51 TINTS OF GRANITE

CHAPTER ONE

Email From: Christian Grey

Subject: Food Inbox: Zero

Date and Time: April 28, 2012;1:30 P.M.

Miss Steele,

The food tracking device I inserted in your stomach just beeped, which indicates to me that you have not eaten today. This displeases me...greatly. I am palm-twitchingly angry.

Christian Grey, CEO of Grey Holdings, Inc.

Oh, shit. The food tracking device! I had completely forgotten about that! God, he is so bossy. Demanding, creepy stalker, bossy McBoss pants. God, he is so hot. Just picturing his smokey gray eyes turning angry makes my stomach clench in that delicious way. What is that feeling? I am not even remotely in touch with my body or sexual feelings in any way, so I literally don't know what that feeling is, so I'm asking you. What is it called? I make a reminder to google that later, but for now I need to address his email. If I take more than 3 minutes to respond he shows up at my doorstep, the stalker...the sexy stalker. Oh! There is that feeling again. I jump off my bed quickly to change my panties, because now they are soaking wet for some reason. Is that related to the stomach clench? I have no idea, truly.

After I change my panties and calm the pounding down there I stare at the Mean Machine and try to formulate a response, but it takes me awhile because I have never owned a computer before, even though it's the 21st century and I just graduated from college, but geez I'M NOT A WHORE OK?

Email From: Anastasia Steele (no really, this is my name. It's not my porn name)

Subject: Stalker much?

Date and Time: April 28, 2012; 1:33 P.M.

Dear Sir,

No, I have not eaten yet today and I do sincerely apologize. I must be distracted by something...or someone. I have just ordered a pizza which will be arriving shortly. Hopefully this will satisfy the food tracker...and a certain complicated CEO.

Hungrily,

Ana

Ha! my inner goddess shouts while dancing the lambada (the forbidden dance) in a scantily-clad outfit best suited to a hooker. That'll show him!

Email From: Christian Grey

Subject: Pizza was on the list of forbidden foods...but I will let it go...this time

Date and Time: April 28, 2012; 1:33:21 P.M.

Miss Steele,

Oh, Miss Steele. You have me completely beguiled, bewitched, baited, bedeviled and bewildered.

Tonight. Dinner at my parents' house. Taylor and I will pick you up at 7 P.M. on the dot. We will drive to their house, eat food, make polite conversation, then I will throw you over my broad shoulders and fuck you until you cannot walk...literally. I plan on paralyzing you with sex.

Wear the bra and panties I bought you. Wear them inside out. And backwards.

Until tonight,

Christian Grey

"Fuck you until you cannot walk." What does he mean by that? Does he mean that his ample length will be inserted inside me and that he will thrust so roughly and with such vigor that my newly fucked vagina will be sore and that it will physically be painful for me to walk? Is that what he means? He is so cryptic! And so sexy!

I close the Mean Machine as the doorbell rings, indicating that the pizza delivery guy is here, and I eat heartily for the first time in weeks. It's just so hard to eat around him because he is so good-looking. Have you ever tried to eat around a man as handsome as Christian Grey? I sincerely doubt it because there is no man as handsome as Christian Grey. He is literally the most handsome man that has ever walked the face of the Earth. Just trust me on this. I will probably remind you again in a few sentences, but seriously. He is smoking hot. Ugh, there is that pulsating feeling in my sex again. What the fuck IS THAT?

As I am finishing up the pizza, Kate comes home from her run in the park. Leave it to Kate to make neon pink booty shorts and a sports bra look effortlessly sexy and chic. "Hey, Ana! What you been up to?" GEEZ, KATE! She is SO meddlesome! It's like 'enough with the Abu Ghraib waterboarding techniques already!'

"Not much...I just ate some pizza. There is a slice or two left if you're hungry" I manage to stammer out, thrown off by her incessant interrogation.

"Ohhh, thanks! Running always makes me famished!" she replied as she helped herself to a slice of pepperoni. "So, any plans tonight? Are you hanging out with Christian?"

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD SHE IS UNSTOPPABLE! She must have been trained by the special forces in effective torture techniques in another life or something.

"He invited me to dinner at his parents' house" I respond as casually as possible, hoping she will drop the inquisition act finally. I pray for relief with a change of subject. "How about you? What are you doing tonight?"

She smiles broadly and launches into her evening plans with Elliot, effectively throwing her off my trail. She really is relentless and I enjoy being out of the hot glare of the interrogation room spotlight for once. I am shy and quiet and not used to attention in any way shape or form. Is that why Christian thought I would make a perfect Sub?

I have so much to think about as I leave Kate to get ready for my dinner...and fuck session...with Christian. Oh, Christian. Sexy, creepy, fucked-up Christian. I start to daydream of his steely gray eyes, long fingers and lithe toned torso as the steam fills the bathroom and before I know it I am shaking with release as I ride out my orgasm right there in the shower. Did I really come just by thinking of how gorgeous he is? My inner goddess is exhausted as she melts into a puddle. What will he have in store for me tonight? Will he fuck me with a baseball bat? Is that a thing he is into? Is he going to truss me up like a Thanksgiving turkey and stuff me full of his cock? I am horrified at the notion...and yet...and yet...so turned on.

CHAPTER TWO

My insides immediately turn to mush as I answer the door and see Christian standing before me. He looks immaculate in his crisp white button down shirt, perfectly fit black wool pants, and oh my god...that tie. He is wearing that Ralph Lauren Purple Label tie again. The same one he used to tie me up for the first time, and the second time, and that other time that he also tied me up because he basically ties me up every time we have sex but anyway you know what I mean, which is that he wears this tie a lot and also uses it for bondage sex games and I'm not even sure why I am surprised to see it again but alas my nipples immediately form stiff peaks at the sight of it.

"Anastasia you look stunning this evening" Christian coos into my ear as I smell his heady scent of Blvgari Aqva Pour Homme cologne, Lexol leather cleaner, and K-Y jelly. I am drunk off this whiff of him within seconds, and I barely gasp out a feeble "hi" as I take his proffered hand and climb into the waiting vehicle.

"Are you hungry?" Christian asks as his Pantone 428 eyes smoulder into my soul.

"Well, not that hungry as I basically ate an entire pizza this af..."

"Ana, we've been over this. You MUST eat. I COMMAND it." He snatches his hand back from mine and rubs his temples.

Geez. Is he really mad about this? He is always telling me to eat and making a big deal about food and three square meals per day and he inserted that food tracker inside me and if I am not hungry he gets immediately angry but is he really that mad about it again? He is so confusing!

"I'm sorry, Sir. I was going to say that even though I ate pizza this afternoon, I really am starving now and will definitely clean my plate at your parents' house, and then I will indulge in dessert afterwards too."

Christian's slate colored eyes dance and glow and the smirk returns to his lips. "For dessert, perhaps we can have vanilla ice cream...vanilla is quickly becoming one of my favorite flavors, if you know what I mean."

I do not know what he means. I think perhaps he is making some kind of reference to sex, but really, he is so obtuse it's hard to tell.

Before I know it we arrive at his parents' home and I walk clumsily up the front steps, tottering on my heels (borrowed from Kate, of course, I only own Keds), meanwhile Christian gracefully glides towards the house he grew up in, looking like a sexy gazelle leaping over the Serengeti.

"Mom, I'd like you to meet Anastasia Steele" Christian says as he gently pushes me towards his mother.

"Anastasia, what a pleasure it is to meet you! Even though Christian is the handsomest man to ever exist, he has never brought a woman home to meet us! Why, we just assumed he was gay, especially since he always wears linen shirts. You know how the gays love linen shirts!"

"Thanks for that, Mom" Christian sneers as he rolls his eyes. Why does he get to roll his eyes but I don't? It's almost as if he is the dominant one in the relationship and I am the submissive one who has to do what he says. Huh. I'll never understand him and his mysterious, sexy ways. He is always speaking in code, saying things like "I am in charge and do not want you rolling your eyes because I am the boss" or "Please just shut up and do as I say" but it's like, what are you really saying, Christian? He should come with an instruction booklet! An instruction booklet, yeah right my snarky subconscious interrupts, more like a BDSM manual, or a contract so to speak, with spelled out instructions as to how this type of relationship works. You really are an idiot, aren't you, Ana? OH SHUT UP, SUBCONSCIOUS! NOBODY ASKED YOU!

I'm broken out of my reverie by the feel of his large hand grasping mine, with his other hand gently resting on the small of my back. I feel my body tingle at his touch, and all my senses are heightened. My inner goddess is about to perform a striptease at a 1980's Time Square peep show theatre. I have never seen or felt hands like his before. His fingers are long, and I blush scarlet remembering how he inserted those long fingers into my drenched nether regions the night before.

During dinner it takes every bit of strength I possess not to moan and whimper loudly at the sight of Christian eating his food. Oh, to be the morsel on his fork that gets to touch his perfectly shaped lips! To be the cloth napkin that is so luckily draped across his lap! I wish I could drape my body over his lap, and feel his manhood stand to attention from the slightest touch of my body against his. It seems that is all it takes with us. When he walks into a room I feel the electricity surge through my body, kind of like the time I went to the Science Museum when I was 9 and I touched my hand to the giant static ball and my hair stood up straight. It's like that, only, sexy.

"So, Anastasia, Christian tells me that you just moved into an apartment in Seattle with your best-friend from college. Did you have any help moving your things in?" Christian's mother, Grace, asks me politely.

"Yes, from my friend Jose" I answer honestly.

The mood in the room changes instantly. Christian stabs his knife violently into his salmon and continues the stabbing motion at least 10 times in a row, turning bright red in the process and making quite a bit of noise too.

Oh no. Is he mad? Is he going to hit me?

I feel his silvery eyes lock on mine and his look is so cold and disarming I am terrified and turned on all at once. Suddenly I feel his hand tightly grip my thigh and he whispers to me, "I am going to take you outside right now and make you pay for your mistakes. I told you to stay away from Jose and now I am going to make your ass burn from all the slapping I am going to do to it you naughty, insolent girl."

Is he going to slap my ass? Is he going to make me pay for my mistakes? Is he mad at me about failing to mention that I spent all of moving day watching Jose's muscled, caramel colored skin glisten in the sunlight as he hoisted box after box up stairs and into my apartment? I am so scared and want to run but Christian quickly excuses us from the table and drags me outside into the cool night air.

"Miss Steele I am extremely disappointed in you. I have forgiven your food missteps, and I have even ignored the fact that you haven't signed my contract yet, but now this? Now I have to contend with Jose too? I thought I made it clear that I am the only one who gets to go anywhere near your sweet spots, but apparently I didn't make it clear enough. I am going to fuck you harder than you have ever been fucked before and you are going to come at the exact moment I tell you, do you understand?"

"Yes...Sir" I mumble, afraid to anger him any further.

He throws me to the ground and commands me to sit. He slowly begins unbuttoning his shirt, taking his time because he knows it is driving me absolutely insane. He is so sexy I just want to take my teeth and rip each button off but he insists on torturing me with the slow reveal of his body. When his shirt is finally removed I am able to get a good look at his taut muscles and perfect six-pack abs. His pants are hanging off his hips in such a way that I think I may go blind if I keep looking. He is gorgeous. He is an Adonis that should be sculpted and shaped in marble and placed in a public square so revelers can come from miles around just to admire his perfect male form.

Suddenly he is over me, pressing his firm body into mine, sending sensations of pleasure all over me. He pushes me back onto the grass so that I am lying flat and he roughly grabs my hands and holds them above my head.

"Keep your hands above your head" he says as he secures them firmly with one of those little sandwich ties that hold loaves of bread? Where did he get one of those? Does he just carry those around? He is such an enigma! His eyes are glowing the color of cement and I hear his breathing turn into desperate pants full of passion and rage and control issues and it is so hot. I can barely keep my clit from exploding into a thousand pieces but he told me I couldn't come until he said and I do not want to anger him further, although, maybe I do? Do I like this? Is it abusive or erotic? I have no clue! I know next to nothing! About anything!

His full lips shower my collarbone with kisses as he works his way down my body, towards my inside-out, backwards bra. "You did as I said, good girl" he growls as he rips the bra off my body sending the metal clasp flying across the lawn. It makes me feel cheap AND alive. How can I feel both of these emotions at once? Is it possible that sexual intercourse can bring up many different feelings and deep-seeded emotions and desires? Could it be that sex is nothing like it is in Thomas Hardy novels? As a literature major I feel I should know if my favorite authors have been lying to me about sex. I make a mental note to go to the library later and research this using the card catalog, because as I mentioned I don't really know how to use a computer even though it's 2012 and I'm a middle class, college educated woman. I'm kind of an idiot.

"Shut the fuck up, Ana" Christian roars at me, his ashen colored eyes blazing with twisted erotic thoughts.

"I didn't say anything.." I stammer but he shoves his fist into my mouth and says "I can hear you thinking. It's...distracting. Now, suck my fist. Yes, ohhh Ana, yes, suck my first like it's a giant, lumpy lollipop. Yes, like that, baby."

Whoa. I am so turned on. What is it about fists? Why are they such boney, large sensual things? I close my eyes to further enhance my sense of taste and I hear Christian grab a foil packet and rip it open.

"Are you bleeding yet? Have you taken your first pill?" he asks, as demanding as ever.

Geez. Pry much, freak? Fuck. I want him inside me NOW.

"No, sir...not yet."

"Ugh. I fucking HATE condoms. I want to fuck you raw so that my ample manhood can feel every bit of your sweet, innocent sex" he moans as he plunges into me, fucking me wild with loud, smacking thumps.

"Oh!" I cry out, and there is that clenching in my belly again. Who knows what that is. Thomas Hardy never mentioned it.

"Do not come yet. I will tell you when you can come."

I want to run crying from his parents' lawn but I also want to stay in this position forever. I hate it and I love it. Christian continues his pussy assault and suddenly flips me over with deft arms so that my face is pressed into the grass and my ass is up in the air like George Clooney in that movie. Was that a bad analogy? I don't know, I've never been to the talkies. I only watch silent films because I am an old soul, into old things. Just like Christian, who listens to Thomas Tallis and opera. We are so in synch.

Have I been lying like this for 5 minutes or 5 days? I have no idea. I have lost all sense of time and have submerged myself deep into a pool full of passion, bobbing gently up and down on currents of pleasure, waves of lust crashing into my folds...

Oh! He is now standing in front of me and he commands me to look up. He is dressed in assless leather chaps and holding a cat of nine tails. What? How? When did he change into that? I am so confused.

"Now stop looking at me! I am going to hit you with this cat of nine tails and you will see the error of your ways. You want me to punish you, don't you?"

"Yes. Yes, Sir." I reply meekly, scared and excited all at once.

SMACK! The tassels smack into my ass with such force I actually shake all over. It hurts and my brain says I should make use of the safe word, but my vagina says "please, continue." My vagina wins and he keeps hitting me with the soft leather, sending pulsating pain to every nerve ending in my body.

"Now, COUNT. Count for me, Ana!" he is screaming wildly, commanding me.

"Two! Three!" I shout, wanting to writhe in pain but unable to move because he is holding me in place.

"Now, recite the preamble to the U.S. Declaration of Independence!"

"What? Are you..."

"JUST SAY IT OR I SWEAR I WILL SHOVE THIS CAT OF NINE TAILS UP YOUR PRECIOUS, VIRGIN ANUS."

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men..."

"Yes, Ana! Say it!"

"...are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator, with certain..."

"Yes! Fuck, Ana you are so incredible!"

"...unalienable rights, that among these are, life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."

"Anastasia! Yes! Now come! COME RIGHT THIS FUCKING SECOND!"

I come right that fucking second. I release the agonizing build up that had been growing inside me and ride the train straight to orgasm town with the swiftness of a bullet leaving a gun. Christian pierces my sex with his penis again and takes two deep thrusts and comes inside me with a flourish. It is amazing how he always lets me come first and then he comes immediately afterwards in perfect succession. It's really incredible how we both always come and it's never that one of us comes too soon or not at all and this is how sex always is. I know so much about carnal ways now that Christian has showed me his world. I understand sex perfectly now.

Christian is standing over me now, back in his black pants and white shirt...wait what? How? He is so amazing. He is fully dressed again and looking immaculate. He is a fascinating miracle.

He holds his manly hand out for me and beckons me to stand up. He pulls me up gracefully and places a single kiss on my forehead. "You did wonderfully, Ana. You are the most incredible woman I have ever met."

Yes! My inner goddess wraps her legs around the stripper pole and begins dry humping it in triumph! Little old boring ho hum me has made Christian the Greek God happy? I made him happy? I am over the moon with joy. In fact, I am so happy I actually blackout.

When I come to, I notice that Christian has placed me in an ice bath in his palatial apartment. Ahh, yes, this feels good on my sore ass and stretched pussy. He thinks of everything. I call out his name but hear no response. I slowly get out of the tub, wrap myself in a plush white towel and pad out into the living room, where I hear the most melancholic, yet beautiful music I have ever heard. Christian is playing the piano. He is such a puzzle. He is like a rubix cube gone retarded. I lean against the wall and close my eyes to savor the haunting concerto he so expertly plays with his long, Tim Burton character-esque fingers. I want to stay in this moment forever. I never want to feel anything again other than my aching ass cheeks. I realize, I love him. Oh no. Oh Ana, my subconscious warns. I need space to think. I need to go home to my apartment and try to work through my feelings...but first I need to sit on his lap and wrap my mouth around his erection. Priorities, you know.

CHAPTER THREE

I glance at my bedside table alarm clock with sleepy eyes and realize I have been asleep for approximately three days. Being a submissive sex goddess really exhausts me. I head into the kitchen and make myself a cup of Twinings English Breakfast Tea, because I was a literature major in college. I cradle the warm cup to my chest and stare out to the Seattle streets below.

It is only a moment before my thoughts turn to Christian. Am I in love with him? Although I am 21 years old I have never liked a guy before ever, and in fact, until I met Christian I wasn't even fully aware that I had a working vagina that could feel sexual things. So to think about being in love? I don't know how to handle this. I would ask Kate but in addition to the NDA, I also don't want to be subjected to her medieval torture interrogation techniques. Maybe I should call my Mother and arrange a visit in Georgia? Perhaps space is what I need to clear my head.

When my Mom's cell phone goes straight to voicemail I opt for sending her an email instead. I turn on the square electronic device that Christian gave me and it makes a beeping noise which I assume means it is now turned on and ready for me to use. I smash a few keys and say "SEND EMAIL ROBOT THING" but nothing happens. While I am shaking it back and forth trying to make it understand my commands, I hear a beep and see I have a new email from Mr. Anal Beads himself.

Email From: Christian Grey

Subject: Fuck Town, Population Us

Date and Time: May 1, 2012; 12:47 P.M.

Dear Miss Steele,

The sleeping device I inserted in your brainstem has indicated to me that you have now slept for over 72 hours and I am pleased by this. Per our (still un-signed) contract, you are required to do nothing but sleep when not in my presence, unless of course you are eating or emailing me, which are the only other allowed activities.

I hope to see you tomorrow for another marathon sex session in my Dungeon of Bondage. What time shall I swoop onto your apartment building rooftop with Charlie Tango to pick you up?

Yours,

Christian Grey

Holy Shit. Christian Grey wants to see me again. I allow myself to think for a brief moment that perhaps he is in love with me too? Oh! I arch my back and spasm uncontrollably as I come at the mere thought. That makes 400 orgasms in the last three weeks, which is 19 orgasms per day (I minored in math). I really cannot see him right now, I have too much to think about.

Email From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Fuck Town, Population just you

Date and Time: May 1, 2012; 12:49 P.M.

Dear Sir,

The sleep I experienced in the last three days has been the best sleep I've ever had, and I've had my fair share of sleep. Some might say I'm a slut for sleep (that's how this works, right? That is innuendo?)

I actually decided last minute that I am going to Georgia to visit my Mother tomorrow, and will remain there for one week before I begin interviews for internships, because once you graduate from college you try to find an internship and not an actual job. That is how it works in the real world.

While I am in Georgia I plan on thinking deeply about us because the truth is, I want more. I do not just want to be your sex puppet, but instead I'd like to be your sex puppet that you also talk to about things, kind of like Shari and Lambchop.

Try to understand, Christian.

Your Ana

I close the box thingie before my resolve falters. I know if I keep checking for a response from him I will lose all of my nerve and run to him tomorrow. No, I cannot do that. Not when I want so much more than he is willing to give.

The next day I settle into the spacious leather seats in the 1st class cabin and marvel at how Christian somehow managed to know what flight I was on and upgraded me. He is a magician, like David Blaine, except way better looking. After the flight attendants came by with drinks I fell into a deep sleep, only to wake at the sound of the pilot announcing our descent into Savannah.

I spot my mother and her husband, Bob, by the baggage claim and run to their open arms and begin hysterical crying.

"What is it honey? Oh, Ana, what's wrong, did you have a bad flight?" my mother asks with genuine concern in her voice.

"No, I was in 1st class and I slept the entire way and I am dating this guy who is super hot and rich and who fucks me into multiple orgasms per day but MY LIFE IS SUCH A MESS!" I wail into her shoulder as the tears fall by the bucket.

After my Mom and Bob calm me down we head towards the beach so that I can finally have time to think. On the way I quickly glance at the Blackberry Christian has given me, which makes me feel like a complete whore, but I decide I better tell him I arrived safely or he will probably gag and bind me next time he sees me. I get instantly wet at the thought. I type a quick message to Christian to tell him I've landed and that I really think this week apart will be good for us.

Ah, sunbathing in my tankini (because I would not wear a bikini because I am super self-conscious of my body even though Christian tells me I am a sex goddess I am still so innocent and childlike about my body!). I let the warm rays of the sun sear into my flesh and I decide to ask my Mother for advice.

"Mom, since you've been married 7 times I thought maybe you could help me with a guy question I have."

"Sure, honey. What is it you want to know?"

"Well, see, I've been seeing this guy, Christian, and he is so confusing...he tells me in very specific terms exactly what he expects out of our relationship and he even went as far as to write it all out in a contract, but I feel like he is just not being clear enough. If he says he wants me to follow all his rules and obey him, does that mean he wants me to follow all his rules and obey him?"

My Mother is silent for a moment as she mulls this over.

"Um, Ana, it sounds to me like he is being pretty clear...I'm not sure I understand what the problem is? I mean, in general men are always pretty upfront with what they expect and women tend to over-analyze what they say, when really they are pretty straightforward and this Christian especially sounds like a straight-shooter so...I guess what I'm trying to say is, what don't you understand here?"

Ugh. My Mom is NO HELP AT ALL. It's almost as though she thinks Christian is clearly stating what his intentions with me are. He SO isn't! He wants me to be his Submissive and exert complete dominance over me, and he doesn't do "hearts and flowers" and he wants to control me sexually and non-sexually but all of that just translates to a bunch of ?

Later that night my Mom and I go to a fancy hotel in downtown Savannah for drinks. Sex on the Beach for me, because I am schooled in the way of sexual desire now, and Cosmopolitans for my Mom because she thinks this is a Sex and the City movie. After a few drinks I am feeling bold and sassy and I decide to sext Christian.

Message From: Anastasia Steele

Hiya Sexface! I had some sex on the beach today and now I'm having it again at night hahaha see what I did there? JEALOUS? I bet u r bitch! Come and get some of this u control freak sex god oh wait u can't ur in Seattle lol I'm so horny 4 u tho lol and I'm biting my lip u know u want it stay away from me tho FREAK!

Take that, Christian! What are you gonna do now, huh Mr. Demanding? Oh! A text from Christian:

Message From: Christian Grey

Turn around. I am right behind you.

HOLY SHIT.