“What I mean is that you cannot bring me orgasm without me doing the same for you. As we did this morning.”
“Oh, so you want to lick my pussy?” Claire asked, still a little confused.
“I have an even more efficacious suggestion. Why don’t I lie back and you mount me? That way we could bring each other to a mutual orgasm thus fulfilling the needs of karma.”
“Erm. Well. OK. If that’s what your religion insists,” Claire replied bemusedly.
As Mr. Sharma pulled down his trousers and lay back on an impromptu bed of coats, Claire pulled her thong down over her legs, gave her pussy a quick rub to make sure it was wet and then sat down on top of him, impaling herself on his cock.
“Hmmm,” she sighed in pleasure as Mr. Sharma began to lick her nipples expertly. Although he wasn’t particularly well-endowed, he more than made up for it with his mouth.
“Oh, that’s really nice, Mr. Sharma,” she moaned as she began to grind back and forth, rubbing her clit on his wiry grey pubes as she rode him.
After a while Claire lost herself in bliss, unable to focus on anything more than the sensations flooding through her from her amazingly sensitive nipples and her hard aching clit.
For the second time that day, she came with brutal intensity, almost passing out in ecstasy. After she had caught her breath, she leaned forward and gave Mr. Sharma a deep tonguey kiss while he cupped and groped her flawless arse.
“Hmmm, thanks so much, Mr. Sharma. Would you like me to restore the cosmic balance now using my mouth?” she asked eventually.
“That would be most acceptable, Claire,” he agreed.
Claire enthusiastically licked and lapped Mr. Sharma’s cock clean of her own juices before bobbing her head up and down him once more.
He came quickly, once more squirting his fragrant sperm over her tongue and down her throat until he was spent.
Claire made sure he was completely clean with her skilful tongue before helping him up and getting dressed.
As they locked up, Mr. Sharma thanked Claire for her day’s work. “You really have been a wonderful companion today, Claire. I must thank you for your dedication to the cause and your sensitivity to my religious needs.”
“Oh, that’s OK, Mr. Sharma. I can’t say that it wasn’t fun.”
“Good. Well, Claire, I’ll see you in a couple of days. I have my day off tomorrow. Good night.”
“Good night, Mr. Sharma.”
That evening, when her boyfriend asked her how her day a the charity shop had been, she told him that it had been quiet but decided not to mention her pseudo-sexual encounters with Mr. Sharma. Even though all she had been doing was allowing him to practise his religion via the medium of her mouth and pussy, she realised that Danny might not quite understand the subtleties of why she had had both oral and fully penetrative sex with a man virtually old enough to be her grandfather.
The next day, to make sure she didn’t keep accidentally exposing her cunt and bum, Claire decided to wear a red dress which came all the way down to the middle of her thigh along with black hold-ups and black stiletto-heeled knee-high boots.
She was working with the absent-minded Elsie who was an elderly lady with white permed hair and an equally permanent smile. The day went well with Claire getting a lot done without the distraction of having to service Mr. Sharma’s erections or, indeed, the distraction of any customers.
Elsie had to leave a couple of hours before closing time to take her poodle to the vets and solemnly gave Claire responsibility for cashing up the till, setting the alarm and locking up. Claire was determined to do a professional and thorough job.
She was just sweeping the floor in the stock room when she heard the bell ring. A customer! she thought, excitedly. She rushed out to find the same spotty teenager who had popped in the day before.
She smiled reassuringly at him but her immediately blushed like a tomato and turned to leave.
“Oh, don’t go,” she said. “Please, it’s Peter isn’t it?”
He nodded and gave a grunt but stepped back into the shop. He was remarkably ugly, remarkably pale and remarkably skinny.
Claire decided to entice him with her wares. “You like books don’t you? We’ve got lots of new ones,” she said pointing at the bookshelves.
Peter eyed her suspiciously but walked in awkward crabbed way to the shelves to have a look at what was on offer.
Claire waited for a while but Peter was taking his time browsing the novels so she went back to sweeping the back room.
She came out a few minutes later but there was no sign of Peter at all apart from a pile of four books on the sales counter. She looked around the shop but she couldn’t see him.
Oh well, she thought to herself. He must have slipped out and I can’t have heard the bell. Maybe he’ll be back for the books.
She swept the floor in the shop itself for a few minutes, occasionally looking up because of the eerie feeling that she was being watched. Suddenly there was a crash at the back of the shop followed by a loud thud and a groan.
“Who’s there?” she said, eyes wide with fright. The only reply was another groan.
Holding the broom out in front of her, she tentatively crept to the ornaments section only to find Peter lying on the floor with the problematic former top shelf lying on his chest and half a dozen miraculously unbroken snow-globes strewn across him.
“Oh, no! Are you OK, Peter,” she said in concern, dropping the broom to kneel down next to him.
She pulled the shelf of him and divested him of associated knick-knacks before cradling his head which he had been rubbing. She pulled him close to her magnificent chest as she soothed him. “Oh, Peter. I’m sorry. I put that shelf back up myself yesterday. I’m really so sorry. Are you OK?”
Peter made some snuffling moaning noises and pushed his head firmly between her vast tits while she stroked his head tenderly.
“I’m OK,” he eventually managed to mumble out of her bosom. “It still hurts a lot but it does feel a lot better when you hug me,”
“Aw, you poor dear,” Claire cooed pulling him even closer and even letting him reach up to fondle her boobs a little.
They sat like this for a few minutes until Claire noticed an odd aroma.
“What’s that stink?” she said in a perplexed tone. “It smells just like unwashed…” She froze in revulsion as she looked down Peter’s body to find that his ugly pink erection was poking out of unzipped flies.
“Oh my god,” she swore. “Why is your cock sticking out of your trousers?” she asked relatively calmly considering the circumstances.
Peter sat up. “What? Is it? I didn’t realise.”