A/N - At long last, another installment of Porn star Christian.

Thank you for your patience. This chapter was a bitch to write. Not sure why. It is also my longest ever to date. I hope you enjoy it.

Shout out to Kerry for your lemon advice. And shout out to my fellow Manuel Ferrara and James Deen fans in the corner. You know who you are.

Oh, and many thanks to the ever amazing Netzel for letting me use/abuse poor Jake once again. Much love to you!


It slipped out before I knew what I was saying. Dinner. Sometime. With me. Fuck. Why did I do that? What the fuck was I thinking? Yeah, she was hot, but - Christ! You don't date. Christian Grey doesn't do 'dates'. No romance. No hearts and flowers. Not with girls who are in the business, not with girls who are not in the business. Too messy. Too complex. They end up wanting more and you can't give them that. Or they try to change you, and that ain't gonna happen. You've got way too much fucked up baggage. And you're not the wine'em and dine'em type, remember? You're more ... fuck'em and chuck'em.

"Christian?" The leggy red-head raised her head from my lap. "You okay?"

"Oh. Yeah, Cherry." Startled, I give her a quick smile. "Sorry, I'm just a little distracted."

"I can tell. Should I do something different?" she asked, sitting back and fondling her own breasts. Tongue at her lips, she narrows her eyes in a steamy look for the director taking still shots with the digital SLR camera.

Focus, Christian! You're working, here! A mere ninety minutes spent with Ana has turned my world upside down. I'm feeling a little unsettled by my response to her and the out-of-character measures I took to spend some time in her presence again. Namely, asking her out on a motherfucking date.

"No, no, Baby. That's just fine. I'm back." I thrust my pelvis back up towards her face, wordlessly encouraging her to continue.

"Are we done with the chatting here? I think I've got enough hummer shots for the stills. Let's get a C-lamp on her, I think we're going to need a little more light." Mark, the director barks out from behind the camera as his assistant rushes to set everything up to his specifications. "I want this to be a totally primal fuck the whole time. Give her all you've got. Let's go with four position changes, five if you can swing it, then the money shot. Facial, not a creampie."

I nod.

"We'll take it from your line, Cherry. And we're rolling again."

"How's my temperature, doctor?"

"You're very hot. I'm going to need to perform a very special procedure to get you feeling better."

Cherry grins and finishes her oral ministrations with a slurp. Shaking off my distraction, I focus on my work. Deftly flipping her over onto her back on the exam table, I spread her legs and press my mouth to her pussy, running my tongue along her folds and lapping up the juices as she writhes and moans in response beneath me. I wonder what she tastes like? Is she shaved? Or has she got a landing strip? My thoughts drift, yet again, to my latest favourite distraction, picturing Ana spread out in front of me, gripping the sheets and grinding her mound against my face. My dick throbs at the thought. Much as I've been at war with myself over the whole "date" thing, to be honest – I can't stop thinking about her in all manner of contexts.

"Oooh, Christian. Yessss!"

Instead of Ana's throaty whisper, the shrill voice of my co-star startles me out of my reverie.

Oh right. Shit, would you focus on what you're doing? Where's your sense of professionalism, man?

For the first time since I can remember, my mind is on something else while at work. That's pretty fucked up, considering what I do. Ana's got me in some kind of voodoo mind trap.

I slide my fingers into the dripping pussy in front of me while circling the clit with my tongue. "I think it's time for an internal exam."

Trap? You feeling trapped already, big guy? My inner business mogul chimes in trying to patch the cracks Ana has created in my wall.

Okay, fine. One date does not a trap make. Truth be told, I'm actually excited to see her again. I don't know when exactly I started my dating embargo. I don't think it was a conscious decision, just that the idea of dating and relationships had never truly appealed to me. Fucked up past and an early and an unconventional start to my career have stifled my inner Romeo and left me feeling jaded about relationships and romance. I have everything I need in my life right now to keep me happy. Enough pussy to keep my inner Sex Beast happy, money, fame, freedom. I'm finally where I've dreamed of being. Who could want anything more than that? Hey it's one date. One date is not going to take down the amassed empire of Christian Grey, Porn King. It's just a fun hook-up to get her out of your system. My inner Romeo almost has Mr. Business convinced. The inner beast just wants to fuck. It doesn't matter with who. As long as the beast is fed, he's good with whatever the other guys want to do.

"Oh, fuck yeah! I'm gonna come I'm gonna come I'm gonna come I'm gonna come I'm gonna cooooooooome!"

The subtle cues before me signal that my partner is just about ready for her first climax. This isn't my first scene with Cherry. I happen to know from previous experience, she's got a sensitive clit, but likes hard, fast penetration. It takes just the right touch from a partner to make the magic happen. Her G-spot is just a hair to the left of center. She gives a little whimper and a gasp right before she orgasms. She's a writher. And a screamer.

For me, fucking women is like driving cars. They've all got different preferences and triggers between them – this one has a closer friction point, that one's gear box is a bit tricky and needs a bit more finessing, that one needs a long warm up but after that she can go for miles. I've needed to drive a lot of cars to figure out the sweet spots. It doesn't take me long, though, to figure out just exactly how to get each one of their engines purring. I've accrued quite a mental catalogue of most if not all of the women I've fucked and each of their sexual idiosyncrasies. Name any of the porn stars I've banged and I could tell you how to have her screaming my name in under 30 seconds. I'm dedicated to my craft. Years of experience have given me the ability to read my partner quickly and know exactly how to get the best scene out of her. With Cherry, she needs just the perfect combination of hitting her clit from the side with a tapping, sliding motion while applying just the right amount of pressure to the magic patch inside and...

"Oh GOD!"

My work is rewarded with a gush of liquid as she trembles and comes.

"Hey, this wasn't supposed to be a squirt movie. Aw hell, just go with it." Mark is pumped. I grin and move up to position my hardness at her entrance, kissing her roughly as I do so. I wonder what Ana looks like when she ... Dammit! No. Focus! Fuck it, what's my next line again? Oh right.

"Get ready for your injection, Miss. Don't worry, this won't hurt a bit." Christ, who writes this shit?

I know what the porn viewing public wants and likes, and I know exactly how to get the best out of my partners in front of the camera to capture it. It makes my job easier. It makes her job easier. And when we're both enjoying ourselves, it sells the videos and makes us all rich and happy. But something about Ana has me bordering on obsession. She's knocking me off my game. Not good. I can't afford to be off my game.

I settle back into the groove of the familiar. Literally. Sliding in and out of her wet tunnel as she moans in rapture beneath me, I pause and spread her legs out a bit further, giving her a swat on the ass before continuing. "Do you like that? Huh? Do you want it hard?"

"Fuck yes! Pound that pussy!"

"Cherry, open up a little wider so we can see him moving in and out of you. Christian, get her legs up higher." Mark calls from off camera.

Back to the grind. Oh look, I made a funny!

Back in work mode, I go back to doing what I do best, putting thoughts of Ana on pause for now and putting all my focus on the task at hand.

. . . . .

"Amazing! Thanks Christian." Cherry gives me a friendly hug.

"Any time, babe. It's always a pleasure working with you. Is your elbow okay? Sorry about the floor burn."

"No, no. It was worth it. I think that was my best scene yet!" Cherry glances at her phone as it rings. "Oh, sorry, it's Johnny. I've got to take this."

"No worries. Tell him I said 'hi'."

Cherry nods in acknowledgement. "Hey baby... Yup, we just finished... It was great! We started with a squirt scene and went from there... No, I never knew I could either. Christian is amazing! He says 'hi' by the way." She flashes me a smile. "So am I picking up the kids or are you?"

Cherry disappears to get dressed while chatting on the phone with her boyfriend, Johhny Star. Great guy. We worked together on a gang bang scene a few years ago. He and Cherry hooked up and had twins last year. I don't know how they balance family with working in this industry, but they seem happy. As I check my phone for messages, a familiar blonde strides towards me from the shadows.

"Christian!" She kisses me near each cheek, unfazed by my nudity.

"Elena. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Darling, I've booked you for a promotional meet-and-greet at the adult expo in Seattle next month. That should time nicely with the latest video release. The VMA's are a few months after that. I want you to hit a few circuits between shoots before then."


"I'm also chatting with a Washington producer about shooting a scene for an anal compilation. He's based out of that area so while you're there... two birds with one stone! I can get the details to you by next week once I've sorted that out with him. He's good. Started with the gonzo stuff – the party bus series. He's trying out more scripted scenes and wants some bigger names for that."


"Brash was looking for two woodsmen to do a DP scene next week, but I may have you booked for a BDSM thing with Leila."

"I don't know if I want to work with Leila again, she was pretty fucked up the last scene I did with her."

"She's finally off the coke, apparently. Besides, it's still all up in the air. I'll let you know what I've got for you once it's all confirmed."

I nod as I pick out a ripe pear from the fruit bowl on the table in front of me.

Elena eyes me suspiciously.

"Everything okay, pet?"

I stifle the urge to roll my eyes. God she hates that!

"Just tired."

"Well you've got a number of bookings coming up. Don't wear yourself out! I need you fresh faced and ready to sell for the next few weeks. Nice work today, by the way, darling. You've been working out." She trails her fingers along my abs, licking her lips suggestively. I pull away slightly, to which she shoots me a glare, but continues. "Keep it up. You're hotter than ever. I'm getting calls for you left, right, and center!" She pats my cheek and gives one of my nipples a pinch before stepping away. "Don't forget, DVD release party next weekend at Lush. I've got some people coming I want you to talk to about expanding your toy line. The advanced sales numbers for the dildo are promising."

"Sure, sure. I'll be there."

"Oh, and there's a dinner meeting this Friday with a new producer. We're discussing some franchising options. This could be very big for us. It may be the first step towards taking your career to the next level."

"Ah. Actually, I sort of have plans this Friday."

Elena cocks one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "So cancel them."

That thought causes a sudden growl to form at the back of my throat.

Whoah. What the fuck was that? Elena appears stunned for a moment, as do I.

"I'm not cancelling, Elena. And I don't appreciate the last-minute invitation."

She bristles as she narrows her eyes disapprovingly. "I suppose I could reschedule, but it took me months to get this preliminary meeting arranged."

I shrug. "If they're that keen, they'll re-book. Besides, I trust you to suss it out. If they seem serious, I'll meet with them the next time to settle details."

She ponders this, eying me warily. "I don't like when you defy me, pet."

"Elena –"

"Christian," she softens, slightly. "I'm your agent. I'm just looking out for you. Have I steered you wrong before?"

"No." I concede.

"No. I haven't. Now I'll let this slide. I'm sure I can swing this meeting without you, but you really need to be where I tell you, when I tell you."

I sigh and nod.

"I just don't understand what's so important that you can't possibly make this meeting."

"I'm... I've got... It's... " I really don't want to go into this with her. She's been a part of my life and has advised my every move from day one. I owe my success to her, it's true. But to let her in on my date with Ana? It just doesn't feel quite right to reveal that. "It's nothing you need to worry about. I can't make it Friday and can't reschedule." I don't want to reschedule. "I'll make the next one if you give me a bit more advanced warning."

"Fine." She gives a dismissive sniff and checks her watch. "I've got to go. I'll see you next week, darling."

Another set of air kisses and she flit out of the room trailing a cloud of perfume.

I run my fingers through my hair while I sit in the dressing room and send a quick text to Ana before I shower.

C: Hey, it's Christian! Are we still on for tomorrow?

Oddly, my stomach quivers with nerves as I await her response. She could bail. That'd make it easy for you, wouldn't it? I find myself on edge with every passing unanswered minute. As much as I try to convince myself that this date doesn't matter, my gut tells me otherwise.

Moments later,

A: Hi! Yes. If you still want to.

I can't help but smile thinking of her blue eyes and flushed cheeks. My inner romantic gives a triumphant fist pump.

C: Of course I do.

Nice. Play it cool.

A: Okay. Yes. We're still on then.

C: Excellent. Do you like art? I've got a buddy with an art exhibit opening Friday and I promised him I'd go. We can check it out after dinner?

A: Sounds interesting.

C: I hope it will be.

A: I'll silently judge you if it's not. ;)

C: Wonderful. Bring it on, baby. : ) I'll pick you up around 6?

A: Perfect! 1215 Palm court. Buzz 22

C: Can't wait! Laters.

Somehow I find myself grinning like a fool. Okay, maybe this will be okay. No big deal. Just a bit of fun, have your date, fuck'er, chuck'er, then back to business as usual.

. . . .

Date Night

I pull up to her apartment, surprisingly nervous.

Play it cool, Christian! Don't fucking over-think this. Just a pleasant diversion, right? The inner romantic is rubbing at my shoulders like a coach prepping a prize fighter in his corner of the ring. Wait, is that a rose between his teeth? Gah. Focus. Mister Business is sulking, and The Beast is pacing and waiting to be fed.

I stride to the door and press the buzzer, checking my breath quickly.

The intercom crackles. "Hello?"

"Hi. It's Christian."

"Hey! I'll be right down!"

I give myself another quick once over in the reflection on the front door. As usual, my copper hair is tousled to perfection. T-shirt, jacket, designer jeans, expensive leather shoes. Yep. I look hot. Shit, if I were a chick, I'd so bang me.

I spot her striding out of the elevator. Her image is superimposed with my reflection for a moment, and it makes my breath catch in my throat upon seeing her. And me. Together.

The door opens, and she steps out, almost in slow motion like something out of a music video (minus the windswept hair and "Dream Weaver" playing in the background). She's a fucking vision. Paradise in a plum sheath dress and gold, heeled sandals. An oasis amid the collagen and silicone wasteland I've been swamped in all day. All week. Okay, for the past 14 years. In an instant, a curiously primal surge reminds me why I was compelled to ask her out. This ripple has caused a shift in my footing, I can feel it. This feels... almost monumental. I still can't put my finger on what exactly attracted me to her. She's fucking HOT! Okay, yes, she's beautiful, but something about her struck a chord with me and left me wanting more, questing after a grail I hadn't realized I wanted until now.

She takes a step towards me and promptly pitches forward, her heel caught in a crack on the sidewalk.


I catch her with ease, righting her back on her feet again.

"Easy there." Flustered, she straightens her dress. I take another sweeping gaze at her. "Anastasia. You look -" She braces herself, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "You look great." She looks like she was put together by the gods themselves."Great"? Is that the best you can do? I don't know if I should worship at her feet or fuck her right here."Great" does not begin to describe how amazing she looks. Mental note: buy a thesaurus to appease the inner romantic. He seems a little bitter that I haven't let him out to play for a while. Even Mister Business is stunned into silence for a moment. The inner beast is... well, he's humping the air right now, but that's status quo for the beast.

Stifling further arguments from my id, ego, and superego, I draw her close and give her a peck on the cheek. Fuck. She even smells amazing. I think I just came a little.

"Thank you." She replies modestly, biting at her lower lip causing the beast in my jeans to give a lurch. Down boy. Her hair is back in a loose braid. Sheathed in a simple dress that hugs her curves, she is both sweet and sexy, her outfit hinting at what lies beneath rather than crassly displaying the goods for all to see.

I use my thumb to free her lip and let it linger there for just a moment, stroking it gently. "Anastasia," I murmur hoarsely.

"Wh – what?"

"Don't bite your lip. It does things to me." I reply darkly.

Ana's breath catches and she fidgets with her purse, avoiding my gaze. "Holy fucking fucker," I catch her muttering while I take the moment to subtly re-adjust myself.

"Hey," I lift chin to catch her eye. "What's up?"

"I'm sorry. Can I be honest?"

I nod. "Of course."

"I'm a little nervous. Okay, I'm a lot nervous. I'm really, really fucking nervous. Shit."

"I hadn't noticed." I respond drily.

She gives a sheepish grin and a shrug. "And I'm sorry, I swear like a trucker when I'm nervous. When I'm faced with any sort of... strong emotion really. Good or bad." Interesting. I wonder if I can make her cuss a blue streak when she orgasms.

"Don't be sorry, It's actually kind of cute. But why are you nervous?"

She gathers her thoughts for a moment, then shakes her head. "I just can't believe this is happening. Going on a... okay, what is this exactly?"

"I don't know, I guess it's just a chance for us to get to know each other better. You and me, hanging out. I believe in most circles it's commonly referred to as a 'date'."

She rolls her eyes and I find her insolence fires me up even more. "Christian, I still can't fathom why you would want to go on a date with me."

I can't stop thinking about you and The Beast wants to see if you have a landing strip.

"You're beguiling, Anastasia. I don't know what it is about you. I really wanted to spend some time with you again."

She appears genuinely flustered at the compliment. "I'm sure there are scores of women you could be going out with."

"I wanted you. I asked you."

"But guys like you –" she gestures up and down at me "don't tend to ask out girls like me." sweeping arm gestures at herself.

"Wow. Okay, first, if by 'guys like me' you mean heterosexual and with a pulse and a working penis? Then if we don't tend to ask out 'girls like you' there's something very wrong with the world and I don't want to live in it anymore."

That gets a small smile out of her. "Did you just quote Futurama?"

"I may have." I smirk. "Second, I told you why I asked you out, so I'd say you're wrong. Guys like me do tend to ask out girls like you."

She laughs, nervously. "You're very... intimidating, Mister Grey."

"Me? Or the concept of 'Christian Grey, sex god' as you so flatteringly put it?"

She ponders this for a second.

"You. And the concept too, I guess."

"You don't even know me." Maybe she does. Maybe she's right to be intimidated. You were intending to hit her up for a quick one night stand. Woo her, then get in, get off, get out. The usual. Well, I was and I wasn't. I'm still at war with myself over what I want from her, exactly. Damn your witchcraft, woman! I soften, and offer gently, "Would it be of any comfort to you to know that I'm nervous too?"

Her gaze locks on mine. "Really?"

I nod. "Yep. Honestly." I reach out and take her hand, stunned for a moment by the same electric ripple I felt when I first made contact a few days ago. "Let's just go have some fun, okay? I'm just Christian, you're just Ana. We're just two crazy kids out on a date. Or whatever you want to call it. A non-date. A casual, fun, friendly non-date. No pressure. Let's just see how things go. And I promise won't make any slick moves to get into your panties. Unless you want me to. Scout's honor." I hold up my hand flashing my first, middle, and pinkie fingers in a dirtier mock-up of the Boy Scout salute.

Ana cocks a dubious eyebrow. "That's not the scout's –"

"Shh. Enough with the details," I respond with a wink. "Honestly, I'll try to be on my best, most gentlemanly behaviour tonight."

"Well, not too gentlemanly, I hope." She chuckles softly and I lift her hand to my lips and brush a soft kiss on her knuckles. "Sorry, I'm such a freak," she apologizes.

"No, my dear. You're right to be wary. Let me assure you, though. I work with many freaks. You are, by far, the least freaky person I've encountered in a long time. It's refreshing. In fact, that's kind of why I wanted to see you again." I cup her face and gently brush her cheek with the pad of my thumb. I would be perfectly happy just standing here touching her for the rest of the night. Mister Romantic is swooning. We've got plans, however, so I reluctantly break contact and we start walking.

"Wait, why are you nervous?" she questions playfully as I lead her towards my R8.

"I told you. I don't date. I'm kind of new at this."

She shakes her head at this. "I still find that hard to believe."

"It's... complex."

"We'll go easy on each other then. No pressure from you. No freaky porno fan-girl geekery of any kind from me. I'll try to rein it in."

"Deal." I smirk.

Once underway, Ana relaxes.

"Italian okay for dinner?"

"Mmmm. Yes. And then the art thing?"


"So where is this exhibit anyway?"

"According to the address my buddy sent me, it's across town."

"I don't know of any galleries that far outside of the arts district."

I shrug. "That's the address he gave me."

We drive wordlessly for a few minutes.

I decide to break the ice with a soft-ball question. "So are you from here originally?"

"No, I moved here from the Seattle area for school."

"Seriously? My family is from Seattle too. I grew up there."

"Get out! When did you move to LA?"

"A while back. About the time I started in the business."

"Have you been back recently?"

"I go back from time to time. I didn`t leave on the best of terms, and things with my family are lukewarm at best, so mostly I talk to my mom on the phone every so often. How about you?"

"Well, my mom is in Florida. I go see her whenever I can, about once or twice a year. She comes to visit me whenever she can swing it. My dad is in the Montesano area. I grew up with him, so head up for a few weeks usually at the end of each semester and spend a bit of time with him."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

She shakes her head. "No, it's just me. After my parents divorced, my mom remarried but never had any other children. Dad never remarried. So, yeah. Just me. How about you?"

"I`ve got an older brother and a younger sister. We`re all adopted."

"I didn`t know that. Did you know your birth parents?"

I shake my head. "No. Fleeting memories, but that`s it. I was apprehended by the state after being neglected and abused. I was in foster care for a few months, but then my parents adopted me." Ugh. Was that too much information too soon? I don't want to scare her off. Shit got real pretty fast just now, but there's no escaping my past, really. The best I can give her is the abridged version of my fucked up history.

"I'm sorry. What a tough start to your life."

I shrug. "It is what it is. I'm pretty lucky, actually. I was adopted into a really good family. My parents..." I pause and sigh for a moment. How do I encompass all I've been through with my parents without delving too deep for a first (and only – Mr. Business chimes in) date? "Well, my folks gave me everything, but you don't really realize how fortunate you are until you're older and removed from the situation, I guess. I was always the black sheep, butted heads with everyone."

"Do you get along with your siblings?"

"I haven`t really been in contact with either of them for a while. I`d say I`m closer to my little sister than my older brother. We chat from time to time, but I`ve been distant from both of them."

"Do any of them know what you do for a living?"

I shake my head. "I don`t think so. I`ve never told them. My brother is a bit of a party animal, so maybe he`s found out, but he`s never asked me about it or told me he knows. My sister. Oh god, I don`t think I want her knowing what I do. She`s an adult but in my head she`ll always be the innocent little kid I knew and loved growing up." I smile wistfully. "Mom and dad? I don`t think they know either. Again, they`ve never said anything, so if they do know, they`ve kept their reactions a secret from me."

"You`re such a big name in the business now. You`d think they`d have heard of your work in some context or another."

"Not in the circles they run in. Although if I start getting more mainstream exposure, it`s probably just a matter of time."

"What do you think they`d do if they found out?"

I shrug. "Stop talking to me completely? I`m not sure. They`d be disappointed, I do know that much. I think they`d always hoped I had gone into business or law or something."

"But you're the most successful porn actor out there, in a field where men are usually making only a small percentage of what the female talent makes. You're building an empire. Like you said in the interview: you're living the dream."

"I don't know. I think they'd still consider it dirty money and wouldn't want to be associated with it."

"What do they think you do now?"

"Online promotions and behind the scenes work in the film industry. I haven't exactly specified which film industry though, and I usually remain vague whenever I talk about work." I smirk.

A little more at ease, Ana appears more relaxed as she settles back into her seat. "So, what kind of art does your friend do?"

"Photography. He does a bunch of different things. Portraits, landscapes. I'm not sure what he'll be showing at this exhibit, he didn't tell me much about it but he seemed pretty excited. I've seen some of his work before, and he's actually pretty good. I'm not a big fan of high-brow art stuff most of the time, but I really like his work. He's really good at capturing emotions. Finding the beauty where you least expect it, the exotic in the mundane."

"How did you meet him?"

"He actually used to work in the industry."


"Yup. He's only got fewer than a hundred films under his belt, but he did good work and was pretty popular. You may have heard of his industry name. 'The Goat'. Sort of like Ron Jeremy was called 'The Hedgehog' because of his hairy back. My buddy had a goatee and, well he sort of looked like a goat with it."

"Oh! The goat! Yes! I've heard of him, but I don't think I've seen any of his work. Does he still work in the industry?"

"No. He's pursuing the artist/photographer gigs now. It's so great for him. He's super talented. It can be hard to move from the porn industry into the mainstream, but he's got enough talent for people to overlook his previous line of work."

"Is that something you'd like to do eventually?"

"I haven't really considered it, honestly. I'm at a good place with working in porn right now. I've found what I'm good at and I don't think I'm ready to move on from it yet."

I glance at Ana, now playing with the clasp of her purse.

"So do you watch a lot of porn?"

Ana burst out laughing. "I see we're moving from the easy ice-breaker questions into the hard stuff now!"

I retort with mock defensiveness, "Well, I feel like an open book. You've seen me naked and Interviewed me, and all. I want to get to know you a little more than the typical ice-breaker questions will tell me. So do you watch a lot of porn, typically?"

"I've watched a lot more since I started working for the magazine."She says evasively.

"Did you watch before you worked with them?"

"Honestly?" She bites her lip. Oh she's going to have to stop doing that if she doesn't want me to pull over and ravage her at the side of the road.

"You've seen me naked, Miss Steele. Yes, I'd like an honest answer."

"Not really."

"Do you mind porn? Is it something that squicks you out?"


"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, you know."

"Oh, I'm not embarrassed. Well, not as embarrassed as I would have been before this job. I'm pretty open minded, but I feel like I've only seen the tip of the iceberg, though. And chatting about it with you? I feel that even more so."

"Kink and smut runs pretty deep. I've been in the business for years, and I've seen and done a lot, myself, but I know there are things that I'd never venture into. Kids. Animals. Scat. Snuff. Clowns."

"Oh my god, I saw a clip of clown porn once. So disturbing."

"Right? And Furries. Not into that."


"People dressed in animal costumes boinking each other." I clarify.


I nod.

"And did Christian Grey, Sex God, just use the term 'boink'?"

"I might have." I reply, raising an eyebrow in mock indignation.

"You're kind of adorable, you know that?"

I snicker. "I'm a Sex God. I am far from adorable."

"You used the term 'Boink' in a sentence. I'd say that's pretty fucking adorable."

"Come on, if we're talking about people dressed up as stuffed animals, I'm using a cutesier word than 'fuck'. 'Boink' fits the bill. It's a technical... professional... thing."

"Fine. Boink."

"Boink." I bite my lip to keep from smiling. "Don't let anyone know I used that term. I could get kicked out of the hardcore porn union."

Ana mimes zipping her lip, locking it, and throwing away the key.

"Anyways, you name it, there's a niche for it. Japan? There's some crazy ass shit happening in Japan. Think of the weirdest, most whacked-out thing to be turned on by, and guaranteed, someone, somewhere is into it, and there'll be someone, somewhere who's willing to film it for money for them. The porn industry is huge. I've done a lot, but I sometimes feel like I'm still just on the tip of that iceberg."

"What's the weirdest thing you've done?"

Hmmm... treading on thin ice there. Do I give her the sanitized version, or let her see my 50 shades of fucked up? Oh hell, why scare her off? It's a fucking first (and only! – Mr. Business shouts) date. Stick to the vanilla version.

"Some of the BDSM scenes I've done have been pretty intense. Some of my scenes can get pretty dark."

Dude. You're scaring her off. Well, maybe that's a good thing. Keep up the Christian Grey Sex God facade, and you won't have to worry about protecting her from the depravity, she'll probably head for the hills on her own after getting to know you. The truth is, I've been through a lot of fucked up shit in this career. I'm on the fringes. I always have been. I don't know how much she'd understand or appreciate, so for the sake of not scaring her off, I'm keeping my mouth shut. No need to open that Pandora's box. My shit stays my shit. Before we tread even further down the path of airing my filth and depravity, I steer the conversation towards lighter fare. Back to the first date, get-better-acquainted fluff.

We arrive at one of my favorite Italian restaurants for dinner. Over drinks, we go through more get-to-know-you questions in rapid-fire succession. Random stuff: favorite color, favorite movie, favorite food. We covered quirks and personality traits. She's clumsy (as evidenced earlier), and a little neurotic when it comes to cleaning. She had braces until she was fifteen, and played the violin until the eleventh grade. I'm a comfort eater, have a superfluous third nipple, and would eat breakfast for every meal if I could. While dining on gnocchi and pesto, we discuss first crushes, worst dates, embarrassing moments, music, sports, movies, books, her nervous swearing habit, and my pathological fear of spiders, our mutual love of TV geekery. By the time we got to tiramisu and coffee, we've achieved a comfortable banter. We discuss celebrity fuck lists, ponder dream casting for as-of-yet unmade movies of books we love, and make up inane dialogue for random restaurant patrons. I've never been so relaxed and at ease with a woman before. It was enchanting. Delightful. She made me horny as fuck, to boot. Why have I not dated before? Oh yeah, because every woman I could potentially date has been a psycho hose beast. Nothing like Ana.

I would have loved to sit and chat with her longer (or do other things with her. Unf.), but it was time for stage two of our date: the art exhibit. After dinner, an a short drive, we arrive at our destination. Ana surveys our surroundings and eyes me warily.

"Is this the right place?"

I double check the address and directions that my buddy gave me to the gallery and nod. "Looks like it."

Okay, when I say "gallery", I use the term very loosely. It is really a run-down shell of what was once a motel in a quiet city suburb.

"Uh..." Ana gives me a confused look.

"I know it doesn't look like a typical place for an art exhibit, but this is the address he gave me. Besides, there's a bunch of people going in, see?" Indeed, there were others milling about and entering through the front doors. The crowd contained an odd assortment of what looked like pretentious art snobs and people wearing ornate costumes and BDSM paraphernalia.

"It's like the Bates Motel and the Twilight Zone had a baby. And that baby was into kinky sex." She whispers to me as I hand the keys to the valet dressed in black leather pants and a gimp mask.

"Thank you..." I say to the burly server in Marilyn Monroe drag offering us a tray of champagne flutes as we enter. She's right. Were it not for the 'Declan Contemporary Art Gallery' banner hanging in the lobby, I'd be suspicious too. I spot my friend chatting with a man in a three piece suit and a woman wearing angel wings, pasties, and a g-string. Handing Ana a glass of champagne, I slide a hand to her back and usher her towards the laughing threesome.

"So he says, 'Rectum? Damn near killed him!" The suited man roars with laughter as the topless pixie gives a giggle and a playful slap to my buddy's arm.

"Oh hey! Christian!" He reaches out a hand to greet me and pulls me into a back-slapping man-hug.

"Hey man! This is... something else!"

"I'm so glad you could make it! Wait 'til you check it out. This is just the lobby, there's more." He spots Anastasia behind me and reaches out a hand. "Hi! I don't think we've met."

I give the introductions. "Jose, this is Anastasia Steele. Ana, my friend Jose Rodriguez."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ana." Jose takes Ana's hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss. Eyes locked on hers, his lips linger a little too long on the back of her hand for my liking. I clear my throat and wrap a territorial arm around Ana's shoulders. Jose shoots me a curious look. "Do you know Christian from work?"

"Ah, no. I interviewed him for an online magazine the other day."

"Oh, I see! Which magazine?"

"Rush dot com. It's still pretty new, but we've got a lot of readers and sponsors."

"Sorry, I haven't heard of it."

"We're pretty popular with university students. That's the target market, at least."

"Are you here to do a write-up about the exhibit?" He's turned on his thousand watt smile as he moves in closer towards her.

"She's my date for the evening." I say pointedly, feeling unusually territorial about her. Back. The. Fuck. Off, Jose Fucking Rodriguez.

Jose gives a nod, sensing the vibe I'm throwing him. I expect I'll hear more from him later but he gets my drift and backs off. "Well I'm so glad to you could come. If I give you a press package, would you be able to put something about it in your next issue online? We're open for a few weeks and have mostly advertised through the art-based media scene, but we could always use the exposure elsewhere."

"Absolutely! I'm happy to write something up about it."

"Awesome. I'll grab that for you. In the meantime, feel free to wander around. The whole installation is themed around the concept of normalizing taboo sex in mainstream society. This motel used to be a renowned place for local prostitutes to take their johns and was the setting for a number of porn shoots back in the day. It's slated for demolition in a few months, but Xander, the gallery owner, commissioned it to be a part of the exhibition itself while housing it at the same time."

"Where are you photos, Jose?"

"They're scattered throughout. There's a mix of different mediums in this exhibit. Sculpture, painting, photography, music. There's even performance art thrown in the mix too. Any photographs you see are mine. All the ceramic sculptures were done by Mirelle," He gestures towards the half-naked angel he had been conversing with who gives a playful wave and a curtsy. "There are about a dozen local artists that are featured in this exhibit."

"How did you... uh... how did you get involved?" Ana asks, her peripheral attention caught momentarily by a trio of pale blonde women striding by completely nude save for their neon pink merkins and sky high platform stilettos.

"I was commissioned by Xander himself after he saw my erotica exhibit at the Red Bird gallery." Jose explains, unfazed by the nudity around him. "I juxtaposed the on screen illusion with the behind the scenes reality. Showed that there's more involved than just sex and lust. A lot of it is smoke and mirrors. You see a whole range of emotions, sadness, friendship, anger, boredom that transcends the sexual scenes."

Jose continues on, blah-blah-blahing about 'futurism' this and 'social-realism' that. I become keenly aware of people whispering and pointing as they see me. I'm not surprised that I'm recognized in this type of environment. I get the feeling more than a number of them are familiar with modern pornography. The looks from the art snobs in the crowd surprise me, though. It's just a pretty face! This type of recognition I'm comfortable with, at least. It's the running and screaming with disgust or disrespect that I'm not as big a fan of. At least Ana knows what I do and hasn't been scared off by it. Yet.

"Enjoy yourselves!" Jose calls out as he walks off. "I'll catch up with you guys in a little bit. I've got to mingle, but then I'll grab that press package for you, Ana!"

"Thanks Jose!"

We wander down the corridor, weaving between patrons and strolling in and out of the hotel rooms where the pieces are exhibited. Wait-staff dressed like pop culture icons are circulating with trays of canapés and hors d'oeuvres. I'm sure there's a symbolic, artsy reason for this, but I'm too bombarded with the sounds and images of the rest of the installation to really ponder and reflect on it. The whole experience is an overwhelming barrage of sex and sexuality. It's not an outright orgy, but it's pretty much the artsy-fartsy equivalent of one. There are subtle, abstract pieces; oil paintings and sculptures that hint at their sexual nature. More a tease than a full-out art-fuck. And then there are very in-your-face, overtly erotic pieces; portraits, sculpture, even a trio performing a modern dance – all which straddle and dry-hump the line between erotica and pornography. In some unseen corner, a DJ mixes sex sounds with ambient techno electronic shit for background music. Even the food hints not so subtly at sex. Bananas. Asparagus. Cocktail weenies. Our surroundings are so over-saturated with the theme, I'm not sure if I should eat or fellate the offerings going past us on silver trays.

This is not your run-of-the-mill first (and only! – Jesus Murphy, shut up with that already!) date, that's for sure.

I look over at Ana, and can't tell if she's amused, terrified, disgusted, bored, or turned on. We've been discussing a few pieces here and there. Shared confused looks and stifled laughter over some of the more bizarre works. A few have been thought provoking enough to either have us discussing its merits or render us speechless.

"What do you think of this one, Ana?"

She's staring at a black and white photograph of a very large, very erect penis.

"I have a sudden craving for a hot dog at the moment." She responds drily.

I wonder if I should tell her that's my penis she's looking at right now.

"Um, Christian?" She peers intently at the photo.


She looks from the picture, to me, then back to the picture again.

"Is that – "

I guess I don't need to tell her as it seems she already knows! "Yes. I'm pretty sure it is. I must say, I'm impressed you recognized it."

"I told you I've watched a lot of porn. I did my research about you before your interview. Did you realize you'd be in the exhibit?"

I shrug. I vaguely remember signing a release for Jose a few years ago when he started his photography thing. It's not the first time people have seen my dick. It won't be the last.

"Can I have your autograph?" She asks with mock reverence.

I draw her close and whisper into her ear. "What do you want me to sign, and what can I sign it with?" She giggles into my shoulder and I pull her in even closer, embracing her and reveling in the feel of her body pressed to mine. My fingers seek out hers and entwine firmly. The ripples of sensation once again set me alight. I sense her breathing quicken. "Do you feel it too, Ana?" She looks into my eyes, her gaze dark and needy. She nods breathlessly. With my free hand I stroke at the delicate shell of her ear with my fingertips as I tuck a stray tendril of hair behind it. My urge to kiss her is irrepressible. Brushing my lips against her forehead does nothing to sate this desire, but serves instead sets the compulsion aflame. I find myself yearning for more contact than a chaste peck will grant me.

"Ana," I murmur, my lips hovering just over hers, silently begging permission.

"Christian," I feel her smile softly, her breath warm on my face.

"Ana! Christian!" Jose calls out as he strides towards us, breaking the moment. Fucker. "Here's the press release. Monica is the official contact person, but I put my email and number on there too in case you want an extra statement from one of the artists or something." Smooth, Goat. But she's mine. Flushed, Ana takes the paper quickly and folds it into her purse. Jose turns to me. "Christian, can I have a quick word with you?"

"You two take your time. I'm going to visit the ladies room. I'll be right back." Ana excuses herself.

Jose eyes Ana's ass as she walks away. "What do you want, Jose?" I snarl at his blatant eye-fuck.

Reluctantly, Jose turns back to me. "There are a few shots of you in this exhibit."

"I know." I point at the picture of my cock.

"Ah. Sorry. I meant to tell you before you got to them."

I shrug. "It's okay man. It's cool. Elena may want a cut if they sell, but it's okay with me."

"Thanks. Is it cool with Ana?"

I give a grin. "I haven't heard her complain."

"Nice!" Jose gives a knowing smile and graces me with a congratulatory fist bump. "She's pretty cute, man."

I nod. "She's beautiful."

Turning his attention back to me, he pauses in scrutiny. "You like her."

"Of course I like her, she's a nice girl."

"No, I mean you like her like her. You're practically glowing, dude."

"Fuck you, Goat. I don't glow. That's just the way I look when I'm about to get some."

Shaking his head, he dismisses my explanation with a dubious look on his smug face. "No. No, this is different."

"It's none of your goddamn business, Rodriguez."

"Fine, fine. Whatever. She seems sweet. I don't know what she's doing with a fucker like you, but..."

"Hey, I'm a nice guy."

"You're a slut, Christian."

"I prefer the term manwhore. And I'm a nice manwhore, thank you very much."

"Does she know about what you do?"


"And she's cool with it?"

"Yeah. As far as I know. She seems to be." Jose knows how rare this is. He's the closest thing I've got to a friend and confidante, not just in the business but in real life too. We've both seen relationships crash and burn around us. Jose has been involved in one or two himself.

"Well, after you're done with her... do you think you could hook me up with her number?"

"Fuck you, man. Absolutely not."

"Hey, calm your tits, bro. No need to be a little bitch about it. I'm just asking. I know you're not a relationship guy. What's your record, like three dates? When was that, two years ago? With Dana?"

"I'm not hooking you up with Ana."

"I usually get all your cast-offs."

"Not my fault you like sloppy seconds."

"Well, since she's just another piece of ass to you, give me her number."

"Fuck y- " My retort dies on my lips as I spot Ana across the room; some guy has her cornered by a giant phallic sculpture. "I'll catch you later, Jose." Without waiting for him to respond, I leave him standing there open-mouthed as I head straight for them, dodging art freaks and bondage weirdos along the way. My frame of vision turns red the nearer I get. He's touching her!

"Honestly, you're the best looking girl in this place." I hear him laying on the charm. Ana looks visibly repulsed as he strokes her arm. She jerks her arm away from him.

"Well, I'd better go look for the best looking guy, then. Oh! Here he is now!"

Before I can break his fingers off and say, "Hands off, mother fucker!" Ana spots me and practically throws herself into my arms. "Christian! There you are!"

"Hey, Baby. Miss me?" I throw a death look at the sleazeball in front of me and a proprietary arm around Ana's shoulders.

Turdburger is oblivious, but his face lights up with recognition. "Hey! You're Christian Grey! I'm a huge fan. My god, man. I have so many of your movies at home. You're so awesome! That one –" He points to a photograph on the wall beside us of me, naked, sweating, and fucking some girl in the middle of a scene. Ah! That would explain the looks I've been getting all night. "That's one of my all time favorites. 'Pussy Patrol 12', right? That's from the scene you did with Ava Amore where you did a standing 69 and then fucked her so hard she fell off the bed! I must have spanked it at least twenty times to that scene alone!"

"Great." My tone is clipped. I stare at him with fury and daggers but he is just not leaving us alone. At least his hands are no longer on Ana.

"I'm Jake, by the way. Jake Ashlocke. But I was thinking of going by 'Jake the Snake' when I make it big in the industry. I was just telling this pretty lady here that I'm an aspiring adult movie actor myself."

"Are you now?" You wish, Douchcanoe.

"Got any tips for me?"

Resisting the urge to punch him in the face and yell "Don't touch my woman!" I pause a moment, as an idea springs to mind. "Tell you what I'll do you one better." I grab the program out of his hands. "Got a pen?" I ask Ana. Puzzled, she fishes one out of her purse and hands it to me. I scrawl a number on it and hand it back to him. "Give this guy a call. He's looking for new male talent. He needs someone tomorrow, so if you tell him you'll be there, he'll put you in a scene for sure. Just let him know I sent you."

"Oh my fucking god!" Jake's eyes are practically popping out of his skull. "Are you fucking serious?! OH MY GOD! I love you, man!" He throws his arms around me (better me than Ana) and gives another joyous whoop. "CHRISTIAN GREY IS THE MAN!"

"Yeah, yeah. Get out of here."

"I can't believe it! Thank you so much, dude! You're awesome!" He walks off high-fiving an art patron on the way out of the room, and Ana stares at me, incredulous.

"What the hell was that? First you come storming over here like a caveman, and next you're giving him a golden ticket into the porn world."

I snicker. "He won't be as excited when he sees what kind of scene the guy is filming tomorrow. Oh, hey, speaking of that –" I pull out my phone and give my buddy a quick call. "Dale. It's Christian. Hey, you still looking for another bottom for the gay orgy tomorrow?... Yeah, I'm sending someone your way. I just gave him your number. He's pretty keen. He'll probably call you later tonight...No, he's new. I'm pretty sure he's gay for pay... Cool...No, thank you, man! Laters."

Ana is wide eyed and incredulous. "That was so evil. And kind of hot."

"That'll teach him to fuck with what's mine."

Ana's pupils dilate and I spot another delicious flush creeping up her neck. "Yours?" she whispers.

I grasp her hip and pull her in close once again. Our interruption has not quelled the nascent fire between us. Kissing the tender flesh behind her ear, I growl, "Mine."

I can't wait any longer. She feels so incredibly right in my arms. I want to mark her. Possess her. Protect her. Mister Business and Inner Beast are reeling. They've run the show for years and that level of intimacy has never been on the agenda or the radar before now. Mister Romantic is swooning. I grasp her jaw with one hand, intent to take the kiss I had been cheated out of earlier. The rest of the room fades away. I press Ana against the wall in the shadows behind the giant cock statue, pinning her with my hips. Running my nose against her jaw, I take in her scent. I brush my lips against the pulse in her throat and feel her shudder and gasp at the sensation. My touch is greedy, craving unfettered access to large expanses of her creamy skin. Ghosting my fingers over her face, my lips trail behind, feathering over her eyes, her cheeks, her chin, her collarbones, and the delicate divot between them. I cup her face in my hand and breathe her name. "Ana." Her whispered, "Christian. I want you." is all I need and my lips find hers. At this, our first intimate contact, my head spins as a thousand sparks of light explode in my head. Ana's lips part and her tongue brushes mine tentatively. I nip and suck at it in response, reveling in her delicious mouth. She opens herself to me, growing bolder. Our mouths, hot and wet, fuse and sear. Our tongues dance and wind, teasing, exploring. I'm reeling. My heart beats fast and feverish. Her pulse thunders with mine as I run my tongue and teeth along the hollow of her throat. Craving more, I claim her mouth again, that succulent lower lip - my prize. I taste her, tease her, laving at it like sweet candy. The moan in my throat is echoed by Ana as she melts into me. My hands hover over her breasts, a wordless question. She arches her back, pressing into me in response.

There's not enough kissing in porn. People want to get to the thrusting and banging and often miss out on one of the most sensual acts. I'm renowned for incorporating more kissing in my scenes. It adds to the eroticism. It deepens the connection. Knowing this, it has always been a very mechanical, calculated act on my part. Another move I've refined over the years. I can honestly say, until today I have never truly kissed or been kissed. This kiss with Ana – it is not merely my mouth meeting hers like with any of my other partners. It is a communion. A dance. It is the merging of two souls. I want to weep at the gravity of it. My body aches for more. Wordlessly, the kiss has become urgent, our bodies hungry for more. My hard-on blooms and presses against her stomach. A groan rumbles at the back of my throat as she presses back. The heat of the juncture between her thighs welcomes me. Come on home, Christian. The beast takes over. No thinking. No plotting. Just feeling. Giving and taking. I roll my hips into her mound eliciting a moan from her in response.

"Ana" I whisper into her mouth again, my hands eager to touch her everywhere. I cup the firm rounds of her breasts, thumbs stroking at the hardening peaks beneath the fabric. I move my head down and bite at the taut points, wanting desperately to taste her flesh.

"I'm sorry. I know I said I'd be a gentleman tonight. But there's nothing gentlemanly in what I want to do to you right now. Tell me to stop, Ana. Just say the word and I'll stop. You deserve a gentleman to treat you like a queen."

"I don't want a gentleman right now, Christian." Boldened by her words, I snake a hand down to the hem of her dress and revel in the feeling of bare leg against my hand. I move it slowly upward, stroking her thighs as I push the skirt of her dress up, granting me access to her warm core. I need to feel her. She is writhing against me, whimpering.

"Hush, Ana." Her silk covered mound is sodden. "You're so fucking wet." I murmur. Ana can only nod in response. I nip at her lower lip and suck it gently. "Is that because of me? Or because of the exhibit?"

"You." She breathes. "It's all for you."

I take my time, pulling aside the edge of her panties and tracing every moist line with my fingertips, burning the very feel of her into my memory. Landing strip. Nice. My fingers are bathed in her wetness as I stroke her swollen lips and throbbing clit in sweeping circles. I slide a finger into her warm channel, pressing my palm against her button, holding it there and reveling in her lush heat, and wishing it were my cock not my finger submerged in the hot, wet velvet of her pussy. She gasps at the intrusion, grinding back at me for more. I withdraw my hand and am met with a husky groan in frustration.

"Oh, I'm not done with you yet." I growl. I bring my hand to my mouth, licking her juices from my fingers. "You're so sweet." I murmur. "Absolutely delicious." I caress her lip with my thumb, offering her a taste. "See?" Her exquisite tongue laps at it, causing my cock to throb its approval. She envelops the digit with her warm mouth, causing me to groan at the rapturous suction. The urge to be inside her is so intense, but we're not in the best place for that. A few minutes more, and I likely won't care. I lick her ear in response and whisper, "You're killing me," as I suck on her earlobe. "I want to lick you so badly. I want to feast on your sweet pussy and then bury myself to the hilt. I could fuck you raw, Ana. I could take you right here, up against the wall. I don't care. I need to be inside you." Ana's eyes widen at my words, and dart around the room nervously. "Don't worry, sweets. I've got other plans."

Her moan is low, needy and desperate with desire. I cut her off with another fierce kiss. Our tongues thrash as I reach around and grip her luscious bottom. I roll my hips into her, imagining the layers of clothes were no longer between us and that I truly was bottomed out in her pulsing center. I dry-fuck her against the wall, her legs wrapped around my waist. Her panting is reedy and strained, and I know the friction on her nub is sending her to her breaking point.

My hand snakes down and into her panties once again. As I pinch at her nipple with the other hand, my finger finds her wet chamber once more, eliciting a ragged gasp and a groan from Ana. I start to move it in and out, my thumb pressing circles onto her clit urging her towards her climax. She is writhing against me, hips bucking, skin aflame. I hold her gaze, her eyes a fierce blue, brows knit in exquisite torment. She's close. I can practically taste it. My hand moves from her breast to grip the back of her head. "Look at me, Anastasia. Come for me, sweet girl. Come for me now."

"Oh my god. Oh sweet fucking mother of cock!" I muffle her with my mouth, swallowing her ecstatic cries as she trembles in orgasmic release. I nearly lose it at the sight and feel of her climaxing in my arms. Her pussy is greedily pulling at my finger. My hand is awash in her juices, and her clit pulsates rhythmically. After what feels like an eternity, her wave crests, and she finally slumps against me, laughing against my mouth.

"Holy fucking shit." She whispers. I sweep the hair out of her face, place a tender kiss on her mouth, and gaze at her as her crystalline eyes shift back into focus.

"Hey." She murmurs with a slow, languid smile.

"Hey." I murmur back with an amused grin.

"Hey!" a voice from behind us calls.

Oh snap. Busted. I wonder if that's an art snob or a bondage freak?

We turn as I subtly remove my hand from her panties and help straighten Ana's skirt back down over her thighs. "Oh jesus fucking son of a fuck." Ana squeaks, mortified. I'm still hard, but the wet spot on my boxers from all the precum is cooling rapidly and becoming uncomfortable. A stern looking woman in a black leather suit glowers at us.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Art snob. A bondage freak would be way cooler about public sex than that. There are gasps of outrage and a flurry of excitement from people behind her. When the hell did all these people enter the room? Christ! For an exhibit about sex, they're seriously pissed off. You'd think they'd be excited they elicited this kind of response from their patrons.

"This is an art exhibit, not some public porn show!"

Ana pushes a wayward strand of hair from her face. "Excuse me?" She points angrily at the sculpture beside us. "You have a six foot tall penis in the room! And women walking around in nothing but merkins. Merkins, for fucks sake!" she snaps "Don't fucking make this about us, you uptight bitch! The whole goddamn exhibit is a fucking art wank." She glares at the hoards surrounding us. "Nothing to see here, people! Mind your fucking business."

Ooh. Sweary. Me likey.

Jose rushes towards us. "I think you'd better just go," he says apologetically. "Sorry, man." He shrugs at me.

"No, I'm sorry. Great show, Jose. I'll catch you later." Ana and I push ourselves through the throng that has gathered. The Jake guy is clapping. "Woo! That was, without a doubt, the best part of the whole exhibit!" I hear another muttered expletive from Ana as we make our way out.

While waiting for the gimp-maksed valet to retrieve my ride, I slide an arm around Ana's shoulders.

"Sorry, Ana."

"I should be the one that's sorry. You didn't even get to come. Thank you, by the way."

"You're not upset I got us kicked out of an art gallery exhibit?"

Ana grabs my ass and pulls me in for a passionate kiss. "Nope. That was absolutely worth the public humiliation."

"Want to go back to my place?"

"God yes."

We hurry into the car and are underway.

Okay, as far as dates go, this definitely ranks at the top. And it seems the night isn't over yet.

A/N 2 – Your reviews and feedback are always appreciated.

I wasn't a fan of Ana's inner goddess and subconscious in the original books, but thought I'd throw in something similar for Christian's point of view in this story. Did it work? Should I scrap them for future chapters or do you want to hear from them again?

26.2 update coming soon. Thanks for reading :)