I had her a night or two after, and then satisfied by a more careful look, that which I had fancied by fingering and fucking her before, that the opening of her vagina, or mouth of the prick tube, was very small, and that immediately the mouth was passed, it grew if anything larger than it usually is in women. As I fucked, I found that sensation of undue capacity even round my prick. At a future day, I noticed this particularly at the second poke, if she had not washed my sperm out. It was the smallness, and the shape of this opening of the vagina, which helped to make her cunt look so pretty. She told me it had been noticed by most of her friends, and she seemed very proud of it, for when I looked at her cunt as I always did before entering it, “Isn't it small?” she used frequently to say in a gratified tone. I once before had a woman who was proud of her smallness there. I never told Amelia that her cunt inside was extra sized. I never do anything which may vex or wound a woman I like, or cause her to think I am not quite satisfied with her charms. I have known many women much offended by remarks of mine about their person, remarks made quite innocently by me. Many gay women are as proud of their cunts as they are of their faces.

She was a voluptuous creature, and enjoyed my embraces much. I had ample signs of that and am not deceiving myself. She was not a talkative person either, and had a soft voice which I like. We used to pass much time when together, in billing and cooing, as it may be termed: for once on her bed, our mouths joined and our tongues set to work, and we did nothing else for a long while. We licked each others teeth, wetted copiously our lips with saliva, and rubbed them together till they dried, every now and then just protruding the tips of our tongues and all as silently as possible. — “You've a lovely mouth, Mealy.” — “And so have you, and the sweetest breath.” This was repeated often enough, just as if both were spooning. I don't usually take the wet mouth of women of her class, or of any woman, unless I like the look of their mouths; tho wet kissing of that sort, I love intensely now, and it is most exciting to me, and makes my cock stand without handling it.

She was skilled also in prolonging our sexual enjoyments. “Lay quiet in me, dear” — this was often said when my prick was up her, and quiet I used to lay as long as my prick let me, but it was an imperious organ. “Oh, don't move it,” she would murmur thro our wet lips and tongues, when voluptuously slabbering each other. Then when she spent, the pupils of her eyes disappeared, the white only could be seen, her mouth opened quite wide, and she breathed short, and hard, for a second or two. But before the spend had quite finished, her liquid lips were joined to mine again, giving subtle enjoyment, till the luscious enervation came on. In fact she was gifted by nature with the art of love, and loved the art, tho she never seemed baudy, nor talked it. Then I began to take to her, then resisted myself — no more affection for me if I can help it.

She had a nice ten-roomed house, well furnished. I found after a week, that she inhabited it all herself, and there was no lodger in it. Then I found that her rent was paid by Captain * * * * * of the * * * Infantry, the son of a Baronet and his heir. He was very fond of her, and came up to see her as often as he could. At the time I speak of, he was at Aldershot. This information was given me one day, when I said I was going to call on her. She begged me not as she would be engaged for a week. On other occasions that also occurred and then she told me further why. I saw, after I was better acquainted with her, his photograph, and also of that of his father's house. At a later date she shewed me photos of his sisters. All were taken by the same man in the country. (Photography then was not in its present state of perfection.) He promised he would marry her, she told me. I have a faculty in getting the confidences of gay women, and without soliciting it. — How many have asked my advice in their troubles, and in the belief that they have no true friend in their own sex.

She had at that time living with her, a woman whom she called her house-keeper and companion. A fine, well grown woman, about twenty-eight or thirty years old seemingly, and in tone and manner, quite superior to what is usually found in the house of a gay woman. In fact a gentle-woman. This very much astonished me. In bed with Amelia one night, after a champagne supper, and we had fucked once, talking about the house-keeper, she told me that she had been a governess, but had lost her position, and had had a child. Her manners indeed were quite those of a lady. When I called she placed a chair for me, and left the room in quite a different manner from a servant.

I did not always tell Amelia when I should be with her, but took my chance, calling sometimes even in the morning, but mostly in the afternoon or evening. Some-times I waited an hour or two for her, if she happened to be out, or engaged. I don't recollect her being with a man at home when I called, more than once, and think that two or three men mainly supported her. She told me one night that a married man was very good to her.

I had known her somewhere about two months, when one evening now quite late in the autumn I called. She was out and would not be in for an hour or two, would I call again. I preferred waiting. The companion who had opened the door to me saying that both servants were out (as was at times the case), was leaving the room. It was cold and there was a fire in the parlor, and thinking of her comfort only I said, “You can stay, unless you have a fire in the drawing-room.” — No, there was no fire, but she could go to the kitchen. At my request she stayed in the parlor. We began talking, and I thought she looked very nice. She was a dark eyed, dark haired woman, tallish like her mistress, and was dressed nicely in a quiet colored silk. I began whilst conversing, to think over what had been told me about her having had a child. I wondered whether she was fucked by any one now, and arrived at the conclusion, that a fine woman like her in the prime of life, would not go without conjunction with the male, whatever might be said about her chastity to the contrary. No cunt can refuse a prick when once it has had it. Amelia had said, she was sure she was quite steady, having had enough of men, and being disgusted with him whose cock had produced her child, brought her to grief, and neglected her afterwards. How could a gay woman believe that?

I got lewed. “Sit nearer the fire, it's cold out there.” She drew near it, and so did I. Something in her movement brought the easy swing of the haunches of her mistress to my mind. I had been longing to talk about love matters, but didn't know how to begin, had one of those stupid ignorant ideas about its not being fair, that her mistress would be told and mischief made, and so on, as if I had not as much right to poke the maid, as the mistress. But I was fondish of Amelia. This movement of her companion's haunches destroyed all such thoughts, and I burst out, — “Your bum moves just like your mistress' ” (tho it was not a bit like it). “Does it?” said she, laughing. — “Yes, and I expect it's the same size.” — “There's not much difference when we are both naked.” “Really? I should like to see.” — She never replied, but shook her head, laughing quietly all the while to herself.

I drew close to the tender and put my feet on it — “Put your feet up, Mrs. A*t*n (She was spoken of always as Mrs.). — She did. — “Lift your clothes and give it a warm.” — “I'm warm enough.” — “I'm too hot,” said I, adjusting my prick in my trowsers, for it was stiffening, and could not rise up owing to my drawers, and I pulled it about outside my trowsers, in such manner that she must have known the reason, for she laughed, then stopped herself and looked demure. But I'd made her want to open her thighs I was sure, lust is so contagious, words raise ideas, ideas heat cock and cunt quickly.