Loo on the beach. • The shop-boy’s attempt. • Caught at the water-closet. • A knowing one. • The gay sister. • Success despairs of. • Over the china-shop. • Virginity slaughtered. • Alone in the lodgings. • The bed-room on the stairs. • Poking like blazes. • A gamahuche. • Aunt at market. • Clever dodges. • Naked in bed. • Homage to Priapus. • Belly to belly. • Belly to bum. • She on he. • The hand-glass. • Am I with child? • I leave M**g**e. • Sequel.

I had no one now but Loo. She had gone out one evening without leave, and met me. Her aunt scolded. I got very warm in my hints and words. She laughed at them, but still I hesitated, she was such an odd, unusual girl. I did not know what to make of her, and my failure with the servant made me cautious.

It was slow I found being always with my friends, the lady didn’t like my taking her husband out of a night without her, so though dining with them I went out by myself, but usually came back just when the shop was being shut up, to catch Loo, — even if I went out afterwards.

The night after the new servant came, I left my friends at a concert, and went home. Entering I heard voices wrangling, and stealthily crept as near the partition-door as I could. Loo and the boy were scuffling. One second I couldn’t hear a word, the next minute everything. “Don’t, — leave off, — I won’t let you,” — then a chair or something made a noise. “Oho,” cried she, — “shan’t.” “I’ve felt it, — ain’t it hairy?” chuckled the boy quite loud. Another scuffle. “I’ll tell aunt, — don’t, — oh! the lodgers will hear.” Again a scuffle. “Oh! — now — you — shan’t.” “Cunt,”

“Oh” — “Prick,” — a slap. One of them banged right up against the partition, something dropped, and all for a moment was silent. I mounted the stairs out of sight, and listened. The door opened, the two came out at the same moment, and the servant, who had not gone, came out of the kitchen. “I dropped the candle, and couldn’t see, and jumped agin the door,” said the boy. “You’re a stupid clumsy,” ‘said Loo. The boy went out of the house like a shot, the servant and Loo into the kitchen.

He’s been feeling her cunt, — perhaps she him, — the little bitch had been fucked, thought I.

A day or two before I made a hasty offer to take her to London for a week, — would she go? — “Oh! won’t I just, — I’m longing to see London.” Then, “How can I get away? — aunt would tell father.” No she could not. “Take a walk with me when the shop is shut up.” But the aunt rarely let her go out in the evening, nor in the day, except on Sundays. Put up to it by me she told her aunt she would. “We’ll go out together,” said aunt, — but it rained a little, aunt said it would spoil her clothes, and would not go.

Next night the aunt was out, the girl had the shop shut directly it was dark, and spite of aunt came out to meet me on the beach. I told her what I had heard. She admitted the boy had tried to feel her, but had not succeeded. “But I heard him say it was hairy.” “He’s a liar.” “I don’t believe you’ve got any hair there,” said I. “Oh! ain’t I though,” said she laughing. “Let me feel.” Then in the dark, little by little, I man-aged to feel a fat pair of thighs, and the tip of a cunt. She sat quiet, at last kissing me, and I her. One of her legs was over the other, so that my finger could only just rest on her clitoris. Then she felt my prick. It was a lovely hour I passed on that seat by the shingle. I whispered in conversation, “prick,” — “cunt,” — “fuck,” — that magical triad. “Oh! I knows what yer means.” “Open your thighs now,” “there then, — oh! you hurt,” — and she got up. “You wicked little devil, let me.” I thought her cunt seemed open enough. There was a row when she got home, but she cheeked her aunt boldly.

Next morning I went to the closet, some one was there, and wanting to bog badly I went down to the closet in the yard, pulled open the door sharply (it was not bolted, and there stood Loo with petticoats up, showing both legs nearly to her backside. She was just turning to seat herself. “Oh!” she shouted dropping her clothes. “Oh!” said I banging the door to, startled as much as she was. I went off, but an hour afterwards bought some fruit, — no one was in the shop. “I saw your bum.” “You didn’t,” said she without a blush. “I did.” “It was no fault of mine if you did.” “Show it me now, — there is no one here.” “Shan’t.” She really blushed, and sat down, but could not contain herself from laughing. I showed her my prick, and was nearly caught doing so, by some one entering the shop.

She got out another night to walk with a female friend whom the aunt thought Loo could be trusted with. Directly clear of the house, that girl went off with her lover, — five minutes later I was with Loo on the beach. It was moonlight. How I cursed the moon, then luckily heavy clouds hid it. Now I talked about copulation openly. She knew all about it she said, and at last admitted laughing that she had felt the shop-boy’s prick. “No,” no other man’s excepting quite small boys, — she had felt those. “Let me do it to you, – – why not?” “I would, but I am frightened, — sup- pose I had a child.” I told her how I would prevent her having one. No, she was frightened. We felt each other well. How I restrained myself from frigging God only knows; but we were only about an hour gone.

Next day I felt her quim in the shop and again as she went up to bed, and showed her my prick. What risks I ran, and how I escaped! Had my friend opened his door, or the girl opposite opened hers, I must have been caught.

I found she did not like being in the shop, did not like her aunt, and soon after said she would go away with me to London, if I liked (I’d now offered to keep her). That bothered me, I had only just got rid of a woman, and did not want another. “But in London you’d come to grief, — perhaps go on the town, and be miserable.” Well she didn’t care, she wouldn’t stop with her aunt, didn’t want to go home — had had enough of them. She had a sister who was gay at ****, who told her she was very jolly. The murder was out, her cheek and frank acceptance of baudy suggestions, her knowledge of fucking, were due to her gay sister. At once I said, “What’s the good of sitting here by the sea where we may be known? — let’s go and have a chat and a glass of wine in a house.” “No.” “Why you know you’ve been fucked, Loo,” said I angry, not mincing words now, and believing she was shamming for a purpose. “I’ll take my solemn oath on any Bible, I ain’t had it done to me,” said she earnestly,

— but I didn’t believe her.

There were constant quarrels now between her and her aunt, — we heard them upstairs. Mrs. L**g, my friend, complained of the noise. Then I found that Loo had been sent there by her father to keep her away from her gay sister. All this time my friends had never noticed my goings on with the girl, all having been done by us two with such stealth.

After that night I talked open smut to her, and felt her, and she felt my prick on every opportunity. We discussed fucking, and getting with child, as if we were married. She a girl of sixteen would look me in the face, and laugh about it without the sign of a blush. It was the most extraordinary state of things I ever have experienced; but matters stopped there. A month nearly had passed, I had shagged the woman (already named) on the sands two or three times, to keep myself from fist-fucking, and liked the novelty of the place; but I was very lewed on Loo. She liked the spooning, and liked my feeling her cunt, but, “No, I’m frightened, — I won’t go anywhere with you, — I won’t let you do it.” “I fucked a girl on the sands, as you would not let me,” said I in just those words. “Lor you didn’t.” “I did.” She became quite silent.

My friends were now leaving. “I’m going away with them Loo, as you won’t meet me.” I said that on two successive days. She made no reply. Sunday came. “Come out this evening.” “I’m going to church with aunt.” “Well, meet me instead.” She did, and I got her without any trouble to the china-shop, and five minutes after that, we were sitting close together, her hand round my prick, I titillating her clitoris, our mouths glued together, speechless. Oh! those lovely five minutes. Her thighs and bum gently moved. “Oh! don’t.” “Get on the bed, Loo, — don’t be foolish, — we’ll feel each other better there.” She rose. “Take off your gown, you will rumple it.” She took it off in silence, and got on to the bed herself without help. We laid down. “What a lovely fat bum you have. — I must kiss it.” I loosened my trousers. “There now, let my prick just touch your belly, — feel me.” My fingers slipped along her cunt, and I tried to put one up it. “Oh! you hurt.” Is she virgin? Then without any resistance I laid on her. She sighed, her thighs opened, I adjusted my prick, grasped her buttocks firmly, and thrust. “Oh — ohoo! — bar!” one loud cry only. I had shattered it in three or four hard thrusts. She was a virgin, and a tough one. My sperm was filling her cunt the next minute. She had meant fucking some hours before, I am sure of it, and almost fancy now, that she had made up her mind to have it done to her, long before that Sunday.

Coming to my senses, “Did you like it — did it give you pleasure?” “No it hurt,” said she with perfect tranquility. I laid still, kissing her, nestling up her my stiff prick, put my fingers down, and found them red. I had put a towel on the bed, and now pushed it under her buttocks, and uncunted, — I thought soiling her linen might cause her difficulty. For a moment to my delight, I saw the unusual sight of a virgin cunt just fucked, and then pushed the napkin between her thighs. “You never have had it before,” I remarked. “I told you so,” she replied. She laid still till I suggested her washing. As she washed, “You’ve made me bleed,” and she laughed. The affair did not seem very serious to her. Then we talked, I saw her cunt, and fucked her twice more, — the second poke I stopped in the middle. “Don’t you feel pleasure now?” “Oh! yes — oho, ah!” She did not get home till past ten o’clock. I went home first. Her aunt rowed her in the passage. Walking with a friend, — walking with a friend was her only reply. My friends heard the row in the passage, as well as I, and next morning re-marked, they were afraid that shop-girl was giving her aunt much trouble, — Mrs. L**g said she looked an impudent minx.

Then came that delicious time when a couple both on heat scheme how to fuck on the sly. It seems to me the most delicious gratification of sexual passion, when it is done thus successfully. To kiss, and finger your privates, whisper as you pass, give signals to each other, cunt in one’s mind, cock in the other’s; to think all day when, where, and how the copulation is to come off: to watch this one who is in the way, scheme to get the other out of the way, hatch excuses for getting out of the house, tales about where you have been, and reasons for coming in late is delightful. I love the secret joys of success in deceiving, the passionate fuck here, there, anywhere, just as the opportunity offers; the rapid spend from genitals in which from thinking constantly of it, with lewed desire for hours, the sperm and sexual juices have been accumulating, ready for mingling. I had all this with Loo, have had it with many other women since the age of sixteen, and know nothing in life so soul- absorbing, so delicious. Next day we felt each other in the shop, on the stair-case, and going up to bed. Next day promised to be unsuccessful for us, but I was so lewed that I was ready for any risk, — she much the same. We could think of no place, till suddenly, “There is the bed-room on the stairs, — it’s empty, — no one will think of your being in there.” I went in the evening to a bazaar with my friends, left them there; and then slipped into the house, and into the bed-room unobserved. The servant had left, the aunt went out, and Loo slipped into the room.

She had left the boy in the shop. I fucked her quite in darkness on the bed-side, — the boy thought she had gone up to her bed-room. I sat patiently half an hour, then up she came, and we did it again. Nearly another hour and again she came, and was fucked. “You haven’t washed your cunt, have you?” “No, — ought I?” said she. “Isn’t fucking nice?” “Oh! ain’t it just!” The -boy wondered at her keeping the shop open so late. “The bed (a feather one) will show,” said I. “As I come down in the morning, or directly Tom’s gone, I’ll set it to rights,” said she.

For the rest of the time of my acquaintance with this red-haired damsel, my dodges and devices to get her were mostly like those with little Sally, already told of. The circumstances were nearly the same. A sea-coast town, a lodging-house, a landlady, a young lady anxious to get her cunt buttered, a man in full health, intent on buttering it for her. Who could under those circumstances prevent copulation?

The next night she went out without asking leave, and I had her in the china-shop. “My darling let’s look at your cunt.” She opened her thighs quite freely. “Does it look much different to what it did?” She had been trying to look at it in the glass, but couldn’t see, — she hadn’t a hand- glass. “But it feels quite different,” she remarked. We fucked like blazes for a couple of hours. There was a great row, and threats of the aunt about her absence, when she got back.

She was biggish, almost a woman in form, but with girlish expression in face. Excepting for that she looked eighteen. She had large thighs, a fat backside, and nice plump, but little breasts. Her flesh was beautifully white. She had a pretty cunt, a very fully-developed clitoris, and the hair on it was more carroty than that on her head. I had never yet seen a regular carroty cunt, but there was not much hair, — in that respect it looked sixteen. The edge of the split hymen was well jagged, any one could have seen that it had not been split up long. I looked at it till the exceptional letch seized me. I tickled the clitoris with my tongue till she gave a sigh, then the idea of giving her full pleasure enchanted me. I closed my mouth on it, and licked, and licked, and thrust my tongue in and out, till she writhed. “Leave off, — oh! — it’s dirty, — oho!” My jaws ached, my tongue was weary, I thought it was impossible to finish her, till with a strong effort, gliding my tongue over her clitoris, with all the rapidity that fatigue would let me, her thighs opened, and with a low yawling, half-moan, half-sigh she spent, clutching my hair spasmodically, and her thighs nipping. I don’t know how long I had been operating on her, and wonder why I did not fetch her sooner. I never did it to her again, and can’t account for this sudden letch, — I never can give reasons for gamahuching one woman, and not another. Next day my friends left, I stayed, and hired their two rooms, and the odd bed-room, — the old landlady said she could not let them together. The weather was getting cold, no other lodgers were expected, the shop-business fell off. The landlady next day asked if I would mind her waiting on me, as she and her niece could do all I wanted, unless other lodgers came. Though delighted I said in a dissatisfied manner that I expected to be properly cooked for, and waited upon; that I didn’t like persons above their positions about me, and so on. Oh! she’d take care, and her niece should wear a cap. Soon after she returned. Would I excuse the cap, — her niece would not wear one; — she added that the girl had given her father lots of trouble, and now gave her trouble, — and she should send her home. How I laughed in my sleeve; the servant left, the shop-boy remained, a charwoman came for an hour daily, and the landlady, Loo, and I were alone in the house at night.

I got lots of trouble, sending the landlady out to buy this and that. Whenever I wanted her out of the way I sent her to buy something. I kept her hard at cooking, and did not care what it cost to get her out of the house, nor did she, for she got profits. When she was out up came Loo. In a trice I had her on my bed, and shagged her. The landlady laid the cloth, my beefsteak was burnt, and I grumbled. She was very sorry. Then she laid the cloth an hour before my meal, so that she might cook. I wasn’t going to have a table-cloth on in the room all day, — I should dine out. Oh! she was so sorry. “Get a servant then.” Well she would, — but would I mind her niece without a cap laying it? “No, let her,” — and up came Loo. What a lark! the woman was cooking whilst I was pulling up Loo’s petticoats, slapping her backside, kissing her motte, she laying the cloth. Then I slipped into my bed-room. Then knock, knock, “Your dinner’s on table sir.” In I went. “I see the young woman has laid it all right.” “Yes sir, I’ll see that she does.” I rang, and up came Loo. “A bottle of pale ale.” The shop-boy fetched it, Loo cleared the table, and had a glass of ale, her aunt had gone out to buy me something so we fucked. A randier little bitch never had a prick up her. At a late dinner it was the same game, and Loo’s cunt had another seminal libation. What a jolly day! Is it my luck, or my clever manoeuvring? I think that latter, for I have had much practice in this sort of thing.

For a week, twice a day, and mostly three times I had the girl. She gave me hints when to get her. “Aunt will go out at such a time.” “Where will the boy be?” “In the shop, — I’ll tell him I must be in the kitchen, — he dare not leave the shop, — if he goes in-to the parlour even, aunt would send him about his business, — he puts any money he takes down on to the counter, till aunt takes it.” Then up skipped Loo directly she thought it safe, got on to my bed, and almost pulled her own petticoats up, so longing was she for the prick. Directly afterwards, and often with her carroty quim unwashed, off she went. I grumbled about her want of attention to her aunt, to keep up the deception. The old woman let out about the girl being a wild one, and giving her trouble, and then for a couple of days the woman attended to me herself, and I had no poke.

“Aunt goes to market herself to-morrow,” whispered Loo grinning. During the season a relative went to the market for her. At six o’clock next morning off aunt went, Loo partially dressed, let her out. The boy was to have been there to open the shop. He entered by the private door to do so, and Loo had cunningly told him to come later. The lock was always bolted back when the door was opened in the morning, so that lodgers could let themselves in and out. The lass omitted this, and there were we in the house alone and secure, I in bed ready.

Upstairs she ran like a hare, “Pull off all your clothes, — yes, naked.” “No I won’t,” — the only objection I ever heard her make. But I stripped her and myself, and in a minute we were both start naked in my bed together. What a delicious cuddle we had on that chilly morning! Then I gratified my eyes, never having seen her naked before. A little reddish hair was just showing in her armpits. A kiss on her pretty little breasts and her red-haired motte, a peep at the ragged, jagged opening of her cunt. I knelt over her, and she kissed my prick, — never before, and she did it with such delight. Then ouf! in tight libidinous naked embrace our genitals coupled. Oh! what a divine fuck it was, — luckily with a towel under her back-side, I don’t spoil sheets, and give trouble now, — I deluged her cunt. Everything is nice to people in copulation. “Put your hand down darling, and feel my prick in you.” “Oh! isn’t it wet!” “Do you like fucking naked in bed?” “Oh! yes, it is nice, — do married people do it naked?”

Then lying coupled, nestling our bellies, talking of fucking, instructing her (half the delight of having a virgin is in instructing her in libidinous acts, and in-stilling into her mind ideals of copulation), kissing, tongue- sucking at intervals. We passed a time. “Can you feel that my prick’s getting smaller in your cunt?” “Yes it is.” “Do you like the feel of the spunk in it?” “Oh yes I do” (a question I have put to all my virgins before, but ever fresh it comes). “Feel my prick now it’s out. Isn’t it small!” “Yes, — I shall try to make it stiff.” “Do love, — let me look at your cunt.” Thighs wide opened I saw the offering my prick had left there. “Would you like to see your cunt now?” “Yes, — but it looks nasty, don’t it?” “No dear.” I stiffened. “Look love, look at my prick. — let’s fuck before your aunt comes in, — get up, — kneel, — there, that’s it,” — and then with her white, smooth, hard backside against my belly as I knelt at the back of, her, I had another glorious fuck in her smooth, sperm-lubricated vulva.

“What am I doing dear?” “Oh! — ah! — a doin it to me — ah” “Say flicking.” “Fuck — hing, — ah! ah!” We are quiet, I am bending over her, hands quiet on her buttocks, motionless all but in the last throbbing of my prick, and the gentle clipping of her cunt round it, as my ejaculation finished.

My prick kept in its channel, her bum close into my belly. What delicious tranquility, and soft baudy dreaming. “Is it nice this way dear?” (the first time I had done it so). “Oh! yes, do married people do it this way ever?” A silence. “How long’s aunt been gone? — oh! that’s the boy ringing.” “Don’t move Loo, — my prick’s stiff yet.” A pause. “Oh! I’d better, — he’ll keep on a ringing, — what a nuisance.” “Let him ring.” “Oh! take it out, — he might tell aunt, — and I’ve got to dress.” Out I pulled it, she dressed (a frock over her chemise). “I shall tell him I fell asleep.” Then she let him in, and again came to me. We kissed, felt each other’s genitals. “Don’t wash your cunt, Loo, and we’ll do it again at breakfast.” Off she went, dressed properly, and lighted the kitchen-fire.

When she brought my breakfast, “I wish we could sleep together.” “So do I,” she replied. “We’d sleep naked.” “Yes,” said she grinning, but we never did. We could not manage a poke till after luncheon, and then did it on the sofa, backside to belly again, because it took so long to make the feather-bed look square, after we had rumpled it. How quickly she rumped up to my prick! — how gloriously she fucked! She was made for fucking, and loved it. I guess that in a year or two, when full-grown, it will take a strong man to do all her carnal work. Her exact age was sixteen years and one month the day I broached her.

We were baulked all the next day, for the aunt at-tended to me, but the next morning went to market. The boy’s mother was ill, so Loo told him he might come late, and again in bed naked we strummed. I put her on the top of me. Libidinous devices, played with the young lass, pleased me fifty times as much as with an accomplished courtesan. “Are you coming Loo?” “Y — hes, y — hes,” — our salivas were mingling. “Do married people do it like that?” said she as she lay on the top of me after her spend.

I had every meal at home, and had cooking and things fetched at intervals all day long, to get the aunt out of the way. To my annoyance she said she must get a servant, for it was too much for her. “Why don’t you make your niece do more?” “She don’t like waiting (all arranged), — the girl’s a rare trouble to me, and to her poor father; but I must send her home.” “As you like, but I am not likely to dine at home so much.” No servant was got, — one would have spoiled all, — so I did not lose my lass. Every other morning the aunt was away for about two hours, and did not know the boy came late (he was glad to come late), for the shop was always open before she returned. We lost no time, my prick was in Loo’s cunt five minutes after her aunt went out, and generally in it a quarter of an hour before she came back. Between our carnal exercises, she with only a frock on lighted the kitchen-fire, and let the boy in, stripping and getting into bed with me like lightning between those performances. She now kissed and toyed me most lasciviously directly she got into bed.

One morning I lent her a hand-glass, and helped her to inspect her cunt. She contemplated it with great satisfaction. I pointed out to her the edges of the ruptured hymen, — it almost looked like a cock’s-comb on each side, she said.

“I wonder if I’m in the family way,” said she one day just after we had fucked, and whilst she was taking away my breakfast things. She had had no symptoms, no sensations that she knew of, but she wondered, — she would know by the following Monday. On Monday she was all right, the redness showed, and for three days she was untouched. Then we resumed our fornication, and for nearly a month more carried on this sweet little game of copulation, and I believe unsuspected excepting by the boy.

It was close to November, all visitors were gone, and I told her then that I must leave, and then for the first time she showed anxiety about her future, and shed tears. But from conversation, though she had now got very close, I firmly believe she had made up her mind to turn strumpet. Her aunt and she quarrelled daily. Aunt was always threatening to send her home, she threatening to run away. I urged her going home, and one morning feeling uneasy about her, I gave her twenty pounds in sovereigns. That set her crying violently (she had never asked me for a farthing). As I could not take her to London (which it was impossible for me to do), perhaps she’d go home. “If you don’t go home, stay here, — you’re handsome, — you’ll get a sweetheart, and marry if you’re careful, — he won’t find out what you’ve done.” Only common shop-people spoke to her she remarked with a toss of her head, as if she thought them not good enough.

Two of her monthly periods had passed since I first had her, without signs of pregnancy. I felt quite comfortable about that, and after a heavy day’s fucking, and three hicks on the last morning done with great risk, to my astonishment she suddenly cried bitterly, and just before her aunt came home, put her bonnet on, went out, and I never saw her more. The aunt was in a state of anxiety when I left, and so was I, the girl being so peculiar in character. I feared she would come to London, but I never saw her, if she did. The following spring, being about twenty miles from the town, I went there purposely to enquire. As I saw the aunt in the shop I went in, and bought something.

The aunt knew me, smiled, and asked if I were coming to M***g**e again. “Where is your niece?” said I casually. “Oh! gone home — or somewhere.” After a pause, “She gave my poor brother lots of trouble.” I asked one or two fishing questions, but learnt nothing further. I am convinced that she turned gay, and would have done so whether I had had her or not. She was made for much fucking, was ready for it, waiting for it. I believe she often had felt the shop-boy’s prick though she denied that. She admitted once having done so, but they were always scuffling.

It is funny that I should so soon after I had a lady with a ginger-coloured motte, have fallen upon a red-haired motte. Liking neither of the colours I yet much enjoyed both women, but Loo far better than the other, owing to her youth, freshness, and inexperience. But each woman as she succeeds another, seems fresh to me, and brings her own peculiar charms and enjoyment. The delights of women are inexhaustible.

(I was alone nearly all this time at M**g**e, the season was over; what acquaintances I had had left, and these notes were written partly whilst there, and the rest soon after, for I had just then strongly on me the desire of describing the incidents of my private life, and writing them gave me the greatest pleasure. The account of my doings with Loo the red-haired, are word for word as I then wrote them.)