My Secret Life

The house was kept by an old man and woman, he a carpenter almost too old, yet who went to daily work. He used to fetch gin and beer for us. There was no lodger in the house. They were a decent couple, and after a time I used to talk to the old woman, and when Mary once went away ill, she got me a beautifully shaped girl, I had offered her money to get me a girl of about fourteen years of age, a virgin. The streets about there swarmed with girls and boys who played about at night, I could hear their smutty language as they ran after each other yelling, laughing and quarrel-ling. She tried, but never could; she was not a woman who undertook that sort of thing, but the money tempted her. “There are lots of girls about”, said she, “their mothers don't care what they do, but you want a virgin,-Lor ! where's she to be found?-when they's about thirteen or fourteen years old they won't be kept in, they is about the dark streets at night, and Lor ! if you heard what I have in the streets where the costers' barrows is, of a night!” And so the old woman intimated that all the young girls of that select neighbourhood, were got into by the coster boys, and that a virginity was a rarety at fourteen years old. I afterwards groped several young girls in those dark streets, and there was certainly no obstacle to my fingers searching their cunts.

“I thinks I knows a steady little gal, whose mother's just died, her father ain't no good, and you and Mary must ask her in; I can't have nothin to do with it except gettin her here.” One day afterwards she told me she had asked the girl to tea, and that she was as curious as could be to know all about it (meaning fucking). “She knows as much as we do”, said the old woman with a chuckle. “Was far as talking goes and she would like to know as much as them as does it as well, but she is timid; there is three of them, she is the eldest, the father leaves her in charge, you shall see her.” Mary Davis had gone home ill. The girl was brought in, I sent out for gin, a nice little girl she was, and she drank some of it. The old woman then left with a wink. The girl took my kisses very well, never said a word, so getting on by degrees I talked to her about naked people, and getting children, felt her ankles and legs, then told her I woulld give her a shilling if she would feel my cock. She did not say a word, but stood still, my arm round her waist, whilst I pulled out my stiff prick. Then she bent forward curiously, whilst I put her little hand round it, and guiding it, pulled the foreskin down from the tip. Then I put my hand up her clothes, and felt her thighs and bum; but on bringing my hand to the cunt, she broke away in tears saying, “Oh I no sir, — I would rather not sir, —I'm much obliged to you sir for showing it me, and the shilling; but I would rather not sir,-oh ! let me go, let me go, — Mrs. Smith, — Mrs. Smith.” The old woman was listening, and came in instantly. “Oh! what are you doing to her?” said she in a whining tone, “what is the matter my dear? — don't cry, — oh ! you should not sir”, — and winking at me, away she went with the girl; then came back, said the girl was scared, and she feared it was no go. “But if you heared her talk, you would think she would let any man do anything with her.”

Half-an-hour afterwards the girl had composed her-self, and came back. I had more gin, the old woman again left us, the girl had another shilling, and again she felt me. I began talking to her about the parsley-bed out of which children come, and generally on the subject of generation and its working tools. “Now dear don't be alarmed (she seemed as timid as a hare), you know what a cunt is?” “Yes”, said she, “it's a nasty word,-poor mother told father he was a beast cause he said it when drunk.” “Well my dear, some-thing comes out of a man if he puts this up a cunt, and that gets children, — lay hold of my prick, and you will see”,-and guiding her little hand I frigged myself with it. But she cried out when I attempted to feel her cunt, and I never had her. The old woman said she was frightened to bring her again, that she and Mary Davis might manage it together, and when Davis came back I wished her to try, but she refused to have anything to do with it. The lech passed away, for it was but a whim. At that time I liked large well-haired cunts.