CHAPTER FIVE

In three nights in Puerto Rico I learned a few valuable lessons. I quit saying ain't, for example. I learned that if a girl can give a man what he wants, he'll do almost everything for her. The Congressman offered me a job in Washington. I talked to Pearl about it.

"Honey," she said, "you know I want the best for you. I won't tell you that I'm selfish not wanting you to go away just yet." You see, me and Pearl made it right regularly, and I was getting to sort of like it. I mean, hell, why should a girl reject over fifty-percent of the population of the world as potential sex partners just because they don't have cocks? When we did it it was fun and slow and lovely and sweet and there was always my old boyfriend, Bill, for real cock.

"You could make a good career in Washington," Pearl said, "but maybe there's a better way to get what we both want for you."

What Pearl had in mind was more beauty contests. I think she was a little bit influenced by my being the hottest lover she'd ever had, but she said I was the only really natural beauty she'd ever seen. Well, I was natural, all right.

We went upstate, me wearing my Miss Mackerel crown, and entered the Miss Blueberry contest. I. won. I didn't even have to screw a judge, although there was a nice looking one on the judges panel which I wouldn't have minded screwing, although I found out later that he was a fag.

In that summer I took three more crowns, all local contests. I was a star guest at several other contests, and I was getting a name around my state. Ruby Gore, beauty girl. Pearl started talking about college. I wasn't so sure about that shit, because I felt I'd done my stint in school and wanted something better than listening to dusty old farts talk about the rise and fall of the Roman Empire or something.

Actually, my sex life that summer was not too exciting. Mainly I made it with Pearl and Bill, There was one pretty good night in a mountain town where I was going to get the Miss Mountain Flower Festival crown. We had the poop on it and it looked as if we were wasting our time. It was, first of all, a small time thing, even smaller than my first crown, the Miss Mackerel contest.

This dinky little old mountain town always selected one of its own for Miss Mountain Flower and that was the way it was, just like old Man Worth picking Ms own queen all the time down in my home town. But by this time the J.C.'s of Old Town had discovered that I brought them a few newspaper stories everytime I went out on the beauty contest trail. I guess I got Old Town more publicity than anything since the time the British burned it down in 1777 or something like that. I'm not very good at history. So the J.C,'s offered to foot the bill for me and Pearl to drive the new convertible which I was using for one year as the winner of the Miss Long Leaf Tobacco contest. Off we went to the mountains.

"Even if you don't win we'll have a nice trip," Pearl said.

I wasn't going up there not to win. I'd accumulated quite a nice wardrobe as part of my prizes. That's about all I got out of being the winningest beauty queen in the state, some nice clothes, the loan of a new car for one year and a couple of college scholarships. I couldn't cash in the scholarships for money and I couldn't transfer them and all the time Pearl and my old employer, Julie, kept telling me I should plan to use the scholarships to go to school in the fall.

Anyhow, we set out in this nice new car and I was driving. I got stopped up around Charlotte by a highway fuzz and when I pulled off the road I was thinking like crazy. I didn't want a traffic ticket. So when the fuzz came up and said, in his oh, so original way, "Where's the fire, little lady?" I burst into tears. I'd decided on that route instead of trying to vamp him. It would be awkward, on that well traveled highway, to offer to bribe the fuzz with my bod, so I decided, quickly, on the tears and helplessness routine. I start wailing, with real tears, and telling the poor sonofabitch how I was off in the big world, just a country girl, trying to help my poor old hometown by winning beauty contests and how I'd just not noticed that I was going so damned fast and begging and asking him, "Oh, what can I do, what can I do?"

He said, "There, there." He flushed and shifted from one foot to the other and ended up, although I'd been doing ninety-five in a sixty mile zone, lending me his handkerchief and wishing us the best of luck and telling me, rather gently, to hold it down.

"You should be an actress," Pearl said, as we drove away, and I changed my tears to laughter. Doing!

An actress. Why the hell not? I had the looks for it and there were girls on the screen who didn't act,worth a shit.

"Is this a dagger I see before me?" I hammed it up, laughing. Why the hell not? So I was thinking of that as we drove on into the mountains and came into this little town and checked into the one hotel. In my room I stood in front of the mirror and looked at myself and that was it. I was going to be an actress. I didn't know exactly how, but I was going to do it.

We went to a reception for the queen contestants and the judges and town wheels. There we saw the competition and I almost laughed. I was the only outsider. The rest were locals. There were fat ones and skinny ones and not a damned one of them could come close to me. I circulated and met the judges. There were three men and two women. All were from out of town, but after a little talking with them I found out that two of them, the women, had been local girls and married into the nearby communities, therefore they'd be all for the home folks.

One of the men was local, the organizer of the beauty thing. The other one was a fag decorator from Raleigh and the fifth, the one I started to court, was a country-western singer of small fame, but maybe on his way up, who had grown up in the hills around this little town. He had his own T.V. show and it was syndicated and seen all over the country, although it wasn't on a regular network. He was going to be on the Grand Ole Opry, he said, someday. He'd just been married, but his wife couldn't make the trip. He was full of himself. He was not a bad looking guy. He had this big, manly voice, like on a Marlboro commercial, and he talked western and slow, although he was a southern hillbilly boy.

He had an eye for a girl, I could tell. And he was putting away the drinks. There was a non-alcoholic punch there for everyone, but he was sweetening it with his own pocket flask. His hair was long, but not hippy, his clothing was rugged, but tailor made and expensive and he had a fine, manly bod.

These receptions are something else. They're for the birds. You stand around with this painted smile on your face, being nice to everyone. You stay on your toes all the time because the judges are looking at you. At least they are when the results of the contest are not predetermined. I knew that this contest was over before it started and I'd picked out the local belle who would win. She was a stringy-haired little blond with big shoulders and a. bigger ass. She was as out of proportion as a smashed beer can, but the judges were fawning all over her. While I was courting this.hilly singer, whose name was Rod Hensley, Pearl pulled me aside and told me that I was right, that the smart money was on the big-assed blond. I went back to Rod. Everyone kept calling him Junior. I smiled my best and asked him why.

"Wall," he drawled, giving me his lop-sided smile, "I changed muh name."

"From what?" I asked, pretending to be really interested. "I'm tryin' to ferget," he said.

"I'm good at keeping secrets," I told him, giving him a bit of hip as we stood side by side to let him know I could keep that secret, too. He was looking down the neck of my dress and I didn't have on a bra.

"Yew ever tell I'll put the black hex of the mountains on you," he said.

"Cross my heart." I crossed it, letting my finger brush a nipple so that it stood up and saluted him. His eyes I went to it right away and stayed there. I could almost feel them, because he was quite a man and I'd been exposed to things like His Honor and his lax cock, to,f old man Worth and his shoes and to Pearl's feminine, lovemaking with just little old fast-going inexperienced, Bill Murphy to do the raw and real man thing to me. I t was ready for some mature, manly cock and I had eyes for this Rod Hensley as much as he had for me. You know how it is when two people meet and have this thing for each other. I mean, you can feel the sparks fly. They were shooting out from me and Rod like spar- (klers. "Junior Albercrombie," he said. He laughed.

I laughed with him, not at him. "God, I know how you feel. I'm hung with the tag of Ruby Gore." "Ruby ain't bad."

"It's going to be Kitsy," I said. "When I'm ready to › blow the dust of this state off my ass. Kitsy McRae." "Has real class," he said.

"I got plans, Rod," I said. "And among them is winning this dinky little high country shit-fest of a beauty pageant." He frowned. "Wall."

"I know," I said. "They've got the little country girl with the big ass all dressed up for the part and they've indicated to you that you should look at her twice." "You been around, huh?" He grinned at me. "Not as much as I'm going to," I said. 100 "Youlnow how it is, then."

"What do you owe them?" I asked. I was looking into his eyes and giving him all my charge right through the eyeballs.

He killed his drink, eyes squinted. "Come to think of it, Ruby," he said, dropping his Walt Disney animal story narrator voice, "I don't owe these bastards a fucking thing."

I thought I knew the boy then. I took a long shot. "When you were going to school here were you elected class president?" He looked at me. "Nope."

"Who was?" He didn't answer. I looked over at the big assed little blond who was sucking around the women judges. "Was it her? I don't mean her, herself, but someone like her? Her big brother? The son or daughter of the banker or the newspaper editor or the town's rich man?"

He was pouring himself a shot into the non-alcoholic punch. "They shit on you all your life, didn't they, Junior?" I used his old name deliberately. "And now that you've made it all by yourself… look, how did you learn to play the guitar? I'll bet it was sitting all alone in a mountain cabin because they shit on you and you couldn't buy your butt into their little social circles with a pair of ragged-assed jeans and bare feet."

He grinned. "You're a smart gal, Ruby Gore. You sayin' let's us poor folks unite against them fancy folks?"

I didn't know if I was winning or not, but I went ahead. "I'm saying something else. I'm saying we're alike. I'm saying we're both trying to lift ourselves by our own bootstraps. I'm saying let's pull together. You give me a lift and I'll give you a lift." "I'd be one against four."

"They'd listen to you."

He grinned again. "So I can give you'a boost, honey, but what can you do for me?"

"Well, I damned sure can't get you a contract with the Grand Ole Opry," I said, smiling and standing so close he could stand there and look down and see my nipples. "But I can make you feel like a tiger, buddyHE can make you eat raw meat and go out there and fight the fucking world."

"I'll bet you could at that," he said, thinking about it. Then someone came up and I didn't get a chance, although I tried, to talk with him again.

"How'd it go?" Pearl asked, when we were back in my room.

"I don't know. If the phone rings in the next few minutes we're in." "Nothing definite?"

"He was interested," I said. "But he spent the last part of the evening with the locals. I saw the big-ass belle trying to vamp him."

"Ruby," she said. "I don't think the phone is going to ring. I think we've made a useless trip."

We sat around for thirty minutes and it seemed that she was right. I was getting mad. I told Pearl to go to bed. I went down to the,desk and asked if Mr. Hensley was in his room. I was carrying a manila envelope containing my pictures and press clippings. I told the clerk, who wasn't too swift, that it belonged to Mr. Hensley and that it was very important to get it to him that very night. He said he'd give it to him. I said no go, that I was going to put it in his room personally, since it was valuable original sheet music Mr. Hensley had written. The clerk fumed and fussed a little, but in the end he went up with me and unlocked the door to Rod's room. I went in and put the envelope on the dresser and came out, being careful to leave the door unlocked.

"Did you lock the door?" the clerk asked. I wiggled the doorknob and said I'd locked it, thanked the old fart and went off down the hall. He got in the elevator and went down and I went back to Rod's room, stripped to the buff and made myself comfortable on his bed. Now I just hoped that he'd come in half sober and alone. I thought it would be funny if he came back with some girl he'd picked up, maybe the big-assed little blond, and I was prepared for anything. I was not going to give up without a fight.

I was dozing when I heard the door. I woke up, fully alert. He was alone and he was sober. He was loosening his tie when he turned around after closing the door and turned on the light and all of me hit him right in the face.

"Jesus H. God," he said. I stretched, making my boobs stand out.

"I've waited for a long time," I said. He was frozen in his tracks, both his hands up on his tie. "We didn't get a chance to finish our conversation."

"Ruby Gore," he said, his eyes locked onto my boobs for a few seconds and then dropping to the quite openly displayed goodie between my legs, "I think it would be best for all concerned if you got your ass out of here."

I got up on my knees. I knew that the position accentuated my hips and made my tits stick up nicely. I held out my arms. "Come over here and say that." "Honey, you can't bribe your way through the world."

"That's funny. A congressman told me just a while ago that if the price is right you can buy anything in this world." "You're just a kid," he said.

"If you're worried about statutory rape I'm past the age of consent," I said.

"Why don't you be a good girl and'go on back to your own room?" he said, picking up my dress and throwing it at me.

"Because I've seen you looking at me," I said. "Because I can make it very, very good for you, Junior Rod Hensley Albercrombie." "You done much of this?" he asked.

"I'm not virgin^ If I were I'd be a lousy lay. I'm not used up, either. This fable about a woman being used up is shit. A woman improves with experience and if you don't know that it sure is time you learned."

"Honey," he said. "I'm going in to take a shower. When you hear me come out you'd better be gone."

I waited until I heard the water running. Then I went into the bath and there was just a curtain on the shower. I could see his shadow through it and he was right up under the shower head with the water running over his hair and face. I opened the curtain quietly and stepped in behind him. I let him wash the soap off his face and out of his eyes and then I stepped forward and put my arms around him and pressed my hot tits, my belly, my hard mound up against him.

"Jesus Christ," he gasped, trying to displace my arms. He was all slick with soap and the feeling of my skin sliding on his was delicious. He turned in my arms and pushed at me and I slid down, holding my arms around him, until I was kneeling with the water running over both of us and my arms around his knees and his cock against my cheek. I was holding on for dear life and was feeling the delicious trembles, because he had a nice cock, all tight and clean looking, even when it was not hard. I clung and turned my face and sucked it into my mouth and he was pushing on my head and saying, "Stop it, Ruby. Stop it."

He pushed me away and lifted me. He was a strong man. He tore down the curtain getting out. I was clinging and calling his name and running my hands over his body and reaching for his cock. He said, "Now I asked you to get out of here." "I ain't going," I said. "You're going." "No."

He sat on the John and pulled me down. I thought for a minute that he was going to pull me into his lap and start the festivities, but instead, before I knew what he was doing, he had me across his knees and, Jesus God, he was pounding on my ass with his palm saying, "Now you're going to get out of here."

I hadn't been spanked since I was a bubble-gummer. I was spread out over his knees, our bodies sliding because we were all soapy, and I felt his hand slap, whap, flam and felt the sharp blows and I yelped and cried and tried to escape, because he was hurting, leaving red marks on my fanny, but he wouldn't stop. Slap, whap, flam. And all of a sudden this tremendous heat started generating in my smarting ass and blew like a storm through my entire body and centered in my glory hole and I was moaning as I cried and squirming now in a different way.

It was my first experience with being spanked and it was the sexiest thing that had ever happened to me. I mean, I'd known before that a little pain is nice sometimes. Later, I ran into a real nut in Rome, Italy, who wanted the pain to be severe and that's for the shits, I mean, really being hurt, but titty biting and pinching and love marks, that's all a part of the game and can be nice.

And under the proper circumstances a good spanking can add spice to life. I was being spanked good and his hands were stinging and leaving these red marks on my white fanny and I was moaning and squirming and my mound was against his thigh and the first thing I knew I was coming like a fire, blazing, my cunt throbbing and pulsing and pounding and me moaning in a different way and he stopped and said, "Holy smoke." "Rod," I whispered. "Oh, God, Rod." "You came," he said.

"Ummmm," I said. His hands were not spanking anymore. Instead, they were rubbing. They were feeling my smarting, tingling ass.

"Did \ hurt you?" His voice was soft, hoarse. His hands were fondling my ass. He let one finger track down into the sweet little grove at the top of my crack and it was hot in there and he breathed a jerky little breath and I felt his cock getting hard as steel against my side.

Hot? I hadn't known the meaning of the word till then. I mean, I was hot. I was steaming. I was crying inside for cock. I pushed myself off and knelt beside the John on which he was sitting and I put out my hands and felt of his hard cock.

"God, it's beautiful," I whispered, and it was. It was the most beautifully proportioned cock I'd ever seen. "I love it, Rod. It's so beautiful." And I wanted it. Oh, how I wanted it. I wanted it with every fiber of my body, all my soul. I couldn't wait. I straddled him, stood over him. I eyed that cock down there between my legs and reached down and held it and guided it up as I lowered myself, facing him, seated astride his legs.

I guided it to me. I was hot and loose. I'd come. I was slick and hot and juicy and wonderful. I guided it into me and drove if into me with my own weight and he was holding me with his hands around my back and his mouth went down and he gasped and sucked and chewed a tit and I whispered, as I buried his cock up to the hairy hilt in hot female cunt, "This one is for you, honey."

He had his arms low, at the base of my spine, and he was' squeezing me. His face was buried in my titties, kissing and chewing one after the other. He began to hunch up and drive his nice cock into me and I lifted and fell, sucked with my vaginal muscles, twisted, making it as good for him as I could.

I've often tried to describe the wonderful feeling of being fucked, but I suppose that only a woman can ever really know the true feeling. It's much more than just having something stuck into your cunt. It's a state of being. I mean, you've a different entity when you're filled, lovingly, with cock. You're more than a woman. You're something else. A man just extends a part of himself and puts it into a hole and I've heard men say that an animal's cunt, like the cunt of a cow, is just as good as a woman's cunt. They say that.a cow's cunt is even hotter and slicker. Well, with a woman there are substitutes, but nothing to match a good, well shaped, big cock. It comes into her and becomes a part of her. I wouldn't be a man for anything in the world. I mean, I'm a girl and I love it. I like being used. Possessed.

Think of any word that has ever been laid on the act of fucking and it has meaning. My guess is that the word, fuck, was first invented as the grunt of a very hot cave man getting his rocks off. I've heard men grunt as they came, Unkkk, ufffg, all manners of sounds. I like the word. Fuck. It has a pretty sound to me. And I like all the other words describing the act. I've done some research on it. Some people think it came from the Greek jutueva, which means to sow or plant seeds. Well, a man plants seeds when he fucks. Others say it came from the Latin futuere, meaning to strike. Well, a man strikes the body of a woman with his, making the main point of impact the meaty, protruding mounds under which, in the case of the woman, rests the little jewel which contains all of it, the clit. The Latin word, pun-gere, means to prick and a man pricks the body of his partner, driving his cock into her like a thorn going into flesh. Ficken, in German, means to strike, same thing.

I like the common odd words, too. Screw. When your body is wild and your hips are switching and swishing as you're being ficky-ficked, you're screwing your hips all around in circles. When you're familiar with a man, and have lived with him for a while, and the fucking comes peacefully and often, you're copulating.

I don't dislike the coarse things men say about it. Getting a piece. A piece of ass. That's quite literal. A piece of tail. A piece of meat. There's this, nothing is more meaty than the business end of a woman. She's all ass and a man can bury his fingers into the softness of that ass and drive one finger up her anus and feel nothing but meat all around and drive his cock up and feel nothing but the best prime meat and, well, shit, I like fucking and all about it and the words used about it.

And on that John in that hotel in that little mountain town, Rod Hensley and I fucked. He got a piece of ass. I rode him. His cock pierced me, took me, was stiff and proud and demanding up inside me, knowing all the folds and crevices of my cunt. His arms squeezed me and his mouth ate my tits and, when he came with a great roar and a wild grunt and frantic movements of his loins, pumping his glorious come deep into me, he kissed me.

I had a nice one with his cock pumping into me. I moaned and chewed on his lips and clurig and moved my ass and milked the last sweet drop of semen from his cock and then we got up and, laughing, feeling happy and smug, went back into the shower. He washed me lovingly, paying attention to my tits and my twat. His hand down there roused the napping beast in me and I washed him, feeling his nice body. I washed his cock. It had gone almost soft, but my hands on it brought it back to half life.

"I started to do this a while back," I said, dropping to my knees and taking his member into my mouth.

He held my head, my hair wet, with his hands, and I licked and laved and sucked. He pulled me up and thrust his great cock into my belly and said, "I want to be on top of you."

While he dried me, he kissed me on the back and the shoulders. He couldn't ever get enough of my tits, and he spent a long time drying and kissing them and then he dried my muff and I dried him, and licked his balls and sucked his cock and then he made this growling sound and lifted me and tossed me onto the bed.

One of the sexiest pictures I have of me is a color enlargement from a movie I made. In it, I'm on a satin sheet, naked, my tits standing nicely, my eyes closed. I have one arm lying loosely at my side and the other goes down between my outflung legs to seize a hard cock and guide it, with just the head of it already in me. I have on a jeweled bracelet on my right arm, the one I'm guiding the cock with. My stomach is indrawn, with the expectation of being fucked, my mouth open in a sensuous gasp.

That's the way I must have looked with Rod. He tossed me onto the bed and I fell onto my back, my legs opening automatically. He got between them, on his knees. He looked down at my cunt. He felt it I felt his loving fingers explore my twat and I was creaming almost immediately, even if I had just been washed good in the shower. Then he moved closer, still on his knees. I looked down the length of my body, seeing my breasts, my mound, my pubic hair, his beautiful cock.

I cpuldn't stand 'it. I reached down and took it and tugged and guided and when it hit my cunt, I closed my eyes in ecstasy and fed the whole length of it into me. He drove it in, still on his knees. He was a big man and his cock was nice and big and I felt that wonderful feeling of completion and I just lay there and let him play with me a little. He drove it up and held it and then he started pinching my tits and I began to writhe and moan and he pulled my legs together. This way, both my legs were between his. He was kneeling astride me. His cock was hilt deep in me. He squeezed my hips between his knees and began to rock back and forth. In that position he couldn't go all the way in and out, but the movement was great. He was pushed up way high and his cock was pressing my clit very hard and I was out of it. "Good?" he asked.

"Beautiful," I whispered, giving him a twist and a grind, making my cunt suck and chew and squeeze on bis cock.

Rod was my first really sensuous man. He liked everything about sex. I thought he would go ahead and screw me, since he was in me, but he pulled out and eyed my body and felt it and then he started kissing my belly and I put my hands down and held his head. He was going to eat me. I knew that. And I yearned for the feel of his lips on my cunt. He took a tantalizingly long time doing it, and when he finally took my cunt in a quick movement, driving his mouth down into it, sticking his tongue into the hole and smearing his lips all over it, his oddly soft top lip on my clit, I cried out in delight and began to fuck his mouth and came almost like lightning. Then he crawled on and worked slow and long. I threw my legs up over his back and pulled him deeper, rolled up on niy shoulders. He drove it in so hard that I was rocking up and down on the bed and I came in that position, with my body bent up into a ball, his cock driving deep, his balls bouncing on my pudenda and ass cheeks. I came and cried with the joy of it, real tears. "God, don't stop," I whispered. "Don't ever stop."

He rolled over and held me on top, pulled one of my legs up alongside his chest. His finger went down and started playing with my anus, which was soaked with our juices. He was fucking very hard, getting hot. He put his head under and bit the hell out of my tit and I moaned with it. Then I was coming again and just before I went he drove his finger into my anus and I screamed, because the entry of it was like being fucked again, in a different place, and I went wild and came and he said, "I feel your cunt throbbing on my finger." He could feel it throbbing on his cock, too, and on his finger, and I was trying to bite both of them off with my spasms of goodness and then I lay still for a minute. "Can you go again?" he asked. "I don't know, but it feels so good." "I want you on your stomach," he said. I rolled over. He crawled on me from the rear and drove his cock down between my ass cheeks and found my well used cunt. "He went in about a mile. That position, from the rear, allows a man to go deep. And he gets the sensation oЈHbeing even deeper, because the base of his cock, which never really gets into a cunt, is held between the meaty flesh of the lower ass. You take a guy with a seven-inch dick. About three inches of it goes in in an ordinary position. In some of the better ones, like with the girls legs pulled up against her chest, you can get about four or five inches of the seven actually into the cunt. But in that one, with the girl flat on her stomach, her legs tight together, the man gets this sensation, since his whole cock is either in the cunt or held between those lower cheeks, that he's all in and they love it. A girl has to get a kick out of penetration or play with her clit or have the man play with it. But I was feeling so smooth and smug and done in and all that I was loving it just feeling Rod drive in and out of my cunt from the rear.

He was kneeling, holding my ass tight between his knees. And then he put his hands down and caught me right above the thigh joints in that soft place with both hands and lifted my ass up and that made it drive in even deeper. He began to really throw it to me. I began to buck and suck with my cunt muscles to make it good for him and, goddamn, I began to get hot and when he came in me, I came out of sympathy, without even having my clit stimulated, a real, banging good, throbbing chewing pussy come with his cock emptying itself deep into me, so deep that my whole womb was washing in cunt and come.

He rolled me over and quickly drove it into me, after he'd quit pumping, and we just lay there, his cock going lax in me, both of us drowsy and being loving and dose.

He woke me in the middle of the night eating me, I had a beauty like that and then we just fucked gently and without too much fire for about a half hour before we both got wild and had a climax together and then he did me in again in the morning, after we'd had coffee and cakes in bed. The morning one was just a quickie. We were both hot and he just crawled on and we pounded and jerked and moaned and he came first and I came just as his best shot of come jetted into me.

"Ruby," he said, "would you like to see me again, even when I'm not a beauty contest judge?"

"If you weren't already married," I said, "I'd carry you ofL Anytime you want to see me, Rod. Anytime."

As I went through the next few years, marriage was offered to me, but Rod Hensley, a couhtry western singer, was the only man I would have married, and that was because he was such a tender lover, because he was nice dear through and because we sent each other. We continued to send each other for years.

So, you see, Rod Hensley isn't really his name, and you'd surely recognize it if I told you, because he did make it big. But once I screwed him in his dressing room backstage just before he went on for a big concert. We fucked quickly, both of us hot, me leaning back on his dressing table, my long, formal skirt hiked to expose my cunt, he without removing his trousers. When he'd come and I'd come he pulled out and grinned at me. "I ain't gonna wash," he said. "I'm goin' out there with our love juices still on it and maybe the people will smell it and think that Rod Hensley is a sexy sonofa-bitch."

"And I'll keep yours in me," I said. "All through the program I'll be sitting there with your come in me." That's the kind of friends Rod and I were. We could 113 get a kick out of a five minute quickie standing up or we could give each other the delicious trembles for a whole week. We had a week together once, after he'd left his first wife, in the mountains of Colorado, and it was wild, great, beautiful. We thought ab@ut getting married then, but I was in the middle of my first big movie and he was on a contract to do a nationwide tour and we decided we wouldn't spoil a beautiful love affair with marriage.

But that morning we lay there soaking in each other, my tits hot on his chest, his weight on me, his cock going soft until it finally fell out of me and his come ran down the inside of my thigh. "Ruby," he said, "I guess you've bribed me."

"I meant it to be that way," I said "but now that I know you I don't give a shit about this pissy little contest. You vote the way you want to. I'll make it without being Miss Mountain Flower."

"Ah'm glad yew said that, gal," he said, giving me the western accent shit. "Because all along I was going to vote for the best girl." Which, of course, was me.