When she was a little drunk only, she got spoony, and I could not get away from her, she would lay hold of my prick, and keep to it. “I can't do it again Kate.” “Get on me, and I'll make you”; and she usually did. Then as liquor overtook her she ceased to wash her cunt after fucking, would turn on her side, and go to sleep. I left her often snoring with her cunt full, the money on the table.
It always was a wonder that she kept such a beautiful skin and look, but she did; and always was cool, fresh, and healthy-looking, even if she had been drunk for twenty-four hours previoulsy. Her breath and body were as sweet as milk, yet she never had a bath as far as I know, but performed all her ablutions in a little basin, throwing the water into the street when she had done with it. I have seen her wash from head to foot that way in a quart of water, and a wet rag, and when done she looked like ivory.
She was called Irish Kate, why? — I never knew, nor did she. She was not Irish.
I had words with her one day, having lost a diamond pin. She had been pulling me about that night, but the same night I had been into a house with two women, and had felt their quims. I offered more than the value of the pin, but never got it back. After that I did not go near her again for a long time, but at length so longed for her that I did. She cried with joy, and kept me fucking till my back was well nigh broken.
Then I was for some time out of England. On my return, burning with desire, I went one night to her house. She had died of cholera, which was then raging.
Chapter XVIII
Costermongers children. • A small girl, mother, and mangie. • A French letter fetched. • Young Gallows' exploits. • The customers' linen. • A hard-fleshed bum. • Invitation to anus. • A strange letch. • One big with child. • Fucked for a sovereign and pleasure. • A creole. • My misery. • Reflections.
Close by Kate's was a street with a carriage way, at one end narrowing to a footway only. On one side a row of small houses, on the other a very high blank wall. Costermongers' barrows and carts stood in the carriage way at night; clothes-lines with ragged garments hung across the street in the day. One dark night prowling about, cunt-feeling young girls and baudying generally, I went up this street. I had been up it before, and loved to hear the boys and girls chivying each other among the carts, hinting baudiness as they caught the girls, and kissed them, the girls squealing when liberties were taken with them. Occasionally standing in the shadow of the carts, I listened whilst a man would stealthily go up against the blank wall, a woman follow him. I would stand feeling my prick till I saw them come away (in two or three minutes usually), and rush into Mary Davis' or Kate's to get a relief for my excited ballocks. There was but a feeblish light in the street, and in one part of it none.
As I passed I saw a small girl standing inside the door of a house, and thought I would like the little one. Sometimes I wanted the biggest woman I could get, sometimes the smallest. She took no notice of me, I repassed, and there she still stood. “Is she gay?” I wondered, “she does not look it.” Lots of girls and women not gay stood in a similar manner in those streets. Again I passed, and stopped. “Will you let me come in, and give you a kiss?” “Yes sir”, said she stepping back.
I stepped in after her, one or two steps down. The room was below, and entered direct from the street. A miserable place; on one side a mangle, on another a poor dirty bed, a tile floor, dirty walls, wooden furniture, all miserable. Had I known, I should have been horrified at entering such a hole, but in my lust I thought of nothing but the young girl, of the probable hairless cunt, of her little bum, her smallness and freshness. She looked fifteen years of age, and was quite short.
She closed the door, and looked. I looked at her. “I'll give you five shillings.” “All right sir.” “Let me look at your quim.” “All right sir”, said she getting on the bed. I pulled up her clothes, and saw the little thighs, and the little cunt with a very small quantity of lightish brown hair on it. How tight it was to my finger ! I took the guttering candle. “I'd like to fuck, but am frightened,-let me look well at your cunt.” “I'm all right”, said she putting her fingers down, and stretching open the lips, “quite clean indeed sir.” “When were you fucked last?” “It must be a week.” “Arn't you every night?” “I don't get the chance”, still laying on her back, and stretching her cunt-lips open, “I only go to the door quite late, when the neighbours have gone in, cause they ain't gay close here.” The house was the last in the street where it narrowed to a footway.
I raised her up, laid her lengthways on the bed, and put my pego into her hand, but fear came over me, and it would not stand. “I must do it to you, but play with it a little.” She laid hold of my prick. “It's not stiff.” “No my dear, frig it.” She began. “Do you like feeling a prick?” “I likes feeling men's things”, she replied, “they are such funny things, first little, then big, then little again.”
“How old are you?” “Over fifteen, mother says.” “Where is your mother?” “In the back room,-look it's getting bigger, I did not think it would be so big, —don't hurt me with your nail sir please”, said she frigging away clumsily, and when it was stiff leaving off, but looking earnestly at my pego. I kept probing her cunt with my fingers, wondering at its smallness.
A desire came to make her youthful mouth utter baudiness. “Say cunt dear.” “Cunt.” “Say fuck.” “Fuck.” “You know what fucking is?” “Putting that into this”, said she with a chuckle, “ain't you going to do it?-I'm quite clean.” “Let me look again.” Again the little hand down, and stretched the lips. I prepared for action, again fear seized me, and down my doodle drooped. “No dear, lay still, and I'll frig myself over you,-turn on your belly,-let me see your bum, — there that will do.” I put some spittle on her bum, and rubbed my prick against it, but longed for the hole between her thighs. “Have you got a French letter?” “I'll ask mother”, said she going into the adjoining room. In came a woman of middle age suckling a baby. “She will fetch one, give her the money, — make haste now, — never mind your bonnet, — run, — run. She won't be long”, said the woman to me.
“Your daughter?” I said to the woman who stood suckling her baby, and staring at me. “Yes sir.” The baby took to howling. Swinging it about to quiet it, she went on in a whining tone, “We are so poor, we are almost starved, we are, — what was I to do for a living? — I've nearly lost all since my husband's left me, and can't afford to keep a big gal She that; if she will go wrong I can't help it, I can't send her out, — I catched her with a young Gallows, and the mischief were done, it were, I knowed it, and I knowed it would be, so I did, — I could not keep her in, and the chap were allus arter her,-she must live, and she's better at home doing that, than doing it away from me”,-and much of the same sort in a whining, apologetic tone without stopping, without my asking.
“Has she been gay long?” “Bless you sir, it ain't more nor two months since I catched her with young Gallows,-he is in qued, — serve him right; but he'll be after her agin when he is out, he will.” “Where is your husband ?” “Oh! the vagabond's gone off with a hussey, and left me with three children, — this here's the last. Drat you”, said she shaking the infant which would not leave off howling. “Oh ! here she is.” The girl entered the house with the cundum, and the mother and baby disappeared.
The affair was not enticing, my cock was flabby again, but the little wench's naked belly stirred and stiffened me. I prepared the letter. “Did you ever see one before?” “Yes a gent had one here one night, but he did not put his thing into it.” “What did he do then?” “He blew it out, and popped it off”, said the girl. “Oh ! you wet it,-let me see how you do it, — does it not feel cold? — it's a nasty thing. Indeed I'm all right, — gals has diseases from doing it I know, but I ain't, — look”,-and again the girl distended her cunt-lips without any modesty or affectation.