“Yes, my darling you will, and I shall give you pleasure, and you me, now come this side, I've done, and you shall feel me.” — “Shan't — I won't.” — But persuaded she did, for my erotic philosophy told. — “Why shouldn't we — who will know but we? every girl does it but doesn't tell.” — Sexual want, and voluptuous feelings pervading, settled it; and in five minutes in absolute silence, she was sitting with her little hand round my standing prober, and I was feeling the full little pad at the bottom of her belly, on which I could just feel the slight hair of puberty. She was just over sixteen years of age.
As we approached her street — “I wonder if mother's out, she sometimes takes a walk about this time on Wednesdays,” said Winifred, anxiously relinquishing my prick and looking out of the cab. She got out at the end of her street, I dismissed the cab, and at a distance following her, saw her enter the shop and, going up to it, saw through the window Lydia as I supposed (it was). Staring at the good looking young woman, I wondered again what her trouble had been; and again said to myself, “Cunt's had some thing to do with it.” — Winifred's street led out of a broad highway with but little traffic, it was the least frequented large high-way so near the bridges in London (it is nearly the same now spite of buildings and population). The foot-paths were very wide with a strip of paving along them. — Some big gardens enclosed by high walls were there at places, and the rest of the houses fronting the road were oldish middle class and with very long gar-dens in front. A dull quiet road it was. I sauntered along it, in a madly lewed state thro feeling her little motte and having my tool handled by her, and wishing for relief, looked out for a whore. — But it was just the hour when few of the professional fuckstresses were about, or indeed any one else. — At length a tallish girl but who didn't look more than sixteen came sauntering along. “Come and give me a kiss, Mary,” said I, — changing my reception.
She stopped and talked, and I found she was either gay or half gay, and after satisfying myself about her face under a gas lamp, we went down a darkish lane or passage and against a high wall with trees overhanging it, felt her gap, and she my poker. Said she. — “I work at bonnets. — No I don't know a house near here, I live close by, but there's a nice house at about ten minutes walk.” — Mutual handling of our privates went on during our talk, till I could wait no longer, and fucked the damsel as she stood against the wall, gave her half a crown, and departed, leaving her trying to piss. I like to see a woman squatting for that. — “You can't piddle, my dear,” she laughed. — “I just did it before I left home, but I shall in a minute.” I could not go to meet Winifred for one or two days, and when I was at the appointed place she did not appear, nor for two days after. Thinking my chance lost, and not wishing to compromise the girl, I ceased going there, but the saucy chattering blue eyed lass, dwelt in my mind, my prick stiffened when I thought of her little hand having been round it, and of the little clitoris I had barely felt and not seen. So again I went near the workshop a little earlier, and waited inside a cab on the opposite side of the road. — At the usual hour out she came with the other two lasses.
I drove well ahead, alighted, told the cabman to follow me at a distance, and then walking straight back, met the three girls point blank. All looked confused tho they smiled, and they edged away from me. I nodded familiarly and passed on, as if I never meant again to speak to them, but noticed Winifred's face colour up, and that her eyes looked saucily at me. — Then I felt dreadfully in love with her and lusted furiously. When nearly out of sight, I got into the cab, and, telling the cabman what to do, followed at foot pace.
Just where the two girls had got out of the cab before, they turned off. Winifred crossed the road, and stood for a minute looking back. The fast little wench, I guessed, was wondering if I was about. I had reached her by then, stepped out of the cab, asked her to have a ride, was at first refused, and then she got in, saying she could only ride for half an hour. Was it in anticipation of a present?
The girl was anxious. I told her how I had seen her sister, and how a girl not older than she had let me feel her quim in * * * * Lane, but didn't tell I'd fucked her. — “They call it the dark walk,” said Winifred, much interested. I began to think she knew a lot, but so do all girls sixteen years old in her class of life — It ended in her saying she'd meet me in an hour if she could get out. — If her mother was out she was sure she could, if at home she might refuse. “But your sister?” She didn't care about her, if she told of her, she'd tell of her sister. If she did not meet me, she'd leave earlier next day and have a ride with me. I dined on a chop at a poor dining place and at the hour named was at the spot, but Winifred never appeared.
Next day she got into the cab with me, near to work place, and again we had a long ride, jelly, cakes, and cherry brandy. — Again she felt my prick, and I a little bit more of her cunt, but she resisted furiously my fingers getting proper feel of it. In the day light now, I asked if she'd like to see my cock. No she didn't want
— but, when stiff, I put my hat over it, lifted up the hat when no vehicles were passing, and the lass looked at it and laughed. — “You've seen one before, Winny.”
— “That I haven't,” said she energetically. — We drove up and down the same road (I wonder what cabby thought) and talked. I felt her all about, but she resisted more than she had done before, and said she wouldn't ride with me again if I went on “at such games.”
The jelly and cherries set her chattering. She hadn't spent any of the sovereign, and she was sick of work, she'd go to service or something else, she did not care what, her mother kept her so strict. She'd like to mind the shop with her mother, Lydia wanted to leave, but her mother wouldn't let her. — At last I heard that Lydia had stopped out all night when in service, and been dismissed. — Winifred didn't know where she'd been. “Yes you do.” Well, she wasn't going to say if she did. — I concluded that Lydia had been fucked, and that Winifred knew it.
Then I resolved to try harder to get the girl, thinking from what had already taken place between us, from her voluptuous glances, from a wriggling, half lewed manner of moving and giggling, that she was of ardent temperament, and that her lower maw had craving for distension, and to have its hunger assuaged by the emollient liquid which a prick alone can give. “Pshaw, some man will get her soon, she is sure to get fucked — I may as well have her as another” — said I to my-self, and tried to induce her to go to a house with me, but was unsuccessful. — I knew none in her neighbour-hood for it was strange to me, and my brothels were two miles off. When we parted, she'd promised to meet me again.
Winifred's place of work was close to a road with good traffic, and that night I walked about it till I saw a well dressed doxy, and with her went to a nice quiet baudy house, which I never should have found out by myself, and as before on similar occasions, I emptied my testicles into her. I had intended doing nothing of the sort, but couldn't resist just looking at her calves, then feeling her thighs, then having a look at the red center cleft, and then I wanted to see her posteriors, and after feeling her about and saying that that was all. — “What a funny man you are, ain't you going to do anything, haven't you got a prick?” “Shall I frig you?” said the lady — A few minutes after, my poker was poking in her glowing sheath, and my semen shooting out from my balls into it. — I may add here that, many times in my life, I have found out the nearest accommodation houses by asking gay women to take me to them.