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Juicy Sex Stories Contest

I don’t enter many contests, writing or otherwise, and especially those that appear to be “popularity” contests (winners based on number of clicks, likes or ratings driven by how many of your blogging, Twitter and/or Facebook “friends” you can get to vote on you, since, hell, there’s a lot more people with a lot more followers and time to devote to that kind of vote garnering) but the lure of a $500 first prize from the Juicy Sex Stories erotica website was hard to pass up.  The fact that it appears to be actually judged, and in part by a blogger I admire and whose blog one of the first that I started following “way-back-when,” rather than just a popularity contest, only added to the allure. Then, when I went to the website and saw that it looked modern, classy, and well-run, in addition to be completely free to join, well, how could I resist?

Plus, did I mention a $500 first prize??

Okay, this is me we’re talking about here, though. Resisting things that I should do, or that are good for me, is one of my super-powers. And after last year’s rather spectacular one-a-month story submission rate, I have been in a bit of a writing slump.

Wait – did I say a “bit” of a writing slump?? Let me clarify that. I haven’t written even ONE piece of erotic fiction this year. Haven’t even looked at any Calls for Submissions.

Yes, it’s been somewhat self-imposed. We all know about my freakish-chaotic-stressful year-so-far. But even I was shocked to realize I hadn’t written one thing. So, way back at the beginning of May, when I saw this come across my email or my Google+ feed (I think via Molly’s Daily Kiss or Dangerous Lilly), I decided, “Yes! I’m going to do this!” The contest deadline was May 31st – I had plenty of time! Woo-hoo, start writing, Jade!!

So guess what I was doing Friday night, May 30th?

You guessed it.

You guessed it.

Oh wait, that’s not what I meant, this is:

See? I was writing.

See? I was writing.

Yeah, yeah, since I was writing over at W’s, I had to be in high heels. And yes, since he had apparently offered to do some “research” on asshooks (using my ass, not his own, go figure) I was in an asshook. And we, uh, had to take a mid-story “study break.”

But I got it done and submitted! My first story submission of the year, and it’s free for you to read over on Juicy Sex Stories (I don’t even think you have to be a member to read the contest submissions, but it’s free, so why not?) And no, I’m not begging or even asking for “votes.” Rate it, don’t rate it, whatever works for you. I just want ya’ll to get a chance to read the first erotica I’ve felt like writing in FOREVER.  Because you know what? I so appreciate you all sticking around through my recent chaos and my lack of blogging. Thank you for being here! :-D

Here’s an excerpt to “wet your whistle”:

From “The First Time Doesn’t Have to be the Last” by Jade Melisande

“Spread your legs,” Jack said.

 

I had seated myself across from him on the upstairs balcony, wineglass in hand, after handing him his gin and tonic. The air was muggy and thick, a typical summer evening in St. Louis; thunderheads gathering, threatening a storm. I wore a short summer dress, high-heeled, strappy sandals – and nothing else.

 

I glanced down anxiously through the balcony’s wrought-iron railings to the street below. In the early dusk it was still possible to look up from the street and see us clearly on the balcony. He saw my nervous glance down and met my eyes, waiting. I took a shaky breath and obeyed, spreading my knees apart for him, though I left the hem of the dress draped over my thighs.

 

“Wider,” he said, holding my gaze. “Hook your ankles behind the legs of the chair.” I did as I was told, spreading my legs wide, feeling my heart starting to race.

 

He took a swallow of his drink. “Lift your dress,” he continued. “I want to see your cunt.”

 

I hesitated a moment, then pulled the hem of my dress all the way up, exposing myself for him – and anyone else that happened to be looking up.

I KNOW you wanna find out what happened next – go on over and have a read on me! :-)

One Comment

  1. Well, as a guy you had me at “spread your legs”. Do mom’s know what they do when they raise and teach little girls to ALWAYS be good and keep their legs together? Oh the heartache of never capturing the elusive Beaver as a young lad. And, as an older married guy, had to get to my shop and finally build a spreader bar to overcome long gone mom’s good but limiting intentions. There is, after all, a time to be bad. And to, like that cop said: “Spread ‘em.”
    Great writing.

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