Smut Slam II – Get Two Free Tickets

Smut Slam II – Get Two Free Tickets

Smut Slam’s first – ever event in London SOLD OUT

Sh! is sponsoring prizes and – for the first time ever – judging in Smut Slam, so we are giving out two free tickets to a lucky winner!

This fast-paced storytelling open mic event is going at it again! Smut Slam is based on real life, real lust, real sex stories.
Join host Cameryn Moore on Wednesday, February 8, at 8pm at the Dogstar in Brixton (389 Coldharbour Ln, SW9 8LQ).

The theme for this SMUT SLAM is “Best Laid Plans,” you know, all those times when you thought you knew how it was going to go down. Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t, but come and find out EITHER WAY.  Or play at the Fuckbucket – a convenient and funnily named receptacle for all your anonymous questions and confessions!

Play on this raffle to get them for free!  But hey, if you know you MUST go, buy them at the door or here, for £10!

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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!’

Help Sh! write a sensual story!

Help Sh! write a sensual story!

Hey there lovely people!

Did you know that the 9th of August is Book Lovers Day?  Well, we are certainly lovers of some finely crafted erotica. So we’re going to celebrate in style with a sexy story.

Which we’d like you to write for us.

Here’s the deal. We will start you off with a few lines from Team Sh! (which we have slaved over for your erotic enjoyment). Then you add your line (or however much you like, write until your inspiration runs out) in the blog comments, hopefully by Tuesday we will have a full story straight from the Sh! hive mind.

And if you’re interested in writing something a little longer? Keep your eyes peeled for our upcoming Sh! September Stories Erotic Writing Competition.

 

‘It was raining hard when Ella emerged from Sh!, bag in hand. She’d never visited a, and even her own head she felt compelled to whisper the words, *sex shop* before. And now she had really, she glanced at the bag, really quite a lot of sex toys. She felt a flutter in her stomach that was part nerves part excitement…’ – CG

‘Although, the flutter in her stomach was nothing compared to the twitching that was going on in her down below. It was as if her muff had taken on a life of it’s own, twitching and clenching and…getting moist… She found herself blushing…’ – RD

‘Looking around in case anyone could tell how aroused she was she ducked into a bar get out of the rain to catch her breath. The bar was quiet & she felt comfortable enough to let her mind wander, inspired by the feelings between her legs…’ – AB

‘ … she ducked into the safety of the Ladies room, thankfully deserted. Carefully unpacking her purchases, Ella squeezed each one through the tissue-wrapping to identify the plaything she was looking for a hot pink rabbit...’ – KHjessica-rabbit-sh

‘…she found it and immediately felt an electric bolt in her c***, Ella’s
breathing became heavier and her imagination flew with the throbbing between her legs. Her hand dove down to her clit and gently started stroking herself, quickening and moaning, her muscles began to stiffen as the journey to the cresting wave was properly underway….’ – SW

 

Over to you: What happens next?

 

Travelling with sex toys: What are your best stories?

Travelling with sex toys: What are your best stories?

We’re launching our ‘Ooh By Je Joue Her Name Is Rio Pleasure Kit’ pleasure kit and it’s got us thinking about travelling with sex toys.

We’re also giving you a chance to win one of your very own so please enter here:

Ooh By Je Joue Her Name Is Rio Pleasure Kit – Sh! Giveaway

The Rio kit contains a motor and two different vibrating sleeves, so it’s super discreet and gives you options for your hot holiday fun. We hope you answered our poll on travelling with toys we also hope you’re ready to share all your embarrassing sex toy stories. To get you started here’s a few we’ve collected from Team Sh! and friends:

“After an exciting shopping trip to Sh! where my sister had stocked up on vibrators and lube, she was due to fly back home (she doesn’t live in the UK). All the goodies were neatly wrapped up in tissue paper and carefully placed in her carry-on (travelling with only hand luggage). However, once at Gatwick, airport staff were suspicious of the parcels, and made a big show of unwrapping them all in front of other travelers queuing up to have their bags checked. I don’t think she’s bought a vibrator since!”

“I was on my way back to the UK after a weekend in Berlin. Having attended a trade show, I had my bag full of free lube, condoms and sample sex toys. A stern German woman working in the airport stopped me and demanded I open my bag immediately. She took a long look at all the stuff I’d just thrown in my bag, and then, without a word, she closed the bag and just raised her eyebrows at me. My other half was mortified. :D”

“On returning from my time living in San Francisco my partner & I carried everything back with us. Having recently discovered my sexuality I had not let anything hold me back so we were laden with strap ons & other toys. The *pornographic* photos we had done however we did not want to get scrunched up in our checked in
luggage so brought in our hand luggage. As we were very young & punky looking we were *very* nervous we would be stopped, Can’t quite believe we weren’t!!
Phew!
A dildo or Vibe I can handle but my whole portfolio as it were  .  .  .”

“I was on a road trip with a few friends and I was suffering a bit of car trouble. One of the windscreen wipers was broken and flailing wildly. We thought if we could find a hair tie, or some string or an elastic band we could secure it to the other windscreen wiper and, temporarily, solve the problem. Sadly none of the above listed items were available. However, a quick search of the car did turn up a cock ring. Yes, my friends found my cock ring and we used it to fix my windscreen wiper. No, they have not every let me forget about this. They make me tell this story at parties.”

 

We’ve also had some great responses on Twitter:

 

 

Happy Birthday to Sh! – Read some of our best Sh! stories

Happy Birthday to Sh! – Read some of our best Sh! stories

Today is Sh’s 24th birthday! Since 1992 we have been helping women to enjoy happy, healthy sex lives.

A trip around London’s sex shops in the early 90’s revealed that women were simply not being catered to.  Sh! was founded with just Sh-in-the-beginning1-e1401788565304-_resized240x150£700 and the dream of creating an inviting space with clued-up, sensitive staff. Somewhere where women could shop for good quality erotic playthings without feeling awkward, unwelcome or embarrassed.

Described as “true pioneers” (The Observer Magazine) “ground-breaking” and “the best sex shop for women” (Time Out), Sh! is a welcoming, honest and informative enviroment, where women can comfortably talk about sex and sex toys.

Now we have 24 years experience, talking intimately to women about all aspects of sex and we’d say we’re experts in the field! We’ve advised thousands of ‘pre-orgasmic’ women, along with vagismus sufferers and survivors of cancer and rape and we continue to answer new questions every week. We also host Cafe V with the My Body Back project to provide a safe space for people to talk and learn about sex after sexual assault.

We’re very proud of our artisan handmade sex toys, our knowledgeable staff, our body safe products and our inclusive attitude.

Sh! Shop5Today we’d like to thank everyone who’s been a part of Sh! history and share with you some of our favourite Sh! moments.  If you have a Sh! story leave a comment or tweet us @ShWomenstore. Or you could visit us in store and grab some birthday cupcakes with the Sh! Team.

Renee our amazing shop manager shares some of her most memorable Sh! moments:

  • The customer who was so drunk, she decided to lean against the wall for a little rest… Only there was no wall there.
  • The shoplifter who tried to steal a vibe by placing it in her knickers…
  • The A-lister who said her equally famous boyfriend gave her “10 out of 10 for blow job”.
  • The woman who’d been told by doctors she’d never enjoy sex again – she called to say she’d had an orgasm!
  • Being invited to talk to a group of HIV+ / FGM women – beyond my wildest dreams when I started at Sh! 9 years ago… 
  • The man who emailed me a picture of his meat & two veg on a plate, covered in baked beans… There really was no need! #Memories

Ky our managing director also has some pretty memorable stories:

  • Hearing magistrate conclude ‘No case to answer’ whilst in court, accused by local council for running an unlicensed sex shop – Phew!
  • Putting that toy through the Xray machine at Downing Street = heart in mouth as I awaited imminent alarm & impending tussle with  floor MI5.
  • Being given the lesson, by a titled Lady, that #sextoys do NOT make good small talk at a Downing Street reception…
  • Live interview on Sky News. Put so much make-up on MD, I looked like #Trump.
  • The WHOLE warehouse emptied by thieves = Team tears, then giggles at idea of shifting 500 x stolen Sh! dildos down pub
  • Refusing phone call from ‘potential investor from Formula One’ Now, who could that have been…?

 

We’ve also got some memorable moments from the rest of the team!

Aphra – My most memorable Sh! moment was Sophie covered in red pigment coz ‘someone’ forgot to put the lid back on!

Sophie – My top moment was opening the doors of our best ever store in 1999.

Orsi –  The first day at the HQ, colourful dildos and cute puppy dogs all over the place. And kind of every time I tell someone I work for Sh!

Mandy –  If you work for Mail Order you have many memorable moments. Mine was when an 81 year old, elderly women called me to thank me for sending some extra batteries for her Sh! Easy Egg and that she needed some more. That gives me hope.

Kate –  The first time someone came back to the shop to personally thank me. The first time I cried with a customer while counselling. The first time someone told me, “Well madame, that’s a mean cuppa.”