Without any sexual desires as far as I know, and certainly without any sexual intentions, I sat looking at her pretty face, and particularly at her mouth, which was unusually small, and with little handsome fat lips; lips which make me want to kiss them whenever I see them. — After awhile looking — I wondered if her cunt had thick lips. — I know the idea of their being fat on account of those of her mouth being so was absurd; and that a small mouth does not imply a small cunt, nor thick lips above, mean thick lips below; but there is no accounting for the association of ideas, however absurd they may be. Then I felt suddenly a desire to see her cunt and to fuck it, and sat thinking about its size, its hair, and its looks, whilst I talked to her and looked in her eyes, and her mouth. Then my cock tingled with lust, then swelled, then stood erect and hard for an instant, and just then she turned to some one who came in, to serve him.

Whilst she did so I shut my eyes, violent lewedness seized me, and I fancied my sperm was spurting into her — I had all the pleasure of imagination, without the physical reality. — I saw a lovely little fat lipped cunt, with a little bush around it, and fancied I saw the vol- uptuous pleasure in her eyes as my prick gradually entered. — Ah! what exquisite joint sensation of mind and body, experienced as the glans is first pressed by the cunt and feels its road. — No doubt the female experiences similar thoughts as her cunt feels the distention by the smooth prick tip, and she knows it will search it to its innermost depths.

Said I to her, “I've been dreaming awake about you, whilst you were serving those people.” — “What was your dream?” — “It would make you blush if I told you.” — “Then don't tell it.” — Then I began wondering if she were virgin or not, and half thought not, for I saw a young man attempting to kiss her as I entered the shop soon after, and thought it improbable that a mere shop girl, serving well dressed men and gentle-men both young and old, could have so long kept her cunt to herself, under the temptations which I fancied she must be subject to there. I began to long for her, tho I was fucking * * * * * * about that time, and varying her pleasures with Paphians both English and French, and a big German woman as well, tho I soon had done with her.

I came to the conclusion at last that she was no more virtuous than she should be, and that I might as well be one of the happy ones. Yet I didn't approach the subject till one day, seeing another fellow kiss her, I said, “Hulloh, Miss Bertha, I'll tell Mrs. C*h*n.” — The same young man I had talked with one or two days before was eating strawberries and laughed with me. “We all kiss you, don't we Bertha?” said he. — “No, don't you tell stories about me to that gentleman, I let some of you, and Mrs. C*h*n knows it, I shouldn't be here long if I made a fuss about every thing that's said to me. Miss *** was turned off because she did, and you lost her her place.” Then she turned to a customer who entered. — I remarked to the man that I supposed she was pretty intimate with some fellow. “I expect so, and plenty have tried.” Then, nodding to me, he left.

Directly afterwards she told me not to believe what that man said, he was a nuisance and was always annoying her, but was such a good customer that she didn't like to offend him. — “He wants to get to bed with you, Bertha.” — “He's like a good many more then, but they'll be disappointed,” said she, looking me in the face and not all abashed. — “Don't disappoint me or I'll hang myself.” — “The sooner you do it the better.” — This coolness astonished me. I didn't think about what a hardening moral process incessant amatory chaff is; how soon a young maiden learns to return it, and how pleasant veiled allusions to marriage, to the pleasure in having company in bed, and other indirect allusions to fucking, are, — how they keep the mind and body in a slight state of voluptuousness, particularly pleasing to a woman, who feels, among other things, complimented by the allusions being made to her; for a woman always feels pleased at a man's desiring to possess her.

Then I was sitting on a little stool in the shop one day, and she told me a lot about the business and her-self. — She lived with an aunt, and nightly went home by herself. Their business was generally over by eight o'clock, sometimes they kept open till ten, if the weather was bad for keeping fruit. — “Come and sup with me, and say you've been late at shop.” — “No thank you, I know what you mean by that.”

Another day I took her the last of my Neapolitan brooches. — She was delighted. Soon after she had to stand upon a stool to reach something down, and I risked putting my hand up her petticoats. “That's not fair,” said she angrily, getting down. — “I didn't expect that of you.” — “I'm mad for you, dying for you, I'll not leave you alone till I've had you.” — “I've heard that said many times.” — “Good bye, I shan't come again.” — “Why.” — “Because you won't let me.” — “Good bye, don't be foolish, I should be sorry if you don't come, you talk nicer than most of those who come here, but I know all your little games. — There's a middle aged man comes here, who's had the impudence to offer to keep me, and give me five hundred a year; and I've seen his wife and his children here with him — a blackguard.”

Thought I, she's a little out of the common, but if she's not been already fucked, she will be soon. I went there less often, then was away from town. — When I returned she wondered why I hadn't been. — “Because you won't come and dine with me.” — “It will be no good to you if I do” — again I put my hands on to her ankles, and she seemed less angry — I did it another day, but couldn't get to her garters, she was too quick for me.

“If any one comes in and catches you trying that on, you'll lose me my place; kissing doesn't matter, but improper things do.” — “Come to dinner with me then.” — “Oh! you do so plague me. I will some day, but it will be no use to you, mind.” — There the matter rested, for, having lost money, I ceased speculating, and did not go to my stock brokers, and amused myself by tailing my doxies.

Again I went, and, chatting with a man in the shop whom I knew a little of, he said that he thought Bertha up to snuff, and that Mr. * * * * * had had her. She seemed very pleased to see me, and I, being very bold and hot that day, got my hand up her clothes on to her thighs, at which she was excessively angry and declared that if I ever made such an attempt again, she would neither speak to me, nor serve me, and would tell the shop owner — “and I will never dine with you.” — Off I went and didn't see her for some time.

A few days afterwards, I met in the street Madeline (I cannot make up my mind whether she threw herself in my way or not). We talked, and she began to cry. She had never seen her young man since. — He had written to say he had done with her, and it was all my fault, she said. I couldn't admit that. It was an unfortunate accident, nothing more. — She never would meet me or any one else again, but it ended that day in her agreeing to dine with me the day following, to talk over what was to be done.

At the * * * * * hotel, I took a bed room and sitting room, leading out of each other, and took a small trunk there; feeling sure that she had been poked, and was coming to poke, and that the hotel would be more comfortable than a baudy house.

She was punctual, had a good appetite, and, tho crying at intervals when I mentioned her Richard, was in good spirits. — She was still dressmaking at Mrs. ****'s, but being out of sorts through the loss of her young man, had been fit for nothing; and her mistress had told her she must improve or go. Madeline seemed to me in a reckless frame of mind about that, said she must do what she could. If she must leave, she must; she couldn't help what her parents said, and so on. Hers was the sort of Devil-may-care manner which I have seen in women of her class who are tired of their work and position, and who want pleasure. — In fact as a main cause of that, and perhaps unconscious of it, want fucking; and are half disposed to get a prick up them at any risk. — Her coming to meet me again after what had taken place between us led me to think she might be in that state, and from her answers to, and sometimes evasions of, my questions, I came to the conclusion that Richard had been up the red inlet to her body, which she had between her thighs like other women.