A change in taste.—A small cunt longed for.—Hunting in the
Strand.—Yellow-haired Kitty.—Her little companion.—Oh!
you foule.—The house in E...t.r Street.—Double fees.—
Kitty's pleasure.—Objections to washing.—Have the other
gal.—Cleanliness.—Home occupations.—I ain't gay.—Kitty's
males.
I don't know why my erotic fancies took the desire for a young lass, but they did. My taste had for the most part run upon the big, fleshy, fat-cunted, and large-arsed; now perhaps for contrast, perhaps from sheer curiosity, the letch took possession of me. A small cunt, tight and hairless perhaps,—I wondered how it looked, felt, and if pleasure would be increased by it, and though my prick swelled when spending until I have groaned under the grip, even of a large cunt, I longed for quite a little one. I had never had a very young girl,—excepting the little child,—Nelly and Sophy had both a little hair on their mottes, so I would try for a youthful quim and one if possible with no hair on it.
I was not versed in the walks and ways of little ones, and looking about at night saw none. Talking about it at my Club, I heard they were to be seen mostly in the day-time, so I looked out in the Strand for what I wanted, and during day-light.
On a blazing hot afternoon in June I walked about a long time thinking of youthful harlots, but saw none, or if I did could not distinguish them. At length I saw two young girls idling about, looking in at the shop windows on the other side of the way. One was dressed all in black, and was taller and stouter than the other. They were not got up in any showy way, but looked like the children of decent mechanics.
They took no notice of any one, nor any one of them, they stopped at a shop, and I noticed that the biggest had the largest legs. A plump form had as said attractions to me almost superior to face. Crossing to the other side of the way I passed them, looking them full in the face. The taller one was good-looking, white-faced, and had goldenish hair, a colour I could not bear. They looked at me, but there was nothing to indicate fastness. Returning I met them again, the same stare, the same indifference. Thinking of their little cunts, and getting randy and reckless I determined to try. They stopped at a sweetmeat-shop; going to the side of them, and looking into the shop, not at them, so as to prevent my being noticed, "I'll buy you whatever you want if you will come with me", I said. The bigger of the two edged away from me, after looking up in my face, whispered something to her companion, and they both moved along the street without noticing me further.
I was disconcerted, and went over to the opposite side of the way again watching them, they went to a print-shop, and looked in; the big one looked in the direction of a lolly-pop shop, and up and down the street. She was looking after me evidently, so I crossed over, met them full-face, and as I passed said without stopping, "Come with me, and I'll give you money."
I turned a corner, and looked, they were at another shop, the bigger girl with her arm round the smaller one's neck. I again passed them, going back to do so, and saying, "I'll give you three and sixpence." That was the exact sum, and then turned up a street which led to baudy houses, and waited at the turning into the street.
The two girls turned the corner, stopped, and talked, the bigger laid hold of, and slightly pulled the smaller, and seemed to be persuading her. Failing apparently she left her, but turned back, spoke to her again, and both came on together. Then I turned into the back-street, the two girls appeared at the corner of that, and then stopped and talked for a minute. Tired of waiting I thought I had made a mistake, and going slowly back heard the bigger one say, "You are a foule." "Oh! you foule." "Come he wants us." "You foule."
"I don't want her," said I, "but you,—come,"—and returning entered a baudy house, the outer-door of which stood open, thinking the bigger one would follow, and sure now that she was a harlot. I then passed through the inner door which as usual then had a glass window covered with a red curtain.
A minute elapsed, the baudy house-keeper had been spoken to, but the girl not coming, I opened the door to look out. The bigger girl was just inside the outer door, and was pulling in the other one. "Come you foule,—you said you would,—he'll give you money as well as me, and I'll give you some of mine too,—well you are a foule," quite bawling it out. There was not much secrecy needed in such things at those times, in those streets.
"I don't want her," said I hurriedly, "it's you,—come in, or I won't wait." She came in, the other girl disappeared, and we were soon in a bed-room together.
It was the first house at that end of the street, had been newly opened, and was furnished in a style not like a baudy house; no show, neat and clean, but cheaply; no bed-hangings (and in those days most baudy houses had bed-hangings), the blinds were new and white, the beds quite clean. The top-floor room where I went for economy was two shillings and sixpence. The woman of the house was tall, comely, and middle-aged. As I paid her I noticed she had fat red cheeks. How curious that I should recollect those red cheeks. She had a white apron on, and was a civil sort of creature.
The girl stood still staring at me. Sitting on the edge of the bed I stared at her, filled with baudy curiosity and the appreciation of novelty. "Why won't you have the other gal?" said she. "I don't want her, nor want two,—and she is a dirty little imp." "No she ain't dirty, she washes herself like me,—let her come up." "No,—come you here." "She is quite clean,—I wash her myself sometimes." "No, come here I tell you."
The girl came to me dawling. I put my hands up her clothes. A fleshy little bum met my hand, then in the front a smooth belly, a motte almost hairless as it seemed. She said not a word, but gave a sort of jerk of her body, and as my hand touched her bum it jutted forwards, and as I drew my hand round to her belly she drew her belly back. It did not seem like shame. She did not utter a word. "Take off your things", said I.
She drew away from me, and took off her bonnet, then stood still. "Off with your things," I said throwing off some of mine. "I can't take them off,—if I do I can't fasten them again, they are in a knot." "Take them off." "If I do you will have to fasten me." "So I will." Slowly she stripped to her chemise. "Take that off." "I won't." "Come here then." She came. Laying hold of her I lifted her bodily, and threw her with her back on the bed, throwing up her chemise and stretching open her legs quickly. She gave a suppressed "hoh!" put her hand down to her cunt, and felt her mons nervously.
"Take away your hand dear." She took it away, then I pulled open her little thing. Such a delicious little gap it was, with the smallest possible quantity of golden hair just showing on it; such a smooth white belly and thighs, and all so plump, that I was wonder-struck at a young girl being so round and fine. I had not expected under that shabby black clothing anything so nice. I was charmed with her head also; in a big black and shabby bonnet I had seen nothing but a white face and large blue eyes. Her hair was golden in tone, bright and flowing.
Whilst pulling off my trousers she sat up and asked, "Is it big?" For the instant I did not quite know what she meant. "What's big?" "Your thing,—measure it." I went up to her pulling out my pego. "It is big," said she. "It's little," said I. "It ain't,—it's big." "No." "Yes,—don't push hard sir,—will you now?" "No my dear I won't,—Is it bigger than other men's pricks?" "I shan't tell you." "Well lay down and open your thighs,"—again I lifted her on to the bed. "Don't you do it hard," said she getting up again, "or I won't let you." "Then I won't pay you." Back she fell, I wetted my prick, put it to the notch, and with a shove or two was well up her. She gave a "oh,—oooh!" and then laid quiet. Grasping her fat little bum I fucked, then stopping pulled out my prick, and looked at her cunt. "What are you a going to do?" said she in an astonished way.
"Get quite on to the bed dear." Slow at obeying I helped her into the posture, and got on to her, and brought my pleasure to an end, lying on the top of the pretty little girl.
I lay on her long afterwards, and tried by the muscular contraction of my arse-cheeks and ballock-roots to stiffen my pego again. She laid quiet all the time with my prick up her, but I could not manage it, my prick shrunk.
A second erection without uncunting being impossible, I got into a kneeling posture between her open legs, and checked a slight movement on her part saying, "Now lie quiet,—don't move." There was I kneeling between her thighs; looking down I saw her half-opened cunt with the gruelly tide issuing from it, took my prick in hand half its potential size, flabby and wet, pulled back the skin, and out rolled a large drop of sperm on to her thigh. She lay quite quiet, looking at me, her yellow hair falling all around her head as it lay on the pillow. Now I was astonished at her beauty, I had not noticed it fully before.
"You are very handsome,—how old are you?" "Fifteen and a little." "You must be more." "I don't know, but mother says so." I looked at her cunt, the hair on it was not an eighth of an inch long, scarcely any of it, and of course showing no intention of curling, but her form was so round that I could not believe she was so young. "Fifteen and a little," she repeated, her aunt and her mother had been disputing the day of her birth; her mother was out of her mind when she gave birth to her. "Aunt says I ain't fifteen."
"Give the other gal a shilling,—do," she broke in whilst I was questioning her about age, and kneeling between her thighs. "What are you so anxious about the other girl for?" "She lives over us, and is my friend,—will you give her a shilling?—do." "Why?" "Do,—if you don't I shall give her a shilling of mine, and give her some of mine anyhow,—you said you'd give me three and sixpence, didn't you?"
Curiously amused I laughed. "I'll give you a shilling for her, if you let me do it to you again." "Oh! do," said she.
It was hot, I had not reposed after my pleasure, so quitting my kneeling position I laid down besides her, and began feeling her breasts. She turned her head towards me. "You have not washed yourself," said I after a minute's amusement with her bubbles. "It ain't no good if yer ar going to make a mess in it agin,—when you've done it I'll wash it all out together." I thought from that speech she was not an old one at the game, yet after all she only behaved as every young girl I have had usually behaved, they have mostly objected to washing their cunts directly after a poke, I think they rarely wash it until requested. There must be some sweet tranquillizing pleasure which a man's sperm gives to a woman's cunt, and makes her undesirous of washing it out. It is only when a woman knows it is good for her health if she be gay, that she ever does it. No married woman washes the sperm out of her cunt, yet in the morning after a night's fucking you never find the sperm if you feel in the cunt for it,—where does it go?—it is absorbed I suppose.
We lay thus and talked. "How old are you really?" "Fifteen and two months, as I told yer,—I always was fat, but ain't so fat as I was though,—father used to say I should get fat on gruel." I should have guessed her full sixteen had it not been for the little hair there was on her motte, and the delicate pink small cut, and tight prick-hole. "How long have you been gay?" "I ain't gay," said she astonished. "Yes you are." "No I ain't." "You let men fuck you, don't you?" "Yes, but I ain't gay." "What do you call gay?" "Why the gals who come out regular of a night dressed up, and gets their livings by it." I was amused.
"Don't you?" "No, mother keeps me." "What is your father?" "Got none, he's dead three months back,—mother works, and keeps us.—she is a charwoman, and goes out on odd jobs." "Don't you work?" "Not now," said she in a confused way, "mother does not want me to, I takes care of the others." "What others?" "The young ones." "How many?" "Two,—one's a boy, and one's a gal." "How old?" "Sister's about six, and brother's nearly eight,—but what do you ask me all this for?" "Only for amusement,—then you are in mourning for your father?" "Yes, it's shabby, ain't it?—I wish I could have nice clothes, I've got nice boots,—ain't they?"—cocking up one leg, "a lady gived em me when father died,—they are my best."
"Are you often in the Strand?" "When I gets out I likes walking in it, and looking at the shops,—I do if mother's out for the day." "Does she know you are out?" The girl who had been lying on her back with her head full towards me, turned on her side, and giggling said in a sort of confidential way, "Bless you no,—she'd beat me if she knew,—when she be out I locks them up, and takes the key, and then I goes back to them,—I've got the key in my pocket, and shall be home before mother,—she is out for the whole day."
"Do the children know you're out?" "No, I says to them, 'You be quiet now, I'm going to the yard.'" "What's the yard?" said I not reflecting. The girl thought a minute, chuckled, turned her head, and was silent, she was actually blushing. "What's the yard?" Suddenly it struck me, "Going to the privy?" She burst out laughing. "Yes that's it, I say I'm going to the privy, and then I comes out with her, and they can't get out, so they are all right, and we go back together if she's with me; if she ain't I go back by myself,—there,"—and she stopped satisfied with her explanation. "They may set fire to themselves," said I. "There ain't no fire after we have had breakfast, I puts it out, and lights it at night if mother wants hot water."
"What do you do with yourself all day?" "I washed both of them, I gives them food if we've got any, then washes the floor and everything, and then washes myself, then I looks out of the winer." "Wash yourself." "Yes I washes from head to foot allus." "Have you a tub?" "No we've only got a pail and a bowl, but I'm beautiful clean,—mother tells every one I'm the beautifullest clean gal a mother ever had,—I wash everything, mother's too tired. Sometimes we all go out and walk, but that's at night; sometime I lays abed nearly all day."
She was beautifully clean in her flesh, her linen was clean, its color awful; but what could be expected from a pail, a bowl, and one room to dry things in. "You can't always be washing." "No, I do all the mending and making,—look how my finger is pricked," said she showing it.
I had been smoothing and feeling her all over, her unwashed cunt had come in for its share of my attentions, I had been twiddling it till outside it was dry. Recurring to the never-failing, and always charming theme, I got close to her, kissed her, my fingers sought the innermost recesses of her tight little orifice. "Don't you like fucking?—does it give you pleasure?" "It never gived me much pleasure that I know on," she replied. "But you don't dislike it?" "Not if they don't hurt me." "Do they ever?" "One or two have, if they push hard,—but I shan't say no more,—there."
There was a frankness, openness, and freshness about this girl which delighted me. Question after question I put, and would be answered; if evaded I put it in another shape, but she seemed willing mostly to reply. I put into her little head things she had never dreamed of, and all the time kept rubbing her clitoris, probing her little quim, distending it, tickling it, and exciting her till she wriggled her little fat bum.
"Do I hurt you?" "Oh! no,"—"let me then,"—"oh! don't sir,—I wish you would not." "Did you never enjoy the prick up you?—never enjoy a fuck! —you shall enjoy it with me." "Don't now," said she turning herself round as I frigged on. "Feel my prick dear." She did not need a second invitation. "Is it not stiff?" "Yes, and big." "Yes,—yes,—but oh! don't sir,—take away your hand,—ah!" I talked on, frigging and tickling, my prick throbbing, but restraining myself, for instinct told me she was about to enjoy a pleasure she had never enjoyed yet. All at once she relinquished my prick, a slight heaving of her belly, and her eyes closed, then I knew she was ready to discharge.
I ceased to frig, her eyes opened, her thighs which had closed opened again. I joined my body to hers, and we were one, I fucked,—we fucked now, for the little lass in a minute or two was dissolving in pleasure whilst I was pissing my sperm up her, groaning as the tightness of her little cunt squeezed my sensitive prick. If Kitty was not a harlot before, she was from that minute she had her spend with me.
She laid quite quiet till nature dissolved our fleshy union by uncunting me, then I laid by her side, she on her back, her thighs wide open, her eyes closed.
"Don't it give you pleasure?" After repeating that half-a-dozen times she said, "I don't know." "Yes you do,—did you spend?" "I don't know what a girl's spending is," said she. "Did my prick give you pleasure,—tell me Kitty?" At length she said yes, and she had never had pleasure with men before. (Two years afterwards she repeated that the first pleasure she ever had with a man was with me.) "Wash yourself." "I'll wash when I go home." "Wash now you little beast." "What does it matter to you?" "Wash you little devil." She washed carefully, and whilst doing so, "Piddle," said I. "I can't abear to piddle before a man,—what a funny man you are." "Piddle my dear," and the little dear piddled.
Wiping herself dry she stopped in the middle of the operation and asked, "Why wouldn't you have the other gal?" "What do you want me to have her for?" "She's very poor." "What do you do with your money?" "Buy things to eat,—mother's very poor, we often ain't got enough to eat." "Then you get a little money by being gay." "I ain't gay I tell you." "Well your friend is I suppose, and gets money." "No she doesn't,—she isn't gay either,—no man ain't ever done it to her, she's such a foule,—but she would a come in to-day with you, she said she would, and she were just a comin when you sent her off,—she promised me, she'd let yer if you wanted,—but she is a foule though."
"I don't believe that." "It's God's truth though, she ain't, she says she ain't; she knows what men want gals for, but she's never let any one,—I know she ain't, she is frightened." "Have you looked at her cunt?" "Often," said Kitty. "And she's looked at yours?" "Of course she has,—she lives over us I tell you, I go up to her, and she comes down to me when mother's out,—I wash her." "You seem fond of washing." "I likes things clean." I thought for an instant, "It may be true, I should like to see her cunt if she's never been poked,—what object has this little lass in pressing this so?" Then said I, "Tell me the truth, and I'll give you another shilling,—don't lie,—I shall soon tell whether you're lying or not," and getting up, "here is three and six (I had it on the mantle-piece), here's a shilling for her, and there is another. If you answer truly, I'll see you again; but I'll never see you again if I find you are making up lies,—come here." And I sat down.
She came forward, I pulled her between my naked legs, her naked thighs met mine, her little cunt was close to my prick, I put my hand round her fat little bum, and looked her in the face, pressing her belly close to mine.
"What do you want me to have her for?" "Only cos she's so poor,—why she only gets sixpence a day,—she works at sack-making,—oh! isn't it hard!—and her hands if you seed em, are hard and brown, stained with the string, and what the works with,—mother wants me to work at them at home, but I won't—I tells her I'd run away first,—she is so little she can't carry the sacks home as other gals do; so a strong young woman who works at sacks carries them home for her, and charges her twopence for it,—they carries them home on the top of their heads; but she is too little, she is." (At that time women worked at sack-making, and carried them home on their heads.)
"Can she put her finger up her cunt?" "I shan't tell you all that," said she turning nasty. "Is her cunt as open as yours?" "No it ain't." "Then she can't get her finger up." "Oh! you are a rum cove, you are," said she breaking away from me, "I never seed the like of you. I must go,—tell me what time it is." "Half-past four." "I'll go,—I give the children something to eat about this time." "Come here, or I won't give you the shillings." We resumed our positions. "Are you sure she has never had a man?" "Never, she's such a foule,—she says she'd like to, and she'd like the money, and yet she won't,—she is such a foule." "How long have you done it?" "Only since we have lived this side of the water, after father died." "How many men have you had?" "I shan't say,—I don't recollect,—it arn't no business of yourn,—you don't like me." "Yes I like you, but I won't tell,—no it isn't a dozen,—I shan't say who first did it,—I shan't then,—it isn't a dozen,—yes I am quite sure, I don't think it's ten, but it may be about that, I think it's eight,—they didn't all do it to me, no they didn't,—one on em only put his hands up my clothes, and went off in a minute; another pulled up my clothes, and looked at me, and then he—" She stopped, and I could not get her to say what, so promised her another shilling. "I don't know what he did." "Frig himself?" "I don't know what you call it,—yes he did that," said the girl bursting into a roar of laughter when I showed her the operation. "I looked at him, and he went away without speaking,—he only gave me half-a-crown; but an old gentleman one day gave me a gold bit of ten shillings." She began counting on her fingers. I thought she was reckoning her gains, she was a long time at it, doing it over and over again; at length, "It's seven," said she. "What?" "Gentlemen,—you make eight."
"Your little friend is too young," said I. "She is fourteen, but shorter than me." "Has she any hair on her cunt?" "You can just see some coming, and it's black." "She is dirty." "No she ain't, but she was till she knew me,—she can't help her clothes being dirty, but she mends em,—how I wish I had nice clothes like the gals about at night, and like gentlefolks!" said Kitty in a sort of ecstacy, and then tossed up half-a-crown, and caught it.
I began to long for the other girl, and told her she might bring her the next day, that she should have three and sixpence, and her friend the same, and more if I did it. Kitty went off agreeing to meet me with her if their mothers were out, but if not, the day after, all depended on their mothers' absence. She would listen to the church-clock, and as it struck three she would leave; it was only by listening that she knew the time. She would put by a penny for the bridge-toll; generally she went round by Westminster bridge to avoid paying the penny. Then we left. Her little friend I found was loitering close by. They went into a pastry-cook's, and I watched them both eating together as they went along towards Waterloo bridge, Kitt and Pol.