Upstairs she ran like a hare, “Pull off all your clothes, — yes, naked.” “No I won't,” — the only objection I ever heard her make. But I stripped her and myself, and in a minute we were both start naked in my bed together. What a delicious cuddle we had on that chilly morning! Then I gratified my eyes, never having seen her naked before. A little reddish hair was just showing in her armpits. A kiss on her pretty little breasts and her red-haired motte, a peep at the ragged, jagged opening of her cunt. I knelt over her, and she kissed my prick, — never before, and she did it with such delight. Then ouf! in tight libidinous naked embrace our genitals coupled. Oh! what a di-vine fuck it was, — luckily with a towel under her back-side, I don't spoil sheets, and give trouble now, — I deluged her cunt. Everything is nice to people in copulation. “Put your hand down darling, and feel my prick in you.” “Oh! isn't it wet!” “Do you like fucking naked in bed?” “Oh! yes, it is nice, — do married people do it naked?”

Then lying coupled, nestling our bellies, talking of fucking, instructing her (half the delight of having a virgin is in instructing her in libidinous acts, and in-stilling into her mind ideals of copulation), kissing, tongue-sucking at intervals. We passed a time. “Can you feel that my prick's getting smaller in your cunt?” “Yes it is.” “Do you like the feel of the spunk in it?” “Oh yes I do” (a question I have put to all my virgins before, but ever fresh it comes). “Feel my prick now it's out. Isn't it small!” “Yes, — I shall try to make it stiff.” “Do love, — let me look at your cunt.” Thighs wide opened I saw the offering my prick had left there. “Would you like to see your cunt now?” “Yes, — but it looks nasty, don't it?” “No dear.” I stiffened. “Look love, look at my prick. — let's fuck before your aunt comes in, — get up, — kneel, — there, that's it,” — and then with her white, smooth, hard backside against my belly as I knelt at the back of, her, I had another glorious fuck in her smooth, sperm-lubricated vulva.

“What am I doing dear?” “Oh! — ah! — a doin it to me — ah” “Say flicking.” “Fuck — hing, — ah! ah!” We are quiet, I am bending over her, hands quiet on her buttocks, motionless all but in the last throbbing of my prick, and the gentle clipping of her cunt round it, as my ejaculation finished.

My prick kept in its channel, her bum close into my belly. What delicious tranquility, and soft baudy dreaming. “Is it nice this way dear?” (the first time I had done it so). “Oh! yes, do married people do it this way ever?” A silence. “How long's aunt been gone? — oh! that's the boy ringing.” “Don't move Loo, — my prick's stiff yet.” A pause. “Oh! I'd bet-ter, — he'll keep on a ringing, — what a nuisance.” “Let him ring.” “Oh! take it out, — he might tell aunt, — and I've got to dress.” Out I pulled it, she dressed (a frock over her chemise). “I shall tell him I fell asleep.” Then she let him in, and again came to me. We kissed, felt each other's genitals. “Don't wash your cunt, Loo, and we'll do it again at breakfast.” Off she went, dressed properly, and lighted the kitchen-fire.

When she brought my breakfast, “I wish we could sleep together.” “So do I,” she replied. “We'd sleep naked.” “Yes,” said she grinning, but we never did. We could not manage a poke till after luncheon, and then did it on the sofa, backside to belly again, because it took so long to make the feather-bed look square, after we had rumpled it. How quickly she rumped up to my prick! — how gloriously she fucked! She was made for fucking, and loved it. I guess that in a year or two, when full-grown, it will take a strong man to do all her carnal work. Her exact age was sixteen years and one month the day I broached her.

We were baulked all the next day, for the aunt at-tended to me, but the next morning went to market. The boy's mother was ill, so Loo told him he might come late, and again in bed naked we strummed. I put her on the top of me. Libidinous devices, played with the young lass, pleased me fifty times as much as with an accomplished courtesan. “Are you coming Loo?” “Y — hes, y — hes,” — our salivas were mingling. “Do married people do it like that?” said she as she lay on the top of me after her spend.

I had every meal at home, and had cooking and things fetched at intervals all day long, to get the aunt out of the way. To my annoyance she said she must get a servant, for it was too much for her. “Why don't you make your niece do more?” “She don't like waiting (all arranged), — the girl's a rare trouble to me, and to her poor father; but I must send her home.” “As you like, but I am not likely to dine at home so much.” No servant was got, — one would have spoiled all, — so I did not lose my lass. Every other morning the aunt was away for about two hours, and did not know the boy came late (he was glad to come late), for the shop was always open before she returned. We lost no time, my prick was in Loo's cunt five minutes after her aunt went out, and generally in it a quarter of an hour before she came back. Between our carnal exercises, she with only a frock on lighted the kitchen-fire, and let the boy in, stripping and getting into bed with me like lightning between those performances. She now kissed and toyed me most lasciviously directly she got into bed.

One morning I lent her a hand-glass, and helped her to inspect her cunt. She contemplated it with great satisfaction. I pointed out to her the edges of the ruptured hymen, — it almost looked like a cock's-comb on each side, she said.

“I wonder if I'm in the family way,” said she one day just after we had fucked, and whilst she was taking away my breakfast things. She had had no symptoms, no sensations that she knew of, but she wondered, — she would know by the following Monday. On Monday she was all right, the redness showed, and for three days she was untouched. Then we resumed our fornication, and for nearly a month more carried on this sweet little game of copulation, and I believe unsuspected excepting by the boy.

It was close to November, all visitors were gone, and I told her then that I must leave, and then for the first time she showed anxiety about her future, and shed tears. But from conversation, though she had now got very close, I firmly believe she had made up her mind to turn strumpet. Her aunt and she quarrelled daily. Aunt was always threatening to send her home, she threatening to run away. I urged her going home, and one morning feeling uneasy about her, I gave her twenty pounds in sovereigns. That set her crying violently (she had never asked me for a farthing). As I could not take her to London (which it was impossible for me to do), perhaps she'd go home. “If you don't go home, stay here, — you're handsome, — you'll get a sweetheart, and marry if you're careful, — he won't find out what you've done.” Only common shop-people spoke to her she remarked with a toss of her head, as if she thought them not good enough.

Two of her monthly periods had passed since I first had her, without signs of pregnancy. I felt quite comfortable about that, and after a heavy day's fucking, and three hicks on the last morning done with great risk, to my astonishment she suddenly cried bitterly, and just before her aunt came home, put her bonnet on, went out, and I never saw her more. The aunt was in a state of anxiety when I left, and so was I, the girl being so peculiar in character. I feared she would come to London, but I never saw her, if she did. The following spring, being about twenty miles from the town, I went there purposely to enquire. As I saw the aunt in the shop I went in, and bought something.

The aunt knew me, smiled, and asked if I were coming to M***g**e again. “Where is your niece?” said I casually. “Oh! gone home — or somewhere.” After a pause, “She gave my poor brother lots of trouble.” I asked one or two fishing questions, but learnt nothing further. I am convinced that she turned gay, and would have done so whether I had had her or not. She was made for much fucking, was ready for it, waiting for it. I believe she often had felt the shop-boy's prick though she denied that. She admitted once having done so, but they were always scuffling.