That evening Hugh sat in the kitchen dining on chicken and rice. The maid, who was named Claudia, sat opposite him. The two top buttons of her uniform were open and as she bent forward over her plate he could see the form of her breasts, round, milky white.
"My uniform fits perfectly," he said in an effort to draw the girl into conversation.
"Lucky for you it does."
"Why do you say that?"
Claudia pushed her plate away, reached for a package of cigarettes and stood up. "Because we are leaving here tomorrow and there would be no time for alterations."
"Where are we going?"
"Who knows? Tomorrow morning Mr. Maurier will let us know." She rested her full-fleshed behind against the sink. With her arms crossed over her breasts and the cigarette dangling from one corner of her wide, unrouged mouth she looked down at him. "Tell me, are you a straight man or what?"
He put down his fork and reached for his wine. The question did not surprise him because he had been expecting it. Undoubtedly any man who did not grab at her ass was queer in her estimation.
"How do you know you are not my type?"
"I am every normal man's type. With the body I have! Pah!"
He went on drinking. What a conceited bitch! The girl he'd had this afternoon was just as shapely. All right, this one had larger breasts, but so what?
Claudia said: "We have had quite a few chauffeurs; most of them were fairies."
"Did they get fired because they neglected to show you any attention?"
"No, not at all. You know how it is. Some lads crack up the car or have fights with the boss or steal things from him." She looked him straight in the eye. "You did not answer me. How about it, are you queer?"
"Take me to your room later on and you can find out for yourself."
Claudia snorted and unfolded her arms to cup her breasts. "These things are beautiful. If we ever do make love you'll see for yourself. Once they won me first prize in a beauty contest."
She began to massage the breasts she was so proud of, moving her palms over the globe-like mass them. "That bastard in. the garage, that mechanic knows what they are like. It's true, he did have me twice."
Hugh sneered. "I can hardly wait my turn. I took this job because of you."
"Tell me another joke."
"Where are you from, Claudia?"
"Down the lower part of Italy, near the Adriatic. Foggia. Why?"
"You're beautiful."
"Don't flatter me, friend, because I have nothing to give you. At least not so soon."
"No, I mean it, you're beautiful… and you've got a mad body. But if you did win a beauty contest what in hell are you doing here working as a maid?"
"None of your business."
"Maybe you are as weird as that mechanic says Maurier is. How about it, girlie, what are Maurier's sex habits like?"
She smiled, showing a dazzling set of teeth. "That, my friend is for me to know and you to find out."
Claudia leaned forward, the action straining the fabric of her maid's costume almost to bursting point. Hugh was amazed by the rotundity of her breasts with the nipples penetrating almost haughtily.
"One thing, you don't have to wear brassiere."
The smile remained on her face while she began to clear the plates from the table. "How come you don't do something else down here, gigolo off the rich old women for example? You are as good looking as those lads here making a living from it."
"No, it's not a real man's game." He watched her as she stood before the sink, washing the dishes.
Her skirt, black and straight-fitting, left nothing to the imagination. It revealed a pair of buttocks of womanly width and roundness. And each time she leaned over the sink he saw the line of her panties and the white, luscious flesh of her long thighs.
"Don't just sit there looking, talk." She turned to gather the rest of the kitchen utensils and her generous breasts went quivering like two balls floating on a moving stream.
"Now it's easy to understand."
Claudia looked at him, a puzzled expression on her pretty face. "Understand what?"
"How those breasts won you first prize in a beauty contest."
She smiled. "Maybe I will be good to you, just one time."
Hugh rose and reached for her, but she avoided his grasp. "Why not?"
"No, not now."
"Then when?"
"Later. Later, when the boss is asleep."
Hugh's hands opened and closed as the desire, satisfied early that afternoon, gathered force and charged through his body. No matter what she thought of him he was going to take this big redheaded girl to bed. He was going to take her and satisfy her in such a way as to leave her gasping.
The entire apartment was quiet, the only sound that of alley cats prowling in the garden. Hugh sat in the small room assigned him and considered his lot in life. On a closet door directly before him hung the chauffeur's uniform that he would soon be wearing. It was a musical comedy costume, straight out of a Lehar operetta with epaulettes, brass buttons, pleated pockets and a leather belt.
All that was needed, he reflected, was a silver mounted revolver and holster and a couple of medals. Just as he decided to ready himself for bed came the knock on the door. Frowning, he opened it and found Claudia standing out there in the darkness. Well now, he did expect her to visit, but not so soon.
"May I come in?" she whispered.
Hugh, noting that she carried a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, nodded, admitting her. She set the bottle on the small night table, making room by moving the lamp to one side.
"Good stuff we are going to drink." He studied the label, seeing that it was twenty-one-year-old Ballantine's scotch.
"If the best is good enough for the boss, then it ought to be for us. No?"
"No argument from me, girlie."
She poured generous amounts into both glasses and handed his over. "Cheers."
It went down.smoothly but too quickly, bringing tears to his eyes, but Claudia swallowed her whiskey without flinching. "You know how to handle it, don't you?"
"'I should. I have worked often as a bar maid and in those places the customers always offer free drinks. I used to be drunk all the time, but after a while I got used to it."
She sat on the bed, leaving him to lean against the wall with a refilled glass while she began to tell him about her past.
Hugh saw no necessity for this and told her so. "I take people as they are, always from the present time. Your past is your business."
"It will help to explain the type of household you have taken employment in."
He shrugged, knowing that some people always have to have a good listener around. "Okay, go ahead."
Claudia was really a beautiful girl. She had long reddish hair that, when undone, flowed past her shoulders all the way down to the sculptured hips. Her eyes were hazel in color and slanted, her nose tilted and her mouth generous, the full lips a natural red. Her movements were always graceful and she knew how to dress well without displaying any of the vulgarity of coarse mannerisms of most low-class girls who made their way in life as house-maids.
On her days off Claudia would don silk dresses, wear earrings with false diamonds and smoke black Sobranie cigarettes through a delicately carved holder in the hope of creating an air of sophistication. But few people were taken in by this act.
Less than three months before Claudia had won first price in a beauty contest in her native village of Foggla. The judges and the audience had agreed that her face and figure were faultless. At one meter seventy-five she was perhaps too tall, but her carriage was splendid, her walk excellent, and her body amazing.
Some of the other contestants screamed at the decision. The judges put it down to pure envy and stood by their verdict. Claudia's buttocks were well-matched, they stated, and shapelier than country pears. Besides, the other breasts they had viewed fell, even if slightly, while hers thrust straight out.
Claudia knew that a body like hers had no place in Foggia. The next morning she said goodbye to her family and departed for Rome, a city where she would be thoroughly appreciated.
A little later she discovered to her shock that Rome was filled with girls of spectacular proportions. Her body was duplicated a dozen times along any street in that city.
When she was almost on the edge of starvation she took a job as a waitress in a dump on the Via Margutta. It was either that or taking to the streets. The latter was something Claudia wanted to postpone as long as possible.
One day as she stood behind the bar of the cafй a tall, slender and aristocratic foreigner entered. Almost immediately he began to pay attention to her and Claudia developed ideas. She had glimpsed the long black Mercedes Benz parked outside and sensed that the owner had more than his share of money.
The aristocratic man ordered scotch and stared at her as he drank. Claudia was somewhat apprehensive because the boss of the cafй, a fat, rough-faced man of sixty had advised her to pay a visit to the storeroom when the place closed. He wanted a chance at her body and Claudia, nervous because of the oncoming situation, worked with one eye on the clock and the other on the customers.
Well, she had mused, the boss has been after me ever since I was hired. She shrugged and looked down at her breasts. All those two things had done for her was to win her a chromium-plated statuette and get her into trouble. Not one man among all those she met in Rome could keep his hands off them. Worse, of the men she had gone with not one was an honest fellow. They were all liars who promised her roles m non-existent films. For instance the boy who had taken her virginity was too young to even sweep the floor of a film studio, much less produce a film, and yet she had fallen for his tale.
Someone yelled for a coffee and Claudia went over to the gleaming Gaggia machine. She adjusted the wooden knob, yanked on the lever and listened to the huge mechanism hiss and spurt.
The foreigner was eyeing her and when he beckoned Claudia asked if he wished another scotch. "No," he spoke rapidly. "My name is Maurier and in a few minutes I intend to drive out of Italy up to France, to the Riviera, to be exact, where I reside. You are far too beautiful to be working in a place of this sort."
"Ah hah, another film producer."
"Wrong. A successful businessman, and there is place for you in my employ."
Claudia's heart had leaped. "How much time do I have to decide?"
Maurier glanced at his gold wrist watch. "Five minutes. No more, no less."
Fat Alberto, the boss who yearned to sleep with her had yelled: "Claudia, you lazy thing. I am waiting for that order and not standing here to watch you flirt with foreign customers."
Claudia filled two small cups with espresso and placed them before Alberto. "You can go to hell with my permission."
"Bastal Enough, before I forget myself. Cosa che? What is the matter with you? Make sure you are m the storeroom promptly tonight. And when I come to you let there be fire in your heart and warmth in your loins."
"Figilo di putana!' Claudia rolled her apron into a bundle, tossed it on a shelf, screwed a fresh Sobranie into her cigarette holder and strutted out from behind the bar.
Maurier led her before the surprised ex-employer out to his car. That night, in a swank hotel far up on the Italian Riviera Claudia undressed and waited for her new man to come to her.
Just when she was on the verge of falling asleep Maurier, completely nude, left the bathroom and entered the darkened bedroom. He seated himself on the edge of the bed and slid a hand between the girl's well-rounded thighs. She shifted and opened her long legs, showing him the furry bush carpeting her femaleness. Maurier moved his hand up to play with her breasts instead.
Moonlight seeped into the room, gleaming on the lush body. Claudia, in a state of heat, squirmed and moaned as Maurier's hands worked her rounded, well-developed breasts. "Come into me, now, now," she had whispered. "I never thought I could be so on fire."
Fluid leaked out of her boiling hot opening and her breath was ragged. Still the man delayed taking her. He had, in fact, avoided her as she offered the warm, extremely exciting body.
She begged him while twisting over the bed, sending her hips into swelling curves, rounding out the contours of her miraculous body. But when he fell upon her in a savage embrace, Claudia cried out. The man was built like a donkey!
"Aiiiieeeeeee!"
"Ahhh, yes, ahhh, my beauty, ahhh, my sweet, ahhh, my prizewinner!"
Claudia forgot the size of the instrument penetrating her and responded like an animal in heat, fitting herself to Maurier, rising up to meet his downward thrusts, keeping every part of her strong body in motion.
She came, again, and again, and again, until after what must have been the twentieth orgasm she lay back, not only exhausted but about to faint.
The past now receded and the present returned.
Hugh, drinking his whiskey thought any man who could make a dish like Claudia come twenty times without climaxing himself had the durability of a statue and should be envied.
Claudia searched within the voluminous pockets of her robe and brought out a rubber instrument. "Here, this is how he made me pop off twenty times."
"A false penis! A rubber dildo!"
"Exactly. I hope I shall get the real thing from you."
"Is he impotent or what?"
"Too small. He shoves the little that nature gifted him with into this thing. He possesses many dildos, all different shapes." She got up, tossed down the remains of her whiskey. "I shall leave the bottle with you. Sweet dreams."
"Hey, wait!" He reached for her, gaining a fast feel of the fabulous breasts and making a swift sweat pass over the bursting ass. She kissed him hotly, allowed him to tweak the nipples of her breast and open her robe.
Hugh, encountering hot nakedness was immediately, excited. He dipped lower, trying to shove her strong legs apart and bring his penis up into her bush-covered slit. He had barely gotten it in when the girl gave a wrench of her ass.
"Later." She was gone, blending into the darkness of the empty hallway.
"Shit!"