An Advert I Cannot Resist

Amateur glamour model

"Good morning, my little ray of sunshine," Tullio, the chubby Italian restaurant owner says as he enters the newsagent shop where I work.

"How are you this morning?"

"Fine, thank you," I reply, smiling, as I fold his newspaper and take a packet of his usual cigarettes from the shelf. I always look forward to Tullio's daily visits.

He is a happy man, in his mid-forties, with long, black wavy hair, and a big moustache. He always takes the time to flatter me, which Is always appreciated.

As he hands over a £10 note, he takes a card from his jacket pocket.

"How much will it cost to place an advertisement in your window?" he asks as he passes it over the counter.

Local Camera Club

MODELS WANTED

Glamour & Portraiture

Over the age of 18 only.

Generous hourly rate.

"It's fifty pence per week," I reply.

Tullio smiles. "I'll go for the whole month then." He replies in perfect English, but with a sexy Italian accent.

"I didn't know that you were a photographer," I say to him as I take his change from the till.

"I am sure that there are many things that we don't know about each other, he laughs. Yes, I love to take pictures of beautiful things, the sunrise, a bright red Ferrari, a beautiful girl--it is all the same to me. My friend and I have a small studio above one of my shops, where we have a darkroom and some of our friends can take pictures in private."

As there are no other customers we continue our conversation.

"What sort of photos need to be taken in private?" I ask giving him a cheeky smile.

Tullio raises his eyebrows and grins. "Wouldn't you like to know, a woman like yourself would always be welcome."

I am laughing as a young boy enters the shop.

At this point, Tullio starts to leave, but when he reaches the door he turns and pauses.

"We will talk about this tomorrow." He smiles and leaves the shop.

I spend the rest of the day fantasizing about being a model or a girl in one of the "top shelf" magazines. It's fun, but even though I have always been considered "pretty," I feel that I am too tall (5 ft. 9 in.) and my boobs (34DD) are too big. My fantasy, however, is fun while it lasts.

The following day Tullio comes into the shop at his usual time.

"Good morning, my ray of sunshine; can I say that you look even more beautiful today?"

I have his paper and cigarettes prepared and hand them over.

He passes me a £5 note, smiles, and says, "I have told my friend that you are interested in modelling for us, and I have arranged for him to meet you in my restaurant. We will meet you at 1.30, so don't be late."

My head is in a spin; he can't possibly be serious, can he?

At 1.30, I am outside the restaurant, debating whether to go in or not, my heart is beating like a drum and I have butterflies in my stomach.

"Helen, you are on time. I appreciate that in a person."

Tullio greets me with two kisses, then holds the door open for me, guides me past a couple of customers, and then to a secluded table at the back of the restaurant where a younger man is sitting.

Tullio makes the introductions, "This is Ian, he owns the camera shop next door, and this is the beautiful Helen."

I blush as we shake hands.

As we sit down, an extremely gorgeous waiter appears, and speaking Italian, Tullio orders some pasta and a bottle of wine for the three of us.

Ian turns to me. "Tullio, tells me that you would like to pose for our club."

"This is all happening too quickly. I didn't say that I would."

"You didn't say that you wouldn't!" Tullio responded.

"Why do you want me? Surely there are plenty of younger girls who would love to model for you," I ask them as the food arrives.

Ian looks at Tullio, who nods.

"Yes, we do get quite a few girls from the college who like the money and enjoy showing off, but some of our members would like to photograph a more... voluptuous, older woman. Not that you fall into the category of 'older.'"

I should hope not! I am only twenty-six years old, married for the second time, and have a daughter who is six years old.

"If I am interested, what will I have to do--nothing rude, I hope?"

They look at each other and smile, they know that I am interested, but how will they get me to commit?

When we finish eating, Tullio suggests visiting the studio.

We go outside, and Ian unlocks the door next to the restaurant. He leads the way up the stairs.

Tullio follows, muttering something in Italian,

"What did you just say?" I ask,

"I am sorry, I was just telling myself that you have a fantastic arse!"

I am wearing my favourite jeans, which are very tight and emphasize my shape.

The wine is having an effect. I giggle.

Upstairs there is an office, a studio which appears quite large, and a couple of other rooms which are locked leading off.

The studio has a small stage and is surrounded by some very professional-looking lights, tripods, and an assortment of chairs.

There are also two large cupboards that, when I open them, are full of theatrical props, hats, and some women's clothing.

I turn towards Tullio, "My God, I thought that you said this was just for a few of your friends."

"It is, but if a job is worth doing, it's worth doing properly," he chuckles, "the members who use this all shop with Ian, so the expense is worth it."

As I walk around I find there are also three small bedrooms with showers and toilets, there is even a pool table.

"What are these for?" I ask,

"Sometimes my new waiters have nowhere to stay, and sometimes I like a bit of privacy." They laugh at the in-joke.

"So, what do you think?" Ian asks me,

"You haven't told me what sort of pictures you want me to pose for," I reply.

"Well, there is a meeting on Friday, you can do some portraits and, if you want, some glamour shots with your jeans and top on."

He looks at Tullio, who smiles. "You're not required to do topless... unless you want to."

The butterflies are back in my stomach. "Okay!" I stutter.

Friday will be good for me, as my daughter will be with her father for the weekend.

And my husband, Dave, will be working, setting up a stand for an exhibition somewhere, and will not be home until Tuesday, as usual.

I arrive at the restaurant at the agreed time, wearing my western boots, tight jeans, and a Lycra t-shirt, with a sports bag full of t-shirts, blouses, and bras.

Tullio meets me and greets me with a kiss on the lips. We go upstairs, where there are six guys and Ian standing around, drinking coffee, chatting, and fiddling with their cameras.

As I am being introduced, I hear two guys talking about my breasts.

"Fucking Hell! Have you seen the size of them? I hope she gets them out."The shorter one says

His friend replies. "Tullio hasn't let us down yet!"

They both laugh.

As Tullio returns downstairs, Ian takes me to a small changing room, which has a table, chair, and large mirror.

"This should give you some privacy when you want to change outfits."

He tells me this as he produces a bottle of wine and a glass.

"What should I wear?" I ask him,

"You look fine, so why not start like that? Just come out when you're ready," he replies

I gulp two mouthfuls of wine and make my way onto the stage. Ian places a gold-coloured chair next to me and announces, "As you know, this is Helen's first time, and she's nervous, so whatever poses you want, ask me instead of shouting at her."

Over the next half-hour, I go through several poses, straddling the chair and bending over it. It is easier than I expect, and I quickly relax, even suggesting some poses myself.

Ian hands me my glass and asks if I would mind changing my top. I nod in agreement as I again gulp at the wine.

In the changing room, I have just taken off my t-shirt when I hear the clicking of a camera. Startled, I turn around, I had not closed the door completely and I see two of the men taking shots of me in my bra.

"OOPS! "Sorry, we should have asked, but we couldn't resist a couple of "voyeur" shots."

The others are watching, smiling. I smile back.

"It's okay, but you should have asked."

I wear a white silk shirt for the next session. A larger "throne" type chair has replaced the original.

The poses are similar until someone asks me to unbutton my shirt. I look at Ian, who grins and shrugs his shoulders.

I slowly comply, leaving one fastened at my bust. I can tell from their faces that this is what they want, my cleavage looks huge, and I feel my nipples poking through the lace of my bra.

The poses all consist of me bending over, which I find quite stimulating. On impulse, I opened the last button, giving them a better view.

As I leave the stage to change, Ian again approaches me, "How do you feel about going topless? The guys would appreciate it."

I smile and raise my eyebrows.

He gives a "thumbs up" to his friends.

In the changing room, I remove my shirt and bra and look at myself in the mirror, my breasts are swollen; it is now or never; I tease my brown nipples. I take another long gulp of wine and the bottle is empty, now.

I slip on a chiffon blouse, which is see-through, again, only fastening one button, and leave my bra on the table.

When I take my place on the stage, the guys are nudging each other and looking very excited.

I move around, bending over and squatting. My tits never actually come into view.

With my back to them, I undo the button and take off my top. I am shaking with excitement, but the wine has made me very relaxed, and I am now losing all of my inhibitions.

I turn around, with my arms in the air, and the camera clicks sound like machine-gun fire!

I pose for about twenty minutes, getting more excited by the second.

"Drop your jeans and show us your knickers!" someone shouts.

Immediately, I undo the top button and pull the zip down, exposing my red G-string.

I can't stop grinning as I turn around and slide the jeans down over my bum, flashing my cheeks, then pulling them up just as quickly. As I flee the stage feeling extremely naughty and my breasts wobbling.

Ian joins me in my room. "Thanks for a great night; the guys want to know if you'll come back next week."

I don't need to ask twice. I nod my head frantically.

When I have dressed, only Ian is left.

"Tullio would like you to join us for supper," he says as we walk downstairs.

The restaurant is busy, but we are led to the same secluded table, where I sit between the two men.

Tullio calls the same waiter as before and orders food and wine for us.

"Tell me, did you enjoy yourself?" He asks as he puts his arm around my shoulder, he feels warm and is wearing very expensive cologne.

"Yes, it was wonderful, so exciting. Ian has asked me back next week."

"I'm sure he has, but you didn't show anything that you didn't want to, did you?" Tullio looks at Ian for confirmation.

With a big smile, Ian replies. "Well, you won the bet, we did see her tits and with a flash of arse too!"

Both men laugh out loud.

The young waiter arrives with our wine,

"Good health!" Tullio toasts me.

"What bet was that?" I ask.

Tullio tightens his grip on me and kisses my brow. "We always have a small wager on how long it takes a new model to go topless, and my dear, I am looking forward to seeing the evidence."

His big hand squeeze's my breast.

When we finish our meal, Tullio calls the young waiter over to our table and hands him his car keys, muttering something in Italian. The boy smiles and nods.

"His name is Sandro, and I've told him, no Hanky-Panky we are busy, so he must come straight back."

As I squeeze past Tullio he grabs my arse, he laughs as I drunkenly sit on his knee, wriggling on his groin.

As his English is very poor, the conversation is kept to a minimum as Sandro drives me home in the large Mercedes.

When we arrive at my home I am now feeling very, very horny, and I invite him in "for a coffee," which he politely refuses and drives off.

I feel in desperate need of release as soon as possible, but with no one here to satisfy that need I get into bed, frustrated, and my pussy is on fire, I have to take out my dildo and fuck myself to sleep.

The next three Fridays follow the same pattern, with more men turning up each week, as they are now, guaranteed to see my enormous breasts.

I use my wages to buy new underwear and stockings, which I wear in the scenarios that they create for me.

The skimpier the underwear or costume, the more photos they will take.

Their favourite positions are me leaning forward over a chair, drooping my breasts, licking my breasts, or with my legs open, trying to get a flash of my pussy. I, too, wear some of the outfits from the wardrobes: "wench," "policewoman" (with truncheon! ), and everybody's favourite, "naughty schoolgirl"!

Tullio starts to attend with his camcorder, getting up very close to my tits and between my legs. I don't like to ask what he does with the tape, but it is fun thinking about it!

When we finish, Ian and I join Tullio for supper, as I have no one at home waiting for me we look at the pictures from the previous week. Seeing the pictures of myself showing my body, especially my tits, to a bunch of strangers is becoming more of a turn-on each week.

Each week, Sandro takes me home and always refuses my offer of "coffee," so my trusty dildo is used to great effect.

My husband, Dave, is also feeling the benefit, as I jump on him the moment he returns from working away. He thinks that I have been missing him! Bless!

Although I still refuse to take my pants off, I know that it will only be a matter of time before I give in.

As we are having supper on the fourth Friday, Tullio says, "I am sorry, but we won't be needing you next Friday, my heart sinks. we have decided to use some of the girls from the college for a few weeks."

Then he looks at Ian, who takes up the conversation.

"Now that you are enjoying yourself, Tullio and I would like to ask a favour of you!

If you would be willing, we would like to use you for some private pictures, without the others. Of course, it would mean more money, but the pictures would be beautiful private pictures but the pictures would be," Again, he looks at Tullio, Fully naked, and... well, personal, "top shelf," you understand?"

He whispers the last few words. "Because I am drunk and still horny from my last session, I ask, How personal?"

The butterflies have returned to my stomach, and I feel my nipples expanding as the words come out.

"How personnel would you let us go?" Tullio asks.

I look up and grin. They strike while the iron is hot, and the following lunchtime, I meet both men outside of the camera shop with my bag of goodies in my hand.

"Are you sure about this?" Ian asks.

"Of course she is; look at her titties," Tullio tells him, as he stares at my nipples, which are poking out of my shirt, again.

I blush; he is right.

I am up for anything this afternoon.

The studio is empty as Tullio opens a bottle of wine and Ian turns on the lights.

I look at them. "I'll get ready, then, what do you want me to wear?"

For the first time, I feel in charge of the situation.

"Anything black would be nice," Ian replies.

I go into the changing room and take out an array of underwear and my collection of dildos from a small bag.

Guessing what they want, I undress, only leaving my knickers on. When I enter the studio, they whistle their approval.

As I walk towards them, my tits swing from side to side.

"Is this what you want?" I ask.

Tullio, smiles, "Let's use one of the bedrooms," he says, and he guides me to one of the small rooms.

Ian quickly sets up a camera and lights.

I begin by rolling around on the bed, posing in any number of provocative positions. Then, as I am on all fours, facing away from them, I remove my knickers, showing my neatly trimmed pussy for the first time.

"My God! That is beautiful, can I touch it?" Tullio asks.

I shake my head. "No!" I tell him.

Rolling onto my back, I pull my legs up to my shoulders, my mouth gaping open for them. Tullio is so close that he nearly puts his camcorder inside.

When Ian's film runs out, I decide to put on one of my new outfits, a black blouse, tiny knickers, seamed stockings, and high heels.

After applying an extra coat of lipstick, I make my entrance.

"Wow!" Tullio gasps.

"Where would like me, on the stage?"

I place my small bag at the front and start parading around the large gold chair.

Ian has three cameras set up, and Tullio is using his camcorder.

I bend over in several seductive ways, pulling my top down and letting my tits swing free. Holding onto the chair, with my arse facing them, I stroke my pussy; it is as wet as I hope. Moving my fingers across, I pull the tiny strip to one side, exposing my fanny again.

Tullio is kneeling beside me, getting a close-up shot.

He moves away, allowing me the room to sit down and remove my knickers.

I open my legs as far as possible, letting them feast their eyes on my huge tits and soaking wet cunt.

I begin rubbing myself, slipping at first one then three fingers into the sopping hole. Biting my lip I whisper, "Open the bag,"

Ian does as I'd ask.

"Fucking hell, have you seen this lot?" He shouts as he pours the contents onto the floor.

"Give me the black one!" I whisper huskily.

Opening my hole with my fingers, I move the tip along the slit two or three times then slowly slide it inside.

I don't use this one very often because at thirteen inches long I have to be very wet to accept it. It slides in very easily.

With one leg over the chair arm, I fuck myself with my "black monster," purring and groaning with pleasure. I hope they are still taking pictures.

I needn't worry; Tullio is back between my legs, with his camera.

I rub my clitoral area and give a breathtaking climax after a few minutes of this exquisite fucking.

I pull the dildo out and drop it onto the floor, landing with a thump.

"Is that personal enough for you?" I ask as I stand up and walk back to my dressing room.

"Too fucking true!" Tullio says as he inserts a new film into his camcorder while adjusting his headset.

Ian speaks up. "Let's use the pool table next."

I change into my white Wonderbra, stockings, suspenders and no knickers.

When I walk out, they have moved some lights around the table and set the balls up as if we were going to start a game.

"I'll help you," Tullio says as I try to climb up onto the table, he places one hand on my hip and the other inside my thigh.

I cock my left leg up onto the edge, allowing him to slide his hand between my legs and touch my throbbing pussy he tries to get a finger inside; I scramble away.

"Cheeky bugger! You can stop that; that's for later."

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself.

They look at each other and then at me.

"I'll keep my hands to myself... until later. "Tullio emphasises the last words.

I playfully stick my tongue out at him.

Ian positions me in the corner of the table as if my hole were the pocket that the balls are going into. As he unclips my bra he slyly feels my tits.

I do some poses kneeling, pretending to "suck" the cue, and then I rub the "fat" end against my pussy, spreading my legs, eventually sliding it inside.

This is too much for Tullio, who has already stripped off and climbed up to join me.

I lay on my back, sliding the cue in and out, as he proudly shows me his cock.

It is about six inches long and quite thick he places it in my mouth, it tasted salty which is wonderful.

Lying on my side, I start to suck him like crazy, while continuing to fuck myself with the cue. After a couple of minutes of my blow-job and him fondling my enormous tits, his body tenses up, and hot cum flows into my mouth and down my throat.