Carrie's Exhibition Stand
I've made this into a diary entry and have several other stories coming up that will be part of this diary. The story starts . . . . I’m starting fresh today. I’m going to write about my experiences and emotions. Maybe
one day someone will make this into a book. So let’s start by telling you about myself. My name is Carrie and I love sex. Everything about it. I love guys who are older cause they are better at fucking. I love the chase. Finding a guy, single, married, mainly older and talking him into have a good time with me, naked and intimate. I’m now 24 but I’ve been like this since my 18th birthday when I was seduced by Richard who was much older and loved younger women. Well women who are between 18 and 22, any size, any shape and anywhere – so he said. We had a wild 3 days together. I learned more than any 18 year old should know about the art of sex and how to please a man. That is another story and one you need to watch out for. It’s been my secret now for the last 6 years and maybe time to tell you about it. But back to now and me. I’m Carrie White, blonde, petit and attractive. Or at least that is what they tell me, family, friends and lovers. I enjoy dancing, shows and eating. I’m a pizza queen, but I go for food from around the world. I left school and went to college for a year to study Hair and Make-up but I didn’t learn anything new so I left. I took a job promoting and merchandising. That meant standing in a Departmental Store or supermarket giving away samples or doing a make-up make-over. It was OK and I was doing what I liked, meeting new people and having fun. Wasn’t really like work. This story is about a steamy hot adventure with the sales director of a company showing at a major exhibition.
I will write here as soon as the audible book is published. I'm told my mainly women that my stories are best listened to, alone, in bed with a glass of wine, naked between silk sheets.
also available on Kindle
Richard Found & Trained Me
Sunday 20th February
Nothing happened today.
My name is Carrie White and I've had a strange career up to now. I was a bit of a wild child and moved to he smoke when I hit 18. Living in a remote country village in Cornwall was not really my style. I'd been living with my grandparents since coming to the UK from Africa where I'd been born. My parents were still there but they didn't think it was a suitable environment for me as I approached school age.
I left Cornwall and travelled to London. No friends and nowhere to live but enough money to see me through for a month. I'm quite an extrovert so I was happy on my own and approaching people to get what I wanted. I'd never been a wilting violet and was loud and showy. I guess you'd call me an extrovert. But what you need to know that I might have been the Belle of the Ball, the center of attention, but I was still a virgin at 18.
Today was a quiet relaxing Sunday so I’m writing about how my sexual adventures began, six years ago.
I’m now 24 but I’ve been like this since my 18th birthday when I was seduced by Richard who was much older and loved younger women. Well women who are between 18 and 22, any size, any shape and anywhere – so he said. We had a wild 3 days together. I learned more than any 18 year old should know about the art of sex and how to please a man.
I was 18 years old, well 18 years and 4 months to be exact. But I’d stopped saying years and months when I was about four. Now I’m 24 and so much has happened in those six years that I feel it’s been more like 16!!
My name is Carrie White and I’ve had a strange career up to now. I was a bit of a wild child and moved to the smoke when I hit 18. Living in a remote country village in Cornwall was not really my style. I’d been living with my grandparents since coming to the UK from Africa where I’d been born. My parents were still there but they didn’t think it was a suitable environment for me as I approached school age.
I left Cornwall and travelled to London. No friends and nowhere to live but enough money to see me through for a month. I’m quite an extrovert so I was happy on my own and approaching people to get what I wanted. I’d never been a wilting violet and was loud and showy. I guess you’d call me an extrovert. But what you need to know that I might have been the Belle of the Ball, the centre of attention, but I was still a virgin at 18.
I stayed in a cheap hotel on the Bayswater Road for 2 nights. It was a doss-house. Well actually it was like a knocking-shop except the guests were couples who might stay for a couple of hours or overnight. I was busy looking for a job and spent time in the “lounge” as it was called; it was the ground floor rooms just opened up into a dining room and lounge area with small bar. Couples came in and it was usually older guys with young girls, about my age, all with too much make-up and cheap clothes, looking tarted up. Some had a drink then went to their room.
I think the owners had wanted something different and it was decorated like the Arabian Nights, there were old leather suitcases covered in travel stickers from the past, there were Arabian style artifacts, probably cheap repros and rugs on the walls. It must have once had a certain charm but time had jaded and faded the place.
My room was quite small, and followed the Arabian theme. There was a cheap corner shower and a wash-basin. The wardrobe and dressing table looked like it had come straight out of a junk shop, chipped, wooden, varnished with cup rings on the dressing table. I checked and double checked the sheets, wondering if the room had been used earlier that day by a copulating couple. I was happy to see there were no stains, the sheets smelt fresh, if in need of an extra ironing, and the pillows were ok too. There was a spicy incense smell throughout the hotel and I found on the first morning that joss sticks were burning, probably part of the theme.
I’d signed in with a young girl at reception but me the owner later in the day. He was an Arab called Ali, wearing a shabby suit, shirt and tie. I imagined he thought himself a real magnet but he was oily in the way he talked to me. I wouldn’t have trusted him out of
sight. But I was here now; I carried the important things like my driving license and passport and debit card, so I wasn’t too worried. And it was cheap. I found out the young girl worked there did everything from cooking breakfast, cleaning through and working as receptionist. Ali, the owner talked to her quite harshly and that worried me. But I soon found out that’s the way Arabs talk to all women.
Ali would be in for a shock if he tried anything with me. . . now listen to the audio-book and enjoy as this turns into a hot and steamy three days with Carrie at 18 years old and Richard in his mid forties, and how he found her and trained her in all things sexual.
also available on Kindle
Carrie's Lesbian Adventure
Wednesday 2nd March
The loud knock on the door was louder than I expected but I knew who it was.
I ran over, opened up and Gwen entered, throwing herself at me and bursting into tears. She’d phoned to say that Anthony had broken up with her and she was devastated. They had been together for a few months now and he had just broken the news and walked out on her, an hour ago. And she’d rushed over for some sympathy.
It was five years since we’d shared an apartment together with two other girls. We’d been young then, me just eighteen, Gwen a year older. We’d had some great times together and she had introduced me to the world of sexy cam-sites where I’d started working ad hoc to make some extra cash, a lot as it so happens.
Gwen was really attractive and very good natured but I’d thought her so shy and with no sexual experience until I walked into her room one day and caught her almost naked and putting on a sexy show online for guys who sent tokens as tips that she could cash in for money. She was chatting away to them and looked like she was really enjoying herself.
Gwen was from Wales, some small village, so we had stuff in common. We worked together, went shopping together and went out clubbing together. Club drinks were so expensive, we drank in the apartment before going out then filled small water bottles with vodka and put them in our bags. We never got caught and guys bought for us drinks too. But we always left together and never gave guys anything, no mobile, no address, no touching, no kissing. They didn’t object or perhaps were waiting until the end. But of course we jumped in a cab and away. Our flat was in Bayswater, well more Lancaster Gate really. Huge terraced house tenanted on each floor. We had a kitchen cum diner with a large kitchen table, chairs and a large TV on the wall. There were 4 bedrooms; well I guess it was two rooms that had been divided with a false wall. Each bedroom was big enough. When it was a house the rooms must have been enormous. There was a bathroom with two shower cubicles so the landlord planned it well. I really enjoyed the flat sharing life. The girls were all great.
I’d been living with the girls for a year working hard and trying to save for my own place. I was doing OK. Different jobs going and all bringing in money, enough for me to put quite a bit aside each month and I expected to be able to buy my own place in a couple of years. I knew I needed a lot to buy in London. Then a miracle happened. My grandfather had left me some money. The letter came from a solicitor and I travelled to Cornwall to a meeting he had called. I stayed with my Gran, having lived there for several years when I was growing up. It was my home. In fact when Gramps became seriously ill, I had gone home for two weeks just to be with them, and look after Gran, who was quite capable but emotionally drained. .And then, quite quickly he passed away. My parents flew home for the funeral. It was a large funeral with so many local folk attending.
We set off for the meeting. Gran sitting upright in the car not talking. We were ushered in and sat waiting, just Gran and me. As I looked over at her I realized Gran had recovered well in the 4 months since he had died or was being very stoic. I knew she had many friends in the village and would be getting a ton of support.
I wasn’t expecting much. They lived in a small village in Cornwall and I didn’t even know what my grand-dad had done for a job. He was always working in his home office and I’d never really been
interested. We had a good life and he was always around for meals, pottering around in his lovely garden at weekends, having a barbeque, inviting local friends over. The usual stuff.
So I was astounded when the solicitor told me I had inherited £197,000. I couldn’t believe it at first, and it didn’t sink in.
Read on this hot and steamy story or listen on the Audible audiobook
Wednesday 9th March
The advert stood out like a streaker on Lord’s Cricket ground on a swelteringly hot summer day and a match day with packed terraces. “Are you ready to serve and be served as a gourmet feast for 3 insatiable gentlemen . . .?”
That had me going. There was a mobile number. I rang it. A well-spoken energetic man’s voice answered. “Hello! John White. Can I help you?”
“Er. Yes. I’m phoning about the advert.”
“Are you free-minded young and attractive? We are looking for a young woman with serve dinner tomorrow night and entertain us.”
“Yes! I’m 24 years old. I’m told I’m attractive and I’m up for some fun. Can you tell me more?”
“Yes, of course. Can you send me a photo now please; just a selfie and I will call you back.”
“I’ve just got up. I’m not really ready to take a photo.”
“That’s fine. Don’t worry. Just send one anyway.” And he hung up. I found one I’d taken last week at an exhibition I was working where I seduced the Sales Director, John. And what a wonderful three days that had been. (See Carrie’s Exhibition Stand)
The photo was me on the exhibition stand wearing the corporate outfit and looking pretty good, Immaculate make-up and hair high. The hair made me look like an efficient secretary, well an attractive office secretary.
The mobile burst into life and I clicked to accept. “Hi. Thanks for the photo” the voice said “Very nice. Now there are four
of us, all in our forties and pretty fit. We all have jobs in the city. We want a good looking girl to come and serve us dinner and then have some fun with us.”
“Sexual?” I interrupted
“Is that a problem? There’s £1500 for you and you’ll be home and tucked up in bed by midnight probably.”
I tried to sound calm, £1500. Wow that was really going to help towards my apartment purchase. “Yes. I might be up for that. Nothing rough though. OK?”
“Of course not. Now I will text the address and time etc. It’ll be around 7.30 we start but you can get in from 5 o’clock. In fact I’d like you to be there to greet us when we arrive at 7. It’s a hotel and the meal is delivered room service, so all you do is serve us.”
“Ok. What is your name? How do I know you will pay me?”
“Clipped, curt reply “I’m John, I said that when you first called. You will be paid; there is no doubt about that. £1500 in crisp £20 notes. Is that OK with you? Oh what size are you? There will be a uniform there ready for you” I told him I was a UK size 12 (I’ve got a good figure with good sized boobs, not a skinny flat chested model) and he hung up.
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