Updated on August 5, 2015
50 Shades Freed – Chapter Six
So last time there was a rather exciting car chase! Ana was behind the wheel, doing all sorts of dramatic turns to get away from the mystery chaser. Afterwards, they had sex in the car, then they got home and she said she wanted to do something rough.
Read Chapter Five.
50 Shades Freed
“Do you have anything in mind?” Christian murmurs. “Kinky fuckery?”
Why am I embarrassed by this?
I honestly don’t know.
Am I embarrassed because I want this and I’m ashamed to admit it?
Wow, that is some deep-seated insecurity.
They go to the Red Room of Pain – it has been positively AGES since they were here. And I thought that was the whole point of these books.
“What do you want, Anastasia?”
“I think we’ll start by ridding you of your clothes.”
“Here,” I whisper, gazing nervously at him as I remove the hair tie from around my wrist.
“Turn around,” he orders.
Oh God, I’m actually reading about someone tying up someone else’s hair.
“Now turn around and take your skirt off. Let it fall to the floor.”
As opposed to what? Floating to the ceiling?
“And the smell of you and me and sex … it’s intoxicating.”
Alright, Keats. Get on with it.
He tells her to stand near a table with his back to him, so he can surprise her with some exciting implement or other.
Oh, I love, love, love this anticipation.
How can the sound of a drawer render me a quivering mess?
Because it’s a drawer full of sexy things!
How does he make the slightest touch so erotic?
Because he is a sexy man!
He puts on some mournful music and blindfolds her. Then she bends over the table and he starts spanking her.
His erection presses against me through the rough fabric of his jeans.
Why does this sound familiar? Oh yes, because this is the same as EVERY SINGLE SEX SCENE in this trilogy.
He traces his finger down my back, along the crack between my buttocks, and over my anus.
“We’re going to have some fun with this,” he whispers.
As far as I remember, they haven’t had anal sex, but he has fingered her. Just a little unwanted context for you.
His finger continues down over my perineum and slowly slides into me.
Oh Christ, the germs. Front to back!
I hear the quiet spurt of some liquid, presumably from a tube, then his fingers are massaging me there again.
“This is lube.”
And there I was hoping for barbecue sauce.
I moan … it feels … good.
No shit. (I done a pun!)
He pops in a butt plug and the text … descends into … a tapestry … of … ellipses… Then he fucks her from behind (no, not in that hole, there’s already a butt plug in there).
He picks up the pace, his breathing matching my own as he thrashes into me.
Not a good use of the word ‘thrashes’, I think.
“Fuck!” I scream, and Christian climaxes loudly.
After it’s all over they have another of their insufferable conversations. “How do you feel?” “Well fucked.” “You have a dirty mouth.” “I’m married to a dirty boy.” “I’m glad you’re married to him.” Blah blah blah blaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. You’d kick people out of parties for this shit.
“Will you wear your … er … other jeans?”
He frowns down at me. “Other jeans?”
“The ones you used to wear in here.”
You remember what jeans he used to wear in here? You can tell the difference between someone else’s jeans?
As we enter our bathroom, I yawn loudly and stretch.
“What is it?” Christian asks. “Tell me.”
I flush. “I just feel better.”
Either she’s blushing, or she just went to the toilet in front of him.
“I must get my things ready for work,” I whisper.
Ah yes, your job, where you do fuck all work and get upgraded to a fancy office for it.
“You know you don’t have to go back to work,” he murmurs.
And Christian reminds us all that he’s a fucking dinosaur.
Christian goes off to shout at his security for letting them get in a car chase. Ana decides to do some laundry and clean the butt plug, but bumps into the housekeeper in the corridor.
“Shall I take those for you?” She holds out her hands for my clothes.
…they are hiding the bowl with the butt plug in it!
Oh, Ana! The horseplay you and Christian do get up to!
Will I ever get used to having domestic staff at my beck and call?
Will you ever stop asking yourself this question?
Ana cleans the butt plug.
Part of me dreads going back to work. I am no longer acting editor – I am Anastasia Steele, editor.
So she’s actually the freaking editor now. WHYYYY??!?!
Taking the memory card out of the Nikon camera…
(you don’t need to tell us the make every time)
…I load it into the laptop to transfer the [honeymoon] photographs.
Holy crap! Picture after picture of me. Asleep … leaning over the rail of the yacht. I am cuddled on his chest and he gazes at the camera … in love.
Wait, he’s in love? I never realised that before!
She goes to his office, where he is analysing some CCTV footage from the server room. The one that mysteriously set on fire.
When the man is closer to the camera, Christian freezes the frame.
“Can you sharpen the picture at all?”
Holy crap! I know who it is.
“Christian,” I whisper. “That’s Jack Hyde.”
A shocking revelation to everyone except … us.
That’s quite enough of that.
Read Chapter Seven.