e we are
spending, together this time.

I unlock the door, go back to the dining-room, she strolls out into the
garden, cook speaks to her out of the window. "Where is master Wattie?"
"In the dining-room I suppose." Soon out I stroll into the garden,
play with Tommy of course, she can scarcely look me in the face, she is
blushing like a rose. "Was it not lovely, Charlotte, is not your thing
wet?" In she rushes with Tom, soon I follow, cook is still upstairs.
"Come, be quick." Again the bolt, again we fuck, she walks off into the
garden with Tommy, and her cunt full, and cook and she chat from the
window. How we laughed about it afterwards.

Modesty retired after this, we gave way to our inclinations, she
refusing but always letting me if we got a chance! We were still green
and timid, at the end of three weeks we only had done it a dozen times
or so, always with the cook in the house, always with fear. I was
longing for complete enjoyment of all my senses, had never yet seen
her cunt, except for a minute at a time, was mad for "the naked limb
entwined with limb," and all I had read of in amatory poetry. I had
gained years in boldness and manhood, and although nervous, began to
practice what I had heard.

I heard of accommodation houses, where people could have bed-rooms and
no questions were asked; and found one not far from my aunt's, although
she lived in the best quarter of London. Just before Charlotte's day
out, I went to my aunt, complained of my mother's meanness, and she gave
me a sovereign. On my way home, I loitered a full hour in the street
with the baudy house, marked it so as to know it in the day, and saw
couples go in, as my knowing friend who had told said I should. The next
day instead of going to college, and risking discovery, I waited till
Charlotte joined me, took a hackney coach to the street, and
telling Charlotte it was a tavern walked to the door with her, to my
astonishment it was closed. Disconcerted I nearly turned back, but rang
the bell. Charlotte said she would not go in. The door opened, a woman
said, "Why did you not push the door?" Oh! the shame I felt as I went
into that baudy house with Charlotte; the woman seemed to hesitate, or
so I fancied, before she gave us a room.

It was a gentleman's house, although the room cost but five shillings:
red curtains, looking-glasses, wax lights, clean linen, a huge chair, a
large bed, and a cheval-glass, large enough for the biggest couple to