Carrie White

Born in Gloucestershire in 1970, Carrie is fast gaining exposure and recognition for her erotic writing. She has been published in the English erotic magazine named 'Jade', and various web based publications including BlueFood, The Ultimate Hallucination, Free the Writer, ThoughtCafe, The Writer's Room, Thermoerotic,Cliterati and more. She has also been interviewed for TV within the UK and USA.

You can read more of Carrie's work on her website http://www.hentracks.co.uk and she can be emailed Carrie White

''...If Carrie Whites' first collection of short stories is a heralding of things to come, then times are looking good.' '...She is a true visionary, a creator of vignettes worthy of being called erotica.'' - Tracy Few, eBook Reviews Weekly

''Erotogenic is an erotic and enjoyable work. According to the author's website she is currently at work on novels. Considering the quality of work in this collection as well as how well these short stories were received in major magazines in Europe, the novels should be interesting and enjoyable. This is one author definitely worth keeping an eye on.'' - Kevin R Tipple, PeacockBlue

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Becoming Orgasmic

“You want to become what?” This was my first reaction when my flatmate Cara told me of her latest idea. I was used to her endless searching for the ‘thing’ that would change her life forever. It was safe to say that she was not happy with her lot and tried aimlessly to find something that would enable her to feel better about herself.

“I want to become orgasmic.”

Usually I’m quick off the mark but this time she had stumped me.

“What the hell does that mean? ‘Become orgasmic.’ How on earth did you come up with that?”

We were sitting in a café inside one of the local bookshops in town. It was rare that we managed to have a day off work together so we took advantage of them whenever we could. Cara loved browsing round the bookshops, and I could usually be found checking out the latest fashions. For a few months now, I had secretly wanted to be more to Cara than the other girl sleeping in the other room. I wanted to be her mate, in her bed. But I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, and my trepidations were warranted. None of Cara’s relationships lasted very long, and those she had were few and far between.

“It’s a book I spotted in a bookshop the other day. In fact, I think it was this one.” She smiled wryly. “Becoming Orgasmic,” she went on, “is a sexual and personal growth programme for women.”

Cara’s pretty features screwed up into an expression of enthusiasm. She looked at me with brown eyes widened with a passion of a different kind to the one that I wished I saw, and her rosy lips had parted slightly. Damn, she was so beautiful, so alive.

I, on the other hand, had my fair share of attention but never considered myself in the same league. I had shoulder length red hair and green eyes. Below them a spatter of freckles emphasised my cheekbones. I stood a couple of inches shorter than Cara at 5ft 6. My figure was trim and well in proportion to my height. I could never understand why she always needed to revamp her life with these special programmes. She was already fabulous.

I shook my head. “You’ve lost me Cara. What the hell would an orgasmic programme involve?” I stumbled slightly with the ‘O’ word. I dreaded to think what people would be thinking if they overheard our conversation.

She was silent for a few minutes with that intent look she sometimes gets. For the first time, I realized how much it bothered me that Cara had so few lovers. It seemed more often than not she was alone, and I believed that her poor view of herself affected Cara’s ability to find someone she felt would love her.

“Well this book, Becoming Orgasmic tells of a number of sexual exercises you can do. I need a partner to practice with. That’s what I don’t have. A partner.”

Ah. So that was it. She suggested that I fill that spot, that I practice helping her become orgasmic.

“Why me? Why choose me to be your partner?” My heart beat faster and I could feel my panties becoming damp at the thought of us together. I looked at her eager face and although I was excited at the prospect of helping her with this, I couldn’t help but think that it would have a detrimental effect on our friendship.

“Wouldn’t it be better for you to wait until you found a boyfriend?”

She didn’t say a word, just gave me that famous look she had. I caved. “Okay. How about showing me the book and perhaps we can go from there.”

I stared into my coffee as she ran off to find the book. It was easier to concentrate on the swirling white froth of milk than it was to consider what I was getting myself into. I hoped that she wouldn’t be able to find it. There was a part of me that didn’t want to go any further with this idea but there was also that selfish bit that did. It was that fraction of desire that was playing havoc with my emotions, wetting my lips. My clit throbbed as the rest of me fought for a semblance of control.

Cara returned and triumphantly slammed the book on the table in front of me. It had an attractive white cover with reddish-purplish butterflies below the title, which seemed apt considering what was flitting around in my stomach. The word ORGASMIC was printed in red, bringing my mind back to my irritated clit. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

I had a look at the back of the book and casually flipped through the chapters. After a few minutes of silence I looked at Cara and tried not to blush.

“Okay. I’m intrigued. How do you want to play this?”

Cara rushed off to purchase the book with a silly grin on her face.

We took the bus home. Cara grabbed my hand, already damp with perspiration. I snatched it away, and frantically rubbed it on my thigh to remove the beads of sweat.

I mouthed ‘Sorry’ as her eyes filled up with tears. “I’m sorry.” I said again. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I don’t know what’s up with me.” I did know, I suppose, but couldn’t bring myself to talk about it.

Cara stood, readjusted her bag so it sat on her hip, and said that she would see me at home. With that, she got off the bus two stops early. I watched her go and thought that she was holding herself together much better than I was. I felt a quivering wreck with feelings for her that grew stronger; all my doubts recklessly pounding away trying to convince the rest of me that I was about to do the wrong thing.

I returned home sooner than Cara and was busy making myself a cup of tea when she entered the kitchen. She immediately switched the kettle off and held up the bottle of wine she had bought.

“I think you need something stronger than tea right now.” She busied herself getting glasses and retrieved the bottle opener from a drawer. “I noticed you’re all wobbly. Not like yourself.” She winked at me.

She still hadn’t answered my question that I had asked earlier that day. I was still interested as to why she chose me to be her orgasmic partner.

“Well you are absolutely perfect. You like women so you know better than most what to do. You’re more likely to be sensitive and gentle, and we know each other. Simple.”

I wasn’t sure.

“Surely knowing each other makes things trickier, more complicated?”

Cara stopped pouring the wine to look at me. “So that’s why you’re all nervy. Okay, I should have realised. It doesn’t have to be complicated at all. We’ll just see how it goes. If it looks like things are going funny then we can stop, can’t we?”

She came over and put her arms round me. “Look, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship either but this is what friends are all about, isn’t it? Helping one another. Everything will be fine, trust me.”

I smiled and Cara passed me a glass of wine. We made a toast: to becoming orgasmic.

It didn’t take me long to loosen up after a few glasses of wine. I did feel though that this whole situation was contrived. It had no romantic or spontaneous feeling to it. It wasn’t how I wanted it to be. I wanted to court Cara, to wine and dine her, to make her feel special. I couldn’t see how I could do that in this forced scenario.

Cara turned the lighting down low and had music playing softly in the background. I sat in the corner of the room clad in my dressing gown. We had both decided to change into something more comfortable. Noting my empty glass, Cara poured me another drink and refilled her own. She knelt down in front of me.

“So,” I said, softly. “What do you have in mind?”

I lifted her chin up towards me with one finger. I felt more like myself and wanted everything to be as good as it could be.

“Well, I’ve only read snippets from the book, but it’s a start.” Cara stumbled over her words, licking her lips nervously. I couldn’t believe this. Only a few hours ago, Cara had been confidant but now she had started to display signs of nervousness whilst I had regained my sense of composure.

“There are a lot of things that don’t apply to us in the book, so I’ve chosen something that we could do together that doesn’t involve anything too heavy.”

I shrugged. “Sounds good to me.” I brought my lips close to hers. She hesitated as if not sure of my intentions but I quashed her doubts and ran my tongue along her bottom lip. In immediate response she thrust her own through my parted lips and kissed me deeply. My mouth was firm on hers and I could sense her struggle to draw breath. The passion I felt was overwhelming. Eventually I stood up and led her upstairs to my bedroom.

We both removed our clothes and lay down on the bed facing one another. She whispered to me that we should just touch one another but not the most obvious parts of our bodies. That was the exercise. Tentatively she reached out and touched my arms and shoulders with her fingertips.

With gentle fingers I ran my fingers over her skin. It was soft and smooth. We explored each other’s bodies taking care to exclude nipples, breasts and pussies in our exploration. Eventually Cara propped her head on one hand and closed her eyes. I could see her breathing grow deeper and regular and I thought at one point she had fallen asleep.

I whispered, “Cara?”

She opened her eyes and turned her head to me. “I’m not asleep, though I feel so relaxed. I love what you’re doing to me. It feels amazing. How can I describe it-?” She paused for a second before continuing, “Like the first time I ever masturbated. It feels so good.”

I ran my fingers over her hair, delighting in the sleek shiny texture and the scent that I disturbed with the warmth of my touch. Eventually she lay back onto the bed and placed her arms down by her sides. Now I had access to all parts of the front of her beautiful body and I lost no time discovering wonders of a new indulgence for me.

I followed the path of my fingers with my lips, kissing and caressing every inch. My tongue traced tiny circles savouring the saltiness of her skin as I travelled downwards towards her pussy. I moved my body closer to her so that my belly pressed into her hip. I wanted to be close, to melt into her heat. She must have felt the same as she entwined her legs with mine. Our interlocked limbs drew the lower parts of our bodies nearer. I pressed my pubic mound into hers and we ground together.

She moaned as my lips again found hers, my tongue probing within her mouth. Our kiss grew stronger and deepened with each passing second. We were touching still but no longer with our fingers.

“Oh my god, Bev.” she murmured.

“Sssh.” I placed one finger on her parted lips. “Don’t say anything. Just enjoy.” I moved on top of her and raised myself up onto my hands so my hair fell over her face. I placed one knee in between her thighs and gently prised them further apart.

Her nipples were erect and I captured one into my mouth, sucking hard so it stiffened further. I moved onto the next, tracing a circle round the bottom of each, and then running over the peak with the tip with my tongue. Cara arched her back. Her movement forced her breasts further into my mouth. They felt soft against my chin as I suckled like a baby. My own hung down so that her stomach quivered as they brushed back and forth across her body. I gasped as my nipples became rigid and engorged with blood.

I could smell the scent of her arousal as I neared my goal. Her pussy lips glistened with her juices as my lips and tongue passed through the perfectly formed ringlets of pubic hair. I passed by her clitoris to pay attention to the sensitive spot just below it. I rubbed gently at that spot with the flat of my tongue, listening to Cara’s vocal responses to my caresses. Every now and again I would flick gently at her bud, teasing her to an orgasmic frenzy as she writhed on the bed. As I sensed her climax approaching I moved down to the entrance of her vagina, sweeping up and down with long strokes, before going back to the small area below her clitoris. I delighted in the taste of her juices, warm and sweet and lapped up as much as I could.

Before too long I was rewarded as Cara’s body bucked as waves of pleasure ran through her whole body. I continued to suck and lick as her climax eventually ebbed away.

“Wow,” she breathed. “That was something else.”

I clambered back on top of her and covered her face with small kisses. I stayed that way until her breathing slowed. She placed her hands on my waist and rolled me over until she was lying on top. She brushed the hair back from my eyes and whispered, “Well, I don’t think we’ll need that book after all.”

I looked at her with surprise. “Why on earth not?”

“Oh, I’m glad I bought it because if I hadn’t I don’t think I would have ever found you, and I know now what has been missing from my life. It’s been sitting in front of me all this time and I didn’t even realise it was there.”

She laughed, and as she brought her lips back down on mine, I couldn’t help but think that was the sweetest thing I had ever heard.

Carrie White © 2006

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The air had become thick with cigarette smoke and I struggled not to cough. I wore my blonde hair in a chignon and a sleek, red dress clung to every curve of my figure. I avoided wearing too much make-up, preferring to accentuate my best features: my eyes and my lips.

I’ve always looked forward to a round in the casino. It brings me closer to my father, who had both lived and worked there until the day he died. Growing up, I lived a divided life: my mother’s home and my father’s gambling.

When my father returned home from work each night he would climb the stairs to say goodnight. No matter how tired I felt I would always plead with him to tell me all about his evening. He would lower his voice and lean close as if he did not wish my mother to hear. I used to laugh and enjoy the little secrets we shared. I was not aware of my mother’s concern at the time. She later told me that she had often wished he would not tell stories about his sordid lifestyle.

Now I would carry-on that tradition. I returned to the casino he had worked and mentally noted all the things that he had told me. His stories came alive for me, experiencing all that he had seen, felt and heard.

The casino started to fill up now and after grabbing myself a Vodka Martini I settled down at the nearest blackjack table to watch the game. I try to guess each player’s range of expertise by their mannerisms, and comparing those traits with the outcome of their hand. My father taught me that.

I soon realized I would be winning at a different sort of game tonight. I became aware of the presence of a woman dressed in black.

She had that aura about her; she oozed sexuality and presence. The one thing, though, that I found myself drawn to was her generous bosom. The woman’s breasts were enormously large in proportion to her slight frame and it was difficult to imagine how she could stay upright or even balanced. The dress she wore emphasized her cleavage and my eyes were drawn down the length of her dramatic v-shape neckline towards the rounded shape of her breasts. I found it difficult to pull my eyes away from the magnificent sight. This was new territory to me. To be attracted to another woman was a surprise, but I figured that it would be hard not to be attracted to this woman. I ran my tongue over my lips as if I could taste the saltiness of her nipples already in my mouth.

“Hit, please.” Her voice dripped with confidence, but it wasn’t about the cards she held, it was her sexuality of which she was sure. I imagined my hand removing the thin strap from her soft shoulder.

Her facial expression gave nothing away as to the value of the cards in her hand. She bet two red chips to the value of $10, but when the dealer asked again of her intentions she said, “Stand.”

The woman caught me looking at her and I turned my head away in embarrassment. It wasn’t her game skill that attracted me to her. It was her breasts.

Across the table from me, she winked and smiled before taking a seductive, pouty-lipped sip of her drink. I bowed my head and studied the clasped hands in my lap. When I raised my eyes in her direction again, she had gone. I could not suppress the wave of disappointment that came over me. And then I felt her luscious warm breasts pressing into my back.

Through the sheer material of her dress, I could feel her hardened nipples and I stifled a short gasp. I glanced around the table and was horrified to find that we were being watched. Some of the men smirked and a couple of women look disgusted, maybe jealous. My mysterious vixen pressed something in my hand and then I felt her firm breasts leave me. I swallowed hard and looked down at what she had given me. It was small, black and rectangular and on one side it had a sliding switch. I tripped the switch a few times, on and off. It didn’t seem to do anything. Is this a garage opener?

A sultry voice rich with years of cigarettes and scotch whispered in my ear, “Steady on, sweetie! Take it nice and slow to start. I like a little foreplay, like any woman.”

I blushed hard, feeling the heat spread from my face down my neck and chest. I held the remote control, clearly some sort of sexual device that my sexy lady had managed to hide in her snug-fitting dress.

Scanning the casino, I again couldn’t find her immediately, and I knew she wanted it that way. My woman gambler was playing me; placing a bet on how I would play the hand she dealt me. I could feel the moisture between my legs; my head was swimming. I needed some fresh air, or a drink, or some kind of diversion.

I tried my best to casually saunter across the casino floor with as much poise as I could with my pussy throbbing. I held the control of another woman’s sexuality in the palm of my hand. I still couldn’t find her. Determined to act sophisticated I propped myself up at the bar. I ordered another Vodka Martini from the good-looking barman and casually flipped the switch of the remote. I imagined her watching me as I slowly sipped my drink. I could hear faint moans from behind me but when I turned round, there was no one there. Where was she?

I desperately scanned the room for her, the remote in one hand, and my drink in the other. I flipped the switch on and off rapidly and I spotted her. She was chatting to a tall, handsome man almost directly behind me, a few tables away. Every time the vibrator turned on, she gave a little jump, and then covered up her movements by pretending she had been touched up by someone passing by. The tall guy didn’t seem convinced. I couldn’t help but smirk a little.

Even from that distance it was obvious that his conversation was failing to hold her interest.

“So, what’s that you got in your hand?” The barman gestured towards the black remote I clutched in my right hand. I jumped.

“What this? Oh, it’s just a personal alarm.” I placed it and my drink on the bar, turning to him. I smiled, and he extended me his hand. Just act natural, I thought. I tried not to wriggle on the seat too much. Damn it ached.

“My name is Ben. Pleased to meet you.” I took his offer of a handshake and introduced myself as Katy.

Then he asked, “Are you okay? You seem preoccupied.” I turned back towards Ben and shook my head. Glancing at the box, I realized that I had switched the remote on. I imagined a trickle of cum running down the inside of her thighs. My tongue ached to lick it off, slowly climbing higher to her soft, warm lips. My clit swelled. I could almost smell the sweetness of her pussy juices. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. My pussy burned and throbbed and gushed for her touch.

”No, I’m fine. But yes, I am a bit preoccupied tonight.” I nodded and smiled at the barman and he flashed me a smile but I could see disappointment in his eyes. He was looking over my shoulder, and then I felt her warm breasts envelope my arm. She reached across my chest, brushing my nipple, and switched the black box off.

I could feel her heat and her passion radiating against my side, she stood so close to me. I hoped my fingers would very soon be gently strumming her bud. Boldly I swivelled on the barstool and slipped my arms round her narrow waist, pulling her towards me between my legs. She leaned into my breasts.

“You frustrate me, sweetie,” she murmured. “I love my games to last much longer.” I gave no answer, preferring my heartbeat and my touch against her thigh to convey my feelings for her.

“Shall we go to my room?”

I nodded, against her soft, musty smelling hair. I surprised myself with my boldness, but I felt an incredible respect for her: she had awakened this side of me. I had never felt so aroused by a man before. My inexperience did not worry me. At that moment, nothing worried me.

She led me away from the crowds to the room she held in the casino.

She pushed me gently onto the bed and slowly removed my clothes, then stood back and admired my firm breasts and flat stomach. She removed her dress, and then her bra. I sat up and reached out to grab her with both hands. I massaged her breasts enjoying their vastness and watching her nipples grow harder with my touch.

She pushed me back into the bed and kissed me softly. Her long tresses hung loosely and tickled the sensitive skin of my neck. My nose was full of her scent, spicy and hot and smoky, like cider served on a cold night.

I closed my eyes, savouring the feel of her body on mine. Her gaze burnt a path of warmth down between my breasts and over my stomach. Each breath I took lifted my nipples up eagerly towards her, waiting to be nibbled and sucked. With each touch of her fingertips, her lips, her tongue, her mouth, she spread through my being.

Moving slowly down my body, she slid her hands over my bare flesh. I came alive; the fine hair on my skin stood on end mimicking a blanket to cover my nudity, pleasure bolts travelled to every nerve ending lighting a path down to my pussy, which she followed with her tongue. For several moments she licked and probed, exploring the folds between my thighs as if she wished to straighten each one out.

She caressed and kissed and massaged my body into orgasm. She held me close then as the tears rolled down my cheeks. I melted into her. She told me her name. Then I remembered she didn’t know who I was. “I’m Katy,” I said and she smiled.

Carrie White © 2006

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