September Stories Winners

September Stories: Read FREE Erotica

Last week we published the winning story from our Sh! September Stories Erotic Writing Competition on the theme of ‘Sex Over 50’.

This week we’ve got some more fabulous erotica for your edification and delight. These stories are from our runners up Scandarella and Megan Barnett.

Thanks to everyone who took part!

Scandarella

 

The front door closed behind me with a sharp snick, and I waited. Two whole minutes passed before I sighed, kicked my shoes off, and headed for the stairs. The dining room door was open, and I avoided looking at the row of brightly coloured cards on the sideboard. All of those huge glittery pink 50’s made me sick.

I padded quietly up the narrow staircase, wondering if Jack would still be in a mood with me.

He felt like I’d been neglecting him lately, and had grown quite jealous of the book our daughter had bought me for my birthday.

He’d accused me of being obsessed with it that morning when he’d shuffled into the kitchen and found me reading it over my first coffee of the day. But what could I say, other than it was a damned good book! Still, he’d rolled his eyes at me and questioned what a married woman could possibly garner from reading a cheap novel that was aimed at sad, lonely women, and I’d retorted that the better question would be, what could a balding missionary position loving, fifty five year old man with a beer belly learn from it.

The door to our room swung silently open with a gentle push of my hand, and I heard a loud cry. Jack jumped up from the bed and shot across the room, staring at me like a rabbit caught in the headlights. He looked so sheepish, standing there by the window with his hands behind his back, it was all I could do to not laugh out loud. Not once in twenty five years of marriage had I seen him look so guilty.

“What have you been up to?” I asked, hanging my scarf on the little rail he’d screwed to the inside of the wardrobe door for that exact purpose. I loved scarves, and he bought me a new one every other month.

Stepping a bit closer to the wall he muttered, “Nothing. Well, nothing you need to worry about anyway.”

I opened my mouth to question him further, but he spoke over me. “Are you headed for a shower? You look all hot and bothered.”

I narrowed my eyes. He knew I showered after work whatever the weather, he didn’t need to ask. Something was amiss, but he was right, I was hot and bothered, and didn’t have the patience to get to the bottom of his shifty behaviour there and then.
“Yes, I am,” I sighed. “Did you feed Elspeth?”

The en suite door closed on his answer. I wasn’t being rude, I just didn’t need to hear it, because I knew he had fed the cat, and I knew the pot roast would be ready by the time I’d dried my hair. It was routine.

It didn’t take me long to shower, and I was soon back in the bedroom, blowing my greying hair all over the place, just to take the dampness off. I pulled on a loose dress and made my way to the door, pushing my wardrobe door closed as I passed. I could have sworn I’d closed it after I’d hung up my scarf.

Jack was in the kitchen, waiting for me. I was surprised to find him shirtless, but didn’t comment. Just as I was reaching for the fridge door, his hand wrapped around my wrist. I jumped, and stared at him like he’d lost his mind. What was he up to?
Silently, he drew me from the kitchen, straight into the dining room. I grimaced when I saw the cards strewn on the table. He must have finally decided it was time to put them away, though he was doing an untidy job of it. And he’d been drinking too, if the half full wine glass and bucket of ice was anything to go by.

Once I reached the table, Jack spun me around, and something soft and familiar brushed over my hand. It was my favourite scarf, the chiffon one with the little pandas on it.

He didn’t speak as he bound my wrists together, and neither did I. I was too stunned to form a sentence.

My eyes popped wide when he picked me up and lay me on the table, right on top of the cards. I knew immediately what I’d caught him doing when I’d entered our room, and a thrill of excitement ran through me. He tied the loose end of the scarf to one of the heavy chairs, giving me a look he hadn’t given me since our wedding night all those years ago.

Even though I knew it was coming, I still gasped when he lifted my dress to my neck, and despite my best efforts, I still cried out when I felt that first zing of coldness of an ice cube skimming my stomach.

Oh god, I knew this! This was the scene in chapter nine that I’d been reading before I’d left for work that morning. Jack had wanted to know what interested me so much, and now he did. He’d been reading my book when I’d come home, and he was showing me what he’d learned.

Each drip of the ice sent a shiver through me, and I tensed, knowing that its destination was my nipples. But to my surprise, the ice didn’t move up my body. It moved down, and stroked shockingly chill lines from my clitoris to my butt and back.
“Jesus, Jack!” I yelped. That yelp turned into a moan when I felt the freezing ice vanish, just to be replaced with a warm, wet tongue.

“Chapter twelve!” I gasped, widening my thighs while my husband sucked and licked. The ice cube was half melted now, but it still felt huge when he pushed it just inside of my vagina. His finger moved it around, his lips wrapped around my clit and he sucked harder, and I dug my heels into his back and had the strongest orgasm I’d had in years.

Jack straightened, and pushed the book toward me with a wet finger. “The pot roast will be ready in five, then for afters we’re having chapter nineteen. You’re right, it is a damned good book.”

 

 Megan BarnettErotic Books Post

Thirty years is a long time; a life time. We were so young, so full of wonder, and together we navigated this curious world. We scrimped and saved, we worked long days, and finally when the time came we were able to spend more of our days together. We satiated our appetites in all senses of the phrase: we travelled, we tried new cuisines, and we explored each other in every way we desired.

Time may have left its mark, but our naked bodies tell a story, each wrinkle an anecdote to be remembered. Over the years, I have learned to love my body, and how to love with it.

 

Like footprints we have made on our journey together, each caress, every touch has been etched into our skin, gone but never forgotten.

Tastes may change, but there are some things that you never grow out of. He knows that if he tilts my face to look into his with fingertips so light that they are barely touching me, that tingles will run down my skin, awakening my desire.

The smallest of gestures can spark the darkest of fires.

When we were younger, we were greedy; we would devour each other, hungrily feasting on our naked flesh, our inner beasts unleashed. He would take me roughly, grappling at my buttocks as he would thrust his throbbing member deep into my heated core. I would dig my nails into his back, urging him to go faster, harder, to send me to dizzying heights of pleasure.

Over time we learned that you can still enjoy the ride if you slow down the pace.

He is still firm with me, knowing that his purposeful grip is a give away for his desire. He still wants to touch me, to have me, to make love to me; this does nothing more than fuel the fire- to be desired after all this time is a highly arousing sentiment.

When he kisses my neck now, he savours the taste of my skin. He traces his kisses slowly down my chest, cupping my breast, excited by its fullness and bites at my nipple, sending the blood rushing to  my swelling bud.

He takes his time; he fondles each breast with appreciation, as if they were works of art, and he nibbles and sucks at my nipples in turn, swirling his hot tongue around them. I squirm and moan, my clitoris throbbing like a distant rhythmic drum.

He will trace more kisses down my stomach, which may be softer now, but his eyes will still drink me in and I can see the hunger lingers, but he wants to savour me. He will gently push my thighs apart and I will tense with anticipation, eager for the dam to burst but he will tease me. He will plant kisses up and down my thighs, lapping at them with his clever tongue.

The feeling as I tip over the edge will never change.

When he finally licks at my swollen bud I melt into ecstasy. As he explores my delicate skin with his mouth, he will slip a finger into my heated wetness, beckoning my orgasm with a come-hither gesture. He will listen to my body, respond as I writhe uncontrollably beneath his touch, and my hunger for him will grow and grow until it’s too much to bare.

Always eager, I will push him back on the bed, and I will snake my way down to his engorged erection. The sight of it, the size of it, it always turns me on.

As I take him between my lips, he will groan. I will slowly trace my tongue up and down his shaft, twirling it in tantalising circles, swirling it around the tip of his prick, the fire in my core pulsing. Hearing him moan and whisper my name will forever make me feel sexy, that I am capable of making him feel as good as he makes me.

As I suckle and lick on his shaft, I will massage his firming testicles and draw soft circles along his perineum with nimble fingers. Feeling his erection start to throb against my hot tongue, I can no longer wait for him.

I will lie back on the bed, my delicate skin in full bloom, inviting him to take me. Our hot mouths will crash, tongues exploring each other as he eases his engorged shaft inside me, inch by inch, and when we are fully as one I will groan.

With a slower pace than we may have once had, I can enjoy him more now, focus on the sensations rather than getting carried away. I still love the way his rock hard prick fills me up, how the weight of his body feels against me, but rather than demanding him to fuck me we find our rhythm and roll our hips in unison, and my orgasm will start to build, slowly but surely.

I will slip my hands up across his broad back, and down to his firm buttocks and push him deeper inside me. I will plant breathless kisses on his powerful arms as he thrusts a little harder inside me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge until I feel as if I might explode.

He will lay on his side, gently pulling my thigh towards him, and the gentle rhythm of our hips will pick up speed. Feeling more like stormy tides than gentle waves, it’s not long before we crash together in climax, chests heaving as we try to catch our breath.

We will stay entwined for a moment or two, drinking each other in, letting the world catch up with us.

Thirty years is a long time; time we have shared together. We still have time to share, moments to enjoy. The only difference now to all those years ago is that we don’t have to make the time for us any more: we have all the time in the world.

September Stories Winners

September Stories: The Winners

So this month we held our very own Erotic Writing Competition to help get you in the mood for our Essential Elements of Erotic Writing Workshop. The theme was ‘Sex Over 50’ and we noticed a definite couger vibe in the entries. If you’d like to hear the winning entries please come along to our FREE erotic event on Friday.

Thank you so much to everyone who entered, we really enjoyed reading all your entries and we’re very excited to announce our winners.

In first place Cherry Bare, for her story ‘Our Holiday Saga‘ which caused much merriment amongst the Sh! Team.

Scroll down to read her winning entry, what really won it was this classic line:

‘Well, I like sushi and saki, so maybe I should try bukaki….”

Find out more about her writing at  www.uksherka.com @Uksherka

Our second place award went to the wonderful Scandarella, we knew she could write a great sex toy review so it should be no surprise that her erotic writing was top notch.

You can check out her excellent reviews at www.scandarella.com or follow her on Twitter @ella_scandal

We’d also like to give an honorable mention to Megan Barnett @MooLoves for her story. You will be able to read both of the runners up in a blog post next week.

 

Our Holiday Saga – WINNER of the Sh! September Stories Competition

I rolled off Roger and fell back against the pillows, sated and content. He still had it, could still take me over the edge with those dextrous fingers, that eager tongue and his silky cock. Neither of us minded he needed a bit more help and time these days for his climaxes. He was in fine form for a man in his late 60s – god bless those little blue pills. As we relaxed I looked at my own 50-something body. My tits were still firm, stomach not too flabby. I knew that young guy next door looked at me when he thought I didn’t notice. Would his wife mind, I wondered. With two small children, she was probably too exhausted to care. I bet he watched MILF porn. Sometimes I’d watch MILF porn. My mind began to wander to youthful, broad shoulders, firm arms, tan, smooth chests, rock-hard abs and stiff cocks. Roger noticed I was getting activated again.

‘Shall I give you a toy, love?’ Such a thoughtful man, my Roger. I was off again.

It was a small ad at the back of the magazine, the print so tiny, I could hardly make it out. ‘Unforgettable holidays and cruises for over 50s’–that’s what I thought it meant to say. But what it actually said was ‘cruising’, as in ‘Come with us for an unforgettable holiday and cruising for over 50s’. They need a proof reader I thought. There was a web link for further info. The travel company was familiar to me, but I hadn’t noticed the ‘special interest’ tab before. Amidst the bird watching and foodie offers was something called ‘Fun For Over 50s’. ‘Prepare to let your senses explode’ was how the page began. It then continued in delicious detail on the ‘more info’ PDF. As I read I began to feel flush at what was on offer. Had a mainstream site really gone this much outside the box? Enquiring minds wanted to know. And so reasonably priced!
‘Wanna give this a go, dear?’ I said to Roger as he sat reading the paper at breakfast the next morning. I dropped the printed pdf into his lap, ‘accidentally’ brushing his cock. His face popped around the newspaper. ‘Hmmm….?’ I gestured for him to have a read. There was nothing for several minutes, then he put down his paper. ‘Intriguing,’ he said, ‘but it sounds like a lot of work.’ I tried not to look disappointed. After a pause he said, ‘Why don’t you go with your friends.’ Now it was my turn to say ‘Hmmm….? You understand it’s a two week package.’ I said. ‘Tell me all about it when you get back,’ and Roger went back to his reading. ‘You will be rewarded,’ I told him and began to formulate a plan.

Marcie’s 50th could provide, the perfect opportunity for a holiday— she was the last in our group to enter the Fab 50 club.

We’d serenade her through this key life event. If anybody needed a partner pass, they could simply say this was a girls-only affair. Which was certainly true.
To my delight the girls were completely up for it—even Sonia who blushed all the way through ‘Calendar Girls.’ I thought Linda might balk at the thought of leaving Stan behind, but she got the ball rolling. ‘I’m ordering package Number 3: ‘Twenty-four hour beach-side sex at your convenience. Includes meals and wine.’
‘They must be quite young if they can offer round-the-clock cock,’ Jenny mused. ‘I might do the ‘Up all night’ experience. I’d want to swim and read during the day and work on my tan. It still offers all-day cocktails.’
‘There’s a gym offering classes called ‘Sexercise’!’ Gaby exclaimed. I think I might check out the advanced level. Since I dumped Larry, I could use a good workout–though I am very tempted by package 11: ‘Loads of Bang for your Buck.’ I’ve always had a thing for drummers!!…’ We nodded our approval. I couldn’t help but feel pleased as we oooh’ed and ahhh’ed over the offerings, giggling and guffawing like schoolgirls.

‘I’m curious about package Number 4,’ Sonia said, surprising us all. ‘Really?’ Linda asked. ‘Are you sure that’s your thing, honey?’
‘Well, I like sushi and saki, so maybe I should try bukaki….Do you think I’d like it?’

‘You might want to choose something else,’ I advised. ‘It’s rather messy.’
‘There’s something called tarmacking…’
‘Even messier!’ I said. ‘Choose again.’
‘What are you going to have, Ange?’ Linda asked me. ‘This was your idea. I hope you’ve picked something fabulous.’ I had. ‘I’m going for the all-night double-dip delight, featuring chocolate and vanilla.’ The girls whooped in excitement.
We then turned to Marcie. She’d been studying the pamphlet intently and hadn’t been quite as exuberant as the others. I feared it was her Catholic upbringing still meddling with her mind and guilting her soul. ‘Marcie, birthday girl, what sounds good to you?’ I asked. ‘Don’t hold back. Choose whatever you like.’
‘I’m not completely sure,’ she stuttered. ‘A lot of this is new to me. Fred and I didn’t exactly experiment…’
‘That’s fine. You can now. That’s the whole point.’
‘Well,’ she said, taking a deep breath. ‘I’d really like to try bubble and squeak.’ There was a moment’s silence while we considered this.
‘Show us on the list.’ Linda said. ‘I don’t remember that option.’
Turns out she meant package Number 6: Slap and Tickle. There were appreciative murmurs all around. ‘I’m going to be the one slapping and tickling,’ she said. ‘Probably more.’
‘Well you’re the birthday girl,’ I said. ‘Your wish is their command.’
Marcie’s eyes were bright. ‘I’ve always wanted to wear boots. The ones that come up high with a heel…’
‘Like the ones we saw in Kinky Boots?’ Linda asked.
‘Yes! With tights and a corset. Maybe even a mask…’
‘Excellent choices,’ I said. ‘Anything else? A riding crop perhaps?’
‘Do you think I could have a pet while I’m there?’
‘You mean a dog or a cat….?’
‘No…but he would need a collar…and a lead…’
‘Go for it.’ Linda said. ‘You only live once!’ And we all cackled like hens.
‘50 is going to be so much fun!’ Marcie said, clapping her hands in glee. ‘It’s a whole new start! I can’t wait!
‘We have some presents for you,’ I said, ‘which might help you get through the wait. There was a rustling of wrapping paper.
‘Oh! A holster! With so many pockets….’

‘For all your new toys!’ We spent the rest of the afternoon sipping Prosecco, giggling about men and sex, and admiring Marcie’s gifts.

There were dildos, butt plugs, love balls, vibrators, tubes of lube, nipple clamps and much more–all the necessary goodies a woman needs to pass the time in a most pleasurable way.
We’re all packed and ready to go now. Roger’s taken us to the airport. In his best Mary Berry voice he’s told us to get our lady fingers good and soggy and says we must tell him all about our adventures on our return. ‘He’s such a star, your Roger,’ Linda tells me. ‘We should really give him a little something on our return.’
‘With enough Viagra I think he’d like that,’ I said winking. ‘He’d like that a lot!’

Enter our September Stories Erotic Writing Competition

Enter our September Stories Erotic Writing Competition

We have all kinds of exciting erotica events happening in September. We’ll be holding a workshop on writing erotica with the fabulous KD Grace and Kay Jaybee.

And before that we really think you should get in some practice.

That’s right, we’re asking you to send us your stories for our Erotic Writing Competition.

The theme will be ‘Sex Over 50’, so go wild with that, explore any and all avenues. We’re looking for around 1000 words but we won’t punish you if you are a little under or over.

Submissions should be sent to cassie@sh-womenstore.com with the subject line ‘September Stories’.

What do I get ?

We will, of course, be rewarding you for your stunning flights of erotic fancy. The first place winner will be published on our blog and in our newsletter (which goes out to over 6000 people) as well as on social media. And may also take part in one of our erotic readings.

And you get an actual prize to! We’ll give you a £15 Sh! voucher so you can extend your erotica collection and also a Sh! Cordless Wand Massager for when you need some less mental stimulation.

The second prize winner will also be mentioned in  our social media and receive a £15 Sh! voucher.

So get your fingers tapping and send us your inspired words, the competition is open to everyone, whether you’ve been previously published or never written a sensual word in your life.

 

The deadline for your entries is midnight on the 6th of September, which is Read A Book Day. Winners will be announced shortly after.