Date: Mon, 16 Apr 2012 06:54:57 -0700 (PDT)
From: Name Name <samajasan@yahoo.com>
Subject: Carried Away - 1

Carrie flopped down onto the grass and squirted some more water onto her
face. This would have cooled her off, except that after an hour and a half
of practice the bottle felt roughly like a refreshing pot of coffee. She
sat back up and sponged herself off with her jersey.

She looked over at Sara, laying in the scant shade of the nearby bench.

"Your mom's late. Again."

"I know." Sara didn't bother opening her eyes. They were the only ones ever
still at the fields this late.

Carrie sat down and started pulling up clumps of grass. It was so hot. She
pulled her shirt up and started fanning herself with it. After a few
minutes she noticed Sara looking at her. "What?"

The redhead smiled back at her. "Nothing"

"You were staring at me."

"That's impossible. I would have been blinded by the reflection off your
stomach."

"Bitch." But Carrie laughed, breaking her mock-offended face. "No, really,
why were you looking at me like that?"

Sara propped herself up onto her elbows. "I dunno. You're just really
pretty."

Carrie rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Anyways."

"No, I mean it!" She paused and looked down. "Did you ever think -"

She was interrupted by a car horn. They both turn and shaded their eyes
against the afternoon sun to see Sara's mom waving to them from a green
minivan.

As they gathered up their pads and shoes, cast off in the heat, Carrie
asked, "What were you saying?"

"Nothing. Forget it."

Carrie looked over at her best friend, but Sara didn't seem upset. By the
time she slid open the car door she'd forgotten all about it.

"How was practice?" Sara's mom asked as they pulled away.

"Fucking boring as hell" Sara replied, cranking the A/C to full.

"Sara! Language! It was Ôfucking boring as *heck*'"

Carrie smiled. Sara mom was awesome. Carrie always ended up chilling at
Sara's after practice, sometimes as late as eight or nine. She even had a
spare toothbrush there just in case she slept over. Miss J (as Carrie
called her) didn't seem to mind; she was the most laid back person on the
planet. The beads braided through her hair always made Carrie picture her
in the peace-corp, or lying on a rug at some Woodstock-like concert. The
contrast with her own mom, a strict woman always in business attire with a
smartphone glued to her ear, couldn't have been starker.

*****

"I call first" Sara said, referring to the shower. They were both sticky
with sweat. Sara's room had its own bathroom but the doorknob handle had
broken years ago. Now there was a hole where a knob should be and a chain
for a lock.

Carrie looked around the room as she listened to the plumbing churn on. It
hadn't been redecorated since Sara was 12. A pink and purple unicorn
bedspread lay crumpled at its foot and pop idol magazine pages formed
impromptu posters across the wall and ceiling. The only actual poster was
of Lady Gaga biting her finger hanging over the bed.

Carrie sat down at the desk and flipped open Sara's Mac. Her friend always
took over half an hour in the shower and Carrie got bored waiting. She
unconsciously started twisting her finger through her curly reddish-brown
hair. She wished she could have Sara's long, straight blonde hair, or even
her own mom's straight black hair (always in a tight bun). Instead she'd
somehow ended up with...this.

Hhe opened up Firefox and checked her email, facebook, etc. Nothing new. So
she clicked on the search bar and paused, her fingers over the keyboard,
wondering where to go.

That's when the autocomplete popped up. She started to scroll down it. Hey,
nifty.org. That sounded like a flash game sight. She'd go to the game Sara
had been to last.

Well, this wasn't a game. More like a story. Bo-ring. She was about to
close out and go searching again, but the first line caught her eye:

"I'd never fucked another girl before."

She started to read.

*****

Sara didn't understand people who took five minute showers. Showering was
not an inconvenience, it was a joy. She felt the water with her fingers,
standing on the rug in the chilly air, before finally stepping in and
pulling the curtain behind her.

Hair first. She washed, rinsed, and repeated, then did the same with the
conditioner.

Now body. Another thing she didn't understand was people who used loofahs
or washcloths to get the job done. Did they not enjoy the feeling of
rubbing the slick soap all over their skin? Did they not love the
incredibly sensuality? With a shower aide you scrubbed, but with hands you
caressed.

She splashed her face first, then moved down to her chest, rubbing the soap
all over herself. Her nipples hardened slightly at the attention, so she
spent a little more time there. Why shouldn't she feel good while she was
here?

More importantly, why shouldn't she be dirty while she was getting clean?

*****

Carrie closed out of Firefox and sat staring at her reflection in the blank
screen. What she'd just read...

She tried to put it out of her mind. She started to pace, and to
rationalize. Sara must have clicked a link on accident. It didn't mean
anything. Come on, this was her best friend she was thinking about
here. There's no way that she'd...

Or was there? Carrie slumped down against the wall beneath the
window. Sure, her friend could have clicked it on accident like she
had. But she could have been there on purpose. Not only that...

Carrie looked at the bathroom door, her eyes widening. Sara could have
*written* it! And if that was the case, then the two best friends in the
story...

She stood up again, holding her head in her hands as she paced more
quickly.

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god. My best friend is gay. My best friend wants
to fuck me. Oh god. What do I do?" Carrie was completely lost. She'd barely
even kissed a guy, and that was in fourth grade in a game of spin the
bottle.

She sat down on the bed, then let herself fall backwards. She took several
deep breaths and tried to think it over calmly. She reminded herself that
she didn't know anything. That it could have been a joke sent from a
friend. Or that she accidentally clicked it in some forum about...something
not gay at all.

And...and so what if Sara was gay? Would that be the end of the world?
Carrie didn't care one way or another, as long as they could still be
friends. I mean, the two girls in the story weren't necessarily...

She thought about it some more. No. Those two girls definitely fucked each
other in like five different ways. If Sara had read this, not to mention if
she'd written it, then she'd probably at least considered that they
might...

She took several more deep breaths and closed her eyes. What if Sara were
to start coming on to her? She would...she would just have to say no as
gently as possible. That she, Carrie, did not swing that way. That she was
all about...

Or was she? As much as she wanted not to admit it, she had in fact read the
entire thing. Did that mean something? She could have stopped halfway
through, or even at the first sentence!

Well curiosity wasn't a sin. She'd never really thought about girl on girl
before. No sense in censoring herself over something so natural, right? She
was a teenager, she deserved the right to experiment.

Question. Question. Not experiment. She had no intention of following
through on anything in that story, no matter how...ok, so the third part
would probably hurt. A lot. But she could take that. But did she want to?

She pondered...

*****

Sara had to grip the shower curtain slightly to keep from slipping. She
loved rubbing herself, but she'd long since abandoned the hand for the
showerhead. It said on the side that it was "variable pressure", but this
reallt meant a choice between a gently caress and a jackhammer. She had
once tried the latter and couldn't walk for an hour. But even the gentler
pressure did do the job admirably. She sighed and bit her knuckle, like she
always did when she felt this good. She bit harder as she came a second
time. She didn't have explosive orgasms like in pornos. Hers were small but
frequent. She'd had as many as eleven in less than ten minutes once, but
that had been a very special occasion.

She finally pulled it away. She didn't want to go too long and make Carrie
suspicious. Lately she always had to get herself off before spending time
with her friend, ever since the incident a few months ago. She'd woken up
in the middle of the night from a beautifully good wet dream...to realize
she'd been humping Carrie the entire time. Thank god the other girl was a
hard sleeper. Yes, since then she always made sure she'd not be too horny
when in the same bed as her best friend.

Sara stepped out of the shower and dried herself off, trying not to think
of what would happen if she let herself go again.

*****

Dinner seemed to pass by Carrie in a blur. She tried as hard as possible to
behave normally, but it was a constant struggle. She couldn't help but
notice the way Sara's hand brushed against hers when they both reached for
a plate, or how she coyly smiled at some offhand comment. Carrie was just
thinking about Sara's skirt -

"Are you ok?"

Carrie shook herself and looked over. Sara's mom was looking at her with
her eyebrows furrowed in concern. "You're as red as a beet. Are you getting
a fever?"

Carrie blushed some more. "No, I'm ok Miss J." She avoided looking at her
friend, sure there would be a knowing smile playing across her lips.

"Well I don't want you to catch a fever or anything. You girls go get ready
for bed, I'll clean up"

Sara thanked her mom with a kiss on the cheek, then ran upstairs. Carrie
followed more sedately, purposely not looking up, afraid of seeing too much
of her friend on the way.

When she had finished brushing her teeth, she walked into the bedroom to
find Sara already spread across it, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt
featuring the UK flag patterned across it. Any other day this would have
been routine, but now Carrie couldn't help breathing hard at the thought of
sharing the bed. She tried to relax, to remind herself that they had done
this a hundred times, but it was hard not to stare at how closely Sara's
thin shirt clung around her chest.

Sara looked up from her magazine and smiled. "Took you long enough. I'm
never that quiet when I masturbate." Sara's smile slipped at Carrie's
horrified blush. "I was kidding! I know you weren't...um...were you? It's
ok-"

"No!" It came out louder than Carrie intended. "No. I wasn't. It's just..."

"What?"

"Nothing". What could she say? Sara always made jokes like that, and it
wasn't that Carrie was offended by them or anything. It had just struck a
nerve this time because that was exactly what she had been thinking about
the entire time. "It's fine. I guess I'm just feeling a little off"

"That time of the month?"

"Something like that. Now turn around, I need to change"

Sara obediently rolled over, but with that roll of the eyes as always. Sara
wasn't embarrassed to do anything in front of her best friend, but Carrie
had always been a little more conservative. Just a product of upbringing,
she assumed.

Finally, Sara felt her friend tug the covers over and crawl into bed
alongside, so she reached over to turn out the light.

*****

Carrie resolutely closed her eyes and tried to relax. She had rebuffed any
attempts at late-night talking with the ready-made "I'm not feeling well",
so Sara had rolled to face away.

Carrie felt herself relax and drift off towards sleep. The wind chimes
outside serenaded her, and she felt the wind tug lightly at her sheets.

She rolled over to see Sara watching her. Without a sound, Sara leaned
forward. Their lips met softly as her friend climbed on top of her. Carrie
ran her hands along Sara's back and down to stroke her legs.

Sara kissed her way down Carrie's neck and down her bare chest. Finally,
just like in the story, she slowly parted Carrie's legs and began to run
her tongue along the bare lips exposed beneath.

Carrie began to breath harder, running her fingers through Sara's straight
brown hair. The smell of her strawberry shampoo filled her nostrils every
time she took a gasping breath.

She felt herself getting closer, but resolutely remained silent. It was as
if this were a magic moment, and would shatter as soon as she opened her
lips.

But soon she couldn't take it anymore, and with a strangely moan she began
to cum-

"Carrie!"

Her eyes snapped open to find Sara leaning over her. She felt an urge to
pull her close again, but resisted as she became more and more awake. Both
shirts were still on, meaning...

"You were having some kind of nightmare. You were kicking around and
writhing, and then you started to moan. Was it something scary?"

Carrie's mind struggled to process, to pull itself awake. She ran her hand
along her belly under the covers until it came to a rest atop her still-wet
panties. Ah, so it had been real. Then why was Sara acting so weird?
Unless...

She sat up suddenly, now fully awake. It had all been a dream, meaning Sara
didn't know anything but might soon smell that telltale scent. She shook
herself and looked over at Sara's face, barely visible in the
moonlight. "Yeah...it was a dream. I'm sorry, go back to bed. I'm gonna
go...go get something for my stomach."

Sara still looked worried, but Carrie quickly pushed over the covers and
bolted out the door.

*****

Diana Jackson looked up from her book when she heard a door snap shut
quietly followed by soft footsteps creaking their way down the stairs. She
placed a bookmark and stood, tying her robe around herself. Was it her
daughter? No, more likely Carrie was feeling sick again. Poor thing.

She found Carrie in the laundry room, crying softly to herself. The young
girl looked up as Diana knocked gently on the door, then hastily brushed
away her tears on her sleeve.

Diana smiled and moved to sit beside her. "What's the matter, dear? Why are
you down here? You still feeling bad?"

With a sob, Carrie flung herself onto the older woman's lap and began to
cry. Diana stroked her hair and made soothing noises, knowing there was no
point in asking.

Finally, Carrie pulled herself up and looked away. "I'm sorry, Miss J. I
just..." She held up a pair of panties, obviously moist. "I must have peed
a little before I woke myself up to stop. I came here wash them off before
Sara found out, but I...I've never washed clothes before. My mom always
does that." She smiled sheepishly, using her spare hand to keep her shirt
almost to her knees.

"Oh dear. Well, that's all right. You're secret's safe with me. Here, let
me have those and I'll wash them for you." She reached out but Carrie
pulled them away. Diana left her hand waiting and finally, reluctantly, the
teen placed them in her palm. "They'll be ready in the morning. In the
meantime, here" She dug around in a nearby laundry bin and pulled out one
of Sara's cotton pairs. "Put these on and go back to bed."

Carrie enveloped her friend's mother in a tight hug. "Thank you so
much. You...you always know what to do." Then she left the room, wiping her
eyes on her sleeve.

Diana waited until she heard the pitter patter fade and the upstairs door
close before she sat down and tentatively brought the wet panties to her
nose. Aha. She had been suspicious but now she was sure.

She was about to stand up and toss them in the washing machine, but the
scent stirred her memory. It brought back flashes of college days, of long
hair and smooth skin running beneath her. She knew it was wrong...but she
brought them up again and inhaled deeply.

Laying back, she tugged at the knot on her robe to let it fall back and
reveal her bare form. She closed her eyes and ran a finger slowly down her
naked body. She skirted her clit experimentally and felt it throb in
return.

Then she sat up and opened the washer door with a bang. If Carrie was still
awake, she would no doubt wonder why it wasn't running. Silly of her,
really, letting herself get caught up like that. And it was wrong, smelling
a young girl's...well, it was wrong.

She threw in the detergent and pressed a few buttons to get the machine
running. It was an older model, and began to whir and shake as it started.

Diana took a deep breath and leaned forward over the machine, trying to use
those breathing techniques from yoga to calm herself. But as she took a
breath, her bare tummy pushed against the washer. The chill was shocking,
but the vibrations...she let herself fall forward and just absorb
everything.

After a minute, she gave up and pulled herself up atop the machine. The
sudden chill thrilled her almost as much as the vibrations and soon she was
rubbing her clit quickly. It had been...well, not weeks, but days at least
since she had allowed herself to let go like this. She deserved a break
from such admirable self-control.

Soon she inserted one...then two...then three fingers into her wet
pussy. She bit her lip, but then realizing the machine was very loud...she
let herself begin to moan.

The machine change cycles, and the sudden increase doubled Diana over. She
let out a scream, no longer able to care who heard, and came harder than
she had since her husband's death.

It passed over her in waves until she had to slide off the machine to stop
from being overwhelmed. The drop caught her off guard and her shaky knees
gave way to drop her onto a pile of dirty clothes. Unable to move, she
basked and let her eyelids drop.

She woke to the alarm on the machine. She quickly scrambled up and found
her robe, which had somehow slipped off in all the excitement. Quickly she
moved the single-article load into the dryer and set it running, then
straightened her hair and left the room. It was time for bed.



E-mail me at samajasan@yahoo.com with comments! I have some ideas where
it's going, so expect future installments.