❝𝗝𝗲𝗻𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗮 𝗦𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝗕𝗼𝗼𝗸❞

It Pays To Advertise

Requested by jennierubycjane

Lisa's Pov

I sat up in bed reading the local paper. It's one of those "respectable" newspapers, which means it's bloody difficult to read because the size of the pages is massive, you need a machine to fold it properly. Anyway, despite the fact that it prides itself on being a "respectable" newspaper of record, it still allows the ladies of the night to advertise in its "adult" section.

I always flick through the adult section, not because I'm an attender of brothels, bordellos, call them what you will, but you never know what you're missing.

But just reading some of the ads helped my cock start to slither and slide to attention. Now I'm only 30, and I'm bloody well built. I've six-pack abs, or whatever it is they call them, you know what I mean, I've got biceps that a former girl friend used to love licking vanilla ice cream from. Strange tastes, some women. I'd have preferred it if she'd licked it from my cock, but hey, it's a free world, everyone to their own. And I shouldn't have minded, because she spent a fair amount of time "down there", if you get my dirty drift.

Since I work out a lot, I shave down there - my shaft is smooth as the proverbial baby's bum, and I've got nothing on my scrotal sac - why doesn't that word employ a "k"? But, I digress. Sorry, but I often do.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes, hair. I keep the hair across my pubic bone trimmed into a crew cut, because I reckon that if I shaved that off, then the boys at the gym would label me as a three pound note. Well, there's something queer about a three pound note, eh?

I also remove the hair from around my nipples, like a lot of those body builders - and to be quite honest, I've got my doubts about some of those blokes, haven't you? Oh, sorry, there I go, digressing again. And there's no hair on my shoulders, or on my back, not even in the small of the back where a lot of fuzzy hair grows if you don't attack it. There's a lovely lady at the gym who keeps me nicely depilated, as it were - not on my cock and balls, I hasten to add, that's a job for your's truly.

Now I don't carry out this fetish on my head - and yeah, I admit it's a fetish, OK? I've got long hair that my hairdresser - a honey, by the way - says is the blackest, most beautiful she's ever cut. I wear it quite long, but not that long, don't want to be mistaken for one of those three pound notes, eh?

So that's me, Lalisa Manoban, 30, single, body to die for - if you're a woman, right? - and a job as a computer expert. Don't laugh. Not everyone who's into computers is a fucking geek, gottit?

I'm employed by a large hospital in the city to train their never-ending turnover of staff on how to use computers. Doctors, interns, sisters, nurses don't take notes any more, by the way, it's all done on computer. That's where I come in - I lecture on the computer system, teach 'em how to get around the corners quicker, and sometimes I get hit on by the little lovelies who work there, mostly nurses. And very nice, too. Sorry, I'm digressing again.

So it was a lovely midsummer's Saturday morning and I was in bed, orange juice and pot of coffee on the bedside table, the flat had been flossied up by my charwoman - is it because they're always drinking tea? - so I'd nothing much to do. Just a relaxing week-end - but that's not how it turned out!

Anyway, as usual I turned to the naughty ads. They were mainly the oldies - for instance "Bubbles, fuller figure for the man who likes a handful". Poor old Bubbles. I guess what she really means is "fucking fat"! Still, everyone to their own, as I said earlier.

But among all the "stunning tranny" and "legs to die for blonde" ads was one that I'd not seen before and which immediately got the pussy pleaser standing up stiff and trying to burst through the satin sheets.