As I passed I saw a small girl standing inside the door of a house, and thought I would like the little one. Sometimes I wanted the biggest woman I could get, sometimes the smallest. She took no notice of me, I repassed, and there she still stood. “Is she gay?” I wondered, “she does not look it.” Lots of girls and women not gay stood in a similar manner in those streets. Again I passed, and stopped. “Will you let me come in, and give you a kiss?” “Yes sir”, said she stepping back.
I stepped in after her, one or two steps down. The room was below, and entered direct from the street. A miserable place; on one side a mangle, on another a poor dirty bed, a tile floor, dirty walls, wooden furniture, all miserable. Had I known, I should have been horrified at entering such a hole, but in my lust I thought of nothing but the young girl, of the probable hairless cunt, of her little bum, her smallness and freshness. She looked fifteen years of age, and was quite short.
She closed the door, and looked. I looked at her. “I'll give you five shillings.” “All right sir.” “Let me look at your quim.” “All right sir”, said she getting on the bed. I pulled up her clothes, and saw the little thighs, and the little cunt with a very small quantity of lightish brown hair on it. How tight it was to my finger ! I took the guttering candle. “I'd like to fuck, but am frightened,-let me look well at your cunt.” “I'm all right”, said she putting her fingers down, and stretching open the lips, “quite clean indeed sir.” “When were you fucked last?” “It must be a week.” “Arn't you every night?” “I don't get the chance”, still laying on her back, and stretching her cunt-lips open, “I only go to the door quite late, when the neighbours have gone in, cause they ain't gay close here.” The house was the last in the street where it narrowed to a footway.
I raised her up, laid her lengthways on the bed, and put my pego into her hand, but fear came over me, and it would not stand. “I must do it to you, but play with it a little.” She laid hold of my prick. “It's not stiff.” “No my dear, frig it.” She began. “Do you like feeling a prick?” “I likes feeling men's things”, she replied, “they are such funny things, first little, then big, then little again.”
“How old are you?” “Over fifteen, mother says.” “Where is your mother?” “In the back room,-look it's getting bigger, I did not think it would be so big, —don't hurt me with your nail sir please”, said she frigging away clumsily, and when it was stiff leaving off, but looking earnestly at my pego. I kept probing her cunt with my fingers, wondering at its smallness.
A desire came to make her youthful mouth utter baudiness. “Say cunt dear.” “Cunt.” “Say fuck.” “Fuck.” “You know what fucking is?” “Putting that into this”, said she with a chuckle, “ain't you going to do it?-I'm quite clean.” “Let me look again.” Again the little hand down, and stretched the lips. I prepared for action, again fear seized me, and down my doodle drooped. “No dear, lay still, and I'll frig myself over you,-turn on your belly,-let me see your bum, — there that will do.” I put some spittle on her bum, and rubbed my prick against it, but longed for the hole between her thighs. “Have you got a French letter?” “I'll ask mother”, said she going into the adjoining room. In came a woman of middle age suckling a baby. “She will fetch one, give her the money, — make haste now, — never mind your bonnet, — run, — run. She won't be long”, said the woman to me.
“Your daughter?” I said to the woman who stood suckling her baby, and staring at me. “Yes sir.” The baby took to howling. Swinging it about to quiet it, she went on in a whining tone, “We are so poor, we are almost starved, we are, — what was I to do for a living? — I've nearly lost all since my husband's left me, and can't afford to keep a big gal She that; if she will go wrong I can't help it, I can't send her out, — I catched her with a young Gallows, and the mischief were done, it were, I knowed it, and I knowed it would be, so I did, — I could not keep her in, and the chap were allus arter her,-she must live, and she's better at home doing that, than doing it away from me”,-and much of the same sort in a whining, apologetic tone without stopping, without my asking.
“Has she been gay long?” “Bless you sir, it ain't more nor two months since I catched her with young Gallows,-he is in qued, — serve him right; but he'll be after her agin when he is out, he will.” “Where is your husband ?” “Oh! the vagabond's gone off with a hussey, and left me with three children, — this here's the last. Drat you”, said she shaking the infant which would not leave off howling. “Oh ! here she is.” The girl entered the house with the cundum, and the mother and baby disappeared.
The affair was not enticing, my cock was flabby again, but the little wench's naked belly stirred and stiffened me. I prepared the letter. “Did you ever see one before?” “Yes a gent had one here one night, but he did not put his thing into it.” “What did he do then?” “He blew it out, and popped it off”, said the girl. “Oh ! you wet it,-let me see how you do it, — does it not feel cold? — it's a nasty thing. Indeed I'm all right, — gals has diseases from doing it I know, but I ain't, — look”,-and again the girl distended her cunt-lips without any modesty or affectation.
Fearful, but (as often was the case with me and French letters), my cock and the letter would not agree. My cock stiff without it, drooped its head directly the wet flabby sheep's-gut touched its tip. At length it was over my doodle, and shoved up the little cunt after much trouble. “It don't feel nice”, said the girl. A few shoves more, and I lost all prudence, pulled it off, and drove my naked prick with such a thrust up her little quim, that she cried out. Her cry of pain gave me pleasure, and fetched me.
No one can lay so close up to you as a thin girl, two stout people can't stick together like two lean ones. As I came to myself the little girl was wriggling under me. “Oh ! dear, just as it was beginning to feel nice, —why did you do it so quick?” “Do you want it?” “Oh! I do, — do shove a little”, — and the little cunt squeezed itself up to my belly, and wriggled my doodle in her. I accepted the invitation, the girl spent, and I had a second pleasure up her, after I had pulled my prick out for a minute or two, to inspect it.
She brought me a basin, soap, and a napkin of beautiful quality and white. “Ulloh ! is this yours?” “It's something we had to wash and mangle”, said the girl. “It's a table napkin.” “Yes sir.”
“Don't you make a living by washing and mangling?” “No”, said she, “we have lost our business, father ran away, took linen, and sold it, — people won't trust us, — none of those who lost their linen, — others don't know us. Thank you sir”, as I gave her the five shillings, “we don't have as much sometimes in two days.” “Wash your cunt my dear.” She went out of the room, and came back saying she had washed it. I felt it, and she had. Then I talked for an hour with her.
I was curious. “Tell me who first did it to you.” “I shant.” “It was a coster lad, your mother has told me.” “She has not.” “She has.” “Yes it was a coster I knowed, he's been locked up for a row, and breaking windows, — he is seventeen.” “When did he first do it to you?” “I shant tell you”, said the girl laughing, “mother's listening, I know she is.” I had the poor girl on my knee, was pulling her pretty tight little cunt about. “I'd like to do it again”, said I. “You may, and welcome”, said the girl. “Ain't you fucked every night?” “No, I wish I were,-to get money.” “Where is the five shillings?” “Mother's taken it, she always does.” I fucked her again, gave her a trifle more, left, and never had her after.
Then I had a woman of a singular build: she was shortish, and had the hardest flesh on her bum I ever felt, it was impossible to pinch it. She was a very large bummed woman, it was quite out of proportion to her size, so were her breasts. She was as near as I can recollect about twenty, but had the form of a woman of thirty, her cunt was almost hairless, and had no lips, the lappels and clitoris showed when she was standing up with thighs closed; when her thighs were open her cunt looked as if the lips had been cut off, she had lightish brown hair and almost colourless eyes. Her room was ragged, and I always found her cooking, she wore garters of ragged ribbon below her knees, and ragged slippers. For all that I went to see her I suppose a dozen times, and nearly always fucked her from behind, dog-fashion. The arse-cheeks were so firm, that I delighted to feel, and slap them as I fucked; and spite of her big bum I recollect no woman whose cunt I got further up in that position, as I did hers.