Thanks to seth_perm for letting me borrow the lovely Claire Bell, she's a fantastic character to have a little fun with. If you haven't already read them, make sure you check out the Claire's Career stories by seth_perm they're currently some of my favourite tales of lust and humour on literotica.
Anyway, on with the story:
"Is this really necessary?" asked Claire Bell with some irritation as the young department store clerk squeezed her large, firm boobs through her top, giving them a good feel. Claire was a gorgeous young woman in her mid twenties, with long red hair and a killer body that often drew her too much attention.
"We don't offer refunds so I need to be sure you're buying the correct size," the man explained as he fondled her lovely melons. He looked to be in his mid twenties as well, although his face was marked by enough acne to make a teenager proud.
Claire frowned at this, his explanation momentarily confusing her. The curvy redhead wasn't the quickest thinker in the world. In the meantime, the clerk didn't hesitate to continue his groping, mauling Claire's big tits through her tight fitting white t-shirt. The top had the word 'babe' printed across the chest, although the man's fondling fingers caused the words to disappear and contort as he sunk them into the generous mountains of Claire's bosom.
"But the shirt's not for me," protested Claire at last, holding up the blue and black striped men's shirt she was trying to purchase. "It's for my boyfriend Danny. It's a Christmas present."
"Oh," replied the clerk in disappointment. He gave the beautiful redhead's big hooters once last brief squeeze and then dropped his hands away. "What's your boyfriend's neck measurement?"
"Forty centimetres," replied Claire, she smiled inwardly, rather pleased at herself for remembering to check Danny's size before going shopping, she'd had a heap of trouble getting it right in the past.
The spotty faced clerk gave the shirt a quick glance. "That's the right size," he confirmed.
Claire thanked him. She was always amazed at how easy it was to buy men's clothing. In her experience it was always a nightmare finding the right size when it came to women's clothing, and she often had to try on numerous different outfits and get measured, poked, squeezed and probed when she went shopping for herself. Usually by male store clerks strangely.
The busty redhead paid for her purchase and then started to leave. When she reached the front door of the department store she noticed a sign, it was a job advertisement for the store.
Claire read the ad with interest. She was currently unemployed and hadn't had much luck with jobs at all since losing her hairdressing job. In fact she'd done everything from acting, to teaching, to door to door sales, singing, consulting, you name it, and she'd done it.
The ad seemed to be a temporary job for the holiday's as the department store's Mrs Claus for their Santa's grotto. Claire had worked in sales, and had even been an actress for a short while. She also loved children and Christmas. It sounded like the perfect job as far as she was concerned.
Not wanting anyone else to beat her to it, Claire ripped the ad down off the door and immediately asked the nearest shop assistant to give her directions to the department store manager's office.
Mr Bostok, the store manager, wasn't busy and saw her immediately. He was a short, rather plump middle aged man with a very red face and a busy brown moustache. His pale blue business shirt looked a couple of sizes too small, the buttons gaping as the material stretched across his sizeable torso and giving Claire an unpleasant view of his pale, flabby and apparently rather hairy, tummy.
"I think I can do an outstanding job as Mrs Claus," Claire assured Mr Bostok after she explained why she was there.
Mr Bostok's gaze was glued to the swelling front of Claire's t-shirt, her chest seemingly impossibly large as it thrust proudly out towards him. The rather nervous looking store manager mopped his profusely sweating brow with a handkerchief as he considered Claire's request.
"I...ah..." he stammered anxiously, the presence of the stacked redhead in his office making him lose all trains of thought.
"Please Mr Bostok," begged Claire, doing her best to smile as sweetly as possible at the shy, chubby businessman.
"Um," he frowned, licking his lips as he watched the eye popping rise and fall of Claire's chest as she breathed. "Ah, go down to the grotto and see Mr Cox our Santa. I'm sure he'll be pleased to have you aboard."
"Oh thank you!" blurted Claire happily. She jumped up and clapped her hands together in elation, the sudden movement causing her big breasts to jiggle delightfully.
Mr Bostok's eyes went wide at the mind boggling view and he abruptly sat down behind his desk, uncomfortably crossing his legs.
"Thank you so much!" Claire gushed, spinning on her heels and marching out of the room to track down the store's Santa.
Mr Bostok mournfully watched Claire's perfect arse walk away, the firm round globes of her buttocks dancing agreeably inside her tight blue, figure-hugging jeans as she sauntered off.
Santa's Grotto, as the store's Christmas display was called, was on the ground floor of the department store. It was a large, rather shabbily constructed Christmas display with cheap flashing fairy lights, fake stuffed deer that looked many years old and a big wooden throne that was painted with chipped red paint. It was definitely a few years past it's prime.
The grotto was surrounded by a red curtain, which was currently open at the front so Claire tentatively stepped inside.
Fitting in perfectly with the decrepit Christmas display was Des Cox, the store's Santa Claus, who also looked like he was past his use-by date.
In a pose that seemed a tribute to Al Bundy, Des was slumped in the red throne, half asleep, with a bottle of beer in one hand and his other hand stuffed half way down the front of his red Santa pants. His fur-trimmed red jacket hung open, revealing a badly stained white singlet and his fake beard had fallen off his chin and was dangling around his neck. The beard also didn't look like the snowy-white of a typical Santa Claus, but rather a stained yellow, rather repulsive looking piece of phony facial hair. The one genuine part of Des's costume was his belly, there was definitely no stuffing there, he'd earned every pound of it.
At Claire's arrival, the grubby looking store Santa squinted in her direction, licking his lips and eyeing up the beautiful young woman that had come to see him.
"Have you come to sit on my lap little girl?" asked Des with a chortle, his speech slightly slurred.
Claire baulked a little at the unsettling sight of the sad looking Santa Claus. It was definitely not what she had been expecting. "Um..Mr Bostok sent me," said Claire cautiously, briefly wondering if she should second think this job. "I'm the new Mrs Claus."
"Well, well, well," said Des, sitting up a little at this piece of news. He eyed up the busty redhead more attentively. She was a stunner. "Come in, come in," he clambered awkwardly up off his throne and gestured for her to come inside.
Claire stepped inside, wrinkling her pretty nose slightly at the smell of alcohol that assaulted her senses. She wondered how many children actually visited this grubby little grotto.
Des pulled the curtain closed behind her. "My name's Des Cox, I'm Santa Claus," he said, thrusting his hand out.
Claire apprehensively reached out and shook his grubby hand, worried she might catch something. "I'm Claire, Claire Bell."
"Welcome to the grotto Mrs Claus," Des said with a wide grin. Claire got a terrible whiff of booze from his breath. It was only ten thirty in the morning but he'd obviously had a few.
"Let's have a look at you then," said Des, holding her by the shoulders and pulling her towards the centre of the curtained room where the light was better. His gaze immediately dropped to her ample bosom, his eyes lighting up at the impressive sight. Claire was used to her big tits getting stared at, but the small dribble of saliva that ran from the very corner of Des's mouth was perhaps a touch too much.
"So what do I have to do?" asked Claire after almost a full minute of uncomfortable silence where Des stood frozen, gaping at her chest.
"Oh, right," he snapped out of it. "Well you'll need to dress the part." He turned and moved over to the side of the grotto and opened a large chest. Inside were what looked like a large number of old Christmas costumes, lots of red, green and white clothing. Des rummaged through the chest for a few minutes, before finally pulling out a small looking red dress.
"This should do the trick," he decided, handing it over to her.
Claire sceptically took the garment; it was about as old looking as Des's Santa suit but that wasn't really very surprising. It looked like the neckline had previously been framed by a white fur trim, although this was mostly fallen off and now only dangled from one shoulder of the dress.
"Try it on then," urged Des after a moment.
Claire glanced around the room but there was no where obvious for her to go and change.
"Should I go to one of the store's changing rooms?" asked Claire, remembering that the women's clothing section was on this floor.
"Um," Des frowned, thinking. "No you can't."
"What?" asked Claire in surprise.
"Well we can't have any kids spotting you outside the grotto," he explained. "It'd ruin the surprise."
"Oh right, that makes sense," agreed Claire. However that still left her with nowhere to get changed. She looked worriedly around the grotto. "I guess I'll get changed in here then?" she suggested, waiting for Des to offer to leave.
"Yeah, good thinking," said Des with an approving grin, his gaze roved hungrily over Claire's shapely figure.
"Okay then," Claire bit her lower lip, pausing meaningfully.
"Okay," agreed Des. "Start getting changed then."
"Right," Claire gave a sigh, deciding at last that she should try and make a good impression and just go ahead and get changed in front of him rather than make a fuss. She knew that men often were appreciative of her body so perhaps the show she would be giving Mr Cox might help her first day go well. And after all, she'd still be wearing her bra and panties so it wasn't like he was going to see her naked or anything.
Claire grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and tugged it up off over her head. Beneath she was wearing a pale, cream coloured satin bra that was patterned with pink rose designs. The bra hefted her expansive breasts upwards, wedging them into an impressively deep cleavage and making the mouth-watering orbs look absolutely magnificent. Actually, they would have been magnificent with or without the bra come to think of it.
"Holy shit!" murmured Des in awe at the sight of Claire's bra-clad tits. Claire's jugs were the biggest, nicest and youngest that the dirty old Santa Claus had ever laid eyes on.
"What's that?" asked Claire in surprise, the middle aged man sounded like he'd done himself an injury.
"Ah, nothing, carry on," advised Des.
Claire unbuttoned the front of her jeans and then peeled them down over the sexy swell of her hips, revealing her impossibly long, toned legs and a skimpy pair of satin g-string underwear that matched her bra. As she bent to place her folded jeans beside her discarded t-shirt Des was rewarded with a glorious view of her lovely round ass, the scanty strip of the back of her tiny g-string framing the perfect, taut spheres wondrously. It was all he could do to restrain himself from reaching out and grabbing Claire's faultless bottom in both hands and plunging his tongue between the delicious looking cheeks.
Claire picked up the red Mrs Claus dress and looking critically at the aged garment. The ripped fur neckline was too ruined to stay so she pulled it off completely leaving the plain red dress. It didn't look all that Christmassy anymore, but at least it was red she supposed.
Des swallowed as he stared in marvel at the gorgeous young woman, dressed only in the skimpiest of lingerie, standing right there in his grotto, only a few feet away from him. So close that if he wanted to, he could just reach out and touch her. He almost had to pinch himself to remember he wasn't dreaming.
Claire pulled the red dress on over her head. Putting it on, it seemed even smaller than it had appeared when Des had first handed it to her. It was a bit shorter than she was used to, barely falling down past her underwear, and barely concealing the cheeks of her ass. She would have to remember to be careful bending over.
"Can you zip me up please?" she asked Des, turning.
"O...okay," stammered Des. With her back turned he took the opportunity to scratch and adjust his crotch, swollen at the sight of Claire in her underwear.
The grimy Father Christmas took hold of the zipper on the back of Claire's dress and pulled it upwards, watching the strap on the back of her bra disappear as the dress closed up.
It was a little tight near the top, Claire's ample breasts more than filling the front of the dress. Des had to hold the base of the zipper, the back of his hand brushing the outthrust curve of Claire's arse as he finished zipping up her dress.
"It seems to be a good fit," said Des, regaining some of his confidence and stepping closer up behind Claire. He glanced down over Claire's shoulder, his eyes drawn into the depths of her amazing cleavage as he peered down the front of her dress. The swelling tops of Claire's generous breasts were lightly freckled and looked so soft and big that Des wished he could dive right into her cleavage.
"It's a little small," noted Claire. With the fur trimming removed the dress was extremely low cut, clearly even more revealing than the original design had intended. Claire jumped a little as she felt Des's hands slide around her hips from behind.
"I don't think it's too small," countered Des as his hands rubbed around the front of Claire's dress, feeling her flat stomach through the velvety red material.
Claire gasped as his hands slid up and cupped her big breasts through the dress. She was about to protest when she remembered that it was her that said the dress was too small. Claire winced as Des gave her tits a firm squeeze. She had to admit that it was around her breasts that the dress was the tightest so Des was probably just confirming the size and fit on the garment.
"No, it's the perfect size," muttered Des distractedly under his breath. His hands massaged Claire's huge boobs eagerly as he spoke, letting the ample melons overflow his groping palms.
Claire stood their for an awkward moment as Des felt her up, his hands running all over her hefty tits as he checked their size.
"I think the dress will be fine," Claire said at last, reaching up and prying his pawing hands off her bust.
Des seemed a little disappointed as he moved out from behind her. The overweight Santa Claus scratched his belly through his stained singlet as he stood in front of her and eyed up the beautiful young woman in her Mrs Claus costume.
His gaze rolled over Claire's expansive chest and he saw that the tops of her bra were showing above the low cut neckline.
"I can see your bra," he pointed out, stepping right in front of her.
Claire wrinkled her nose as she smelt the strong odour of alcohol on his breath. "You can barely see it," she said.
Des peered down into Claire's freckled cleavage, eyeing the large swells of the tops of her breasts that jutted up from the front of the dress. Des reached up and ran his fingertips over the bare upper half of Claire's tits, his fingers brushing the edge of her bra that was visible above the low neckline of her red dress.
"The bra will have to come off," he said as his finger traced the line of her considerable cleavage.
"Fine," conceded Claire, turning around. "Can you unzip me please?"
Des pulled down her zipper and she slipped out of the tight little red dress. Claire then reached behind her back and unfastened her bra, her heavy breasts swinging free as she dropped her bra to the floor.
"Holy mother!" gasped Des as he saw Claire's magnificent breasts finally uncovered. They were immense, perfectly round spheres that sat high on her chest and barely needed the support of her bra. Claire's firm melons were topped by delicious looking nipples that jutted out slightly in the cool air conditioned temperature of the department store.
Claire shyly wrapped one slim arm across her chest, covering her nipples as she reached for the dress once again.
"Wait a moment," said Des, once again stepped forward. "Let me check something."
Claire paused in bewilderment as Des pulled her arm away from her tits. He reached out with both hands and cupped and squeezed Claire's perfect, naked breasts. He gave a slight groan as he squeezed Claire's perfect norks and then pinched her hard nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
"What is it?" asked Claire with some concern, she wasn't sure what he was checking, but for some reason she was reminded of last Tuesday when the doctor had given her big tits a thorough inspection for lumps.
"Nothing," said Des as he finally let go of Claire's exposed breasts.
Claire was still a bit confused by the interruption, but shrugged and got dressed once again in the tiny little red dress. Without a bra the neckline came millimetres short of nipple exposure, all in all, it seemed perhaps a little too risqué for a Christmas display.
"So what's my job anyway?" asked Claire. Realising for the first time that she wasn't too sure what Mrs Claus actually did. After all, it was Santa that the kids were really coming to visit.
"Let me talk you through the process," suggest Des. "I'll be Santa, and you can pretend to be one of the kids coming to visit me."
"Okay," nodded Claire.
"Come and sit down on my lap then little girl," instructed Des, patting his crotch and grinning up at his gorgeous new partner.
"Okay Santa," replied Claire. She moved forward and daintily perched her posterior on the end of Des's knee. She noticed uncomfortably that the shortness of her dress meant that it was actually her uncovered, g-string clad bottom that was touching his leg.
"Whoa!" blurted Claire in surprise as Des suddenly grabbed her around the waist and pulled her further up on his lap. Her eyebrows rose in astonishment as she felt something hard in his lap jutting up against her perfect ass.
Des rested one hand on Claire's smooth, bare thigh and the other on the small of her back. "So what do you want for Christmas little girl?" he asked, giving her thigh a gentle squeeze.
"Um..." Claire's mind went suddenly blank. She hated getting asked difficult questions. "Oh!" she suddenly gasped as she felt Des's hand drop down from her back to slip up beneath the back of her dress and rest of her bare right buttock. Surely Santa didn't do that to the kids normally?
"Would you like a Barbie doll?" suggested Des as his hand stroked over the firm, smooth sphere of Claire's right ass-cheek.
"Ah, maybe?" Claire felt a little befuddled by the situation. She sucked in a surprised breath as Des squeezed her ass, then slid his hand over to stroke her other buttock. She could clearly feel his erect pressing insistently upwards against the underside of her thigh.
"Perhaps a pony?" proposed the dirty Santa Claus. Sitting on Des's lap had positioned Claire's expansive bosom right at his eye level and the horny man was making the most of it, eyeing up her remarkable cleavage lustfully.
"Maybe?" squeaked Claire uncertainly. While squeezing and kneading her firm arse with one hand, the hand on her thigh moved higher, slipping under the short hem of her red Mrs Claus dress.