Cunt it was, but a slit in white flesh it really looked, for not a vestige of hair was visible. She had but a small clitoris (perhaps she'd had it cut off, I have since heard that such things are done in the East) and very small nymphae. — The cunt lips puffed out and I thought, on carefully looking, that I saw signs of stubbly hair, but could feel none. The cunt looked in fact like a long cut in a lump of dough, with a little red line indicating the parting. Pulling the lips wide apart, the red lining showed handsomely, and for a minute or two I amused myself with looking at it and feeling it. She was complaisant.
Then she investigated me, and said “Take off” — she evidently had had Englishmen, and suggested my taking off my trowsers, which I readily did. She felt and squeezed my prick, in the knowing manner of a harlot who looks out for ailments there. I knealt between her legs and shook my stiff stander in her face, and the next moment it was up her. There was something stimulating in the idea of having that hairless cunt. I put my fingers down and felt the smooth puffy lips which enclosed my prick, and soon left my mucilage in her vagina, to delight and soothe it.
She retired, and returned with a fresh washed cunt, pointed to an iron basin on a stool for my purification, and there I washed before her. Then in dumb play, and by a few words of English and much gesticulation, and the greater part of the time looking at and feeling her cunt, I passed away sufficient time to get another rise in my prick. The hairless slit received it, emptied it, rejected it in a slobbered state of exhaustion and unfitness for further sexual work, and after washing I left, escorted by my pimp — who wanted to know how I liked the lady.
I told my hotel acquaintance frankly all about it. — I've an impression he had had the woman himself, tho he didn't say so. She was an Armenian, he had heard, and not a Moslem woman, that Moslem women were not to be had. — That didn't matter to me, it was a hairless cunt, and I expect a Moslem woman, if this were not one, would have looked and fucked the same.
Afterwards, one night near the Bosphorus, I had an Italian woman, and a Greek also in the same room, both with cunts nearly as black as coal. Talking with the Italian and telling her what I had done with the hairless cunted woman, she said she would fetch one also. I fucked both her and the Greek, and a day or two after went to the same house in the day time, and in about an hour the Italian brought me quite a young woman without any hair on her cunt. I looked her carefully over from arsehole to navel, but not a hair could I see on her privates, tho I could feel a roughness.
I fucked her whilst the Italian, laying on the bed, showed me baudily her horsehaired sperm sucker, and I came to the conclusion that a hairy cunt in woman is much handsomer and more voluptuously enticing than a hairless one. It is different in a young girl, tho even in a tender lass I think I like to see a slight hair on her motte. — But the tender pink of the split-lining, be-comes the hairless pad in which it lies, in the youngsters up to fourteen years of age.
[This adventure with the smooth hairless cunted ones, preceded my liaison with Madeline and Bertha. The narrative, by error in arranging the papers, has been placed after them.]
[Then chance threw in my way a young lass, it was my last piece of such luck before a great change took place in my social life.]
About five o'clock one evening in September I was walking along one of the main roads of the suburbs when heavy rain suddenly set in. Tho I had an umbrella, I turned under an archway at the entrance to a builder's yard. Standing there were three girls neither apparently older than sixteen, they were all neatly tho poorly dressed and looked like the daughters of small tradesmen. They all turned out to be apprentices to a dressmaker (not work women yet) and received a mere trifle (nine pence a day) as an encouragement, which was to be gradually increased as they grew older and could be more useful. This was told me by one of them later on.
They had no umbrellas. Standing there, I talked with them and asked how they expected to get home. — They seemed pleased with the notice of a gentleman, and answered cheerfully. The rain continued, and as I talked I began to think of the lasses' cunts, especially of one of them who was very pretty. They told me the way they were going home, and just then an empty four wheeled cab passed. Luckily I hailed it in time, and offered the girls if they liked to get in to drive them part of their way, as I happened to be going in their direction. Seemingly with much pleasure they accepted, and we all four get into the cab together.
Directly the cab moved off I began joking. Had they sweethearts? I was sure they had. — Impossible for such nice girls not to have them; they got kissed of a night in the dark, I was sure, didn't their sweethearts tickle them and try to feel their garters, and so on? The girls were delighted with the chaff and talked at once. — “No — no — Bessie has” — “And so has she.” — “He's felt your garters, you told me so.” — “No — no” — “Mother won't let me out of a night.” “Mine does sometimes, to go to aunt.” — “I get out if father's out,” — So their tongues gabbed on. — “Now you've all been kissed haven't you? — tell the truth and I'll give you each six pence.” — With shuffling and hesitation they did. — “Winifred has” — “So have you.” — “Oh, you story.” — “I saw Bob do it.” — Each got six pence, (tho I hadn't enough of that small coin). “Now, give me a kiss for the ride, and I'll give each a shilling.” They demurred till the prettiest, who looked the boldest, let me take one, gave me a return, and then the rest did. I made each stand up before me to give the kiss, and pulled her to me between my legs, my hand round her bum which I pressed hard whilst I held her, tho not so as to scare her; longing when I did it to have my hands on the naked flesh.
I went on joking, approaching smuttiness, and had just offered them a shilling each to feel their garters, when one cried out. — “Oh, it's past our street, stop the cab please, sir.” — I offered to drive down the street. “Oh, no, father might see us” — the little sluts were cunning already. The rain had come to a drizzle, and there was no help for it but to let them out. The two stood up together facing the cab door as the cab-man opened it, and as they prepared to step out I put my hand in front and gave a gentle push up against one of their notches, and pinched the other's bum. — One looked up silly at me but without a word.
Winifred, who looked the oldest, was also about to alight, but she had said she lived further off to the right, so I stopped her. — “No, you can get out further on.” — “I'd rather get out with them, it doesn't rain much.” — I closed the door, the two girls walked away, the cabman drove off. — “I much want to go to ****,” said I, “and then I'm coming back, drive with me there, and I'll set you down on my return.” She refused, but the cab went on, the rain recommenced, she acquiesced, and sat quietly by my side, a little anxious seemingly. — For a moment I reflected, but my cock, erecting itself unasked, urged me on. I let the cabman drive on much further than I wanted to go, then, coming back, called where I had intended, Winifred sitting in the cab all the time. I did not stop at the house five minutes and then told the cabman to drive a long way round.
I kissed her, praised her beauty (she was the prettiest of the lot), and as she liked the praise and the kisses, offered a shilling to see her garters. That alarmed her and she wanted to get out. — “Oh, what a long way you're taking me.” — I pacified her; on went the cab, I asked her to meet me another day, and at last. — “Now don't be alarmed, you have only to say no and you shan't. I'll give you a sovereign to let me feel your thighs.” — I'd expected her to be scared, and even to desire to get out of the cab. To my delight all she said was, “You dirty man, I shan't.” — I pitched the sovereign down on the seat in front of us, and begged and coaxed her. “Just to feel your thighs.” A little time after, “Just to feel if there's any hair there, and you shall feel me, don't be alarmed, I won't do it if you so dislike it, but feel me.” She began really to cry, it was no sham, but it soon ceased. “There, take up the sovereign, whether you let me or not it's yours.” This was interlarded with her refusals, angry at first, but getting less and less vehement. At length, when it was getting dusk, she felt my prick, and soon after my fingers just felt her little notch. Soon it was quite dark. What would her mother think of her being so late. “Oh, where are you taking me?” — Soon I set her down near her house, with a promise from her to meet me next day if she could.