“The dress is mine.” • How to get it made up. • Sarah’s advice. • Sarah’s greed. • Change withheld. • The girl’s disappointment. • Shilling seductions. • A maker promised. • Conditions of payment. • A strange cunt in the dark. • Funking and bolting. • A broken bottle. • Who was she? • Sarah’s device. • Three in a bed. • An assault resisted. • Between thighs. • Virginity ruptured. • Baudy blasphemy. • A sore cunt. • Sanguinary proofs. • Second entry and first pleasure. • Three hours’ felicity. • On the devine nature of human genitals. • The sanctity of copulation. • Phallic statues. • Wisdom, worship, and reverence. • I leave my shirt.

As my dripping doodle left her cunt, Sarah rose. The silk was on the pillow. Lizzie turned her head. — “The silk is yours,” said I. She scrambled up and took it in her arms. “It’s mine isn’t it? — how beautiful. Oh how soft.” She put it down suddenly. “Hob! he’s hurt me — he had done something to me.” Fear on her face and looking at Sarah. — “I’m wet, I’m bleeding. — Ohoo.” Turning her back she put her hand up her chemise and felt her cunt. — Sarah laughed, pulled up Lizzie’s chemise and looked. “It’s nothing but his licking you, and his spunk — I told you what came out from men’s pricks — wash it — never mind the doctor, you won’t mind him now.” Down the girl sat and washed her quim. There are not many virgins have had a man’s sperm on their cunts, without having had a prick inside it, but she had. — “It’s made me want another poke,” said Sarah. The girl stood looking at the silk, opened it, folded it up, put her lips to it, forgot her cunt, and took no notice of any one. Then she pulled a piece in front of her, turned round, and looking at Sarah, said as if the idea had only just struck her, “But how am I to get it made up?” “I’ll pay for it if you let me fuck you,” I replied.

She turned her back to me and said to Sarah, “Can’t you cut it out?” “No.” Silently the girl again and reflectingly stood looking at the silk.

“It’s mine, ain’t it?” said she at length. “Of course.” “I’ll put it in my box may I?” “Of course.” “It’s beautiful, I can make it up if you cut it out.” “I can’t cut out my own.” “What am I to do,” said Lizzie, looking quite dismayed. “Get more money, then have a dressmaker.” “I have only got eight shillings.” — Then the girl turned again and looked at the dress — she had never looked at me, so absorbed was she in her acquisition. Giving a sigh as she wrapped it up in paper, she pulled a small box from under the bed — took a key from her pocket — unlocked it, put the silk in, locked it again, turned round, looked first at me and then at Sarah over and over again. “It ain’t no use till it’s made” — and with a sigh went into the sitting room. My prick was still hanging out as she passed me.

Sarah closed the door and laughed. “She will let you have her, if she can’t get money to make that dress up — it won’t be long first.”

I was wild with desire, for her cunt almost lipless, and of light pink tint, between her white thighs, and with but a suspicion of hair on the motte, had made me lewed beyond all description — I wanted to get into her at once. Sarah said I might try. “But it will be useless, and you’ve spent twice — wait a day, she’ll be wild to get it made up, and if she can’t she will let you fuck her — but I am frightened of those damned girls on the stairs.”

Then Sarah begged me to let her have five pounds, she was so hard up — I let her have it. I had made her presents every night for my entertainment, so she was making money — I was sure there was something wrong between her and her man — or some one.

In the parlour the girl was sitting thinking. We had more ale — I sent her out for soda water. Then we talked about her. — “Some men if they had such a chance would give fifty pounds,” said Sarah. “You don’t know any one who would or you wouldn’t have got her for me. — She’ll cost me a good deal yet before I get into her.” “You will have her soon, don’t give her the change next time.”

Lizzie brought the soda water, and her face grew dull as I put the change into my pocket. Unobserved she left the room — Sarah noticed it. “I’ll bet she is at the silk.” She went thro the passage into the bedroom, and came back. “Come softly.” Going to the door I saw the girl looking at the silk, which she had spread out on the bed, in silent admiration of it, and soon she came back to the sitting room looking quite glum.

I toyed with her, promised a shilling to shew me her garters. — She let me and took the shilling. — I’d give her another shilling to feel her bum.

“No, I won’t.” But my hand was on it almost before she’d refused — and letting it rest there, she grabbed the second shilling. “Another just to feel that little cunt I have licked to night.” “Oh no.” The legs close, the bum goes back, but I feel it. — “Oh no now, Surr.” Her resistance ceases, my hand roves over the smooth belly, scratches in the moss, rubs the top of her split, and a shilling does it — money, omnipotent money!

It was but five days since I saw her first. Had she any clear idea that I had frigged out my spunk on to her cunt? (I knew later on that she hadn’t.) Modesty was going — lewed notions had come — pride of dress sprung up — and when I said, “If you’ll let me fuck you I’ll make your dress up, and give you a bonnet and parasol,” I had said enough to keep her awake till she saw me again. — Sarah told her again that night that the pleasure of a prick up her cunt was greater than she’d had when I licked it. It’s the old old story, the old old way.

Next night taking ale with me I rang the second floor bell as I thought, for the door was closed, but in error rang that of the first or third floor. The door opened, a short female stood in the dark. Putting down the bag as she shut the door, I put one hand up her clothes and puffing her to me kissed her. As my lips met hers, my hand touched a well haired cunt. It was all done in half a second. The girl or woman, which ever it was, screamed loudly and ran to the stairs; I snatched up my bag and opening the door bolted — whilst she, as I afterwards heard, ran up the stairs yelling. It was a pitch dark night and she’d no candle luckily, but that class never go to the door with a candle. The instant I felt the hair of the cunt, I knew it was a mistake and not Lizzie. I did not go back that night, and wondered what had been the result of my assault. I dropped a line to Sarah, who met me out next night very late, as I went home from a dinner; and told her what had happened. She had heard a woman hollow but that was all she knew. She thought it was a lodger quarrelling, and afterwards that it was one of the girls of the family she so much objected to. — We talked over their ages, and came to the conclusion that none of them had cunts fledged like the one I had felt. She called out “Mother,” I had thought. I knocked my bag hard against the door as I ran off, and broke a bottle of ale — Sarah had wondered at my not arriving.

This affair made us uncomfortable, and Sarah anxious for me to finish. The girl was wild about the dress. Sarah said that the best thing was to get into bed with her. They’d both go to bed early next night. She was to get up and let me in if the street door was shut, and go to bed again — I was then to get into bed with them.

The street door was open, and after waiting a minute in the passage, in fear lest the other female should appear, I went up and knocked at Sarah’s door. “Who’s that?” “It’s I” — Sarah opened it. “Who’d have thought of seeing you, we are both in bed.” She retreated to the bed room and got into bed again, Lizzie was in bed by her side. “Who’d have expected you to be in bed at this time. — I’ll get into bed with you.” “There is lots of room,” said she, and it really was a very large bed.

“What have you got in the bag?” “Ale, but you can’t drink ale.” “I can.” “I was going to send for wine.” “I can go,” said the girl. She saw, I fancy, the change in her pocket. — “It’s of no use making you get up, so we will drink ale, go and get the corkscrew.” The girl hesitated. “Go — your night gown is clean,” said Sarah. She fetched it, leaving us in the dark for the moment. “Get into bed and do her — if she won’t let you, I’ll hold her — don’t give her a minute to think about it. — We’ve been talking about fucking the last hour, and she will do anything to get the dress made up,” said Sarah hurriedly.

The girl brought the corkscrew, and really looked lovely in her night dress. — “Come to bed,” said Sarah. “Piddle before you get in, Liz,” said I. “She’s just piddled.” “Do you dry your cunt after piddling.” “Oho,” said Liz as she got into bed. I took a chair to the bed-side, opened the bottle, and they both had ale whilst we talked baudiness. “Have you got your dress made?” “No sir, it will cost such a lot.” “I’ll pay for it, and give you a new bonnet and parasol as well, if you let me.” Her face was a study. She looked partly bewildered, partly delighted. Then her face grew blank, and she laid down silently.

“Let me see your cunt again and I’ll give you half a crown.” I had made up my mind now to do her, but it suspiciously occurred to me that since I had seen her quim she might have been fucked by some one —her virginity sold to some one else by Sarah — “I won’t.” “You little fool,” said Sarah, “when he has seen it and licked it. — You don’t want your dress I suppose.” — The girl who was lying on her back turned to Sarah. “I don’t like letting him.”

“Let him, he’s already seen it,” and she pulled down the bed clothes. There was her pretty round white rump towards me — Sarah gave her a gentle push and she lay on her back, and her night clothes Sarah pulled up. “Look, Doctor.” The girl did not resist or speak. I seized the candle, Sarah pulled open the girl’s thighs, and I opened the delicate little split, and saw that it looked just as it had before, but her position was not favourable for inspection. I kissed it rapturously and told her how I loved her. I licked her little clitoris with difficulty, she broke away, and in doing so, knocked the candle out of my hand and we were in darkness — Sarah swore, got out, lighted the candle, and got into bed again.

“What are you going to do, Doctor?” “Going to bed.” “What a lark. It will be a close fit.” “I mean to sleep here.” Rapidly undressing and naked, I got in to bed next to Liz, and in the twinkling of an eye was cuddling her. Oh, the delight of that delicate little naked form touching my flesh everywhere. “Go away now — you shan’t,” she said as I squeezed up to her. But her efforts were useless. I had lifted her smock, and her naked body was against mine every where. She got closer to Sarah. — That only made more room for me. Her bum was against my belly, my prick against her bum valley. What a delicious position. — My hand reaching over her haunch felt her little nick. She restless and denying me, Sarah advising, “Let him, — don’t be a fool.”

I could not get at her well, so drew back and forced my hand under her bum and between her thighs. — “Oh! he’s a hurting me. Oh — do — not, — don’t let him, Missus — don’t.” — My hand then went to her front, then again to her back, and then roved all over her from neck to knees. Closer and closer she got to Sarah — I laid hold of her little hand, and pulling it back on to my prick, kept it there. Sarah spoke about fucking. The girl now lay silent — her hand was firmly held by mine around my prick, she now unconscious to all but sexual wants I expect. No wonder. Her clitoris had been well previously rubbed by Sarah, Scotch ale and lewed talk had warmed her. She was in a mood which Sarah knew better than I, who only knew my own want, but felt by instinct that she would resist no longer. — Then Sarah sat up. “You two are better without me — you will be love-making in a minute and fucking.” So saying she stepped over us and quitted the room.

“Don’t go,” cried the girl clutching at Sarah’s chemise. I threw my hand round her — my leg over her — my body following pressed her back, and before Sarah had well left the room, she was on her back and I on her belly.

I was so lewed by abstinence, so full of sperm, which was almost boiling in my ballocks that I feared I should spend before I had her — Sarah told me all afterwards for she listened. — I was on the girl’s belly, her legs were closed, mine outside. “Open your legs dear — let me put my prick in — when you know what pleasure fucking is, you’ll want it night and day.” — I promised dresses, theatres, even to keep her, and everything else,

but she kept her legs closed. It is doubtful if she recollected what I said, for she never told me of many promises afterwards. She was now under the spell of the prick — lewedness and curiosity well filled her, she wanted the prick but feared it, and when she didn’t think of that, she thought only of her new dress made up. What mixed sensations.

The strongest woman cannot keep her legs closed against the man’s knees when he is well on top of her and his arms round her. His legs are sure to open hers. — With one knee I forced her legs apart, the other knee followed, and I was between hers. “Oh — don’t you” — my prick went between her thighs as my belly closed on hers and struck blindly anywhere outside her cunt.

It was a heavenly moment when I thought that my prick would go where never prick had gone yet. Pressing heavily on her, I felt for the slit and lodged the top of my prick there — Ram — Ram — Ram. — “Oho get off.” I was coming, and thought I could not be on the right line, so put down my hand and pushing it brutally on to her cunt hurt her, and she cried aloud. — Sarah outside at the room door called out, “Don’t make that row.” My prick was now well lodged in the middle, and with all the force and weight of my thighs, arse, and belly, I thrust; and as I was told by Sarah for I don’t recollect it, blaspheming like a trooper. “Cunt — ballocks — spunk —fuck you — c — c —cunt.” I had done it and spent as soon as my prick entered. She moaned as my hot prick got right up her. Coming to myself, there stood Sarah in her chemise watching us. — She had come in when the girl cried out, and saw and heard the consummation.

It is a heavenly sensation to recover from the pleasure, and assure yourself of the journey you have made up a fresh girl — I seemed to awake in Elysium. — “Do you like it?” — I heard a rattle. It was Sarah piddling. Keeping the girl tight to me I fell asleep — Sarah had gone back into the parlour.

I awakened very soon. She had barely moved. I felt her cunt, my fingers were smeared with blood and semen. I pulled down the bed clothes and saw her chemise was bloody — I recollect scarcely any girl of her age who bled so much. — She was exhausted, and took another glass of ale. Sarah, whom I called, came in, winked at me, and we scarcely spoke for half an hour. I felt Liz all over but couldn’t get a word out of her, until asking if she did not want to piddle, she said she did. I have noticed that a woman always pisses a lot soon after her defloration.

“Piddle, my darling, never mind me.” She got out, and on to the pot, put her head against the side of the bed and moaned. Leaning on my elbow looking at her in voluptuous contemplation, and twiddling my prick up to her readiness for another turn. “Come to bed,” I said — she didn’t. — How I gloried at the sight of the red on her chemise. “You will have my dress made up, won’t you.” “Yes darling.” “You said you’d give me a bonnet.” “So I will.” “You said a parasol.” “So I will.” “I am so glad.” — She stooped down and opened her trunk under the bed. — “Oh, isn’t it beautiful,” said she taking out the silk. I will go and show it to the Missus.” — Off she went to Sarah with it.

They came back together. What vanity at such a moment! She’d forgotten all about fucking. “Come to bed.” “No.” She was sore. Sarah told her to wash her cunt, and she did, after a sort of command in which Sarah joined, I looked at the orifice my prick had made. The difference of half an hour in her sexual organ delighted me. The bleeding split, I would that I could have photographed it, but it is photographed on my brain. — Her cunt looked inflamed and it delighted me to hear her say it felt burning hot. Said Sarah, “You’ll want to fuck again directly.” — The very idea of hurting her delighted me — the blood on her chemise made my cock stiffen. “Look at my prick, this is what burst thro your cunt.” She looked long and fixedly at it. She got into bed, but would not let me do it. Sarah, saying she was tired, got into bed telling Liz she’d have pleasure the next time, but the girl refused saying, “It’s too big.” — She kept asking what sort of parasol it would be, and the colour of her bonnet. At last I could not contain myself. Wetting my finger well, I felt up her little cunt forcibly, for persuasion was of no use. Sarah, on feeling my stiff stander, said, “Let the doctor.” She wouldn’t. “Then I’ll fuck Sarah.” Said Sarah, “I’m dying for it.” I got over Liz but did not mean that, and when passing dropped on to her, forcing open her legs with my knees.

“O doant’ee, Sir, you’ll hurt me,” she cried so loudly, that Sarah, “Be quiet for God sake, they’ll hear you all over the house.” — Then she was silent. I laying in tranquil voluptuousness on her, my pego now not quite ready, dangling against the lovely little gap, and gradually swelling up to its duty. Then gently feeling the smooth and bleeding surface, and wetting it with spittle (for she’d washed away my sperm from its outside) I softly inserted my prick, and with gentle pushes sought the innermost depths of her cunt — “Ohoo —Ohoo — Ohoo.” — She moaned, and that was all. With my stiff prick thus sheathed deeply in her dear little ravished bleeding cunny, I lay tranquilly without moving, letting her feel the stretch, the heat, the tingle which the contact of the male tool gives the female receptacle; and awaiting its reciprocally sensual tightening and grip on mine.

Soon her cunt constricted — that involuntary tightening — Ah! that I could taste the voluptuousness which the woman feels when her cunt closes thus round the prick. — A second’s pause, again a clip, then another move of my prick, another squeeze of her cunt. “Ah-ar —ahar,” she sighed quietly, and I knew that the divine pleasure was stealing through her senses. Gently I probed on, pulling it out slowly to its tip, then slowly pushing it up again. “Arhar” — “ahrr,” sighed Lizzie. Then I pushed hard. — “Oh don’t.” Gently again I probed. “Isn’t fucking lovely, Liz?” “Ahrr — Ahrr — oho ahrr.” “She likes it,” said Sarah whom I had for-gotten. — Now with baudy instinct, out went a hand to Sarah’s hairy quim. She was frigging herself. Again Lizzie’s buttocks had my double clasp, her cunt felt wetter — my prick glided more easily, I kissed her — I lunged, then faster, harder, faster. “Aha,” she sighed and her limbs moved sympathetically. Sarah frigged herself vigorously. Sighing out “Fuck her — shove your prick up her — make her spend — isn’t it nice, Liz? — Oh — prick — spunk — ballocks,” sighed Sarah in her ecstasy. — “Aha — ahaa a, ” and Lizzie’s sighs came sharp and quick, and nature made her writhe and wriggle her sweet little belly and bum, as now quicker I moved my prick up and down in her, throbbing to emit its sperm.

Then nestling it close up to her womb, with gentle thrusts hitting its portals, out spurted the impregnating, life giving, creative fluid of my testicles. Out from my swollen, turgid pego gushed my blood’s essence — my sperm — my seed. Thick and copiously it gushed out, whilst in loving unison with my precious flood came Lizzie’s vaginal juices, issuing from every pore, from every duct of her lovely sheath. Our sexual essences mingled in her cunt, whilst still my prick drove gently to and fro in it, midst mutual spasms of ecstatic pleasure, and murmurs of delight in the throes of fucking — in joys which those of Paradise cannot excel. — Oh! Divine function of nature! You O man to inject the precious life giving sperm into the cunt. — You O woman to receive, absorb the lubricious liquid of the prick, and fructify it in your womb.

Yet this divine function, this coupling of the man and woman in the supremest ecstasy of mind and body. This sexual conjunction, this fucking, which is the foundat on and the stay of love between the sexes. This act which may form and give life to a sentient being, to a being with a soul, to one partaking of the ethereal life — of the Divine essence. This act which by the law of nature may create in God’s own image a being with a soul to be hereafter by him either blessed or damned in all eternity. This act of mighty power and eternal endowments is called foul, bestial, abominable! It may not be mentioned or talked about. — Yea, even when the law has sanctioned it, and the Priest has blest it, it may not be even hinted at in public! Nor may the sexual organs, those blessed implements of coition with which the pleasure is got, and the act is done, be named or alluded to. — Age after age has wasted its thoughts in inventing words ro refer to the act and its organs which shall puzzle and perplex as to their meaning, but which are called for the time decent, under the false notion that the penis and pudenda are indecent, filthy things. Yet thoughts about the use of these organs or the sensations they afford are ever present to the senses, and a delight to both sexes in health. The hopes of earthly happiness are mainly derived from them, and without their function life is worthless. — Yet this grave inevitable necessity of life is thought obscene! Has the creator made this necessity of our existence foul and obscene? Is it not to blaspheme him to say that it is so?

We who know so little of the beginning or the end of all things instead of calling the sexual organs and their conjunction foul and obscene should rather sing loud paeans in praise of them, for they are emblems of the Creator, and fucking is obedience to his laws, and is worship of him.

Then in that big bed, in that Paphian’s chamber all was quiet. — Sarah on her back with eyes closed, her lust satisfied by her own hand. — Lizzie in sleepy voluptuous lassitude, with spermatized, bleeding, lubricated cunt, and the spermatizer still laying within its juicy folds. All her pain was over — only the soft pleasure from her semenalized absorbent organ was stealing through her senses. The languor of the spasm of pleasure was on her. Was she thinking of my prick, as I was of her cunt, as I lay over and up her, my prick softening, lulled in the seminal bath of our joint mucilage, and wishes steal through my brain at such moments as this, and why not through the brain of Lizzie. — Man and woman are joint participants in the sexual pleasure. and in the voluptuous thoughts which are the cause and consequence. Such minutes are paradise in life, are heaven before life has left us.

After an hour’s repose — not sleep but repose idly lying between the two women. Now feeling one cunt, now the other, both cunts moist with recent pleasure. Now looking at, now feeling the still bleeding quim of Liz, now feeling Sarah’s hirsute full sized gap, and after Sarah had looked at Liz’s — and Liz had looked at Sarah’s cunt — and we had kissed all round voluptuously, and we had talked of fucking incessantly and Liz had felt my prick, and I had gently frigged her to incipient pleasure, and Sarah had done a little frigging to the girl, and had titillated her own cunt as well, I mounted and fucked Lizzie again. Again the sweet lass mingled her genital juices with mine, in now a long voluptuous fucking, whilst Sarah with louder ejaculations of lust than before again spent with the aid of her fingers; rubbing my backside, feeling my balls, fingering my bum hole with one hand, whilst the other she brought herself to sexual ecstasy.

Then after an hour’s repose, with some effort I fucked again, and arose from the warm, steaming, blood and sperm splashed couch. It was late. Finding my shirt covered with sperm and blood, I left it to be washed there, and went home without one. — I was alone in my house then, and for a week could do what I liked without its being noticed, and I slept delighted, and rejoicing in my evening, and the little cunt I had deflorated.