A minute elapsed, the baudy house-keeper had been spoken to, but the girl not coming, I opened the door to look out. The bigger girl was just inside the outer door, and was pulling in the other one. “Come you foule, — you said you would, — he'll give you money as well as me, and I'll give you some of mine too, — well you are a foule”, quite bawling it out. There was not much secrecy needed in such things at those times, in those streets.
“I don't want her”, said I hurriedly, it's you, — come in, or I won't wait.” She came in, the other girl disappeared, and we were soon in a bed-room together.
It was the first house at that end of the street, had been newly opened, and was furnished in a style not like a baudy house; no show, neat and clean, but cheaply; no bed-hangings (and in those days most baudy houses had bed-hangings), the blinds were new and white, the beds quite clean. The top-floor room where I went for economy was two shillings and sixpence. The woman of the house was tall, comely, and middle-aged. As I paid her I noticed she had fat red cheeks. How curious that I should recollect those red cheeks. She had a white apron on, and was a civil sort of creature.
The girl stood still staring at me. Sitting on the edge of the bed I stared at her, filled with baudy curiosity and the appreciation of novelty. “Why won't you have the other gal?”, said she. “I don't want her, nor want two, — and she is a dirty little imp.” “No she ain't dirty, she washes herself like me, — let her come up.” “No, — come you here.” “She is quite clean,-I wash her myself sometimes.” “No, come here I tell you.”
The girl came to me dawling. I put my hands up her clothes. A fleshy little bum met my hand, then in the front a smooth belly, a motte almost hairless as it seemed. She said not a word, but gave a sort of jerk of her body, and as my hand touched her bum it jutted forwards, and as I drew my hand round to her belly she drew her belly back. It did not seem like shame. She did not utter a word. “Take off your things”, said I.
She drew away from me, and took off her bonnet, then stood still. “Off with your things”, I said throwing off some of mine. “I can't take them off, — if I do I can't fasten them again, they are in a knot.” “Take them off.” “If I do you will have to fasten me.” “So I will.” Slowly she stripped to her chemise. “Take that off.” “I won't.” “Come here then.” She came. Laying hold of her I lifted her bodily, and threw her with her back on the bed, throwing up her chemise and stretching open her legs quickly. She gave a sup-pressed “hoh !” put her hand down to her cunt, and felt her mons nervously.
Take away your hand dear.” She took it away, then I pulled open her little thing. Such a delicious little gap it was, with the smallest possible quantity of golden hair just showing on it; such a smooth white belly and thighs, and all so plump, that I was wonder-struck at a young girl being so round and fine. I had not expected under that shabby black clothing anything so nice. I was charmed with her head also; in a big black and shabby bonnet I had seen nothing but a white face and large blue eyes. Her hair was golden in tone, bright and flowing.
Whilst pulling off my trowsers she sat up and asked, “Is it big?” For the instant I did not quite know what she meant. “What's big?” “Your thing, — measure it.” I went up to her pulling out my pego. “It is big”, said she. “It's little”, said I. “It ain't,-it's big.” “No.” “Yes, — don't push hard sir, — will you now?” “No my dear I won't, — Is it bigger than other men's pricks ?” “I shan't tell you.” “Well lay down and open your thighs”, — again I lifted her on to the bed. “Don't you do it hard”, said she getting up again, “or I won't let you.” “Then I won't pay you.” Back she fell, I wetted my prick, put it to the notch, and with a shove or two was well up her. She gave a “oh, — oooh !” and then laid quiet. Grasping her fat little bum I fucked, then stopping pulled out my prick, and looked at her cunt. “What are you a going to do?” said she in an astonished way.
“Get quite on to the bed dear.” Slow at obeying I helped her into the posture, and got on to her, and brought my pleasure to an end, lying on the top of the pretty little girl.
I lay on her long afterwards, and tried by the muscular contraction of my arse-cheeks and ballock-roots to stiffen my pego again. She laid quiet all the time with my prick up her, but I could not manage it, my prick shrunk.
A second erection without uncunting being impossible, I got into a kneeling posture between her open legs, and checked a slight movement on her part saying, “Now lie quiet, — don't move.” There was I kneeling between her thighs; looking down I saw her half-opened cunt with the gruelly tide issuing from it, took my prick in hand half its potential size, flabby and wet, pulled back the skin, and out rolled a large drop of sperm on to her thigh. She lay quite quiet, looking at me, her yellow hair falling all around her head as it lay on the pillow. Now I was astonished at her beauty, I had not noticed it fully before.
“You are very handsome, — how old are you?” “Fifteen and a little.” “You must be more.” “I don't know, but mother says so.” I looked at her cunt, the hair on it was not an eighth of an inch long,, scarcely any of it, and of course showing no intention of curling, but her form was so round that I could not believe she was so young. “Fifteen and a little”, she repeated, her aunt and her mother had been disputing the day of her birth; her mother was out of her mind when she gave birth to her. “Aunt says I ain't fifteen.”
“Give the other gal a shilling, — do”, she broke in whilst I was questioning her about age, and kneeling between her thighs. “What are you so anxious about the other girl for?” “She lives over us, and is my friend, — will you give her a shilling? — do.” “Why?” “Do, — if you don't I shall give her a shilling of mine, and give her some of mine anyhow, — you said you'd give me three and sixpence, didn't you?”
Curiously amused I laughed. “I'll give you a shilling for her, if you let me do it to you again.” “Oh! do”, said she.
It was hot, I had not reposed after my pleasure, so quitting my kneeling position I laid down besides her, and began feeling her breasts. She turned her head towards me. “You have not washed yourself”, said I after a minute's amusement with her bubbies. “It ain't no good if yer ar going to make a mess in it agin, — when you've done it I'll wash it all out together.” I thought from that speech she was not an old one at the game, yet after all she only behaved as every young girl I have had usually behaved, they have mostly objected to washing their cunts directly after a poke, I think they rarely wash it until requested. There must be some sweet tranquillizing pleasure which a man's sperm gives to a woman's cunt, and makes her undesirous of washing it out. It is only when a woman knows it is good for her health if she be gay, that she ever does it. No married woman washes the sperm out of her cunt, yet in the morning after a night's fucking you never find the sperm if you feel in the cunt for it, — where does it go? — it is absorbed I sup-pose.
We lay thus and talked. “How old are you really?” “Fifteen and two months, as I told yer, — I always was fat, but ain't so fat as I was though, — father used to say I should get fat on gruel.” I should have guessed her full sixteen had it not been for the little hair there was on her motte, and the delicate pink small cut, and tight prick-hole. “How long have you been gay?” “I ain't gay”, said she astonished. “Yes you are.” “No I ain't.” “You let men fuck you, don't you?” “Yes, but I ain't gay.” “What do you call gay?” “Why the gals who come out regular of a night dressed up, and gets their livings by it.” I was amused.
“Don't you?” “No, mother keeps me.” “What is your father?” “Got none, he's dead three months back, —mother works, and keeps us. — she is a charwoman, and goes out on odd jobs.” “Don't you work?” “Not now”, said she in a confused way”, “mother does not want me to, I takes care of the others.” “What others?” “The young ones.” “How many?” “Two, —one's a boy, and one's a gal.” “How old?” “Sister's about six, and brother's nearly eight, — but what do you ask me all this for?” “Only for amusement, — then you are in mourning for your father?” “Yes, it's shabby, ain't it? — I wish I could have nice clothes, I've got nice boots, — ain't they?” — cocking up one leg, “a lady gived em me when father died, — they are my best.”