Sex stories 50 shades of grey. Chapter 39.



Sex stories 50 shades of grey

Sex stories 50 shades of grey

I write fan fiction based on E L James's gripping books and more. Fifty Shades Meander is a multi chapter story that continues in the same vein as the originals and, along with some one shot stories, are found in the sidebar. I also host a book club on Sundays.

This blog contains mature content — strictly over 18's! Chapter 39 My body was on fire, my blood drumming through my veins. Christian bends forward, cupping my jaw with both hands he pulls me up from the chair and into a sweltering kiss. He poured everything he had into me as if I was an empty vessel he needed to fill. I tasted love, desire, but I also tasted caution.

It reminded me of the question I went to sleep with last night, the same one I woke up with this morning. How could I prove I was here to stay? One hand slipped from my jaw to my neck and down my chest, spreading his warm semen along the way. I got the distinct impression that he was marking me, claiming me to assuage his doubts. I obviously needed the light of his vulnerability to see the key that was right before me; one that I already put into effect without even realising what a valuable tool it would end up being.

It was something I knew now, would verify the irrevocable ties I had to him. Christian broke our kiss, directing his full focus onto me. Slowly he started wiping the fluid off my neck and chest, concentrating on the task. I was choked with the bleakness of his words; I hated that I could still hear the underlying uncertainty. His hands resting on my shoulders as he steered. Mercurial to a fault his eyes were twinkling with a hint of mischief, his mouth curved with all the lascivious intent in the world.

Any traces of solemnity banished to a compartment in his mind that he rarely put on show. I had to employ the help of my teeth to curb the Cheshire-cat smile playing tug of war with my mock-serious face. Those fingers could stroke with love just as much as they could tickle with merciless incursion — all at the drop of a hat.

Much as I wanted to continue teasing him my body was demanding the attention I knew was due me — as much from my earlier stellar performance as from what I was about to share.

Besides, I had nowhere to go, trapped as I was by his large frame pinning me to the wall, his leg firmly lodged between mine. Christian played along, flexing his quad into my clench so I could grind my sex against him.

With a knowing smirk, he found my gaze, fluttering as I gasped at the welcome pressure. His long fingers stroked my sides lightly, their tips a mere whisper on my skin — a maddening glide that was somewhere between sensual and ticklish. I moaned, forgetting myself for a minute. I shivered as Christian added another layer to his onslaught of sensation. His ruggedly, stubbly chin made it into the crook of my neck. Judging by his groan he took immense delight in dragging the stiff, shadowy growth over my hypersensitive skin.

Goose bumps raced on the back of a shiver, all over my fevered limbs. It did nothing to dampen my need, in fact, desire spiked along with the shot of adrenaline his promise drew. I licked my blistering lips, dry as they were from his kisses and my rapid breaths. I hissed as he found a particularly erogenous spot below my ear, my body bucking into him. In the silence I could hear my heart thump-thumping against his pressed-up chest and I was sure he could feel it bounding as it hammered against its bony cage.

When he spoke he did so with his head still buried in my neck, hiding his expression from me. I wanted to tell you in person. Are… are you mad? What made you decide to do that? I cupped his cheek, mirroring his tenderness as his slate eyes snared mine but I stared right back.

No reservations, no doubt and more than anything I want to share parenthood with you. From the very start. I watched in fascination and a touch of dread as the emotions flitted across his handsome face until he finally settled onto one, matching the colour of his eyes with the intensity of the hopeful light that I could see dawning. His mouth split in two, the arc of his full HD beam as wide as it was joyous.

It was — hands down — the best angel-chorus moment. Christian speechless was priceless. I sucked in a relieved breath before offering him an answering smile but before I could his mouth sealed over mine, clashing. This kiss was something else altogether. He unleashed himself on me; that tightly coiled restraint whipping free, going for a rampage on my lips.

It felt as though he wanted to climb inside of me, take me under siege, make us more one that we already were in our married union. Such a Christian question! I thought, almost cringing at the shocking intimacy but my mind was otherwise occupied, my inhibitions tucked into an inaccessible corner.

Seven days to what? I thought vaguely, too possessed by him to care. With impatient hands he pawed me, brutally eager to feel every curve and plane. He was grateful and I took it all, nothing wavering as I held on, my hands fisting his hair, growing more and more desperate for my banked release.

One calloused hand, rough as it rasped over my skin, speared between our bodies so that he could grip the top of my panties. A sure tug had them caught between the lips of my sex allowing the scrap of lace to give me the friction I craved. I moaned — loudly, brazenly, the world falling away so I could concentrate on him and his mind-blowing skills. I was grateful for the support of the wall behind me when Christian broke away, half lidded and panting. I want you to come in my mouth.

His filthy words hit my core with a blow, tightening my inner muscles in giddy anticipation. Already I could feel my orgasm brewing, building, every stroke and kiss charging it. He dropped to his knees, wrenching off my panties with zero regard for the delicate lace. He fused his gaze to my mound, his level stare burning as much as his touch would. My head lolled restlessly against the wall as I mewled my impatience. Again my fingers sought the grip of his hair, wanting to force his mouth onto me.

I could feel his freighting breaths tease me, hot and damp as he folded all but two of my fingers away then placed them right beside my glistening lips.

My gasp was more like a pathetic whimper of need. Not only were they directly in front of his ardent mouth but in my full view as well. I could see the sheen of my arousal, the juicy centre poking through the cleft in spite of the fullness of the outer rounds. Oh my fucking my! We gaped at the view for a long minute; shallow breaths gusting before he tore his hooded stare away. Turning those molten pools onto me he watched through his lashes as he dragged the flat of his tongue along the length of my slit, so agonisingly slow it felt as though my skin was burning, melting.

The sensation was astonishingly different, as if moving the nerves altered the way they responded. It took that second to realise how ensnared I was, in spite of not being bound I was no more mobile.

Again he licked, starting with a tiny swirl of his tongue at the heart of my opening before sliding it up and up, the brief contact with my clitoris jolting as a sensual shudder rode me hard. His left arm snaked up my body where his fingers found the taut pike of my nipple, tweaking and rolling.

I was close, so close as the sensations crashed through my body, everything converging in that demanding bundle of nerves that cooled the moment the blanket of his tongue swept away from it. It was the maddening lapping, the contrast between the heat of his mouth and the cooling contact with the air, the view I had from my vantage point as he watched me watching him lick me, the tugging at my nipple and finally the leisurely finger he pushed inside, rimming just inside my entrance.

I wanted more of everything but at the same time fearing the force of what I could feel breaking over me. He groaned his delight before rewarding me with another long lap, this time gently suckling my clitoris into the wet fever of his mouth. He held it there, sweeping his tongue along the underside in rapid flutters while his finger, only first knuckle-deep, stretched and slowly circled the edge of my opening.

I wanted to remain like this — forever — melting from the inside out with the sheer pleasure of it but I also wanted that pleasure to come to a head, to tear me out and away from myself with the blinding explosion I could feel was fast coming my way. This time in earnest as he doubled his tempo, the flick of his licks growing shorter, hot and focussed on where I needed it. There was nothing I could do to hold back the brusque stiffening of my legs and core when he switched the lazy stroke of his finger to a hard and fast pump.

The orgasm overtook me, like a full body spasm it coiled tighter still, curling in on itself then snapped with a stunning burst as I surrendered, letting it shudder through me with the force of a V jolt. The earth shook then, quaking just for me as he drew every last contraction with a tongue intent on the cream of my release. Holy fucking hell, my head was indeed spinning but I had no time to dwell on it. With what little strength I had I lifted a leg so he could secure it around him.

Swiftly, gracefully he turned and moved us to the new bench. He set me down on my bottom and again sank to his knees on the floor.

Instantly his earlier comment about the height of the piece explained itself. Our bodies were perfectly aligned for penetration, him kneeling on the floor and me on top of the seat. He gave me a wicked grin, self-assured brow cocked as he took himself in hand, stroking. I sat back, legs apart and supporting myself on my hands behind my back as I took in his virile maleness, not for the first time marvelling at the fact that he was mine.

He ran his plush head along the length of me, gathering all the glossy wetness and reigniting tissues that I thought would be sated after that shattering spend.

Around his mouth I saw the sheen of my lust, glistening in the low light.

Video by theme:

red room scene of Christian and ana - fifty shades of gray (18+)



Sex stories 50 shades of grey

I write fan fiction based on E L James's gripping books and more. Fifty Shades Meander is a multi chapter story that continues in the same vein as the originals and, along with some one shot stories, are found in the sidebar.

I also host a book club on Sundays. This blog contains mature content — strictly over 18's! Chapter 39 My body was on fire, my blood drumming through my veins. Christian bends forward, cupping my jaw with both hands he pulls me up from the chair and into a sweltering kiss. He poured everything he had into me as if I was an empty vessel he needed to fill.

I tasted love, desire, but I also tasted caution. It reminded me of the question I went to sleep with last night, the same one I woke up with this morning. How could I prove I was here to stay?

One hand slipped from my jaw to my neck and down my chest, spreading his warm semen along the way. I got the distinct impression that he was marking me, claiming me to assuage his doubts. I obviously needed the light of his vulnerability to see the key that was right before me; one that I already put into effect without even realising what a valuable tool it would end up being. It was something I knew now, would verify the irrevocable ties I had to him.

Christian broke our kiss, directing his full focus onto me. Slowly he started wiping the fluid off my neck and chest, concentrating on the task. I was choked with the bleakness of his words; I hated that I could still hear the underlying uncertainty.

His hands resting on my shoulders as he steered. Mercurial to a fault his eyes were twinkling with a hint of mischief, his mouth curved with all the lascivious intent in the world. Any traces of solemnity banished to a compartment in his mind that he rarely put on show. I had to employ the help of my teeth to curb the Cheshire-cat smile playing tug of war with my mock-serious face. Those fingers could stroke with love just as much as they could tickle with merciless incursion — all at the drop of a hat.

Much as I wanted to continue teasing him my body was demanding the attention I knew was due me — as much from my earlier stellar performance as from what I was about to share.

Besides, I had nowhere to go, trapped as I was by his large frame pinning me to the wall, his leg firmly lodged between mine. Christian played along, flexing his quad into my clench so I could grind my sex against him. With a knowing smirk, he found my gaze, fluttering as I gasped at the welcome pressure. His long fingers stroked my sides lightly, their tips a mere whisper on my skin — a maddening glide that was somewhere between sensual and ticklish.

I moaned, forgetting myself for a minute. I shivered as Christian added another layer to his onslaught of sensation. His ruggedly, stubbly chin made it into the crook of my neck. Judging by his groan he took immense delight in dragging the stiff, shadowy growth over my hypersensitive skin.

Goose bumps raced on the back of a shiver, all over my fevered limbs. It did nothing to dampen my need, in fact, desire spiked along with the shot of adrenaline his promise drew. I licked my blistering lips, dry as they were from his kisses and my rapid breaths. I hissed as he found a particularly erogenous spot below my ear, my body bucking into him. In the silence I could hear my heart thump-thumping against his pressed-up chest and I was sure he could feel it bounding as it hammered against its bony cage.

When he spoke he did so with his head still buried in my neck, hiding his expression from me. I wanted to tell you in person. Are… are you mad? What made you decide to do that? I cupped his cheek, mirroring his tenderness as his slate eyes snared mine but I stared right back. No reservations, no doubt and more than anything I want to share parenthood with you.

From the very start. I watched in fascination and a touch of dread as the emotions flitted across his handsome face until he finally settled onto one, matching the colour of his eyes with the intensity of the hopeful light that I could see dawning.

His mouth split in two, the arc of his full HD beam as wide as it was joyous. It was — hands down — the best angel-chorus moment. Christian speechless was priceless. I sucked in a relieved breath before offering him an answering smile but before I could his mouth sealed over mine, clashing.

This kiss was something else altogether. He unleashed himself on me; that tightly coiled restraint whipping free, going for a rampage on my lips. It felt as though he wanted to climb inside of me, take me under siege, make us more one that we already were in our married union. Such a Christian question! I thought, almost cringing at the shocking intimacy but my mind was otherwise occupied, my inhibitions tucked into an inaccessible corner. Seven days to what? I thought vaguely, too possessed by him to care.

With impatient hands he pawed me, brutally eager to feel every curve and plane. He was grateful and I took it all, nothing wavering as I held on, my hands fisting his hair, growing more and more desperate for my banked release.

One calloused hand, rough as it rasped over my skin, speared between our bodies so that he could grip the top of my panties. A sure tug had them caught between the lips of my sex allowing the scrap of lace to give me the friction I craved. I moaned — loudly, brazenly, the world falling away so I could concentrate on him and his mind-blowing skills. I was grateful for the support of the wall behind me when Christian broke away, half lidded and panting. I want you to come in my mouth. His filthy words hit my core with a blow, tightening my inner muscles in giddy anticipation.

Already I could feel my orgasm brewing, building, every stroke and kiss charging it. He dropped to his knees, wrenching off my panties with zero regard for the delicate lace. He fused his gaze to my mound, his level stare burning as much as his touch would. My head lolled restlessly against the wall as I mewled my impatience. Again my fingers sought the grip of his hair, wanting to force his mouth onto me.

I could feel his freighting breaths tease me, hot and damp as he folded all but two of my fingers away then placed them right beside my glistening lips. My gasp was more like a pathetic whimper of need. Not only were they directly in front of his ardent mouth but in my full view as well. I could see the sheen of my arousal, the juicy centre poking through the cleft in spite of the fullness of the outer rounds. Oh my fucking my! We gaped at the view for a long minute; shallow breaths gusting before he tore his hooded stare away.

Turning those molten pools onto me he watched through his lashes as he dragged the flat of his tongue along the length of my slit, so agonisingly slow it felt as though my skin was burning, melting.

The sensation was astonishingly different, as if moving the nerves altered the way they responded. It took that second to realise how ensnared I was, in spite of not being bound I was no more mobile.

Again he licked, starting with a tiny swirl of his tongue at the heart of my opening before sliding it up and up, the brief contact with my clitoris jolting as a sensual shudder rode me hard. His left arm snaked up my body where his fingers found the taut pike of my nipple, tweaking and rolling.

I was close, so close as the sensations crashed through my body, everything converging in that demanding bundle of nerves that cooled the moment the blanket of his tongue swept away from it.

It was the maddening lapping, the contrast between the heat of his mouth and the cooling contact with the air, the view I had from my vantage point as he watched me watching him lick me, the tugging at my nipple and finally the leisurely finger he pushed inside, rimming just inside my entrance.

I wanted more of everything but at the same time fearing the force of what I could feel breaking over me. He groaned his delight before rewarding me with another long lap, this time gently suckling my clitoris into the wet fever of his mouth.

He held it there, sweeping his tongue along the underside in rapid flutters while his finger, only first knuckle-deep, stretched and slowly circled the edge of my opening. I wanted to remain like this — forever — melting from the inside out with the sheer pleasure of it but I also wanted that pleasure to come to a head, to tear me out and away from myself with the blinding explosion I could feel was fast coming my way. This time in earnest as he doubled his tempo, the flick of his licks growing shorter, hot and focussed on where I needed it.

There was nothing I could do to hold back the brusque stiffening of my legs and core when he switched the lazy stroke of his finger to a hard and fast pump. The orgasm overtook me, like a full body spasm it coiled tighter still, curling in on itself then snapped with a stunning burst as I surrendered, letting it shudder through me with the force of a V jolt.

The earth shook then, quaking just for me as he drew every last contraction with a tongue intent on the cream of my release.

Holy fucking hell, my head was indeed spinning but I had no time to dwell on it. With what little strength I had I lifted a leg so he could secure it around him. Swiftly, gracefully he turned and moved us to the new bench. He set me down on my bottom and again sank to his knees on the floor. Instantly his earlier comment about the height of the piece explained itself.

Our bodies were perfectly aligned for penetration, him kneeling on the floor and me on top of the seat. He gave me a wicked grin, self-assured brow cocked as he took himself in hand, stroking. I sat back, legs apart and supporting myself on my hands behind my back as I took in his virile maleness, not for the first time marvelling at the fact that he was mine. He ran his plush head along the length of me, gathering all the glossy wetness and reigniting tissues that I thought would be sated after that shattering spend.

Around his mouth I saw the sheen of my lust, glistening in the low light.

Sex stories 50 shades of grey

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5 Comments

  1. We gaped at the view for a long minute; shallow breaths gusting before he tore his hooded stare away. When he flexes his tongue I pinch my nipples — hard and gasp.

  2. Are… are you mad? In this position I was stretched out perfectly, as though the seat was made with my proportions in mind. His hands mirror his lips, plundering every inch of my skin he can reach, rubbing, moulding, scorching.

  3. You wanted him angry! His eyes crinkle at the corners, indicating a smile at my eagerness.

  4. I move right up to his back and run my hands along his sculpted form, easily gliding around the slick curves. I knew his stormy gaze was locked to the valley between my cheeks and all the delights it held there. I watched in fascination and a touch of dread as the emotions flitted across his handsome face until he finally settled onto one, matching the colour of his eyes with the intensity of the hopeful light that I could see dawning.

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