I pushed her on the bed, put my finger up the little quim and found it more lubricious than it had been five minutes before. My prick stood like iron at that, and pulling her by her thighs to the beds edge, plunged it hard up her. — “Ohoo! fuck me,” cried the elder in disappointed tone. But the letch for the hairless cunt was on me, I rammed as violently as I could, longing to hit her womb portals — my prick seemed far stiffer than before. — “Ho! you hurts,” cried she. Harder than ever then I thrust, and felt my prick at each push banging hard against the bottom of her womb, I was delighted at hurting her. — “Hoo, — don't,” and she drew her bum a little back, a very little, for I held her like a vice and she was helpless. Bang went my pego still. “Oho — oho,” she cried out, my arsehole tight- ened with the ejaculating pleasure. I spent and was quiet just in time to see her sister finish frigging her-self, which she'd done, excited by the baudy amusements. Then I left much delighted, and many a time my prick stood afterwards when I thought of that foggy evening's adventure, and the skinny, hairless cunted little whore — one of the youngest I've fucked.

In a railway carriage in London on one morning in winter, as we approached * * * *, the passengers got out leaving me alone with a short well-dressed woman looking about thirty-five years. — She had been looking at me almost continuously for a quarter of an hour, which made me look at her — for she was good looking — and directly we were alone she spoke about the weather, and very shortly told me she was a dressmaker. On that a little conversation ensued, when she remarked that it was difficult for the girls to dress and make a living out of their wages, and if good looking they wouldn't; and she smiled significantly. I also smiled, and was inclined to believe that she was making advances on her own behalf, when she asked if I knew **** Street, and replying that I did, she told me the number of her shop, asking me to call and try on her gloves. She sold gentlemen's gloves and cravats — nothing more for gentlemen — for she was a dress-maker.

At once I set her down as a procuress, and questioned her closely. — Yes, she had some pretty girls working for her, she'd have none but pretty ones. “Come and buy a cravat or gloves,” — and I could see them. “What's the good of seeing and longing?” “Oh if you long, I'll see what I can do for you.” — Then I heard that they were all quite respectable, but girls would be flighty, and she shielded them from trouble. At once I saw all this was mere cant, that she got pretty girls to work for her, and if she got a chance, sold the pretty girls, and perhaps this journey in a railway carriage was her mode of introducing her business. — “I suppose you have some one older than you in the business.” — No, she hadn't. — “Have you got the ad-dress?” — I looked at the card on which I had written it. — “Yes.” “Will you come?” “Perhaps, and listen,” I put my mouth to her ear for I felt now on sure ground, “and perhaps I'll fuck you.” “Oh you vulgar fellow, this is my station,” — and quickly she got out, leering at me as she alighted.

The meeting with this procuress is one of the most singular events of my life. Altho I'd had my fun in talking about fucking with her, I'd not the slightest intention of going to her shop to buy gloves, yet the meeting haunted me, I couldn't help thinking about it, and the idea of fucking a handsome girl who, whilst working at dressmaking, yet on the sly got her cunt stretched and lubricated, pleased me. I might go and see her I thought, there could be not much harm in that. — Then that she was a woman capable of laying traps for men occurred to me, and I hesitated. But it ended one after-noon at nearly six oc'clock, in my going there. The shop was in a street which tho a side one, was one of fair traffic, some omnibuses even passed thro it, and the outside looked all right. It was dusk, the gas was lighted, and in a room at the back of the shop I saw thro the window young women at work, the glazed partition between it and the shop was only covered by a trans-parent gauze curtain, thro which I fancied I could distinguish the woman I'd met in the railway carriage — I entered the shop and she came out to me.

She recognized me at once, sold me a pair of gloves, then said, “Come and look at my young ladies.” — We approached the gauze curtain. “That's a fine girl,” said she of one standing up — A pretty little girl had taken my fancy. — “Ah, I don't know about her, but that other little girl with dark eyes and full breasts, sitting, she'll make an appointment with you. Go out of the shop to the private door, ring, and I'll open it, then you can go upstairs and I'll send her up to you in the front room, but be careful, don't let all the young ladies know that you know.” — “Is there a bed?” “Oh dear no — she'll make an appointment to dine with you, or to go somewhere with you — you can't do any-thing here — and you'll give me a fiver.” My eyes were opened wider still, but thought I'd do as she told me, and soon found myself in the front room in which were many dresses half made laying about. — Miss **** came up with me, cautioned me about all sorts of things, in a way which shewed me at once that the coming girl knew all about it, tho doubtless she'd play the modest.

It was so. — “Oh, excuse me, sir, I want this dress.” “Ah! how pretty you are, I want you.” — She smiled. I wasn't going to play a long game with a knowing one, so said at once I wished she'd give me a kiss. — “Ah — no, leave me alone,” — but she let me. — “I'd like to sleep with you.” “Ah — I sleep at home with my parents.” “Where?” — She named a district. — “Couldn't you meet me?” — Yes she would, and so quickly did I come to the point that her innocent manner fairly broke down. After saying that she would if I'd give her a new dress, it came to her agreeing to three sovereigns to buy the dress, but I was not to tell Miss *** whom she'd tell I was rude and she'd have nothing to do with me. The transparency of the affair made me laugh, I got her name — a Sophy something — made an appointment — and then said, “Well my dear Sophy, for to-morrow at **** 6 o'clock to a second, but now I'll give you a sovereign to feel your cunt at once.” Not a loose word had I said before. “Oh,” said she haughtily, “you take me for a street walker but I ain't,” and she seemed very much offended. — “No my dear I don't, or I shouldn't propose to dine with you, after dinner I shall feel and see your cunt and fuck it, so let me feel it now.” She burst out into a peal of laughter and it ended in my feeling her cunt, which I did up and down, and in and out, from clitoris to bum hole. She took the sovereign, went off, and soon reappeared Miss * * * *, who asked for her fee, and was told I didn't mean to pay it. — “Suppose the girl doesn't come?” “You may trust me.” “Perhaps, but I don't know you, so shan't, you must think me a fool.” “I thought you a gentle-man,” said she angrily, “the girl shan't come.” “All right, don't let her, I'm not going to be fooled,” and putting on my hat I approached the door. — “Stop a minute I'll come with her then.” “Then you'll wait till I've fucked her.” “You're no gentleman, some of the best in the land come to me.” “All right, come with her and I'll see about paying you.” “I shan't, I can't tomorrow.” “And I can't the next day,” — which she'd named — I went down stairs. — “Stop a minute — the one you saw and liked is a virgin, give me fifty pounds and you shall have her very soon.” “Can't afford it.” “Well stop, if you're a gentleman.” — I was then near the bottom of the stairs, but stopped. — “You won't round on me?” — a cunt term for telling what is a secret among thieves. “Certainly not, come to-morrow — we'll dine — you shall dine with us, and directly I've fucked her, you shall have exactly what I'll give her — three sovereigns.” “You're a dirty cad and not a gentleman,” tossing her head and turning her rump to me she went down stairs — I went out and away.