Poncho Ilia - With this ring, I thee lust

"Ah, Miss McRae," Cartechelli said, "as you know, this picture is an ambitious undertaking. The sets alone would cost much money. And we, frankly, hesitate to risk such a large investment on an unknown actress."

I knew that I could handle the part. But I could see that merely talking to Cartechelli would not do the trick. I'd read and reread the lines of the screen play and I knew them by heart

The picture was about Marie Antoinette. But it was not just another historical show piece, it was an adult study of Marie's life, and as you probably know, Marie Antoinette was a sexual being. That was why I was sure that I could play the part better than any actress living, for I was also a sexual being.

"We will let you know," Cartechelli said. "Please have patience." I waited around for a couple of weeks and the trades 169 printed rumors of Cartechelli trying to get Loren for the part. I breathed a sigh of relief when she stated publi-cally that she would not take it. Then I decided it was time for me to do something. I called Cartechelli. "Look," I said, "I've spent a year getting ready for this part, the least you can do is give me a shot at it." "Of course," he said.

"There's one scene I'd like to do for you. In fact, it's already on film. May I show it to you?"

"I didn't know any of the picture had been filmed," he said. '

"It was just a rush," I said. "But I'd like to show it to you."

I went into Carlo's old office, missing that wop sonofa-bitch something terrible. Roberto Cartechelli was seated behind Carlo's desk. I had the film in my bag. I knew the set-up, so I went into the adjoining room, loaded the film in the projector, cocked it for automatic start from the desk and went back into the room to lower the lights and close the drapes. Cartechelli sat glumly behind the desk. I sat on the corner of it, swinging my leg.

"Mr. Cartechelli, as you know, the intent of this film is to show the human side of those who were riding the crest of that wave of revolution which began to change the world. The author seems to be asking the question, why could not Louis and the members of his court see the discontent of the people? Why did they not realize that things would soon be out of control and institute simple reforms. Historians agree that it would have 4aken very little action on the part of the rulers to avert the Revolution. One important part of the puzzle was the character of Marie Antoinette. And our author has chosen to treat her as a totally sexual being, selfish,

spoiled. Seeing her in this light is important to the overall message of the film." "Yes, yes," he said impatiently.

"Antoinette's mind was between her legs, if you'll excuse the vulgarity," I went on, "and because she was rather indiscrete, she gave the Jacobians much ammunition for their propaganda. They told the people that while the people starved, Antoinette ate caviar and committed adultery with the king's own brother. It was Antoinette's behaviour which helped to precipitate the Revolution and we try, in this movie, to understand her. Thus," I said, getting him ready, "there is one key scene in the first reel. This is the scene which sets the mood for the entire picture, which presents Antoinette as she was."

I pressed the button. The leader I had spliced onto a certain scene began to run through the projector. "She has found that her new husband, the King to be, is not at all, interested in sex because of his deformed penis. She, on the other hand, has been looking forward to marriage. Disappointed, she turns to the Count Carlo was not yet certain just how implicit he could or would be in this scene, but he was definite on one thing. At the moment of Antoinette's satisfaction, there was to be a close-up pf her face, and it was first and foremost in his mind to have that close-up show how much Antoinette enjoyed sex, how much it meant to her."

I paused. "Here she is at the moment of her fulfillment. She has been to a masked ball. She has not removed her mask." This bit was necessary because, of course, what I was showing Cartechelli was shots of me making it with the three stooges.

I came on the screen. I had my eyes closed. My mouth was twisted in a sneer of ecstatic lust. My head rolled from side to side. My teeth showed, held tightly tightly together. My sex showed on my face. The moment went on for a long minute and I felt a twinge, because I knew how I'd been feeling at that glorious moment. It wasn't acting. It was for real. I had one of the three stooges firmly planted in my cunt and I'd been teased by hours of film making into a super case of the hots. I was really climaxing and it was awesome, if I do say so myself. I've told you that when I'm coming the look on my face is eternal woman, eternal sex.

"We shot several takes," I said, as a second scene came on, the same, close-up, my face in bliss.

I sneaked a look at Cartechelli's face. He was frozen. His mouth was open. His eyes were wide, unblinking. He held that pose through three more climaxes, spliced together. There was no other thing on the screen, no man, no indication that I was actually being fucked.

When it was over, I turned on the lights. "If you can find anyone who can play that scene better, I step down. I withdraw from my contract without contest."

He swallowed and cleared his throat. "I must admit, Miss McRae, that I am impressed."

He was impressed enough to call me to the studio for an interview with his hot-shot director. Poor old Dirk had been phased out because of his drinking, but he came out smelling like a rose, because Carlo had done the wise thing, he'd kept his porno film firm separate from the main operation. Dirk got his hands on the contracts, the inventory and he'd made enough loot to buy some equipment, so he was still in business and if the thing didn't go through with Cartechelli I could always go with Dirk and make my living with stag films, But there I was in the main studios, with this fop of a director, and he was talking to me and making me walk

and then I read a few scenes from the screenplay, impressing him because I knew my lines by heart. He told me to go into a dressing room and put on one of the thin, revealing gowns in which Marie Antoinette met with her lovers in the film. I came out. The thing was so thin that you could see all of me, and not hardly leave anything to the imagination. I was just twenty-one years old but I'd been around enough to know when to try to bribe a guy with me. I'd known, for example, that such an attempt would have backfired with Roberto Car-techelli, but in the eyes of my director, Michel Giorelli, I could see the lust which told me that I could influence his thinking with my bod. "Ah," he said, "very nice."

"You be the Count," I said, "and I'll run through the seduction scene in the first reel." "Ah," he said. "I am no actor."

Antoinette, having been rebuffed by Louis, who was going off on a hunting trip, had come to the Count's bedroom in tears. I stood there for a moment and thought all the sad things I could and my eyes began to blink and the tears began to seep out and then, psyched up, I burst into the scene. It went something like, "I hate him, oh, how I hate him," and like that and then the Count tried to soothe her and their bodies came into contact and woops, there was a different feel then.

I stormed through the anger and then, clinging to Michel, I changed and my bare, or almost bare, boobs were up against him and my mound, which was nicely protuberant, was rubbing on his cock and I sent soft and sexy and when I kissed him I knew that I had his interest "You do that well," he said. "Act or kiss?" I asked.

"Both, darling." "I enjoy doing both for the right man," I said.

"Ah," he whispered, and I felt his'cock go hard against me. He put his arms around me. Me and generations of down-trodden women put all we had into the act.