Poncho Ilia - With this ring, I thee lust

But philosophical observations aside, writing this book is serving a lot of purposes. First, I'm promised, in writing, with a very good contract, that I'll make a minimum of thirty thousand dollars and probably more, since one of my old flames is already reading the first chapters with the idea of making it into a movie. Aside from the money, which I love, writing it is giving me a chance to look at myself and discover myself. It's bringing home to me the contrast between the Kitsy McRae you see in the commercials, on the covers of magazines, in the movies, and the little girl from Old Town called Ruby Gore who once bought the Crown of Queen of the Mackerel Festival by walking in high heels over the body of an old man.

There are those in our society who use me, Kitsy McRae, as an example of decadence. I am damned in certain quarters as being completely amoral. Hell, I'll admit that. At least where sex is concerned. But, you see, I don't consider sex to be in the field of morality. I consider sex to be in the area of personal choice and, although I didn't have much of a choice in the beginning, I've certainly learned enough to know that I have a choice now and I choose to let my body enjoy itself. I choose to have sex when and where I please so long as it doesn't hurt… too badly. Some pain can add.

Admittedly, I was trained early that my body was good for just one thing, giving a man pleasure. Perhaps it would serve a purpose, before telling you about the great Mackerel Festival and all the other events which followed, to go back to my formative years and show you how I developed sexually.

Incest is a shuddery word. I think incest is bad in the minds of most people for one damned simple reason. I think it's gotten in bad because women of age, say of forty, fat, sloppy, just couldn't stand the competition from teen-age daughters. I mean, take an average household, an average family. There's a sixteen year old girl with slim hips, nice, tight little breasts, a cute face. And there's mama, over forty, letting herself go to pot, having a big belly, fat, doughy thighs, her hair stringy and unwashed half the time. She doesn't give a shit. She looks like hell. And papa, although he, too, might be over the hill, is still a man who can see the cute little figure of his daughter and think it's great and maybe get a little dreamy about the time when he was screwing girls just like that. Then he goes to bed with mama and has to fight his way through rolls of fat to find her unwashed cunt.

I mean, given a choice, mama would be exiled to the kitchen and the man would be sleeping with daughter all the time. So mama, through the centuries, shows that incest is evil, perverted and sinful. Like, incest doesn't always produce idiots. Take the Egyptians. They, the rulers, had an incestuous society and they kept a damned fine civilization going for six thousand years.

So I don't cringe and call myself evil because I used to screw my father and my brother. Shit, I loved every minute of it. I remember well the first time Ruf and I were able to complete the act. We'd been' playing around for a long time and no one thought anything of our sleeping together. Hell, we had to. There weren't enough beds in the house. And we took baths together because we had to heat the water on the stove and by taking a bath together we saved on water and wood and labor. So I knew from the time I was a baby that Ruf and I were different. I resented it for a long time, because he seemed to have so much fun with his weenie. That's what he-called it. When we started becoming aware of sex-he was aware of it first, of course, his weenie was a little worm of a thing and I paid no attention to it most of the time. Then someone taught him that there were things to do with it and he started educating me. We'd go to bed at night and I'd feel him moving and I'd tell him to stop it so I could go to sleep. Finally, I realized that he was doing something to his weenie.

I guess he felt guilty, because the first time I reached over and felt his hand on his weenie, which had changed from a little worm into a hard little stick, he made me move over and he stopped. But it didn't take long for me to know when he was playing with himself and I'd lie there and listen and wonder why he was doing it. I asked and he said it felt good and that if I told mama he'd whup me. I said I wouldn't tell if he'd let me do it. He sort of snickered. So I put my hand on his hard little stick and fumbled around and he showed me how to do it, moving the foreskin up and down, holding it just so in my hand and moving my hand slow and then fast and when I made him come for the first time and the little stick throbbed in my hand and lie made grunting sounds, I didn't know what was going on.

Out behind the outhouse, he made me, asked me, he didn't have to make me, take down my panties and show him my "thing." He fingered it and played with it and told me that if he could put his weenie in me that we'd both feel good. Hell, the way he enjoyed it when I played with his weenie, I was willing to try anything to feel the way he seemed to feel. We tried it standing up against the side of the outhouse and he couldn't get it in. I had my legs close together, not knowing anything about how to do it and he didn't know much more. We played around and couldn't do anything and then I ended it by playing with his weenie until it throbbed.

I must have been about seven when I started masturbating Ruf. And that went on, oh, a couple or three years before Ruf, all excited, with a hard on, got me into the bedroom one afternoon with no one else in the house. He had one of the old fashioned cartoon pora booklets showing Popeye and Olive cutting it. He said, "See, this is the way they do it." Olive was on her back, her legs thrown up to the ceiling, and Popeye was thrusting a huge cock into her and grinning happily.

"I guess I have to- take all my clothes off, huh?" I asked. "I reckon so," he agreed. "Me too."

So we skinned out and I lay down on the bed, threw my legs up in the air and Ruf crawled between them with his erection and started trying to punch into my little girl's twat. I, of course, was completely dry and tight as hell and he couldn't find the hole. He tried to put it into my belly, into the pudenda and into my anus. I balked at that.

We must have been backassward, because it took us about two weeks, even after seeing how it was done, before, one day, Ruf punched and used his hips and I felt his weenie slip in and push hard and I yelled, because it hurt, I was so dry, but he, feeling his cock in me, wouldn't let me up and so, about ten, I was no longer virgin, having been penetrated by my brother.

I felt him throb in me and I kept waiting for that good, good feeling he'd promised me. He kept talking about how great fucking was and I didn't get the first thrill. He went so fast that I felt nothing. I was game, however, and the next time he wanted me to take all my clothes off I did. I stuck my feet pointed-toed up in the air, like in the fucking cartoons, and he went at it. Nothing. "Shit," I said. "I ain't gonna let you do it any more."

He fussed and fumed and tried, for a long time, to do it again, but I wasn't having any of it. I could get my good feeling from rubbing myself with a soapy wash cloth or by rubbing myself, after having put some butter on my twat. I wasn't going to let Ruf have fun when I didn't just because he wanted to. We had some grand fights and he tried to rape me a couple of times, but when you're about the same size, Ruf was still just a kid and didn't do his growing until later, it's hard for a boy to rape a girl, especially when her twat is dry and tight.

I was wondering, at this'stage of my life, if I hadn't been cheated by being made a girl. Ruf told me about screwing a girl down the road and how much fun it was, but I wouldn't believe him when he said she enjoyed it, too. All I ever felt with Ruf was stuffed. I went on for a few years doing my thing. I mean, I'd play with myself until I was panting and shivery and then I'd come and feel good and lie there and doze for a while and do it again.