Author's Note: This story has been posted to Literotica.Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.
Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
This story could have gone into a few different categories, such as Interracial Love, Romance, even Lesbian Sex. I chose Group Sex even though that category does not seem to get much traffic nor garner many comments or votes.
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ROCHELLE RICHARDS
Rochelle Richards sat back and let out a sigh. It had taken every ounce of patience not to react to the belligerent woman's shrill accusations and blatant lies, but she had managed.
"Yes ma'am, you say you sent in your payment and you say that we cashed your check," Rochelle repeated the woman's claim. "And, ma'am? Ma'am, I'm speaking. I am speaking. Ma'am, I'm trying to help you; please listen. If you come in and show us the cancelled check, yes ma'am; the bank can provide you with, well yes ma'am, this is an inconvenience, I understand that. But unless you can show us proof that you did pay your utility bill? Yes ma'am, you do have to show us proof. Ma'am, if you can show us proof that you did pay that bill, I will gladly waive the seventy nine dollar reconnect fee. Ma'am, this telephone call is being recorded. There is no need for language like that."
Finally seeing that her excuses, whining, wheedling, and accusations would do no good, the customer called Rochelle an ignorant bitch before ending the call. Rochelle made notes on the customer's file before exiting out of the screen.
Movement caught her eye and Rochelle looked over. She sucked in her breath as she saw Sven Norton approaching her. The six foot three inch Nordic man made Rochelle feel weak, caused her heart to hammer in her chest. She knew her blouse was a pretty one and knew her slacks showed her ass off to perfection. She wondered if her hair was good; she'd taken her usual steps with it that morning, but had not had time to spritz it with hair spray before dashing out of the apartment she and her mother shared.
Sometimes, the headphones left an indentation across the top of her head; Rochelle wanted to dig her hairbrush out of her purse and give her hair a quick brush, but there was no time. She wondered if she dared undo another button on her blouse.
"Be my luck that bitch would catch me," Rochelle muttered.
Kenata Williams was the HR Manager for St. Elizabeth Parish Public Utilities and brooked no arguments. She ran a tight ship and seemed especially harsh on any African-American employees. Rochelle was bi-racial but endured the same treatment any African-American employee received.
Kenata Williams had explained her policies one time to Rochelle, saying "People of color? We got to work twice as hard to be taken half as serious as any white person. So, yeah, I'm a hard-ass."
"Shit; should have worn the skirt. Oh, oh yeah, it needed ironing," Rochelle reminded herself as the tall man gave Rochelle a warm smile.
"Rochelle Richards? This is Desiree um, Adams," Sven introduced a smiling young girl to Rochelle.
Rochelle had been so intent on Sven, she had not noticed the caramel skinned beauty to his left. She slipped the headphones from her head and stood to shake hands with the young woman. The contact was warm as their hands touched and their eyes locked.
"Love your hair," both young women said, almost in perfect synchronization.
Rochelle had long shiny black hair that reached down to the small of her back. Each morning, she carefully washed and conditioned her hair. Getting out of the shower, she applied a hair conditioner designed to be left in the hair. Then she blew it to nearly dry before using a hot comb to keep her hair straight, silky smooth.
Desiree's own black hair was in a medium sized afro that was perfectly round, surrounding her beautiful square face. Her eyes were dark brown, her nose was slim and her dark red lips were plump. With her square face, the afro hairstyle was simply perfect.
"Desiree's going to be on the late night shift with us; she's in training," Sven said as Rochelle and Desiree continued to admire one another. "I told her, I told Greg and Annette that you're the best person to train her so she'll be listening in as you handle the calls."
"Thank you," Rochelle said, pleased with her immediate supervisor's compliment.
One of the scrawny guys from IT wheeled a chair to Rochelle's cubicle. Rochelle could never remember if this was Brian or the other guy, Sean. In truth, it didn't matter; they were interchangeable. Both young men believed themselves to be geniuses but barely knew enough to be dangerous. Rochelle was just waiting for the day that one or the other managed a colossal screw up that would kill service for all of St. Elizabeth Parish.
"Hey, Roach," Brian or Sean leered at the attractive bi-racial girl as he attempted to plug a second headset into the phone system.
"Rochelle, dumb ass," Rochelle snapped, jerking the plug out of his hand and jamming it into the correct receptacle.
"Got it," the IT Geek announced to the unamused Sven.
"Thank you, Sean," Sven said, dismissing the youth.
"God, he is ooh!" Desiree whispered as both she and Rochelle watched Sven's tight backside walk away.
"Yeah," Rochelle agreed. "Shame he's married."
"Yeah, like a wedding ring ever stopped a man?" Desiree asked, pulling her eyes from Sven to look at Rochelle.
"True, true," Rochelle agreed. "Now, the screen? We got three ways to look up the account. They know their account number? That's the best way; right here? First box. Next way is their phone number; that's this box. Just use the 'Tab' key to go from box to box. Third way is their address."
She leaned close to Desiree. Desiree swiveled slightly in her chair so that their legs were touching.
"One time? I punched in the telephone number? Pops up with two addresses," Rochelle confided to Desiree. "It was the wife calling in to find out why her bill was so high; it was under her husband's phone number. The second address was his girlfriend's apartment."
"No!" Desiree gasped, giggling.
"Men are dogs," Rochelle said. "Now, everything in the white? That's okay to tell the customer. Everything in the blue? They want to know that? They need to come here in person to get that."
The telephone rang and Rochelle answered with "Saint Elizabeth Utilities; Rochelle speaking. How may I assist you?"
Desiree gasped as a customer immediately launched into a profanity laden tirade. Rochelle showed Desiree that she was tabbing to a field and when the telephone number popped up, Rochelle highlighted the phone number and hit 'Enter.' The customer's account popped up and both girls were able to see that the customer's service had been disconnected that afternoon.
"Sir? Sir, Mr. Soileau, this call is being recorded. Mr. Soileau, you received notice that if the bill was not paid by the eleventh, Mr. Soileau I am speaking. Have a nice day, sir," Rochelle said, then terminated the call when Richard Soileau threatened to come to the building and blow her head off.
Richard A. Soileau's address was in Bender, Louisiana. Rochelle contacted the Bender Police Department and told Sheriff Orville Jackson of Richard Soileau's threats. With a sigh, Orville promised to send a cruiser to the address.
"They can get mad; hell I remember every time my momma got our power cut off I was mad," Rochelle said. "They can even call us names, I mean, up to a point. But minute they threaten us? Hang up and call the police. Never know when one them assholes going be serious."
"Are they all like that?" Desiree asked, deep brown eyes wide.
