My soiled shirt. • Jenny’s account of herself. • Fucking and funking. • Poor John ! • Of her pudenda. • It’s sensitiveness. • Erotic chat. • Startled by a caller. • Her married sister’s unsatisfied cunt. • How she prevented having children. • Doubts her husband’s fidelity. • Jenny taught the use of a French letter. • Hickery-pickery, and catamenial irregularities.

When I got home I looked at my linen; never had it been in such a mess after female embraces. I had taken no care about it, it was bespunked in an unusual degree, and lots of thinnish stains were on the tail which made me think that one or both of us must have spent copiously. Then I recollected that Jenny’s cunt seemed very wet to me when I felt it after I had spermatised her. There were no signs of blood, and taking stock of the sensations I had experienced, “Jenny has had it before”, I said to myself. Then came a fear that her discharge was from a clap, but I dismissed that from my mind. I had only once had the clap from a woman not gay.

So I washed the tail of my shirt, laid it under my arse to dry, gave it a natural stain of piss, and wen: to bed reflecting and wondering who had first penetrated Jenny’s privates.

A day or two afterwards I went to see her and shammed a knock. She opened the door. “Oh I” she exclaimed as I entered, “now you shan’t, you shan’t again.” “I shan’t what my dear?” “I know why you came here, — but you shan’t.” “I want a chat, — don’t be foolish, — come here, — I won’t do anything, — I don’t want anything,-but come here.”

I got her into the parlour, and on to the sofa, then talked, then got baudy. “Do just let me feel your thighs, — what harm can it do when I have been between them.” “No”. “Just a feel,-there I won’t put my finger further, — oh! Jenny you like my finger, — be quiet dear, — just let me feel it.” Half an hour after she had said, “Now you shan’t”, my prick was in her. No woman can refuse the cock which has once stretched her cunt, she is at its mercy. We spent an-other afternoon in talking and fucking, and she partly in crying and bemoaning her evil deeds.

I had not only opened her cunt, but opened her heart and mouth at the same time. She was the funniest, frankest little woman I ever knew. She told me all her past life, her future expectations, asked my ad-vice, deplored her wickedness to her young man, and all in an hour. She spoke the same incessantly after wards. In a fortnight I knew everything about her from her birth, and about all her family; it was as if for the first time in her life she had had a confident.

“What shall I do with your money?” “Put it with the rest.” “But he knows what I’ve got, — we always tell each other.” “Keep it to get a good stock of clothes before you are married.” “But he knows all about my clothes.” “Put it in a little at a time, or don’t tell him till you are married; then say you kept him in ignorance for a pleasant surprise, or tell him nothing at all about it, — you will have more than that.” “I don’t want your money, I fear it will bring me harm.’ “Well give it back to me Jenny.” But Jenny did not seem to see the advantage of that; so she kept it, and had more besides in time.

“What will become of me and poor John? — he’d die if he knew how ill I behave to him, — now don’t, — you do upset a body so a talking, and putting your fingers there, — oh ! leave me alone, — no no more.” “Once more dear, — how hot your little; cunt is, — it’s longing for a prick.” “Oh ! take care of my cap, you will tear it, — I’ll take it off.” “What a fat backside you’ve got jenny, — how wet your cunt is, shove, shove, fuck, — where is my prick Jenny now?” But Jenny became speechless always after three cock-shoves, and began moistening the intruder with all her cunt power.

After fucking she was tranquil for a time; sperm seemed to soothe her, but then she had funks. “Oh! dear what have you made me do? oh! if I am in the family way !—oh ! if he finds it out, he won’t marry me ! and he is such a good young man, and so fond of me, — o—o—ho—ho !—I’ve behaved very bad to him, —and I didn’t mean, — oho !—it’s all your fault, oho! —I didn’t know what I was about, — I never do when it lightens, — oho ! Do you think he will find it out when we are married?” she would ask in her calmer moments, after she had cried herself out. This scene occurred every day I fucked her for a time, then less frequently.

I tried to comfort her, told facts, and many inventions of my own, of how I had had women, who after-wards married and whose husbands had never known that they had been broached.

“Is it true really !—oh ! do tell me the truth, — if he finds it out I will drown myself, I’m sure he will, — it’s all your fault, — you must be a bad man to take advantage of a poor girl in the house alone.” “But if you’re not in the family way, he can’t find out until you are married, and then it will be too late. You won’t tell him, and your cunt can’t speak.” “Oh ! sir you do say such funny things.”

This went on for weeks. “Oh ! it’s my time, and it’s not come on.” Then with joy, “Oh ! I’m all right, but you can’t do anything to-day, — oh ! if my Mistress should find out, or if my sister should come home and catch you here, — oh ! if the next-door neighbours should see you come here so often, and tell my Mistress.” One or another of these fears was always upon her, but did not prevent out fucking. At that time Sarah was away, and Louisa Fisher still ill, so Jenny had all my essence; and later on as much as Louisa and Sarah spared me. As to my home, I had pretty well done with fucking there.

Jenny’s cunt was well-haired, and had rather large inner lips; not so large as I have seen in many women, but larger than I liked. Her tube was easy. What a fight I had when first I saw it. “I won’t be pulled about like that, — no it’s shameful.” “I dare say your John has seen it.” That always sent her off howling, and when she had subsided she let me do as I liked. “It’s a nasty thing to pull me about like that.” But it came soon to the old world-wide habit: a feel and a look before the entry. The same woman who won’t let you see the bottom of her belly at first, will hold her cunt open for your inspection in a month. It is breaking in a woman to baudiness which is the happiness of the honeymoon, not the hard burst through a bit of gristle. It had weighted on my mind ever since I had had her, and about three weeks afterwards I told her my doubts of her then being a virgin. She swore that no man had even put his hands on it till I did. “Am I different from other woman?” She was indignant at the doubt, and honestly and truly I believe. A school-fellow used to look at her quim, she at her schoolfellow’s, she always thought hers was the most open of the two, she always could put her finger up easily. “but you did hurt me through, though I did not bleed. My sister says she did bleed a little when she first had her husband”, — and Jenny now described her sister’s first night, and her sister’s form, and rather wetted my lust for her sister.

I came to the conclusion that she was born loose at her inlet, or had broken through the cover when quite young, and that no prick had rubbed her but mine; but her organ was a peculiar one in its habit of distilling its liquids.

I have told how my shirt was stained at first, and soon found that Jenny was one of those women who spend rapidly, frequently, and copiously. I have met I think two like her in my career, to the time I correct this.

On the second day’s poking I noticed this and be-came fully aware of it afterwards. When I put my prick up her, and began my movements; a shiver and a sigh escaped her almost directly, her bum gave a heave, a discharge came from her, and if I pulled my prick out then, it was perfectly wet. It used in fact to run out a little, and if pushing one hand well under her arse (which was not so easy, for she had a fine backside), I felt the root of my prick, or rather the end of the stem, I could feel her moisture running down one of her bum-cheeks, or between them. That over by the time I spent we usually discharged simultaneously. Her voluptuousness was greater when we spent together, than on her preliminary discharge. She said she could not account for it, but that a delicious sensation crept over her the moment the prick entered; that her cunt tightened and seemed to wet it-self copiously; that her spend at the climax was longer, more thrilling, voluptuous, satisfying, and exhausting; that when our spunks had mingled her whole body was satisfied; but that her first spend seemed only to confine its pleasure to her cunt. It is difficult to describe these sensations.

I frigged her several times, and got a copious discharge from her, thin, milky, and barely sticky, yet it left a strong stain on linen. She was astonished when I told her of her peculiarity. Perhaps she wondered what her poor John would think of it. I can’t say I altogether admired her wetness; I took a dislike to a tall thin girl who was much of the same sort as Jenny, but that girl was quite slippy cunted, though not with the whites. This was since.

(Another woman who had this sensitive and sensuous (for it was both) organisation, was the sister of an intimate friend, and whom I have fucked since the above was written. I don’t know that I shall say any- thing more about the lady, so tell of her cuntal peculiarity here. She was plump, fair-faced, had a fine complexion, and in face strongly resembled the queen. She was to be married.)

When her young man came to town, and Jenny went out with him, the girl upbraided herself. When I next saw her after his visit she felt herself a deceiving wretch, and cried. Now would I please desist, and not make her sin any more. But the persuasion was too great, the recollection of her pleasure too strong, and never did I go away without having plugged her.

Did she love her young man? Yes she supposed she did; he was kind, attentive, and would make a good husband. She wanted to get married, to have a home of her own; besides he was not a workman, but a tradesman, and when married they would have a shop, and be in a higher position. She always spoke more of the house and shop, and her liberty, than of her young man.

She was of a highly nervous organisation, and through me she was to be shocked severely. She half fainted the first day I took liberties with her, thunder and lightning gave her an inclination that way, twice afterwards she nearly fainted, any sudden thing annoyed her and turned her white. One occasion I’ll tell of now, the other in due course.

We fucked on the sofa after the first day; but though large, it was not like a bed, so afterwards we used to go to her bed-room. I used to leave my hat and stick downstairs, so that in case of surprise I might stand in the hall, and say I had called to enquire. It was a stupid thing to do as I found out, and then I used to take it into the bed-room. I had fucked her one afternoon, when a double knock came at the street-door, I knew it. “It’s my wife”, I said. Down I rushed for my hat, and returned to the bed- room; and then Jenny opened the door. She had called to make some enquiry, and went away. I heard the door close, but no further noise or movement, then crept downstairs. There sat Jenny on a chair, just recovering from a half faint. “Oh !” said she, “I nearly dropped down.” “Ah ! she would have knocked you down my dear, if your cunt could have spoken and said what was inside it.” But Jenny never could joke. It was always dreadful, and she was to be punished in some way for her evil deeds with me. A few tears, and then a little baudy chaffing brought smiles again on her face.

I delighted in talking baudy to her, told her smutty stories about the women I had had, described their charms, and any special lasciviousness connected with them. Her astonishment was great; her curiosity in- tense; she in return told me all she knew about every other woman, and all her own little baudy doings. Never was a woman so frank about such matters. When I left her I doubt whether her dear John could have told her half what she could have told him about fucking, and the two articles that copulation is done with.

Her talk was all about her sisters, and principally of the married one who came to sleep with her; a woman about twenty-eight years of age, who had been married some years, and had two children, the last one four years old. She, or rather he, did not mean to have any more, they could not afford to keep them. “How did they stop it?” I asked Jenny. She did not know. But one night the sister wanted particularly to sleep at home, and had asked Jenny if for once she would sleep in the house alone. She consented though frightened. I proposed sleeping with her, and we passed a very delicious night together : a man and woman fresh to each other, always do in bed. What a night of feeling, frigging, sniffing, inspecting, and fucking it was! At all times, no matter what we began talking about, cunt and cock were sure to become the subject. That night I learned that her sister had slept away, expecting to catch her husband out in some infidelities. Since he had determined to have no more children, he made her frig him instead of fucking; so the sister went short of cock and had to frig herself. That annoyed her. Then when he fucked her he did not do it properly, he cheated her sister, Jenny said. I was a long time in getting out of Jenny what the man did, at length she said, that just as the stuff was coming, he pulled it out, and it went all over her sister’s thighs or her belly, and often before she had had her own pleasure. Her sister thought it was just as well not to be married, as to go on like that.

That was not all. He used at first to do it every night, and now not once a week, said he could do with-out it, that he did not care about it, and so on. She believed that he had other women, and that was more aggravating because she wanted it herself more than ever. She was not so well, she told Jenny for want of fucking, she liked it, and would willingly have more children though she was so poor. I asked cautiously if she had heard of the skins which people put over their pricks, and into which they spent their seed? Jenny had not. I explained what they where. She said she would ask her sister about it. I cautioned her about showing that she knew too much. A few days after. wards Jenny told me her sister had tried them, but they did not like them, besides they could not afford them. What Jenny’s sister paid for French letters I don’t know, I used to pay nine pence each. I fucked Jenny with one on just to instruct her. These two women talked often about such matters; and each day Jenny told me what her sister had said. Soon I knew all about her sister’s doings, from the night she lost her virginity to the birth of her last child. The little fucking that the sister had, and her longing for more affected me considerably; I quite longed to see this hot-bummed, cunt-neglected wife, and soon my curiosity was to be gratified in a way I little expected.

Jenny and I settled down quite matrimonially, I saw her certainly four days a week, or else every day excepting Sundays. At times I spent the whole day there, took wine, and meat, and newspapers. She cooked, and very badly. We ate and drank together, and fucked, she cried about John and her wickedness, and her fears of being found out. Then I read to her the news, and also every baudy book I could get hold of, and explained to her every use that could be made of our tools, both male and female, from flat-cocking to buggery, so far as I knew, — but I did not know so much as I do now.

To prevent its being known I was there, we got quite cunning. I was not to come at eleven o’clock, because then the butcher came; nor at twelve, because the girls were always at the window next door; between one and two o’clock I was safe, because the family was always at dinner at that time; at three the milkman came, and I avoided him. So with a little trouble I pretty well escaped observation, during the eight or ten weeks which I did husband duty, and perhaps as much as some two husbands would have done.

Once she was awfully uneasy, for her courses had not come on, and shed flood of tears. She would lose her John, poor fellow ! When in that way she was always pitying him, but she was always irregular in her menstruation, which rendered it difficult to judge of her condition.

Oh ! she was sur she was now in the family way, she had symptoms; she had asked her sister how she had felt when she had conceived, and her own symptoms were the same. “My God what shall I do I’ll drown myself, I will, — I shall never be able to face him, — poor fellow !” “Go and get some-thing, go and see some one.” She went, took a dose of what she called “hikery-pikery”, and the ugly red stream came on. I don’t believe she was in the family way. Years after I heard she had never had a child, though long married.