, but the extreme tightness was
such a novelty. "I will do it again." "Have you done it really?" said
Kitty. "Put your hand and feel," said I opening my legs a little to
let Kitty feel under my testicles, "my prick's right up her cunt
now,--feel."

"Have you done it really?" "Yes,--feel." "Ri--tol--lural--li--do!"
said Kitty setting off in a happy dance all round the room. I went on
fucking, keeping the girl quiet, I could pull her little form up to me
as tight as wax, and coaxing and promising all sorts of things I fucked
her again without uncunting.

"Have you really done it?" said Kitty again. "Yes twice,--put your hand
up under my balls and feel." Kitty thinking better of the suggestion
this time did so, and satisfying herself that my prick was out of her
touch, set off dancing again with a "ri--too--ralooral--ledo!" I got
off the girl, the hair of my prick saturated with blood and spunk. "She
is bleeding." The girl began snivelling worse than ever when she heard
that, and began feeling her cunt.

"What are you crying for you foule?--did he hurt you much?--let's look
at it,"--and Kitty looked at the little quim bunged up with sperm mixed
with blood. "Oh! ain't he done it!--ritollooralado, ritolloolra-lado,"
and she capered again. "What are you dancing and singing for?" I asked.
"She's had it done,--oh! look what a mess is on the bed, the woman will
kick up a row."

"Get up and wash it you fool, and don't cry." "It hurts." "Wash it."
"It will hurt." "No it won't you foule." Here Kitty put a basin on the
floor, pushed the girl towards it, and made her wash. Then we got her on
to the bed, and both of us took a long, long look at her split. It was
bleeding freely, I saw the ragged edge my intrusion had made, and not
feeling inclined for more fucking gave the girl half-a-sovereign in
gold, Kitty five shillings, and went off leaving them still naked, Kitty
from time to time looking at her friend's wounded orifice, and saying it
would soon be all right, that her thing had bled also. I had fear that I
might be in trouble through my voluptuousness, although a girl of twelve
years is competent to judge of her own fitness for fucking, and many not
a month over that age are plugged daily in London.

I had to go to the Temple that afternoon, returning along the Strand an
hour afterwards, not thinking of my afternoon's amusement, for I had had
a disagreeable interview with solicitors, when just at the end of C-----
Street w