The kitchen was on the ground-floor, separated from the body of the
house by a short passage. I got her on to my knees, I was now a big
fellow, and though but a boy, my voice was changing, she chaffed me
about that; then my hand went up her petticoats, and she gave me such a
violent pinch on my cock (outside the clothes), that I yelled. Whenever
I was getting the better of her in our amatory struggles, she said "oh!
hush! there is your aunt knocking," and frightened me away, but at last
she was sitting on my knees, my hand touching her thighs, she feeling
my prick, she felt all round it and under. "You have no hair," she said.
That annoyed me, for I had just a little growing. Then how it came about
I don't recollect, but she consented to go into the parlor with me,
after we had sat together feeling each other for a time, if mine could
be called feeling, when my lingers only touched the top of the notch.
I took up the candle. "I won't go if you bring a light," said she, so I
put down the candle, and holding her by the arm, we walked through the
passage across the little hall, to the front parlour; she closed the
door, and we were in the dark. And now I only recollect generally what
took place, it seems as if it all could but have occupied a minute, or
two, though experience tells me it must have been longer.
We sat on a settee or sofa, she had hold of my prick, and I her cunt,
for she now sat with thighs quite wide open. It was my first real feel
of a woman, and she meant me to feel well. How large and hairy, and wet
it seemed; its size overwhelmed me with astonishment, I did not find the
hole, don't recollect feeling for that, am sure I never put my finger in
it, all seemed cunt below her belly, wet, and warm, and slippery. "Make
haste, your aunt will be in soon," said she softly, but I was engrossed
with the cunt, in twiddling it and feeling it in delighted wonder at
its size, and other qualities. "Your aunt will be in," and leaving off
feeling my cock, she laid half on, half off the settee. "No, no, not
so," I recollect the words, but what I was doing, know not; then I
was standing by her side, my cock stiff, and still feeling her cunt in
bewilderment. "I can't... stop..., get on to the sofa." I laid half over
her, my prick touched something--her cunt of course. Whether it went in
or not, God knows, I pushed, it felt smooth to my prick, then suddenly
came over me, a fear of some horrible disease, and I ceased whatever I
was doing. "Go on, go on," said she, moving her belly up. I could not,
said nothing, but sat down by her side, she rose up, "You're not man
enough," said she, laying hold of my prick. It was not stiff, I put my
hand down, and again the great size--as it seemed to me--of her cunt,
made me wonder.
What then she did with me, I know not, she may have frigged it, I think
she did, but can't say, a sense of disgrace had come over me, as she
said I was not man enough, disgrace mixed with fear of disease. "Let
me try," said I; again she laid back, I have a faint recollection of my
finger going in somewhere deep, again of my prick touching her thighs
and rubbing in something smooth, but nothing more. "You're not man
enough" said she again. A ring... "Hark! it's your aunt, go!" and it
was.
I went into the adjoining room, where my books were and a lamp, she went
to the street-door. My aunt and cousin came in, and went up to their
bed-rooms, I sat smelling my fingers; the full smell of cunt that I
had for the first time. I smelt and smelt almost out of my senses, sat
pouring over a book, seeming to read, but with my fingers to my nose and
thinking of cunt, its wonderful size and smell. Aunt came down. "Have
you got a cold, Wattie?" "No, aunt." "Your eyes look quite inflamed,
child." Soon after again, she said: "You have a cold." "No, aunt." "Why
are you sniffing so, and holding your hand to your mouth?" Suddenly
the fear of the pox came over me, I went up to the bedroom, soaped and
washed my prick, and had a terrible fear on me.
I was overwhelmed with a mixed feeling of pride, at having had my prick
either touch or go up a cunt, fear that I had caught disease, and shame
at not being man enough. Instinct told me, I had lost, in the eyes of
the woman; and my pride was hurt in a woeful manner. I tried to avoid
seeing her, instead of as before getting excitedly into a room, where
she was likely to be alone for a minute. I did that for three days, then
fear of disease vanished, and my hopes of feeling her cunt again, or of
poking--I don't know which--impelled me towards her.
During those three days, I washed my prick at every possible
opportunity, and thought of nothing else but the incident; all seemed to
me hurry, confusion, impossible, I wondered, and wonder still, whether
my prick went into her or not; but above all, the largeness of the cunt
filled me with wonder; for though I had had rapid glimpses of cunts as
told, and had now seen a few pictures of the long slit, I never could
realise that that was only the outside of the cunt, until I had had a
woman. My fingers had no doubt slipped over the surface of hers,
from clitoris to arse-hole; the space my hand covered filled me with
astonishment, as well as the smell it left on my fingers, I thought of
that more than anything else. This seems to me now laughable, but it was
a marvel to me then.
When I sneaked into the kitchen again, I was ashamed to look at her, and
left almost directly, but one day I felt her again, laughing she put her
hand outside my trousers, gave my doodle a gentle pinch and kissed me.
"Let's do it!" I said. "Lor! you ain't man enough," and again I slunk
away ashamed.
CHAPTER IV.
The frequency of my cock-stands, up to this time I don't know.
Voluptuous sensation, I have no clear recollection of; but no doubt
during that half swooning delight, which I had when big Betsy allowed me
to lay my head on her lap and feel her limbs, that impulse towards the
woman was accompanied by sensuous pleasure, though I don't recollect the
fact, but soon my manhood was to declare itself.
Some time after I had felt this servant's quim, I noticed a strong
smelling, whitish stuff inside my foreskin, making the underside of the
tip of the prick sore. At first I thought it disease, then pulling the
foreskin up, I made it into a sort of cup, dropped warm water into
it, and working it about, washed all round the nut, and let the randy
smelling infusion escape. This marked my need for a woman, I did not
know what the exudation was, it made me in a funk at first. One day I
had been toying with the girl, had a cockstand, and felt again my prick
sore, and was washing it with warm water, when it swelled up. I rubbed
it through my hand, which gave me unusual pleasure, then a voluptuous
sensation came over me quickly so thrilling and all pervading that I
shall never forget it. I sunk on to a chair, feeling my cock gently, the
next instant spunk jotted out in large drops, a full yard in front of
me, and a thinner liquid rolled over my knuckles. I had frigged myself,
without intending it.
Then came astonishment, mingled with disgust, I examined the viscid
gruelly fluid with the greatest curiosity, smelt it, and I think tasted
Then came fear of my godfather, and of being found out; for all
that, after wiping up my sperm from the floor, I went up to my bed-room,
and locking the door, frigged myself until I could do it no more from
exhaustion.
I wanted a confident and told two schoolfellows who were brothers, I
could not keep it to myself, and was indeed proud though ashamed to
speak of the pleasure. They both had bigger pricks than mine, and never
had jeered at me because I could not retract my prepuce easily. Soon
after they came to see me, we all went into the garden, each pulled
my prepuce back, I theirs, and then we all frigged ourselves in an
out-house.
****
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