'How I should like to fuck that Mary.'" I told it in
words like that to Jenny, and she sat listening. At the word "fuck" up
she got.

"You are a going on rude again." "You asked me." "Not for that." "But
that's what I had to tell, what you kissed me to tell." "I didn't think
you would say rude things." "Sit down, and I'll tell you without rude
words." And so I did, telling all over again with additions, but instead
of saying "cunt," "fuck," and so on, said, "I got my hand you know
where,"--"and then she let me you know what,"--"she was frightened to
let me do, you guess what I wanted."

"Luckily though she foolishly told her fellow-servant, she did not say
who had been feeling her. That sneak told my wife, who told me about it,
or all she knew, and said she could not keep such an improper girl in
the house as that. 'But the other servant may have told a lie to spite
her.' 'Perhaps, but I'll turn her out too',--and so she did, both left."

Thus I talked to Jenny till I expect her quim was hot enough; then said
I, "Here is a pretty neckerchief,--put it on." "Oh! how pretty." "I
won't give it you unless you put it on." She went to the glass and
unbuttoned the top of her dress, which was made to button on the front.
I saw her white fat bosom, she threw the kerchief round the neck, and
tried to push it down the back. "Let me put it down,--it's difficult."
She let me. "You are not unbuttoned enough,--it's too tight." She undid
another button, I pushed down the kerchief, and releasing my hand as I
stood at the back of her, put it over her shoulder, and down in front,
pushing it well under her left breast. "Oh! what a lovely breast you
have,--let me kiss it."

A shriek, a scuffle; In the scuffle I burst off a button or two, which
exposed her breast, and getting my hand on to one of the globes began
feeling and kissing it. Then I slid my hand further down, and under her
armpit. "Oh! what a shame,--don't,--I don't like it." "How lovely,--kiss,
kiss,--oh! Jenny what a lot of hair I can feel under here."
"Oh!--screach,--screach,--oh! don't tickle me,--oh!--oh!,"--and she
crouched as women do who can't bear tickling. I saw my advantage. "Are
you ticklish?" "Yes,--oh!--(screach,--screach),--oh! leave off."

Instead of leaving off I tickled harder than ever. She got my hand out,
but I closed on her, tickling her under her arm, pinching her sides, and
got her into such a state of excitement, that directly I touched her she
screac