VOLUME 6 CHAPTER 5
After breakfast. • An inspection of Rosa. • Her figure, face, and pudenda. • An expensive room. • A frig stopped. • Looking- glasses not appreciated. • She feels my sperm. • Fresh lodgings. • Conversations on fucking. • Her youthful knowledge. • Stiff pricks in little boys. • Precocity in young girls. • Opportunities in the humble classes. • I make notes of the intrigue. • Her suspicions. • Clothes bought her. • My pleasure with her, and her indifference. • Her relatives written to. • She goes to them. • Her brief letter. • Full-grown Paphians • Their cunts compared with Rosa’s.
We breakfasted (sent in from a restauranteur’s), she in night-gown, I in my night-shirt. — Then I made her wash her cunt, setting her example by stripping naked, and washing my ballocks ostentatiously. Then I would see her cunt, about which we again had a squabble, but it was done, and with my complete inspection of the red chink, most of her feminine reserve went. When a girl has been felt, fucked, her cunt has been looked at, and she has pissed and washed before me, she belongs to me entirely. Modesty is dead henceforth, and unrestrained voluptuousness begins. There is intense de-light in destroying modesty in a virgin. It is the joy of the honeymoon. But complete voluptuousness can only be had, when all modesty in both man and woman has gone, and they give themselves up to all libidinous amusements which love suggests. She. was well grown, tho not so tall as many at her age, full in thighs and haunches, had lovely calves, and a little foot. Her breasts were very big for her age, and quite beautiful in their swell and firmness. Her cunt had the beauty of youth. There was very little hair on it of a nice brown colour, short, crisp, and curly. The lips were small and firm, and set in plenty of nice flesh, there was ample room between her thighs. The clitoris was very small, the inner lips the same, the mons was full. Altogether a lovelier cunt I have rarely seen. I looked at it hourly almost till we parted, and begin to think that I like young cunts. A wide spread thatch between thighs and navel indicates too much, the full sized orifice below it. The smaller and more delicately fledged mons looks more modest, and shadows a more delicate tint, a smaller split and a tighter channel. But most sorts have their charm. At one time one sort pleases, at other times another.
Her face was handsome. Her nose had the slightest turn upwards at the tip, she had lovely teeth, and chestnut coloured, long, and silky hair. Her eyes were of a peculiar grey, and did not seem to accord with the rest of her face; they had a stern, resolute look in them, and I didn’t like the expression. There was courage, discontent, and sorrow in them. As she got lewed, I noticed that they softened to an almost angelic expression. I found that out the second night, when I frigged her nearly to a spend, and it so delighted me, that I took to fucking her much at the bedside, so that I might see her face. She trembled as she spent, and breathed then with a slight catch in it, in a way which gave me much pleasure. Her cunt was unusually tight, and fetched me quickly. Altogether as a partner in love’s pastimes, she was exquisite; but I think that a small quantity of fucking satisfied her.
The contemplation of her form, and lovely cunt, above all of the ragged edge left by the split of her virginity, drove me wild with lust. Again I kissed it, smelt it, fingered it, probed it, tickled the little clitoris, and at last licked it to her amazement, but did not make her spend, and then did the same things over again. I made her examine my prick and appendages, pull the prepuce off and on, frig it to a stand, and did all that nature dictated for sexual pleasure and amusement. — “Shall we fuck, Rosa?” — said I. — “If you like,” — tractable enough now. — On to the bed we got. — “My darling, I’ll frig you.” — Soon it was “Don’t do that.” — “What then?” — She wouldn’t reply. — “Put it up your cunt.” — “Yes,” — said she quietly. Up it went and soon we were both in heaven in each other’s arms. How fortunate she is at her age, to have all this pleasure, if she did but know it. Then we dressed.
Saying I was going to stop that day and the night, the mistress demanded fifty shillings, and said she should lose money at that. I knew well the money taken in that house and that two pounds for twenty-four hours ought to suffice, and it was settled at that. Rosa opened her eyes when she saw me pay, I didn’t like to leave her there, thinking the mistress might try to induce her to turn gay, seeing how young and handsome the girl was; but it got monotonous being in one bedroom together so long, and though I had all the newspapers to read, I was glad when darkness set in.
Then I went to a restaurant with her, and had a jolly dinner in a private room. Returning, I bought cards and cribbage board and sat smoking, and playing cribbage, till we turned into bed. We fucked more than on the first night, and in the morning we were hollow-eyed. — It was a delicious night, for she gave herself up to my lust. I explained all about copulation to her, she told me her youthful sensations, and lustful wants, and what she knew of her own sex. — I learnt some-thing even. It was one long, mutual instruction in copulation. — We talked about nothing else.
I did not intend staying there, and knew that else-where I should not have them, so once arranged the glasses and sofa, so that she could see our frolics most fully in them, but she seemed not much delighted with the exhibition. When fucking she always put her face as close to mine, or to my neck as she could, and didn’t seem to be looking at anything. She was a very quiet fuckstress under action — and I thought not of lustful temperament. — Perhaps as she grows older her lust may be stronger, yet there is something in her eye which looks cold.
After my first fuck in bed with her that night, I put her hand down between our bellies to feel how my prick lay in her. — She didn’t want much pressing to do that. With all women of whom I have had the firsts, I have an intense desire to know if they have enjoyed my prick. Some women new at the amorous play and quite young, spend so quietly, that unless their cunts tighten (and some cunts don’t) it is difficult to know if they have spent or not. Directly I felt her hand between our bellies, I began asking her, “Did you like it? — did you spend? — tell me — do, love” — but not a word could I get from her. Wearied by her silence, at length I said — “Shall I fuck you again.” — “If you like,” — said she slowly. — “Then it gave you pleasure.” — “Yes.”
I was delighted, and kissed her rapturously. “Put your fingers well around my prick,” for she had kept her hand there, and my prick was still largish and up her cunt. As I said it, I eased my belly slightly from her to let her do so. Then when she held it, I withdrew my prick through her fingers, covering them with the sperm which came off of it. I have odd, lewed fancies with women, they come over me involuntarily when with them. They are rarely premeditated, nor was this one, but I felt a subtle delight in knowing my sperm would be on her fingers, as well as in her cunt, and said, “Feel it love, that’s my spunk mixed with yours.”
— She answered not. — Then I felt her cunt overflowing with the libation from my balls, and made her feel her cunt. “Did you ever feel your cunt full like that.”— “No,” said she. “You’ve been fucked though , I’ll swear— Haven’t you?” — “Yes,” — said she, after much pressing, “but only last night,” — and she began to cry. — I overwhelmed her with questions, but only got an obstinate, — “I won’t now, what’s the good.” But her history has already been told.
We left next day. I hired two rooms for a week for two pounds, at a fairly respectable eating house, and paid down. — They didn’t seem to like my companion when they saw her. I got decent food there, and the girl was out of harm’s way. My difficulty now was to know what to do with her. She said resolutely that she would never go home again, but at last she told me she had a relative at A*i**d*n and she would go there if they would let her. If not she would go on the streets, or drown herself, and she certainly meant one or the other. I suggested writing to the female friend, with whom she went to the music hall, to get her to induce the young man who had pierced her first, to marry her. — She refused positively, and said her friend had no business to have left her with the young man. She wondered if it was to go with her own young man some- where on the sly. — “To fuck, you mean.” — “Yes,” — she replied, not minding now my lewed words. “Be-sides, he’s downright ugly, and I hate him, if I get near him, I’ll stick a knife in him, kill him,” — said she savagely and with a look in her eyes, which made me think that she would if she got the chance. She seemed vindictive against the whole lot, her parents included.
About the third day, I became uneasy about the ending of this affair. I could go out more freely from this house than from the baudy house, and went to my club for letters, but did not wish to be seen much, for I was supposed to be in the country with a friend, and there-fore kept mostly at the lodgings with her. I could not walk out with her either, and did not like her to go out alone, thinking she might disappear, for she was evidently a determined creature. But she didn’t seem to care at all about going out.
She would read, suddenly put down the paper, and looking at me, say, — “Was I dead drunk — or did he give me something else?” She said this ten times a day. Then she would talk over the matter if I replied. — “If I was drunk, how could I have walked to the house, and how can I recollect at all what he did to me. Father, when drunk, never recollects anything.” — “Do you recollect his prick hurting you?” — “Yes, and something heavy, but not him on top of me, — and I was stupid all next day, and when mother punched me in the streets, I didn’t seem to care. If she’d punched me at any other time, I’d have punched her.” — So we talked over the incident perpetually. Whether drunk or stupefied, she seems to have had momentary flashes of lucidity during the time she was with the man, but no sensation of pleasure when he was up her, nor even knowledge of the number of times she had been fucked. “I’m trying to think, but can’t recollect more, I wish I could, and he a stranger to me, to do it. If it had been any one that I’d known, it wouldn’t have been so black-guard, would it?”
She told me how young she was, when she first knew, or heard, that a man’s prick went up a woman’s cunt. She was only about ten years old, and used then to talk about it with other girls. She, like every other young girl I have known, I think without exception, knew that a cock got stiff, had seen boys’ cocks so, and had tried to make them stiff. Every girl I have fucked has told me nearly the same. A nursemaid once said that she had made a boy’s cock stiffen who was not three years old. The humbler class of girls know and see all this. — Young ladies have never the chance of seeing, and only know such things when their maids (who are of the lower classes) tell them. I think from confidences made me by ladies whom I have had, and by ladies’ maids as well, that they frequently ask their maids to tell about such matters, or lead them on to tell. Prick is instinctively a subject of curiosity to the female, just as the cunt is to the male. She told me all about her conversations with other girls about copulation.
I got her a novel to read, a love story — and she devoured it. I got writing paper, and amused myself by writing down the incidents of this piece of my luck. I noted down what she said — not at the moment, but directly after, when she was reading. But my writing made her suspicious. Was I writing to her father, was her first anxiety. I told her I was only writing about my affairs. But after a while — “You’re writing some-thing about me I’m sure, now do tell me.” — “What makes you think that?” — “Because you keep looking at me so.” I suppose I did, but was not conscious of doing so. However I set her mind at rest by some bouncing lies.
It was certainly a rare chance to be with a nice young girl under such circumstances, and I got confidences which perhaps in her life she will never give to any other man. She would drink now, tho at first frightened of liquor. She never had cared about drink, had seen too much of it at home, she said, but now it seemed to make her, “feel jolly, and forget things.” — She in fact was inclined to be reckless, and I pointed out what that would lead to. She didn’t care she said. “What does it matter now? When are you going to leave me, what shall I do then?” — “Go home my dear, I’ll see that they behave well.” — She stared hard in her usual manner. “Then I won’t, whatever you may try to make me.” — Though a girl, she seemed on this point to have the will of a woman.
I took her out in a cab, and gave her a change of linen right through, for washing was needful. It was of the simplest kind, and quite suited to her condition of life. She’d not asked for it, and when I told her my intention, she named the prices of such articles, and did not seem to desire anything showy or better. I gave her a secondhand and rather used bag to put them in, in thinking it better when she left me, that she should not seem to have all things new, for I had been resolving in my mind, all sorts of ways of doing her good, all sorts of mendacity for hiding what she had been doing. I felt really sorry for the young lass, and again began to think, that had I not met her, she might have gone home. But who can say?
On the fifth day I determined to do something to enable me to leave her, and told her I must do so. That if she did not let me put her somewhere safely, I would fetch her father. It ended in her writing from my dictation to her relative at A*i**d*n.
The letter was in some respects true, but all about what had taken place since her flight was a pack of lies. I thought out the whole thing, even to her being able to account for her having the new under-linen (I gave her nothing else much), and the story was, I’m sure, a quite probable one. As a post-office was named, at which a reply was to be sent, the clue to her whereabouts was pretty well broken. In a couple of days a kind reply came — they knew of her having run away, and had evidently been informed of it by the girl’s father, who I imagined thought the girl might have gone to A*i**d*n. So I determined to send her off there at once. I had now had all the pleasure the lass was capable of giving me, was in fact fucked out, and she as well, but such was the attraction of the young lass, that I never strove harder to copulate. At last, after a mid-day meal (we always began fucking soon after that meal), I got my cock into her, and rammed with energy, but nothing would come out from my sperm- holder and it shrunk out shamefully without spending. “I can’t do it,” said I. — “Oh, I’m glad you leave off, I’m so tired,” said she. As usual with women when I am nearly fucked out, I make them spend, tho I don’t myself, if I can keep my cock stiff and in action. But Rosa was not by nature libidinous I am sure. She gave none of those quiet indications of desire, which the newly fucked usually do. — Unasked, she never laid hold of my prick. — The only curiosity she showed was once in seeing my prick stiffen under her handling, but she never asked me to frig it till I spent. I don’t recollect at this moment one woman fresh at copulation, who has not wished to see that.
Next day I saw her to the station, and the train, with her, move off. I gave her ten pounds, impressing on her the necessity of not telling that she had more than a few shillings. That was to fit in with the tale of her doings since her flight, which we had concocted. — She seemed glad to go, and not at all affected at leaving me. — She only remarked I’d been very kind, that she didn’t know “how it would all end,” and wished she were dead. I gave her envelopes, written with an ad-dress for me at a post-office, and begged her to write to me, however short her letter was, and promised if she was in trouble still, to help her — but I did not give her my real name. About a week after, a letter reached me with “All right — Rosa” on it, and not a word more — I never heard of her again. I applied at the office for a letter months after she had left me, but there was no letter for me. It was a week of great pleasure, a curious one in its incidents. — Her youth, and youthful cunt, and manners, pleased me much; yet I was glad when it was finished, for there was a tie about it which worried me. In a week I had quite recovered my virile power, and at once had two or three of the biggest women I could find, being impatient to see their massive thighs, and thickly haired cunts. To one and all, I told that I had been a week with a young lass, and described her closely to them. It gave me pleasure to point out on the mature cunts, where the hair grew to on the young one, how the slit looked, and how tight it felt, and so on. But this did not seem much to please the ladies, who seemed rather to think that my pleasure with the lass reflected upon their own personal charms.
As to Rosa, I shall always feel that in not writing more to me she was very ungrateful, but I had a most delicious week with her. A honeymoon. I doubt whether I ever shall have anything like such a piece of luck again.