Christmas Cums Early Ch. 01

Chris parked beside an abandoned gas station and turned the light off inside her car. She didn't want anyone to see her do this.

She unbuttoned her pants and began to slide them down her legs. The feeling of sitting in her car with no pants on embarrassed her and, strangely enough, excited her.

Holding the shorts in her hand, she paused for a moment and looked down at her panties. She was sure that she wasn't going to look very good wearing a pair of short pajama shorts over her mundane pink panties.

Pink isn't even a color she enjoyed wearing, but this pair of panties came in a pack of five at MegaMart and she wanted to be financially thrifty. She wasn't about to spend more money on underwear than she needed to.

"Oh well," she resigned, before putting her legs into the shorts. She pulled them up and adjusted them to fit them in place.

"This is so weird," she thought. "What the hell am I doing?"

The old Chevy Corsica sat in the backlot of Sal's Pizza. Chris had texted Raj to let him know that she was here and to bring any orders out that she had to deliver. This was the standard operating procedure for Chris and it allowed her to hide her lower half from the prying eyes of her co-workers. Carlos may say something disgusting to her and everyone else may make fun of her. While she wasn't fat, she wasn't toned either. With breasts like hers, working out was completely out of the question. The only way she could avoid gaining weight was to watch what she was eating.

After a deep breath, she saw Raj with a stack of pizza boxes walking toward her car. She frantically tried to find something to put in her lap so that Raj wouldn't see her shorts or her bare legs.

Her efforts were to no avail, however, as Raj came to her passenger side window and knocked on it. Rolling her window down, she saw that Raj had noticed her thighs sticking to her seat. He seemed very surprised, but in a good way.

"Uh, here's the, uh, the orders," Raj stammered. "They're going to, uh, the addresses are on the receipts. Be careful."

Chris forced a smile and thanked him. Raj took one last glance at Chris' bare legs before heading back inside. He wasn't very talkative at work, so she wasn't worried that he would tell everyone inside about her predicament.

The first address was 923 Santa Anna Ave. This was another street nestled in one of the most depressed areas of River City. There were several abandoned residences that were home to squatters and meth cooks. These parts of town always made her nervous, but her fear was amplified tonight. She knew she would be stepping out of her car and walking to some stranger's home wearing a tiny pair of shorts. She felt like a fish in an ocean full of sharks.

The home she needed to arrive at was a small one-story residence. The yard was unkempt, but that wasn't its most notable feature. That honor went to the large blue tarp covering a window that had likely been busted out. Maybe their home was broken into or someone shot the window out. Both were likely scenarios.

She looked around before exiting her car to make sure no one was around. Conditions seemed as good as they were going to get for her as things were quiet right now. No one would likely notice her so she wanted to make this quick.

At the door, she could hear several dogs barking. They had smelled the pizza and were losing their minds. This startled Chris and she began to shake. All she could hope for was that the owner would take the pizzas soon and make sure the dogs stayed inside.

Suddenly, the decrepit white screen door flew open and an older looking woman stood in front of her. Chris didn't like being judgmental, but she deduced that this woman was younger than she looked and was likely on drugs. Her arms were littered with scabs and she was missing several of her teeth. Her hair looked as if it hadn't been brushed in years.

The woman put the cigarette down on the concrete block in front of the door - saving it.

"How much do I owe ya, sweetie?" she asked.

Chris gulped, "Uh, $22.83."

The woman's eyes widened, "Damn, honey. Sal's a greedy son of a bitch, ain't he?"

She dug through the pockets of her short denim skirt and pulled out two wads of cash. Instead of letting her keep a generous tip, the woman handed Chris the cash and asked her to count it for her. Clearly, she was in no state to do that for herself. Chris could have ripped the woman off, but she would have felt terrible about it.

"You've got $24 here," Chris said.

"Can I get a dollar? You keep the rest?"

Chris sighed lightly, "Sure" and handed the woman a dollar.

Before she entered the house, the woman said, "You know, if I had swung that way, I'd see that big 'ol ass of yours and invited you inside" she laughed.

Chris forced a smile and walked swiftly to her car.

She had almost gone through an entire delivery without anyone noticing her shorts and this woman had to make a comment.

Looking at the next receipt, she saw that she needed to go to 1380 Barcelona. A sigh of relief washed over her. She knew that Barcelona was a lot safer than the crime infested stretch of "living" that Santa Anna was.

Barcelona wasn't upscale, but it wasn't rundown either. You weren't going to leave your car unlocked, but you weren't going to worry about getting shot outside either. The River City Metropolitan Police Department had a cop that lived on that block, so the neighborhood was monitored pretty well.

The house she arrived at was a two-story middle class brick home that was created at the turn of the last century. The settlers of River City went nuts making a ton of homes that all seemed to look the same. They wanted to fit as many people into the budding city as they could.

Unlike the previous neighborhood, this one was more lively. A woman was walking her dog and her customer's elderly neighbor was sitting on his porch.

"Great, they're all going to get a show," she lamented.

She took a deep breath and got out of her car.

Chris always liked to hold the pizza boxes against the top of her chest. She rationalized that this would hide her extremely ample breasts from anyone who looked at her - and they did. They acted as canopies and hid her massive tits from prying eyes - unless someone looked down. Usually customers were too busy looking hungrily at the pizza boxes to notice anything else.

But tonight was different. Her short, bare legs were going to be hard to ignore.

She stood at the front door anxiously awaiting whoever ordered the two large half pepperoni half sausage and bacon pizzas.

When no one answered after two knocks, she wondered if someone had ordered the pizza and changed their minds or did it as a joke.

The old man next door had started noticing her. This made her self conscious and she tried to stand closer to the door - hoping the protruding side of the home would shield her from his gaze.

The owner of the pizzas came outside and was startled to see Chris standing against the side of his home.

"You scared me," Jamal Randall sighed.

"Uh, sorry, I-", she stuttered, "Here are your pizzas. Total is-", Chris looked at the receipt, "$23.56."

Jamal looked down at Chris' legs and smirked.

"Sal got you girl's new uniforms?" he asked.

Embarrassed, but not wanting to be rude, she responded, "Kinda."

She felt awful being lumped in with girls who would sell themselves like this in order to make a buck. Chris had tried her whole life to be different than other girls, but that seemed impossible at times. She knew that there were a lot of men who would still her as nothing but a sex object. Her personality, achievements, hopes, and dreams didn't matter. The only thing that did was her body and what she did with it.

Jamal's large muscular arms reached behind him and pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. He counted several bills quietly, before handing them to Chris. She thanked him and began walking back to her car.

"Hey," Jamal said.

Chris stopped and curiously looked at Jamal.

"I'll give ya another twenty if you turn around," he chuckled.

This whole night had been soul crushing with Josh letting her down and the embarrassment she felt parading around in front of people's homes in a tiny pair of cotton shorts.

She wanted to run back to her car and quit her job, but knowing that she had bills to pay - she stayed put.

Chris thought for a moment, but it seemed like an eternity. For the first time in her life, she thought about actually doing something she thought was "trashy" in front of a total stranger. Once again, a mixture of embarrassment and excitement shot through her young body.

Slowly, and reluctantly, Chris turned around for Jamal. He got a great view of her plump ass straining against the confines of her cotton shorts. Her ass seemed to swallow her shorts and her panties as both were in the crack of her ass.

She noticed this and immediately pulled her shorts, and panties, out of her ass and turned around.

"Hell yeah, girl, here ya go," Jamal said, handing her a twenty dollar bill.

Chris' shaky hand reached out and took it from him. She had just accepted money for something that sexually gratified a man - a stranger at that!

She sat in her car once again, in Sal's backlot, waiting for Raj to give her more orders. Her phone lit up as it lay in her passenger seat. Josh had blown up her phone all night. He was saying anything he could to get her not to be mad at him anymore. But she was and she was going to be for quite some time.

The local college radio station kept her entertained for the next eleven minutes before Raj came out again to give her some more orders.

Before he got to the car, she already had the window down. Like clockwork, Raj placed the boxers in her passenger seat. He made it a point to steal another look at her creamy white thighs before going back inside.

The attention that men were giving her tonight was unprecedented. A simple pair of shorts had turned her entire world upside down. She still felt like "boring 'ol Christmas Griswald", but to men, she was an object of sexual gratification. She had always encountered creeps, but she felt like they would have been that way to any woman they saw - no matter how they looked. But tonight, she started to believe that these men may actually like what they see.

Could they? Was she attractive? She had felt like she was the short tomboy with the massive saggy tits and fat ass that would never get the attention of "hot guys" - like the kind who ignored her all throughout high school.

A little surge of confidence crept its way inside Chris' head and she wasn't as nervous as she was earlier in the night. "Maybe I like men looking at me," she pondered. "Maybe being looked at isn't that bad. Nobody's trying anything."

That's how she made sense of her newfound, albeit small amount of self esteem that she had picked up in the last ten minutes.

The next order would be going to 1401 Clendenny Way. She had never delivered to that street before, but she thought the name was familiar. She looked at the GPS on her phone and, sure enough, it was a side street to Santa Anna Ave. - the seedy part of town she was at before.

The unholy harmony of large, barking dogs rang out as she pulled up to the customer's house. She had to park on the side of the street, as the driveway was full. The busted concrete driveway had a motorcycle at the front next to a broken car on a jack with no tires. Behind it was a large purple van with no license plate.

The van not having plates worried her quite a bit. Where was the confidence she had just a little bit ago? All of that seemed to fly out the window when she saw that creepy van. "Someone could kidnap people and get away with it owning a van like that," she thought.

She lightly closed her car door so as to not get the attention of the neighborhood's shady inhabitants or their angry canines.

Chris knocked on the door and stepped away from it.

"Yo," she heard a male voice say.

Startled, Chris turned around and looked in the dark to find who had spoken to her.

A white man, probably in his late 20's, sat on a distressed lawn chair with a beer in his hand. He wasn't wearing a shirt and all of his poorly inked tattoos were visible. He wore a pair of dirty blue jeans with oil stains all over them and brown work boots.

"Baby, why don't you come over here and keep me warm?"

"Maybe you wouldn't be cold if you put a shirt on," she thought, though she dare not actually say that to him.

"Ron, leave that pretty little thing alone. Can't you see she's trying to feed us?" said a man who exited the home.

The man reached for the pizzas and nodded at Chris. She nervously smiled back at him.

His name was Jack Dennis and everyone in that neighborhood knew he was the second best meth cook in the area. That was a fact that Chris knew nothing about it. That life was foreign to her and she wanted to keep it that way.

"How much?"

Chris blurted out, "$26.78"

Jack looked Chris up and down before he paid her.

"Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm!" he said with a big smile across his face.

"Check her out," Ron said.

"I am, you fucking idiot. I see what she's got," Jack snapped.

"I mean, we haven't seen ALL that she's got," Ron laughed.

"What'ya say, baby? How about you give us a spin?" Jack asked.

She had already done that for her last customer, but he paid her twenty dollars. Jack and Ron made no mention of compensating her for a look at her backside.

The men scared Chris and she wasn't about to argue with them. She swallowed hard and handed the pizzas to Jack. He took them and placed them on an old milk crate on the porch.

Chris slowly, and nervously, turned around.

"Stop," Ron barked. "Look at that shit, big 'ol ass. I bet that's a lot of fun!"

"Probably not as fun as those titties. You see 'em?" Jack asked.

"Fuck no, turn back around," Ron ordered.

Chris obeyed and turned around. Had she been more confident, Chris would have stood up straight and made her breasts look more impressive. Instead, both men got to look at her breasts straining against her ugly black Sal's Pizza polo shirt. Luckily for her, they were pushed up with the help of an even uglier bra that she owned.

"Holy fucking shit!" Ron exclaimed.

Both men high fived each other.

"Hey baby, how big are them things?" Jack asked.

No one, besides Josh or her mother, ever knew her bra size and here she was, thinking of telling these creepy strangers how big her breasts were.

"What harm could it do?" she thought. "A lot actually. If you tell them, it could get them more excited. You've seen that van in the driveway. You need to get out of there."

She had to be honest. If she lied to them, they'd know it. There was no way a girl with breasts that big could trick anyone into thinking she had a significantly less impressive cup size.

"38J," she admitted quietly.

Ron and Jack's eyes widened.

"Your ex-wife had tits about that size," Jack stated, "But the bitch was like 300 pounds. There's no reason why tits that big belong on a girl that small."

Just then, a woman came out of the home wearing a light blue nightgown with pink rollers in her hair and a cigarette hanging from her mouth.

"Just pay the girl and get back inside. Leave her alone," she barked.

Thank God. Chris was about to get a much needed reprieve.

Jack paid for the pizzas and Chris was off to the next house.

While she was driving, everything that just happened flashed through her mind. Not only did she give two guys a free look at her ass, even though it was covered, she also told them her bra size. What was happening tonight?

That thought ran through her head as she drove to her next stop - 805 Venecci Court. This place was a whole other ward away from Clendenny and Santa Anna, but it was in its own rough neighborhood.

River City's officials weren't interested in the "unattractive" or "less desirable" parts of the city. They paid all their attention to the rich neighborhoods; sports teams; and kickbacks that the two big corporations gave them - River City Steel and Colton Cola.

Venecci Court was full of section 8 housing. The city placed these properties in these neighborhoods on purpose. They didn't want the poor bothering them where they live. This hurt the chances of any of its inhabitants to thrive on their own. There were no major employers nearby and there were only two small, family owned grocery stores and one gas station.

The address she was given was at one of the section 8 communities - Venecci Homes. The police were called to this neighborhood quite a bit to break up domestic disturbances and kick out renters who couldn't pay their bills.

"If I don't do something, I could end up here," Chris thought. Sunnybrook was no paradise, but it wasn't near as bad as some of the places she had seen tonight.

"This must be my lucky day," she told herself, seeing her customer waiting for her outside his home.

The man seemed to be in his late 30's. He had a beer gut that stuck out of his white tank top. His bare feet stuck out at the ends of a pair of torn up bluejeans.

Chris slowly got out of her car and reached inside for the pizzas.

She heard someone whistle loudly and immediately put the pizza down. She looked around to see who had done that, but couldn't see anyone.

Closing her door, she took the pizza over to the man.

Unlike her previous customers, this guy was quiet. He gave her the creeps a little bit, but he wasn't saying anything - or better yet, asking her to do anything. She appreciated this more than the man would ever know.

Chris told him the total and he said, "Hang on."

The man disappeared back inside his house to get more money. He had thought the total would be less than what it turned out to be.

Patiently, Chris stood there, feeling a chill from the night air tickle her soft thighs.

And there it was again - the whistle.

Someone she couldn't see could see her and they liked what they saw enough to continue whistling at her.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," she pleaded, hoping the man would return quickly.

Then it happened again, but this time, it was followed by something loud, but unintelligible.

She looked around trying to find the source of the harassment.

An elderly man in a pair of dusty blue coveralls came out from the darkness behind one of the other homes and began walking toward her.

"Fuck," Chris said. She had left her phone in her car. She knew she would need it if things got out of hand.

The man a yard away from her now and Chris could see him closing in on her. She wondered what he wanted. Maybe she could get him to go away by turning around for him too. She would be lucky to get off that easy.

Her customer was taking forever to get the rest of the cash needed for his pizza - which was now getting cold.

"Hey honey," the old man said, "I saw them shorts ya got on. Haven't seen a pizza girl look like you before. Hell, I don't think we seen a single girl delivering pizzas neither. What's your name?"

"Chris-Christmas," she replied.

"That's a helluva name, girlie. You're all sorts of special tonight, ain't ya?"

"I guess?"

He paced around her to get a better look at her body. The old man made no attempts to hide his interest in Chris. These shorts had flipped her invisible tomboy image upside down. She looked, and felt, like somebody new, but she wasn't sure she was completely on board with this.

It was thrilling to display herself, even in small doses, to some of the men tonight, but how far would she be willing to go? How far would be safe for her? That was the better question.

Chris felt an ache between her legs that was unmistakable. She was getting aroused.

She felt that she shouldn't feel this way about men, who aren't Josh, looking at her - let alone men that were this shady and dangerous. That logic was not lost on her, but it didn't matter. Her arousal was making her feel too good.