Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey

massaging me internally. It’s such a weird feeling and not entirely unpleasant. In fact, my breathing accelerates as I stretch up for a glass from the kitchen cabinet, and I gasp. Oh my … I may have to keep these. They make me needy, needy for sex.
    He’s watching me carefully when I return.
    “Thank you,” he says as he takes the glass from me.
    Slowly, he takes a sip then places the glass on his bedside table. There’s a foil packet, ready and waiting, like me. And I know he’s doing this to build the anticipation. My heart has picked up a beat. He turns his bright gray gaze to mine.
    “Come. Stand beside me. Like last time.”
    I sidle up to him, my blood thrumming through my body, and this time… I’m excited. Aroused.
    “Ask me,” he says softly.
    I frown. Ask him what?
    “Ask me,” his voice is slightly harder.
    What? How was your water? What does he want?
    “Ask me, Anastasia. I won’t say it again.” And there’s such a threat implicit in his words, and it dawns on me. He wants me to ask him to spank me.
    Holy shit. He’s looking at me expectantly, his eyes growing colder. Shit.
    “Spank me, please… Sir,” I whisper.
    He closes his eyes momentarily, savoring my words. Reaching up, he grasps my left hand and he tugs me over his knees. I fall instantly, and he steadies me as I land in his lap. My heart is in my mouth as his hand gently strokes my behind. I’m angled across his lap again so that my torso rests on the bed beside him. This time he doesn’t throw his leg over mine, but smoothes my hair out of my face and tucks it behind my ear. Once he’s done, he clasps my hair at the nape to hold me in place. He tugs gently and my head shifts back.
    “I want to see your face while I spank you, Anastasia,” he murmurs, all the while softly rubbing my backside.
    His hand moves down between the cheeks of my behind, and he pushes against my sex, and the full feeling is… I moan. Oh, the sensation is exquisite.
    “This is for pleasure, Anastasia, mine and yours,” he whispers softly.
    He lifts his hand and brings it down in a resounding slap against the junction of my thighs, my behind, and my sex. The balls are forced forward inside me, and I’m lost in a quagmire of sensation. The stinging across my behind, the fullness of the balls inside me, and the fact that he’s holding me down. I screw my face up as my faculties attempt to absorb all these foreign feelings. I note somewhere in my brain that he’s not smacked me as hard as last time. He caresses my backside again, trailing his palm across my skin and over my underwear.
    Why’s he not removed my panties? Then his palm disappears, and he brings it down again. I groan as the sensation spreads. He starts a pattern: left to right and then down. The down ones are the best. Everything moving forward, inside me… and in between each smack he caresses me, kneads me – so I am massaged inside and out. It’s such a stimulating, erotic feeling, and for some reason, because this is on my terms, I don’t mind the pain. It’s not painful as such – well it is, but not unbearable. It’s somehow manageable, and yes pleasurable… even. I groan. Yes, I can do this.
    He pauses as he slowly peels my panties down my legs. I writhe on his legs, not because I want to escape the blows, but I want more… release, something. His touch against my sensitized skin is all sensuous tingle. It’s overwhelming, and he starts again. A few soft slaps then building up, left to right and down. Oh, the downs, I groan.
    “Good girl, Anastasia,” he groans, and his breathing is ragged.
    He spanks me twice more, and then he pulls at the small threads attached to the balls and jerks them out of me suddenly. I almost climax – the feeling is out of this world. Moving swiftly, he gently turns me over. I hear rather see the rip of the foil packet, and then he’s lying beside me. He seizes my hands, hoists them over my head, and eases himself onto me, into me, sliding slowly, filling me where the silver globes have been. I groan loudly.
    “Oh, baby,” he whispers as he moves back, forward, a slow sensual tempo, savoring me, feeling me.
    It is the most gentle he has ever been, and it takes no time at all for me to fall over the edge, spiraling into a delicious, violent, exhausting orgasm. As I clench around him, it ignites his release, and he slides into me, stilling, gasping out my name in desperate wonder.
    “Ana!”
    He’s silent and panting on top of