My Secret Life

I gently moved to look at her; her legs were wide open, her gown and chemise (all the clothing she had on) up to her navel, her cunt showed a red streak, my spunk was slowly oozing out, streaked with blood, a little was on her chemise; but I looked in vain for that sanguinary effusion which I saw on Charlotte's chemise and on my shirt when I last had her; and, from later experience, think that young girls do not bleed as much as full grown women, when they lose their virginity. Her cunt, as I found from ample inspection afterwards, was lipped like her sister's; the hair, about half an inch long, scarcely covered the mons, and only slightly came down the outer lips, her thighs were plump and round, her calves big for her age; she was clean in her flesh, but alas thick blue stockings with holes and darns, bit boots with holes at the sides, a dirty ragged chemise, dark garters below the knees, made an ugly spectacle compared with the clean whiteness of Charlotte's linen.

But the sight took effect, my prick had her blood on it, quietly I slid my finger up her cunt, it made her restless, she moved her legs together, shutting my hand in them; she turned on her side, and showed a plump white bum, over one side of which a long streak of bloody sperm had run. I pulled her on to her back and got on to her, then she awakened struggling and called out loudly, but I was heavy on her, my prick at her cum's mouth, and I pushed it up until it could no further, whilst she kept calling out, I was hurting her.

'Be quiet, I can't hurt you, my prick is right up you,' said I, beginning the exercise, She made no reply, her cunt seemed deliciously small, whenever I pushed deep, she winced as if in pain, I tried to thrust my tongue into her mouth, but she resisted it. Suddenly she said, “Oh! go away, Sarah will be home and find us.” I had my second emission, and went to sleep with my prick up he. I was groggy. She slept also. I awakened, got up tired with heat, excitement, drink and fucking. She got up, and sat on the side of the bed, half sobered but stupid, dropped a sovereign, and did not attempt to pick it up. I did, and put it back into her hands; she took it without saying a word. When buttoned up, I asked her what she was going to do, but all the reply I could get was, “You go now.” I went into the kitchen, banged the door, but held the latch, the door remained ajar, and I peeped through.

She sat perfectly still so long, that I thought she was never going to move; then sat down on the chair and laid her head against the bed, looking at the sovereigns at intervals; then put them down, put her hand up her petticoats carefully feeling her cunt, looked at her fingers, burst into tears, sat crying for a minute or two, then put a basin with water on to the floor, and, unsteady, partially upset it, but managed to wash, and got back on to the chair, leaving the basin where it was. Then she pulled up the front of her chemise and looked at it, again put her fingers to her cunt, looked at them, again began crying, and leaned her head against the bed, all in a drowsy, tipsy manner. Whilst so engaged, her sister knocked and I let her in; she looked at me in a funny way; I nodded; she went into the bedroom and closed the door, but I heard most of what was said.

“What are you sitting there for?” No reply. “What's that basin there for?” No reply. “You have been washing your grummit?” No reply. “What have you been washing it for?” “I was hot.” “Why, you have been on the bed!” “No, I ain't.” “You have, with he.” “No, I ain't.” “I know he have, and been atop a you, just as he were atop on me this morning.” “No, he ain't” Then was a long crying fit. Sarah said, “What's the good of crying, you fool, no one ain't going to tell, I shan't, and the old man won't know.” Then their voices dropped, they stood together, but I guessed she was asking what I had given her. Then I went in. “You have done it to my sister,” said Sarah. 'No,” said I. “Yes you have,” and to Martha crying, 'Never mind, it's better to be done by a gent than by one of them mill-hands, I can't abear 'em; leave off, don' t be a fool.” I went out of the room,

Sarah followed me, and I gave her the two sovereigns. 'You know,” she said, “some one would ha done it to her; one of them mill-hands, or Smith would, he's allus after her, and I knows he got his hands upon her.”

Fred went up to London next day, and I was at the cottage soon after; the girls were there, the elder grinned, the younger looked queer, and would not go to the bedroom. “Don't be a fool,” said the elder, and soon we were alone together there. Half force, half entreaty got her on to the bed, I pulled up her clothes, forced open her legs, and lay for a minute with my belly to hers in all the pleasure of anticipation, then rose on my knees for a close look. My yesterday's letch seized me, I put my mouth to her cunt and licked it, than put my prick up the tight little slit and finished my enjoyment.