Some people get into journalism to meet world-famous people. Politicians, war heroes, Big Brother winners, that sorta thing. The most famous people I met in my writing career at porn rag The Picture were Mr T, who is a black man, and Jesse Jane, who has had many black men inside her.
Mr T was a prick and wouldn’t let me wear his chains, so I’ll focus on the star of Cuckold Creampie 7 and Average Joe Shoots His Load, Jesse Jane.
Most people assume that working for a porn mag means dodging stray fannies and funbags from nine to five, but that’s as far from the truth as the average Billy Shorten speech, so I was excited hear that the world’s most famous bongo star was coming into the office to strip naked and wobble around for us. And, thank fuck, it wasn’t Ron Jeremy.
When Jesse rocked up, two things were immediately obvious; 1) She’s the size of a small cat, which must be flattering to her male co-stars and 2) She’s got a mouth wide enough to take six cocks at once and still allow room for her to chew on a Big Mac.
Despite allowing strangers to ejaculate on her face for money, the pole-riding pocket rocket was truly charming, and I had a great perve on her big tits and not-tight-at-all poontang. It was all going gangbusters until she decided to start smacking me with a baseball bat. Shit, some fellas would pay a week’s wages to be treated like that!
We finished off with a game of indoor cricket, which must’ve been a familiar situation for Jesse, who has experience with many men waving bats at her. She actually smacked me in the head with the willow, marking the first time Jesse Jane has been the one to give the facial.
As the porn goddess was packing up her puppies and climbing back into her clobber, I realised that this would probably be best chance to score with the most masturbated-over woman on the planet (sorry, Queen Elizabeth). So I sidled up to Jesse, flashed her my best smile and hit her with the funniest, wittiest, most thought-provoking pick-up line of all time.
Unfortunately, Jesse didn’t hear it because she was too busy laughing at the fact that I had ejaculated in my pants. I was crushed, and had to spend the rest of the day with a jumper wrapped around my waist, giving the impression that I may have pooed myself.
That night, while reminiscing over lost loves and missed opportunities, I stumbled upon a video of Jesse Jane entertaining a number of porno blokes dressed as footballers, who looked as if they could stand on the halfway line and piss in the in-goals, and realised that she probably wasn’t the girl for me.
The first thing I did when I got into work the next morning was disinfect my fucking desk.
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