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Chapter 32 - 32

I felt the same squeeze of the cunt as I withdrew, one of those

delicious contraction which women of strong muscular power in their

privates can give; not all can do it. Those who cannot never can

understand it. Those who can, will make a finger sensible of it's grip,

if put up their cunts.

 

She got up, and tucked her chemise between her legs to dry her split,

she did not wash it. "I am always alone," said she, "between eight and

twelve just now," and as any woman just then answered my wants, I made

opportunities, and I had her again two or three times, till a rare bit

of luck occurred to me.

 

We were in the bed-room one hot day; to make it cooler I took off

trowsers and drawers, laid them on a chair, carefully rolled my shirt up

round my waist, so as to prevent spunk falling upon it, and thus

naked from my boots to waist, laid myself on the top of my rollicking,

belly-heaving, rump-wriggling country lass.

 

I always gave her five shillings before I began; she had taken a letch

for me, or else being hot cunted, and not getting it done to her often,

dearly liked my poking her; and seeming to want it that day unusually,

began her heaving and wriggling energetically. We were well on towards

our spend, when with a loud cry of "Oh! my God!" she pushed me off, and

wriggled to the bedside. I got off, and saw a sturdy country girl of

about fifteen or sixteen years, standing in the bed-room door looking at

us with a broad grin, mixed with astonishment, upon her face.

 

For an instant nobody spoke. Then the girl said with a malicious grin,

"pretty goings on Sarah, if fearther knowed un--" "How dare you stand

looking at me?" said Sarah. "It's my room as well as yourn," said

Martha, for that was her name; and nothing further was said then. But

Martha's eyes fixed on me as I sat naked up to my waist with my prick

wet, rigid, red, throbbing, and all but involuntarily jerking out its

sperm. I was in that state of lust, that I could have fucking anything

in the shape of a cunt, and scarcely knew in the confusion of the

moment, where I was, and what it was all about. Sarah saw my state, and

began pulling down my shirt. "Go out of the room," said she to her

sister. "Damn it I will finish, I will fuck you," said I making a snatch

at her cunt again. "Oh! for God's sake, don't sir," said she. With a

grin out went young sister Martha into the kitchen, and then Sarah began

to blubber, "If she tells fearther, he will turn me out into the

streets."

 

"Don't be a fool," said I, "why should she tell?" "Because we are bad

friends." "Has she not done it?" "No, she is not sixteen." "How do you

know she has not?" "Why we sleep together and I know." "Who sleeps in

the other bed?" "Fearther." "In the same room?" "Yes." "Don't you know

anything against her?" "No, last hay-making I seed a young man trying

to put his hands up her clothes, that's all; she has only been a woman

a few months." If she tells of her, she will tell of me, I thought. It

might come to my aunt's ears, Fred would know, and I should get into a

scrape.

 

"It is a pity she has not done it," said I, "for then she would not

tell." "I wish she had," she replied. One thing suggested another. "She

knows all about what we were doing?" Sarah nodded. "Get her to promise

not to tell, and get her to let me do it to her, and I will give you two

pounds," said I, taking the money out of my purse.

 

It was more money than she had ever had in her life at one time, her

eyes glistened; she was silent a minute as if reflecting, then said,

"She has always been unkind to me, and she shant get me turned out if I

can help it." Then after farther talk, some hesitation, and asking me if

I was sure I would give her the money, she said, "I'll try, let's have

a jolly good drink, then I'll leave you together," and we went into the

kitchen. I saw her dodge.

 

Martha was leaning, looking out of the window, her bum sticking out, her

short petticoats showing a sturdy pair of legs; she turned round to us,

it was about eleven o'clock in the day, the old man was at work far off

and had taken his dinner with him that day, Sarah had told me.

 

"You won't tell father," said Sarah in a smooth tone. No reply but

a grin. "If you do, I will tell him I saw young Smith's hand up your

clothes." "It's a lie."

 

"Yes, he did, and you know you have seen all he has got to show." "You

are a liar," said Martha. Sarah turned to me and said, "Yes, she did,

we both saw him leaking, and a dozen more chaps." "She saw their

cocks?" said I. "Yes." "You took me to see them, you bitch," said Martha

bursting out in a rage. "You did not want much taking, what did you say,

and what did you do in bed that night, when we talked about it?" "You

are a wicked wretch, to talk like that before a strange young man," said

Martha and bounced out of the cottage.

 

In a short time she came in again, the oldest told me scandals she

knew about her sister, and made her so wild, that they nearly fought. I

stopped them, they made it up, and I sent off the eldest to fetch shrub,

gin and peppermint; it was a good mile to the tavern in the village.

 

When she had gone I told Martha I hoped she would do no mischief. She

was nothing loath to let me kiss her, so there was soon acquaintance

between us. She had seen me half naked, how long she had been watching I

knew not, but it was certain she had seen me shoving as hard as I could

between the naked thighs of her sister, and that was well calculated

to make her randy and ready for the advances of a man. "Here is five

shillings, don't say anything my dear." "I won't say nothing," said she

taking the money. Then I kissed her again, and we talked on.

 

"How did you like him feeling you?" I asked, "was he stiff?" No reply.

"Was it not nice when he got his hand on your thigh?" Still no reply.

"You thought it nice when in bed, Sarah says." "Sarah tells a wicked

story," she burst out. "What does she tell?" "I don't know." "I will

tell you my dear; you talked about Smith's doodle and the other men's

you saw pissing." "You are the gentleman from London stopping at the

Hall," she replied, "so you had better go back and leave us poor girls

alone," and she looked out of the window again.

 

"I am at the Hall," said I putting my hand round her waist, "and like

pretty girls," and I kissed her until she seemed mollified and said,

"What can you want in troubling poor girls like us?" "You are as

handsome as a duchess, and I want you to do the same as they do." "What

is that?" said she innocently. "Fuck," said I boldly. She turned away

looking very confused. "You saw me on your sister, between her thighs,

that was fucking; and you saw this," at the same time pulling out my

prick, "and now I am going to feel your cunt."

 

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