I’ll just go ahead and admit that I loved Fifty Shades of Grey. All three books. Every sexy word of ‘em, from their tantalizing covers to the sexy (in my mind, a Matt Damon look-alike) Christian Grey running his fingers through his wavy hair.
Go ahead, insert laughter, jeers, and condescension here, I get that these books are no Pultizer-prize winners or pieces of great
literature, but they sure are good for some seedy entertainment, and that’s okay with me. I was lucky enough to get the heads up from the great gals in our Richmondmom.com Junkies Facebook page on what to expect, and the ladies that couldn’t tell me what to expect from reading them were anxious to borrow them when I am finished.
Even my friend who runs the fabulous RiverCityDolls blog (who inspired this post’s title with her hilarious yet not-a-fan-of-Grey-trash-post, Fifty Shades of WTF) could not deter me from reading until the very last page of book three in under two weeks. Spoiler alert: don’t read her post unless you’ve finished the books or have no interest in reading them.
sexy image compliments of article.wn.com
Sure, my cheeks may have turned a slight shade of pink when ladies passed me knowing glances seeing the telltale silky gray tie on the cover (I’m not cool enough to have a Kindle/Nook so read ‘em old-school fashion) but it was worth every selacious moment.
Ladies, let’s just say there’s a reason these books have outsold all SEVEN of the Harry Potter books on Amazon. If you’ve not cracked the cover, I’m not gonna spoil it for you other than to say I knew nothing about the world of BSDM (bondage/domination/sadism/masochism) and
Why is author E. L. James smiling? Because she’s filthy stinking rich! Go on, girl!
as Christian Grey would put it, I’ve in fact had quite a “vanilla” sex life. If you’re more wordly than I am in the bedroom perhaps these books will equate to snoozers for you.
There were whips, gag balls, a red room of pain, a hot man with a penchant for spanking and other things that just I won’t type here because, well, my mom reads my blog. Let’s just say that I was as shocked as our heroine Anastasia Steele at most of Grey’s antics in the bedroom, but equally as curious as to what would happen next.
Beyond the obvious sex, let’s face it–for those of us in our late twentiesthirties, any man who stocks the
Oh, Christian Grey, you’re such a bad bad boy.
closet of his beloved with the finest Nordstrom fashions after traveling on his helicopter and sailboat as well as house in Aspen while taking off his t-shirt to reveal a sculpted six-pack is just a fun little journey away from my every day of corporate life, husband of fourteen years, three kids, crumbs on floor and pile ‘o laundry.Not that I’d give up all the glamour of my own vanilla world for a minute, but it sure was fun to be a fly on the wall of Anastasia’s for a couple weeks.
Even if I am still afraid of whips.
