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.
