Sex products saleswoman gives demonstrations.
NB: The following story has themes of non-consent sex, humiliation, abuse and other dark themes.
Enjoy reading..
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The Saleswoman
The only thing that saved Claire from being called a dumb blonde was that she had red hair. However there was little doubt that she wasn’t the sharpest knife in the cutlery drawer. Not that she didn’t have a certain instinctive cunning; more that she was known by all who knew her as exceptionally naive to the point of breathtaking gullibility.
Her boyfriend, Danny, despaired. Despite being a successful radio DJ, he knew he was more than lucky to have such a hot girlfriend. Apart from distinctive long auburn locks, she had a stunning figure — tall, slim and leggy but with enormous firm breasts and a perfect tight arse — as well as striking green eyes and delicate freckled features.
However Danny was constantly having to guard her against sexual advances from virtually every man who met her. He’d lost count of the number of times when, out for a night in the pub, he had returned from the lavatory to find Claire being chatted up by strangers.
He’d even had to chase away one man who had been fondling her exposed boobs, claiming he was a doctor who had had to give her an emergency breast check. When he asked Claire why she’d thought he was a doctor, she showed him a beer mat with some scrawled illegible writing on.
“See, he said doctors were famous for having awful writing and then he wrote down my name. And I definitely can’t read it,” she’d justified.
Luckily for Danny, Claire’s job as a receptionist for a local hair salon involved very little unsupervised contact with the opposite sex. All the hairdressers were female, as were the vast majority of customers, and the owner, a matronly woman in her 50s, always kept an eye out for anyone trying to trick Claire into over-familiarity.
Unfortunately, she herself was tricked by her less-than-honest accountant who embezzled enough funds to send the salon into financial ruin and it closed with all the employees losing their jobs.
Although Danny made enough of an income for Claire not to have to work, he’d realised that leaving her home all day wasn’t a great idea either when, luckily, he’d come home early to find the window cleaner with his hand up her skirt, fingering her pussy.
Claire had been indignant when Danny had attacked him and thrown him out.
“I can’t believe you did that! He’s a poor blind old man. He was just touching me so that he could recognise me in the future.”
However she hadn’t been able to respond coherently as to how a blind man could be a window cleaner nor why he had needed to feel her cunt and breasts rather than just her face.
“Oh, yeah, I hadn’t thought of that. Do you think he was just joking then?”
So Claire embarked on a job search which was also very stressful for Danny. Finding a role where her naivete wouldn’t be abused proved to be difficult.
In fact after an interview at a reputable bank, Danny was dismayed to hear that Claire had been invited back for a second interview.
“Isn’t it exciting,” she said, “The personnel woman didn’t really like me that much the manager took me aside afterwards and said I needed to go back at 6 o’clock tonight so that he could do a thorough physical in private and if I performed to standard I might be able to get a job!”
She didn’t really understand why Danny refused to let her return.
Eventually however, Claire did land a job that seemed relatively safe and also one at which she might excel.
Interestingly, the role involved organising lingerie parties for an Anne Summers type networking company called Funky Lady. The customer base was female as were the staff. Despite the racy nature of the products, Danny couldn’t really see how Claire could get herself into trouble. And the reality was that she loved pretty things, had great taste in clothes and would be a superb model for the underwear. It was this latter fact that had finally persuaded Danny, particularly as Claire had promised to give him a private viewing every night.
Claire for her part was really excited that she’d found a role which she could really enjoy. She thought that Danny was more than a little overprotective and even a bit prudish sometimes. She was a big girl and she could look after herself!
Which perhaps explained why she didn’t tell him about some of Funky Lady’s more adult products. They didn’t just sell mainstream lingerie but also some more specialised role play costumes such as naughty nurse outfits as well as a range of sex toys and accessories.
What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, she thought.
The night of her first party came quickly and it was a huge success. The party was held at a friend of a friend’s house and the 25 or so mostly middle-aged women reacted well to Claire’s open fun style. As the wine flowed more freely, Claire brought out some of the more interesting items which caused a lot of giggling and joking.
She got a lot of lingerie orders and also sold a few toys, creams and lubricants on the night. She also made several follow-up appointments with some ladies who maybe felt a little shy and didn’t want to buy anything in front of anyone else.
Later that week, she knocked on the door of a suburban house, ready for her final appointment of the week. She had with her two good-sized trolley-bags full of lingerie, in her own size, and a varied selection of accessories.
Fred had been reading the newspaper when he heard the knock. In his early fifties, Fred had taken early retirement from his job as a lorry driver the previous month. He was a relatively fit man for his age although his beer belly was a bit larger than it should have been and he was going rapidly bald. Miriam, his wife of 30 years was working a shift in the local supermarket and she wasn’t due back until that evening.
When he opened the door, he found himself looking at a goddess. She was in her early-twenties and was wearing a cream business suit made up of a fitted jacket and a mini-dress. Her legs were bare and her matching stiletto heels had tasteful strapping up over her ankles.
Her red hair shone in the sunlight and her green eyes were wide and inviting if a little vacant. Her figure was astonishing. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a woman with such long legs and also such large breasts in one perfect package.
“Oh, hello, I’m Claire from Funky Lady. I’ve got an appointment with Belinda Phillips?” Claire said, surprised that Belinda’s husband would be around. She’d thought that Belinda had wanted to make her purchases in privacy. After all, a lot of them would be for his benefit.
Fred had no idea who Belinda was. Perhaps it was because retirement had already become boring; or perhaps it was simply because he’d never before been in the presence of such a gorgeous young woman, but rather than admit his ignorance, he decided that it would more fun to just play along even if it resulted in just a few more minutes with her.
“Belinda? She’s just popped out but she won’t be long. Come in. Would you like a cup of tea?”
Fred helped Claire in with her bags and showed her into the living room.
“There you go. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll go and make a cuppa. Do you take sugar?”
Claire sat down and opened her first case while Fred made the tea. As he came back he allowed himself to peak around the corner, before entering the room.
She was sitting on a low sofa so that her legs were exposed to high up her thighs. And, unless he was going mad, she was holding up a bra. He saw that her case was full of lingerie and she had put some brochures on the coffee table. Funky Lady? Obviously this young woman had come to sell underwear to Belinda, whoever she was.
“Here we are, milk, no sugar,” he said as he sat down opposite her doing his best not to stare up her skirt.
“Thanks, Mr. Phillips,” Claire replied. “Do you know how long Belinda will be? I’m sure we agreed two o’clock.”
“Um, yes, that’s right. She said she’d be back by now. Let’s give it a minute and I’ll give her a call to see where she is.”
“OK.” Claire was a little surprised that Belinda, whom she recalled as being a slender elegant woman in her early-thirties, was married to such an unprepossessing and old-fashioned man but she knew that love could blossom between virtually anyone, no matter how poorly matched they might seem. She looked around at the kitsch decor and collection of porcelain cats and thought that Belinda had a lot better taste in clothes than in interior design.
Meanwhile, Fred had picked up one of the catalogues and was flicking through pictures of lovely young women in their underwear. He adjusted himself uncomfortably to conceal his growing erection.
“Do you like what you see?” Claire asked artlessly.
Too right I bloody do, thought Fred. Out loud, however, he said, “Um, yes there are some lovely items in here.”
After an awkward pause, Claire looked pointedly at her watch.
“Right. I’ll just give her a call to see how long she’ll be,” Fred said, leaving the room ostensibly to find a phone.
In the kitchen, he thought about his options. He could make up an excuse for Belinda’s absence and allow Claire to leave. Or he could somehow persuade her to stay for a bit longer. Maybe he was perverted, but he couldn’t deny that talking to a hot young lady about underwear was more than a little arousing.
After a couple of minutes he went back in.
“Claire, I’m so sorry but Belinda has been delayed. She sends her apologies but she won’t be able to make it back for ages.”