Updated on August 5, 2015
50 Shades Darker – Chapter 3
So Ana and Christian are going to try out their ‘new’ relationship. He’s willing to put all the kinky fuckery on hold for her. Will it be enough for her? Or will she still find some reason to moan, because he does utterly unreasonable shit, like talk to other people?
50 Shades Darker
It’s Friday, the end of Ana’s first week at her new job. She turns up at the office and is instantly given a pile of manuscripts to read. Lucky bitch.
I switch on my computer to start work, finishing my latte and eating a banana.
I DO NOT CARE what you are eating for breakfast.
There’s an email from Christian.
Of course there is.
“I do hope you’ve had breakfast.”
She has, I can vouch for that. A latte and a banana. Fascinating.
“I am eating a banana as I type.”
Fucking hell, it goes on.
“You can do better than that.”
STOP TALKING ABOUT THE FREAKING BANANA.
“Mr. Grey – I am trying to work for a living.”
Get off your high horse. He’s a self-made billionaire.
At lunchtime I head to the deli for a pastrami sandwich.
For the love of all that is holy, STOP. You could be eating the last of the woolly mammoths for all the shits I give.
I decide, in an unguarded moment, to email Christian.
Emails and descriptions of food. This is shaping up to be the worst chapter yet.
“Twiddling my thumbs.”
“You should have come to work for me. You wouldn’t be twiddling your thumbs. I am sure I could put them to better use.”
Nothing gets a girl hotter than imagining where she could insert her thumbs.
5.30 rolls around and Ana’s boss, Jack, is instantly at her desk inviting her out for a drink. She says she’ll meet him at the bar, then runs off to email Christian about it.
“We are going to a bar called Fifty’s. The rich seam of humor that I could mine from this is endless.”
I really don’t think it is.
She heads out the door, but is called to by a mysterious voice.
…an ashen young woman approaches me cautiously.
“I just wanted to look at you.” Her voice is eerily soft.
I heard tell that the most beautiful woman in all the land would be here, at this hour, and I have travelled many long leagues to find you.
Like me, she has dark hair that starkly contrasts with her fair skin. Her eyes are … flat. There’s no life in them at all.
A true doppelgänger.
“What do you have that I don’t?” she asks sadly.
…the sleeve of her trench coat rides up, revealing a soiled bandage around her wrist. Holy fuck.
It’s quite obvious this is an ex-flame of Christian’s, so why are you surprised that she’s hurting herself? You stopped eating and talking when you broke up with him. Apparently losing Christian is a recipe for self-harm.
…my subconscious rears her ugly head and hisses at me – She has something to do with Christian.
Shame that this revelation is in your subconscious, and thus you have no access to it.
Fifty’s is a cavernous, impersonal bar…
Jack is at the bar with … Claire from Reception. She is wearing her trademark silver hoop earrings.
Unless she is garrotted with them later, I don’t think the earrings are relevant.
Friendly Claire points out that Ana seems much happier today. Ana deftly changes the topic of conversation, calling this her ‘patented distraction technique’, as if Claire gives a flying fuck about Ana’s moods and is likely to interrogate her about them.
I realize I haven’t spoken to any women my own age since Kate left for Barbados. Absently I wonder how Kate is…
At last, I’m talking to someone my own age! How exciting! I’d better think about something else.
Jack The Boss is getting a bit close and flirty, just as Christian turns up.
He looks edible.
I … I just …. words can’t …
“Jack, this is Christian,” I mumble apologetically. Why am I apologizing?
…the scorching, panty-combusting look that Christian is giving me…
Christian extracts her from the party immediately because he’s a little kid who can’t share. In the car on the way to Ana’s he reveals that he’s bought the publishing company she works for, to ‘keep her safe’. What a dick move. She gets mad, he comes out with a load of bullshit about how it was a wise business decision, she forgives him. So far, so predictable.
…trying to suppress my high-school-cheerleader giggling. Though I was never cheerleader – the bitter thought crosses my mind.
Quick! Put in some obvious backstory even though it clearly doesn’t fit!
It’s odd having Christian Grey in the apartment. The place feels too small for him.
Given his penchant for swinging his enormous dick around, I’d put the breakable ornaments away.
“Would you like something to eat?” I ask.
He nods slowly. “Yes. You.”
Everything south of my waistline clenches.
Nothing I can say will make this exchange any more fantastic.
“I told you I am not going to touch you until you beg me and tell me what to do.”
I am lost; he’s not playing fair.
Wrong. He’s playing completely fair. This is exactly what you wanted from him.
“I’ll beg, please.” I sound whiny.
A little self-realisation goes a long way.
“Stop teasing me. You don’t fight fair.”
Aw, the nasty man won’t have sex with you. Waaa.
She hasn’t been taking her pill, so he suggests they just have dinner. Ana has NO FOOD in the apartment (except probably lollipops and bubblegum because she’s a CHILD) so there’s a scene where they go to a supermarket. Christ. Pretty soon we’re going to be treated to a gripping description of Christian Grey doing his tax return.
Christian carries the grocery bags into the apartment.
“You look very – domestic.”
Eyeing him up as a house husband already?
I place a chopping board and some red peppers in front of him. He stares down at them in confusion.
“You’ve never chopped a vegetable?”
I never thought Ana would be the worldly one.
In the supermarket she devised a plan to seduce him. This involves brushing up against him whilst she’s cooking. She’s a clever one, that Ana.
“I think we’ll eat later,” he says. “Put the chicken in the fridge.”
…only he can make it sound hot, really hot.
Oh dear, love, I don’t think anyone can.
He … scoops me into his arms, and carries me … into my bedroom.
The first sex scene in the book. At least we didn’t have to wait eight chapters this time.
I groan and fist my hands into his hair. He doesn’t stop, his tongue circling my clitoris, driving me insane, on and on, around and around…
If you haven’t seen ‘Gilbert Gottfried reads 50 Shades’, YouTube it. I’m imagining all these sex scenes in his voice and they’re a million times better.
I undo his waistband and fly, than yank down his jeans and boxers, and he springs free.
I’ve made this joke before, but it bears repeating. Boing.
I put him in my mouth and suck – hard. Mmm, he tastes good.
What, this man has a chocolate penis too?
“Ana, you’ve made your point … I do not want to come in your mouth.”
You probably spunk liquid caramel, so why the fuck not?
Without taking his eyes off mine, he sinks into me at a deliciously slow pace.
What’s the opposite of ‘boing’? ‘Schlup’?
“Come on, baby,” he gasps. “Give it to me.”
She comes instantly. Obviously.
Read Chapter Four.