50 Shades of Grey – Chapter Five

Having accidentally ending up out clubbing with Grey, Ana ended the last chapter passing out in his arms. Apt, really, given her inability to stay on her feet when sober, let alone after a shitload of margaritas. Bloody Kate was left dancing with Grey’s brother, Elliot. Ana suspected they’d end up in bed together. I hope so, it’s about time there was some sex in this infernal tome.

Read Chapter Four.
Read the whole lot on ‘The Fifty Shades Saga‘ page.

50 Shades of Grey
Chapter Five

My befuddled brain struggles through its recent visual memories.

This is not how thought works. But compared to Ana’s ‘subconscious’ bullshit, this is small fry.

Oh, shit. I’m in Christian Grey’s suite.

She’s in his suite and still isn’t happy!

Ana reminisces, the only way she knows how: laboriously and repetitively.

The drinking – oh no, the drinking – the phone call – oh no, the phone call – the vomiting – oh no, the vomiting. José and then Christian. Oh no.

Dear EL James, copy and paste is not a valid method for writing a book.

I’m wearing my T-shirt, bra and panties. No socks. No jeans. Holy shit.

Holy shit, indeed. He’s seen your ankles. You’ll have to marry him now.

He opens the door anyway and strolls in. … He’s in gray sweatpants … and a gray sleeveless T-shirt.

What would he be wearing, I wonder, if he was called Mr. Christian Nude?

“We didn’t –?” I whisper.
“Anastasia, you were comatose. Necrophilia is not my thing. I like my women sentient and receptive.”

Such high standards.

“If I hadn’t come to get you, you’d probably be waking up in the photographer’s bed…”

Not necessarily. She could have said no… Oh wait, for a minute there I was mistook Ana for someone with a spine.

“You sound like a courtly knight.”
“Anastasia, I don’t think so. Dark knight, maybe.”

I am Batman.

“Well, if you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week after the stunt you pulled yesterday.”

Good God, tell her what you really think.

I flush at the waywardness of my subconscious – she’s doing her happy dance in a bright red hula skirt at the thought of being his.

The stunningly nonsensical escapades of your subconscious border on the psychotic. Seek help.

My heartbeat has picked up, and my medulla oblongata has neglected to fire any synapses to make me breathe.

Yes, well, after reading that sentence my medulla oblongata has ripped itself free from my cerebellum and garrotted itself on my spinal cord.

I don’t understand this reaction. Hmm … Desire. This is desire. This is what it feels like.

Processing data … Emotion acquired … Analysing … Presence of desire confirmed … Calculating appropriate response. Activating blush centres. Disabling balance mode.

He said he likes his women sentient. He’s probably not celibate then.

No shit.

Grey has bought Ana new clothes, because she vomited all over her last lot.

They are exquisitely designed fancy European lingerie. All pale blue lace and finery.

Christian Grey, King of subtlety.

She remembers Kate. Grey assures her she’s fine. Elliot told him so…

She’s only done this twice before, and both times I’ve had to endure the hideous pink PJs for a week from the fallout.

Never mind what Kate was going through to merit the ‘depression pyjamas’. It’s always worse for poor, suffering Ana.

“Sit,” he commands, pointing to a place at the table.

No, said Ana. Thank you for everything, but I’m leaving with my dignity. Good bye.

Ana sits.

“That’s very profligate of you,” I murmur.

 Check it out. EL James found a thesaurus.

Grey warns Ana to steer clear of him, but also says he can’t stay away from her. I’m surprised such mixed signals haven’t made Ana keel over in confusion.

“You’re not celibate, then.” I breathe. … The mouth-to-brain filter is broken again.

Once again, the ‘mouth-to-brain’ filter is your brain.

I smirk.
“Are you smirking at me, Miss Steele?”

Must have lost that thesaurus. She couldn’t think of another word for ‘smirk’.

“I’d like to bite that lip,” he whispers darkly.
“Why don’t you?” I challenge quietly.
“Because I’m not going to touch you … not until I have your written consent to do so.”

God this guy’s good at dirty talk. I’d frank his mail.

“Once you’re enlightened, you probably won’t want to see me again.”
What does that mean? Does he white-slave small children to some godforsaken part of the planet? … Is he impotent?

The only time in the history of the world that human trafficking and erectile problems have been compared as equally off-putting  qualities in a man.

“Like Eve, you’re so quick to eat from the tree of knowledge.”

Biblical innuendo! Amazing.

He smirks.
“Are you smirking at me, Mr. Grey?”

I’d like to reiterate my point about copy and pasting, but then I’d be repeating myself.

Grey informs her he’s going to take her to Seattle by helicopter, after she gets off work.

“Eat,” he says more sharply. “Anastasia, I have an issue with wasted food … eat.”

Your problem, you eat it.

She asks where he slept last night. He was in bed with her, and says it was quite a novelty for him. She finishes his sentence…

“Not having … sex.” There – I said the word.

Well then, you’re definitely going to hell. May as well actually do it now.

“No … Sleeping with someone.”
What in heaven’s name does that mean? … He’s a virgin?

Oh God, obviously not. I’m surprised you manage to dress yourself in the morning.

She goes to the bathroom.

I eye Christian’s toothbrush. It would be like having him in my mouth.

No it wouldn’t. It would be like having his toothbrush in your mouth.

She brushes her teeth with his brush, because she has a horribly skewed idea of eroticism.

I feel so naughty. It’s such a thrill.

There’s probably a toilet brush you could lick if you really want to get close to him.

They get in the elevator.

“Oh, fuck the paperwork,” he growls. He lunges at me, pushing me against the wall of the elevator. … he’s pinning me to the wall using his hips … his lips are on mine.

About time!

My tongue tentatively strokes his and joins his in a slow, erotic dance that’s all about touch and sensation, all bump and grind. … His erection is against my belly.

She probably thinks she’ll get pregnant now.

…my very small inner goddess sways in a gentle victorious samba.

Ah, the inner goddess. I think I’m going to like her.


Read Chapter Six.

Why not let me know what you think? You can buy the first book here, or the entire trilogy, if you’re a glutton for punishment. Ironically.

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2 Comments on “50 Shades of Grey – Chapter Five

  1. Oh my goodness this is pure gold, i found you about a year ago and I’m reading this series again because of how hilarious you are. I haven’t found anything like it, and i realllllyyyy hope you do something similar with another book or series. (P.S. i lost my shit at that christian nude comment…amazing)

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