Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           Hepullshisshirtoverhisheadandquicklytakesoffhisjeans.

           “You’dratherIdothis?”Hisgraygazescorchesmineinthemirror.

           “Ohyes…please,”Ibreathe.

           Hewrapshisarmsaroundmeagainandtakesmyhandsoncemore,continuingthesensualcaressacrossmysex,overmyclitoris.Hischesthairscrapesagainstme,hiserectionpressesagainstme.Oh,soon…please.Hebitesthenapeofmyneck,andIclosemyeyes,enjoyingthemyriadsensations:myneck,mygroin…thefeelofhimbehindme.Hestopsabruptlyandspinsmearound,circlingmywristswithonehand,imprisoningmyhandsbehindme,andpullingatmyponytailwiththeother.Iamflushagainsthim,andhekissesmewildly,ravagingmymouthwithhis.Holdingmeinplace.

           Hisbreathingisragged,matchingmine.

           “Whendidyoustartyourperiod,Anastasia?”heasksoutoftheblue,gazingdownatme.

           “Er…yesterday,”Imumbleinmyhighlyarousedstate.

           “Good.”Hereleasesmeandturnsmearound.

           “Holdontothesink,”heorders,anddragsmyhipsbackagain,likehedidintheplayroom,soI’mbendingdown.

           Hereachesbetweenmylegsandpullsonthebluestring—what?!—andgentlytakesmytamponoutandtossesitintothenearbytoilet.Holyfuck.Sweetmotherofall…Jeez.Andthenhe’sinsideme…ah!Skinagainstskin…movingslowlyatfirst…easily,testingme,pushingme…ohmy.Igripontothesink,panting,forcingmyselfbackonhim,feelinghiminsideme.Oh,thesweetagony…hishandsclaspmyhips.