Customer Serviced

28 Temmuz 2022 0 Yazar: sexhikayeleri

Amateur

Rain rattled against the window like rice on a drum skin, and the house groaned as the wind wheezed through gaps around the old doors. Emily tried again to convince herself she was not scared; the old Emily would not have been, but the old Emily had gone and the new one was stumbling in the dark. This weekend was supposed to be another step on her road to recovery, but she’d fallen at the first hurdle.She’d gone to bed early, but the storm made it difficult to sleep in the guest bedroom of her parent’s home, so she went down to the living room just before midnight. She’d been living with them for the last three months. It was now more than a year since it had happened. They were great, and she was thankful for all their help, but now she needed to do more for herself to regain her confidence. Her father could see it and knew she needed a break from them; her mother was a different matter.“Emily is a big girl, Jean; she needs to make her own way again,” he’d said.“Big girl or not, she will always be our child Jack,” she’d replied.It had taken their combined efforts to persuade her mum she’d be okay alone while they visited her aunt in Cardiff for the weekend. Emily had been fine when the storm started, but when the power failed, her confidence ebbed away. She was on her own in the dark, in a storm, in an isolated farmhouse. Emily shivered, as much in fear as with the cold. She felt her way on her hands and knees to the fireplace and found the ignition lever on the side. She clicked twice and refused to panic when nothing happened. On the third press, the gas burst into life, pushing back the cold and the dark at the same time. Warmth and confidence returning, she made her way to the kitchen, to the fuse cupboard her dad had shown her during her first week. He was old school about things like that, and now she was grateful for it. She found the candles and matches and a card with the emergency contact number for Caledonian Power.Emily made her way back to the living room and lit a candle. The flickering light threw ghostly shadows on the wall, giving her imagination something new to fret about. She lit two more, and they banished the ghosts to the corners of the room. Her dead mobile phone mocked her on the coffee table. Her dad had a routine when he came into the house; keys and wallet in the old fruit bowl on the hall table and phone in the charger. He was a bit OCD about it. Now she wished she had been more like him. Emily picked up the house phone, surprised the line was still live, but who would she ring at 1 am? Certainly not her parents, even though her dad had left her aunt’s number on a post-it note stuck to the handset. The little telephone directory next to it had the numbers of her parent’s friends and a few relatives, all in her mum’s neat handwriting. She realised her parents’ distrust of technology; preferring candles, landlines, paper phone bahis şirketleri books etc, was sensible and resolved to be less dependent on her £30 per month paperweight.An enormous crack of lightning brought her musings about generational differences to an abrupt end. Emily’s heart was racing. “Fuck that, I’ve had enough of this,” she told the cowering ghosts. She dialed the Caledonian Power emergency number, desperate to hear another person’s voice. But first, she would give them a piece of her mind about the bloody electricity going off. When would the service be back, I mean it’s not as if they didn’t pay through the nose for electricity? And how come there was electricity to make the phone work? Perhaps they should buy their electricity from the phone company? She had time to practice her outrage while on hold. She reached just the right level of righteous indignation when the music cut out and she was connected to a customer service operative.“Caledonian Power, Andy speaking, how can I help you?” The warm Scottish voice with a slight Edinburgh burr, almost wrong-footed Emily; she had been expecting to speak to ‘Kevin’ from New Delhi, but she found inspiration from it.“You may be Caledonian, but you’ve got no power, not where I am sitting anyway,” Emily snapped.Andy smiled to himself. He’d heard many more offensive openings, but fewer witty ones. “My apologies on behalf of Caledonian Power. The storm has disrupted supplies in several locations. If you give me your postcode, I can give you an update on plans to restore power in your area.”He’d taken the wind out of Emily’s sails, not from what he said, which was all good customer service practice, but by the calm and reassuring way he said it. But she was determined to have her go. “But I don’t know my postcode,” she bellowed and immediately regretted it because she sounded like an idiot.“Not to worry madam, just let me have your address,” continued the patient, reasonable voice.Emily wondered how many other calls this man had already dealt with, and her natural politeness made her apologetic. “I mean, I’m house-sitting my parents’ place, I can’t remember their postcode but the nearest village is Bilton,” she said more evenly. She could hear his fingers on the keyboard.“Ah yes,” said Andy. “I’ll know when your lights come on because they will come on here too, we’re both in the same network area.”“So, you’re sitting there in the dark too, are you?” Emily felt connected to the welcoming voice at the other end of the line.“Yes, I am. The phones get their power from a separate national network; we have batteries to keep the computers running. But I am in the dark with you, Ms…”“Emily, my name is Emily Moss. You’re not worried about the dark then?”“It hasn’t bothered me for years and I am used to working nights. There’s no need for you to worry, you are not alone,” said Andy.“What do you mean?”“Well, bahis firmaları I am here with you, aren’t I?” His voice was like a comforting arm around her shoulder.“Yes, yes you are Andy, thank you.”“Emily, I will have to answer some other calls in a minute, but if you would like I could call you back later, to give you an update on the situation.”“That would be very nice, Andy. I’ll look forward to your update.”Andy rang off a minute later, and Emily sat in the candlelight pondering what just happened. She checked the last number dialed to make sure she had been speaking to the power company. She was blushing. Like he’d just chatted her up in a wine bar. His voice was too good for that job. He sounded like he should be on the radio, on a phone-in programme. What did he look like? Did he have a wife or girlfriend? The storm blew on, but it did not register anymore. She had not thought about a man that way since it had happened. A man was a complication Emily did not need at the moment. The thought of a man rejecting her because of the way she was now; or worse still, finding one who was only interested because of the way she was now was too much. Her counselor mentioned that possibility in one of their sessions. Anyway, here in the dark as a disembodied voice on the phone she could be who she wanted to be. She could be perfect. She wondered again about Andy and his smooth, seductive voice. Why was he wasting it on the night shift at customer services? No, she was being unfair, who was she to criticize, it was none of her business; he was only trying to be kind, and she was grateful for his care. An hour passed, and just as she convinced herself it was all flannel, the phone rang.“Hello Emily, Andy here, just letting you know what is happening.”It surprised Emily, how relieved she felt to hear his voice. “Yes, Andy, thank you.”“You’re sound surprised I called back?”“Well, I was thinking it was just a way to manage complaints.”“That’s not very kind. Because of your parent’s age, we list them as vulnerable people, so we give them priority in emergency situations.”“Is that true?” said Emily, not quite believing that a private business would have such a conscience.“It is true, and it is also a wonderful excuse for my other reason for calling.”“Which is?”“I like the sound of your voice and I want to hear more of it.”“Snap,” said Emily. The word was out before she had time to censor it. Not that she would have wanted to, anyway. She felt light-headed that this Adonis, (her thoughts were running away), was interested in her. Even if it was just banter, it was great for her self-confidence.They both laughed with the relief they would not have to pretend to have a conversation about a power cut.“Anyway, we are rerouting power because a pylon is down. I’m afraid it could take all night to fix.”“Oh dear, I will expect you to keep me fully appraised of the kaçak bahis siteleri situation,” said Emily, happy at the prospect of speaking to Andy again.“Well, you’ve got to keep the customer satisfied,” said Andy.“Speaking of songs, I was thinking you had a perfect voice for late-night radio.”“Why is that?” he teased.“You know, deep, warm, comforting… sexy.” Emily could not believe she was telling him this.“Any more?” he teased.“Oi mister, you’re supposed to be stroking my ego. I’m the customer,” she laughed.“That’s true. But thank you, Emily. I tried out for local radio once.”“But you were rubbish?”“Ouch, she sets him up to knock him straight down,” said Andy, feigning injury. “No, I had problems driving the studio technology and on many late-night shows there is no studio engineer.”“That’s a pity, let’s hear your patter then.”“Okay, if you insist. The time is now 2.15 am, and I dedicate our next record to the beautiful and charming Emily. It’s Foreigner with, `Waiting for a Girl like you.”Her face was glowing, and she felt a warmth and tightness in her chest at the same time. More surprising was the strong pulse in her groin.“How did I do?” asked Andy.Emily heard her croaky voice saying, “You got the job.”They chatted on about music and books and films; the conversation flowed. They shared a love of Dickens and a loathing of reality TV. After 20 minutes she heard an alarm beeping at his end.“Emily, I need to give the team a hand, the calls are backing up. I’ll be back,”“Okay, you know where I’ll be.” She hugged the cushion when the line went dead. Emily sat in the dark. No longer afraid of the storm blowing outside. She felt like she was on a date that had been interrupted. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Even by the candlelight, she noticed the sparkle in her eyes and the bloom on her cheek, and she was smiling. She had not felt this happy in a long time. She also noticed her nipples poking through her cotton pajamas top, and as she pinched her legs together, she could feel her wetness. ‘You’re not exactly playing hard to get, you tart,’ she said to her reflection. ‘If Andy walked in now, you wouldn’t let him get his jacket off before you jumped his bones.’ These thoughts were not helping her calm anything, and she sat back down, the pulse in her groin even stronger than before. Emily lay back on the couch imagining Andy was in the room.Andy stood before her, tall at over six feet, aged around thirty. He had black curly hair and dark eyes. His face was not handsome in a beautiful sense, but when he smiled it lit up the room. He’d dressed in a black leather jacket, check working shirt, and jeans. He looked at her lying back, breathing raggedly, eyes heavy-lidded, mouth dry with anticipation. Andy’s eyes moved down her body, opening wide as he noticed her hard nipples, her splayed legs, and the damp patch in her pajamas. She was embarrassed and aroused at the obvious evidence of her desire, and covered what was left of her modesty, one hand across her breasts and the other at her crotch. “Please don’t cover yourself, Emily. Let me see you,” he sounded desperate.