That day I kissed the slut, gave her a trifling present, and felt up to her navel. She let me readily, even seemed complimented by my attention. — H. was present. — “There's no hair on your dear little cunt.” “Not yet,” she replied — I had then one of those long exciting preliminary, baudy, inductive conversations, — so very delicious with an unpoked girl, and equally delicious to her. — “You know what fucking is, don't you my darling?” — “No,” said she hanging her head and looking confused — “What a lie,” said H. — “You've seen gentlemen doing it to your sister.” — “Oh” said the lass. At length she confessed it. Then I felt freely all about her hidden charms, my hands roved up and down, I insinuated a finger between her thighs closed tightly, but it rubbed between the lips of the grove, and brought away the female aroma. Ah me how nice is the smell of cunt, which some fools say isn't nice. — She was sitting on my knee, I wanted to see her naked but that she refused, I pulled up her clothes, she pushed them down, whining. H. winked at me. “Your cunt smells so nice,” said I. — “You're a nasty man” she replied, coloring up and looking at H.
“Let me another day, dear.” Then as customary, I gave money to buy shoes and stockings. Having felt her till my cock was restive, I began caressing H*** “Come and look at your mistress' cunt.” — H. favored me, for our conversation had made her lewed, she turned on to the bed and about, and let me look at her cunt. Then the girl after a little persuasion felt H's cunt. — We had wine, I gamahuched H., the girl got tight with the drink and also gamahuched her, then I again made H. spend and again with my lingual titillation until she was well-nigh exhausted with spending, and then fucked her twice at the side of the bed, letting the girl see my prick go in and out, and I taught her to play with my balls. — Never had a lass seen so much I think in about three hours. We had a deliciously baudy treat, and at the end half screwed, laughingly she admitted that she too should like to be fucked. Odd if she hadn't, for her modesty had gone to the winds, had been going before she came to H. and our talk and acts would have made the coldest virgin randy, and her cunt hot and reeking with lubricious juices. — This girl in whose eyes was lust, who kissed me again and again when I left — tho still resisting a look at her privates — was dying to let me, tho I left without doing it.
Next visit, H. told me that since my absence, she had been gamahuched by the lass who loved doing it, and she'd again frigged the lass who was longing to be fucked. — “Give her a sovereign, and she will let you.” — So I began kissing and coaxing her, but she had such a bad cold in her head and wanted her pocket handkerchief so often, that she was unpleasant to me, so much so that desire for her was chilled, I never could bear a snotty-nosed female.
I tried to evoke my lust by a frig and other devices uselessly. I thought of my impotence with the former little lass and fear came over me of similar trouble. I fancied my prick shrunk, felt it and whispered to H. “I shall not be able to fuck her I'm sure.” — “Nonsense, don't think so — can't you fuck me three times nearly every time you come to see me? — Why can't you fuck her then? — Nonsense — don't think about it” — was H.'s reply. But it was so — the result of the girl's bad cold in the first place, and then a fearful, ridiculous nervousness, thro thinking about my former frigidity.
Next visit she had neat stockings and shoes on — my gift. — “Let's look at your little cunt, darling.” — H. had prepared her for the request, and the girl got slowly on to the bed. “Pull up your clothes,” said I, liking to see her do that. — With hesitation slowly up she pulled them, — “Higher darling” but she stopped, and I pulled her chemise up above her navel. I was enraptured with breaking down her modesty, with making a supposed virgin expose herself so much. Then I looked long and lasciviously. She was a nice little creature, not plump but not bony, nor did I feel any prominences as I ran my hand over her from her nascent bubbies to her thighs. Then dropping on my knees by the bedside, I opened wide her thighs and saw the delicate pink grove. All was well washed and sweet — H. took care of that.
