Chapter 7
It had been the first really unsatisfactory experience Carol had known with Ann. The latter, realizing her son was a disturbing influence on Carol, sent him out of the room and then proceeded to whip Carol's clitoris a dozen times before ordering her onto the bed where she lapped Carol's cunt until the latter finally came. But what made Carol come was closing her eyes and imagining that it was a man, of all thing, down there, licking her cunt.
The following morning, the two roommates, acting as if nothing had happened, went to work while Albert went off to school. Sometimes there would be a lot of days going by before Ann would insist Carol do something with her again. In this instance, the weekend passed without anything taking place. Then, on Monday morning, when Carol, dressed, as always, in a white, man-tailored blouse, this time with a matching gray skirt, went to work at the Credential office, her supervisor came over to talk to her.
Mike Leechmann was a typical male, chauvinist pig. In many ways he reminded Carol of Albert, Ann's son. To begin with, he was short. Second, in order to cover an inferiority complex because of the fact that he was short, he was domineering without being dominating. He had a parchment-wrinkled face which led everyone to believe he was even older than the sixty-one he claimed to be. His hair was brown, but there was a good chance it was dyed. Everyone else in the office considered him the perfect male counterpart to Carol. In other words, he was a scumbag.
As always, he was dressed in a five hundred dollar suit, this time a dark-tan suit. He smiled at Carol, actually he leered, because as much as he enjoyed the discomfort of claimants, he loved seeing someone like Carol squirm even more. The reason was simple: Carol was there, a visible entity, and so when seeing her wriggle, he got a big kick out of it. True, he liked screwing policy-holders, but not nearly as much as he liked shafting someone like Carol.
"You received a claim by a Mr. Randall Forrest?" he asked her.
"I looked at it," she nodded. "He was a deadbeat, so I denied the claim. It was the right thing to do."
"Maybe," Mike shrugged, "but the man has written to the New York State Insurance Board. From what I hear, he's presenting them with a hefty amount of medical evidence. You know, Carol, it doesn't look nice for the company if a legitimate claim is turned down. It gets spread all over the newspapers, and then there's a big deal made out of it. It might cost us a lot of new policy-holders."
"You're making too much of this," Carol insisted, seated behind her desk, refusing to stand up when the man was nearby. She refused to stand in the presence of any superior, if said superior was male.
"Well see," Mike shrugged. "I'm assigning a field examiner to double-check this case."
"Who?"
"The best one we have, Micky Mantoparte."
"That woman is crazy for anything in pants," Carol objected.
"Then it might be a good idea if you took the day off tomorrow and watched her, discreetly, from a distance, and make certain she doesn't behave unethically and ruin the name of Credential."
"I think I'll do just that," Carol nodded. "This is one claim that is not going to be paid."
"If it is, your ass is in a sling, Carol."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mike."