Humour: Fifty Shades of Shite – Vol III
Git Grey washed his hands in the en-suite bathroom and fixed his carefully mussed hair. Better crack a window in here, he thought, just in case Ana wants to use it later.
He thought of his love tied up and waiting for him in the next room. That had been some bombshell she’d dropped earlier. A virgin. Who would have thought it, eh?
Almost 22 years old, a college graduate and drop dead gorgeous. But never been kissed. Almost unbelievable really, he mused. Completely unbelievable if he was honest. If it was in a book or something that a gorgeous, early 20s goddess had never even held hands with someone, nobody would buy that book. But there she was, lying in his playroom.
He almost couldn’t believe his luck – how easy would it be to seduce a virgin? Sure they knew nothing! He wouldn’t even have to make an effort, none of that foreplay malarkey that most other burds were into.
He’d even be able to do the Mickey Mambo; tell her that women usually loved it. He really didn’t know why women didn’t enjoy that. Who wouldn’t want to watch a naked man lepping about waving his lad around? Women, he thought. Would you be up to them?
Opening the door to his playroom, he strode over to the enormous bed in the centre of the room, stumbling slightly as his trousers fell down around his ankles. Dammit, he still hadn’t got that belt; it was gone beyond a joke at this stage.
No matter, he thought, whipping the trousers off, he didn’t need these in here anyway. Just his jocks would do, he’d only changed them yesterday.
Ana was waiting for him, trembling, on the bed, eyes wide with anticipation as she took in his half-naked form coming towards him.
‘Are you alright, Git?’ she asked, flushing as she caught sight of his muscular thighs.
‘I’m grand yeah, just the oul garlic fries, you know, came out of me like water, but I’m grand,’ he replied, flexing.
He lay down on the bed beside her, drinking in her slight form; the way her breasts strained against the jersey she was wearing. She shifted on the bed beside him, a slight crackle of electricity – either from the heat between them or the 100 per cent polyester material – renting the air.
Dipping his head, Git went in for the kill, giving it socks, the ladies loved a load of tongue. Lazily, he tickled her teeth and grabbed a handful of boob.
Pulling Ana’s jersey off over her head, Git lowered his head to her breast, sucking on her right nipple like it was a Tangle Twister. His other hand tweaked her left one, ’round and ’round like he was tuning in the radio.
A few minutes later, he chanced a look at the clock on the wall. Five minutes. Surely she should have come by now? He’d read an entirely believable book that said that virgins come within seconds once you gave them a bit of nipple action. But Ana seemed to be holding back.
He knew what she wanted.
Sliding down the bed he nuzzled her, there, lapping at her, sucking and kissing like there was no tomorrow.
‘Git,’ Ana moaned, writhing beneath him.
This was more like it, listen to her, she was loving it. The durty bitch.
‘Git,’ she moaned again, grabbing his head as she panted. ‘That’s. Actually. My. Hipbone.’
Dammit. The red bulbs in his playroom made it difficult to see what he was doing. He was about eight inches left of where he should be.
He’d had enough, that was all she was getting out of him, time for him to get some.
Kneeling between her legs he produced a condom from behind her ear – that was the Paul Daniels in him, no matter where he went he could produce a condom – and rolled it on, noting Ana’s gasp as she saw his manhood for the first time.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he grinned. ‘You’re wondering how it’s going to fit, aren’t you?’
‘Er, no, I was just wondering what that lump is,’ she said, shrinking back against the duvet.
‘Nuttin’, nuttin’, it’s just a cyst from an old injury’, Git said quickly, turning the light down even further. ‘I saw a thing on YouTube about making it bigger using a Hoover … anyway, it doesn’t matter, it’s grand.’
Gearing up for the main event Git thrust his way inside Ana, once, twice, three times.
‘Oh God,’ he moaned, lost in his own world, barely noticing Ana beneath him, yawning widely.
‘OH GOD,’ he moaned again. ‘I’m getting close, yes, almost there.’
‘OH GOD,’ he yelled triumphantly. ‘Oh … oh … oh… STEPHEN CLUXTON!!!!’
Spent, he dropped down on top of Ana, breathing heavily, limbs shaking. Moy Jaysis, he thought, that was A1. He looked at his watch, impressed. Four minutes! That was a record. She was surely impressed with that?
‘Ana, are you all right?’ he asked, shaking her slightly, finding her limp and unresponsive beneath him, almost as if she was asleep.
Probably passed out from the seeing to he’d just given her, he thought modestly, stretching hugely and then leaping to his feet. He’d leave her to recover on the bed and come back for her later – she’d probably want a second round.
Right now he needed a slash, a beer and Call of Duty in that order. He smiled – it was hard work being a billionaire playboy, but somebody had to do it.
