My stiff cock was soon made visible to her and I tried to feel her again. “If you don't leave off I'll run out of the house.” — “Let me fuck you.” — “You beast.” — “I'll give you these,” and put three sovereigns down on the table (I've always found three sovereigns a lucky number). — “I won't let you, I don't want the money.” — She got noisy, so I ceased attempting or tempting further. In a quarter of an hour, after chatting on with scarcely a reply, I produced a baudy book and asked her to look at it. — “What's it about?” — “Come and see.” — She sat on my knee, and took more champagne. — “That will make you want to piddle.” — She tossed her head without reply, and I opened a book I have had some years full of the lewedest engravings. She turned over the leaves without any remark, but she coloured up. Then came a print of a girl gamahuching another. “Oh! what a beast” — and she closed the book. The pictures, talk, wine, and the look of my prick had heated her little quim, kind nature helps the man, thoughts stir lust. — suddenly tickling occurred to me, so kissing and talking baudy, I began tickling her, and did so till she kicked, and writhed, yelled and laughed, till almost exhausted. Then I got my finger well on her moist slit, and frigged away spite of her closing her thighs on it, and wriggling her buttocks.
I saw that she was clean upset, that lust was getting strong in her. — Desire in a woman is her weakness. Thro struggling and my frigging, her hair was tumbling down — her breath got short, her struggles feeble. — “Oh — now — don't — oho — don't do that — aha — o — sir — what a shame.”
Instinct told me that the psychological moment had come. Kissing her I lifted her on to the bed, she perhaps half unconscious that she was getting on, and all the time saying, — “You shan't now. — I won't let you.” — On to her back I got her, throwing myself upon her at the same instant, my trowsers a little unbuttoned, thro which my prick protruded. I hitched up her clothes with difficulty, fearing she would still resist, and somehow managed to open my trowsers more, laying on her all the time. — Then I noticed she had drawers on and tore at them violently. — “Oh don't tear 'em they are new,” said Agnes roused. In hot lust, and fear of some impediment, I tugged harder, they seemed slitting, my belly partly met hers, and I felt her cunt with one hand whilst still tugging at the drawers with the other, till they were away from her thighs. For an instant I rose up between her thighs, had a flash of white flesh and dark hair, and down on her belly went again, guiding my prick to its goal.
Then occurred that which has taken place several times in my life, and I think more frequently of late years, perhaps the result of age. As my prick touched her sexual treasure, to my horror it quickly drooped, its tip was at the mouth of the temple, was between the lips of the avenue so coveted, but would not enter, and a fearful nervousness came over me. The girl lay quiet, yielding her person to my will, and I lay feeling her buttocks, kissing, endearing and rubbing my gland up and down the face of her cunt, in a state of a fearful misery at my impotence. — How long my nervous horror lasted I cannot say. “There love — that doesn't hurt does it — that's all” — and other puerilities I uttered, till I recollected suddenly that several times in my life before I had been similarly impotent, and that it did not last long. Courage came with that. Sliding my finger along the lips of her cunt I tried to put one up. She winced, “Oh! — you hurt” — I felt sure now that she was virgin, and at once my prick sprang into life, into splendid condition, — fit to break through any hymen, young, old, tough or easy.
My clothes seemed in the way, my prick couldn't get to its goal comfortably, tho she lay quiet with eyes closed, anticipating my pego. Rising on to my knees, rapidly I took off coat and waistcoat, tore open my trowsers, dropped down on her again, and my pego touched her notch, I placed it at the orifice, clasped her buttocks and lunged. It was stopped. — “Hoh — don't” — she cried. “Be quiet dear, they'll hear you,” and I lunged again. She cried out loudly. It was a tough maidenhead, in two or three more lunges my tip stuck fast. Another lunge with all the force of rump and loins, a violent lunge, something gave way, and my gland seemed nipped. Another thrust, another sharp cry from her, and my prick was buried in her, her maidenhead was gone, my sperm was jetting out hot and thick into her cunt. Then she lay tranquil, soothed by the emollient my prick had shed in her. — Girls I find whatever their struggles before, all lay quiet directly the prick has shed its balmy fluid up them; sperm is a delicious cunt-soother.
Recovering from my fainting joy, my prick lay still stiff up her — Agnes lay quiet with closed eyes, and answered none of my questions, and so I lay up her thinking and indulging. At last she said, “You've torn my drawers to pieces I'm sure.” — “I'll give you a new pair dear” — and I wriggled my prick a bit in her cunt, for it was dwindling. Now I longed to give her pleasure for she hadn't spent, and pushed and wriggled my prick more, put my hand down to feel it, and my fingers were blood stained. Then I uncunted. — “Let me get up, please do,” she whined. She felt her quim. — “You've made me bleed,” she whimpered. — “Let me get up.” — I wouldn't, but still partially laying on her, lifted up one of her legs, tugged her drawers up, and put them under her cunt. It was a tough virginity, a bloody sacrifice, scarcely any hymen I've slaughtered caused so much blood-letting. Women in this vary much, I've ruptured many a cunt and know. — We lay now talking. How lovely is that chat with the woman who has just been fucked for the first time, whose cunt is full of the man's semen. “Next time dear it will be all pleasure.” — Now and then I took the ragged drawers away from her quim to see if she were bleeding still. — She seemed now apathetic in her quiescence, as I tenderly put a finger up her deflorated hole. — What delight to feel the soft buttery interior, and know it was of my own making; how quietly she let me feel, altho with a few twitches of her thighs. Then I made her feel my prick, it was sticky, had drooped but was again stiff ten minutes after it had left her cunt; then on to her again I turned.
“Oh — no — not again.” — “There dear — the tip's in — there” (a shove). “O-hoo” — I was up her. — Then came the delightfully gentle thrusts as smoothly it stretched her ravished cunt, and glided up and down in the soft channel; it went out to the tip, up to the balls, and then lay quiet plugging her, letting her feel the delicious distention of her sheath. Then it wriggled up against her womb portals giving gentle titillating pushes there — knocking for an opening for the sperm to enter. She sighed, I saw the white of her eyes thro the half closed lids — she was enjoying the fuck now — its pleasure was coming on her — her cunt plugged and already gorged with sperm, was ready for my second libation. Now I thrust harder and quicker — a little sigh, followed by a slight shudder, her hands clasped my arse (a woman instinctively does so when she spends) and her crisis was on — Ah! that marvellous grinding clip, that gentle movement. My spunk shot up her as she quivered with pleasure, and then with eyes closed we laid together tranquilly joined.
But not for long, desire for her began as soon as I had finished, never had I been more continuously and irresistibly randy, and before the hour had run out we were spending again. Two hours later on, I had just had my fourth, last, long, labourious fuck, when we heard sharp raps at the door. It was Nelly.
“Oh! it's mistress, don't pray open the door.” She shook her petticoats when off the bed, and with one leg of her drawers round her ankle, opened the door. I had buttoned up. — “I've been knocking ten minutes — fetch some ale Agnes,” said Nell — the girl who looked ill went out. I told Nell all, gave her her present and left. She said that an hour before she had knocked. We had not heard her.