slaves, tell me about 50 Shades of Grey

this sounds like that Python dirty phrasebook sketch

"My nipples explode with delight"

oh jeez.

holy crap.

oh darn.

I can't believe she calls her vagina "down there" in the book.

My shock is partly due to familiarity only with Fanny Hill in the erotic novel genre, which never really said 'penis' or 'vagina' but instead generated 53,842 colorful euphemisms, none of which were as embarrassed and stupid as "down there."

"Let me fix you something to eat," he says.

"Can't I just go to bed?" I mutter wearily as I place my hand in his. He pulls me up. I am stiff. He gazes down at me, his expression soft.

"No, you need to eat. Come."

Bossy Edward is back. Oh, it's such a relief. He leads me to the kitchen area and ushers me towards a bar stool as he heads to the fridge. I glance at my watch. Jeez, nearly eleven thirty and I have to get up for work in the morning.

"Edward, I'm really not hungry."

He studiously ignores me as he ferrets through the enormous fridge.

"Cheese?" he asks.

"Not at this hour."

"Pretzels?"

"In the fridge? No," I snap.

He turns and grins at me.

"You don't like pretzels?"

"Not at eleven thirty. Edward, I'm going to bed. You can rummage around in your refrigerator for the rest of the night if you want. I'm tired, and I've had a far too interesting a day. A day I'd like I'd to forget."

I slide off the stool and he scowls at me, but right now I don't care. I want to go to bed – I'm exhausted.

"Macaroni and cheese?" He holds up a white bowl lidded with foil. He looks so hopeful and endearing.

"You like macaroni and cheese?" I ask.

He nods enthusiastically, and my heart just melts. He looks so young all of a sudden. Who would have thought? Edward Cullen likes nursery food.

"You want some?" he asks, like he's asking about something else – something much yummier than macaroni and cheese. I can't resist him, and actually I am hungry.

I grin and his answering grin is breathtaking. He takes the foil off the bowl and pops it into the microwave. I perch back on the school and watch the beauty that is Mr. Edward Cullen – the man who wants to marry me – move gracefully and with ease around his kitchen.

"So you know how to use the microwave then?" I tease softly.

"Nachos?"
"Nutter Butters?"
"Lunchables?"

yerac, stop reading whatever it is you're reading. it's bad for you.

"Two words: Toaster Strudels."

"Celeste pizza?"
"Go-Gurt?"
"Teriyaki sauce?"

ummmmmmm why can edward cullen eat food in this fanfic, he is a vampire

the real edward cullen would be microwaving her a deer haunch

"The venison is well...hung."

Abbottt otm re Fanny Hill

how did it get so popular?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u6ZtHrWiSAk&ob=av3e

Just wait until some brony's fan fiction is turned into a bestselling centaur romance novel.

@latebloomer: You don't have to wait if your smartphone gets the Web, honey!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUd0aYkAnic

"That's the ticket," I moan, as he drags his palm across my vajazzle.

"Boy howdy!" I shout as he vigorously punches me down there.

My inner goddess is doing a frenetic cha-cha slide.

"I want to remove your unmentionables," he mentions ironically.

"I can't believe this is only 60 calories!" I exclaim, spooning a luscious mound of vanilla yoplait into my mouth as he pounds my uh-oh.

Can someone confirm or deny for me that:
1. The writer's day job is in Public Relations
2. She wrote a shitty Twilight fan fic
3. She changed the names and a few details and made it into an original work
4. She spent her day job skills trying to convince everyone that this was getting a lot of buzz until it got actual coverage
5. PROFIT

All I've learned is that this woman must have amazing PR skills and should not quit her day job.

2-3 confirmed upthread.

I suspect that luck and timing have as much to do with it as her PR skills.

plus, TWILIGHT

"Holy crap," I mutter, as he gently taps my area with a $50 Target gift card. My inner goddess is doing Zoomba with added Cardio Abs moves.

oh jeez elmo, feel like that could have been written by someone I know, shit just got real

lolling so hard elmo

elmo and DJP, please co-write ilxor fan-fic romance novel

He reaches between my legs and pulls on the blue string… what!

http://i1.sndcdn.com/artworks-000020449911-50xm6p-original.jpg?4606e00

omg lol

aaaahaha

haaaa

Lil Jon would make an amazing Christian Grey.

cannot get over "inner goddess"

ya rly, that's just such a "I must find you and slap you" phrase

So it's like The Story of O for deeply stupid people?
― i love the large auns pictures! (Phil D.)
^this needs to be in big flashing text at the top of this thread methinks.

also thanks to AP I am now forcibly restraining myself from writing paragraphs about ilxor's inner goddess

DO IT DO IT DO IT

You are turning your back on a best seller if you don't write this.

"Gee whillikers!" I posit, as my inner goddess merely does a forward aerial half turn every alternate step.

He bends me over the Raymour & Flannigan sectional sofa and enters me suddenly from behind... I stiffen, and an involuntary "Oh, fudge!" escapes my lips.

I am pretty sure my inner goddess is going to get a leg cramp from this ceaseless meringue but that doesn't stop him.

He pulls my hips back and flips over my legs, twisting them 180 degrees. Then, he pulls back my head and folds my arms over my face. A sharp jolt snaps my hips into my shoulders and the transformation is complete. I am now a Volkswagen Beetle.

omg

Metamorphosis for the 2010s.

DJP we are clearly keeping you from irl fame and fortune

"Purr for me," he growls, his grey eyes glinting in my rear view mirror. "I want to hear my little love bug hum."

My heart skips a beat with every thrust. "Vrooom," I groan. "Vroom vrooooooooom.... Meep-meep!"

A sudden, sharp pain flashes across my hood, stinging especially where his high school ring scratches the paint. "No!" he shouts. "No Roadrunner shit! I only fuck sexy cars!"

Even this admonishment is making my tailpipe juicy with desire. Haltingly, I rev my engine some more, making sure to flash my brake lights. "Vroom?" I ask, craving dearly his approval and the feel of his love piston.

"Yes...." he moans, caressing my engorged leather interior. "Now let's see how you... handle."

Oh goodness. I don't know if I will recover from this ride.