“Get quite on to the bed dear.” Slow at obeying I helped her into the posture, and got on to her, and brought my pleasure to an end, lying on the top of the pretty little girl.
I lay on her long afterwards, and tried by the muscular contraction of my arse-cheeks and ballock-roots to stiffen my pego again. She laid quiet all the time with my prick up her, but I could not manage it, my prick shrunk.
A second erection without uncunting being impossible, I got into a kneeling posture between her open legs, and checked a slight movement on her part saying, “Now lie quiet, — don't move.” There was I kneeling between her thighs; looking down I saw her half-opened cunt with the gruelly tide issuing from it, took my prick in hand half its potential size, flabby and wet, pulled back the skin, and out rolled a large drop of sperm on to her thigh. She lay quite quiet, looking at me, her yellow hair falling all around her head as it lay on the pillow. Now I was astonished at her beauty, I had not noticed it fully before.
“You are very handsome, — how old are you?” “Fifteen and a little.” “You must be more.” “I don't know, but mother says so.” I looked at her cunt, the hair on it was not an eighth of an inch long,, scarcely any of it, and of course showing no intention of curling, but her form was so round that I could not believe she was so young. “Fifteen and a little”, she repeated, her aunt and her mother had been disputing the day of her birth; her mother was out of her mind when she gave birth to her. “Aunt says I ain't fifteen.”
“Give the other gal a shilling, — do”, she broke in whilst I was questioning her about age, and kneeling between her thighs. “What are you so anxious about the other girl for?” “She lives over us, and is my friend, — will you give her a shilling? — do.” “Why?” “Do, — if you don't I shall give her a shilling of mine, and give her some of mine anyhow, — you said you'd give me three and sixpence, didn't you?”
Curiously amused I laughed. “I'll give you a shilling for her, if you let me do it to you again.” “Oh! do”, said she.
It was hot, I had not reposed after my pleasure, so quitting my kneeling position I laid down besides her, and began feeling her breasts. She turned her head towards me. “You have not washed yourself”, said I after a minute's amusement with her bubbies. “It ain't no good if yer ar going to make a mess in it agin, — when you've done it I'll wash it all out together.” I thought from that speech she was not an old one at the game, yet after all she only behaved as every young girl I have had usually behaved, they have mostly objected to washing their cunts directly after a poke, I think they rarely wash it until requested. There must be some sweet tranquillizing pleasure which a man's sperm gives to a woman's cunt, and makes her undesirous of washing it out. It is only when a woman knows it is good for her health if she be gay, that she ever does it. No married woman washes the sperm out of her cunt, yet in the morning after a night's fucking you never find the sperm if you feel in the cunt for it, — where does it go? — it is absorbed I sup-pose.
We lay thus and talked. “How old are you really?” “Fifteen and two months, as I told yer, — I always was fat, but ain't so fat as I was though, — father used to say I should get fat on gruel.” I should have guessed her full sixteen had it not been for the little hair there was on her motte, and the delicate pink small cut, and tight prick-hole. “How long have you been gay?” “I ain't gay”, said she astonished. “Yes you are.” “No I ain't.” “You let men fuck you, don't you?” “Yes, but I ain't gay.” “What do you call gay?” “Why the gals who come out regular of a night dressed up, and gets their livings by it.” I was amused.
“Don't you?” “No, mother keeps me.” “What is your father?” “Got none, he's dead three months back, —mother works, and keeps us. — she is a charwoman, and goes out on odd jobs.” “Don't you work?” “Not now”, said she in a confused way”, “mother does not want me to, I takes care of the others.” “What others?” “The young ones.” “How many?” “Two, —one's a boy, and one's a gal.” “How old?” “Sister's about six, and brother's nearly eight, — but what do you ask me all this for?” “Only for amusement, — then you are in mourning for your father?” “Yes, it's shabby, ain't it? — I wish I could have nice clothes, I've got nice boots, — ain't they?” — cocking up one leg, “a lady gived em me when father died, — they are my best.”
“Are you often in the Strand?” “When I gets out I likes walking in it, and looking at the shops, — I do if mother's out for the day.” “Does she know you are out?” The girl who had been lying on her back with her head full towards me, turned on her side, and giggling said in a sort of confidential way, “Bless you no, — she'd beat me if she knew, — when she be out I locks them up, and takes the key, and then I goes back to them, — I've got the key in my pocket, and shall be home before mother, — she is out for the whole day.”
“Do the children know you're out?” “No, I says to them, 'You be quiet now, I'm going to the yard.' ” “What's the yard?” said I not reflecting. The girl thought a minute, chuckled, turned her head, and was silent, she was actually blushing. “What's the yard?” Suddenly it struck me, “Going to the privy?” She burst out laughing. “Yes that's it, I say I'm going to the privy, and then I comes out with her, and they can't get out, so they are all right, and we go back together if she's with me; if she ain't I go back by myself, — there”, — and she stopped satisfied with her explanation. “They may set fire to themselves”, said I. “There ain't no fire after we have had breakfast, I puts it out, and lights it at night if mother wants hot water.”
“What do you do with yourself all day?” “I washed both of them, I gives them food if we've got any, then washes the floor and everything, and then washes myself, then I looks out of the winer.” “Wash your-self.” “Yes I washes from head to foot allus.” “Have you a tub?” “No we've only got a pail and a bowl, but I'm beautiful clean, — mother tells every one I'm the beautifullest clean gal a mother ever had, — I wash everything, mother's too tired. Sometimes we all go out and walk, but that's at night; sometime I lays abed nearly all day.” She was beautifully clean in her flesh, her linen was clean, its color awful; but what could be expected from a pail, a bowl, and one room to dry things in. “You can't always be washing.” “No, I do all the mending and making, — look how my finger is pricked”, said she showing it.
I had been smoothing and feeling her all over, her unwashed cunt had come in for its share of my attentions, I had been twiddling it till outside it was dry. Recurring to the never-failing, and always charming theme, I got close to her, kissed her, my fingers sought the innermost recesses of her tight little orifice. “Don't you like fucking? — does it give you pleasure?” “It never gived me much pleasure that I know on”, she replied. “But you don't dislike it?” “Not if they don't hurt me.” “Do they ever?” “One or two have, if they push hard, — but I shan't say no more, — there.”
There was a frankness, openness, and freshness about this girl which delighted me. Question after question I put, and would be answered; if evaded I put it in another shape, but she seemed willing mostly to reply. I put into her little head things she had never dreamed of, and all the time kept rubbing her clitoris, probing her little quim, distending it, tickling it, and exciting her till she wriggled her little fat bum.
“Do I hurt you ?” “Oh! no,” — “let me then,” — “oh! don't sir, — I wish you would not.” “Did you never enjoy the prick up you? — never enjoy a fuck! —you shall enjoy it with me.” “Don't now”, said she turning herself round as I frigged on. “Feel my prick dear.” She did not need a second invitation. “Is it not stiff?” “Yes, and big.” “Yes, — yes, — but oh ! don't sir, — take away your hand, — ah !” I talked on, frig- ging and tickling, my prick throbbing, but restraining myself, for instinct told me she was about to enjoy a pleasure she had never enjoyed yet. All at once she relinquished my prick, a slight heaving of her belly, and her eyes closed, then I knew she was ready to discharge.