story-copywriter-collectiveTell us a story
As a copywriter, storytelling is in your blood. You know how to take a dull brand and give it life. How to take a ho-hum product and make it irresistible. Copywriters just have a way with words. If you think you’ve got some pretty strong storytelling chops, then we’ve got a challenge for you. We want you to tell us a story, but not just any story.
Table of Contents
Copywriting competition is now closed… and the winner is: MARY!
The prize
The best story will be awarded a set of The Creativity Hub Rory’s Story Cubes to help you when you’re stuck trying to write your next masterpiece.
How to enter
Type your entry in the comments box below. We accept up to 5 entries per person.
Deadline
We’ll be accepting entries until the 11th of May, so get crafting the next great short story!
I saw him standing shirtless; the shape of his body and the hunger in his eyes told me he was ready. I noticed that the tip was about to enter her as he caressed her all over to get her juices flowing. I couldn’t take it anymore. I leaned forward and snatched the knife from his hands.
Quotidian Entanglement
“We are the planet’s oblivious little gut-monkeys,” she continued, looking up from her plate to gaze past her hand at me, slow butter cooling down the dangling fork from where the last asparagus had just slipped mouthward. “Tellurian bacteria, that’s all we are, gorging resources, churning waste, the inconsequential oblivious.”
The food was probably expensive, but we didn’t intend to pay, never had to, never did. When we had finally realised our place in the system, its place in us, and the liberty of pointlessness, we could stand up and the restaurant itself would leave. We might make love, or fuck for dessert; today she might want lesbian me, so I wouldn’t have a cock, okay, doesn’t matter now too.
The freedom of the unobserved came only to the unattached carefree, we found, and chances were high that the other diners would devour themselves to switch particles for our superposition.
“Shall we?”
Arthropod Abstinence
I hate that I can’t eat them anymore, what it does to me, how I hanker and hunger and the shame, oh! That delicious after-shame—even knowing an oyster-plate is chin-dribbling into the patently rutting couple at that corner table is already doing it to me, no, definitely just the salad please, waiter, thank you.
What Goes Around, Comes
“Fuck it”, soliloquised the ouroboros, caught between hunger and lust as it envied the mirror.
“73, your order is ready,” the sweaty teenage Taco Bell employee stated, gingerly extending the tray to the man. “Thank you,” the man replied, quickly taking the tray and sitting down at the nearest table. Soon after sitting, however, a woman, who had been waiting quietly near the counter, slowly approached the man. Her brunette hair loosely swayed as her hazel eyes locked with his, causing his jaws to freeze mid-bite. She stopped just short of the table, but her eyes never stopped staring, paralyzing the man further. Gently, the woman reached past the man to the tray on the table and scooped up an order of chips and dip. Before the man could swallow the lingering bite of chalupa and utter any protest, the woman’s lips gracefully parted and said, “That’s nacho cheese.”
LOL! Winner!
All the phallic unripe banana wanted to be was yellow, like his companion.
Hands Off
It’s MY chocolate dildo-cake.
I hate, hate, hate her. She’s so beautiful and she oozes sex like butter on hot toast.
So I am seated here again in the office cafe. Back facing the counter, face over looking the streets. I bet people thought I loved the view, no one knew exactly why I love this spot.
Look closely, can you see the reflection on the window? Yes, that is her and my rival. The way she places her lips against his always gets me. Her tongue tracing her lower lips as a smile creeps on. The way her teeth bites his, the glitter in her eyes as she slowly shuts them. Relishing the moment, you can feel the lust, the love and my jealousy.
How i wish I was that guy in her hands, kissing her lips, biting on her lower lip so tenderly. How i wish i could be the burger in her life.
He was pissed. My eyes shifted between meeting his, and the delicious pizza on my lap. I could tell he was moving closer to the door. This was it. He had me at an impossible crossroads: the pizza or him. The sound of the door slamming shut aligned perfectly with my first bite.
As he slipped his hand between her thighs, she leapt from her seat and knocked the hot soup straight into his lap. How he envied her speed as she fled and realized how long it would take to recover from third degree burns.
Anna
Anna was a lonely soul
A man’s touch she’d never known
Pity she is heavy, they’d say
She wished she could run away
Her heart had darkened
Filled with envy
She’s seen all those girls
Pursued by Henry
But she had a friend, you see
Her rusty knife she’d touch with glee
Slicing off a piece of lard
Wasn’t really all that hard
A piece of thigh, a slab of gut
Her beauty shone cut after cut
The crispy, slick fry was staring at her, bathed in its inviting oily juices. The crunchy skin was begging for a sweet pleasurable dip into the local ketchup pool. She stared at it through the hangover haze with a deep-felt hunger, as he grabbed the last comforting french fry while he distantly swiped his social feed.
Love is sharing your steak sensually with your lover and instantly regretting it afterwards.
She deepthroated the french fry as she stared enviously at the young girl’s beautiful curves.
His love for chocolate was unquestionable….until he saw him taking a bite of it out of her lips.
For sale: Barely-used Cucumber. Just found out wife has been getting her fill of vegetables from another gardener.
The Great British Bake Off.
He stared down the considerable cucumber crowing on her nightstand.
Oh god! Seriously? Is this cucumber envy I feel? She strokes her fingers slowly down the length of it and looks back at me with that sneaky smile of hers.
“You screw that carrot dildo more than me!” he sulked.
I burst into the bedroom and gasped. My lover was licking chocolatey goodness from between the breasts of another woman. “Hell no!!” I shouted, my face furious as I confronted him and yanked the jar of chocolate spread from his hands. “This is MINE!”
She looked at me, with a look of anger and disappointment, face redder than I’ve ever seen it before. She stood with every fabric of her being barely restraining the rage within.
“What?’ I asked.
“Is that my cucumber?” she interrogated, her voice shaking me down to my core. I somehow held firm.
The cucumber? Her cucumber? The cucumber that she laid under her pillow? The cucumber that she used to pleasure herself with every night, getting sick satisfaction from my impotent, longing gaze? The cucumber that still tasted of her, with both of their juices blending deliciously in my mouth?
I took another bite.
“Yes,” I replied. “It was.”
Melon juicy
Seafood slippery
Suggestively Spring
Mine, all mine.
Well, this isn’t original so I know it can’t win, but it’s such a perfect fit for the topic that I had to share it with everyone. Not all old people are the prudes you think they are, ya know? (OK, I did embellish it a little.)
Emma looked forward to the walk she took after breakfast each day with the widower from down the hall at the rest home. Although they were, you might say, a bit dried out, he seemed taken with her and she enjoyed making a special lunch to share with him as they sat on the bench by the lake.
Then one day, sitting there after eating the juicy peaches she had brought, he asked if she would mind just holding his penis. “I’m past the point of doing much else with it,” he said, “but it would feel very nice if you just held it.”
Emma thought it was kind of cute and gladly obliged; it became an endearing part of their daily routine…
…until one day, Edgar did not show up in the rec room after breakfast. She waited for over an hour before going back to her room, hoping he was not ill.
Three days passed in this way and Emma was becoming very concerned, but she knew she needed exercise so she decided to take their walk around the lake by herself.
As she approached the bench there on the side of the lake, she was sure that was Elmer she saw from the back…but it couldn’t be as there was a woman sitting beside him. She walked quietly by, but on glancing back, she saw that it WAS Elmer and he was sitting next to a woman who was HOLDING HIS PENIS! She was livid!
“Elmer, how could you?” she yelled. “I though what we had was special! I thought you truly cared for me! What’s going on here? I’ve faithfully packed your lunches; I’ve been here every day to walk with you; I’ve given you my heart and listened to the same dumb story you’ve told over and over for a year. I’ve even held your penis whenever you wanted me to. And now you’re here letting another woman hold your penis! What’s she got that I haven’t got?!?”
Elmer sheepishly looked up and simply uttered, “Parkinson’s.”
Soooo I’m drinking with this blonde girl just met on Tinder,
29 y.o. painter, pink car and long nails.
For unknown reasons, she needs to share with me the story of her ex, but promises it’s a good one.
The ex is a 32y.o. guy, tall, good car, informatical engineer, still living with his mother. (This was a nice HINT at the very beginning of the story, but I realized it only afterwards)
In short, they met on Tinder and after 5 dates still didn’t have sex.
One night they were sitting in the car and she starts wondering why he wouldn’t touch her. Shortly after, fueled by a very good wine bottle, she basically jumps on him with open legs. LITERALLY.
She’s quite hot and the “I-get-what-I-want” kind of girl, but our hero says:
“No, I don’t want to have sex in the car”.
“I wouldn’t mind that” she replies.
“But I do. Let’s go on a holiday together, we’ll have sex there”, he stoically says.
She accepts.
(WTF)
Before leaving, he sends her a 168-rows EXCEL SPREADSHEET with all the stuff he would bring for the weekend, with things like: “160 lumen portable led light”, or “Colgate blablabla toothpaste with at least 60% remaining paste”.
What does the blonde girl do in front of this evidence of folly?
She still goes on a fucking holiday with him!!
So they get to this little island and he says she needs to give him 50 bucks to share daily expenses.
She rolls her eyes, hands him 50$ and goes to the beach.
He joins her like an hour later wearing gym shoes, and socks.
The seagulls see him, start laughing and crash onto each other in an explosion of hollow bones and white feathers.
The girl pretends a fainting and ignores him for the whole afternoon.
Later, he informs her they would romantically go to the restaurant for dinner – of course splitting the bill!
Struck by existential distress, the girl goes to the damn restaurant and starts drinking wine, a LOT of wine, until she starts speaking: “You know, this holiday isn’t going at all like I had expected…”
And this is the point where he gives her the most epic answer ever given by an informatical engineer who could have fucked a hottie but is too nerd to realize how human beings work:
“I am quite disappointed too because you’re not like I expected at all and I’ve been with a very few girls in my life and you would ruin my average relationship quality”.
This wild mix of math and psychology gets dropped on her face like this, between a glass of wine and a starter.
She runs away and locks herself in the car.
He follows her.
She insults him.
He lays on the car and starts crying.
She lets him in and tells him they can still be friends.
Angered, he hits the dashboard.
The airbag explodes on his face.
The end.
A late summer afternoon. A cloudless blue sky stretching on, unending. A young, sinewy boy and a tender, voluptuous girl. Teenagers, laughing, running up the hillside behind her house. They climbed up into the tree, partially obscured from any views from others. She slowly untied her halter top, playfully exposing one breast, then the other. He leaned forward on his branch, licking his lips, feeling the pulsating tingle in his groin. He reached out and felt the firmness, the smoothness. She sighed as his fingers probed and tugged. He licked the skin, and then bit into the juiciest, sweetest apple he had ever known. She jumped down from the tree and ran with her untied top flapping behind her, cheeks red with anger. He had chosen his perfect apple. She would not offer herself to him again.
You already ordered. The deed is done. In fact, your food has arrived and is currently awaiting entrance to the motionless gate of your disappointed mouth. You stare longingly at the other dish – the one that doesn’t belong to you – it’s contents bursting forth, sauce dripping seductively onto the platter below. Your mouth waters and yearns for it – your every sensibility craving to indulge in this delectable temptation. You lick your lips in anticipated euphoria. But – this pleasure is not yours to taste. Your choice has already been made and there’s no turning back now. Jealousy burns your palate – unfulfilled, ungratified, discontented. You frown down upon your food selection. Good? Probably. As tasty as all the other options? Not likely.
The shy girl with the luminous eyes didn’t have to do much to capture my attention. She sat quietly eating a bowl of whole strawberries, savoring each juicy bite, while I envied the attention she was giving the berries instead of me.
The burning sensation jolted me off my seat and before I knew it, there was only us. All I could smell was the sweet scent of lust coming from his body. I couldn’t hold back my excitement. I pulled him closer to my lips as I sucked the juices from his flesh. I needed him. The thought of his fullness inside me left me craving (pleading even).
His raw, firm skin enters me.
As I lean into him one more time coming to another wet explosion, I was met with pure rage.
Right in the middle of my climax, there she was.
Standing.
Waiting.
With anger in her eyes as I still held him close. I had no choice but to let him go. He belonged to her. I guess I’ll never get another chance to taste that peach again. As if she needed it anyway. Skinny b****
Story didn’t load fully. Whole story resubmitted.
I’ve been eyeballing him for hours. The only thing standing between us was the one he belonged to. Little did she know, I was planning to make him mine before the end of the night. I envied her. Her curvy hips and small waist made me want to starve myself to death.
What’s this? She’s leaving?
The burning sensation jolted me off my seat and before I knew it, there was only us. All I could smell was the sweet scent of lust coming from his body. I couldn’t hold back my excitement. I pulled him closer to my lips as I sucked the juices from his flesh. I needed him. The thought of his fullness inside me left me craving (pleading even).
His raw, firm skin enters me.
As I lean into him one more time coming to another wet explosion, I was met with pure rage.
Right in the middle of my climax, there she was.
Standing.
Waiting.
With anger in her eyes as I still held him close. I had no choice but to let him go. He belonged to her. I guess I’ll never get another chance to taste that peach again. As if she needed it anyway. Skinny b****
Who won!?
Crickets…
Who won?