Pouter. — The lips of these cunts are like half thin sausages, and almost seem to hang down from the belly, so that they leave a furrow between the outer sides of the lips and the inner side of the thighs. It is the ugliest ' cunt — and is still uglier if the nymphae show much, as they often do. They look as if the owners were in a consumption. The hair on these cunts I have found often look straggling and thin — or if thickish, the bush is weak, long, and with but little curl in it. — Several times when I have found myself with a woman who had this ugly sort of genital, I have been unable to stroke her. — Pouters, like the thin lipped cunts — usually belong to women, lanky, thin, poor, ill fed and not too young, poor, short, skinny arsed seam-stresses, those whose bum bones you can feel. I fancy it is largely through want of nourishment in their case and frequently through ill health. — Middle aged, needy whores — those who wear veils and try to pass them-selves off as thirty when they are nearer fifty — have them. — I have in my youth many a time been taken in by them, but never now go after a woman who wears a veil.

All classes of beauty may be found with one or other of the defects, for the variety in combination of outer lips, clitoris, nymphae, motte, and hair in quantity, size, and shape is infinite. No two cunts are exactly the same in look, hence the charm of variety, and the ever recurrent desire for fresh women by the male. There is always a charm in novelty, it is born with us.

Chapter X

A small-cunted lady's maid. • The courier's good for-tune. • Fucked and forsaken. • A public house and a hot clay. • Child, mother, and grandmother. • Lust communicated by touch of flesh. • Effects of hot weather and sherry on a rutting cunt. • In the cab. • In the brothel. • Pleasure and repentance. • Adultery alas!

[Turning over the remaining manuscript — I found the following about a small cunted woman. — When it got placed out of its chronological order I know not, but the incident occurred quite fifteen years ago. It naturally belongs to the chapter on cunts and so is placed here.]

Towards the end of October, at about five in the afernoon, a tall, light haired young woman turned out of Oxford St. into Bond St. She was so neatly dressed like a superior servant, that I couldn't conclude if she were gay or not. I followed her down the street where she seemed to look at no one when stopping and looking at shops. When she did, I also stopped and looked, standing by the side of her. Men noticed her, none addressed her, but when one turned round to look after her, I felt inclined to accost her fearing to be anticipated and some man have her before myself — if she was to be had at all.

By the time she had got to P**cl*d**ly my cock tip was up against my navel. I'd not had a fair woman for some time, and as I walked behind her had been picturing to myself the look of her cunt, comparing it mentally with dark ones, till I almost fancied I'd never seen a light haired one, and felt passionate desire for her. She stopped at a corner shop and going close to her I asked. “May I go home with you?” She looked at me as if half astonished, then after hesitation. “Yes, but I live three miles off.” — “Let us get into a cab.” — “Oh no, I can't take you home.” — We got then into a cab, and in ten minutes were in a snug accommodation house [existing no more].

She stood not attempting to undress. “Take off your things.” — “All?” — “Yes.” — She did partially then stopped. — “Get naked.” — “Are you going to be naked?” — “Yes.” — “Oho.” — She went on undressing slowly, there was no fire in the room and it being coldish I said “Keep your chemise on.” — “Thank you, sir,” said she — at which I laughed, and at that she looked astonished.

I had undressed much quicker and when in shirt held it up, proud of my prick which was in grand erection. She stood staring at it without speaking — I closed on her and put my hand between her thighs. — “Oh wait” — said she — and was soon on the bed in chemise, which I pulled up to her navel, and saw a finely made woman twenty-two years old, — she said. — She'd a lovely motte delicately covered with short crisp hair of the color of ginger, but brighter. I opened her thighs and saw one of the prettiest of cunts, delicately lipped, and with the prettiest little crisp curls part of the way down them, slightly divided part of its length by a vermillion stripe which was just obtruding. I laid by her side, fingered the soft red stripe, intruded my finger, could scarcely find an opening, and when I did it seemed so tight to my finger. “You have a very little cunt.” — “Have I?”

Surrendering herself I got her to the bed side to see better, and opening wider her thighs, saw that the vagina's mouth looked like a young girl's. I put one finger, then two up it, delighted with the novelty — for nothing is so entrancing, soul absorbing as novelty in cunt — questioning, asking without reply, till at length. “I'm all right made sir.” Then on the bed I kissed all over her well formed, plump white fleshed body, nestling my mouth in her motte, sniffing its atmosphere. Then pressing myself close to it, putting her hand round my pego, kissing her lips, I frigged a neat little clitoris till she sighed with voluptuous thrills.

Silently turning on to her belly, — how instinctively a woman turns on to her back as the male presses against her — pulling up shirt and chemise, getting the fullest contact of naked flesh — that delicious sensation — my thighs settled between hers, my pego rubbed in the crisp thicket on her motte till my hairs mingled with hers, I guided the ruby tip to her cuntal entrance. Slowly at first my prick glided up the tight avenue, and then a vigorous thrust lodged it by her womb. Up and down now I lunged it, smoother and softer the channel seemed, a minute's luscious movements only. Aha, God! — what a tight grip yet lubriciously soft, how delicious a sensation on my gland which seemed dissolving into the folds of the channel. — “Oho — har” — she sighed, our buttocks trembled, my prick wriggled at the goal, a spasm of pleasure, my prick throbs, and out jets my sperm as our tongues meet and the volup- tuous paradisical swooning left us tranquil in dreamy pleasure, cunt and prick completing their work without our will. What an angel seems a woman during this orgasm of love, this sexual mingling. As my sperm rises I love her, could drink her piss, her blood, so do I long to be incorporate with her, be with her one in body and soul.

The brain returns to its normal state, the anticipation and anxieties of love return, when the heavenly pleasure has passed. — “Let me wash.” — “No, don't move” — and I clasped her buttocks firmly, pressing my motte to hers, squeezing my prick into her cunt. — “Do, I'm so frightened of getting in the family way, I'm going to service again” and she uncunted me as a woman with a retrograde jerk of her bum can, when the prick is shrinking in her.

She washed whilst I lay asking how she managed to get the sperm out. — Was it really so small, she asked — one gentleman had said it was. Then as it was cool, and the sheets looked questionable, we covered our-selves with the blankets and talked, she had laid down after ablution as if she expected to be fucked again.

What did she mean by going to service? She began crying and told me that she was a servant in a good place — naming it — had been three years there and traveled with the family. Their courier made advances, before, got into her bedroom and she let him have her virginity. Afterwards he fucked her on several days or nights. As her room was away from the family's that was easy and seemed secure. — But they were discovered. Not a word was said till they came back to England, when her mistress discharged her at once, refusing to give a character. The courier laughed at marry- ing, said he'd only joked, that she knew it, and in a few days went abroad again. She, frightened to tell her parents, took a lodging, spent what little money she had, and at length one night in despair and without being advised by any one, went out to get money by the sale of her charms; that was only a week ago. She'd had two or three men, got but trifles, and hated the life, and resolved to get to service again. She'd got good clothes. Then she cried again, and left off feeling my cock to wipe her eyes.