inute, coaxing her the next.

I was feeling her. My hand was roving over a plump little bum and belly,
my finger entered a tight little split on which was a little crisp hair,
my prick followed my finger, and on the new sweet hay, belly to belly,
but not mouth to mouth (she would not kiss), my prick revelled in a cunt
which seemed divine, and was soon drowned in a pond of its own making.

"Mother's better, and has gone down the lane to Pender's," said she,
"if she comes back she will wonder where I am,--let me go." I would
not, until I had again enjoyed her; and then the lass enjoyed me. She
unclosed the wicket in the rick-yard which let me out. I got across a
field into the lane, went past the farm-gates, and there stood Molly
with her mother. "Good night," said I to the mother, then passing
Pender's cottage, I went round, and up to the Hall.

I thought that having fucked Molly I should be contented; but the little
cunt, the little hair, the small bum, made me want Molly again. I could
not get her, she evidently did not wish for me; I had had her against
her will, and so had her again afterwards. Perhaps only seemingly
against her will, for though she resisted, and accused me of breaking my
word, she had spent with me, and was to spend again, perhaps in spite of
herself.

I cannot recollect the name of Molly's swain, though I have tried hard,
so call him Giles,--it is a bumpkin's name.

CHAPTER VIII.

Field women.--Fred at home.--Smith, the field foreman.--A
rape of a juvenile.--Funking consequences.--Nelly consents.--
Fred looks on.

Strolling into the fields one day, idly smoking my cigar later on in
the year, groups of girls and women were at work. I talked to the
field foreman and looked at the girls, especially the younger ones, and
wondered if they had smaller cunts than Molly; of one whether she had
any hair on her cunt at all. Some were apparently not more than twelve
years of age. I longed to see their cunts, and joked with one or two of
the larger girls; but a decided longing for young cunts had set in on
me. "Pender," said I one day, "what a lot of fast-looking chits there
are in the fields." "They are a bad lot," said she, "there is one gal
there only just fourteen in the family way." I was just going to fuck
Pender, and daresay finished quickly enough, for at that age if I was
fucking, and thought of anything very baudy; with a sudden spasm I spent
right off, even if I had only