Fifty Shades of Grey – E.L. James

Fifty Shades of Grey (Fifty Shades, #1)

These days I must either be unconsciously walking the sanctimonious path to righteousness or in denial with the predicament of my sexual death. The 90s sitcoms mysteriously pop up on my television screen when my eyes count the oiled lashes bestowed on a stripped breasts of a writhing submissive. It never happens when I earnestly comprehend to Brzezinski rambling about how human race is caught between scientifically enhanced eras and he has no clue to sustain his ambivalent optimism. Unlike Joey who climbs through Dawson’s window, Vinnie had no Freudian inhibitions when he enters Doogie’s bedroom. Vincent Delphino was a quirky lad, clueless about Doogie’s diary. Doogie typing his daily conversant generalizations on a computer mesmerized a little girl. She took the diary with a vengeance, scribbling every word that jumped across her slothful mind; each night she wrote; ripping pages out the book dearly, wishing how wonderful it would be to have a computer like Doogie. Several years past by, the girl got a computer, her joy seemed no ends, she could type just like that teen she saw on the television. Then, the horror, the trauma of globalization; a certain E. L. James took to WORD churning out listless passages of bondage….., the girl came to know, she was curious , aghast and crushed. How could someone be so brutal to mock the very existence of wordy sexual reveries? That night as owls listlessly wandered over a cold roof and porous cherry red walls gave way to animalistic noises prevailing in the humidity blurring the moistening senses of pain; she wrote to the music of keypads misplaced in the deafening moans. If sex was so intensely rejoiced regardless the copulating demeanor, wouldn’t  it be fair to justify the act elegantly on paper?

—————————————-

From:- Bogged Down by Sexual Monotony
Subject:- Airy Fingers
To:- E.L. James

Those deep green irises undressed her through racing altitudes, stripping her to a little red number she had shopped during one of her trips to Munich. The nipple baring bra fiercely stretched over her pale skin. What was she thinking of wearing it on a 3-hr plane ride? She could have waited till she got into his apartment? Eagerness was getting the better of her and now she was vulnerable in this stranger’s eyes, feeling exposed. She trembled as his fingers glided over the black slacks, wetness dampened the linen on her thighs and sweat glistened on her lips. How she wanted him to stop, but her mouth gave away a loud assertion. As he inched forward her toes curled kicking her brand new Louboutins in aisle. I must be crazy, she thought. What could this stranger possibly do? Does he know I’m a trainee? Could he be…? Is he..?…..

Could I pen an erotica like you too? I guarantee I can churn out more series than Stallone can film Rocky. I may deter from using elementary vocabulary for such a ravenous sexual act, nevertheless I would not mind spurning a “holy fuck”, or a “holy shit” or even a voluminous repetition of “oh dear God…oh dear God!! Is that really you God or Elvis”?

Write back soon.
——————————————

From:- BDSM
Sub:- Is Mr. Grey in fact Edward Cullen in disguise?
To:- E.L. James

Does Christian Grey harbor a blood sucking fetish? Or is really Edward Cullen who gave up stalking teenagers and now indulges in some bondage sex? Could you enlighten me on the whole “twilight fanfiction “euphoria, Master? I’m quite the naïve sub here who needs your teachings in these maddening comparisons? If I may speak Master, I reckon the “twilight notion” is in fact the brightening prospects of how both seem to miraculously excel in irksome literature. Am I going to be punished for this, Master?

Write back soon, Master.
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From:- BDSM
Sub:- Sexually adventurous or a sexual juvenile?
To:- E.L.James

“Holy shit! I’m on Google”…Could I be more excited?” Are you depicting on how Chandler would bang Monica in their lavender hued living room? Hmm….could I be hornier?. Symptomatic peculiarities accompanying hyperventilation, genital excitement, twitching of limbs which can lead to a crossbow maneuver, parched thoracic uneasiness and in extreme cases a heavy bout of cold showers; the vigor of a sexual act that screams orgasm seems to have lost it way among juvenile incoherence of foreplay and verbal foul play But, all is not lost and there is after all a dim flicker at the end of this unexciting tunnel. The classification of the BDSM hits the right nerve. Dominant….Submissive……Switch….? Although it may look sadistic, bondage lifestyle is consensual. Some like to indulge in a caviar cream while others in a furry handcuff tightly cuffed on a St. Andrews as the oiled whip lashes away on bare skin. Clandestine acts are highly respected as it is frown by sexual prudes. If one likes troubled waters rather than smooth sailing, why hang the mutineers? Christian is a high-quality Dom but lack the severity that comes with the title. Ana seems to be a virgin until the end page. “Five more lashes on the bare ass” sounds more desirable than “Hope he removes my panties”….. too soon or too audacious? Are we a bunch of sexual prudes or sexual nincompoops who will fall for any categorized erotica for it mere usage of a BDSM glossary?

Write back soon.
———————————————–

From:- BDSM
Sub:- Is it farewell?
To:- E.L.James

A goodbye seems a distant thing now. There is more pain coming. Are you pleasured enough to experience it again?

Write back soon.
——————————————-

Afterword.

The girl measured each word that her fingers danced to. How could she stop now? She yearned for more. This was not sufficient; the voice from the adjoining room became louder with every thump on the treacherous walls. Deeper and deeper as her thoughts pierced the murky air, she knew the woman across the room did not see Elvis but something much more ravishing.

To improvise Henry Miller;
What’s a fuck, when I want is a spectacular erotica?

2/5**

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