Page 158 - Titanic: Forbidden Stories Hollywood Forgot

144 Jack Fritscher

and better than Deep Throat and Behind the Green Door.”
“That’s a tall order,” I said. “First of all, the competi-
tion will eat you up no matter how gor geous you are or
how sexually talent ed. Second of all, the camera’s got
to love you, and you’ve got to make love to the camera.
Third, you got to have a gimmick.”
She looked at me like I was some kind of shmuck.
“I’m the gimmick,” she said. She handed me her portfolio.
Threw it on my desk. “There,” she said. “Open that up and
look and see how the camera and I get along! There must
be ten pictures there any guy with balls could get off on!”
A handful of glossy pix slipped out of her portfolio
onto my cluttered desktop. Some of them were expertly
shot. Others looked muddy. Like they had been shot by
a friend with a dark room. No matter. Throughout the
whole range of camera-work a certain something about
Stella Maris rang true. She had created herself her way.
“Who shot these?” I asked.
“Several men.”
“What kind of men?”
“Men I know,” she said. She rubbed her index finger
lightly around her wet lips. She looked directly at me.
Her other hand toyed with a gold amulet hanging on
a golden chain around her neck. She wore the sign of
Pisces dangling seductively in the clea vage between her
incredible tits. Fuck! Guys could fall for this fish —hook,
line, and sinker! “They were all shot by men I know. By
men who hired me. For pictures. I mean I didn’t have sex
with them. Well, not with all of them. Just the ones who
figured out how to turn me, you know, a little bit crazy. I
just want you to know that I have a special talent. And
I needed the pictures, just like I need you to write up a

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