Seeing her less, I had Camille once or twice; but ready for any opportunity, I soon picked up a plump servant out of place, and had her at intervals, and at one time I had three women on hand, at this period.

One thoroughly dark, dry, night, going across a park soon after darkness had set in, a woman accosted me. — I adjourned to beneath a large tree and felt her cunt. “Fetch that girl,” said I, as another woman passed near me. She did and I felt her, and then a couple more, at a shilling a feel. I could not see who, or what they were like, but found them coarse and common. — I was that night a little in wine and thrilling with lust. “Your cunt's not clean,” said I to one. “I've just been fucked,” said she. “Where do you hick?” asked I, in perfect ignorance. “Any where — on the chairs — on the grass, or against the trees, or the hurdles. — Look, there is a couple fucking there.” — I looked and in the dim light saw by a tree a man sitting on a chair, and a woman in a sitting posture moving up and down on him; looking on the other side I could see a couple standing up at work. No, the policemen never came, they were away from the road why should policemen interfere, said the two park whores.

“Let me fuck you,” said one. — I declined tho well nigh bursting — fearing disease in such poor creatures whom I thought could have but the commonest men. The couple fucking on my right moved away, and the place was taken immediately by others. “There is plenty of fucking to night,” said the woman who now remained by me, hoping I suppose I should have her. — “I should like to see them doing it closer.” — “Come up to the tree then, they won't mind, stand back a minute, directly he's got his prick up her — he won't notice anything, and we'll go close.”

We walked rapidly to the rear, then up to the back of the tree, seeing clearer and clearer and the woman moving up and down as if pumping. As we got close she ceased, and the man went off almost at a run. — “They have been quick, she's got a cunt full I'll bet,” said my woman. — “Has he fucked you Polly?” “Rather,” the woman replied.

Baudy wishes all in conflict, all in tumult rushed thro me. I scarcely knew what I wanted or did, “Let me feel your wet cunt,” said I, and the next moment my hand was on it. It was like a paste pot (my old simile, and I know no better) and half way down her thighs was the same. Astonished at the quantity and feel, “He has spent a lot,” said I. “He's a Scotchman,” said she, “they always spend a lot and quick, they doesn't do it to a gal till they can't keep it in their balls no longer,” said my woman. “And then wants it for nothing,” said the other. “Yes they always wants it for nothing,” echoed my woman, “cheap suits 'em, but they ain't long about it.” I groped and groped, — till the spunk, by my feeling it drying up, almost glued my fingers to her cunt. — “Damned if you aren't made me hot, messing me about, fuck me.” “No — no, I can't,” but I buried al-most my whole hand in her cunt, thinking of the man fucking, and almost out of my senses with lust. Then suddenly reflecting, I withdrew my hand, wiped it on her chemise, gave them both silver and moved off rapidly, surprised and disgusted with myself, spitting on my hand and rubbing it hard then with my handkerchief; and at length on the grass where no one would see me, pissing over my hand to purify it.

Getting nearly across the park, and in sight of the entrance, my lust suddenly returned and I thought I should like to see more. The continual sight of coition going on had affected me lewedly, and with all my knowledge of London and experience of life, I had never before known of such amorous games being played nightly in the open, by many hundreds; so I walked back nearly to the same spot, and watched couple after couple go and fuck in the dim distance, and largely verified what the park whore had told me about the vast amount of nightly copulation there. She said a thousand fucked nightly.

Then with prick painfully rigid, and almost with an aching in my testicles, inciting me to ease them I walked away. It was not about a quarter to ten, and I had not gone far before I met a shortish girl who seemed one of the host of Paphians. For some reason, I know not what, I fancied and accosted her, and made her an offer to feel her cunt. She moved away from me. — “No,” she wouldn't. — I laid hold of her arm, for her refusal stimulated my lust — “Let me feel your cunt and I'll give you ****.” “No I won't go that way, my sister's there, and I don't want her to catch me.”

We went then across the grass, across walks, and by some hurdles, a long, long, way where it was quite solitude, dark, and close to a plantation; and I felt there the girl's cunt, which was tight, and had but little hair on it — and I knew she was quite young by that, tho I scarcely seen her face; and whilst feeling I questioned her.

She was sixteen, her sister was gay, was in the park every night, and she wanted “to see about,” like her. — But her sister had driven her back home, and hit her, and told her mother. She had as much right as her sister to be in the park. — She liked to be there “and watch the couples doing it.” — She'd never had it done to her in the park, excepting by her young man who had done it to her for now a month, but he didn't give her anything for it. She worked at envelope folding, and was tired of that.

Feeling her tight little cunt and the little hair on her motte, and noticing her manner, I believed mainly what she said, and do now, credulous as I am about women's tales of themselves. — I frigged her — and talked about the couples fucking. — Desisting — “Go on rubbing me,” said she. — “Let's fuck you,” said I (all prudence gone), “on the grass, it's quite dry.” — Down she laid at once, and in one of the tightest little cunts I ever had, and in a short time, and with exquisite delight, I spent my spermatic juices, — and she spent with. “Do you like fucking?” said I. “I love fucking, and why shouldn't I do it like my sister, and get money like her, she's always telling me about it.” Her naivete was charming.

Still lustful, — charmed with the oddity and novelty of the night's excitement, and standing up, I felt the tightness of her vagina even with my lubrication, and gave her my prick to feel. — We scarcely spoke, — each was intent only on stimulating the other. — Then came the old idea into my head. — “Is my prick bigger than your young man's?” “Oh much bigger, and longer, — but he isn't older than I am, not quite as old, he aren't sixteen — and he aren't much taller than me, — Oh! — isn't it getting big again.” “Lie down.” — Down she went like a shot, and my prick felt as tightly enclosed in her cunt as if it had been grasped by a fist, and we soon spent again. How the little lass enjoyed it there was no sham.

The last drop of my sperm had barely jetted up her cunt, when — “Oh there's some one dead” — and a slight shriek of a female roused us. — We got up. — A man laughed. “It's a couple at it,” said he, and a tall woman and a soldier in red (that I could see) passed us. Her petticoats rubbed against me and a foot nearer and she would have trodden on us. — They passed out of sight in an instant. — “They are going to fuck,” said I. — “Yes — I likes to see them doing it,” said my companion. When Peg's gone, I comes into the park and watches them sometimes, and sometimes my young man comes, and we watches together — and then he does it to me, but he lives two miles off, and can't always get away.

I gave her a lot of silver, which overwhelmed her, but I didn't leave, for talking to her had a singular charm for me. — She told me all about the couples in the park. Where and how they copulated, and the price paid, — Her sister, said she, told her everything, yet wanted seemingly to prevent her from practising the art of sperm drawing. — The small price accepted for their favours, — and the number of men that a woman sometimes had nightly — was a revelation to me, and I did not quite believe it. I do now for I have heard much since.