Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           Duringtheshortwalkfrombedroomtofrontdoor,mythoughtsandfeelingsebbandflow,transforming.I’mnolongerangrywithhim,Ifeelsuddenlyunbearablyshy.Idon’twanthimtogo.Forthefirsttime,I’mwishinghewasnormal—wantinganormalrelationshipthatdoesn’tneedaten-pageagreement,aflogger,andcarabinersinhisplayroomceiling.

           Iopenthedoorforhimandstaredownatmyhands.ThisisthefirsttimeIhaveeverhadsexinmyhome,andassexgoes,Ithinkitwasprettydamnfine.ButnowIfeellikeareceptacle—anemptyvesseltobefilledathiswhim.Mysubconsciousshakesherhead.YouwantedtoruntotheHeathmanforsex—youhaditexpressdelivered.Shecrossesherarmsandtapsherfootwithawhat-are-you-complaining-aboutlookonherface.Christianstopsinthedoorwayandclaspsmychin,forcingmyeyestomeethis.Hisbrowcreases.

           “Youokay?”heaskstenderlyashisthumblightlycaressesmybottomlip.

           “Yes,”Ireply,thoughinallhonestyI’mjustnotsure.Ifeelaparadigmshift.IknowthatifIdothisthingwithhim,Iwillgethurt.He’snotcapable,interested,orwillingtooffermeanymore…andIwantmore.Muchmore.ThesurgeofjealousyIfeltonlymomentsagotellsmethatIhavedeeperfeelingsforhimthanIhaveadmittedtomyself.

           “Wednesday,”heconfirms,andheleansforwardandkissesmesoftly.Somethingchangeswhilehe’skissingme;hislipsgrowmoreurgentagainstmine,hishandmovesupfrommychinandhe’sholdingthesideofmyhead,hisotherhandontheotherside.Hisbreathingaccelerates.