Claire gave a deep sigh as she took a sip from her wine glass and half-heartedly watched the soap that was playing on the television with ever increasing boredom. She felt a tad guilty having a wine at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, but damn it, she was bored to tears!
"Unemployment sucks!" the lovely young redhead grumbled morosely. It had been almost three weeks since she'd had a job, and her record prior to that had been somewhat sketchy as well, jumping from job to job almost constantly, and most of them lasting only a few days. Her CV was a wreck and she was beginning to wonder if she'd ever get a stable job.
It didn't help that Danny, her overprotective boyfriend, kept refusing to let her go to interviews. Just last week she'd had a fantastic telephone interview with a kind old businessman who was looking for a pole polisher. She had even emailed him a photo of herself at his request (topless). But when she'd told Danny the good news, he'd outright refused to let her go. It just wasn't fair!
Claire's dejected musings were interrupted by the sound of her doorbell ringing. Surprised, the buxom redhead went to answer the door, by habit checking her reflection in the hallway mirror. She was dressed down for a day around the house, wearing a pair of figure hugging blue jeans that made her firm, round arse look fantastic, and a tight fitting white t-shirt that clung to her remarkable bosom. Her long auburn locks were tied back in a casual ponytail and despite her lack of makeup she still looked stunning.
Claire answered the door and was surprised to see a man waiting on the doorstep with two oversized trolley bags.
"Fred?" she murmured in astonishment, squinting at the familiar man. "Fred Phillips?"
Claire had met Fred when she'd been employed as a saleswoman for the Funky Lady home sales company. The company sold women's lingerie and a few rather risquΓ© adult gift products, and it had been Fred, or rather Fred's wife that had got her fired.
"Claire!" said Fred with obvious delight, "I've finally found...err, I mean what a surprise?"
Claire frowned at the middle aged man. Fred was in his early fifties and was a little overweight, with a substantial beer belly. He was dressed in a rather cheap looking brown suit, and his bald forehead was slick with sweat as if he'd been running or something.
"What are you doing here Mr Phillips?" asked Claire in confusion.
Fred's wife had walked in on her and Fred while she was demonstrating some of Funky Lady's more exotic products to the older man. His wife had got the wrong idea and chased Claire out of the house and complained to Funky Lady management, resulting in Claire losing her job. The lovely young redhead hadn't expected to see Fred ever again, let alone on her front doorstep.
"Please, call me Fred," he replied, grinning widely, revealing his crooked, slightly discoloured teeth. "I'm from Funky Lady and I'd like to show you some of our fine products."
Claire's frown deepened. "You work for Funky Lady?" She was more confused than ever now. How could he be working for Funky Lady?
"Err, yes," replied Fred. "I, um, well I got the job pretty recently. I remember you did such a great job selling to me that I was inspired to give it a go myself."
"Oh," replied Claire in surprise. She was a little flattered that she'd inspired the short old man, but really? Someone like him selling lingerie?
"I, err, realise that you've probably seen the range before, but maybe I could come in and show you through it anyway?" suggested Fred hopefully. "I'm new to all this, and it would be great practise for me, even if you don't buy anything."
"Ah..." Claire hesitated a moment. She was still a bit bewildered by the situation and the way she and Fred had appeared to have traded places. It was throwing her for a loop. Fred did look pretty worn out from walking around town with those big cases though, and she knew first-hand what it was like dragging them all around the place. The poor guy.
"Please," begged Fred. "I haven't had a lot of luck so far. For old times sake?" He looked a little like a lost puppy-dog.
Claire sighed. "Okay, sure, I guess there's no harm," agreed the soft-hearted beauty, not wanting to disappoint the obviously struggling new salesman.
"So I guess the shoe is on the other foot now eh?" joked Fred with a chuckle as Claire led him inside into her lounge.
"Huh?" asked Claire, not familiar with the phrase.
"I mean it's kinda funny how we've switched places and I'm now selling to you." As they walked, Fred admired the way Claire's jeans clung snugly to her lovely round bum.
"Oh, yeah," agreed Claire. "So how did you find me?"
Fred shrugged. "It's just a happy coincidence I knocked on your door."
"Oh, right," nodded Claire.
Fred was fussing around with his suitcases, bent over as he got himself organised. Claire wrinkled her nose a little as she saw that the back of his suit pants was quite low, showing a rather unappealing glimpse of his hairy butt crack.
"So can you pretend you're not familiar with the Funky Lady products?" asked Fred. "It'll help me out and be better practise that way."
"Sure," replied Claire agreeably, perhaps this could be fun.
"This is the first time anyone's actually let me inside their house," admitted Fred as he straightened up. He was holding a lacy white bra in one hand and a matching pair of g-string panties in the other.
Claire wasn't too surprised at the rather unattractive salesman's lack of success. "I didn't even know that Funky Lady hired men," she told him. "It's a little, ah, unusual."
"Mmm," Fred nodded in agreement. "I have to adapt the usual pitch somewhat. I don't think I'd quite look as good as you did modelling this stuff."
Claire smiled at his joke, unable to stop herself from mentally picturing the old fellow wearing women's underwear. It wasn't a pretty sight.
"Right then," said Fred, taking a deep breath and holding up the bra and panties. "Let's start with these."
"Wait," said Claire. "Shouldn't you give me a catalogue first?" she asked, remembering the short time she'd spent working for Funky Lady.
"Er, right, catalogue," Fred glanced nervously down at his suitcases. "Um, unfortunately the catalogues are on backorder so I don't have any right now."
"Oh, okay," said Claire in surprise.
Fred handed the underwear he was holding to Claire. "Try these on," he instructed.
Claire frowned in surprise at the rather skimpy looking lace garment's he'd handed to her. "Ahh..." she stammered hesitantly. "I don't know if..."
"Well I can't really model them for you, now can I?" interrupted Fred.
"No, I guess not," agreed Claire reluctantly. "But I'm not sure I want to buy anything right now."
"No, no," Fred quickly waved away her protests. "Remember this is just for practise. You don't have to buy anything, Claire. Just letting me practise my sales pitch is doing me a huge favour."