My Secret Life

After we had been in the cab a minute I kissed her, she returned it saying, “You're a cheeky one.” Soon after, — “If you'll stop here two or three minutes I'll get me a bonnet. — Where are you ataking me? I really can't stop out late. — What are you agoin to do?” — “Never mind your bonnet — I want to feel your little cunt and you to feel my prick.” — “Oho — no you shan't — you have bloomin' cheek. — I'm sorry I've comed.” — “Don't be a fool, you'll have two sovereigns.” — She chuckled and on went the cab. — “I'm hungry. — It's near my time to grub, and they'll won-der where I am.” — “I'll get you something,” and at a public, getting out but keeping her in the cab, I took her ginger beer and gin in it and two big buns. — On we drove, and then, but with much resistance, and drop-ping her bun in preventing me, I got my fingers well on a moist cunt. — After a further struggle my finger remained there which seemed to quiet her much, but she seemed offended and remarked. “I ain't that as yer thinks, I works for my living and pretty hard too.” — “You've been fucked and you live with a man.” — “No I don't, I lives with the old people.” — she didn't deny the fucking. By the time we reached the house I was hugging her closely and had felt her lubricious orifice both inside and out, as far as the position enabled me, and satisfied myself she wasn't virgin. She got again silent, seemingly thinking whilst enjoying the play of my digits on her quim. Such are lovely moments for any couple, and it was I'm sure for her, tho she seemed frightened at what she was doing.

The mistress who knew me was astounded to see a common wench without a bonnet, and in a whisper hoped all was right. She feared consequences, suspecting I'd brought a chance virgin and had made her screwed. In the bedroom the girl curious — as all such as — looked everywhere. — “It's a baudy shop, ain't it?” — “Yes, take off your things.” — “No.” She resisted that earnestly as a half modest girl would, but longing to see her notch, I pushed her on the bed and then her clothes up. “Oh now, I won't.” A more dingy sight of petticoats and chemise I don't recollect, but her fat backside, plump thighs, and smooth belly were white and clean, and the prettiest little notch lay between them. Crisp, curly, short hair surrounded a delicate coral stripe, not much was on the motte, and it looked most enticing, was the charming cunt of sixteen. She was a little over sixteen. A cunt is in its highest beauty at about that age, I now think, tho in my youth I loved them larger and very hairy.

I produced my pego which she quietly admired long — and I felt sure from her looks she hadn't seen many — in delicious silence. Soon after she handled it whilst my finger titillated her. — “Do you want it?” — No, said she wriggling. “Let me fuck you.” — “No,” said she squirming about — then quickly after. — “Oh! — Don't — aha — shove it in,” — murmured she very vulgarly. In a second we were fucking at the bedside, she was full and randy, and soon we spent in unison. She was young, artless, hot blooded, sighed much, and gave way freely to her pleasure. — My prick lingered in her long whilst I looked down at her white belly and thighs, and anon at her dirty linen. But the lovely con-junction ceased, the evidences of our pleasure rolled out, and I pushed up her thighs, holding them apart to admire the pearly issue. Then she washed her cunt giving a mere outside sluice, and spite of her struggles, I washed her cunt outside again myself and much to her astonishment. — Had she been a strumpet she'd have washed it up enough. Her washing in fact showed she was not habitually gay, and her pleasure in seeing my pego, and a shyness of manner, made me sure she was no harlot. “Has no one washed your cunt but yourself?” “Lord no — what do you think — what did you want to do it for?” — “For pleasure.” — “Ho — ho — I must go.” — “You shan't yet, get naked and so will I.” — “Oho, no — there then, I won't do that.” — “Have you never been naked to a man?” — “Never, but only to my own chap.” — He'd first had her when sixteen, she said. He had a cart, was getting on, but drank much.