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.
