Claire had decided that the usual uniform of the charity shop wasn’t for her. She was an attractive young woman with long auburn hair, green eyes, freckled pale skin and a tall full-busted leggy figure that made her boyfriend and, indeed, many other men drool with desire. She felt that a muted cardigan or a fusty old dress just wouldn’t suit her so, in addition to her aforementioned white mini-skirt and green underwear, she had worn white platform-heeled boots and a tight stretchy green-and-white-checked v-necked top that made extraordinary geometric patterns over her enormous yet firm boobs.
Danny had said that her outfit would be too much for a charity shop but when she’d come in Mr. Sharma had been very complimentary about her appearance.
They’d spent the morning unhurriedly putting the previous day’s donations onto shelves whilst Mr. Sharma explained the various workings of the shop.
When Claire commented on the fact they’d not had any customers, he explained that they were generally very quiet during the week apart from around lunchtime when maybe one or two customers would come in.
“But the important thing is that we are doing our best for both fluffy and furry pets,” Mr. Sharma said solemnly at which Claire smiled warmly. What a lovely old man, she thought.
They chatted inconsequentially as they continued to process contributions, Claire confessing her frustration that she hadn’t been able to hold down a job and how much more fulfilling doing charity work felt.
Mr. Sharma explained that he himself had volunteered as a consequence of following the ancient creed of Effulgent Zoroastrianism. “The central tenets of my religion involve generating the greatest net benefit to both humanity and the universe as a whole; in short, I must live my life maximising the pleasure of others (both animal and human) and minimising their pain.”
Although Claire didn’t fully understand some of the more abstruse elements of Mr. Sharma’s philosophical position, she had to agree that, generally, it sounded like a good thing. Mr. Sharma himself came across as very thoughtful and gallant, supervising Claire’s work intimately and always willing to offer his hand to her as she climbed up and down the steps.
By the afternoon, the skies had turned ominously dismal and so Claire was unsurprised when it started to rain heavily.
“Oh dear,” Claire sighed. “It looks as if we’re not going to have many more customers today.”
“Let us take this opportunity to sort through the vases and curios. They really are enormously disordered and dusty,” Mr. Sharma suggested in his cultured sub-continental accent.
The ornaments were on some rickety old shelves right at the back of the shop wedged into a space between the kitchen implements and ball gowns.
Once again, Claire climbed up the stepladder which unfortunately couldn’t be brought as close to the fixture as she’d have liked because of the narrowness of the gap. Instead she reached out her impractically-shod right foot onto one of the lower shelves so that her legs were splayed across the aisle, one on the shelf, the other on the ladder.
Ms. Sharma stood on a low stool in front of her as she slowly passed down various pieces of bric-a-brac to him. She was even more acutely aware that, in this awkward and exposed position with her legs stretched wide apart, he couldn’t have helped have noticed her pink pussy lips which were bulging plumply around the narrow gusset of her g-string, only inches from his face.
Suddenly, as Claire picked up two delicate porcelain vases, the now-empty top shelf, which quite possibly until now hadn’t been touched in years, collapsed noisily, luckily falling outwards without taking down the ornaments below it.
As Claire shouted out in concern for Mr. Sharma below her, Mr. Sharma himself reached out around Claire to grab her bottom in an effort to stop her from falling, accidentally pulling her crotch towards him so that her gusset pulled to one side and her juicy pussy rubbed wetly over his face.
“Oh! Mr. Sharma!” Claire exclaimed in surprise, her cunt lips now fully exposed to his gaze.
When the dust had settled, Claire was still precariously balanced between the ladder and the shelf, holding a fragile vase in each hand with nowhere to put them. Mr. Sharma was standing on a stool, his hands tightly squeezing Claire’s delicious bum and his nose buried in Claire’s exposed damp pussy.
“Mr. Sharma, please will you take these vases. You can let go now. I won’t fall. I just can’t get down holding these,” she said, desperately embarrassed at the situation. “Mr Sharma?” Claire added in concern at his lack of response.
After a pause, Mr Sharma finally replied. “Claire you leave me in a very difficult position. You know my religion insists that I must take all opportunity to maximise the pleasure of others. I am now in a situation where I would quite easily be able to give an inordinate amount of pleasure to you. If I take the vases from you then you will be able to descend the ladder and the prospect will pass. I feel that I have no choice but to…”
Claire gasped as Mr. Sharma deliberately licked her pussy up and then down.
“Oooh! Mr. Sharma!” she squeaked in shock. But then he began to gently flick her rapidly stiffening clit with his tongue in a purposeful and exquisite manner causing her to gasp in sudden pleasure. “Oh, Mr. Sharma,” she groaned as he brought his right hand around to slowly insert his middle finger into her tight hot pussy.
For the next ten minutes, Mr. Sharma licked Claire’s pussy as it had never been licked before. His technique varied from the subtle to the vigorous but his tongue, lips and fingers seemed to touch her in exactly the right way with exactly the right force at exactly the right time, exciting her more and more with every nibble, slurp and twitch.
At first she worried about being caught by a customer but very quickly she reasoned that they couldn’t be seen from outside, that it was unlikely that there would be any customers anyway and that, in any case, the bell on the door would alert them if anyone did come in.
Instead, rather wickedly, she did her utmost to bring herself to orgasm under Mr. Sharma’s expert ministrations although he seemed to be purposefully bringing her to the brink of climax before taking her back down again repeatedly until she was desperate for release.
When she finally came, after a good twenty minutes of intense pussy licking, her orgasm was explosive and prolonged.
“Oh, fuck yes, Mr. Sharma!” she screamed in pleasure as she ground her pussy into his upturned face, dropping both of her carefully protected vases.
Mr. Sharma casually reached out to catch them, one in each hand, and place them carefully on a lower shelf before stepping down off the stool.
Claire stepped over and hugged the step-ladder until she’d stopped shuddering blissfully.
“Oh, wow, Mr. Sharma. That was amazing!” she said eventually in wonder. “Where did you learn to do that?” Before he could answer though, a wave of guilt hit her. “Oh, no! That was really naughty, Mr. Sharma. You shouldn’t have!”
Mr. Sharma inclined his head to her serenely. “Claire, I realise that I have taken an intimate liberty with your most excellent body but I once you had so kindly presented me with your exquisite and bare vagina, I felt compelled to provide you with the most intense pleasure that I was able to impart. To do anything else would be against my religion.”
“Oh, well. I suppose that’s different. It’s my own fault really for wearing such a short skirt,” Claire conceded gratefully, trying to put the whole matter behind her.
“No, I have to say it is really most pleasant to be able to look at such an attractive young woman,” he answered gracefully.
Claire blushed at his compliment. She came down off the ladder and knelt down to pick the fallen shelf up.
As she did son, she looked up and was shaken to see an unmistakable bulge in Mr. Sharma’s trousers.
“Mr. Sharma!” she exclaimed in horror. “You’ve got a…, you know!”