'"Then," said he, "I expect this, these rather, are only padding!"

'"What?" said I.

'"Why! these bub – these – what do you call them? Your bosom, Poll – that is, Lizzie!"

'"Indeed, sir;" said I indignantly, "there is no padding about me. I do not require padding! Not I, indeed!"

'"Oh!" said he, laughing, "but, Poll – that is, Lizzie! – I wish I could remember your name, my pet! No girl of thirteen has such fine, well-developed bubbies as these!" and he pressed them again and again. "They are much too fine for a girl of thirteen! You must be older than you think!"

'"No indeed, sir! I know I am only thirteen!"

'"Well! Then I don't believe these are real! They must be padding, Poll – that is, Lizzie!"

'I was vexed. Why should he be so persistent? Why should he believe that my breasts were not good flesh and blood but only padding? So I said, "If you think I am only made up, sir, please don't feel them any more!"

'"But," said he, "Polly – Lizzie, I don't say that they are not real, the fact is, I don't know what to think. There is a mistake somewhere, but don't be angry, my pet! Come – kiss!"

'Those delicious kisses! Those delightful pressures of his hands!

'"Lizzie, let me put my hand inside your dress!"

And so saying he began to pull at the front of my bodice which was fastened by hooks and eyes. They bothered him and he grew so dreadfully impatient that I, who was quite as anxious that he should be certain that I was not padded as he was to feel my bubbies that he found so nice through my clothes, at last pushed his too eager hands away and undid the obstinate front which opposed him.

'"There!" said I laughing, "you can get your hand in now, but there is still a petticoat inside to unbutton."

'But the petticoat gave him little trouble, and as if he were snatching for a prize which would escape him if he was not very quick, he thrust his strong but gentle hand between my shift and stays, and closed it over the firm little globe he found there.

'"Oh!" he exclaimed, making a kind of sipping noise with his lips as if he were taking something hot to drink, "Oh! Lizzie! Polly! Lizzie! what a splendid little bubbie, and what a smooth little nipple! Let me feel the other one now!"

'And he reversed his hand and pushed it on to my right breast, which he went mad over like he had the other. The effect on him was wonderful. I cannot describe my sensations to you, Charlie, because you, being a man, cannot understand what a girl feels when her breasts are so nicely handled by a man as mine were then, but a kind of all-overish feeling came over me. I felt that I wanted to put my arms around my lover and clasp him to me! It felt that there was something more that I wanted from him; a something which I could only get by pressing my body to him as close, close, as possible, but in the position I was, with his arm raised up and his hand pushing at my bosom, I could not think of folding him in my embrace. All I could do, I did. I put my arm round his neck and pulled his face down to mine, and kissed his mouth with a passionate energy which put him into a still greater ferment. "Undo your collar, Lizzie! Oh! I must see and must kiss those splendid little gems of bubbies."

'Oh! how his voice thrilled through me! I felt as if I trembled all over and his voice trembled also. It was passion, desire, love which had seized both of us. One knew its meaning well! – the other – myself – was still in a state of ignorance very soon to be cleared away.

'I did not hesitate to obey him. I undid my collar, and he, pulling my dress wide open and off my shoulders and bosom, poured a torrent of kisses on my swelling breasts and I – oh! – I leant back, supported by his strong arm, and gave myself and my thrilling bubbies to him to do with as he liked. It was beyond description. How his mouth flew from mount to mount. How his lips climbed each hill, and his teeth seized each little ticklesome nipple in its turn, and his hot breath descended into the valley between my breasts, and swept down over my body until my waistband stopped its further progress. But oh, whilst his lips were so busy, his right hand, in my lap, pressing between my thighs, was producing ravages in another part of my body. I felt inclined at first to resist, not because I did not like it, but because I felt a feeling of shame rise in me, almost stronger than the intense sensation of pleasure his moving fingers gave me.

'"Ah!" said I.

'"What, darling!" How he said that one word, 'darling', as if his soul breathed it from his heart of hearts.

'"Oh! don't put your hand there, sir!"

'"Oh! yes! yes! yes! oh! my delicious Polly Lizzie. What is your name? I must! Oh! Lizzie, I shall not be happy now until I have had you! You know what that means, don't you, darling? Say you will let me have you? Won't you?"

'Well, I didn't know exactly, but I began to guess that love, marriage and the "putting of his big thing into my little thing", as the girls said talking of husbands and wives, were all very intimately connected and the pleasure the proximity of his fingers caused in my melting little cunnie made me think that the "putting" must be something heavenly – and I was right!

'I don't know whether I said "yes" or "no" to his question but he acted as if I had said "yes" anyhow! For he suddenly put his hand under my dress, and before I could say "Scissors!" he had it as high as it could go between my thighs, at the same time pressing me to him and kissing my mouth. My drawers, that came up to the waist in front, offered a slight obstacle, but his eager and nimble fingers found their way in! Oh! the delicious sensation of those fingers as they caressed my cunnie! and the ravishing feel of the one which he pushed in deep between its glad lips. I no longer attempted to prevent his doing what he liked. It was much too delicious. I opened my thighs a little more, and whilst he sucked my mouth with long burning kisses that finger went in and out, every movement giving me more and more exquisite pleasure until at last a throb, a thrill! a kind of jump seemed to pass through cunt, motte, belly and all of me, and my lover exclaimed, "Ah! ah! oh! Lizzie, darling! I have made you spend!"

'Then for a moment he took his hand from between my thighs and I felt him doing something to himself. In a voice shaking with emotion and excitement he said, "Where is your hand, Lizzie? Give me your hand!"

'He took it and put it on what felt like a great big thick stick, thicker than a broom handle, and hot and awfully hard, except for the outside, which felt like velvet, and which was loose and moveable. It was so big that I could hardly get my fingers round it. The very feel of it, however, made my brain whirl round. "What is this?" I gasped.

'"It is me! Lizzie! it's me. It is my – my – my prick! Don't you know, darling, darling, Lizzie – that is what fits in here!" He had his finger moving in my cunnie again, setting me wilder still. "Let me put it in, darling Lizzie! It would kill me if you said no!"

'"Oh!" I gasped, for I could hardly speak, "you can't do it, sir! It is much, much too big!" and as I spoke I felt the curious, soft and elastic head which crowned his powerful weapon.

'For a reply my lover put me off his knee on to the seat, jumped up, undid his braces, pulled down his trousers, pulled up his shirt and I had an astonished glimpse of what looked like an enormous white bar, with a red tip, growing out of a perfect forest of black hair.

'Before I could either speak or resist, my impatient Charles, as he made me call him, pulled up my dress, petticoats and all, and pulled me on his knees, so that I had one leg on either side, then, whilst he drew the lower part of my body towards him, he made me lean back. I had to bend my knees to do so, and stand on the tips of my toes, whilst he was seated on the very edge of the seat. Oh! what a shock of delicious pleasure I received and how astonished I was when I felt that he had pulled me right onto what he called his prick, and that with a little kind of pop it had gone right into my cunt.