There she began to lecture me about my rudeness, said she'd never expected it, nor would she walk with me again. She was excited, her face red. — “If you won't again I'll feel your garters now.” — She laughed, again I stooped, in a minute, spite of some weak struggles, my hand was clasped between her thighs — she'd no drawers on. — She cried hysterically, “Oho — oho — it's shameful,” and whimpered. I took my hand away, then saw that she'd shed no tears and that she looked caressingly at me. She didn't attempt to go away from me.
Frightened for a minute at my own temerity and success, the touch of her flesh so close to the hairy lipped entrance of her treasure, left me in a state of frantic, reckless randiness. I'd not had a woman for long, my prick had been stiffening on and off all day. I had drunk much champagne, so had she, and now, as whimpering she sat quite still, talking about what I'd done, instinct I suppose told me she was randy and ready, I forgot she was a lady, thought of nothing but cunt, and attempted again. She resisted but laughed in an anxious tone. “Oh, suppose you're seen now, don't,” and so on. Then without any idea of fucking her, but simply from desire to show her my sex, I pulled out my stiff pego. — “Look,” said I. — “Oh,” said she, “what an insult.” But she laughed as I attempted again to feel her garters, up she got, I caught her by the waist, kissed her, and put her hand round my prick — she'd no gloves on — and she held it murmuring. — “Don't now — let me go, — I'll tell your aunt — oh don't — someone will be coming — oh don't” — as I kept kissing. But still she kept hold of my prick, and her eyes glanced down on it and then at me. Did she quite know what she was doing?
Altho I wrote this part of the narrative one or two days afterwards, I couldn't describe all that then passed through my mind. Desire to feel her, fuck her, — fear of consequences, of her resisting, of telling my aunt or her father — wonder if she were virgin, whether she wanted fucking, and at her boldness — was it innocence, was I wrong in seducing her? — All made a mental chaos, during which I sat down, pulled her on to my knee, kissed her, pressed her hand again round my naked pego, and tried uselessly to feel her cunt. How it all came about I can scarcely tell, but it did just as narrated. She must have equally been under the influence of lust, and pleased with what I was doing, for there she sat on my knee holding my pego which began to throb, and tho it was almost imperceptibly done, her hand was moving gently up and down my prick, tho perhaps she did not know it. My sperm was boiling in my balls, the desire to spend became maddening, I clasped her hand in mine tightening hers round my prick and frigged, and in a minute almost, out shot a shower of sperm. I took away my hand from hers which still kept round my prick, and she was looking down at it when I recovered from my pleasure, as the last drop of sperm was issuing.
“You've frigged me, Agatha.” — “What?” said she as if astonished at the word and letting go my tool. — “Let me feel your cunt,” “Oh, for God sake don't — oh, let us go — what will they think of us at the house?” — “Let me.” She didn't say no, but got away from me. “I'll never speak to you again, and for God sake don't tell your cousin Fred. Will you now? — Promise me faithfully you won't. — Oh, what have you made me do? — I'll drown myself if you don't promise. Oh, you bad man.” — I promised. “Let me feel your garters.” — “I won't.” — We went to the house without speaking and there was Fred talking to the sister. The two girls left soon after. How Agatha's eyes looked as we shook hands. It was dusk.
When I reflected on all the occurrences next day, I felt convinced that the girl had lewedly egged me on. The same evening I was as hot as if I'd spent, and thoughts of what I had done and what I'd not done exited me so, that I frigged myself, fancying that her ittle hand was doing it, and thinking of that slight touch of her thigh. — Then I wondered where my sperm lad fallen, whether on the floor or on her dress. I lever knew.
Next morning my aunt was angry with us for showing such attention to the two girls. “Nobodies — even if their father has money — and neglecting other nice ;iris here.” Fred and I talked about it afterwards. — 'Where did you get to with Agatha?” asked he in a curious way. “Nowhere, we walked about.”
I was wild to see the girl after that, but opportunities were few. I couldn't go often to the village, and they were not often to be met at people's houses. — A fort-night elapsed and then we met her with her sister in the street, we shook hands, my cousin walked ahead with Helen, Agatha walked with me and said, “You haven't told?” I swore I hadn't and never would, but wished she'd do it again. — “You're shocking, and must be wicked to speak of such a thing, to wish such a thing,” and I didn't any more that day.
A month afterwards I'd been to London and left Fred there, when Agatha called on my aunt with some message from her father. Aunt was very gracious, and sent my only female cousin then at home, to show her the Farm.
Aunt was going out with my cousins, and thinking the ladies too long gone, sent me to them. They had left the farm and I found them away near a grotto —(The history of the doings in this grotto years afterwards I've told.) “Oh, I'd forgot, Mamma will be so angry, will you stop with Miss P***l**s*n while I dress, and come on to the house?” Off she went, my prick gave a throb, and in a minute I'd kissed Agatha and got her into the grotto. — “Now I'll feel your garter.” — She was collected and repulsed my hand, but I was more energetic and hesitated less. She had frigged me and seen my sperm, had never cried out, and her whole behaviour been such, that without fear I thought I might even try to fuck her. — So on I went trying to get my hand up her clothes, she successfully defeating me, begging, praying, saying she'd call my cousin but never doing so, when “Hark! Hark!” she said, quite sotto voce.
I stopped, heard in the distance my cousin's voice — calling me as I heard afterwards. — The voice ceased, Agatha was in a fright. — “Oh if she's seen you — if she's heard,” and so on. We were both startled and listened, and then in that quiet place I heard in the distance the wheels of a carriage and knew their sound. “Aunt's gone out driving,” said I, and immediately began the attack again.
She was now in fear and didn't mean me to feel her cunt, which was now my intention. Indeed all seemed possible, the excitement had raised my lust high, we were alone and had nothing to fear but the chance of a gardener coming. She'd seen my prick once, and again I produced it balls and all now. “Look Agatha, feel it again.” — I desisted from my attempts, thinking the sight of the machine would affect her and make her complaisant. — “Feel it.” — “I shan't” and she laughed as I thought strangely. — “Do this,” said I, frigging it. — “I shan't, your behaviour is shameful.” — Then she went off into a hysterical peal of laughter.
A few more words and I closed on her, she retreated against the wall and our lascivious struggles recommenced. “I will.” — “You shan't.” I pulled her petticoats up to her knees, she pushed them down, spoke, she cried, but always in a low tone showing fear of surprise, which gave me courage, till my hand was on her thighs near to her cunt, when violently she dislodged it and cried loudly, — “Oh don't, you never shall — leave off — you will if you're a gentleman — oh — now — it's shameful, you take a mean advantage when there's no one to protect me.” — My fingers just felt the hair of her motte, as she pushed me off and burst into tears. “Remem — ber — I'm — ah — a lady — aha,” she sobbed, which touched me and I ceased.
But my prick was still out — I recollected what she'd already done and that she'd made no noise. I was wild with sexual passion, and after a second or two said, — “Feel it then.” — “Will you then leave off?” — “Yes.” — she took hold of it as I put it into her soft white hand, and as I felt its smoothness, and saw the ruby tip protrucing from her little fist and she looking down at the implement of female pleasure, I nearly spent. But intention again came of feeling her cunt, to get my fin-gers between the soft warm lips whilst she handled my pego. Then I had conflicting sensations. — Some one might come — was she virgin? She was a lady and my action was mean, and spite of my lust I hesitated and stood motionless, she holding my prick and looking in my face. — “Do what you did that afternoon.” — “I don't know what I did.” — “Do this,” and I passed her hand up and down my prick. She began slowly, how my prick reciprocated, I took her round the waist and kissed her cheek, whilst gently but clumsily she frigged, and thinking of her cunt, longing to fuck her, I murmured my desires for her in the baudiest language. “Oho! —You're dreadful,” said she. Then out spurted my sperm, I clutched her hand and held it in mine whilst withdrawing my prick through hers, so that the last of my spendings fell on her fingers. — It gave me the utmost lascivious delight to know it had wetted them, as I sighed. “That ought to be — aha — in your — cunt.”