And the Winner Is…

Thanks to all of you that sent in entries for the Funniest Sex Story contest. We had eight funny stories. They’ve all been read and the votes are in. Thanks to Shannon, Mike, and Janet, my amazing judges.

The Runner-Up is Sandi, who wins a special prize from the SecondHand TryptoGear store:

As a diligent public servant, I worked as a court clerk in a public safety building which consisted of only 2 stories. Rumors were rampant as police, fire, and the courts were all in 1 building, and well, boys will be boys. I kept my nose clean and my reputation cleaner refusing to “fish off my own pier.”

I had been dating someone in the legal field, which often brought them to the building several times a week. As our relationship intensified (got closer to having sex), one day 3 dozen long stem roses were delivered to my office, to celebrate our 3 weeks of dating and his 3 weeks of waiting. This of course caused quite a bit of ruckus in the rumor mill and secretaries to cops were putting out APB’s trying to figure out just what innocent little me could have done to receive 3 dozen roses.

Shortly thereafter, he arrived at my office with a single rose. He had paid his penance and waited quite gallantly. We used the NEVER used elevator since the building was only 2 stories, pushed the emergency stop button, and I began to show my appreciation for the flowers. However, a building full of firemen and cops that hear an emergency bell tend to come running quickly, and our episode was cut short. It was clear to the huge crowd when we exited the elevator either something of a sexual nature had/was going to happen or this young man had a subway sandwich in his pants.

Embarrassed highly – but not thwarted – our hormones took over once we entered my office just off the courtroom. It was a Tuesday, meaning no court, no judge, empty huge room with solid furniture. I slipped on the judges robe (why? who the fuck knows? I was horny) and we began to “make mad passionate rulings” right there on top of the judges mahogany bench.

I had the gavel in my hand and it was just insane crazy good shit, like when you haven’t eaten in a week and you eat a cracker. Yeah, damn good cracker. We were letting loose over a month’s worth of pent up sexual anxiety and tension and it was awesome. Well until the point the mayor and the local news crew with cameras rolling came thru the court room double doors and looked straight at us.

Yeah, apparently it was “student government day” and there was a high school boy shadowing the mayor and the stupid TV News thought that was a worthy story. As the mayor was showing this kid around his kingdom, I don’t think they thought they would run across a court clerk being pounded on the judges bench with cameras rolling.

Much to my pleasure, the local news was kind enough (paid off) and didn’t air the story. The guy I was dating sent more flowers but I just knew it would never be as good as it was that day so I dumped him. Plus, the mayor kind of said something about conflict of interest. Oh yeah, I had to have the judge’s robe cleaned and apologize …that sucked.

And the Winner of the $25 gift certificate from Eden Fantasys is…

Certifiable Princess! Congrats, CP. Here’s her story:

So there I was, minding my own business.

No. Really. I was.

“Minding my own business” is probably a very polite way of saying “so I was in front of the computer, getting myself off, when all of a sudden…”

Oh yeah. Like you don’t. Pffft. Whatever.

Let me take you back, back, back…way back, to a time before the hotband was in the picture. To a time when internet porn reigned supreme in my life, because frankly A) I was checking out women, not men, B) The ex was a little lacking in the “give it to me night and day, baby” department and finally C) I don’t know. I was bored, it was there.

Again. Don’t judge me. You know damn well you do it too. You just don’t admit it on your blogs.

So there I am, in my computer chair. No kids at home. No (ex) husband was home at the time. It was just me, my computer and my portable little friend, Buzz Lightyear.

*blinks* Yeah. Like you don’t have a name for your vibrators (and/or penises!).

Lawdy, so judgmental!

I am pullin’ up some sweetass lesbo porn, a few threesomes, some gangbangs, couple of upskirts…you know, your average male porn, except it was being enjoyed by me…a female. Isn’t that so erotic? *eye roll* (I can literally hear my hotband panting all the way from NYC) *snort* HONEY! You’ve heard this story already. Get over it.

Anyway, when I feel I am primed and supremely ready for the thrills to begin, CLICK! On goes Buzz Lightyear! Yes! TAKE ME THERE! To Infinity…and BEYOND! Mouse in the right hand, Buzz in my left (yes, I am ambidextrous. I am also sodium free and low in monotriglycerides) and going to funky town! Wee hoo! When all of a sudden…

*snap*

My nail breaks.

Now, most women would have ignored this completely and continued with their quest to find the honeypot, the top of the mountain, the promised land. Nope. Not me. I cannot bear to look at the brunette babe, spread-eagle in front of me, a vision of celluloid perfection…WHILE I AM SPORTING A BROKEN NAIL! No. The Jewish princess in me takes over. This simply will not do. I mean, come on. How tacky is this? I won’t even look at porn that has a poorly manicured or pedicured model. It’s not that I am a porn snob, it’s just that I am…well, okay, so I’m a porn snob. But if I expect the most from my porn, then dammit, I will be nothing less than perfect when I cum too!

I place Buzz down on my bare lap, pants down around my ankles and lean down to my purse to get out my nail glue.

SQUEEZE.

Nothing.

SQUEEZE.

Nothing.

*stab stab stab the top of the tube of glue with safety pin and SQQQQQQQUUUUUUUUUUEEEEEZE…*

SPLOOGE!

Crazy glue explodes everywhere. I drop my fingernail. Bends over to pick up said fingernail, gluing her extremely large tits to the crazy glue that has pooled in my lap.

“SHIT!” I exclaim.

“Bzzzzzzz,” replies Buzz Lightyear with a muffled cry from below my mammaries.

“HA!” snorts extremely hot brunette spread eagle on my computer screen. If she could be laughing at me, she would be.

“What the fuck could be worse than this,” I think aloud, while trying to dislodge her vibrator from between her nipple and her labia.

*sound of garage door opening*

“HOLY FUCK,” I shriek, and jump jump jump, bent over, ass out, tits glued to thighs, into my bathroom and turn on the shower.

“Honey,” says the (ex) husband, “are you here?”

“I’m in the shower,” I call back.

“But I’m here,” says the hot brunette still dangling on the computer screen.

Fuck.

It was sort of hard explaining to my (ex) husband why there was a naked woman on my computer monitor.

“There was??? Really???” I feign complete ignorance. “Oh my gosh, someone must have sent me a virus.”

*blink. blink*

After 8 years, I think the patch of skin on my upper thigh is finally the same color as the rest of my thigh. For a long time, I had a tell-tale dildo shaped white spot where my tan tore away in the shape of my vibrator.

I now refer to it as my “birthmark”. It’s this version of the story that allows me to keep my PTA membership intact.