It is needless to tell more about this amour, the only novelty was in opening up her quim to masculine pleasure. She soon left H*l*n and took to whoring with her sister, who had also her cunt plugged before she was fourteen. H*** was no doubt right when she said that some one was sure to fuck the lass soon. Harlot she wanted to be and was. Whether a girl in her condition of life has it at fourteen, or postpones it till sixteen, the end is the same, she merely has two years more frigging instead of fucking. Physically and morally which is the worst — or best? — Both are natural and according to some notions improper — to talk, think or write about copulation, or to do anything with our genitals is always highly improper to some people. — Yet we were created with cock and cunt, and sperm, for that alone, live indeed for that alone. — All males and females think and talk about it constantly and fuck as much as they can. — “How improper,” say some fools and hum-bugs. This law of nature will make them fuck without permission of priest, registrar, or law, for the multiplication of the species comes about by this very improper act, called fucking.
[Thinking over this episode — one day I wrote the following about “Virginities.”
[How much alike is all this amatory work, varying only broadly in the preliminaries, — less and less in de-tail as familiarity increases. — How soon the time comes when full opportunity occurs. — Introduction civilities, liking, and then desire springs up in the man or woman, or both. It is contagious. — Then cautious advances of the man, tentative remarks, almost instinctive at times- - at other times designed. Pride in the man's attentions and flattery soothes the woman, and the road to surrender is paved. In him now lust rises, hope springs up, then come warmer and suggestive words. — Were not man and woman made to give each other pleasure? — how many give each other pleasure in secret — the world knows nothing of it, — it's easy enough to accomplish. — Why not we? — to kiss, to cuddle, how sweet to both — how lovely is the touch of naked flesh with naked flesh — nice even when palm meets palm but only to be fully tasted when in bed. — “Let us.” — “Oh! fie! — I don't know what you mean. — Oh! how rude you are” — and she blushes, tries to look offended, yet half smiles with downcast eyes.
[She liked to hear these hints — suggestions of conjugality and its pleasure — tho she forbids. Luxurious thoughts now arise, chasing each other thro her brain. Is it more pleasure than frigging herself, she thinks. — Desires — complicated at first by such thoughts and fears and prudence, arise. Ah! a thrill passes through her, starting from her centre of bliss. Again and again that voluptuous thrill, — that half faint feeling as her cunt again sends forth those carnal waves of desire, desire not precise in its wants but indefinite, softly languishing. — Lust with its soothing, brain stealing voluptuous sensations, is working her body and soul for its end, and she thinks of fucking. They look into each other's eyes, male instinct tells him of her carnal wants, and his lust burns fiercely.
[Then further talk and broader hints of the sweets of connection — two joined in one. A pressure of the palms, a kiss, a hug round the waist — closer together they now, limbs meeting, their warmth of flesh mingling. Does lustful aroma issue from one or from both as prick and cunt inflame. — French writers say it does and steeps the senses, and deadens prudence. — Certainly never does woman's flesh smell to me so sweetly, so excitingly as now — her lustful aromas rise from neck, and armpits, from the hair of her head issues sexual perfume. Then acts follow words. — “Let me. — What a lovely ankle.” — “Oh! take your hand away.” — up steals his hand above the garter and the warm soft flesh of thigh is felt. — Up starts his prober hard as horn, lustful — heated pulsations moving it: It nods with lust. — A thrust of hand — a cry. — “Oh — don't.” — A struggle and his fingers touch her clitoris. — “Oh! now. — Leave off — I'll scream.” — But his finger keeps there. — “Ah — oho — what a shame.” — The struggle is over, her voice sinks lower to a whining murmur — no screech follows the threat. — Both murmur softly now, “let me.” — “No.” — “I won't hurt you — let me fuck you.” — “No.” — His hand goes further back below the clitoris, touches the portcullis of her womb, and then she struggles hard!. — All useless, maiden.
