My Secret Life

“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 your-self.” “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, frig- ging 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.