Issue 8: ruby reveals all
Born in the Colombian mountains, I arrived on British soil when I was barely a year old. My father, a Colombian smuggler, was in hiding, so we settled in suburban heaven on the south coast. My parents being good Catholics, I was sent to convent school. But I didn't need boys around to fuel my imagination. I read books about sex from the first available opportunity, and delighted in sharing my knowledge. After several dubious incidents, I was finally expelled when overheard at the age of twelve advising a friend on masturbation. My parents were naturally displeased with this turn of events. They would see other children being cautioned, 'Stay away from that Ruby. She's not allowed to come round for tea.' They decided the best solution was to send me to boarding school, where I could avoid the provincial gossip.
My school, Cranmore Heights, was in the middle of nowhere, small and old. Having learnt from my convent school experience, I was more careful in choosing my confidants. Finding students of my own age less than inspiring, I began to mix with older boys and girls. I soon began indulging in sexual activities, learning technique quickly and eagerly, and indulging in widely varied experimentation.
Despite making something of a hobby of the art of sex, I still enjoyed it as a purely pleasurable experience, and shortly after my fourteenth birthday I embarked upon a stimulating and passionate affair with my art teacher, Elliot Thorpe. Elliot was 27, just what I neede to broaden my horizons, and our relationship lasted over a year. Unfortunately, his wife found one of his drawings of me wearing only my school tie, and that was the end of that. At the end of the year I returned home facing an uncertain future. Threats of being sent back to Columbia to live with Uncle Angelo were being made daily. However, my surprisingly good GCSEs encouraged parental forgiveness and a place at the local sixth form. However, an incident in the dark room with the principal's son ensured I was on the next plane to Columbia.
Patting his Brylcreemed hair and sucking hard on his cigar, Uncle Angelo clapped me on the back and chortled 'So Ruby, you've been having some fun, huh?'. Also a smuggler, and I soon found that Uncle Angelo's life suited me very well. As long as I worked hard at school, Uncle Angelo placed no restrictions on my behaviour. The warm weather also agreed with me, and I found many lovers, especially among Uncle Angelo's ready supply of young wannabe smugglers keen to impress him. My education continued as I learnt how South Americans fuck and enjoyed a life of sex and sun. When I passed my exams and received my place at Oxford, I had already resolved spend some time seeing more of the world and in further pursuit of my hobby.
When the prospect of returning to England was on the verge of becoming a reality, I joined a passing Peruvian circus as a fortune teller, and travelled with them around South America for several months. My interest in sex was easy to satiate, both due to the exotic nature of my job and the liberality of the circus troop. Fucking trapeze artists and lion tamers increased my versatility and stretched my flexibility. As we journeyed up through Mexico, I met some American backpackers who invited me to join them in their hippie commune. Having never been to America, I agreed and headed north with Brad and Jane.
On my arrival at the commune, I was dubious. In the middle of the Californian desert, it consisted of a mix of sturdy tents and shallow caves situated around a small spring. I was relieved to discover it's inhabitants appeared to harbour no religious or philosophical obsessions. When I discovered that their's was a commune dedicated to the progress of sexual enlightenment, I was sure I'd made the right choice. During my months in California I specialised in the potential intensity of sexual pleasure. There was no shortage of volunteers. I found life at the commune more relaxing than ever, and was loath to leave when the time came for me to begin my degree.
When I returned to rainy England, I found to my displeasure that the weather was not the only thing to decrease in quality. Forced once again into the company of my chronological contemporaries, I resented their fumblings and commitment obsessions as I do the cold. I resolved to attempt a kind of mass education which even I could not possibly manage by direct physical contact, to raise the standard and frequency of sex in Oxford, and thus my column was born...
Tricia: The book's out later this year...
23rd Nov 2000