tagNonConsent/ReluctanceClaire's Career Ch. 04: The Shop Assistant

Claire's Career Ch. 04: The Shop Assistant

byseth_perm©

Part 4: The Shop Assistant

Claire swayed precariously at the top of the step ladder as she stacked a handful of Agatha Christie books on the highest shelf in the store.

"It's OK, Claire," Mr. Sharma said from below her as held the ladder, "I've got it."

Claire smiled down at him. "Thanks, Mr. Sharma." He was so sweet. This was her first day in the RSPHNFFP charity shop and Mr. Sharma had looked after her really well.

Her only minor concern was that she was certain that, if he were to look, Mr. Sharma would be able to see the tops of her green hold-up stockings and her perfectly shaped milky smooth bottom as well as the bulge of her beautifully presented pussy through her miniscule matching thong, all under a petite white micro skirt.

Luckily, Claire thought, Mr. Sharma was an old man, well past the age when a young woman, even one as gloriously attractive and fat-breasted as herself, would hold any sort of interest for him.

She bent down to pick up the last of the books and paused in concern at the unusual growl emanating from Mr. Sharma.

"Oh, are you OK, Mr. Sharma?" she asked.

He swallowed and nodded. Claire considered whether he had been distracted by her considerable cleavage as she leant over him but dismissed the thought before putting the books onto the shelf.

"Right," she said breezily. "That's done. What's next?" she said as she took the hand Mr. Sharma gallantly offered to help her down.

Claire had decided to volunteer for the Royal Society for the Prevention of Hurt and Nastiness to Fluffy and Furry Pets in their charity shop after her training as an actress had come to a premature end.

She had been training under the talented yet obese director of the Southbury Players, Justin Maltravers-Fosteringhall, comprehensively rehearsing the part of a fledgling porn star in Justin's new play.

Justin had kindly played the male parts whilst practising allowing her throw herself into practising the long involved sex scenes in particular.

Unfortunately she had been licking clean Justin's filthy erection after he had just vigorously arse-fucked her, when he'd had a heart attack. She had called an ambulance but the still-conscious Justin had exhorted her to leave before it arrived and Claire had reluctantly assented.

Between gasps of breath, Justin had explained that he didn't want his wife to find out he'd gone into cardiac arrest while his dirty cock was in the hot sticky mouth of a beautiful young woman, even if all they were actually doing was rehearsing a scene. Claire had been a little worried but she'd had to admit that it wouldn't have been easy to explain to Danny, her boyfriend, either.

She had tentatively texted Justin a few worried days later and he had confirmed that he was all right but that he'd had to have triple bypass operation and so their mutual dream of a blockbusting West End sex-industry themed theatre production would have to be put on ice indefinitely.

Cursing her luck, Claire had kicked her heels for a couple of weeks while she had thought about her next move. In rapid succession she had lost her careers as receptionist, saleswoman, teaching assistant and actress and she was feeling more than a little disheartened.

She wanted a job that was within her capabilities and allowed her to meet people but also one of which Danny would approve. He was always expressing his unfounded and overprotective concern that she was easily exploited and a touch naïve which was of course complete nonsense but as the love of her life he had to be humoured.

When she had seen a 'Help Wanted' sign in the shabby window of the RSPHNFFP shop, she had just known that this was her calling. The shop itself was very old-fashioned and dim but what worthier cause was there than the protection of cute fluffy animals?

Danny had also agreed that working in a charity shop where the average age of the other volunteers was in the sixties would not only be safe but also worthy and straightforward.

She had been perfunctorily interviewed by a sweet old lady, Elsie, and told to come in the next day where she would be running the shop with the help of an experienced colleague.

And that was how she had found herself up a ladder helping a tiny wrinkled old Indian man put excess crime thrillers onto the top shelf of the book section.

Claire had decided that the usual uniform of the charity shop wasn't for her. She was an attractive young woman with long auburn hair, green eyes, freckled pale skin and a tall full-busted leggy figure that made her boyfriend and, indeed, many other men drool with desire. She felt that a muted cardigan or a fusty old dress just wouldn't suit her so, in addition to her aforementioned white mini-skirt and green underwear, she had worn white platform-heeled boots and a tight stretchy green-and-white-checked v-necked top that made extraordinary geometric patterns over her enormous yet firm boobs.

Danny had said that her outfit would be too much for a charity shop but when she'd come in Mr. Sharma had been very complimentary about her appearance.

They'd spent the morning unhurriedly putting the previous day's donations onto shelves whilst Mr. Sharma explained the various workings of the shop.

When Claire commented on the fact they'd not had any customers, he explained that they were generally very quiet during the week apart from around lunchtime when maybe one or two customers would come in.

"But the important thing is that we are doing our best for both fluffy and furry pets," Mr. Sharma said solemnly at which Claire smiled warmly. What a lovely old man, she thought.

They chatted inconsequentially as they continued to process contributions, Claire confessing her frustration that she hadn't been able to hold down a job and how much more fulfilling doing charity work felt.

Mr. Sharma explained that he himself had volunteered as a consequence of following the ancient creed of Effulgent Zoroastrianism. "The central tenets of my religion involve generating the greatest net benefit to both humanity and the universe as a whole; in short, I must live my life maximising the pleasure of others (both animal and human) and minimising their pain."

Although Claire didn't fully understand some of the more abstruse elements of Mr. Sharma's philosophical position, she had to agree that, generally, it sounded like a good thing. Mr. Sharma himself came across as very thoughtful and gallant, supervising Claire's work intimately and always willing to offer his hand to her as she climbed up and down the steps.

By the afternoon, the skies had turned ominously dismal and so Claire was unsurprised when it started to rain heavily.

"Oh dear," Claire sighed. "It looks as if we're not going to have many more customers today."

"Let us take this opportunity to sort through the vases and curios. They really are enormously disordered and dusty," Mr. Sharma suggested in his cultured sub-continental accent.

The ornaments were on some rickety old shelves right at the back of the shop wedged into a space between the kitchen implements and ball gowns.

Once again, Claire climbed up the stepladder which unfortunately couldn't be brought as close to the fixture as she'd have liked because of the narrowness of the gap. Instead she reached out her impractically-shod right foot onto one of the lower shelves so that her legs were splayed across the aisle, one on the shelf, the other on the ladder.

Ms. Sharma stood on a low stool in front of her as she slowly passed down various pieces of bric-a-brac to him. She was even more acutely aware that, in this awkward and exposed position with her legs stretched wide apart, he couldn't have helped have noticed her pink pussy lips which were bulging plumply around the narrow gusset of her g-string, only inches from his face.

Suddenly, as Claire picked up two delicate porcelain vases, the now-empty top shelf, which quite possibly until now hadn't been touched in years, collapsed noisily, luckily falling outwards without taking down the ornaments below it.

As Claire shouted out in concern for Mr. Sharma below her, Mr. Sharma himself reached out around Claire to grab her bottom in an effort to stop her from falling, accidentally pulling her crotch towards him so that her gusset pulled to one side and her juicy pussy rubbed wetly over his face.

"Oh! Mr. Sharma!" Claire exclaimed in surprise, her cunt lips now fully exposed to his gaze.

When the dust had settled, Claire was still precariously balanced between the ladder and the shelf, holding a fragile vase in each hand with nowhere to put them. Mr. Sharma was standing on a stool, his hands tightly squeezing Claire's delicious bum and his nose buried in Claire's exposed damp pussy.

"Mr. Sharma, please will you take these vases. You can let go now. I won't fall. I just can't get down holding these," she said, desperately embarrassed at the situation. "Mr Sharma?" Claire added in concern at his lack of response.

After a pause, Mr Sharma finally replied. "Claire you leave me in a very difficult position. You know my religion insists that I must take all opportunity to maximise the pleasure of others. I am now in a situation where I would quite easily be able to give an inordinate amount of pleasure to you. If I take the vases from you then you will be able to descend the ladder and the prospect will pass. I feel that I have no choice but to..."

Claire gasped as Mr. Sharma deliberately licked her pussy up and then down.

"Oooh! Mr. Sharma!" she squeaked in shock. But then he began to gently flick her rapidly stiffening clit with his tongue in a purposeful and exquisite manner causing her to gasp in sudden pleasure. "Oh, Mr. Sharma," she groaned as he brought his right hand around to slowly insert his middle finger into her tight hot pussy.

For the next ten minutes, Mr. Sharma licked Claire's pussy as it had never been licked before. His technique varied from the subtle to the vigorous but his tongue, lips and fingers seemed to touch her in exactly the right way with exactly the right force at exactly the right time, exciting her more and more with every nibble, slurp and twitch.

At first she worried about being caught by a customer but very quickly she reasoned that they couldn't be seen from outside, that it was unlikely that there would be any customers anyway and that, in any case, the bell on the door would alert them if anyone did come in.

Instead, rather wickedly, she did her utmost to bring herself to orgasm under Mr. Sharma's expert ministrations although he seemed to be purposefully bringing her to the brink of climax before taking her back down again repeatedly until she was desperate for release.

When she finally came, after a good twenty minutes of intense pussy licking, her orgasm was explosive and prolonged.

"Oh, fuck yes, Mr. Sharma!" she screamed in pleasure as she ground her pussy into his upturned face, dropping both of her carefully protected vases.

Mr. Sharma casually reached out to catch them, one in each hand, and place them carefully on a lower shelf before stepping down off the stool.

Claire stepped over and hugged the step-ladder until she'd stopped shuddering blissfully.

"Oh, wow, Mr. Sharma. That was amazing!" she said eventually in wonder. "Where did you learn to do that?" Before he could answer though, a wave of guilt hit her. "Oh, no! That was really naughty, Mr. Sharma. You shouldn't have!"

Mr. Sharma inclined his head to her serenely. "Claire, I realise that I have taken an intimate liberty with your most excellent body but I once you had so kindly presented me with your exquisite and bare vagina, I felt compelled to provide you with the most intense pleasure that I was able to impart. To do anything else would be against my religion."

"Oh, well. I suppose that's different. It's my own fault really for wearing such a short skirt," Claire conceded gratefully, trying to put the whole matter behind her.

"No, I have to say it is really most pleasant to be able to look at such an attractive young woman," he answered gracefully.

Claire blushed at his compliment. She came down off the ladder and knelt down to pick the fallen shelf up.

As she did son, she looked up and was shaken to see an unmistakable bulge in Mr. Sharma's trousers.

"Mr. Sharma!" she exclaimed in horror. "You've got a..., you know!"

Mr. Sharma looked down. "Goodness me. So I have. Well this really is a surprise. That hasn't happened in a good six years."

"Really?" Despite the embarrassment of the situation, Claire was intrigued and slightly proud that she had been able give Mr. Sharma his first erection for six years without even touching him.

"Yes. Mrs. Sharma and I are too old for such exertions. Or so I had thought," he said, shaking his head. "Oh dear this really is very awkward. I'm afraid the sight, the feel, the taste of your gorgeous vagina and wonderful peach-like bottom has stirred me deeply. I just don't know what to do."

In spite of her discomfiture, Claire couldn't tear her eyes away from his crotch whilst she knelt at his feet.

"Um, well do you want to go and relieve yourself in the lavatory?" she suggested tentatively.

He shook his head dolefully. "I'm afraid that the doctrine too which I subscribe, despite advocating the increase in net happiness for others, is somewhat ascetic as far as personal lust and gluttony goes. I cannot commit onanistic acts."

Looking at Claire's puzzled expression, he clarified, "I can't pleasure myself; it's against my religion." Claire finally nodded her understanding. He continued despondently, "What a shame. The first time I achieve tumescence in years and not only is Mrs. Sharma not on hand, as it were, to help me out but it is also most uncomfortably long-lasting with no sign of abating. Whatever can I do?"

Claire looked up at him sympathetically. The poor man. She had until this point been feeling guilty that she'd let a man other than her boyfriend lick her pussy to a turbulent orgasm but now she was feeling guilty that she'd left him so obviously in discomfort.

She had an idea.

"Um, well, I suppose, maybe, well perhaps, I could help you out a bit," she said tentatively.

"Really? Whatever can you mean?" Mr. Sharma said with perhaps just a hint of eagerness in his voice.

Claire was blushing again as she explained. "Well, perhaps, I could just help you out instead of Mrs. Sharma?"

Mr. Sharma paused to consider.

"Only if that doesn't violate your religion. Of course we wouldn't tell anyone," she added hurriedly, worried that she'd offended him.

"Well, I suppose that karma would then be satisfied. OK then. Just this once. But as you say it would have to be our secret," he kindly conceded.

Claire smiled in relief and dropped the shelf before reaching out to unzip his trousers. "Oh, thanks. Mr. Sharma. I'm so pleased I can do this for you," she said in anticipation.

Mr. Sharma's cock wasn't large but it was a lot nicer than some of the penises with which she had recently become acquainted. Although it was extremely wrinkled and brown, it was clean and smelt faintly of cinnamon.

Slowly at first and then more confidently she began to wank him with her right hand, whilst tenderly squeezing his balls with the other.

"Aaah, Claire. That really is most satisfactory. Thank you," he sighed in pleasure as she worked her hand up and down his stubby erection, pulling his deep brown foreskin back and forth to reveal his pink glans.

Considering it had been such a long time since Mr. Sharma had been aroused, Claire felt that he was taking a long time to bring to climax, even though she eventually allowed him to squeeze her great big tits and pinch her stiff red nipples through her top.

Eventually after switching hands twice, he warned her that he was getting close. "Ah, Claire. I can feel myself reaching an imminent culmination."

Claire looked around fruitlessly for something into which he could come.

He continued. "Claire, I have something to tell you."

"Yes, Mr. Sharma," she said distractedly, keen for him not to come on her face, hair or clothes.

"I should have mentioned this earlier but it slipped my mind. Another sacred tenet of my religion is that I must not spill my seed outside of a woman's body."

Claire stopped dead. "Do you mean...?" she began.

"Yes. I need to come inside you. Please, Claire."

Claire was slightly annoyed that he hadn't mentioned it before but she shrugged her shoulders. She wasn't a religious person herself but she understood how important religions were to their subscribers. She decided on the easiest way to fulfil Mr. Sharma's needs.

Opening her mouth wide, she plunged it immediately down on his cock and slid her lips all the way down to his neat pubes. She thrashed her tongue around him as she slowly slipped back up, ending with a hearty suck on the end of his cock. He tasted inoffensively and mildly spicy.

This seemed to finally shake Mr. Sharma's equanimity as he grabbed her by her long red hair and began to vigorously fuck her mouth while swearing in a foreign language. After a few minutes of making forceful love to Claire's pretty pursed mouth, he finally shouted, "Yes! Oh fuck, yes!" before squirting repeatedly over her tongue and down her throat.

Once he'd finished shuddering and shaking, Claire pulled her mouth slowly off him, making sure she had captured every drop of his jism before swallowing it all smoothly.

She knelt back and pulled his foreskin back and forth a couple of times to squeeze out any that was left and was rewarded with one final fat drop of cum which she lapped up immediately.

"Was that OK, Mr. Sharma?" she finally asked.

"Yes, Claire. That really was most excellent," he replied warmly before adjusting his trousers and helping her to her feet. "Come, let's forget about what has happened and get this troublesome shelf back up."

For the rest of the afternoon they re-erected the shelf and dusted and rearranged the vases and ornaments. One potential customer, a greasy blond boy in his late teens, came in briefly just before closing time but he didn't buy anything: he just had a good gawp at Claire before blushing and leaving hurriedly.

Mr. Sharma looked after him perplexedly. "Oh, that's a shame. That was Peter. He is a regular customer of our books section. He usually goes away with an armful of novels but not today I suppose."

As they closed the store, Claire bent down to pick up a jacket that had fallen from a rack. Without really thinking she bent at the waist, once more exposing her stunning arse to Mr. Sharma.

"Oh, Claire!" he exclaimed. "You have done it again."

Claire turned to find another bulge in Mr. Sharma's trousers.

She looked up at his apologetic old face, sighed, checked they couldn't be seen from outside and knelt down in front of him.

This time she lifted her top and undid her bra before beginning to suck him forcefully right from the off. Gratefully, Mr. Sharma fondled her massive boobs and stiff high reddish-brown nipples while Claire bobbed her head pneumatically on his stiff dark dick, frenetically flicking her tongue over his knob as she sucked and slurped.

After a while Claire's neck began to hurt so she paused her oral ministrations while continuing to toss him hurriedly.

"Claire, I have had a thought," Mr. Sharma said.

Claire looked up at him wondering what he was going to say now.

"It would seem that I have been thoughtless in allowing you to fellate me so wonderfully. Why, if, as seems inevitable, I copiously flood your pretty mouth with my seed once more then I will be guilty of perpetrating an action that would result in a cosmic imbalance," he said, while rolling her nipples casually between his thumb and forefingers.

"What do you mean?" Claire asked, dumbfounded. Was he really suggesting that he didn't want to come in her mouth? No man had ever refused the chance to come in her mouth.

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