Eileen Over - Eager To Bed Bunny

He knew the agency, located in a side street, squeezed in among boutiques and real estate offices. In might be a chance. But-he could not present himself like this, wearing just wrinkled trousers and borrowed shoes.

The stores were not open yet, so he could not purchase decent clothing, but not far off was an open air market where just about any- and everything was sold in stalls.

As the two women sauntered off, the younger one flinging her rump to the winds, the waiter whistled. "To have that for one night, eh?"

"I'd say a week with a woman like that would not be sufficient."

"She runs a travel place not far from here, that woman."

"So I gathered."

"Wild in bed I bet, when they are slim like that." The waiter felt inclined to chat. "You hear about the orgy last night? Rich people. Terrible sex practices and the bulls had to move in."

Hugh refrained from saying he was a guest. At any rate, looking so poverty-stricken as he did, the waiter would not believe him.

"Types like you and me, poor boys, we are satisfied with one woman when we are hot. Eh? Those rich bastards want group sex. Hashish. Expensive whiskey, changing of partners. No wonder the police raided that villa. I hope they catch them all."

Hugh, preparing to leave, stiffened. "Are the police still searching for guests who attended the party."

"So I understand. You know how it is with cops, especially here. They stay away from real criminals because they are afraid. But they love to go after these rich types, especially if they throw orgies. Man!"

Well, Hugh reasoned, he was safe. He had been a stranger there and in no way could be connected with the disastrous affair. Saying goodbye, he started off in the direction of the market.

At the market square, among the displays of fruit, vegetables and candy, were stalls where pizzas were baked in portable ovens. Just a few housewives out to shop were on the scene, offering Hugh the run of the market. Leather belts and jackets were for sale, as were cheap shirts, neckties, socks, shoes and the like.

Since a variety of types appeared among the shoppers, Hugh, with his bared chest and wobbling canvas shoes, did not seem so much a novelty. Better yet, he had cash and was in no mood for bargaining. He selected stuff, paid the price asked and carried the lot away.

In the shade of trucks parked a short distance away, Hugh dressed, slipping on the blue striped shirt, knotting' the too-wide tie carelessly; then the new socks, the ill-fitting suit that was a synthetic and shaded more black than blue, and finally the shoes that were of good Italian leather.

At the last moment he remembered he had forgotten to buy a comb. But by gazing into the large outside mirror tacked to the door of a truck he managed to make some order of his hair with his fingers. Thus properly attired, he was off once again to make his way in this lousy world.

The woman at the travel agency was shocked to see him. "You! What do you want?"

"To work. You said you needed someone."

She took in his appearance. "Who dressed you, a clown?"

"These were bought in a hurry because I was afraid others would be here applying for the position before me." As he spoke Hugh gestured at the wall clock which read nine.

The woman sighed. In the shadows of the agency she appeared older, in her mid-thirties. Nevertheless she still had the firm, slender body of someone ten years younger.

"Do you have working papers?" She was looking him up and down from head to toe.

"You know the rules. You can't get a working permit unless you have a job."

"I don't know." She shook her head. "I don't want to get into any difficulties with the authorities."

He pointed at the brightly colored posters pasted all about the office, depicting the glories of faraway places with strange-sounding names.

"I know all those countries. Better yet, when you get foreigners in here I can handle them."

"You do not speak Italian."

"But you do. I can speak, besides my native English, French, German, a little Spanish and even some Dutch."

"Perhaps you're more suited for a language school than a travel agency." The woman was skeptical. "Where did you learn Dutch, from some waterfront girl in Holland?"

"In South Africa, when I worked for a mining company."

"Right." She made up her mind immediately. "You will get a try."

Working hours and salary were discussed. Then, with no potential travelers looking in, the entire morning could be taken acquainting Hugh with the workings of the bureau. He was given forms to fill which would be turned over to the various government offices and… Hugh was once again among the employed.

His boss's name was Gabriella Licardia, but, not being a woman to stand on formalities, she insisted upon using first names. The agency, she explained, was one of a branch owned by a larger firm located in Rome. Although she retained the air of a snob she was actually quite helpful and secured a room for Hugh at a nearby pensione.

Soon, when she discovered that Hugh was capable of running the agency without her presence, Gabriella would appear late, often around noon. Hugh, given a free hand, found himself enjoying some happy moments.

How could he have put up with the life he led back in London. he wondered, waking so late, doing absolutely nothing except drinking and screwing and visiting the tailor or having his car checked? Even though this was all routine he felt active, healthy.

All types stopped in at the bureau; people with too much time, people with too much money, people who were lost. There were people, too, who had little time and little money and whose ideas of travel were definite. Hugh dealt with them all, offering warmth and sincerity in his manner.

He knew train and plane schedules by heart within a few days and could talk with ease about the differences among hotels in Paris, Rome, Copenhagen, Barcelona or Munich. He would unroll maps on the counter and trace with his fingers the swiftest routes to Vienna or the best-paved highway leading down to Naples.

English was the language used most often, but he found his Spanish improving as he dealt with travelers who had left the Basque area for the first time. He booked them the cheapest fares and lowest priced rooms, saving so much that they were able to extend their holidays.

Gabriella now knew what she had on her hands and not only became more friendly but more familiar. He was invited out to dinner at her expense. When he replied negatively to her question of his 'having a girl,' she smiled.

"In that case you can be my escort this evening. There's a film I wish to see and afterwards we might go dancing."

Changes in Hugh's appearance had taken place after the first week. Gone were the market-square clothes. In their stead were highly polished shoes, button-down shirts, cravats of silk knit and a well-cut gray mohair suit. A far cry from the ragged type she had first encountered at the cafй, Hugh now resembled a gentleman.

After that, further changes in Gabriella's attitude became evident. When he took her home in the evenings, instead of shaking his hand she offered her cheek to be kissed. It upset him because she was getting him excited, slowly, deliberately, and he knew that engaging in sex his boss could only mean trouble.

Still further changes in her behavior came about due to the presence of a young girl sent up from the main office in Rome. The girl not only had a magnetic personality; she was amazingly structured, like a film star in the old tradition of Sophia Loren and Gina Lollobrigida. Her function was to examine all records and fill in reports for the main office, but she was overly friendly to Hugh, hinting always of her availability in the evening.

Now Gabriella put on a campaign to prevent Hugh from falling into the hands and the bed of the young Roman charmer. She changed her hairstyle and clothing, appearing one day with a ponytail bouncing on her shoulders and her saucy hips and bottom encased in a tight pair of shorts. Even the other girl watched as Gabriella swung languidly through the office, her shorts tightening over the contours of the small but definitely shapely rump.