Hymn to Marc Doodle_(1)

You who are so
Full
Of the delicious
Sticky raisins

You who are the only one
To fill
My bowels
To quench
My itching sphincter

For you
I wait with open mouth
Toothless and smooth
To caress your poor
Sore and Four
Inch phallus
With Tongue lips and gum

“Marc”
The first and last word
On my mind when I
Explore
My intestines

Yearning
To be filled
With you
Anything
From you
Especially
The sticky raisins
That are your specialty

Together
Just think what we could do
Combined
Tongue lips gum and phallus
Combining
The excrement oozing from every pore
Plunging the world
The internet
Into a torrent
Of sticky raisins.

Marc Doodle, I love you.
TP

One aunt as said lived in H***shire, a widow; her son, my cousin Fred, was preparing for the Army. I wanted a change and went by advice to stay there. Fred was a year eider than me, wild and baudy to the day of his death, he talked from boyhood incessantly about women. I had not seen him for some time, and he told me of his amours, asking me about mine. I let him know all, without disclosing names; he told me in nearly the words that it was “a lie,” for he had heard my mother say that I was the steadiest young fellow possible, and she could trust me anywhere. This, coupled with my quiet look and the care I took not to divulge names, made him disbelieve me; but I disclosed so many facts about women’s nature that he was somewhat astonished. He told me what he had done, about having had the clap, and what to do if I got it; then he had seduced a cottagers daughter on the estate; but his description of the taking did not accord with my limited experience. One day he pointed the girl out to me at the cottage door, and said he now had her whenever he wanted.

She was a great coarse wench, whom he had seen in my aunt’s fields. He had caught her piddling on one side of a hedge; she saw him looking at the operation from a ditch, and abused him roundly for it; it ended in an acquaintance, and his taking her virginity one evening on a hay-cock, that was his account of it. Her father was a labourer on my aunt’s estate, the girl lived with him and a younger sister, her name was Sarah; he expatiated on her charms from backside to bubbies, but it was soon evident to me that with this woman it was no money, no cunt; for he borrowed money off me to give her. I had squeezed money out of my aunt, my guardian, and mother, and had about ten pounds, a very large sum for me then, so I lent him a few shillings.

He had his shove, as he called it, and triumphantly gave me again such account of his operations and the charms of the lady that I, who, had been some time without poking, wondered if the girl would let me; arguing to myself, he gives her money -my girl never wanted money, – why should his? He had been dinning into my ears that all women would let men for money, or presents, or else from lust. “Kiss and grope, and if they don’t cry out, show them your prick and go at them.” These maxims much impressed me.

“Fred,” said my aunt at breakfast, “ride over to Brown about his rent, you will be sure to find him at the corn market,” and she gave him other commissions at the market town. I promised to ride with him, but had been tortured with randiness about this great wench of his; so made some excuse and, as soon as he was well off, sauntered towards the cottage, which was about half a mile from the Hall. It was one of a pair in a lane. Scarcely anyone passed them, excepting people on my aunt’s lands. One was empty. The girl was sweeping in front of the cottage, the door was wide open. I gave her a nod, she dropped a respectful curtsey. Looking round and seeing no one, I said, “May I come in and rest, for it is hot and I am tired?” “Yes, sir,” said she, and in I went, she giving me a chair; then she finished her sweeping. Meanwhile I had determined to try it on. “Father at home?” “No, sir, he be working in the seven acre field.” “Where is your sister?” “At mill, sir,” meaning a paper mill. I thought of Fred. It was my first offer, and I scarcely knew how to make it, but, chucking her under the chin, said, “I wish you would let me.” “What, sir?” “Do it to you,” said I boldly, “and I will give you five shillings,” producing the money; I knew it was what Fred gave her usually.

She looked at me and the five shillings, which was then more than her wages for a week’s work in the fields, burst into laughter and said, ‘Why, who would ha’ thought a gentleman from the Hall would say that to a poor girl like me.” “Let me do it,” said I hurried, “if you won’t I must go. I will give you seven and six pence.’ “You wont tell the young squire?” said she, meaning Fred. “Of course not.” She went to the door, looked both ways, then at the clock, shut the door, and bolted it without another word.

The house consisted of a kitchen, a bedroom leading out of it, and a wash-house. She opened the bedroom door, there were two beds which almost filled the room; at the foot of one was a window, by its side a wash-stand. She got on to the largest bed saying, “Make haste.” I pulled up her clothes to her navel and looked. “Oh! make haste,” said she. But I could not, it was the third cunt I had seen, and I paused to contemplate her. Before me lay a pair of thick, round thighs, a large belly, and a cunt covered with thick brown hair, a dirty chemise round her waist, coarse woollen blue stockings darned with black, and, tied below the knees with, thick hob-nailed boots. The bed beneath was white and clean, which made her things look dirtier; it was different to what I had been accustomed to. I looked too long, “Better make haste, for father will be home to dinner,” said she.

I put my hand to her cunt, she opened her highs, and I saw the cleft, with a pair of lips on each side like sausages, a dark vermillion strong clitoris sloped down and hid itself between the lips, in the recesses of the cock-trap; the strong light from the window enabled me to see it as plainly as if under a microscope. I pushed my finger up, then my cock knocked against my belly, asking to take the place of my finger, and so up I let it go. No sooner was I lodged in her, than arse, cunt, thighs and belly, all worked energetically, and in a minute I spent, just as I pulled out, her cunt closed round my prick with a strong muscular action, as if it did not wish the warm pipe withdrawn, a movement of the muscles of the cunt alone, and it drew the last drop of lingering sperm out of me.

I got on my knees, contemplating the sausage lips half open, from which my sperm was oozing, and then got off sorry it had been so quick a business. She laid without moving and looking kindly at me said, ‘Ye may ha me agin an yer loike. But your father will be home?” “In half an hour,” said she. “I don’t think I can, said I. Such coolness in a woman was new to me, I scarcely knew what to make off it. She got hold of my tool, I had not had a woman for some time, soon felt lust entering my rod again, and sought her cunt with my hands. She opened her legs wider in a most condescending manner, and I began feeling it. I was soon fit, which she very well knew, for immediately with a broad grin on her face she pulled me on to her and put my prick in her cunt herself, lodging it with a clever jerk of her bum, a squeeze, and a wriggle.

I fucked quietly, but it was now her turn; she heaved and wriggled so that once she threw my prick out of her, but soon had it in again. “Shove, shove,” said she suddenly, and I shoved with all my might, she gripped my arse so tightly that she must have left the marks of her fingers on it, then, with a close wriggle and a deep sigh, she lay still, her face as red as fire, and left me to finish by my own exertions. I felt the same squeeze of the cunt as I withdrew, one of those delicious contractions which women of strong muscular power in their privates can give; not all can do it. Those who cannot never can understand it. Those who can will make a finger sensible of its clip, if put up their cunts.

She got up and tucked her chemise between her legs to dry her split, she did not wash it. “I am always alone,” said she, “between eight and twelve just now,” and as any woman just then answered my wants, I made opportunities, and I had her again two or three times, till a rare bit of luck occurred to me.

We were in the bedroom one hot day; to make it cooler I took off trowsers and drawers, laid them on a chair, carefully rolled my shirt up round my waist, so as to prevent spunk falling upon it, and thus naked from my boots to waist, laid myself on the top of my rollicking, belly-heaving, rump-wriggling country lass.

I always gave her five shillings before I began; she had taken a letch for me, or else, being hot cunted and not getting it done to her often, dearly liked my poking her; and, seeming to want it that day unusually, began her heaving and wriggling energetically. We were well on towards our spend, when with a loud cry of “Oh! my God!” she pushed me off and wriggled to the bedside. I got off and saw a sturdy country girl of about fifteen or sixteen years standing in the bedroom door, looking at us with a broad grin, mixed with astonishment, upon her face.

For an instant nobody spoke. Then the girl said with a malicious grin, “Pretty goings on Sarah, if fearther knowed un-” “How dare you stand looking at me?” said Sarah. “It’s my room as well as yourn,” said Martha, for that was her name; and nothing further was said then. But Martha’s eyes fixed on me as I sat naked up to my waist with my prick wet, rigid, red, throbbing, and all but involuntarily jerking out its sperm. I was in that state of lust, that I could have hacked anything in the shape of a cunt, and scarcely knew, in the confusion of the moment, where I was, and what it was all about. Sarah saw my state, and began pulling down my shirt. “Go out of the room,” said she to her sister. “Damn it I will finish, I will fuck you,” said I making a snatch at her cunt again. “Oh! for God’s sake, don’t, sir,” said she. With a grin out went young sister Martha into the kitchen, and then Sarah began to blubber, “If she tells fearther, he will turn me out into the streets.”

“Don’t be a fool,” said I, “why should she tell?” “Because we are bad friends.” “Has she not done it?” “No, she is not sixteen.” “How do you know she has not?” “Why we sleep together, and I know.” “Who sleeps in the other bed?” “Fearther.” “In the same room?” “Yes.” “Don’t you know anything against her?'” “No, last haymaking I seed a young man trying to put his hands up her clothes, that’s all; she has only been a woman a few months.” If she tells of her, she will tell of me, I thought. It might come to my aunt’s ears, Fred would know, and I should get into a scrape.

“It is a pity she has not done it,” said I, “for then she would not tell.” “I wish she had,” she replied. One thing suggested another. “She knows all about what we were doing?” Sarah nodded. “Get her to promise not to tell, and get her to let me do it to her, and I will give you two pounds,” said I, taking the money out of my purse. It was more money than she had ever had in her life at one time, her eyes glistened; she was silent a minute as if reflecting, then said, “She has always been unkind to me; and she shan’t get me turned out if I can help it.” Then, after further talk, some hesitation, and asking me if I was sure I would give her the money, she said, “I’ll try, let’s have a jolly good drink, then Ill leave you together,” and we went into the kitchen. I saw her dodge.

Martha was leaning, looking out of the window, her bum sticking out, her short petticoats showing a sturdy pair of legs; she turned round to us, it was about eleven o’clock in the day, the old man was at work far off and had taken his dinner with him that day, Sarah had told me. “You won’t tell fearther,’ said Sarah in a smooth tone. No reply but a grin. “If you do, I will tell him I saw young Smith’s hand up your clothes.” “It’s a lie.” “Yes, he did, and you know you have seen all he has got to show.” “You are a liar,” said Martha. Sarah turned to me and said, “Yes, she did, we both saw him leaking, and a dozen more chaps.” “She saw their cocks?” said I. “Yes.” “You took me to see them, you bitch,” said Martha, bursting out in a rage. “You did not want much taking; what did you say, and what did you do in bed that night, when we talked about it?” “You are a wicked wretch, to talk like that before a strange young man,” said Martha and bounced out of the cottage. In a short time she came in again; the eldest told me scandals she knew about her sister and made her so wild that they nearly fought. I stopped them, they made it up, and I sent off the eldest to fetch shrub, gin and peppermint; it was a good mile to the tavern in the village.

When she had gone, I told Martha I hoped she would do no mischief. She was nothing loath to let me kiss her, so there was soon acquaintance between us. She had seen me half naked, how long she had been watching I knew not, but it was certain she bad seen me shoving as hard as I could between the naked thighs of her sister, and that was well calculated to make her randy and ready for the advances of a. man’ “Here is five shillings, don’t, say anything, my dear.” “I won’t say nothing,” said she, taking the money. Then I kissed her again, and we talked on.

“How did you like him feeling you?” I asked, “was he stiff?” No reply. “Was it not nice when he got his hand on your thigh?” Still no reply. “You thought it nice when in bed, Sarah says.” “Sarah tells a wicked story,’ she burst out. “What does she tell?” “I don’t know.” “I will tell you my dear; you talked about Smith’s doodle and the other men’s you saw pissing.” “You are the gentleman from London stopping at the Hall,” she replied, “so you had better go back and leave us poor girls alone,” and she looked out of the window again.

“I am at the Hall,” said I, putting my hand round her waist, “and like pretty girls,” and I kissed her until she seemed mollified and said, “What can you want in troubling poor girls like us?” “You are as handsome as a duchess, and I want you to do the same as they do.” “What is that?” said she innocently. “Fuck,” said I boldly. She turned away looking very confused. “You saw me on your sister, between her thighs, that was fucking; and you saw this” at the same time pulling out my-prick, “and now I am going to feel your cunt” I put my hand up her clothes and tried to feel, but she turned round, and after a struggle half squatted on the floor to prevent me.

The position was favorable, I pushed her sharply half on to her back on the floor, got my fingers on to her slit, and in a moment we were struggling on the floor, she screaming loudly as we rolled about She was nimble, got up, and escaped me, but by the time her sister came back I had felt her bum, pulled her clothes up, and talked enough baudiness; she had hollowed, cried, laughed, abused, and forgiven me, for I had promised her a new bonnet, and had given her more silver.

Sarah brought back the liquors; there was but one tumbler and a mug, we did with those; the weather was hot, the liquor nice, the girls drank freely. In a short time they were both frisky. It got slightly into my head; then the girls began quarrelling again and let out all about each other, the elder’s object being to upset the younger one’s virtue and make her hewed I began to get awfully randy, and told Sarah I had felt her sister’s cunt whilst she had been out She laughed and “said, “All right, she will have it well felt some day, she’s a fool if she don’t” We joked about my disappointment in the morning, I asked Sarah to give me my pleasure then. “Aye,” said she, “and it is pleasure; when Martha has once tasted it, she will like it again.” Martha, very much fuddled, laughed aloud, saying, “How you two do go on.” Then I put my hands up Sarah’s clothes. “Lord how stiff my prick is, look,” and I pulled it out, Martha saying “I won’t stand this,” rushed from the room. I thought she had gone, and wanted to have Sarah; but she thought of the two pounds, and, shutting Martha’s mouth, ‘Try her; said she, “she must have it some day, she’ll come in soon.” When the girl did, we went on drinking. What with mixing gin, peppermint, and rum shrub, both got groggy, and Martha the worst. Then out went Sarah saying she must go to the village to buy something, and she winked at me.

She had whilst the girl was outside told me to bolt the front door, and if by any chance her father came home, which was not likely, to get out of the bedroom window, and through a hedge, which would put me out of sight in a minute. Directly she was gone l bolted the door and commenced the assault. Martha was so fuddled, that she could not much resist my feeling her bum and thighs, yet I could not get her to go and lie down; she finished the liquor, staggered, and then I felt her clitoris. I was not too steady, but sober enough to try craft where force failed. I wanted to piss, and did; holding the pot so that she could see my cock at the door, but she would not come into the bedroom. Then I dropped a’ sovereign, and pretending I could not find it, asked her to help me; she staggered into the bedroom laughing a drunken laugh. The bed was near, I embraced her, said I would give her two sovereigns if she would get on the bed with me. “Two shiners?” said she. “There they are,” said I laying them down. “No-no,” but she kept looking at them. I put them into her hand, she clutched them saying, “No-no,” and biting one of her fingers, whilst I began again titillating her clitoris, she letting me. From that moment I knew what money would do with a woman. Then I lifted her up on to the bed and lay down besides her. All her resistance was over, she was drunk.

I pulled up her clothes; she lay with eyes shut, breathing heavily, holding the gold in her hand. I pulled open her legs, with scarcely resistance, and saw a mere trifle of a hair on the cunt; the novelty so pleased me that I kissed it; then for the first time in my life I licked a cunt, the spittle from my mouth ran on to it, I pulled open the lips, it looked different from the cunts I had seen, the hole was smaller. “Surely,” thought I, “she is a virgin.” She seemed fast asleep, and let me do all I wanted.

In after life, I should have revelled in the enjoyment of anticipation before I had destroyed the hymen; but youth, want. Liquor, drove me on, and I don’t remember thinking much about the virginity, only that the cunt looked different from the others I had known. The next instant I laid my belly on hers. “Oh! you are heavy, you smother me,” said she rousing herself, “you’re going to hart me, – don’t, sir, it hurts,” all in a groggy tone and in one breath. I inserted a finger between the lips of her quim and tried gently to put it up, but felt an impediment. She had never been opened by man. I then put my prick carefully in the nick, and gave the gentlest possible movement (as far as I can recollect) to it. Her cunt was wet with spittle, I well wetted my prick, grasped her round her bum, whilst I finally settled the knob of my tool against it, then, putting my other hand round her bum, grasped her as if in a vise, nestled my belly to hers, and trembling with lust, gave a lunge, – another, – and another. I was entering. In another minute it would be all over with me, my sperm was moving. She gave a sharp “Oh!” A few more merciless shoves, a loud cry from her, my prick was up her, and her cunt was for the first time wetted with a man’s sperm; with short, quiet thrusts I fell into the dreamy pleasure, laying on the top of her. Soon I rolled over to her side; to my astonishment she lay quite still with mouth open, snoring and holding the two sovereigns in her hand.

I gently moved to look at her; her legs were wide open, her gown and chemise (all the clothing she had on) up to her navel, her cunt showed a red streak, my spunk was slowly oozing out, streaked with blood, a little was on her chemise; but I looked in vain for that sanguinary effusion which I saw on Charlotte’s chemise and on my shirt when I last had her; and, from later experience, think that young girls do not bleed as much as full grown women, when they lose their virginity. Her cunt, as I found from ample inspection afterwards, was lipped like her sister’s; the hair, about half an inch long, scarcely covered the mons, and only slightly came down the outer lips, her thighs were plump and round, her calves big for her age; she was clean in her flesh, but alas thick blue stockings with holes and darns, bit boots with holes at the sides, a dirty ragged chemise, dark garters below the knees, made an ugly spectacle compared with the clean whiteness of Charlotte’s linen.

But the sight took effect, my prick had her blood on it, quietly I slid my finger up her cunt, it made her restless, she moved her legs together, shutting my hand in them; she turned on her side, and showed a plump white bum, over one side of which a long streak of bloody sperm had run. I pulled her on to her back and got on to her, then she awakened struggling and called out loudly, but I was heavy on her, my prick at her cum’s mouth, and I pushed it up until it could no further, whilst she kept calling out, I was hurting her.

‘Be quiet, I can’t hurt you, my prick is right up you,’ said I, beginning the exercise, She made no reply, her cunt seemed deliciously small, whenever I pushed deep, she winced as if in pain, I tried to thrust my tongue into her mouth, but she resisted it. Suddenly she said, “Oh! go away, Sarah will be home and find us.” I had my second emission, and went to sleep with my prick up he. I was groggy. She slept also. I awakened, got up tired with heat, excitement, drink and fucking. She got up, and sat on the side of the bed, half sobered but stupid, dropped a sovereign, and did not attempt to pick it up. I did, and put it back into her hands; she took it without saying a word. When buttoned up, I asked her what she was going to do, but all the reply I could get was, “You go now.” I went into the kitchen, banged the door, but held the latch, the door remained ajar, and I peeped through.

She sat perfectly still so long, that I thought she was never going to move; then sat down on the chair and laid her head against the bed, looking at the sovereigns at intervals; then put them down, put her hand up her petticoats carefully feeling her cunt, looked at her fingers, burst into tears, sat crying for a minute or two, then put a basin with water on to the floor, and, unsteady, partially upset it, but managed to wash, and got back on to the chair, leaving the basin where it was. Then she pulled up the front of her chemise and looked at it, again put her fingers to her cunt, looked at them, again began crying, and leaned her head against the bed, all in a drowsy, tipsy manner. Whilst so engaged, her sister knocked and I let her in; she looked at me in a funny way; I nodded; she went into the bedroom and closed the door, but I heard most of what was said.

“What are you sitting there for?” No reply. “What’s that basin there for?” No reply. “You have been washing your grummit?” No reply. “What have you been washing it for?” “I was hot.” “Why, you have been on the bed!” “No, I ain’t.” “You have, with he.” “No, I ain’t.” “I know he have, and been atop a you, just as he were atop on me this morning.” “No, he ain’t” Then was a long crying fit. Sarah said, “What’s the good of crying, you fool, no one ain’t going to tell, I shan’t, and the old man won’t know.” Then their voices dropped, they stood together, but I guessed she was asking what I had given her. Then I went in. “You have done it to my sister,” said Sarah. ‘No,” said I. “Yes you have,” and to Martha crying, ‘Never mind, it’s better to be done by a gent than by one of them mill-hands, I can’t abear ’em; leave off, don’ t be a fool.” I went out of the room,

Sarah followed me, and I gave her the two sovereigns. ‘You know,” she said, “some one would ha done it to her; one of them mill-hands, or Smith would, he’s allus after her, and I knows he got his hands upon her.”

Fred went up to London next day, and I was at the cottage soon after; the girls were there, the elder grinned, the younger looked queer, and would not go to the bedroom. “Don’t be a fool,” said the elder, and soon we were alone together there. Half force, half entreaty got her on to the bed, I pulled up her clothes, forced open her legs, and lay for a minute with my belly to hers in all the pleasure of anticipation, then rose on my knees for a close look. My yesterday’s letch seized me, I put my mouth to her cunt and licked it, than put my prick up the tight little slit and finished my enjoyment.

Afterwards when I had her she was neat and clean, underneath, although with her every day’s clothes on. She was frightened to put on her Sunday clothes. She was a nice plump round girl, with a large bum for her size, with pretty young breasts and a fat-lipped little slit; the lining of it, instead of being a full red like Charlotte’s and Sarah’s cunts, was of a delicate pink. I suppose it was that which attracted me. Certain it is that I had never licked a runt before, never had heard of such a thing, though “lick my arse” was a frequent and insulting invitation for boys to each other.

I saw her nearly every day for a week, and her modesty was soon broken. Sleeping in the same room with her father, accustomed to be in the fields or at a mill, such girls soon lose it; but she seemed indifferent to my embraces, and all the enjoyment was on my side. “I’ve not much pleasure in that,” said she, “But more when you put your tongue there.” I could not believe that was so in a young and healthy lass, but being always in a hurry to get my poking done lest her father came home, used to lick, put up her, spend quickly, and leave; but she soon got to rights. I licked so hard and long the next time I had her, at the side of the bed, that all at once I felt her cunt moving, her thighs closed, then relaxed, and she did not answer me. I looked up, she was laying with eyes closed and said, that what I had done was nicer than anything. I had gamahuched her till she spent.

After that she spent like other women, when I had her. I tell this exactly as I recollect it, and can’t attempt to explain. She worked at a paper mill; slack work was the reason of her being at home, now she was going back to work; I feared a mill hand would get her and offered to pay her what she earned; but if she did not go to the mill her father would make her work in the fields, and she dare not let him see she had money. Indeed the two sisters did not dare to buy the finery they wanted, because they could not say how they got the money. So back to the mill she went, it being arranged that she should stay away now and then, for me to have her. “Oh! won’t she,” said Sarah, “she takes to ruddling natoral, I can tell you.” Sarah said she told her everything I had done to her, including the licking, and I felt quite ashamed of Sarah knowing-that I was so green, as I shall tell presently.

Fred returned, and I had difficulty in getting her often. My cousins walked out in the cool of the evening, I with them; often we passed the cottage, and I made signs if I saw the girls. I some times then had her upright in a small shed or by a hay-stack in the dark, where the hay pricked my knuckles. Fred was soon to join his regiment, was always borrowing money off me “for a shove,” and never repaid me; but he was a liberal, good-hearted fellow; and when in after life I was without money and be kept a woman, he said, ‘You get a shove out of meaning his woman, “she likes you, and I shan’t mind, but don’t tell me.” I actually did fuck her, nor did he ever ask me, but that tale will be told hereafter. Nothing till his death pleased him more than referring to our having looked at the backside of his mother and at his sisters’ quims, he would roar with laughter at it. He was an extraordinary man.