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I said I should walk home with her. The village-road had but occasional

oil-lamps; at places it was quite dark, loving couples were walking or

turning off into dark bye-places by hedges and fences to satisfy their

amatory wants. This I pointed out to her, and talked of the prints she

had seen in _Fanny Hill_ that morning. Altogether she had gone through

enough that day and night to make a female randy. Suddenly a girl in

the dark squealed, and a masculine voice in the dark shouted up, "That's

right, shove your prick well up her, old boy." I tried it on with Sarah

on the way home, but it was no go. I felt her bum and thighs, got her

hand on to my prick, but she would not let me have her.

Next night I was at the fair, and met her sister Susan there by chance.

I got excited and tried the same dodge with her, she had also a female

friend with her. I pressed their bellies and pinched their burnt when

in the crowd; her friend went off with her young man, then I had Susan

alone and tried pushing my hand against her belly, more than ever; she

took no notice. Her friend and we then met again face to face in the

mob. I had an impression that a feel at my balls must have come from her

friend. We all went to a public-house and had drink; there suddenly

she bid me good-bye, saying it was late, and she must get home, set off

running and was out of sight in a minute.

I had no intention of going home, but after thinking an instant ran

after her, saw a woman squatting who got up as I neared her; it was she.

"You have been piddling," said I. There was some joking on this. The

same sort of couples were to be seen cuddling about as on the previous

night; the same whispering, squealing ad scuffling a little way off in

the dark lanes. She was more frisky than her sister, and more talkative.

"Ain't they larking!" said she as a girl gave a half giggle, half cry

in the dark. Said I, "They are fucking." She stood stock still for a

minute, and then walked on quietly without saying another word. I had

not before said a baudy word to her.

Having got the word fuck out, I was game for anything, rattled on

baudily; at last after a long silence, something I said made her laugh.

I began kissing her, at length she returned it, and next instant I

thrust her up against a wall, pushed my hand up her clothes, and my

fingers on to her slit, which was as wet as a slop-pail. She cried, "Oh!

you vagabond," got my hand away, took to her Heels, and ran off. I after

her, till we both stopped breathless.

I tried again, her resistance grew feebler, she was silent, I had her

against a wall, one hand holding her cunt, with the other I was guiding

my prick to it, it was sliding in, in an instant it would have been

up her, when putting down both hands she pushed it away saying, "Oh!

gracious God, what am I about again," ran off, and never stopped until

she had rang our house-bell.

I went back to the fair and later on met outside it a very short girl,

who seemed too respectable to be by herself and had her veil down. I

spoke with her, found she was going my way, and walked with her. She

knew my name, and where I lived. Two nights scrambling had not got me

a poke, that I suppose made me bold enough to make advances to this

modest, quiet girl; I stole a kiss, then another, then a hug, then a

feel, and finally with scarcely any hindrance fucked her. We walked and

talked when it was over, she would not tell me her name or address, nor

give me a glimpse of her face; I fucked her again up against our own

garden-wall, insisted on knowing where she lived, said I would walk till

I saw, and did walk with her for about an hour. She said, "If you walk

about all night you shall never know where I live, but you may do it

again if you like, or I will meet you to-morrow, but I dare not let you

see where I go." I feared I could not poke again, so stopped to piss.

She modestly walked on a little; I frigged my prick until the steam was

up, then in her well moistened cunt consummated, and parted, promising

to meet her the next night.

I looked at Sarah and Susan the next morning, took opportunity of

reminding each of them that I had felt their cunts, bragged to each,

that a young lady who lived close by had let me do it to her. The next

night came, the unknown girl did not keep her appointment, and the

following morning found I had the clap. I never saw or heard of her

again, nor know who the young lady who gave it to me. She was not a

common domestic, I am sure.

This stopped me for a month, but the time was not all lost, for I

indulged in baudy talk, and familiarized both servants with it, and

the fact that they had felt me, and I them. The eldest used to look

uncomfortable, Susan used to brazen it out with a bright roguish eye,

that I then almost turned to her, especially as Sarah still wore black

stockings; but then Sarah had such fat white thighs, and a larger bum.

When better and I was again alone with Sarah on a Sunday morning, I got

her on to a chair, pulled up her clothes all round, exposed her legs,

showed her my prick, showed her the pictures in _Fanny Hill_, got

her excited, but did nothing more. Another Sunday I tried it on

unsuccessfully. The third Sunday going upstairs just after mother and

Tom had gone to church, she said she was not going to be worried with

me, and Susan would be at home. Susan had not I found gone to church as

usual. Baulked, I was going out, but catching her in the hall, tried to

pull up her clothes. She cried, "For God's sake don't, I would not let

Susan hear for the world." This confirmed me in what I had felt nearly

certain of; the sisters did not tell each other of my games. I heard

Susan say to her sister who had gone to the top of the house, "I shan't

loose my outing, there is nothing the matter with you," and out she

went. The next minute down came Sarah; I stopped her on the landing, by

my mother's room.

"Now don't," she began in a coaxing way, but I had not spent for weeks,

and as I looked into her bright eyes and flushed face, meant that day to

do so if I could. She must herself have wanted it, there was such a

soft look about her. My reply was to try to pull up her clothes.

We struggled, pushed against the door of mother's bed-room, and

we staggered into the room together. Nothing could have been more

favorable. I got her up against the bed, her clothes up, my prick

against her belly, and there for a minute we struggled.