Big-eyed Betsy Johnson. • Early acquaintance. • Brothels closed. • Ten years later. • It’s you Betsy! • Her huge nymphet. • Protuberant eyes. • Witty baudiness. • My erotic requests. • Her help. • With Betsy and a man. • Hesitations. • His offers. • I frig him. • His arsehole offered. • No erection available. • Pestles and bumholes. • Spunk and a toothpick. • I poke Betsy. • His thumb on my bum. • A little virgin wanted. • One found. • At J***s St. with her. • Another Molly. • Betsy’s baudy antics. • Molly modest, stripped, and liquored up. • Pitching shillings at cunts. • Molly refuses my amatory advances. • Betsy’s threats.

[Before I tell about my acquaintance with this woman, — I must recall some facts to explain how that acquaintance was first made.

Some time before the termination of my acquaintance with Sarah Mavis, with whom I was so desperately infatuated, the London public had a fit of virtue to which it is subject periodically. It commenced a crusade against gay women, and principally those frequenting Regent and Coventry Streets, and others in that neighbourhood. Many nice, quiet accommodation houses were closed, and several nice gay women whom I frequented disappeared. Indeed, for a time, the police were set on with all their brutality . Women by dozens were taken before magistrates ruthlessly, and altho mostly cautioned and set at liberty, some were imprisoned; and the effect was, that for a short time the streets named, and a few others, were all but cleared of gay women.

Among the women who disappeared was one named Betsy Johnson, a lovely little creature under twenty, and in the perfection of her youth. Just before she disappeared, she said one night to me in her jocular way — “Fucking is done for here except for love, so I shall take to washing for my living.” — She disappeared, and I was now to meet her again some nine or ten years after].

It was in the middle of November, and but about a month only after I had said good bye to Rosa W***e. — I was walking along the Strand, one very nasty, muddy, dank, dark night. The whores were lifting up their petticoats, partly to escape the mud, but more I expect to show their legs, as high as they dare. and I was gazing on them with pleasure, my mind wandering from their legs to their backsides. I passed a female nearly, then stopped — as I seemed to recognise an old carnal acquaintance.

“Why, it’s you Betsy.” — I turned round, and passed into a side street, followed by the female. “I don’t recollect you, yet I know the voice,” said she. —I made myself known. Several years had passed since I had seen her. It was Betsy Johnson, whom I had fucked just after she had turned gay, and at about the time I was in love with Sarah Mavis, and had quarrelled with her.

Betsy was a middle-sized female, but her plumpness and roundness were delicious. Her form was lovely then. She had a delicious skin, as smooth as ivory, fine chestnut hair, the same colour on her cunt hair, of which she hadn’t much. She had two defects. Her eyes were excessively prominent, the clitoris was large, and the nymphae very large. They hung out when first I knew her, and when she was not twenty years old, full half an inch below the outer lips, and for the entire length of the split. I did not like that, yet I used to have her, for she was so beautiful in form, so smooth in skin and fucked so divinely and her cunt fitted me heavenly. She was the wittiest woman of her class I ever met — it was good neat wit — and baudy wit as well at times for she was fond of baudiness — She enjoyed it. She at that time took a fancy to me, but I did not return it — tho I saw her once or so, when I quarrelled with Sarah, as to the best of my recollection I have already narrated.

We went to a house and she stripped. She was as beautifully shaped as ever — but her genital deformity had increased. — The nymphae hung down outside the cunt lips, I am sure one inch and a half along her whole split. — We had a long conversation about it and I told her of women having them cut off, I had read of that being done. — She was immensely interested in that, and also had heard of its being done. — She must muster up courage to have them cut, she said. — Men, she was sure, didn’t like those flaps — tell her, “Did they?” — Since she had been back in London, she could not secure any regular friends, and kept very poor. “These precious nymphae must be the cause, they do not please I expect.”


She was always lascivious. — “Your fucking is delicious, me dear. You still do it well.” — On my preparing to leave. “Why sure, and you’re not going after doing it once, and all these years since I’ve seen you?

— I recollect you, when I had to tell you you had done enough for your money. — Ah, I’m older, but sugar me if you go yet,” — said she, clutching hold of my prick. So we fucked again and again, for I could not resist her. — “You’ll go home straight me dear tonight, won’t you, a fresh cunt won’t make it stand again, till you’ve laid on your back a little, and filled yer belly with grub, me dear.” — “Won’t you see me again?”

“Perhaps.” — “Ah,” said she reflectingly. “You don’t like me, I’ll go back to S***b**ry. I’m not getting on here — whoring is not my game now.” — She was one of those who boldly spoke of whoring for her living — I did not like that. — “Why, it’s what it is, isn’t it?” she had said when I checked her for her plain speaking.

I did see her again, but her large flapping nymphae rather turned my lust off. I wanted to go to her rooms.

— “You can’t, it would horrify you,” said the poor woman. — “You see, I’ve only a gown and chemise on

— it’s all I’ve got, but I must show my legs nice.” — “My legs are my fortune sir,” she said. — She had a lovely leg still, and had silk stockings on, and nice boots, tho almost without under-clothing. “I sleep on the floor on a mattress, there is no bedstead, only a mattress, a table, and a ferry in the room that’s all. I’ve not even a blind me darling.” — She was not Irish, but affected the brogue.

When we were parting, “Can I do anything for you?”

— she asked — what she meant I didn’t exactly know, but chaffingly I replied. — “Yes, Betsy. Get me a nice young cunt without a bit of hair on it— and a man to frig.” “Och, yer baste, is it a young cunt yer wants, – not for Joseph. But I’ll get you a man easy enough if you mean it.” — “I do,” said I — suddenly thinking I should. — “Well, there are plenty of them” — “But in your room.” — “Impossible, you and the sod too, would not stop in it five minutes.” When I told her those wants, I didn’t mean what I said, but at a subsequent meeting she suggested them, and it ended in my arranging to meet her with a man, and we were to go to his rooms together two or three days after, for she had stimulated my curiosity.

I met them in S**o S****e. — He took off his hat respectfully. — “Go ahead, and I’ll follow,” said I, and on they both went. — She then fell back — I was nervous and told her so. “If I go with you and him is all square?” — “It’s all safe, but mind he shan’t touch me, he shan’t fuck me if that’s what you mean — I can’t bear the beasts.” — “All right, go on, I only want to see what a man of this sort is like.” — On the two went, crossed O*f**d St., to a long street, out of which turning up a paved court, he opened with a latch key a door and up we all well went to a first floor over a shop, and into a well furnished sitting-room, and bed-room. As we entered she again fell back, and whispered, — “Mind he don’t touch me.” — “All right, but no plant Betsy, eh?” — “All square, my pet.” — It was a dark night, and I was awfully nervous, but an extraordinary curiosity was on me. I wondered if it was great pleasure to bugger — Betsy had said that men had told her it was.

At last then, the erotic caprice, which I been thinking of at intervals for years, a caprice which had sub-sided, been forgotten, but from time to time been roused by the sights through key holes and peep holes, of couples fucking: a caprice which had got strength, by each succeeding prick I had seen, and specially by the big furnished young man, whom I last saw (poking his wife at Paris) was to be gratified — I had over-come all scruples, and satisfied myself that there was no more harm in feeling another’s prick, than in feeling my own. — There was the man before me, on whom I might satisfy all my curiosity — and yet I began to tremble. — Once indeed on the road I stopped Betsy, and said I should not go home with them — but on her laughing at me, I persevered.

Indeed my heart had palpitated so violently as I followed them, and I felt so afraid of what I was doing, that once I thought of running away — (I have since that time, had a similar fear) — Pride, bravado, and the curiosity of handling another man’s prick, of seeing his emotions in spending, kept me going. — It was nothing but curiosity for I never liked a man even about me. — But to frig one! — Ah! So many years had elapsed since I had done that, that I seemed to have forgotten all about it.

We went into the bed-room together. She stayed in the sitting-room. — “She is better there,” said he. — “Let’s see your prick,” I said as soon as I had a little overcome my tremor. — He pulled it out, it looked small. I touched it with a sort of dislike. — “Are you fond of a bit of brown?” — he asked. — I did not under-stand and he explained. — “We always say a bit of brown among ourselves, and a cunt’s a bit of red.” — I had a feeling of nausea, but went on. — “Let’s frig you.” — He took off all but his shirt, and seating him on my knee I began to frig him. He questioned me whilst doing so — had I been up a man? — “No.” – Then there was no pleasure like it. — I frigged violently but his prick would not stand, I talked baudy and about women. He said “A bit of brown is worth a hundred cunts.” I felt quite disconcerted, for his cock remained small and flabby. I had thought that talking about cunts would stiffen it.

The conversation, then led by him, took an arsehole turn. — He asked me to let him feel my bumhole. — I consented. — In for a penny, in for a pound, I began to think. Taking down my trousers, he looked at my
bum, and his prick stood at the sight. “Is it virgin?” said he, and felt it. — Then, standing by my side, my left arm round his waist to steady me, I frigged him and the little bugger spent but a very little. I rushed to wash my hand.

When he had composed himself, he washed his tool, and became very curious about me, and most energetically felt my prick. — “Put it up me,” — said he. — “I can’t, my prick won’t stand.” — “Shall I suck it?” — “You?” — “Yes.” — “Do you do so?” — “Lord yes, I have had it so thick in my mouth, that I’ve had to pit it out of my teeth with a toothpick.” — I turned sick, but after a time I turned his arse towards me, and got my prick stiff by hard frigging, determined to try what buggery was like. But the moment I put it against his arsehole down it drooped — He was kneeling at the side of the bed. — “Wet it well with your spittle,” said he, wetting his own hole. — It was useless, and I desisted. — “You will presently,” he re-marked. — But tho I tried again and again, determined to know everything, and to do everything once in my life, it was useless.

Then he went to a drawer, and produced a small marble pestle such as chemists use, and asked me to let him put it up my bum, extolling the pleasure I should have. — “It must hurt,” I said. — “Oh dear no, look.” — Going to the side of the bed, he laid down, and cocking up his legs, shoved it up his own arsehole a little way. — That only made me feel more sick, I was so unsophisticated in such matters. I expect he saw that, for he took it out. But then he produced two more of different sizes, one quite a large one, and told me there was a friend he visited every week, who met him in his stables, and he put the larger one up his fundament. — That man said it was not large enough to give him pleasure. “I put it up him to there” said the sodomite marking with his thumb the spot on the pestle. But the description made me feel more modest. — “You should have the small one up first, I will do it for you, and I know such a sweet young man who would suck your prick at the same time if you would like.” — “Oh, no.” — “Do let me sod you,” — said he all at once and quite affectionately, “I should so like to do it to you and take your virginity,” and he shook his prick, and frigged it a little. — It was not stiff, and was very sharp pointed, but not at all a large one.

I was now quite flabbergasted. His coolness and his tale of picking his teeth free of semen, made me actually shudder. — Then the pestels. — Fancy two men together in a stable, one shoving a pestle up the other’s bum. — How curious I thought, yet how abominable — it’s incredible. Yet still I felt curious. — “Does it make him spend” I asked — “His prick stands after I have worked it up and down in the brown for a while, then I go on gently, and suck his prick, till he spends,” — he replied coolly. Again I frigged him curious to see his emotions, and watched his face when with difficulty he spent slightly. — But my cock would not stand. — So I went into the room to Betsy, determined to try her cunt. — She had been, she told me afterwards, looking through, and listening at the door all the time. “Don’t come near me” said she to the sod. — After much ado she made my cock stand, I mounted her, and fucked, feeling his prick whilst I did so — that either suggested itself to me, or he suggested it — and it seemed to increase my pleasure.

Then as I rammed up Betsy’s cunt I became conscious he was feeling me behind, and that his thumb or finger was intruding into my bum hole. — “Feel her brown,” said he. — I was in the height of my pleasure. “You beast,” said Betsy. — Whether I obeyed his ad-vice or not, I can’t say. I spent, and fetched her and then we quickly parted. — I gave him a sovereign, no more, and her two, before each other. — They made no remark. — I promised to see him again but had no intention of doing so, and never did.

I met her soon afterwards, and she was curious. “Did his arsehole seem large?” I was unable to tell her, disliked even to refer to it, yet my curiosity seemed unsatisfied and I had a sort of desire to learn more, yet a dislike to myself for desiring it. — When she asked me if she should get him again, I refused point blank, yet all the time longing to try, and dissatisfied at not having put my prick up him to see if it gave some unknown pleasure or not.

But I spoke to Betsy again about an unfledged virgin cunt. — She shook her head — did not know where to get one — the boys had all the girls when quite young. — Didn’t she know what games boys and girls were up to when quite young. — She had lived at ***** — and there was not there a girl over fourteen who had not had it done to her — and by the boys — boys not men and in the fields, tho sometimes at home. I had heard similar accounts from women years before, and believed her. — “I’ll get you half a dozen little ones without hair, but they all know as much as I do about fucking.” — That offer I declined, for I knew there were plenty like that about the streets, whom I could get without her assistance. — “A virgin, a virgin, and with no hair on her cunt, or nothing.” — Well she would if she could, but she shook her head. — Her last words were “Just a little hair on it you wouldn’t mind, would you?” — “Perhaps if only just shewing, but mind, I’ll have a good look at her cunt, with thighs open, before I have her. No virgin no pay. I won’t be gammoned.” — “All right, me dear, but you’ll have to wait pretty long.”

I met Betsy a little time afterwards by mere chance, and was going to pass her, but somehow she recognised me and touched me on the elbow, saying hastily, — “Come here, come here I’ve been looking for you for a week.” — We turned up a side street. — “Oh if you mean it, I think I’ve got such a nice girl for you, but I shall run a risk.” — We had a long conversation, I gave her money to make presents to the girl, and some for herself, but not much. — “I think she will, but if I can’t get her, I can’t, and then you’ll think I’ve chiselled you.” — “No I shan’t,” and we parted.

I looked for Betsy and a few days after saw her. — “She’s a virgin,” — said she, “but I don’t see my way to it yet.” — “Ah, the old game.” — “Thought you’d say so, you old fox.” — Betsy tried hard to make me go to a house with her but I would not, tho I made her again a little present, and agreed also the price for her services if they were of use. — “I fear I can’t manage it,” said she, “tho she is a randy little bitch, and is longing to know what fucking is like, the boys have felt her cunt and she their pricks — she’s told me so — ah! she is a regular hot-arsed one and you may as well have her whilst she’s got it to give, and you’ll give me the money on the night you have her first?” — “Yes, if she be a virgin, not otherwise, and I’ll see her cunt well before I do her.” — “All right, you old fox she was a virgin last night I’ll take my oath.”

More than a week passed. Then I looked out for and saw Betsy. — I passed her, touched her lightly, said “hish” — and passed on, turning up the next convenient by street. — Betsy followed me and began breathless. — “Oh! It’s such a chance, — I’ve walked up and down here for three nights, and never left the street till midnight, nor left with a man, for fear of missing you.”

“She is a virgin.” — Then she told me that the lass had only the signs of hair on her cunt. — Yes, she had seen her cunt, and had looked at it well. — “Yes — wide — wide — open — and you can scarcely get your little finger up the hole, me dear — it’s just large enough to let her monthlies through — and she’s only had her monthlies twice, — you’ve got a rare chance — and such a plump, fine, little divel, I’d like to do her myself. But give me a sovereign to rig her out you’d like to see her look nice. Honour bright — did I ever deceive you? Oh no, not next week, meet us tomorrow night, don’t lose a night, or you may miss your chance, she has been sleeping with me three nights and I don’t let her out of my sight. She is such a hot-cunted little devil, that God knows what she’ll be up to. — I’ll give her boots and stockings, and say you sent the money for them — and you tell her you’ll give her a silk dress — and a crinoline — don’t forget the crinoline, she is mad for one (they were just in fashion), you’ll be pleased, she is as well shaped as I am. — I’m only frightened they won’t let her in the house, but they know you well there in J***s St., and that’s a good deal. — If they do object you must come to my garret, tho I fear they’d hear us there.” — Thus she talked on energetically, without stopping, and saw her ten pounds almost in her pocket.

Next night was dark and cold, and they met me in L**c**t*r S****e. — The girl looked young and a little object. — Betsy told me to say the girl had been in with me before if they objected. — We entered. The door sounded the warning click. I went in first, feeling a little nervous, and had gone up a few stairs, when the door-woman said, — “She can’t go in Miss, I can’t let her — she is very young.” — “Oh, she’s not young at it — she has been half a dozen times before with me and my friend — hasn’t she sir? —For she is sixteen, tho she looks so young,” said Betsy in a low tone.

“She looks very young,” said the woman hesitating and standing at the door. I turned round. “It’s all right, she’s been in here with me before, why object now?” — “She looks very young,” the woman said again — just then another couple pushed open the street door. — “Go on, go on,” — said the woman — “first floor front,” and up Betsy and the young one came with me. — The door-keeper was anxious to get us out of sight of the couple just entering, they helped to settle the question.

The woman soon followed us into the room, and staring hard at the young one, — “If it’s all right, I’ve nothing to say,” said she. I put a sovereign into her hand. “We shall stop all night.” “Two ladies sir.” I gave her another, shut the door in her face, and bolted it. — Betsy winked at me. “I knew she would if you spoke, and you’ve stumped up handsome.” I had in-deed, and had never been charged for two ladies before in that house.

Betsy had made up the girl in the oddest way with a big bonnet, and she looked almost a bundle of clothes too big for her. — It was an error in the disguise I saw at a glance. — But there we were, all three snugly in the best room in the house. Betsy pulled off her bonnet and shawl as quickly as possible. Then she pulled a great shawl off the little one, and a bonnet big enough for a grenadier, and I saw a lovely girl of about fifteen, looking up earnestly from rather deep-set eyes. — “This is the friend who sent you the boots and stockings, and he’ll give you a lovely crinoline,” said Betsy. — “Won’t you, sir?” — “Yes,” — said I.

I stood staring with delight whilst Betsy undressed both of them in an agitated manner. First she pulled off her own gown — then the girl’s. — Then she stripped herself to her chemise, then the girl. — When the girl was in her chemise, Betsy pulled her slap down on the sofa, and put her hands under charming plump, little breasts — “Ain’t they a pretty pair,” said she — “and, oh! she has such a fat bum and pretty little cunt.” — She lifted the chemise, and the girl pushed it down. — She had never taken her eyes off me, nor I off her. “Don’t, Betsy.” — “Don’t you be a little fool, look here,” — and Betsy throwing up her own chemise rolled back on the sofa threw up her legs, opened her thighs well, and pulled her cunt lips wide open. — “There look at that, me dear — there’s a sight for a stiff prick.” — “Oh! — Oh! Betsy, don’t,”

– said the girl. — “Didn’t we do so last night my dear.” — “Oh, not before a man,” — said the girl, colouring up and trying to pull Betsy’s chemise down.

— “Don’t — for shame.’ — ‘Shan’t — Pough — all my eye, Molly — show him yours.” — “Shan’t — you’re dirty.” — “Didn’t we look at each other’s last night, Molly?” “Not before a man — don’t now, Betsy. — Oh, don’t before him.” — It was said quite naturally.

But Betsy pulled right off her own chemise, turned to the girl, and in a jiffy had pulled hers off also. — There they were, both naked except their boots and stockings. Then with a laugh, she threw herself back on the sofa, and pulled her cunt lips open again — calling on Molly to do the same. The girl timidly looking at me, putting one hand modestly in front of her cunt to hide it, and trying to regain the chemise, which Betsy Johnson had put under her own backside.

I sat down, pulled the little one to me, felt her pretty breasts, her plump round little bum and thighs. She all the time kept her hand in front of her sacred split. I pulled her then on to the sofa, and got my hand between her thighs, talking baudy, and kissing her. — Betsy had got up, and stood naked with her arse to the fire looking at us letting out baudiness, and inciting the young one to comply with my wishes. — Then I pulled off my clothes to my shirt, and showed her my pego, stiff as a poker and like a burning coal. “Oh! There’s a glory,” said Betsy. — “Oh, don’t hide it Molly, I wish it were going up my cunt instead of yours.” — and stooping she kissed it and pulled me towards her by it. — “Kiss it, Molly,” — said she — “kiss it before it goes up you. — Oh! Wow — wow — wow” — and she put my prick in her mouth till it was nearly out of sight. The little one stared. “Oh, ain’t you dirty?” — “Dirty, you little fool — a prick’s nice wherever you put it, nice anyhow, and anywhere. — You’ll think so before a week — you’ll be ready to eat one a week after it’s been up your cunt, Molly.” — “Oh — oh,” and she went on putting it in and out of her mouth, and kissing it down to my testicles.

I sat down again, got the little one on my naked thigh, and put her little fist round my prick. — Betsy keeping up her baudy patter all the time. Then I pulled the little one to me, her legs apart, mine between them, and my pego rubbed between her plump thighs. I grasped her plump little bum, and kissed her, whilst she kept struggling — mildly tho — “Oh, don’t now — oh, Betsy — don’t let him — it’s dirty — don’t” — and so on. Then I got out wine and liqueur which I had brought with me. — There was only a water tumbler in the room and we all three drank out of it. I would not ring for glasses lest the servant should come in, and see the youth of the lass. The liquor was nice to her for she drank freely, became talkative, and laughed. — Up to that time she had, tho tolerably passive under my handlings, looked scared and fixedly at me only uttering, “Oh Betsy, don’t do so — Oh I’m — astonished.” — Now she was more at home. —

I delighted in talking to her — anticipating the de-light to follow. — “You’ve never had any man’s hand between your thighs have you dear?” — “No sir.” “And never put your finger up your cunt?” — “Lord,” said Betsy, “you could not get your finger up it. I tried the other night, didn’t I Molly?” — “No.” — “Oh, you little liar. — I did and I showed her the difference, and told her she couldn’t have any pleasure till her hole was as large as mine, and she put her fingers up mine to feel.” — “Oh — o-oh — o-oh Betsy, I didn’t.” — “You did, you little fool, you got your hand nearly up it.” “Oh, you beast you said you hoped you might be struck dead if you told of me,” — said the young one looking quite aghast. — Betsy laughed. — “I said any girl but not a man it don’t matter to him. — He’s a man and going to make your cunt like mine. — Oh, won’t your little hot arse shake, where his balls are close up to it. — You’ll bless me tomorrow, when you get your new dress and crinoline — and you’ll be asking him to put his prick into you again and again.”

“Let’s look at your cunt Molly,” said I, trying. I threw her on her back on the sofa and knelt down in front. She resisted vigorously. Betsy caught hold of her arms and pulled her back, whilst I pushed her legs wide open — the little pink gash widened, but I could not in the struggle and excitement satisfy my curiosity, so desisted for a while. We then drank and talked more, till my lust made me furious to begin.

What strange whims and caprices I have had with women, and usually quite impromptu. I wonder if other men have suddenly thought of such amusements and tricks. — I now had one. I took some shillings out of my pocket, and sitting down on the floor with my back to the fire, — “Open your legs wide Betsy,” said I, “as you sit on the sofa and I’ll throw shillings at your cunt. Every time I hit between its lips the shilling is yours — if I miss, I’m to have three throws more with it and then it’s yours.” — Betsy screamed with laughter, brought up both heels to the level of her buttocks on the sofa, and spread out her thighs, shewing a wide split, that a half crown could have gone into. I pitched the shillings at her cunt — one on two hit it and she made Molly pick them up. — The girl stood looking at me — then at Betsy, and repeating, “Well, you are dirty,” astonishment in her eyes manner and voice but she picked up the shillings fast enough — and gave them either to me or Betsy as she was told. — At length she laughed and hid her face with her hand. — “Oh, ain’t he one,” said she.

“Let’s throw at yours, my darling,” said I — “Let him” said Betsy “or I shall have all the shillings.” — The girl hollowed refused, resisted, till Betsy lost her temper, so we had more wine. At length, “Now I’m going to look at your cunt.” The wench was now well warmed by wine, baudy conversation, and tricks, yet still there was delay, and she refused. — Betsy said she was not going to be fooled — what she had come to do, she would have to do. — She might go away if she would not. — Go and get a lodging where she could. — “Lay on the steps all night if you like, you shan’t come home with me — and you know,” she said in a significant tone to the girl which I did not then understand. — With a little more persuasion, the naked lass laid on her back on the edge of the bed, her legs hanging down. — It was at the side of the bed away from the gas, Betsy had pushed her on that side of the bed.

For half a minute I gazed at her with delight as she lay with wonderfully large thighs, and legs, and would never have believed her youth, had it not been for the hairless cunt, and youthful face. She was country born she had said, and early used to work in the fields, such work soon develops the form, and hence her beauty but I soon began my investigation into her virginity.