It was that time of year again, and it was getting to be a pain in the ass. I was doing what retailers call "loss control". That's corporate-speak for keeping people from stealing everything they can hide while they walk out of the store without paying. Working security is a fairly common thing PI's do to earn money during the Christmas season, and the stores really need the additional people. With so many shoppers in the store at any given time, their regular staff can't watch all of them, and there are always a few who practice the art of the "five finger discount".
The time of year wasn't the pain. The pain was the costume I was wearing and the pain wasn't in my ass. I was supposed to be an elf, you know, like one of Santa's helpers. Usually, I just walked around my designated area of the store in street clothes looking like I was shopping and watching everybody who really was. On Monday of that week, Beverly had called in sick. She and I were about the same height, so I drew costume duty until she came back. That meant I'd be walking around the toy department in her elf suit and watching the electronics department when I went around the end of a row of shelves.
The problem I was having was the way the elf suit fit. It was made for a woman, and no woman I've ever met has balls. Well, there was that one, but she was really a guy dressed as a woman so he could take some pictures in the women's dressing room at the local pool. No, I didn't find that out when I undressed her, I mean him. A woman who helps me out sometimes did that for me.
The guy was more than a little surprised when Gloria told him she liked women and thought he/she was hot. He was more than surprised when she grabbed his crotch and squeezed. Evidently she squeezed pretty hard because he fell down and started rolling on the floor. Gloria pulled up his dress and took a picture of him that included his face, his balls, and his cock. The cops who arrested him and found the little camera hidden in his padded bra thought it was hilarious. Gloria thought so too. She said his cock was really small, not big like mine...well, that's another story.
The elf costume was just tights, a long shirt, pointy-toed shoes, and a hat, and it was cut for a woman. The hat looked stupid as did the shoes, but the shirt wasn't too bad. It had this big gape in the chest that Beverly's big breasts filled out nicely and I didn't, but the other than that, it was OK. It was the tights that were the problem.
If I pulled them up all the way over my ass, my balls felt like they were in a vise. If I pulled them down to give my balls some room, the tights kept slipping down my ass. I got the problem solved a little by putting my balls down one leg and my cock down the other. The fit was still pretty tight, but it only hurt once in a while, like when some kid ran into me on his way to show Mommy the newest remote-controlled, complete with battle sounds and other aliens to shoot, alien robot warrior toy. That seemed to happen a lot.
At Christmas time, the toy section becomes the default baby-sitting service for a lot of moms. As a result, there were kids from six to sixteen running up and down the aisles. It was inevitable I'd get bumped by one of them, and when that happened, trying to keep my balance tightened the tights enough to make me want to double over. A few of the kids did it more than once. I think they thought it was funny watching the elf groan and try to stay upright.
At least it was Saturday. Beverly had called to say she'd be back to work on Sunday and I could to back to patrolling the aisles. I only had another week of that to go and thankfully, I was done until the next Christmas. I was especially thankful I didn't have to work the floor on the day after Christmas. All the stock would be marked down that day, and the store would turn into a war zone.
I'd seen it all before and it was scary. Little white-haired grandmothers would be elbowing their younger sisters out of the way to get to the last sweater on the rack or the last box of Christmas ornaments marked down sixty percent. Teen-age girls would roll their eyes and casually stroll by those things, but turn into a raging mob over the latest already-worn-out jeans or the T-shirts with sexy sayings printed on the front.
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I had to take a leak, so I walked back to the door that said "Employees Only" and into the break room. Taking a leak was no small undertaking because I had to pull down the tights. That also meant I had to take the shirt off because it came down over my ass and then some, so I ended up standing there in my T-shirt with the tights down to my knees. My bladder was screaming at me when I finally got to the men's john, got everything off and let fly.
I was standing at the urinal feeling really great when Jake walked into the restroom in his Santa suit. He nodded as he unbuttoned the long coat, then dropped the baggy red velvet pants, and stepped out of them. He chuckled when he stepped up to the urinal.
"Thought I was gonna piss my pants before it was time for my break. This cute little guy kept kicking me in the belly when his mom tried to sit him on my lap."
I chuckled.
"I'm glad it's you being Santa instead of me. I couldn't put up with what you have to."
"Ah, it's not so bad. Most of the kids are great, well the ones younger than five anyway. They're real serious when they tell me what they want, and they give me a hug when they leave. The older ones have it all figured out, so I don't get many of them."
Jake looked at me and grinned.
"Some of the mothers are damned hot though. This one, 'bout an hour ago, she had tits out to here and when she bent over to put her little girl on my lap her top fell open. Her bra was just that net stuff, and damn, her nips were huge. I bet her husband has a ball with 'em.
"There was another one, yesterday, wearin' a real short skirt. She squatted down to talk to her boy and flashed her panties at me. They were them black lace things Marjorie wears when she wants to turn me on. They didn't hide much. I could tell she was shaved. Had the biggest pussy lips I ever saw, and I see a lot of 'em when I play Santa.
"Then there were them sorority girls from the college, six of 'em. Wanted their pictures taken with Santa they said. Wanted to sit on my lap and everything."
Jake chuckled again.
"I'm pretty sure the last couple got more'n they bargained for. I can only take so many tight little asses on my knee and soft tits in my face before old Wilbur stands up and takes notice. The last two kinda giggled after they sat down."
I had a cup of coffee with Jake after we finished in the john, and then went back out on the floor. I'd put my balls and cock down the other side of the tights this time just to kind of even things out.
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On Sunday I was back in my jeans, T-Shirt, and ball cap, and walking innocently up and down the aisles of Men's Wear. I wasn't really watching Men's Wear as much as I was watching across the aisle and into Lingerie. Most guys who shoplift go after electronics or sporting goods, not clothes. Women seem to like stealing bras, panties, and stockings. I suppose that's because they're relatively small and easy to hide, and because women never seem to have enough of them. That's what Gloria told me anyway.
There was a reason I was watching from across the aisle. Most shoplifters won't take anything if there's another person in the aisle. Shoplifters aren't very smart sometimes, but they usually figure out that some of the people walking around are really store security. If I watched from Men's Wear, they'd figure I was just shopping and wouldn't give me a second thought.
Apparently that's what the woman looking at bras thought anyway. She picked up one, looked at it, and then poked one cup inside out so the cups fit one inside the other. She stuck the straps and band between the cups and then put it down. She picked up another, looked at it, and then folded it the same way and put it down on top of the first one. She had six stacked up that way when she stopped and looked around at the ceiling.
What she was looking for was the location of the security cameras. The security cameras are in plain view so there's no question the shoppers are being watched. She was just checking to see if there was a blind spot close by. There are always a few caused by the displays, and that's why there are people on the floor as well.
The woman picked up the bras and walked a few feet down the aisle and then dropped them on the floor. She knew the security cameras probably couldn't see her as she bent over and set her huge purse on the floor. It took her all of five seconds to pick up the bras, dump them into the purse, and then stand back up. I thought she'd gotten them all, but then she walked back with two, straightened them out, and put them back on the rack. I suppose she thought that would look like she'd just changed her mind.
I keyed the radio hidden in my pocket.
"Hey Sandy, the woman in bras wearing jeans and a red coat, see her?"
"Uh...yeah, got her."
