A letch for juveniles. • On big and little cunts. • In L**c**t*r S****e. • Polly Carter, the young box-maker. • The brothel. • “Show us yer thing.” • Willing for half a crown. • Free, easy, and lewed. • My quick spend. • Her disappointed cunt. • Re- medial frig. • Hot cunted. • Her occupation and habits. • Of female boxmakers. • A father eluded. • Jemima Smith. • A chance virginity. • I personate a doctor. • Split up and spit up. • A friend’s experiences. • Who first fucks poor girls. • Jemima on boxmakers’ morals. • A mother dodged. • A cheated gin bottle.
I have now great knowledge of the full grown, full cunted, thoroughly developed woman, my taste has mainly run in their direction, but recently I thought of the younger ones, and that I should like to try those less practised in the art of love, those with forms immature, with smaller and unfledged cunts, and with less cunning and experience in the ways of men, and with a curiosity to satisfy about the male. — For all that, I continued my attentions to the more matured females, and the nascent letch for a juvenile split went into abeyance.
Again the letch for a youthful cunt came on strongly. The idea of seeing a little delicate unfledged slit between two little thighs, instead of the bushy haired, five inch, fat lipped gaps, began to give me a fever of anticipation. I hesitated still a while in procuring my-self that voluptuous satisfaction. Why I can not say, but I have been subject to lustful vagaries, hesitations, diffidence and timidity, as well as rash impulses in love affairs, which I cannot account for. So irrational and contradictory at times have they been, that I have been astonished at myself, so will not seek reasons for my hesitation at this time. Moreover my numerous Paphian friends have at times told me of similar male eccentricities, so that I come to the conclusion that many men are as absurd in their behaviour. But chance brought my letch to the front, and to accomplishment.
One night towards the end of November in L**c**t*r S***e., I accosted a lass who looked between fifteen and sixteen years old. She was walking
very fast, and I was not quite sure whether she was on the town or not, but know that girls out by themselves at that time at night more frequently than otherwise get their cunts filled for love or money, before they get home.
“Come with me,” I said walking by the side of her. She slackened pace, but did not reply. I repeated it, she stopped, hesitated, looked at me and replied, “I can’t stop long.” “You shan’t, but come.” In three minutes we were in a house new to me, but actually at the angle of L**c**t*r S***e, tho with a side door. — (Now covered with a fine building.)
I saw directly we were in the bedroom, that she was a work girl. — “I can’t undress, it’ll take me such a time to get em on agin.” “Yes you must.” “Just help us then, it’s in a knot behind.” — Off her clothes went hurriedly. She was poorly dressed, and not too clean, I had not expected anything else. “I’ll take off my boots cos they’ll muddy the bed,” said she in a gossiping manner, and was soon on the bed in a dirty chemise only, and was a fairly good looking, dark eyed and very dark haired girl. I threw up her chemise and saw a cunt quite girlish in appearance, with a little bush of short, dark hair, about as much as would cover a half crown, surrounding the top of her split and dying away altogether a little way down the lips, which were fattish and pudgy. Whilst standing and looking at it (her thighs obligingly open without my asking), “Show us yer thing,” said she. On producing it, she sat up and felt it earnestly, in quite a simple way, as if it pleased her. “Pull the skin off.” I did and she chuckled. — “Ain’t it red?” “Do you want it?” “Shan’t tell yer; do it sir,” and she fell back laughing. Her manner was funny, lewed, but very natural, and not a bit like a harlot’s. — “When were you last done?” “My last overtime night, a week ago.” “Are you quite well?” I asked touching her cunt. “Oh I arn’t got no illness, yer may see for yerself, sir.”
I mounted her quickly, being full of sperm that night. The little cunt excited me — its tightness pleased me, tho I don’t like very tight cunts generally — and her manner shewed me that she wanted it and that she was not quite a strumpet. “Let me feel it in,” said she putting her little hand down between our bellies when I was up her. Then instantly withdrawing it, and oscillating pleasurably her little backside in unison with mine, all on a sudden I spent copiously in her little cunt, too quickly
for my wish, but as I often have done with a fresh girl when I have been three or four days without spending previously.
“Oh go on pushing I was just a commin, said she, peevishly, and working her cunt up to me, but my prick shrinking rapidly uncunted and I turned off of her. — “What a shame, and I was just a comin,” and she began frigging herself, laying on her back, just as I had got off of her and thighs open my sperm oozing from it. And looking hard at me she frigged herself till she spent. There was no sham about it, she had been baulked by my rapid spend, and finished her pleasure by the aid of her fingers, looking at me and I dare say thinking of my prick.
“It’s just as nice that way,” said I. “No it ain’t, I likes to do it when the man does.” And then she told me she worked in the city, left at six o’clock nightly unless busy, and then worked till eight o’clock for which extra she got four pence. — She went there daily unless they were short of work. — She was fifteen and a half, and had been fucked about two months, “on Michaelmas day.” A lot of young girls worked in the same warehouse, and they all did it with chaps she believed, tho some of them said they didn’t. One of the apprentices did it to her first. He was about sixteen and she would not let him now, they had quarrelled, “Besides, he never gived me nothing.” — Her father knew the time she ought to be home regular, and kept her in, and gave it her pretty sharp if not home at proper time. But when she worked overtime, he didn’t know exactly when she left. — “And then you get fucked.” “Yes, if I’m lucky— but not often.” — Yes she liked it — “It’s such pleasure ain’t it?” said she, looking lewed, — “but I must go.”
I told her to lay still and I would fuck her if she liked but not otherwise. The edge of my lust being taken off, I could talk coolly about that hot operation, and she amused me. — “Yes, I’d like it, but what’s the time?” I told her. “Well do it agin at once then.” “My dear I can’t yet.” — She had not moved an inch during our conversation, which was nearly word for word as written, but lay with her fingers still twiddling her wet clitoris, and my sperm showing, I leaning on my el-bow laying by her side and looking at her. — It was a common baudy house where they allowed young girls to go, the light was poor, the bed dingy, the girl’s stockings dirty, her chemise as bad, and my dainty prick seemed for the moment to have had enough of it.
But her youthful cunt her evident lust, and coarse frankness made me wish for her again.
“Frig my prick up there,” said I. — She laid hold of it and frigged so clumsily that her art was useless. — “It won’t get stiff,” said she, in a disappointed manner. “Well, you don’t want it again.”
“Yes, I’d like it.” “Well — I’ll try myself,” and I knelt between her thighs, pulled open her cunt lips and looked at the thick libation which bedewed its surface, all the time asking her questions about her sensations, and frigging myself briskly. As I did all this I stiffened, forgot about dirty bed, chemise, and stockings, and was soon covering her little belly with mine and churning up my spunk in her tight little cunt till the grip of it fetched me, and she spent demonstratively with me. Didn’t the young bitch like it?
We washed. Then I put her on the bed and looked at the clean little quim and paid her. She would meet me the next night at the same time, and would buy a clean pair of stockings (I gave her the money for them as I have done a dozen girls), she had none at home clean, and she dare not put on a clean chemise till Sunday, her mother would know why if she did. — She reminded me much in her little dodges, and her talk, of yellow haired Kitty whom I knew some years ago, Kitty was a lady naturally — this one a coarse little bitch — and as hot arsed as ginger.
The first thing she did the next evening when I met her, was to put on the clean stockings before me, and when we had finished love making, she took them off — her mother must not know of them. She had evidently made some attempt to get herself clean and bet-ter dressed. — “Yours is a beautiful cock,” said she, as she felt it clumsily. — I fucked her twice to her great pleasure. “Oh ain’t it nice a doing it,” and we parted. There would be no late work the next night she said, there might be next week, her father knew sometimes for he worked in the city too, and sometimes he called at the warehouse to know if his girl was going to work late, he thought to catch her out, but didn’t always. She grinned as she told me. Nothing but locking a girl up in a room by herself will prevent her getting fucked, if she means it; and the opportunities of doing it among the humbler classes are hourly — as I know pretty well. You may get any of them, if you don’t mind your time and money. — Well — it is what the two sexes were all made for, — to give pleasure to each other.
Then she told me she would be at half past six o’clock in * * * * * on other nights, that it took her exactly half an hour to walk there. — They left off work as it struck six, and at a quarter to seven if she wasn’t in doors, her father “larruped” her unless she could tell why. Her name was Polly Carter.
Fresh as she was to me — new as her cunt was to me, I seemed to have had enough of her, yet out of curiosity only, I waited there on a day soon after at half past six. She came along with two other girls of about the same size and age seemingly. She saw me and nodded, the other two looked round after me, as if she had told them of me. — I Iet them go out of sight when — “Perhaps one of the others will let me have her,” came at a jump into my mind, and following rapidly I overtook them, and saw her parting with one, whilst she and the other turned up W**d**r St.
I was on cunt hunt at once. The novelty of their youth again set me on. I overtook the girl who was alone — introducing myself by asking if she knew where Polly Carter was. — Yes she had just parted with her. “I’m her friend, and have seen you with her, but I wish you would tell me something about her.” “Oh you’re her young man,” said she surprised. — What did I want to know — I told her that we could not talk there in the street, would she come with me and I would give her half a crown. She hesitated long, asked one or two questions, but at length agreed, for I pressed her, and said five shillings. We went to the same house. In the room she looked round in that curious way which I have noticed fresh but frisky ones always do, at their first introduction to a baudy house. Getting familiar, sitting, I asked her plain, then suggestive, and at last smutty questions about Polly Car-ter and her sweetheart; cunningly she fenced me, she didn’t know Polly’s business, or what she did, or didn’t. She knew that she didn’t do wrong things, if other gals did. Then I said, “My little darling I’ve fucked Polly on that very bed.” “0, you liar you haven’t,” seemingly quite startled. Then she told me her name was Jemima Smith. She was called Jemmy.
I repeated, described Polly’s stockings, petticoats, legs, backside, and cunt, in the plainest language. To all she only said, “Oh! Oh!” then laughed at last. She seemed a knowing one, affected no ignorance, yet there was something in her manner I could not under-stand. “Well I’ve done Polly no harm, nor should I any girl, I know how to prevent that as
a doctor.” “Are you a doctor?” “Yes.” “I wish you’d tell me what to do with my arm then I tore it agin a nail yesterday, reaching a heavy bundle down from a shelf.” “Take off your frock then.” — She did partly, bared the arm from armpit to hand, and shewed a bad tear of the flesh. I took paper from my pocket book, and wrote a simple thing down which I knew to be good for slight wounds, and gave her a shilling to buy it with, telling her she need only ask for two pennyworth — “but you must kiss me for it.” She did willingly — “And here are the five shillings, but you’ve told me nothing, tho I’m sure you know who fucks Polly Carter.” “I don’t really but I guess,” and she named some youth. Then she got curious about my doings with Polly, and I told her as much as I liked, dwelling voluptuously on the pleasures we had together. She listened eagerly re- marking at times, “I don’t believe it,” but her eyes twinkled, and at length she was silent listening. She was now quietly lewed. I asked who had done it to her. — “No one,” she’d swear. I was sure some one had, and if I saw her cunt could tell in a second, having seen scores of girls’ cunts, virgins and no virgins. “Have you really?” “Yes,” and was sure she had a pretty cunt. “Let me see, and if you are virgin, I’ll give you half a crown.” — Again as if doubting, she asked about my doings with Polly — and then sat reflecting. — All girls at one time in these sexual crises seem to be silently reflecting.
I told her more, and invented a little, and kissed her voluptuously, asking to let me see her thighs — only for a minute. — No — she would not let me, and I hadn’t seen Polly naked she was sure. — I told all again, and described Polly’s form, till at last she believed, I think. Then little by little, I pinched her thighs and bum out-side, got out my prick, got her to feel it, and used all the other little endearments and artifices of love, till still refusing, and chuckling at my attempts, my hand at length roved under her petticoats, over naked bum, belly, and thighs, and from navel to knees. I felt that her motte was not rough, and at length after re-fusing me, she on my solemn promise not to tell Polly, let me put her on to the bed. With thighs wide apart, and with a little flinching which I stopped by repeating that I was a doctor, and not to be humbugged, I pulled a pair of delicate pretty pink-lined hairless lips apart, and saw she was “Virgo intacta.”
It was such a lovely pair of lips, enclosing such a sweet coral pink little delicate cunt, with the mere signs of nut-brown hair showing on the
motte above, just at the parting of the flesh — just where the lips begin to form and swell, at the bottom of the belly, that my prick rose throbbing furiously. I felt mad for her, and that if I could get her no other way, I would ravish her. I was astonished at my chance, not having for a moment anticipated her being anything but one of the thousand little wenches in workshops and manufacturies, who working by day, are strumpets for gain or pleasure at night. She had come into the house with me freely, like any little whore. — I felt sure that if she squealed, no one would take notice of it, so have her I would. Just as well I might as some boxmaker, I thought, for she and Polly worked at making card- board boxes.
As I looked at her cunt, she now lay quietly and without a flinch whilst I praised it. — Then I let her get up, shewed her my erection, and told her the cause, and gave her another half crown to give her confidence in my promises and offered a bright sovereign, if she’d let me do what I had done to Polly, to whom I may add I had only given half a crown for her favors. I chinked the sovereign on the table before her.
The gold upset her, the sight of it I find upsets a woman when the mere promise won’t. She was quiet, all but saying “no — no —no” — but she felt my prick (half sitting on my knees) curiously, and listened to my account of the pleasure it gave. — Yes she knew what some of the girls said about it — but no. — Yes I might go on feeling her, she didn’t mind that, but “no
— oh no — it would be found out.” She had sisters. Her mother might. — She had no father. — “Why your mother does not look at your cunt.” “No,” and she laughed outright. — “Well, lay down then and let me rub my cock tip against it, it will give me pleasure, and you a little, and that can’t hurt you.” — Saying no
— yet with scarcely any resistance. I placed her on the bed. Soon she let me lay upon her, with my prick against her little pink cunt, for which posture I had promised her a shilling, telling her at the same time, she was a goose not to get the golden sovereign.
The animal was now I expect pretty well roused in
her, by feeling my prick and my delicate fingering of her cunt. — Young as she was she seemed voluptuously subdued. — “You’ll hurt me.” — I
swore it was all pleasure and no pain. — Then she was silent and her thighs opened wider under my pressure. As quietly as I could under the sexual excitement, I lodged my prick, but without pushing or pressing too much on her, then gathered her little bum in my hands, sunk on to her belly and thrust. Stiffer than horn was my engine. — “Oh, you hurt.
— Don’t. — Oh — oo,” she cried out, and struggled, but I had her arse in my grasp like a vice, she could not move an inch from me, I drove with ten horse power against her virginity, and in half a dozen rapid lunges, I felt my prick gliding up the little cunt; the barrier was gone, but all was tight, soft, and lubricious. She moaned almost in a whisper for a second or two, and then lay quietly under me, as I lay with my prick for a minute quiescent up her, directly it had probed to its depths.
Then in the little lovely tube I fucked with measured pace. What a tranquilliser the prick is to the most restive lasses when once it is up them. — She was quite still now. (They all are at this stage.) — My prick began to throb as if it would burst, quicker I fucked, a strong gush of spunk filled her, and I sunk quietly down, unable to kiss her, for as she lay she was too short. — What sameness in all these devices, cunning attacks, lies, promises, voluptuous talk, feeling, frigging and victory. All nearly the same yet ever successful, ever fresh ever delicious — and to both employed.
She lay quite still, I uncunted, found blood on my handkerchief which I had put under her bum, and blood mixing with my sperm which covered her cunt. I got warm water, and washed her cunt myself. — She let me do everything. — Then she looked quite serious. — Then when I put the sovereign into her little hand, she smiled.
This all took place in little more than an hour. Never had a virginity come to my penis so rapidly, so unexpectedly. When she entered the house with me, I should as soon have expected to find a prick under those little petticoats, as an unbroken hymen.
My friend L***s has often told me that he has picked up half a dozen virgins in the streets. That a sovereign, offered to lasses looking in at a Linen-drapers, will get them to a house, and that the sight of the gold vanquishes them. He looks out for them quite young, for that turned sixteen they are scarcely ever virgins. He thinks from a large acquaintance with these youthful strums, that their cousins and friends
(all boys — mere street boys of their own age), get the virginities for nothing, and before the girls are fifteen years old.
The old woman with whom Mary Davis lodged some years ago, I recollect telling me much the same; but I neither quite believed her, nor my friend L* * * *s, fancying that he was a braggart, tho I believed him to be an old hand at mastering females. Much talk with gay women, and my own experience makes me believe both now, and that nearly the whole of the girls of the lowest classes begin copulating with boys of about their own age, when about fourteen years old.
Few of the tens of thousands of whores in London gave their virginities either to gentlemen, or to young, or old men — or to men at all. Their own low class lads had then’. The street boys’ dirty pricks went up their little cunts first. — This is greatly to be regretted, for street boys cannot appreciate the treasures they destroy. A virginity taken by a street boy of sixteen, is a pearl cast to a swine. Any cunt is good enough for such an experience. — To such an animal, a matron of fifty or sixty would give him as much, if not more pleasure than a virgin. I am sure of this even from my own experience, for I cared nothing whatever about the virginities I took early in my life. It was cunt alone I cared about, and any cunt for my pleasure then was good enough.
She now seemed in no hurry to go — her mother would think it was overtime, but she would rather go if I’d let her — The irruption into her other privates, I saw had given her a shock, but I lusted for her again, and wanted her to wait till my prick stood — and such was my mental rousing by what took place, that as I talked with her, I began to wonder whether by her help I might not get another young virgin. I asked her to drink — and giving the servant money, she returned with some gin. The girl eyed the bottle, and as soon as the servant had left said “Oh ain’t she cheated you, you gave half a crown, and there ain’t eighteen penny-worth there.” It’s extraordinary the knowledge these young bitches have about drink. I have found it so with young ones before this one. They seem always on the look out to escape being cheated.
She took a glass refusing more, even that she said would make her head ache. Her cunt was still bleeding. When on saying I meant to do it again, “Oh you shan’t it will hurt so.” — I had more trouble in inducing her than
I had at first — but at last my prick was safe up her tight little vagina, and tranquilly fucking
I spent, but without giving her pleasure, tho I prolonged my exercise to the utmost in hopes of fetching her.
I parted with her, promising half a sovereign if she would meet me on the Monday following at the same time, and tell no one else, and specially Polly Carter or any other of her fellow work girls.
Until I met her again I could think of nothing but this tight little hairless cunt, wondering at the facility with which spite of its smallness it admitted my prick, and comparing my sensations when up it with those I felt when up the full sized article; — Mrs. W***t**s fat full fledged cunt was most vividly in my mind when comparing, that being the most recent one of mature size which I have fucked.