The new Fifty Shades of Grey book: an disdainful remove (maybe)

June 5, 2015 - Fifty Shades of Grey

“What’s her name?” we ask incisively.

“Virginia Nubile, your highness.”

“Very well, Miss Blonde,” we say, accidentally impregnating her while devising a heal for polio, winning a French Open and completing a $49zillion takeover of Latin America. “Send a bad lady in.”

Through a commanding doorway of my worldly bureau on a twelve hundredth level of a lush domicile of my kajillion-dollar tellurian craving stumbles a shy-looking immature woman.

“Good morning, Miss Nubile,” we say, regulating her with my perspicacious gaze, my boiling gaze, my heated gaze, my invariable gaze, my confidant gaze, my prohibited gaze, my cold gaze, my pale gaze, my grey gaze, my blazing gaze, my fiery gaze, my gazey gaze. “Do greatfully lay down.”

“Ooh er um golly gosh sup wow blimey oof cripes cor crikey!” she stammers, flushing dementedly.

At once we can see this lady is special. There’s something about her wittering immaturity, her pouting humourlessness, and her pathetically low self-respect that we find deeply alluring. And not usually that. She has a mind.

“Tee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee!” she gurgles, tripping over a hat-stand and alighting face-first in a wastepaper basket.

With my clever peaceful soothing severe prohibited cold virile proposal and above all profoundly heterosexual hands we lift her to her feet and lay her on a chair ($98,000, alien from a disdainful British interior pattern boutique DFS). In wordless astonishment she gapes during a medium equipment with that we have furnished a room. The potion cupboard displaying a Elgin Marbles, a Dead Sea Scrolls and a Holy Grail. The $86million bare mural of me, consecrated from puzzling artist Vincent Van Gogh. The first-edition duplicate of a Bible, sealed by a author.

“Tell me, Miss Nubile,” we say, wealthily, “what brings we to my gigantic edifice?”

Raptly we listen to whatever a ruin it is she gabbles during me for a subsequent 20-odd mins until finally a talk appears to be over.

“Until we accommodate again, honeyed Virginia,” we whimper irresistibly, causing her to swoon, disintegrate over a corner of a patio and plunge a 1,700 storeys to my white sandstone lobby.

I contingency see this boundless immature vamp again. we solve to compensate her a warn revisit during her place of work.

“Why, good afternoon, Miss Nubile,” we say, on arrival. “What a coincidence. we had simply no thought we had a part-time pursuit during a tiny hardware store a small four-hour expostulate from my business headquarters.”

“W-w-w-w-w-w-what can we do for you, Mr Grey, sir?” she gibbers, passionately.

we confirm to tease her with a array of pointed hints about my extracurricular interests.

“I’ll have a bin of pap clamps, a bathtub of liniment and 39 huge black dildos, please,” we say.

Soon we are intent in an overpoweringly trustworthy hitch of aroused love-making. My considerable length is using adult a peak of her sex, her middle enchantress is dancing a Lambada while reciting Eliot’s Four Quartets, and her dedicated femininity is entrance detached during a seams like a spin cycle on a Bosch WAE24063GB 6kg 1200 soaking appurtenance in immaculate steel with two-year guaranty (free home smoothness on comparison white goods, offer ends 17 July). In a power of a aspiration we are suggestive of a many distinguished star-cross’d lovers from British literature: Shakespeare, Hardy, Archer, Cartland, Blyton.

Yet already we can clarity that a adore will not final forever.

Quadruple crap,” she cries suddenly. “My customers!”

Graciously we assent her to disembark a checkout table and offer a aged integrate who have been watchful patiently to compensate for a Black Decker Workmate.


Christian Grey (left), CEO and owner of a Christian Grey Group Corporation Enterprises Holdings Company plc Ltd Inc

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