saw their cocks?" said I. "Yes." "You took me to see them, you bitch," said Martha bursting out in a rage. "You did not want much taking, what did you say, and what did you do in bed that night, when we talked about it?" "You are a wicked wretch, to talk like that before a strange young man," said Martha and bounced out of the cottage.
In a short time she came in again, the oldest told me scandals she knew about her sister, and made her so wild, that they nearly fought. I stopped them, they made it up, and I sent off the eldest to fetch shrub, gin and peppermint; it was a good mile to the tavern in the village.
When she had gone I told Martha I hoped she would do no mischief.  She had seen me half naked, how long she had been watching I knew not, but it was certain she had seen me shoving as hard as I could between the naked thighs of her sister, and that was well calculated to make her randy and ready for the advances of a man. "Here is five shillings, don't say anything my dear." "I won't say nothing," said she taking the money. Then I kissed her again, and we talked on.
"How did you like him feeling you?" I asked, "was he stiff?" No reply. "Was it not nice when he got his hand on your thigh?" Still no reply. "You thought it nice when in bed, Sarah says." "Sarah tells a wicked story," she burst out. "What does she tell?" "I don't know." "I will tell you my dear; you talked about Smith's doodle and the other men's you saw pissing." "You are the gentleman from London stopping at the Hall," she replied, "so you had better go back and leave us poor girls alone," and she looked out of the window again.
"I am at the Hall," said I putting my hand round her waist, "and like pretty girls," and I kissed her until she seemed mollified and said, "What can you want in troubling poor girls like us?" "You are as handsome as a duchess, and I want you to do the same as they do." "What is that?" said she innocently. "Fuck," said I boldly. She turned away looking very confused. "You saw me on your sister, between her thighs, that was fucking; and you saw this," at the same time pulling out my prick, "and now I am going to feel your cunt."
I put my hand up her clothes and tried to feel, but she turned round, and after a struggle half squatted on the floor to prevent me. The position was favorable, I pushed her sharply half on to her back on the floor, got my fingers on to her slit, and in a moment we were struggling on the floor, she screaming loudly as we rolled about.
She was nimble, got up and escaped me, but by the time her sister came back, I had felt her bum, pulled her clothes up, and talked enough baudiness; she had hollowed, cried, laughed, abused and forgiven me, for I had promised her a new bonnet, and had given her more silver.
Sarah brought back the liquors, there was but one tumbler and a mug, we did with those; the weather was hot, the liquor nice, the girls drank freely. In a short time they were both frisky, it got slightly into my head; then the girls began quarrelling again, and let out all about each other, the elder's object being to upset the younger one's virtue and make her lewed.  She laughed and said, "All right, she will have it well felt some day, she's a fool if she don't." We joked about my disappointment in the morning, I asked Sarah to give me my pleasure then. "Aye," said she, "and it is pleasure, when Martha has once tasted it, she will like it again." Martha very much fuddled, laughed aloud saying, "How you two do go on." Then I put my hands up Sarah's clothes. "Lord how stiff my prick is, look," and I pulled it out, Martha saying, "I won't stand this," rushed from the room. I thought she had gone, and wanted to have Sarah; but she thought of the two pounds, and shutting Martha's mouth, "Try her," said she, "she must have it some day, she'll come in soon." When the girl did, we went on drinking. What with mixing gin, peppermint and rum shrub, both got groggy, and Martha the worst. Then out went Sarah saying she must go to the village to buy something, and she winked at me.
She had whilst the girl was outside told me to bolt the front door, and if by any chance her father came home, which was not likely; to get out of the bed-room window,and through a hedge, which would put me out of sight in a minute. Directly she was gone I bolted the door and commenced the assault. Martha was so fuddled, that she could not much resist my feeling her bum and thighs, yet I could not get her to go and lie down; she finished the liquor, staggered, and then I felt her clitoris.
I was not too steady, but sober enough to try craft where force failed. I wanted to piss, and did, holding the pot so that she could see my cock at the door, but she would not come into the bed-room. Then I dropped a sovereign, and pretending I could not find it, asked her to help me; she staggered into the bed-room laughing a drunken laugh. The bed was near, I embraced her, said I would give her two sovereigns if she would get on the bed with me. "Two shiners?" said she. "There they are," said I laying them down. "No—no," but she kept looking at them. I put them into her hand, she clutched them saying, "No—no," and biting one of her fingers, whilst I began again tittillating her clitoris, she letting me. From that moment I knew what money would do with a woman. Then I lifted her up on to the bed, and lay down besides her. All her resistance was over, she was drunk.
I pulled up her clothes, she lay with eyes shut, breathing heavily, holding the gold in her hand. I pulled open her legs, with scarcely any resistance, and saw a mere trifle of hair on the cunt; the novelty so pleased me, that I kissed it; then for the first time in my life I licked a cunt, the spittle from my mouth ran on to it, I pulled open the lips, it looked different from the cunts I had seen, the hole was smaller. "Surely," thought I, "she is a virgin." She seemed fast asleep, and let me do all I wanted.
In after life, I should have revelled in the enjoyment of anticipation before I had destroyed the hymen; but youth, want, liquor, drove me on, and I don't remember thinking much about the virginity, only that the cunt looked different from the two others I had known. The next instant I laid my belly on hers. "Oh! you are heavy, you smother me," said she rousing herself, "you're going to hurt me,—don't sir, it hurts," all in a groggy tone and in one breath. I inserted a finger between the lips of her quim, and tried gently to put it up, but felt an impediment. She had never been opened by man. I then put my prick carefully in the nick, and gave the gentlest possible movement (as far as I can recollect) to it.
 I was entering. In another minute it would be all over with me, my sperm was moving. She gave a sharp "oh!"
 I gently moved to look at her; her legs were wide open, her gown and chemise (all the clothing she had on) up to her navel, her cunt showed a red streak, my spunk was slowly oozing out streaked with blood, a little was on her chemise; but I looked in vain for the sanguinary effusion which I saw on Charlotte's chemise, and on my shirt, when I first had her; and from later experience, think that young girls do not bleed as much as full grown women, when they loose their virginity.

 I pulled her on to her back, then she awakened struggling and called out loudly, but I was heavy on her, my prick at her cunt's mouth, and I pushed it up until it could go no further, whilst she kept calling out, I was hurting her.
"Be quiet, I can't hurt you, my prick is right up you," said I beginning the exercise. She made no reply, her cunt seemed deliriously small, whenever I pushed deep, she winced as if in pain, I tried to thrust my tongue into her mouth, but she resisted it. Suddenly she said, "Oh! go away, Sarah will be home and find us." I had my second emission, and went to sleep with my prick up her,—I was groggy. She slept also.
I awakened, got up tired with heat, excitement, drink and fucking. She got up, and sat on the side of the bed half sobered, but stupid; dropped a sovereign, and did not attempt to pick it up. I did, and put it back into her hands; she took it without saying a word. When buttoned up, I asked her what she was going to do, but all the reply I could get was, "You go now." I went into the kitchen, banged the door, but held the latch, the door remained ajar, and I peeped through.
She sat perfectly still so long, that I thought she was never going to move; then sat down on the chair and laid her head against the bed, looking at the sovereigns at intervals; then put them down, put her hand up her petticoats carefully feeling her cunt, looked at her fingers, burst into tears, sat crying for a minute or two, then put a basin with water on to the floor, and unsteady, partially upset it, but managed to wash, and got back on to the chair, leaving the basin where it was.  Whilst so engaged, her sister knocked and I let her in; she looked at me in a funny way; I nodded; she went into the bed-room and closed the door, but I heard most of what was said.
"What are you sitting there for?" No reply. "What's that basin there for?" No reply. "You have been washing your grummit?" No reply. "What have you been washing it for?" "I was hot." "Why, you have been on the bed!" "No, I ain't." "You have, with he." "No, I ain't."  "No, he ain't." Then was a long crying fit. Sarah said, "What's the good of crying you fool, no one ain't going to tell, I shant, and the old man won't know."
Then their voices dropped, they stood together, but I guessed she was asking what I had given her.
Then I went in. "You have done it to my sister," said Sarah. "No," said I.  I went out of the room, Sarah followed me, and I gave her the two sovereigns. "You know," she said, "some one would ha done it to her; one of them mill-hands, or Smith would, he's alius after her, and I knows he got his hands upon her."
Fred went up to London next day, and I was at the cottage soon after; the girls were there, the elder grinned, the younger looked queer, and would not go to the bed-room. "Don't be a fool," said the elder, and soon we were alone together there. Half force, half entreaty got her on to the bed, I pulled up her clothes, forced open her legs, and lay for a minute with my belly to hers in all the pleasure of anticipation, then rose on my knees for a close look.
Afterwards when I had her she was neat and clean underneath, although with her every day's clothes on. She was frightened to put on her Sunday clothes. She was a nice plump round girl, with a large bum for her size, with pretty young breasts, and a fat-lipped little slit, the lining of it instead of being a full red like Charlotte's, Mary's, and Sarah's cunts, was of a delicate pink. I suppose is was that which attracted me.
I saw her nearly every day for a week, and her modesty was soon broken. Sleeping in the same room with her father, accustomed to being in the fields or at a mill, such girls soon loose it; but she seemed indifferent to my embraces, and all the enjoyment was on my side. "I've not much pleasure in that," said she, "but more when you put your tongue there." I could not believe that was so in a young and healthy lass, but being always in a hurry to get my poking done lest her father came home, used to lick, put up her, spend quickly and leave; but she soon got to rights. I licked so hard and long the next time I had her, at the side of the bed; that all at once I felt her cunt moving, her thighs closed, then relaxed, and she did not answer me. I looked up, she was laying with eyes closed and said, that what I had done was nicer than anything. I had gamahuched her till she spent.
After that she spent like other women, when I had her. I tell this exactly as I recollect it, and can't attempt to explain. She worked at a paper mill, slack work was the reason of her being at home, now she was going back to work; I feared a mill hand would get her, and offered to pay her what she earned; but if she did not go to the mill, her father would make her work in the fields, and she dare not let him see she had money.
Indeed the two sisters did not dare to buy the finery they wanted, because they could not say how they got the money. So back to the mill she went, it being arranged that she should stay away now and then, for me to have her. "Oh! won't she," said Sarah "she takes to ruddling natoral, I can tell you." Sarah said she told her everything I had done to her, including the licking, and I felt quite ashamed of Sarah knowing that I was so green, as I shall tell presently.
Fred returned, and I had difficulty in getting her often. My cousins walked out in the cool of the evening, I with them; often we passed the cottage, and I made signs if I saw the girls. I sometimes then had her upright in a small shed or by a hay-stack in the dark, where the hay pricked my knuckles.
Fred was soon to join his regiment, was always borrowing money of me "for a shove," and never repaid me; but he was a liberal, good-hearted fellow; and when in after life I was without money and he kept a woman, he said, "You get a shove out of ———," meaning his woman, "she likes you, and I shant mind, but don't tell me."  Nothing till his death pleased him more than referring to our having looked at the backside of his mother and at his sister's quims, he would roar with laughter at it. He was an extraordinary man.
One day we rode to the market-town; and putting up our horses, strolled about. Fred said, "Let's both go and have a shove." "Where are the girls?" said I. "Oh! I know, lend me some money." "I only have ten shillings." "That is more than we shall want." We went down a lane past the Town-Hall, by white-washed little cottages, at which girls were sitting or standing at the doors making a sort of lace. "Do you see a girl you like?" said he. "Why, they are lace-makers."  Two girls were standing,-together; they nodded. "Let's try them," said Fred. We went into the cottage; it was a new experience to me. He took one girl, leaving me the other, I felt so nervous; she laughed as Fred (who had never in his life a spark of modesty), put his hands up her companion's clothes. That girl asked what he was going to give her, and it was settled at half-a-crown each. Fred then went into the back-room with his woman.
 A fear of disease came over me. She made no advances, and at length feeling my quietness was ridiculous, I got my hands up her clothes, pulling them up and looking at her legs. "Lord! I am quite clean, sir," said she in a huff, lifting her clothes well up.  She laid hold of my prick, but it was of no use. "What is the matter with you?" said she, "don't you like me?" "Yes, I do." "Have you ever had a girl?" I said I had. Fred who had finished, bawled out, "Can't we come in?" This upset me still more, and I gave it up. In Fred and his girl came, and he said, "There is water in the other room."
I had more money than I had told Fred, and when he said he was thirsty, offered to send for drink, thinking my liberality would make amends for my impotence. Gin and ale was got; then I began to feel as if I could do it. "She's got a coal-black cunt," said Fred, and I seemed to fancy his woman; then he said to mine, "What colour is yours?" and began to lift her clothes; "let's change and have them together," and we went at once into the back room, whither the two girls had gone. One was piddling, Fred pulled her up from the pot, shoved her against the side of the bed, bawling out, "You get the other," and pulled out his prick stiff and ready. An electric thrill seemed to go through me at this sight, I pulled the other into the same position by the side of Fred's; then the girls objected, but Fred hoisted up his girl and plunged his prick into her. Mine got on to the bed, leaving me to pull up her clothes. The same fear came over me, and I hesitated; Fred looked and laughed, I pulled up her clothes, saw her cunt; fear vanished, the next moment I was into her, and Fred and I, side by side, were fucking.
 Fred put out his hand to my prick, I felt his, but I was coming; my girl said, "Don't hurry." It was too late, I spent, laid my head upon her bosom, and opening my eyes, saw Fred in the short shoves. The next instant he lay his head down.
I believe now that really all four felt ashamed for directly after we were all so quiet, one of the girls remarked, "Blest if I ever heard of such a thing afore, you Lunnon chaps are a bad lot." A long time afterwards I again had the girl for two and sixpence, Fred was then in Canada; she recollected me well, and asked me, whether gals and chaps usually did such things together in London.
Fred and I used to examine our pricks for a few days after, to see if there were any pimples on them. Fred soon forgot his fear and shame, and offered to bet me the fee of the gals, that he would finish first, if we went and repeated the affair, but we did not.
Martha became very curious about me and my doings with Sarah.  She was curious too to know about her sister's pleasure; the elder had I think got all she wanted to know from the younger, and had made but little return for it in information.
Then my amatory knowledge was increased by an event unlooked for, unthought of, unpremeditated; I am quite sure I had neither heard, nor read of such a thing before; and should at that period of my life have scouted the idea, as beastly and abominable, though I had done it.  It occurred to me one day instead of kneeling, to lay down and lick; so I laid on the bed, my head between her thighs, my cock not far from her mouth, and indulging her in the luxury; for it was much the idea of pleasing her that made me do it.  "Do to me what I am doing to you," said I, "put it in your mouth," scarcely knowing what I said and without any ulterior intention.  How far my prick went in, whether she sucked, licked, or simply let it enter, I know not, and I expect she did not either; but as she spent I felt a sensation resembling the soft friction of a cunt, and instantly shot my sperm into her mouth and over her face. Up she got, calling me a beast. I was surprised and ashamed of this unlooked for termination, and said so to her.
I had as said arranged signs as I passed the cottage about our meetings, yet had difficulty now in getting at her without being found out, and never should, excepting for the elder sister, to whom I gave every now and then money. She took care of the house, rarely went out, but worked at a coarse of lace, and earned money that way. She used to sit outside the cottage door if fine; working, and curtseying when we, who were called the Hall folks, passed. My aunt said one day, "What a strapping wench that is, don't you think so Walt? you always look at her as you pass." I might have replied, "Yes she is, and her arse is remarkably like yours," but I did not, and was after that more on my guard. Fred had not had the girl for a long time, that freed me a little. Then Martha shammed ill two days to stay from the mill and let me have her, and I spent a good many hours with her. As I turned my head quickly one day, I thought I saw the bed-room door close, and it occurred to me, that the elder had been watching; she looked letcherously at me as I came out.
I went one day soon after, and found Sarah alone. She made some excuse about her sister being obliged to go to work. I was going away angry, when she asked me to look at her new boots and stockings. Amused at her vanity, I looked and she put them on. "Them fits fine," said she, showing her legs amply. I was not excited about it, and was going. "Ain't you never going to ha me agin?" said she. "I've no money." "We are old friends, never mind money, if I hadn't got you Martha we moight ha been good friends still,—ar wish a hadn't." "You did it to save us," said I. "Ah, but yer shouldn't leave old friends, and I ha watched and made yer both comfortable." Well, thought I, this is an invitation to fucking,—she had a wonderful slip in her cunt, and I began to rise. "You have lots of friends," said I. "I take my oath, that no friend has seen me since the day you got my sister; ain't I been allus on watch for yer, did yer ever pass without seeing me?"
 There she sat, the picture of health, her petticoats nearly up to her knees; I had never before seen them excepting in coarse blue woolen stockings. I rolled her clothes up, saw the big thighs, the next instant had my fingers in the slit; up knocked my doodle. She shut the shutter, locked the door, and with a pleased look got on to the bed.
"You like her better than me," said she. It was a poser, but a man always likes the woman he is going to poke better than any other, and so I denied it. "Why don't you do to me what you do to she then?" "What is that?" "You knows." "No." "Yes you do." "I feel it like this." "More than that." "What?" "You know." "I don't, tell me." There was a pause. It came into my head that she knew I had licked Martha's quim, and it had such an effect on me, that down went my doodle, and I was almost ashamed to look at her; for as said, until I licked Martha, I had never done such an act, and did it with a sort of belief that I was a great beast, and should have said so of any man who did anything of the sort. Indeed after spending in her mouth, I had felt so very much disgusted with myself, that I left off the licking altogether, and had made the girl promise she would never tell her sister, nor refer to the matter again. So I was silent, standing with one hand on her belly just above her split, and in an uncomfortable state of mind.
She broke the silence. "Do it as you do it to she." "I don't know what you mean," I again stammered. "Yes yer do now." "What has Martha told you?" "Nothing, but I knows." And finding I was about to get on the bed, "Naw, naw, kiss it." So I put my mouth down on to the hair and gave a loud kiss. "Naw," said she, "do it as you do it to she, I am a finer woman than she by long chalks; what is't yer sees to take to her so? you knows you tickles her with yer tongue." The murder was out. I wanted to mount her, she baulked me, and kept repeating in a jockular, playful, manner her request.
I began with dislike, but there was something in the novelty which warmed me. What a difference between her and her sister. I could lick the younger one's all but hairless orifice with comfort, and she always laid quiet; but I had to pull open this one's sausage lips and hold back the dark thick fringe, which got into my eyes and tickled my nose. No sooner had my tongue touched her clitoris, than the lips closed round my mouth, and as my saliva worked up on to the cunt-hair by her movement, it wetted my nose and face, she heaved and bounced her arse so much.  I was not at all sorry to desist.

I have no doubt that the wench spent almost directly I licked her, but I did not know it. When I asked her if she liked it, she said, "The old fashioned way be the best, but I have done the same as she." I questioned her, but never knew whether her sister had told her or not, or whether she had peeped and seen us together at it.
I made her promise she would never tell her sister what I had done. She hoped I would see her again, but having promised Martha that I would not have Sarah again, told her so. She said she was tired of watching for us.
I may mention about the risks I ran, that I was once with Martha on the bed, when I heard my cousin's voice asking Sarah who was at the door, if she had seen me pass.
I could not get the younger readily enough, had been long from home, and was about returning. I had spent all my money, and told Sarah one day after I had poked her, that I was going away. Her sister was then at the mill. Said she, "What will Martha do?" I supposed she would get another sweetheart. She shook her head, "Martha be poisoned." "What?" "Don't be afraid," said she, "she be in the family way, we call it poisoned in these parts, when a girl be'nt married." It was true. The girl had only menstruated once or twice before I first had her, and now her courses had stopped. There was no attempt at making a market of me, all needed was to get her right again. The elder took Martha to a fortune-teller, and she got better of her difficulty. I borrowed money of my aunt and giving Martha all I could, went back to London. She left the neighbourhood.
I saw Martha two years afterwards, when visiting again my aunt; she was in house-hold service, and was out for the day. I waylaid her, hoping to have her again; we kissed and fondled, and with difficulty I felt her quim, but could not accomplish my wishes; she was going to be married, and soon after I heard that she was.
Sarah also was going to be married to a farm labourer, and when I joked her about his finding her out, she laughed and said, "Lord, he war my first sweetheart," from which I inferred that cousin Fred was mistaken about taking her virginity.
My first cunt-licking, and cock-sucking took place with Martha; I had never before played such amatory pranks, and all came about by instinct. For a long time I was ashamed of myself, and never breathed a word on such subjects to anyone; I don't think I should have done so even to Fred, but he was then away. Gradually I was learning by instinct the whole art of love. What made me offer money to get Martha I can't say, I don't think that I had ever heard of tempting women's virtue by money, but I never forgot the lesson, and much improved on it as time went on.
I now had had four women. The difficulties in the way of getting at them, were very useful in preventing excesses; and kept me in health. It seems surprising to me now, how little I seemed to have thought of baudy attitudes, and lascivious varieties; for belly-to-belly poking on the bed, was nearly all I did. I had still the modest, demure, demeanour which deceived my mother (coupled with her ignorance of life generally) and relations, and though very proud of my achievements, kept them much to myself, never disclosing the names of my women, and only telling one or two intimate friends of what I had done; who reciprocated by telling me their achievements.  I made a practice of pulling it backward and forward several times a day; in fact whenever I piddled. My prick had grown bigger in the two years, which pleased me much, but about the size of it I had a curious doubt, which will be told of further on.
I was though demure, quite a man in manner and looks, and with women behaved in a way which one or two of my relatives remarked. I used to think to myself when talking to them, "Ah! I know what sort of opening you have at the bottom of your belly." The cousins whose cunts I had had a partial glimpse of, I used to like to dance with, wondering how much the hair had grown on them.  My experience indeed much increased the charm of female society to me.
Chance had given me two virgins out of four women, that was a luxury unthought of, uncared for, and in no way appreciated; the virgins were no more liked by me than the others.
Cousin Fred will appear at less frequent intervals, he was away sometimes for months, then for years, but he is named whenever he played an important part in my adventures,—he was participator in others which will never be written about here.
Fanny Hill.—Masturbation.—Friend Henry.—Under street- gratings at the gunmaker's.—A frigging match.—Sights from below.—In a back street.—A prick in petticoats.— Evacuations.—Ladies scared.
I went back to London, and resumed my preparations. Penniless, I tried to get money from my mother, but could not. I tried to feel our ugly housemaid, who threatened to tell. Just then a friend lent me Fanny Hill, how well I recollect that day, it was a sunshiny afternoon, I devoured the book and its luscious pictures, and although I never contemplated masturbation, lost all command of myself, frigged, and spent over a picture as it lay before me. I did not know how to clean the book and the table-cover.
Fascinated although annoyed with myself, I repeated the act till not a drop of sperm would come; and the skin of my prick was sore. The next day I had a splitting headache but read at intervals, and again frigged; and did this for a week, till my eyes were all but dropping into my head. In a fever and worn out; the doctor said I was growing too fast, and ordered strong nourishment; but I used to take the infernal book with me to bed, and lay reading it, twiddling my prick, and fearing to consummate, knowing the state I was in. It was indeed almost impossible to do it, and when emission came, it was accompanied by a fearful aching in my testicles.
My friend had his book back, my erotic excitement ceased, I grew stronger, felt ashamed of myself, and soon found a new excitement.
I had a friend who like me was intended for the Army, his father was a gun manufacturer. The eldest son died, and the old man saying that five thousand a year should not be lost to the family, made his other son—my friend—go into the business. He resisted, but had no alternative but to consent. Their dwelling-house was just by ours, but the old man now insisted on his son residing largely at the manufactory where he invited me to stay at times with him, which I did.
Several houses adjoining belonged to the old man, at the East-End of London, where the manufactory was. Some faced an important thoroughfare, the rest faced two other streets, and at the back, a place with out a thoroughfare, on one side of which was the manufactory and workmen's entrance; on the other side stables. The whole property formed a large block.
The house faced the better street, the family had for forty years lived in it before they became rich, and it was replete with comfort. The old man had since lived there principally, for his love was in his business, and he had made all arrangements for his convenience. He had a private staircase leading from a sitting-room into the manufactory, and could go into the warehouse, or the back street, or out of the front door of the house unnoticed. The people employed, never knew when to expect him. He was a regular Tartar, but for all that a kind-hearted man.
There now lived in the house an old servant with her sister, who had been many years in the family. One was married to a foreman in whom his master had much confidence; these three were in fact in charge of the premises, although nominally the keyes were given up to my friend whom we will call Henry. The old man wished his son to be happy, allowed friends to visit him, there was good wine, put out by the old man in small quantities from time to time, good food, good attendance, and all to make things comfortable; but the old man resolutely forbade his son to be out later than eleven o'clock, and kept him as my mother kept me, almost without money. I expect that the old servants were told to keep an eye on the doings of Henry.
The basement was used as store-room for muskets, put into wooden boxes which stood in long rows upon each other like coffins. It was a large place and originally only went under the factory, but the old gentleman gradually as he acquired the adjacent houses, let them, but retained most of the basements, so that his stores ran not only under the premises he occupied, but largely under half a dozen other houses of which he only let the shops and upper portions. On four sides this large basement had glimpses of light let into it, by gratings in the footways of the streets.
At one end and on the principal street was a row of windows, beneath what was then a first class linen-draper's shop—first class I mean for the East-End—a large place for those days, and always full. Women used to stand by dozens at a time, looking into the shop windows which were of large plate-glass—a great novelty in those days—people waiting for omnibusses used also to stand up against the shop.
Henry and I were old school friends, I had seen and felt his cock, he mine; I had not been with him an hour before he said, "When the workmen go to dinner, I will show you more legs than your ever saw in your life." "Girls?" said I. "Yes, I saw up above the garters of a couple of dozen yesterday in an hour." "Could you see their cunts?" "I did not quite, but nearly of one," said he. I thought he was bragging, and was glad when twelve o'clock came.
At that hour down we went, through the basement stored with muskets; it seemed dark as we entered, but soon we saw streams of light coming through the windows at the end; they had not been cleaned for years. We rubbed the glass and looked up. Above us was a flock of women's legs of all sizes and shapes flashing before us, thick and thin in wonderful variety. We could see them by looking up, it being bright above; but dark and dusty below, they could not by looking down see us, through the half cleaned windows; or notice round clean spots on the glass, through which two pairs of young eyes almost devoured the limbs of those who stood over them.
As our only way lay through the work-shop and we did not wish it known that we were there (there was no business done there, unless arms were being stored or taken out), we went back before the workmen returned from their meals; but for several days did we go into the place, gloating over such of the women's charms as we could discern; legs we saw by the hundreds, garters and parts of the thighs we saw by scores: quite enough to make young blood randy to madness, but the shadowy mass between the thighs we could not get a glimpse of.
"There are vaults," said I, "if there, we could see right up, and be at the back of the women." We tried unused keys to find one to open the door, and at length to our intense delight it unclosed. We stepped across the little open space under the gratings into the empty vaults, and there arranging to take our turns of looking up at the most likely spots, we put out our heads and took our fill at gazing. We were right under the women, who as they looked into the shop windows, jutting out their bums in stooping, tilted their petticoats exactly over our heads. If there was no carriage passing, we could at times hear what they said, but that was rarely the case.
In those days even ladies wore no drawers. Their dresses rarely came below their ankles, they wore bustles, and standing over a grating, anyone below them, saw much more, and more easily, than they can in these days of draggling dresses, and cunt swabbing breeches, which the commonest girl wears round her rump. For all that, so close to the thighs, do chemise and petticoats cling, that it was difficult to see the hairy slits, which it was our great desire to look at. Garters and thighs well above the knees, we saw by scores. Every now and then either by reason of scanty clothing, or short dresses, or by a woman's stooping and opening her legs to look more easily low down at the window, we had a glimpse of the cunt; and great was our randiness and delight when we did. On the whole we were well rewarded. Many as the legs and thighs are, that I have since seen, I doubt whether I have seen so many pairs of legs half-way up the thighs, and all but to the split, as I saw in the times we stood under that big linendraper's shop window. Old and young, thin and fat, dirty and clean, ragged and neat, there was every possible variety and number of legs and their coverings.
There were two states of the weather which favoured us: if muddy, women lifted their clothes up high. Having no modern squeamishness, all they cared about was to prevent them getting muddy; and then with the common classes, we got many a glimpse of the split. But a brilliant day was the best. Then the reflected light being strong, we could see higher up if the lady was in a favourable position. We could see if they had clouts round their cunts, and had some strange sights of which I will only tell one or two. One day, quite at the end of the gratings, two women,
neat, clean, plump, and of the poorer classes (for we could soon tell the poorer classes from their legs and under-clothings), stood close together. It was my five minutes. Henry was at my back. They had been standing talking, close together, not seeming to be looking at the shop, in fact they were at the spot where the shop window finished.  The next minute she gathered up her clothes a little high, and squatted down on her heels as if to piddle, her bum came down within four or five inches of the grating, and I saw through the bars, her cunt open just as a woman does when she pisses. I thought she was going to do so, when a plantive cry explained it all; she had a baby, and all the movements were to enable her to do something to it conveniently. At the same time her companion dropped on one knee, pulling her clothes a little up, and arranging them so as to prevent soiling them, she put the other leg out in front, and sat back on the heel of the kneeling leg. Then was another split, younger and lighter-haired, partly visible from below, but not so plainly as the dark-haired one; and they did something in that position for five minutes to the squalling child.
I lost all prudence, whispered to Henry; and together we stood looking, till they moved away. "My prick will burst," said I. "So will mine," said he. The next instant both our pricks were out, and looking up at the legs, stood we two young men, frigging till two jets of spunk spurted across the area. It would have been a fine sight for the women had they looked down, but women rarely did. They stood over the gratings usually with the greatest unconcern, looking at the shop windows, or only glanced below for an instant, at the dark, uninhabitated looking area.
This was the beginning of a new state of things. We got reckless; Henry had business to attend to, I none, I ceased to think about what might be said of our being so much in the store-house; and used to go by myself, and stay there two or three hours at a time. Then I gave way to erotic excesses. My prick would stand as I went down the stairs. I used to wait prick in hand, playing with it, looking up and longing for a poke until I saw a pair of thighs plainly, then able to stand it no longer, frigged; hating myself even whilst I did it, and longing to put my spunk in the right place. I used to catch it in one hand, whilst I frigged with the other, then fling the spunk up towards the girls' legs. It was madness; for although the feet of the women were not three feet above my head, yet the smallness of the quantity thrown (after what stuck to my fingers), and the iron bars above, seemed to make it impossible that any of it should reach its intended destination; but I think it did one day. A youngish female was stooping, and showing part of her thighs. I flung up what I had just discharged; suddenly her legs closed, she stepped quickly aside, looked down and went away. I am still under the impression that a drop of my sperm, must have hit her naked legs.
We both also grew more lascivious, having frigged before each other, we took to frigging each other. I went to my home, on going back, found he had taken other young men to see the legs. One night five of us had dinner, we smoked and drank, our talk grew baudier; we had mostly been schoolfellows, and dare say we had all seen each other's doodles, but I cannot assert that positively.
At a signal, five young men (none I am sure nineteen years old) seated on chairs in the middle of the room began frigging themselves, amidst noise and laughter. The noise soon subsided, the voices grew quiet, then ceased, and was succeeded by convulsive breathing sighs and long-drawn breaths, the legs of some writhed, and stretched out, their backsides wriggled on the chairs, one suddenly stood up. Five hands were frigging as fast as they could, the prick-knobs standing out of a bright vermillion tint looking as if they must burst away from the hands which held them. Suddenly one cried "f-fi-fir-first," as some drops of gruelly fluid flew across the room, and the frigger sunk back in the chair. At the same instant almost the other jets spurted, and all five men were directly sitting down, some with eyes closed, others with eyes wide open, all quiet and palpitating, gently frigging, squeezing, and tittillating their pricks until pleasure had ceased.
Afterwards we were quiet, then came more grog, more allusion to the legs of women, their cunts and pleasures, more baudiness, more showing of pricks and ballocks, another sweep-stakes, another frigging match, and then we separated.
I do not think that excepting to Henry, that baudy evening ever was referred to by me.
I got up I recollect next day ashamed of myself, and felt worse, when he remarked, "What beasts we made ourselves last night." What changes since then. Two of the five found graves in the Crimea, the third is dead also; Henry and I alone alive. He with a big family, with sons nearly as old as he was at the time of the frigging matches. I wonder if he ever thinks of them, wonder if he ever has told his wife.
I spent much time now in this leg inspection and frigging myself, till I could scarcely get semen out of me. I hated myself for it, yet went on doing it, when luckily I lost the exciting sights. Some women happened to look down and saw us. A man without a hat came several times and looked down the gratings. Henry's father came to the manufactory, as he often did, went into the stores, asked who had opened the area-door, locked it up, had a new lock put on, and forbad anyone to go into the stores excepting to get out the guns, and so we lost our game. We never asked a question, nor made a remark on the matter; and came to the conclusion, that some one had complained to the linendraper that persons were looking up the women's legs, and that he had written to Henry's father on the matter.
I went home used up, and in a state of indescribable disgust with myself, entirely ceased masturbation, and in a month went again to visit my friend,—he had found out another grating.
The back of the manufactory as said was in a cul-de-sac. There were but the manufactory and stables in it. The workmen entered that side. There were gratings, and coal-vaults beneath the street similar to those beneath the linendraper's shop. Workmen's wives bringing their husbands' dinners, used to stand and sometimes sit down over the gratings, but their legs when seen were rarely worth the seeing; it was usually but a sight of dingy petticoats, and dirty stockings. We were however content to look up at them, for they belonged to women, but soon tired of doing so.
 The pissing often took place over a grating, we could hear, and feel, but not see.
Then we got a common dark lantern, had the top shade taken of, and a funnel, or short chimney put with a slide, so that when we pushed the slide off, the light shot up through the chimney, and throw a strong light on a circle about one foot across. With this we went down waiting till we heard some one above, then opened the light and saw what was to be seen. Sometimes we waited for hours without seeing anything, but it is astonishing what cute-loving, baudy young men will go through for the sake of seeing a woman's privates. At other times we saw a good deal. If it were a light night, we saw nothing. No one knew we went down at those hours, the workmen had gone, and the private staircase from the dwelling house at any time let us into the factory; from the factory we could go anywhere on the premises.
When we heard feet, or a rustle of petticoats over the grating, taking up the light we sometimes saw a white hum, a split gaping like a dog with its throat cut, and a stream of water splashing from it. We never used to move, but sooner than not see it all and as well as possible, let the stream come over us. Sometimes two women came together; sometimes we could hear to our mortification that they were pissing on the pavement close by, without coming over the grating. We could often hear their conversation.  Once a man did the same, we saw prick, balls, and turd, all hanging down together, we could not help laughing, and off he shuffled as if he had been shot. He must have heard us.
 We lost sight of her and used to wonder if she had found us out, for she finished one night with such a loud fart, that we laughed out,—and she must have heard us.
One night half a dozen ladies came, we knew they were ladies by their manner and conversation, which we could hear perfectly, there being no carriage traffic in the street. "Can anyone see?" said one. "No," said another, "make haste." We heard the usual leafy rustle, and immediately a tremendous stream was heard; then two more sat down close together. I turned on the light at all risks, there were two pretty white little bums above us, with the gaping cunts, they were of quite young girls, without a hair on them; the women then were scared I suppose, for they moved. One said, "Make haste, don't be foolish, nobody is coming."  "Oh! there is a light down there," said one.
Another night we heard two pairs of feet above us, one was the heavy footstep of a man. "Don't be foolish, he won't know," said a man in a very low tone. "Oh I no,—no, I dare not," said a female voice, and the feet with a little rustling moved to another grating. Henry and I moved on also. "You shall, no one comes here, no one can see us," said the man in a still lower tone. "Oh! I am so frightened," said the female. A little gentle scuffling now took place, and then all seemed quiet but a slight movement of the feet. "Are they there?" whispered Henry from the vault. I nudged him to quiet, and putting the light as high up as I could, pushed aside the slide a little only.
We were well rewarded. Just above our heads were two pairs of feet, one pair wide apart; and hanging only partly at her back the garments of a female; in front the trousers of a man with the knees projecting slightly forward between the female's legs, and higher up a bag of balls were hanging down hiding nearly the belly and channel, which the prick was taking.  The movement of the ballocks showed the vigor with which the man was fucking, but there must have been some inequality in height; and either he was very tall, or she very short; for his knees and feet moved out at times into different positions. He then ceased for an instant his shoving, as if to arrange himself in a fresh and more convenient posture, and then the lunges recommenced. He must have had his hands on her naked rump, from the way her clothes hung, showing her legs up to her belly, or to where his breeches hid it, or where the clothes fell down which were over his arm.
Once I imagine, the lady's clothes were in his way, for there was a pause, his prick came quite out, her feet moved, her legs opened wider. He did not need his fingers to find his mark again, his long, stiff, red-tipped article had slidden in the direction of her bum-hole; but no sooner had they readjusted their legs, then it moved backwards, and again it was hidden from sight in her cunt. The balls wagged more vigorously than ever, quicker, quicker; the lady's legs seemed to shake, we heard a sort of mixed cry, like a short groan and cry together, and a female voice say, "Oh! don't make such a noise," then a quiver and a shiver of the legs, and all seemed quiet.
When I first had removed the slide, I did so in a small degree, fearing they might look below and see it; but if the sun had shone from below, I believe now they must have been in that state of excitement, that they would not have noticed it. To see better I opened the slide more, and gradually held the lantern higher and higher, until the chimney through which the light issued was near to the grating. I was holding it by the bottom at arms length; and naturally, so as to best see myself. Henry could not see as well, although standing close to me, and our heads nearly touching. "Hold it more this way," said he in an excited whisper. I did not. Just then the lady said, "Oh! make haste now, I am so frightened." Out slipped the prick,—I saw it. At that very instant, Henry pulled my hand, to get the lantern placed so as to enable him to see better. I was holding it between the very tips of my fingers, just below the feet of the copulating couple. His jerk pulled it over, and down it went with a smash, just as the lady said, "Make haste, I am so frightened." A huge prick as it seemed to me drew out, and flopped down, a hand grasped it, the petticoats were falling round the legs, when the crash of the lantern came. With a loud shriek from the lady, off the couple moved, and I dare say it was many a day before she had her privates moistened up against a wall again, and over a grating.
Henry and I laughing picked up the lantern and got back to the house; I went to my bed-room in a state of indescribable randiness. I had for some time broken myself of frigging, and now resisted the desire, tried to read but could not, undressed and went to bed. My prick would stand. If it went down for a minute and my thoughts were diverted, the very instant my mind recurred to those balls wagging above my head, up it went again. I tried to piss, the piss would not run. At that time when my prick was stiff, I used to pull the prepuce back, so as to loosen it. I laid down on the bed, prick stiff. If it could have spoken, it would have said, "Frig or fuck, you shall, before I give you rest." So I pulled the prepuce slowly back,—only once,—and as the knob came handsomely into view, out shot my spunk all over the bed-clothes.
Getting up to wipe and make things clean, I saw something on the brim of my cap which I had worn; the cap was on the table. I took it up and found a large spot of sperm which had come from the happy couple, it must have followed the withdrawal of the prick; and had my head been a little more turned up, it must have tumbled on my face. I did not mind wiping up my own sperm, but doing so to their's seemed beastly. Yet what was the difference?
 The sight alarmed us, we talked over it for many a day afterwards, for we did not then know that some men are fond of amusing themselves with other men.
I never saw but that one couple fucking, but we could hear groping and frigging going on close by. We heard women say, "Oh! don't!" Gay women, we heard say, "Here is a good place," but they did not often select the gratings, why? I cannot tell, for they were partly in recesses in the wall which enabled people to get more hidden. The bars were wide apart, and I suppose the regulars did not like that, yet they often used the gratings for pissing down.
These sights did no occur all at once, I went home, stopped, returned, and so on; in the meanwhile not having women, I then frigged, left off, then took to it again, and so time went on. Fewer women came at last up the street, we imagined that with all our care, they had found out that people were beneath the gratings, and avoided them. The favorite place was the recess at the workmen's door to the factory at which were two steps; we could hear but not see when a couple was there, we used then to go up into the factory and listen at the door. Generally, feeling and frigging was only going on, bargaining for money first. "Give me another shilling. Oh! your nails hurt. What a lot of hair you have.  Oh! I am coming! Don't spend over my clothes," and so on, we heard at times.
Meanwhile there was either no servant at my home worthy of a stiff one, or those who would not take one; and I had no alternative but to frig. Money my mother again kept from me. What I got, I sent to the poor girl Martha, who then had not got rid of her big belly; gay women I had fear of; devoured by desire to get into a woman again, I even looked longingly at the wife of the foreman who took charge of the house in which Henry lived, although she was fifty. I recollect seeing her making my bed one morning, and getting a cock-stand at the sight of the woman so near a place to lay down on.
Mrs. Smith.—A brutal husband.—My second adultery.—A chaste servant.—Road harlots.—A poke in the open.—Use for a silk handkerchief.—A shilling a tail.—Clapped.
Henry had now much business to attend to, I had none. I used to wander into the back street just as the men's wives brought them their dinners, so as to look at them. They were not allowed inside, but if the men chose to eat inside they could do so, their wives waiting outside. Six or eight men had their dinners brought, the rest went away. The women most frequently sat on a door-step, or loitered over the gratings up which we used to look at night; or squatted down against the wall.   He bore a bad character among his fellows, and was thought a brute to his wife. Some said his wife drank; there was often a row in the street between them at dinner-time, he used to sit on the door-step and eat his dinner outside, she standing near him, and her legs came at times over a grating. I used to dodge downstairs at times at the workmen's dinner-hour, and have a look up, and that is how I saw, and began to think of the legs of Mrs. Smith.
I took a sort of fancy to her, or rather her legs, so plump and clean.  I again had desisted from frigging, had sworn to myself not to do so again, and now getting strength wanted a woman badly. Our eyes had often met, I had even got out of her way when passing her, a courtesy not often then shown by gentlemen to workpeople. I used to stare at her so, that she began to look confused when I did. The husband never seemed to notice anything but his dinner, at which he usually swore. Sometimes I spoke to him about gun-making.  I had been brought up religiously, and the idea of having a married woman seemed shocking. I was shocked when I found that Mary was married. At length I nodded, smiled, and established a sort of intimacy in that way without speaking, managing to meet her as it were, quite casually when going to, or leaving the workshop.
One day the man dined on the step, his wife standing by his side; down I went to peep up her clothes and heard him rowing.  That was his style. Angry words passed, the voices grew louder, I heard a loud smack and a strong oath, he had hit his wife and gone back into the work-shop.
There was a great gabbling of female voices over the grating round Mrs. Smith. "I would not stand it," said one. "It is a shame," said another. "He ought to be proud of such a wife, an old beast," said another. The husband came out again. "I have done my best," said she, "you are not a man anyhow, or anywhere, for two pins I would run away from you." A loud oath, and another smack followed.
I heard Mrs. Smith sobbing. "I have had a little drink," said she, "I told him so. He makes me so unhappy, I must; but I spend scarce a trifle and it's what I earns myself. Ain't I clean? don't I bring him good meals?" "You do, you do," said they. "It's a shame," she went on, "he is not a man, not in bed, not anywhere, not anyhow, I don't aggravate him, I put up with everything, it's full six months since he's been a husband to me, although we sleeps in the same bed," she added in a significant way, "yes, six months full."  Things quieted, off went Mrs. Smith with some of the women, two remained waiting for their husbands' platters, they squatted down on the step.
"They're a miserable couple," said one. "Yes, and likely, he is never at home, no wonder she do take a drop of comfort." "No, it ain't."  "No, that they don't." "He's too old for her, but he ain't jealous." "No, in course not." "Why he ain't done it to her for six months," said one. They both chuckled then. "Why, my old man don't forget me like that, and he is ten years older than Smith," said the other. "Ah!" said the first, "he's a bad 'up altogether, men be a bad lot, the best on 'em." The time-bell rang, their husbands brought out their dinner-cans, and off the women went.
I can scarcely tell what followed exactly or how it came about, for even now to me it seems astonishing. I was but between eighteen and nineteen, and had not had the remotest idea of getting Mrs. Smith, though I longed for her lewedly when my cock stood. I was timid with women until I knew them well, I could never begin with our own servants until they had been in the house a few days; yet directly I heard this conversation, a chance seemed in my way, and without meaning it I followed it up.
With but little idea of married life or habits, I saw that not only were they a wretched couple, but that for months Smith had never touched his wife. I imagined then that married people were always doing it, that women were randier than men,—a common belief of young people. I thought: how she must want a poke! how she would enjoy it! Out I went to see if Mrs. Smith was about, and saw her walking off with a group of sympathizers, who dropped off gradually, until she was left with one, with whom she went into a public-house. In a few minutes they came out and parted. On she went alone, and went into another public-house, and then wiping her eyes as she came out, went her way alone; I after her, lewed and thinking to myself, "she has not had it for six months," and so on. She went into a public-house now by herself. I waited till she came out, and saw she had been taking to many drops of comfort.
Without any definite intention as far as I can remember, but simply for lewed gratification, I went up to, and addressed her. She recognized me and stood stock still. She had a small bottle of what I found afterwards to be gin in her hand, which she put into her husband's dinner can. I told her I was sorry for her, having heard the row and all she had said. The reference to her wrongs roused her, and she said vehemently, "He is not a man anyhow or anywhere," and then was silent. I did not know what to say more, and walked on by her side. After a time she said, "Why are you walking with me sir?" The only reply I made was that I liked it, and was sorry she had such a bad husband. She said she would rather be alone, but I walked on with her she carrying the little tin can with a cover. I not knowing what to do, offered to carry it for her, but she would not let me.
Then she remarked, "You are very good, but don't come any further, it won't look well for a poor woman to be walking with a gentleman; neighbors make mischief, and God knows, I have enough to bear already." My boldness having quite left me, I shook hands with her, which seemed to astonish her, and off she went. I followed her at a distance, to her house, which was one of a row of small cottages fronting a ditch, and a field, on which carpets were beaten, and boys played, a scrubby poor place as you may be sure.
I turned back hesitating. One moment wondering at my boldness, and wickedness in thinking of a married woman; the next, thinking I was a fool for not having asked her to let me; when I saw in the path, the top of the tin can she had been carrying. Here was a chance. I walked about for half an hour before I mustered up courage to go to the house. She opened her eyes wide when she saw me. "What do you want?" "Here is the top of the dinner-can," said I innocently. "Oh!" said she, "I am so glad, he would have hit me if I had lost it." As she took it I entered and closed the door.
She had finished the gin, for the empty bottle was on the table. She may have been more than fuddled, I cannot say; for I was so excited that I recollect only the most prominent circumstances.  The house had but two rooms: a kitchen I was standing in, the street-door opened on to it. An open door showed a neat bed in a clean white-washed bed-room. How I began I know not, but recollect telling what I had heard, and that for months he had not been a husband to her. That set her off talking wildly, and she said it all over again.
 That was my artless beginning, or something like it. Fright at my impudence was struggling against my cock-stand. For a second she seemed speechless, then replied, "Well sir, you ought to be ashamed,—a married woman like me."  "That's no business of yours, but he is a bad one," and she began crying again. "Now go sir go,—if he came home, he would murder me, if he found you here."
I don't know how the next came off, but I know I was kissing her, that I got my hand up her clothes, on to her cunt, that I pulled out my prick, that the struggling ceased, that I edged her to the bed-room, and that up against the bed she made a stand. "Oh! my God sir, I am a married woman, pray don't."  That I suppose stirring her lust, overcame her, for she got on the bed, I got on her, and up her in a second.
I was in a bursting state of randiness, and she must have been the same. I was ready to spend, she readier; for I had no sooner entered her than her breath shortened, she clasped me tight, quivered and wriggled, and we both spent.  Up to that time I had not properly felt her, nor seen her body.  All was wet, I slid my finger below her cunt (feeling even near to an arse-hole was then beyond me), there it felt wetter; that stimulated me, and on I went grinding. She lay with her eyes closed without speaking.
The quiet dreamy enjoyment had barely began, when she pushed me off and sat up saying, "What have I done? what have I done? I am a married woman!"  Half frightened, half hysterical, it seemed as much pleasure to her to tell me her misery, as it had been to have me doing her husband's work. We moved off the bed. "Oh! my God," said she, "look at the bed." I saw one wet patch as large as a tea-cup, and another as large as a crown at the spot where her bum had laid on the counterpaine. "What shall I do?" "Wash it." "But I have no other." It was a bore no doubt. I left without being able to get permission to see her again, but only tears, and an expression of her conviction that she was a wicked woman.
Although she had not asked me not to tell anyone, which women so often do who commit these little slips, I did not mention it to Henry. For three or four days afterwards she did not come to the factory. I went to her cottage. She was out. At length at the dinner-hour I met her face to face by the factory. She looked ready to drop. An hour afterwards seeing her burly husband at work, off to her house I went, and gave a single knock. She opened the door, nearly fell back with surprise, and before she could recover herself I was indoors. I had an altercation, a refusal, almost a fight, but I conquered.
She was a plump little woman, dark-haired on head and tail, her quim was neither large or small, her thighs round and white, she was an ordinary person, neither handsome nor plain, and my curiosity was soon satisfied. She kept exclaiming, "Oh! if he should come home!" I fell to work again with vigor, and soon again spent. As I got off I observed under her bum again a large wet place, but now on her chemise. "What a lot of spending you have done," said I. "I can't help it," said she. My experience was small, but I knew that from no other woman whom I had stroked, had such an effusion taken place. Before I had spent I had felt her wetness on my fingers. I had her on another occasion, and the same thing occurred. I notice this because I only recollect meeting one other such case since; Mrs. Smith, like the other to whom I refer, used after a few pushes up her to squeeze her cunt, shiver, and discharge quite copiously, to be followed with a second pleasure and discharge when I spent. I only reflected on Mrs. Smith's peculiarity some years afterwards.