Then I had a full inspection of her charms, and as I expressed admiration she seemed delighted. She let me bring candles closer to see, and she had all to be proud of. She was a tall, stout woman, with a good looking face, half German in type, fine limbed, and with white flesh, her hair was dark, the thatch of her cunt was large in quantity, and thick and curly. — I have never seen more hair on a woman. It went straight across her belly, half way to her navel, it lay thick and curly down the lips, filling the cavity between the cunt and the thighs. Since my adventure at the railway station, I have rarely looked lower in a woman, but my dislike to the frowsy regions seemed to have left me now, and I looked curiously at her bum-hole, and found it surrounded with thick, short, dark hair, crisp, and curly, which went right round the cunt and joined the arsehole edging.
Holding the lips apart I found that the prick hole looked no larger than that of any full sized matured woman. — Why I expected to find it larger I can't say, but I had. — I put one, two, then three fingers up it, and believe I might have put more. It distended easily, yet the cunt clung to my fingers and tightly. — In her armpits was not so much hair. — “Turn over, love, and let me see those lovely buttocks.” She did, and pulling them with difficulty apart, — I saw dark hair from her bum hole to her bum bone. “Are you satisfied?” said she, as I kissed the white marbly flesh. “Yes you are lovely, exquisite,” and I laid by the side of her on, alas, too narrow a bed, and we talked till nature made us join our genitals again.
“How old am I?” said she in a conceited manner, when in the preludes of a fuck our hands were employed on each other's privates. — “Thirty-three,” said I, wishing to please her. “That's my age exactly.” —Aye, I thought, and seven years on to that. I am sure she was forty, tho in splendid condition. I mentally compared her with Mavis, Fisher, Pender, Mrs. O*b***e, and a dozen big women, some of whom I know were thirty-five, — and from face, form, cuntal indications, and others between the bum bone and navel, am sure she was forty. — But I have rarely had a finer night's amusement than I had with her, and I fucked her every hour until six in the morning. We were then both fucked out.
There was the difficulty in getting away — for half an hour was I peeping for an opportunity. — At last the coast was clear, the servants had gone off in various directions — out I stepped, and as she closed the door behind me, out stepped from a bedroom opposite, the chambermaid. — She gave an astonished look then turned her head. — I left L***s that night, and never told my middle aged beauty that the chambermaid had seen me leaving the bedroom, thinking it could not be helped and would only make her uncomfortable.
I am beginning to judge of the age of women by the look of their cunts and buttocks. — Age is indicated there, as much as by face and breasts. The growth of hair on the motte, and the state and color of the bum cheeks, valley, declare almost unmistakably when a woman has turned thirty, I think I might bet on it.
After this adventure with the American family, I went straight to Paris. There I had a half dozen women perhaps, at the Rue des M**l**s — but certainly not more, for my stay was limited to a few days — and came on then to England. If I had women on my return I have no memoranda about them — and am under the impression that I had one of the short fits of virtuous abstinence which occasionally overtake me, and to which I attribute having kept my health so well, amidst so much fucking. Then, two or three little lasses fell to my prick, in the most unexpected, exciting, and delightful way— but this result was no doubt owing to a predilection which had been growing on me. — It is by setting one's mind steadily on the object, that so many chances have been found and utilized by me — but how comes it that letches for this and that seem at times to seize me suddenly?
I have often thought since of Aunt W***t*r and her delicious cunt, and recollect that several middle aged women seem to have had the most perfect voluptuous cuntal grip of my prick, spite of the seeming capaciousness of their vaginas. Is it that their cunts grow fat inside, as they increase in flesh generally? — Certainly I recollect many young women, whose small, inviting looking orifices felt loose enough inside, and never gave me so much pleasure.
Aunt W***t*r was by nature lascivious. It pleased her to bathe knowing that I was looking at her, and her niece as well, — “Your seeing her won't do Amy any harm,” said she laughing. I fancy they were a hot cunted family, but the demeanour of all the ladies was irreproachable, but the indifference with which an aunt and niece exposed themselves naked to each other astonished me, and their lax notions about fucking, which the conversation between the aunt and niece disclosed, astonished me more.
Chapter XVI
A letch for juveniles. • On big and little cunts. • In L**c**t*r S****e. • Polly Carter, the young box-maker. • The brothel. • “Show us yer thing.” • Willing for half a crown. • Free, easy, and lewed. • My quick spend. • Her disappointed cunt. • Re-medial frig. • Hot cunted. • Her occupation and habits. • Of female boxmakers. • A father eluded. • Jemima Smith. • A chance virginity. • I personate a doctor. • Split up and spit up. • A friend's experiences. • Who first fucks poor girls. • Jemima on boxmakers' morals. • A mother dodged. • A cheated gin bottle.
I have now great knowledge of the full grown, full cunted, thoroughly developed woman, my taste has mainly run in their direction, but recently I thought of the younger ones, and that I should like to try those less practised in the art of love, those with forms immature, with smaller and unfledged cunts, and with less cunning and experience in the ways of men, and with a curiosity to satisfy about the male. — For all that, I continued my attentions to the more matured females, and the nascent letch for a juvenile split went into abeyance.
Again the letch for a youthful cunt came on strongly. The idea of seeing a little delicate unfledged slit between two little thighs, instead of the bushy haired, five inch, fat lipped gaps, began to give me a fever of anticipation. I hesitated still a while in procuring my-self that voluptuous satisfaction. Why I can not say, but I have been subject to lustful vagaries, hesitations, diffidence and timidity, as well as rash impulses in love affairs, which I cannot account for. So irrational and contradictory at times have they been, that I have been astonished at myself, so will not seek reasons for my hesitation at this time. Moreover my numerous Paphian friends have at times told me of similar male eccentricities, so that I come to the conclusion that many men are as absurd in their behaviour. But chance brought my letch to the front, and to accomplishment.
One night towards the end of November in L**c**t*r S***e., I accosted a lass who looked between fifteen and sixteen years old. She was walking very fast, and I was not quite sure whether she was on the town or not, but know that girls out by themselves at that time at night more frequently than otherwise get their cunts filled for love or money, before they get home.
“Come with me,” I said walking by the side of her. She slackened pace, but did not reply. I repeated it, she stopped, hesitated, looked at me and replied, “I can't stop long.” “You shan't, but come.” In three minutes we were in a house new to me, but actually at the angle of L**c**t*r S***e, tho with a side door. — (Now covered with a fine building.)
I saw directly we were in the bedroom, that she was a work girl. — “I can't undress, it'll take me such a time to get em on agin.” “Yes you must.” “Just help us then, it's in a knot behind.” — Off her clothes went hurriedly. She was poorly dressed, and not too clean, I had not expected anything else. “I'll take off my boots cos they'll muddy the bed,” said she in a gossiping manner, and was soon on the bed in a dirty chemise only, and was a fairly good looking, dark eyed and very dark haired girl. I threw up her chemise and saw a cunt quite girlish in appearance, with a little bush of short, dark hair, about as much as would cover a half crown, surrounding the top of her split and dying away altogether a little way down the lips, which were fattish and pudgy. Whilst standing and looking at it (her thighs obligingly open without my asking), “Show us yer thing,” said she. On producing it, she sat up and felt it earnestly, in quite a simple way, as if it pleased her. “Pull the skin off.” I did and she chuckled. — “Ain't it red?” “Do you want it?” “Shan't tell yer; do it sir,” and she fell back laughing. Her manner was funny, lewed, but very natural, and not a bit like a harlot's. — “When were you last done?” “My last overtime night, a week ago.” “Are you quite well?” I asked touching her cunt. “Oh I arn't got no illness, yer may see for yerself, sir.”