Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           “Aaah!”

           Iwanttomove,towrithe…toescape,ortowelcome,eachblow…Idon’tknow—it’ssooverwhelming…Ican’tpullmyarms…mylegsarestuck…Iamheldveryfirmlyinplace…andagainhestrikesacrossmybreasts—Icryout.Andit’sasweetagony—bearable,just…pleasant—no,notimmediately,butasmyskinsingswitheachblowinperfectcounterpointtothemusicinmyhead,Iamdraggedintoadark,darkpartofmypsychethatsurrenderstothismosteroticsensation.Yes—Igetthis.Hehitsmeacrossmyhip,thenmovesinswiftblowsovermypubichair,onmythighs,anddownmyinnerthighs…andbackupmybody…acrossmyhips.Hekeepsgoingasthemusicreachesaclimax,andthensuddenlythemusicstops.Andsodoeshe.Thenthesingingstartsagain…buildingandbuilding,andherainsdownblowsonme…andIgroanandwrithe.Onceagain,itceasesandallisquiet…exceptmywildbreathing…andwildyearning.For…oh…what’shappening?What’shegoingtodonow?Theexcitementisalmostunbearable.I’veenteredaverydark,carnalplace.

           ThebedmovesandshiftsasIfeelhimclamberoverme,andthesongstartsagain.He’sgotitonrepeat…thistimeit’shisnoseandlipsthattaketheplaceofthefur…runningdownmyneckandthroat,kissing,sucking…trailingdowntomybreasts…Ah!Tauntingeachofmynipplesinturn…histongueswirlingaroundonewhilehisfingersrelentlesslyteasetheother…Igroan,loudlyIthink,thoughIcan’thear.Iamlost.