her sex, to me at least, who had never made any other com-
parison...

     I lay then all tame and passive as she could wish, whilst
her freedom raised no other emotions but those of a strange,
and, till then, unfelt pleasure.  Every part of me was open 
and exposed to the licentious courses of her hands, which,
like a lambent fire, ran over my whole body, and thaw'd all
coldness as they went.

     My breasts, if it is not too bold a figure to call so
two hard, firm, rising hillocks, that just began to shew them-
selves, or signify anything to the touch, employ'd and amus'd
her hands a-while, till, slipping down lower, over a smooth
track, she could just feel the soft silky down that had but a
few months before put forth and garnish'd the mount-pleasant
of those parts, and promised to spread a grateful shelter over
the seat of the most exquisite sensation, and which had been,
till that instant, the seat of the most insensible innocence.
Her fingers play'd and strove to twine in the young tendrils 
of that moss, which nature has contrived at once for use and
ornament.

     But, not contented with these outer posts, she now 
attempts the main spot, and began to twitch, to insinuate,
and at length to force an introduction of a finger into the
quick itself, in such a manner, that had she not proceeded
by insensible gradations that inflamed me beyond the power of
modesty to oppose its resistance to their progress, I should
have jump'd out of bed and cried for help against such strange
assaults.

     Instead of which, her lascivious touches had lighted up
a new fire that wanton'd through all my veins, but fix'd with
violence in that center appointed them by nature, where the
first strange hands were now busied in feeling, squeezing,
compressing the lips, then opening them again, with a finger
between, till an "Oh!" express'd her hurting me, where the
narrowness of the unbroken passage refused it entrance to any
depth.

     In the meantime, the extension of my limbs, languid
stretchings, sighs, short heavings, all conspired to assure
that experienced wanton that I was more pleased than offended
at her proceedings, which she seasoned with repeated kisses
and exclamations, such as "Oh! what a charming creature thou
art! . . . What a happy man will he be that first makes a 
woman of you! . . . Oh! that I were a man for your sake! ...
with the like broken expressions, interrupted by kisses as
fierce and fervent as ever I received from the other sex.

     For my part, I was transported, confused, and out of
myself; feelings so new were too much for me.  My heated 
and alarm'd senses were in a tumult that robbed me of all
liberty of thought; tears of pleasure gush'd from my eyes,
and somewhat assuaged the fire that rag'd all over me.

     Phoebe, herself, the hackney'd, thorough-bred Phoebe, 
to whom all modes and devices of pleasure were known and
familiar, found, it seems, in this exercise of her art to
break young girls, the gratification of one of those arbi-
trary tastes, for which there is no accounting.  Not that
she hated men, or did not even prefer them to her own sex;
but when she met with such occasions as this was, a satiety
of enjoyments in the common road, perhaps too, a secret
bias, inclined her to make the most of pleasure, wherever
she could find it, without distinction of sexes.  In this
view, now well assured that she had, by her touches, suf-
ficiently inflamed me for her purpose, she roll'd down
the bed-cloaths gently, and I saw myself stretched nak'd,
my shift being turned up to my neck, whilst I had no power
or sense to oppose it.  Even my glowing blushes expressed
more desire than modesty, whilst the candle, left (to be
sure not undesignedly) burning, threw a full light on my
whole body.

     "No!" says Phoebe, "you must not, my sweet girl, think
to hide all these treasures from me.  My sight must be
feasted as well as my touch . . . I must devour with my 
eyes this springing BOSOM . . . Suffer me to kiss it . . .
I have not seen it enough . . . Let me kiss it once more
. . . What firm, smooth, white flesh is here! . . . How
delicately shaped! . . . Then this delicious down!  Oh!
let me view the small, dear, tender cleft! . . . This is
too much, I cannot bear it! . . . I must . . . I must . . ."
Here she took my hand, and in a transport carried it where
you will easily guess.  But what a difference in the state
of the same thing! . . . A spreading thicket of bushy curls
marked the full-grown, complete woman.  Then the cavity to 
which she guided my hand easily received it; and as soon as
she felt it within her, she moved herself to and fro, with
so rapid a friction that I presently withdrew it, wet and
clammy, when instantly Phoebe grew more composed, after two
or three sighs, and heart-fetched Oh's! and giving me a
kiss that seemed to exhale her soul through her lips, she
replaced the bed-cloaths over us.  What pleasure she had
found I will not say; but this I know, that the first sparks
of kindling nature, the first ideas of pollution, were 
caught by me that night; and that the acquaintance and 
communication with the bad of our own sex, is often as fatal