Poncho Ilia - With this ring, I thee lust

After my first big Hollywood movie, for which I received an Oscar, as you may recall, Dirk, my old sex film director, came to wild America. I saw him, of course. I was on top of the heap and he was down. He'd been having a rough time. He wanted to release the stags we'd made, making my identity known. He said we could make a million. I said I'd already made a million and that I was not going to do it, not right now. The world wasn't ready for it. Dirk threatened to do it on his own and I called my lawyer and we had a three-way discussion. My lawyer came up with this idea.

"Your image was built on sex Kitsy. Passion's Queen was pure sex and the whole industry knows how you achieved that climax scene. The world is changing. People don't condemn you for being sexy, they envy you. Now, while it isn't a good idea to release those films and say, definitely, that it's Kitsy McRae doing all those things, I think we could get away with asking, Is This Kitsy McRae? See what I mean?"

"I got it," Dirk said.

"We, of course, deny it and file a huge suit against Dirk." "Hey," Dirk yelled.

"Which, of course, will be dropped- after bleeding it for all the publicity we can get," I said. "I get the drift." Exactly.

So underground theaters began to show the long, feature film we put together out of my many and varied sex scenes shot under Carlo and the question was raised. It caused a furor. Me, the Oscar winner, a paid fucker? Heavens. It hit every newspaper in the world and then we hit our own company, which we'd formed with Dirk, with a huge suit and got even more publicity and then we started selling copies of the short things I'd done and the gross from the feature and the shorts was four point four million. And then Dirk made a public confession, that he'd deliberately chosen a girl who looked somewhat like me, and we proved that I couldn't have made the films because^! was in Pakistan or some sort of shit and Dirk, with a half million in cash, went back to jolly old to drink himself into happy oblivion; I pocketed my share of the loot, went off on a cruise with, well, never mind his name, his wife might be reading, and came back to ink a contract for the biggest spectacular movie since Cecil Bee. I was twenty-three.

After that movie, which was filmed in Africa, I was tired. I had offers from everywhere. I wanted some time off. I took it and flew in a nice man's private jet to Aruba, where he had this wild layout, and fucked myself into relaxation and then spent some time wondering where to go next. I had a share of the gross on my latest movie and it was going to outpull anything since Gone With The Wind. I decided not to do a movie for a year or so and called old Ruf, who was still in Europe, and he flew over and we went back down to Cape County and, once, we fucked in the old shack where we'd grown up, mean and quick, me leaning against a wall.

"We've come a long way, huh Ruby?" he asked, wiping his cock on his handkerchief.

As I sit here now, rereading this, my first book, I have to agree. We'd come a long way and fucking there in that tumble down shack, standing up, was sort of a symbol of coming full circle. Ruby Gore, starting out playing with herself and dreaming dreams, fucking her family, then making it big'and coming back to fuck her brother against a wall for the last time. Ruf was getting married.

Maybe, someday, I will, too. Get married, I mean. But not now. I'm leaving this lovely place with my completed manuscript, and then there's another movie, and some commercials to be shot up jn New York. And the head of the agency where I do the commercials is a nice man with a desire to tickle my body with feathers before he makes wild love to me.

I rested. I've told you about me, about Ruby Gore or Kitsy McRae. I think I owe it to the world, because, somewhere there's some small girl with dreams and I'd like for her to know that she doesn't have to settle for marrying the local undertaker or a service station mechanic, not that there's anything wrong with that, but the Great American Dream still lives. I think I've proven that If I can do it, then this little girl with dreams can do it.

Good looking chick, good luck to you. You were given certain equipment. You have as much of it as I do, tits, body, ass, hips, belly, face. Use it wisely.