Which is worth repeating. My unfortunate experimental boyfriend and I became volunteers in this difficult task. I warn you right away: no one was harmed during the experiments.
"9/2 weeks"
Let's start with the simplest. The day before we bought groceries (fruits, vegetables, milk - how could we live without it). They didn’t forget about the chicken either - sex is sex, but you still want to eat normally. We turned on the music, dimmed the lights in the kitchen and started cooking. We drank a little wine for courage and sat down on the floor (we had to lay down a blanket - only Basinger With Rourke It can be hot on a cold floor). And here I am, blindfolded, trying to guess what I’m chewing this time. While I ate rice that flew in all directions, chicken and tomatoes that stung my chapped lips, everything was not so bad - even very fun. Only things didn’t work out with the banana (oddly enough), my boyfriend gave it to me right after the wasabi, which I mistook for ketchup, so my tears flowed and it was hard to breathe (and even harder to sexually absorb a banana). After that, I freaked out and ran to drink water instead of milk. We never got to the cream. The experiment failed.
"Temptation"
After an unsuccessful dinner (we decided not to be upset and continue) we moved to the bath. Of course, I was prepared. I bought aromatic oils and salts from Lush and poured out almost a liter of foam. Angelina With Banderas True, we were just basking in muddy water, but we are in the 21st century! We decided not to rush and relax: after all, the end working week– a bath with oils is just right. In the end, the water did not overflow from the banks (they decided to save the finale for the bedroom), but the foreplay in the bathroom was a very exciting process. Only here, too, everything did not go very smoothly. After some time, my beloved turned red (I thought he was hot) and began to itch. We never found out what he was allergic to: candles, oils or salt...
"40 days, 40 nights"
No, I didn’t force him to abstain for 40 days - that would have been too cruel. We just decided to repeat famous stage with a flower. We found a lily (after making sure that he was not allergic) and began research. This time we did without scented candles (we took regular ones). Now you could calmly sit on the bed, and not on the floor. Our only tactile action happened at the very beginning - a couple of kisses, then a plant was used (no hands - that’s the condition). I'm a sensitive person, so it was a pleasant feeling. To enhance the effect, he began to talk to me - voicing what we usually do without the intervention of flowers and food. It worked. Firstly, you are torn with desire, and secondly, a flower that moves to the most unexpected places teases you even more. At some point, I stopped coping with the excitement and again spat on the experiment (apparently, this scene should have been mixed with “50 Shades of Gray” and tied my hands). The flower was mercilessly crushed, and it all ended with sex (one of the best, it seems).
"Bitter Moon"
My leather coat had been collecting dust for a long time, I borrowed the handcuffs from a friend who runs a sex column in one publication, and instead of tape I had to use a gag - I regretted it so that it wouldn’t hurt to tear it off. I didn’t specifically show him this scene in advance, I just told him briefly. It was important to sit the test subject (prisoner) on a chair and create an atmosphere of anticipation. In the end, I turned on the music (it’s better to choose not so much sexy as hard - something from Rammstein quite suitable, I’m not kidding) and went into the room. The heroine has a goal "Bitter Moon" was simple: visually arouse her lover so that he becomes angry that he cannot say anything or touch her. So the raincoat, the new underwear underneath and the crazy dance (the crazier the movements, the sexier, so no smooth curves) did their job. During the second chorus, he hummed something intensely, but I still didn’t hear it. As a result, I got involved in this game and made fun of him a little more (without touching) during the second song. The culmination was an overturned chair (he hit his head, for which the next day I tearfully asked for forgiveness) and not too long, but intense sex.
"50 shades of grey"
The next stage is transformation into Christian Gray. I must say that my future dominant was a lot of embarrassment. But when I brought home the stack and clamps with a chain (this is a thing with belts for the neck, arms and legs), I was inspired. Then I already became scared. Still, no matter what age you are, such “toys” put a lot of pressure on your psyche. At some point, you really notice that he’s gone wild with the stack (slaps harder), but you can’t do anything. In addition, we forgot about the safe word, so we agreed that if we decide again (I feel like New Year I will have a stack as a gift Pink colour...), then approach this more seriously.
Oddly enough, this experiment also went quite successfully. Apart from the fact that I walked around with bruises on my butt for another week and pulled my wrists... The next day I had to rub them "Fastum-gel".
"The Astronaut's Wife"
It’s strange, but we were happy to undertake this experiment. Sex in public place. It happened at the restaurant that our friends booked for their wedding. I decided to immediately make the task easier - I put on a short light dress(it’s good that it was still warm then and tights were not needed). Now we just had to wait for the right moment. When everyone was already tipsy (like us), he hinted: let’s go and look for a place. The wardrobe was closed, someone constantly went out onto the veranda to smoke, and it got colder in the evening. There was only a toilet left, thank God it looked decent. To avoid privacy in the booth, we decided to close front door- let them break in. I think we even
As far as we know, there are no deleted scenes in the film called 5O Shades of Gray, and what is not included in the film is simply unnecessary material, and not erotic scenes, as many viewers of this film hope.
The series seemed to be shown without cuts, that is, everything that was filmed was included in the full length.
In the story of the two heroes, all the love scenes were shown, the film had already been released and there was a review of the film and the director’s story about how it was filmed and whether there were cut scenes, but nowhere was it said that there were cut scenes somewhere.
This is a very frank film and there were probably some shots at the filming stage that should not be shown to audiences in cinemas.
But surprisingly, not a single scene from the film 50 Shades of Gray will be cut, since almost all film qualification councils accepted it in this form.
The only thing is that the film 50 Shades of Gray has been given the status of a film for adults and will be shown abroad in special cinemas for adults.
But we don’t have such cinemas, so the film 50 Shades of Gray will be shown in regular cinemas, only limited to 16 years.
There is one website on the Internet clipiki/Fifty-Shades-of-Grey-2015, where this film is presented in good quality and with dubbed translation (non-Russian subtitles only). The duration of the film is 2 hours and 3 seconds. I can’t say exactly how long the director’s cut runs (and how long it is in Russian cinemas), but in this version there are more than 5 erotic scenes of different nature(not just bedding).
At least for now you won't find anything better anywhere. View and download for free. It is possible that if the author's version of 50 Shades of Gray appears without cuts, then it may also be on this site.
The film has already been released and you can easily watch it on the Internet. There seem to be no cut scenes in the film. The film is intended for ages 16 and up. Apparently there were no pornographic scenes. The remake of the film will most likely be for adults.
Nowhere. They are not there. The film that will be released now will be censored, there will be nothing pornographic in it, so there is no point in searching. But then they will make a remake and it will be in the R genre, which means uncensored, a film with pornography, I think it will be better to wait for it.
There are no deleted scenes in the film, but viewers under 16 years of age cannot attend the cinema.
Although, as practice shows, it is quite easy to get into our cinema hall in Russia, Belarus, Ukraine, even at 13)
The Internet is full of messages about the fact that a lot of things were censored in the film 50 Shades of Gray. Rumor has it that there is a director's cut with these scenes. I think that if such a thing exists, we will see it no earlier than the end of the screening of this film in cinemas.
There was already a similar situation with the film Twilight. A lot of scenes were cut, but then they released a collection of all parts with an addition. The addition was a video with the director's comments and these very cut scenes.
So we wait. Perhaps 50 Shades of Gray will have a similar edition.
For example, I downloaded 2 versions of this film. The first one was of terrible quality - and there were cut scenes - well, that is, not those that were cut during filming, but those that were simply not filmed by the person who posted the film. The hands of the person filming were moving, the dialogues were breaking off and disappearing - but in this poor quality was a short continuation of the scene with ice - the one that was in the book.
But the version that I downloaded later is already there there was no continuation of this ice scene(that is, they probably never showed it in the cinema) - but the quality was much better than the first version and the dialogues were not cut off.
After searching the net a little, I finally found information that the most explicit scenes, which were previewed in a number of trailers, did not actually make it into the final cut of 50 Shades of Gray.
That is why, in Russia, the film directed by Sam Taylor-Johnson based on the novel by British writer Erica Leonard James was assigned only an age rating of 16+, that is, responsible officials from the Russian Ministry of Culture, the Research Institute of Cinematography, etc., believe that there is moral harm This movie has no impact on 17 year olds.
Well, they're probably right. But the excitement around the deleted scenes will continue for a long time, and perhaps some of them will soon leak onto the Internet. In the meantime, to all lovers of beautiful and good story love, it’s worth watching the existing version, or better yet, rereading the book itself together with your other half.
I look around the bar nervously. He's nowhere to be found.
Ana, what happened? It was like you saw a ghost.
Christian, he's here.
Mom also starts looking around.
I don't want to tell her about Christian's obsession with surveillance.
I see him. As he walks towards us, my heart literally jumps out of my chest. He's here because of me. My inner goddess jumps up from the couch screaming with joy. Christian makes his way through the crowd, his hair glowing a burnished reddish copper in the halogen lights. Bright gray eyes sparkle with... anger? The lips are compressed, the lower jaw is tense. Good God... Just now I was ready to kill him, and here he is. How will I quarrel with him in front of my mother?
Christian comes up to the table and looks into my eyes warily. He is wearing a simple linen shirt and jeans.
“Hello,” I say, unable to hide my shock and delight.
“Hi,” he replies, leaning over and unexpectedly kissing me on the cheek.
Christian, this is my mom, Carla, I say. Education takes over.
He turns around.
Mrs. Adams, nice to meet you.
How did he know her last name? Christian gives Carla his signature disarming smile, which is impossible to resist. She doesn't even try. Mom’s lower jaw almost hits the tabletop. Oh my God, Mom, pull yourself together! She silently squeezes his outstretched palm. Is it really our family trait to be speechless in moments of shock?
Christian,” she finally exhales.
He smiles knowingly at her, sparkles dancing in his gray eyes. I frown at them both.
What are you doing here?
Perhaps I ask more harshly than I intended, and his smile fades and a worried expression appears on his face. My heart rejoices, but I am shocked, and the memory of Mrs. Robinson makes my blood boil. I don't know what I want more: yell at him or hug him, and I don't know what Christian wants. I wonder, by the way, how long he's been watching us? I'm also worried about my last letter.
“I decided to say hello to you,” Christian says serenely. What is he thinking about? - I live in this hotel.
At the hotel? “I’m bleating like a sophomore on amphetamines.”
Yesterday you wrote that you wanted to see me. - He falls silent, assessing the impression made. - Our goal is to please the client, Miss Steele.
Is he completely crazy? Perhaps I shouldn't have said that about Mrs. Robinson? Or is it all about my third (and fourth on the way) Cosmo?
Mom looks at us with concern.
Will you have a drink with us, Christian? - She waves to the waiter, who appears at the table a nanosecond later.
Gin and tonic, says Christian. - “Hendrix”, and if not, then “Bombay Sapphire”. In the first case with cucumber, in the second - with lime.
Holy shit... he manages to put on a show just by ordering a cocktail.
And two more Cosmos,” I add, stealing a glance at Christian. Don't I have the right to drink with my own mother?
Sit down, Christian.
Thank you, Mrs. Adams.
He gracefully pulls up a chair and sits next to me.
So, did you happen to be in the bar of that hotel where we went? - I try my best to feign serenity.
No, you accidentally walked into the bar of the hotel where I live,” Christian answers without blinking an eye. - I just had lunch, went downstairs, and here you are. There are coincidences! “He tilts his head to the side, and I notice a hint of a smile in his eyes. Thank God, perhaps all is not lost yet.
This morning we went shopping, sunbathed on the beach after lunch, and in the evening we decided to go to a bar,” I mutter, realizing that from the outside it may seem like I’m making excuses.
Did you also buy this top this morning? - He nods at the new branded blouse made of green silk. - The color suits you. And you managed to get a tan. You look amazing.
I blush, not knowing how to respond to the compliment.
Christian takes my hand, squeezes it gently and moves it back and forth. thumb. I feel a familiar tightness. An electrical discharge penetrates the skin, ignites the blood, which spreads heat to all corners of the body. We haven't seen each other for more than two days. Oh god... I want him. Breathing quickens. I blink, shyly smile at Christian and see his perfectly sculpted lips part in a smile.
I thought I would surprise you, Anastasia, but, as usual, it was you who surprised me by being here.
Looking sideways at my mother, I notice that she is not taking her eyes off Christian. That's enough, mom! Christian is not an exotic animal. I understand that I have never had a boyfriend, and Christian can only be called a boyfriend - but is it really so difficult to realize that I managed to attract such a man? “This man? It wouldn’t be difficult, just look at him,” the subconscious snaps. Shut up, they're not asking you!
I do not want to disturb you. Now I’ll finish my drink and run away. “I have things to do,” Christian states firmly.
Christian, I’m very glad that we met,” Mom finds her voice. - Ana spoke about you with such love.
Christian raises an eyebrow, a pleased expression on his face, and I blush again.
The waiter comes up with drinks.
“Hendrix, sir,” he proclaims forcefully.
Thank you,” Christian says.
I nervously sip my Cosmo.
How long have you been in Georgia? - asks mom.
Since Friday, Mrs. Adams.
Would you like to have dinner with us tomorrow? And please call me Carla.
My pleasure, Carla.
That's good. Sorry, I'll be gone for a while, I need to powder my nose.
Mom, you just came from there! I look after her in despair.
So, you're mad that I had dinner with an old friend. - Christian turns his burning gaze to me, takes my hand and gently kisses each finger.
God, not here!
Yes, I’m angry,” I whisper, and the blood is thundering in my temples.
Our close relationship with her goes back a long way, Anastasia,” he says quietly. - I need only you. When will you understand this?
I blink.
She's a molester. - Waiting for his answer, I stop breathing.
Christian turns pale.
“You’re too subjective, in reality everything is wrong,” he whispers, releasing my hand.
Am I being subjective?
Then explain. “Cosmo” gives me courage.
He furrows his eyebrows.
I continue:
She dragged a fifteen year old boy into bed. If you were an innocent girl, and she was a grown man who involved you in sadomasochistic games, how would you look at it? If it were Mia in your place?
Christian frowns.
Ana, it's not like that.
I stare at him.
Understand, everything was different for me,” he says calmly. - There was no violence in our relationship.
I don't understand. - It’s my turn to be surprised.
Anastasia, your mother will be back soon. It’s hardly worth discussing this topic in front of her. Perhaps later. If you want me to leave, I'll leave, my plane is waiting on Hilton Head.
He got angry... oh no!
Do not leave me please! I'm so happy you came. Understand, I'm angry that you're having dinner with her when I'm not around. Remember how you lose your temper when Jose appears on the horizon! But he’s just a friend, and we’ve never been lovers, whereas you and her... - I fall silent, not wanting to develop this thought further.
Are you jealous? - He looks at me in amazement, his eyes warm.
Yes, and I hate her for what she did to you.
Anastasia, she helped me, I won’t say anything more. As for jealousy, take my place. For the past seven years I have not allowed anyone to discuss my actions. No one in the world. I'm used to doing as I see fit. I value my independence. I didn't invite Mrs. Robinson to dinner to upset you. From time to time we have dinner together. She is my friend and business partner.
Business partner? This is something new.
Christian observes the effect his words have on me.
Yes, business partner. Our close relationship is in the past.
Why did you break up?
Christian purses his lips, his eyes sparkling.
Her husband found out.
Damn it!
Let's discuss this at another time, more suitable place, - he throws out irritably.
It is unlikely that you will be able to convince me that she is not prone to pedophilia.
I do not and never have considered her a pervert. And enough about that! Christian barks.
Did you love her?
Are you bored?
Mom's arrival takes us by surprise.
We both smile forcedly, and I sharply lean back in my chair. I feel guilty.
Mom looks at me intently.
Christian silently sips his cocktail, not taking his eyes off me. The facial expression is alarming. What is he thinking about? Did he love her? If I loved you, I can't stand it.
Well ladies, I have to go. Have a nice evening.
No... no... you won't leave me hanging!
Please put the drinks on my account, number six hundred and twelve. I'll call you in the morning, Anastasia. See you tomorrow, Carla.
How nice it is when they call you full name.
Beautiful name For beautiful lady, - Christian says quietly, shaking her outstretched hand, and she blurs with pleasure.
Oh, mom, and you, Brutus?
I stand up, begging him with my eyes to answer my question. Christian pecks me on the cheek.
Bye, baby,” he whispers and leaves.
What a scoundrel! I'm used to commanding everyone! Plopping down in a chair, I turn to my mother.
Well, I have to admit, he blew my mind, Ana. What a party! However, it seemed to me that you were quarreling. Isn't it time you discussed your differences? Both of you are bursting with desire, and just like that you’ll inadvertently ignite. - She begins to fan herself spectacularly.
Go to him.
I can not. I came to be with you.
Ana, you flew in because you were confused and tried to run away from yourself! I see you are crazy about each other. Talk to him. My God, he flew three thousand miles to see you! Have you forgotten how hard the flight was for you?
I blush. She doesn't know anything about his private plane.
Well, what else is there?
“He has his own plane,” I mutter embarrassedly, “and not three, but two and a half.”
Why am I embarrassed?
Her eyebrows shoot up.
Wow! - Carla whispers. - Listen, Ana, since you arrived, I’ve been trying to understand what you didn’t share. And the only way to deal with difficulties is to discuss them together. You can think whatever you want, but until you express your doubts to him, you will continue to mark time.
I look at her from under my brows.
Ana, honey, you like to delve into yourself too much. Listen to your heart. What do you feel?
I look at the palms.
“I think I love him,” I answer quietly.
I know honey. And he loves you.
And I say, he loves! What do you need? For him to write it on his forehead in neon letters?
I look at her in amazement, my eyes stinging from tears.
Ana, honey, don't cry.
I don't believe he loves me.
Not everyone is able to drop everything and fly across the continent to stop by for tea. Go to him! You won't find best place. Complete romance, and also neutral territory.
I feel shy under her gaze. I want to go to him - but I don’t want to.
Honey, you don't have to come back with me. Be happy! And the key to your happiness is in number six hundred and twelve. And the key to the house - if you come back late - is under the yucca tree in the courtyard. And if you don't come back... well, you're a big girl now.
I flush to the roots of my hair. Oh my God, mom!
Let's just finish the cocktails first.
“I recognize my daughter,” she grins.
I timidly knock on the door of number six hundred and twelve. Christian is on the threshold, talking on the phone. Blinking in surprise, he opens the doors wide and waves for me to come in.
Including compensation? What about the costs? - Christian whistles through his teeth. - Yes, this mistake will cost a lot. What about Lucas?
I look around. Christian lives in a multi-room suite similar to the one in Hitman. Brand new ultra-modern furniture, all in muted dark purple and gold tones, walls with bronze patterns. Christian walks over to a dark wood drawer and opens the door to the minibar. He signs for me to pour myself something, and he retreats to the bedroom. He probably doesn't want me to hear his conversation. I shrug. That time when I entered the office, he also did not interrupt the call. I hear the sound of water, it fills the bath. I pour myself some orange juice.
Christian returns.
Have Andrea send me a sketch. Barney assures that he has solved the problem... - He laughs. - No, Friday... There is a piece of land that interests me... Yes, let Bill call back... no, tomorrow... Let's see what Georgia will offer us if we are persistent. - Christian doesn't take his eyes off me. He holds out the glass and points to the ice bucket.
If their motives suit us... we'll think about it, although this damn heat... Detroit has its advantages, and it's much cooler there... - Suddenly his face darkens. What's happened? - Let Bill call back. Tomorrow, just not too early.
So, it's my turn.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I mutter.
No,” he says evenly, with wariness in his gray eyes.
Does your “no” mean that you didn’t answer or didn’t like?
Christian crosses his arms and leans against the wall.
Why did you come, Anastasia?
I already said it.
He takes a deep breath.
- “No” means that he didn’t love.
Christian frowns at me, but seems pleasantly surprised by my persistence.
It's strange that I'm still breathing. When I finally let the air out of my chest, I sag like an old bag. God bless. What would happen to me if he said that he loved that witch?
You truly are a goddess, green-eyed goddess, Anastasia.
Are you laughing at me, Mr. Gray?
I don't dare.
He shakes his head solemnly, but there is a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
Dare you. And often.
Christian smirks as I repeat his own words. Gray eyes darken.
Stop biting your lips. You are in my room, you have not been with me for three days, and I have come a long way to see you.
His BlackBerry hums, but he turns it off without looking at the screen. My breathing quickens. I see where he's going with this... but we were going to talk! Christian takes a step towards me, his gaze predatory and sensual.
I want you, Anastasia. And you want me. That's why you're here.
“I really wanted to know the truth,” I whisper defensively.
Now that you know her, will you stay? Or will you leave?
He comes close to me and I flush.
“I’ll stay,” I whisper, raising my eyes.
“Oh, I’d like to believe,” Christian says, looking down at me. - Admit it, you were terribly angry with me.
I don’t remember anyone except my family being angry with me. I like it.
He runs the pads of his fingers down my cheek. Oh God, his proximity, his exciting smell! We were going to talk, but my heart is beating like crazy, my blood is boiling, passionate desire is engulfing my whole body. Christian leans down and runs the tip of his nose from my shoulder to my ear, and his fingers bury themselves in my hair.
“We were going to talk,” I whisper.
I have so much to tell you.
He gently kisses my earlobe. Pulling my hair, he throws his head back, giving his lips access to my throat. Gently biting the skin, Christian presses a kiss to his throat.
“I want you,” he whispers.
Moaning, I squeeze him in my arms.
Are you on your period? - Christian asks without breaking the kiss.
Oh shit. He sees right through me!
“Yes,” I answer, embarrassed.
Painful?
No. - I blush. "God…"
He leaves my lips and looks down at me.
Are you taking pills?
Why do I feel so humiliated?
Let's go take a bath.
Christian takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom, most of which is taken up by a huge bed with exquisite draperies, but we move on. The bathroom - marble and aquamarine - consists of two rooms. The second has a bathtub with stone steps that could easily fit four. Steam rises from the foam, and there are stone seats around. Candles flicker. Oh... it turns out he lit them while he was talking on the phone.
Do you have a hairpin?
I look at him in confusion, fumble in my jeans pocket and take out a hair tie.
“Put your hair up,” he says softly.
I obey.
The heat and moisture make the blouse stick to the body. Christian bends down and closes the valve, then leads me into the first room and places me in front of the floor-length mirror opposite the sinks, while he stands behind me.
Raise your hands,” he whispers from behind. I obediently raise my hands and he pulls my blouse over my head, leaving me naked from the waist up. Without taking his eyes off me, Christian undoes the button of my jeans and pulls down the zipper.
I'm going to fuck you in the bathroom, Anastasia.
He kisses my neck. I tilt my head to the side to give him more room. Sitting down, Christian slowly pulls my jeans and panties down my legs.
Raise your leg, now the other one.
Grasping the edge of the sink, I do as he tells me. Now I'm completely naked and he's kneeling behind me, kissing and lightly biting my buttocks. It takes my breath away.
Christian then stands up and looks at me in the mirror. I really want to cover myself, but I resist the temptation. He covers my stomach with his palm.
Don't look away. You are beautiful... Now look how sensual you are.
He takes my hands in his, threads his fingers through them, and places both palms on my stomach.
Look how lush her breasts are.
He covers my breasts with his palms, and his thumbs gently tease my nipples.
With a groan, I arch my back. Christian squeezes and gently pulls his nipples, causing them to swell. I look in amazement at the lust-stricken slut in the mirror. Oh, how good! I close my eyes with a groan, unable to watch how the lustful woman in front of me is exhausted by passion, arousing herself with her palms... his palms. I stroke my skin as if I were him, losing my mind under his touches and quiet, soft orders.
Okay, baby,” Christian whispers.
He moves my hands lower, from my waist to my hips and pubic area. Spreading his thighs from behind with his knee, he strokes my pussy with his fingers, now with one palm, then with the other, maintaining the rhythm. I can barely contain myself, a puppet in the hands of an experienced puppeteer.
Look how you glow, Anastasia,” he whispers, kissing and biting my shoulders. I let out a groan.
Suddenly he lets go of my hands.
Now on her own,” Christian commands, taking a step back.
I try to continue, but, alas, it cannot be compared with the previous sensations. I need him, only him! Without him I die.
Christian takes off his shirt over his head and quickly pulls off his jeans.
What, am I doing better?
His eyes in the mirror burn me with fire.
Yes, oh, yes, please, I exhale.
He covers my hands with his again and continues to caress my clit. With my back I feel the coarse hair on his chest and his erect penis. Hurry up, please. Christian bites the back of my head, I close my eyes, experiencing countless sensations: on my neck, in my groin, behind.
Suddenly Christian stops and abruptly turns me to face him. With one hand he grabs my wrists and puts my hands behind my back. The other one pulls me by my hair, gathered in a ponytail, throwing my head back, and with his lips he passionately, furiously bites my lips.
His ragged breathing merges with mine.
When did you start your period, Anastasia?
The question takes me by surprise.
Er...yesterday.
Christian lets me go and turns my back to him again.
“Put yourself against the sink,” he commands and pulls my hips towards him, forcing me to bend over, as he already did in the playroom.
Putting his hand between my legs, he pulls the blue thread... Oh no! Christian carefully removes the tampon and tosses it into the nearest toilet. Oh, mother of God... And now he’s already inside me!.. Skin to skin... at first he moves slowly, without effort... listening to my reactions... oh! I lean against the edge of the sink, breathing heavily, arching my back, feeling Christian inside. Oh, sweet agony... his hands are squeezing my thighs. The movements become sharp, the pace quickens, Christian leans over and caresses my clitoris with his hand... Oh God. I'm close to orgasm.
Well, well, baby, okay,” he mutters hoarsely, wildly rotating his hips, not sparing me – and at that moment the ground disappears from under his feet.
Oh!.. I scream loudly, desperately clinging to the sink. An orgasm shakes me, everything inside shrinks and unclenches. Christian is not far behind. Having leaned towards me, with his last breath he shouts my name, like a prayer.
Oh Ana! - His hoarse breathing echoes mine. - Oh baby, it’s impossible to get enough of you!
Will it always be like this? So amazing, so passionate, so crushing, so magical. The words rush from my lips, but I am too stunned and can only think about one thing: will I ever experience satiety?
We sink to the floor, and Christian's hands enclose me in a gentle captivity. I hide my face on his chest. Savoring it, I inhale its unique smell. Don't snuggle. I repeat this phrase like a mantra. I want to run my fingers over his chest, drawing patterns, but I stop myself, knowing that he hates touch. We lie quietly, withdrawing into ourselves. I dissolve in Christian, dissolve without a trace.
I have there's blood coming out“, - I whisper, remembering my period.
“I don’t care,” he mutters.
“I see,” I note rather dryly.
Does it bother you?
Does this bother me? It probably should, but I don't care. I lean back and look up into smoky gray eyes.
Not a bit.
Christian grins.
Let's take a bath.
He unclenches his arms, intending to get up from the floor. Suddenly I notice small round scars on his chest. It's not chickenpox, I think automatically. Grace said he wasn't sick. Oh damn... the scars look like burns. But from what? An unexpected guess makes me turn pale with horror and disgust. Cigarettes. But who did it: Mrs. Robinson, his real mother, Who? Perhaps there is another explanation, but I thought too much - an insane hope flares up in my chest.
What's happened? - Christian looks with concern.
Your scars aren't chickenpox, are they?
In an instant, Christian withdraws and withdraws into himself: calmness and serenity are replaced by alertness, even anger. The face darkens, the lips compress into a thin, unyielding line.
No, not chicken pox,” he says abruptly, obviously not intending to go deeper into the subject, then stands up, reaches out his hand and lifts me off the floor.
“And there’s no point in looking at me like that,” he adds grumpily, removing his hands.
I flush and look down, but now I'm sure, absolutely sure, that someone put out cigarettes on Christian. I feel sick.
That's her? - I ask, not having time to think about the consequences.
Christian is silent. I look up, meeting an angry look.
She? Mrs Robinson? No! There is no need to make a monster out of her, Anastasia. I don’t understand, do you like blaming her for all sins?
Christian stands before me, dazzling in his nakedness, my blood on him, and we finally get to talking. I’m naked too, we both have nothing to cover ourselves with, except maybe hide under the water. Taking a deep breath, I do just that, I climb into the delicious warm liquid. Already sitting in the deep bath and melting in the fragrant foam, I dare to look up at Christian.
I was just wondering what you would be like if you hadn't met her. If she hadn't introduced you to her... her way of life.
Christian sighs and climbs into the other side of the tub, trying not to touch me under the water. The jaws are clenched, there is a fierce cold in the eyes. Damn, was he really that angry at my words?
His gaze is imperturbable, it is impossible to read from his face what he is thinking about. Silence separates us again, but I have learned my mother's advice. It's your turn, Gray, this time I won't question you. My subconscious is nervously biting my nails - I don’t know how it will all end. Christian and I devour each other with our eyes, but I don’t intend to give in. An eternity passes... finally he shakes his head and grins:
If it weren't for Mrs. Robinson, I might have followed in my mother's footsteps.
I blink in shock. Would you become a drug addict? Engaged in prostitution? Would you combine both activities?
I was satisfied with her love quirks.
What the hell does he mean?
What do you mean arranged?
She didn't let me go down the wrong path. - Christian looks at me firmly. - It's hard to grow up in ideal family, if you are not perfect.
Oh no. My mouth is dry. He does not take his eyes off me, there is a mysterious expression on his face, but he clearly does not intend to share his secrets with me. My hopes are disappointed, I'm trembling. Christian is filled with self-hatred. It turns out that Mrs. Robinson once loved him. Damn... does he really still love her? I sigh convulsively, as if someone had kicked me in the stomach.
Does she still love you?
Hardly. - Christian frowns, as if he had never thought about it. - How many times can I repeat, it was a long time ago. I can't change the past even if I want to. But I do not want. She saved me from myself. - He runs his wet hand through his hair irritably. - I haven't discussed this with anyone. Except for Dr. Flynn. And the only reason I told you this is because I want you to believe me.
I believe, but I want to know more! Every time I try to get you to talk, you push me away.
Oh, for God's sake, Anastasia, what do you want to know? What I should do? “His eyes are burning, and although he doesn’t raise his voice, I can see that Christian is having a hard time containing his anger.
I quickly look down at my hands under water - the bubbles begin to burst.
I'm just trying to understand you, you are a mystery to me. And I'm happy that you answer my questions.
Perhaps it's Cosmopolitan's fault for pushing me into recklessness, but suddenly the distance between us seems unbearable. I move closer to him and fall to his chest, skin to skin. Christian crawls up and looks at me worriedly, as if I'm going to bite him. That's much better! My inner goddess looks at Christian with calm curiosity.
Please don't be mad at me, I whisper.
I'm not angry, Anastasia. I'm just not used to such interrogations. Until now, only Dr. Flynn and... - He hesitates and frowns.
Mrs Robinson? Is it only with her that you are frank? - Now I'm trying to calm down my anger.
What are you talking about?
Splashing water onto the floor, Christian rises, puts his arm around my shoulders and leans against the side of the bathtub.
Won't you stop? - he mutters irritably. - About life, the secrets of the universe, business. Mrs. Robinson and I have known each other for a hundred years, we have a lot to chat about.
For example, about me?
And about you.
Gray eyes watch carefully.
I bite my bottom lip, trying not to get emotional.
Why are you talking about me?
I don't like whining and being capricious, but I can't help it. It's time to stop, I'm putting too much pressure on him. My subconscious is making an Edvard Munch face again.
I've never met anyone like you, Anastasia.
That is? Did everyone else immediately sign the contract without asking a single question?
Christian shakes his head.
I needed some advice.
And Mrs. Pedophile gave you good advice?
It turns out that I don’t know how to control my own temperament at all.
Anastasia, stop it.
I'm rushing headlong through thin ice towards danger.
Or I'll whip you. Mrs. Robinson and I have no romantic or sexual relationship. She's old good friend and business partner. We have a common past, which I value extremely, although our relationship destroyed her marriage, but everything is long behind us.
How so? After all, she is still married. And how did they manage to get away with it for so long?
And your parents? They did not know?
No,” he growls, “how many times can I repeat this?”
Perhaps I really have gone too far.
You can't get another word out of him.
Are you finished?
For today.
Christian takes a deep breath, as if a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders.
“Okay, now it’s my turn,” he says quietly, his gaze hardening. - You didn't answer my letter.
I burst into flames. I hate questions. Besides, every time we decide to discuss something, Christian loses his temper. I shake my head. Surely my curiosity evokes the same feelings in him - Christian is not used to making excuses. This thought deprives me of peace and gives me a feeling of guilt.
I was going to, but you arrived so suddenly.
You are upset? - he asks dispassionately.
No, I was happy,” I whisper.
Fine. - Christian breaks into a smile. - And I'm glad I came. Despite your interrogations with passion. Do you think you'll get away with a slight fright just because I rushed here for you? And don't get your hopes up, Miss Steele. I wish to know more.
I’m telling you that I was happy. And I’m grateful to you,” I mutter.
No need for thanks, Miss Steele.
His eyes are shining. Christian leans over and kisses me. I instantly combust. Steam is still rising above the water. He pulls back and looks down at me.
No, first I want to know something, and then I hope for more.
“For more?” - that word again. But what is he interested in? There are no secrets in my past; a difficult childhood is not about me. What does he need to know about me that he doesn't already know?
I sigh resignedly.
What do you want to know?
First, tell me, what do you think about our contract?
I blink. True or fake? The subconscious and the inner goddess look at each other nervously. “Damn, let it be true.”
I'm not sure I can pretend for long. Play a role throughout the weekend.
I flush and lower my eyes.
Christian lifts my chin and smiles contentedly.
I don't think you can handle it either.
I feel a little offended.
You are laughing at me?
I laugh, but in a kind way.
Then he leans over and kisses me briefly.
“You’re a bad sub,” he whispers, holding my chin and his eyes cunning.
I look at him in amazement, then start laughing. Christian laughs with me.
Perhaps I had a bad teacher.
Perhaps,” he snorts. - I should have not let you down.
Christian cocks his head to the side with a devious grin.
I swallow nervously. Oh god no. And at the same moment, the muscles inside are contracting sweetly. This is his way of expressing his feelings. Perhaps the only one available to him, I suddenly realize. Christian watches my reaction.
Was it terrible the first time I spanked you?
I blink and stare at him. Terrible? I remember, embarrassed by my own reaction. It was painful, but now the pain does not seem unbearable. Christian kept repeating that the main thing happens in the head. And the second time... rather sweet.
No, it’s not terrible,” I answer in a whisper.
What's most important in your head? - he insists.
Perhaps. Experience pleasure when you don't expect it.
It was the same with me. You don't understand some things right away.
Damn it. This happened to him when he was a child.
There are special safe words, don’t forget about them, Anastasia. If you are willing to follow the rules that reflect my need to control and protect you, we will succeed.
Do you need to control me?
I couldn't satisfy this need in my youth.
Is this some kind of therapy now?
One could say so.
I can understand this, it will help me.
There is one contradiction: you tell me not to resist, and then you say that you like my rebellion. Too narrow a line for me.
He looks at me for a moment, then frowns.
I understand, but you've managed so far.
But what did it cost me? I'm on pins and needles all the time!
On pins and needles? “What a good idea,” he grins.
I did not mean it! - In my hearts, I hit the water, splashing him.
Did you spray me on purpose?
Oh damn... don't look like that!
Miss Steele,” Christian pulls me towards him, splashing the water, “don’t you think we’re chatting?”
He takes my face in his hands and forcefully takes control of my mouth. Throws his head back. I let out a strangled groan. Christian is in complete control of the situation, he knows how to do that. A flame flares up inside me, I run my fingers through his hair and kiss him back. Groaning, Christian lifts me up and straddles me. I feel his erect penis under me. Pulling back, he gives me a lustful look. I lower my hands, about to rest against the edges of the bathtub, but he grabs my wrists and puts my hands behind my back, holding them with one palm.
And now I’ll take you,” he whispers, lifting me high above him. - Are you ready?
Yes,” I whisper, and then he lowers me onto his dick, slowly, deliberately slowly, savoring every moment.
I close my eyes with a groan and enjoy the lasting sensation. Christian arches, I sigh convulsively, lean forward and rest my forehead against his.
Please let me touch you, I whisper.
No, don't you dare touch me! - he begs and, letting go of my wrists, puts his hands on his hips.
Grabbing the sides of the bathtub, I move slowly, not taking my eyes off him. Christian is watching me. His mouth is half open, he breathes intermittently and noisily, his tongue glistens between his teeth. Christian looks so... sensual. Our wet bodies slide. I lean over and kiss him. He closes his eyes. Then I put my hand in his hair and pull, throwing his head back, but not removing my lips. This is allowed, we both like it. We are moving together. My kiss gets deeper, I jump at full speed, speeding up the rhythm. Christian lifts me up, faster, even faster. Wet mouths, tangled hair, wet thighs. I'm close to orgasm... I'm already starting to recognize this sweet squeeze. And water, water splashes around, the funnel pulls us inside, our movements become more violent and frantic, splashes fly in all directions, and the same whirlpool rages inside me... and I don’t care what happens next.
I love him! For the feelings that I arouse in him, for his passion and ardor. I love him because he flew to me from the other end of the continent. Because he loves me. It's so unexpected, so stunning. He is mine and I belong to him.
Come on,” Christian whispers.
And I explode, an orgasm shakes me, stormy, frantic, crushing. Suddenly Christian squeezes me in his arms - and cums after me.
Ana, baby! - he exclaims, and his passionate exclamation penetrates into the very depths of my soul.
We lie on our stomachs, covered with sheets. On a huge bed, hugging pillows, eyes to eyes, gray to blue. We are naked but not touching each other.
Do you want to sleep? - Christian asks softly. He is incredibly handsome, white Egyptian sheets set off his hair color and expressive gray eyes. Christian seems thoughtful.
No, I'm not tired.
I feel a surge of strength. It's so great just to talk that I can't stop.
What do you want? - he asks.
Chat.
He smiles.
About trifles.
Trifles?
About me?
What's your favorite movie?
He grins.
Now "Piano".
His smile is contagious.
Well, of course, I should have guessed! A sad, moving melody that you probably know how to play. Your accomplishments are innumerable, Mr. Gray.
And the best of them all is you, Miss Steele.
So my number is seventeen.
He frowns, not understanding.
Seventeen?
I'm talking about the women you... had sex with.
Christian curls his lips, grinning skeptically.
Not certainly in that way.
You said there were fifteen of them!
My embarrassment is obvious.
I meant those whom I brought to game room. I misunderstood you. You didn't ask how many women I had.
Holy shit... more... how much more?
Are you talking about vanilla sex?
No, I only had vanilla sex with you. - He shakes his head, still smiling.
Is he funny? And why am I, such an idiot, smiling back?
I don’t know how many there were; I’m not in the habit of making notches on the bedpost.
I'm talking about the order of numbers. Dozens? Hundreds?.. Thousands?
With every question my eyes widen.
Lord have mercy! Tens, let's stop at tens.
All subs?
Stop grinning,” I say menacingly, trying unsuccessfully to frown.
I can't, you're so weird.
Does weird mean special? Or with a foolishness?
Both.
He repeats my words.
It seems you are being insolent to me.
Christian kisses the tip of my nose.
Get ready, Anastasia. What I say will shock you. Are you ready?
I nod, keeping a stupid expression on my face.
All subs are professionals. There are places in and around Seattle that teach this.
Alas, I paid for sex, Anastasia.
“We found something to be proud of,” I mutter arrogantly. - You were right, I'm shocked. And I’m angry that I have nothing to shake you with in revenge.
You were wearing my underwear.
Did this really shock you?
My inner goddess hits the fifteen foot mark in the pole vault.
And she came to meet my parents without panties.
What shocked you?
Oh my god, the mark rises to sixteen feet.
It turns out that all my achievements in this area are connected with underwear.
But the biggest shock I experienced was when you admitted that you were a virgin.
Yes, your face at that moment was worth looking at,” I giggle.
You let me beat you down.
How, and was it a shock?
I grin.
We can repeat it.
I really hope so, Miss Steele. How about next weekend?
Okay,” I agree sheepishly.
Yes, I will enter the Red Room again.
You call me by name.
Shocking?
The shocking thing is that I like it.
Christian.
He grins.
I have some plans for tomorrow.
His eyes sparkle with excitement.
What are your plans?
Let it be a surprise,” he says softly.
I raise my eyebrows and yawn at the same time.
Have I tired you, Miss Steele? - Christian asks mockingly.
Nothing like this.
Christian leans over me and kisses me tenderly on the lips.
“Sleep,” he orders and turns off the light.
I close my eyes, tired and satiated, feeling like I’m in the very center of a cyclone. However, despite everything he said and kept back, I have never been so happy.
The erotic novel by British writer Erica Leonard "Fifty Shades of Gray" thoroughly excited the world book market, becoming the most discussed book in the United States and causing a stir. The story of the relationship between the mysterious millionaire Christian Gray and the young student Anastasia Steele instantly spread throughout the world, stirring up public opinion and sparking furious debate online. The book is in Russia, but for now RIA Novosti is publishing an excerpt from it so that readers can judge for themselves the merits and demerits of Leonard’s work.
Quiet. The curtains are drawn. The bed is warm and comfortable. Hmmm... I open my eyes and at the first moment I serenely enjoy the situation. I wonder where I am? Behind me is a shaped headboard rising sun. Something vaguely familiar. The large spacious room is luxuriously furnished in shades of brown, beige and gold. I think I've already seen something like this. But where? My sleepy mind is trying to make sense of the visual images of the recent past. And suddenly it dawns on me: I’m at the Hitman Hotel... in a suite. Kate and I were in a similar situation. Only this one is bigger. Crap! I'm in Christian Gray's room. How did I get here?
Gradually fragmentary memories of the previous evening return. I got drunk, called Gray, and felt sick. Then Jose, and then Christian again. Horrible! I cringe internally. I don't remember how I got here. I'm wearing a T-shirt, bra and panties. No socks. Jeans too. Crap!
On the table next to the bed is a glass of orange juice and two pills. Advil. Christian took care of that too! I sit up on the bed and swallow the pills. Actually, I feel quite good, frankly speaking, much better than I deserve. The orange juice is simply divine! Quenches thirst and refreshes. Nothing helps with dry mouth like freshly squeezed orange juice.
There is a knock on the door. My heart jumps into my throat and I can’t say a word. Gray opens the door anyway and enters the room.
Wow! He just got back from training. He is wearing loose gray knitted pants and a sweatshirt darkened with sweat. The thought of a sweaty Christian Gray excites me strangely. I take a deep breath and close my eyelids, as if I were two years old and if I closed my eyes, no one would find me.
Good morning, Anastasia. How do you feel?
Better than I deserve, I mutter.
Christian places the large duffel bag on the chair and grabs the ends of the towel hanging around his neck with his hands. He looks at me, gray eyes unreadable, and, as usual, I have absolutely no idea what he's thinking about. He is very good at hiding his thoughts and feelings.
Gray comes over and sits on the edge of the bed. He is so close that I can touch him, I can smell him. Oh my god... the smell of the body and shower gel is a heady cocktail, much stronger than a margarita, now I know from personal experience.
When you passed out, I didn't risk the leather upholstery and take you home. “I had to leave you here,” he answers indifferently.
Who put me to bed?
ME - His face is impenetrable.
Did I feel sick again?
Did you undress me too? - I'm almost whispering.
Me too. - He arches an eyebrow, and I blush desperately.
We don’t... - I barely pronounce, dead with horror. I can’t finish the sentence, and I fall silent, staring at my hands.
Anastasia, you were in a comatose state. Necrophilia is not my thing. “I prefer the woman to be alive and responsive,” he explains dryly.
I'm very embarrassed.
His lips lift slightly in a wry smile.
Yes, we had fun. The evening will be remembered for a long time.
Me too...
But he laughs at me, you scoundrel! He came on his own, no one asked him, and as a result I was appointed the main villain.
It’s dishonest to use all sorts of spy technologies that you develop there to keep an eye on the girl,” I snap back.
Christian looks at me in surprise and, it seems, offended.
First, track mobile phone possible via the Internet. Secondly, my company is not engaged in the production of equipment for surveillance and covert surveillance, and thirdly, if I had not come for you, you would have woken up in a photographer’s bed, and as far as I remember, you were not happy with such a suitor, - he says sarcastically.
Boyfriend!.. Christian Gray is angry, his gray eyes sparkle with insult.
“You’re just a knight from a medieval chronicle,” I remark sarcastically.
It's thawing a little. The facial expression softens, and the shadow of a smile flashes on the beautifully contoured lips.
No, Anastasia, it’s not like that at all. Maybe the Dark Knight. - Christian smiles mockingly. - Did you eat yesterday? - he asks sternly.
I shake my head. What other crime have I committed? Although his lips purse, his face remains impassive.
You definitely need to eat. And you drank on an empty stomach, and that’s why you felt so bad. To be honest, Anastasia, this is the very first rule when you drink.
He's ruffling his hair with his hand, which means he's still angry.
Is that what it's called?
Yes, I think so.
You still got off easy.
In what sense?
If you were mine, it would have been painful for you to sit for another week after what you did yesterday. I drank on an empty stomach, got drunk drunk, almost got into trouble... - Gray closes his eyes at his beautiful face The disgust is clear and he shudders slightly. Then he opens his eyes and looks at me sternly. - It's scary to think what could have happened to you.
What does he care? If I were his... but I'm not his. Although, perhaps, deep down I don’t mind. This thought breaks through the indignation caused by his arrogance. I blush: my wayward subconscious dances a joyful hula-hula dance at the mere thought that I could be his.
Nothing would have happened to me. I was with Kate.
What about the photographer? - he snorts.
Um... Jose Jr. I'll have to say a few sweet things to him.
Jose just got carried away. - I shrug.
I think someone should teach this photographer some manners so he doesn't get carried away anymore.
How strict you are,” I snort.
Oh, Anastasia, you have no idea. - Christian's eyes narrow and a mischievous grin appears on his face.
Gray's smile has a completely disarming effect on me. One moment I was angry - and now I can’t take my eyes off his face. Oh!.. Everything can be forgiven for this smile. Probably because he smiles so rarely. I even forgot what we talked about.
I'm going to take a shower. Or are you first? - He tilts his head to the side, still smiling. My heart is pounding, my brain has stopped sending impulses to the neurons responsible for breathing. Gray's smile widens and he runs his thumb over my cheek and bottom lip.
Breathe, Anastasia,” Gray whispers and stands up. - Breakfast will be served in fifteen minutes. You're probably hungry. - He goes to the bathroom and closes the door.
I can finally breathe out. Why is he so devilishly handsome? I want to get up and go into the shower with him. I've never experienced anything like this before. Hormones are raging. I can still feel the touch of his hand on my cheek and upper lip. A feeling of painful, painful discomfort spreads throughout the body. What happened with me? Hmm... Lust. This is how it turns out it happens.
I lie back down on the down pillows. "If you were mine." Oh my God... What I wouldn't give to be his! Christian Grey - the only man, which makes my heart beat faster and my blood run through my veins. Although I don’t like everything about him: he is very closed and contradictory. He either pushes me away, then sends me books for fourteen thousand dollars, and then he pursues me as if I were some kind of celebrity, and he was a persistent admirer. And despite all this, I spent the night in his room and feel completely safe. Under his protection. He rushed to save me from a danger he had invented. No, he is not dark, but a real white knight in shining armor, classic romantic hero- Sir Gawain or Lancelot.
I crawl out of bed and desperately try to find my jeans. Gray comes out of the shower wet, glistening with water and still unshaven. He's wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. And of course, I stand with bare legs and languish with embarrassment. He's surprised that I'm already up.
Provided by Eksmo Publishing House
