I have a maid service that comes in once a week. I found that the firm I have been using was been getting sloppy. The maid wouldn't come at the time advised, the work was rather slap-dash and their prices were being jacked up. So I went looking for a new service. Found one that seemed OK and engaged them to come on a Friday morning for a tryout.
I was on the internet, looking at some old Playboy cartoons on one of the forums I attend, when the maid showed up. She was an attractive young woman in her early twenties, but I wasn't too impressed with her manner of dress. It just seemed sort of inappropriate to show up at a customer's place for maid service in skimpy shorts and a skimpy top. When I said I wanted maid service I did mean maid service.
I invited her in, introducing myself and being informed that she was Trudi. Trudi wanted to make one thing clear, right from the start.
"I don't do windows," she informed. "It's company policy that the maids don't have to clean windows. If you want your windows done you have to contact a window cleaning company. I can refer you to a couple if you decide to."
I couldn't help it. I started laughing. Trudi looked a bit put out.
"What's so funny?" she asked. "We have to give that speech to new customers. We don't do windows and we have to tell them."
"Yes, I can understand that. I suspect that different insurance rates apply if you clean windows and the insurance can be a killer. That's not why I was laughing. It's just that what you said matched up with an old carton I just saw on the 'net. If you have a sense of humour I'll show you."
I've never met anyone who didn't think they had a sense of humour. People tend to feel insulted if you imply they don't have one. The cartoon I was referring to was a picture of a maid and her employer. The maid was naked bar a skimpy little apron that nearly covered her charms. It certainly didn't cover her breasts. The employer was saying something along the line of 'You don't do windows? That's OK. I'm prepared to make allowances.'
It had been the last cartoon I'd seen when Trudi knocked and it was still on the screen. I indicated that Trudi should look at it. She looked, blushed a little, and giggled.
"Ah, yes, well I'd better get on with my work," she said.
She started getting her things organised while I sat back and fought temptation. I have to admit, I didn't fight too hard. Trudi was a fetching young thing.
"Trudi," I said, "don't be offended but I'd love to see you cleaning as per the maid in the cartoon. What say a fifty dollar tip to clean topless? That's a private tip between us and not on the company books."
What with taxes and the split she had to give the company, fifty extra would be useful. Trudi looked indignant, an automatic refusal on her lips. Then she paused, and sighed.
"I couldn't," she muttered. "I just couldn't. I'd be so embarrassed."
"Why?" I asked. "I'd have thought you had a fine pair of breasts. Why would they embarrass you?"
"I do have," she said, and this time the indignation showed. "I mean that I'd be embarrassed taking off my top in front of a strange man. I just don't do that sort of thing."
"You wear a bikini at the beach, don't you?" I pointed out. "Going topless or wearing a tiny little bikini at the beach. Not much difference really. And fifty is fifty."
I could see she was chewing it over. It was just her breasts, after all, and I had no doubt that men were always looking down her top to see them. I could see her wondering what difference would it make if she took her top off.
"Um, you wouldn't go and, ah, I mean, would you, er."
"If you're trying to ask if I'd try to grab them, the answer is no," I said, smiling. "It's just that I appreciate nice things and your breasts would certainly qualify."
While she was thinking that over I took a fifty out of my wallet, holding it so she could see it. She glared at me, shrugged, and slipped off her top and bra. I passed over the money, letting her see my sincere admiration. And it was sincere. She had a lovely pair, and they stood out firmly, not yet feeling the tug of gravity.
I reached in my wallet and took out another fifty.
Trudi looked puzzled for a moment, and then slightly shocked as she guessed what it meant.
"Oh, I couldn't," she said in a small voice. "I simply couldn't."
"Why not?" I asked coaxingly. "You've already taken your top off. It's not that much different. And you have to admit, a tax free hundred is twice as good as a tax free fifty."
"I've never just walked around naked in front of anyone," she muttered.
"Then you should do it just so you know what it feels like," I explained. "It'll be a new experience for you. You may even find you like it."
A ridiculous reason for stripping, but hey, whatever works.
Now that Trudi had a logical reason, apart from money, she went ahead and did it. I have to admit, I was surprised. I hadn't really thought she would. I'd thought topless would be the most I could hope for, and I hadn't exactly had high hopes for that. I wasn't going to knock it though. I handed over the second fifty like a lamb, enjoying the view. I was even polite enough not to mention that she shaved. I'd read that women who regularly shave like to have sex.
It might have been a new experience for Trudi but that didn't stop her enjoying it to the fullest. Her nipples, I'd been pleased to note, had peaked even while she was still pulling down her panties. Now she was practically strutting around my unit, showing off her wares.
It seemed that where, previously, I would have expected her to crouch down to do something, it now became necessary for her to bend at the hips. If she was sideways to me I would see her breasts swaying gracefully beneath as she leaned over. If I was behind her, she would bend at the waist, legs parted to give her a proper balance. Pure coincidence that she was showing all that she had.
Oddly enough, when facing me she never seemed to have cause to bend over. Instead she would stand tall, shoulders back, and her arms of to the sides, busy doing something that wouldn't block my view.
For all the performance she was a very efficient housekeeper, getting everything cleaned and wiped down very smartly. That was why I was a little startled when a vase was knocked off the mantelpiece and broken.
"Oh my god," she wailed, "I'm so sorry. I'll replace it. I don't know how that could have happened."
Probably because you were taking greater care to flaunt your figure at me than watching what you were doing and that, of course, was entirely my fault.
"Replace it?" I said, sounding shocked. "That's a Ming Dynasty, worth three million. Or at least, it was."
Trudi went so white I thought she was going to faint. I laughed.
"Nah. It's just a cheap thing I bought at a garage sale when I wanted something for some flowers. A couple of buck was all it cost. Forget the damages."
Trudi was relieved but still profusely apologetic, regretting her clumsiness and offering to pay for the vase or to buy me another.
"Forget it," I repeated. "It really was just a cheap thing I bought one day when I needed something other than a glass jar. My sister waxed sarcastic when she saw I had flowers in a glass jar. I'll just paddle your bottom to teach you to be a little more careful and we'll let it go at that. OK?"
"OK," Trudi agreed, sounding relieved. Then her mind caught up with what I'd said. "Wait. What did you say?"
"Just that I'd give you a quick spanking, and we'd let it go."
She was shaking her head now, quite determinedly.
