Fifty Shades of Grey Tentacles

  Fifty Shades of Grey Tentacles

  Fifty Shades of Grey Tentacles

  Midpoint

  Fifty Shades of Grey Tentacles

  By Anita Dobs

  Copyright Anita Dobs 2012

  Published by Bloomingdale Books

  Smashwords Edition

  Disclaimer

  This is a work of fiction. All characters in this book are fictional, and any relation to anyone either living, dead, or to be born at a later date, is entirely unintentional. Any graphic sexual scenes are pure fantasy, and come with a 'Do not try this at home' warning.

  Being in the college Erotic Writing club, I'd managed to write quite a few stories that had won some acclaim. My first story, 'Teacher Dominates Student' had even won a school prize, with the dean of my literature department praising it for its hardcore action and realism, although I had wondered how he knew it was realistic unless he'd had some personal experience.

  As a senior, I'd also heard about my fair share of sexual experiences from others, although I myself was still a pure virgin, as pure as the driven snow. It was no barrier to me writing erotic fiction however, and I always made sure to include the most detailed blow-by-blow scenes in my stories, exactly as they were recounted to me. Sometimes I had to do further research though, which often led to confusion. In particular there was the time that Sybil, the well known and respected college slut, had told me about one of her sexual experiences with Ross, the college track star,

  “It was so big he almost split me in half.” She had said, as I was taking notes furiously,

  “Did you have to go to hospital afterward?” I'd asked, being genuinely concerned.

  “Huh?” She'd replied, looking at me perplexed.

  I'd found this kind of thing was common; I'd ask for further details from the people I was interviewing and they'd look at me dumbfounded. At first I put it down to stupidity on their part, but later I realized they couldn't understand the inner workings of a writer's mind, or why we needed the most intricate of details in order to add depth to our stories.

  “Oh Elle, could you do me a big favor?” Asked Sarah coming up to my desk as I was tapping away at my computer. Sarah usually wrote under the pen name 'Rachael Rimjob' and was looking flustered, she had several erotic stories on the go at one time and was trying to finish them all off, but was finding it hard going, what with her local church group meeting more often than most, taking up much of her free time.

  “I'm supposed to go and interview a well known billionaire BDSM expert this afternoon, but I just can't fit it in.” Sarah cooed.

  “BDSM expert? Well, I suppose I could go for you instead, I'm, working on a BDSM story myself, so it might help my own research.” I told her, trying to be helpful, but wondering if I'd ever now manage to get my erotic short 'Oh Doctor! Don't Bone Me!' finished.

  “It would really be a help.” Confessed Sarah, “The book I'm working on now is just too big and hard.”

  I knew how she felt, the big and hard ones sometimes brought tears to my eyes, so I usually tried to cram them in at night-time when I felt much more relaxed and able to work on their full length.

  “What time is the interview?” I asked Sarah, while toying with a pen around my lips.

  “Two pm.” She told me, as she walked out of the door.

  “Two pm! Holy fuck!” I exclaimed, “I'd better get going then.”

  I knew the BDSM expert Sarah had been talking about, everyone in our city of Gothom knew him. He'd been on the local and national news, talking about BDSM and how as a lifestyle choice it was far healthier than taking drugs, physically and psychologically. Oprah had even fast-tracked his book, 'The BDSM Diaries', for her book club. And now I was actually going to meet him.

  Mr. Grey, of the hugely successful Grey Candy Group, had made his fortune with his chain of candy stores across the country, I'd often walked past them, and always noted the catchy slogan underneath the main title: 'You Can't Keep Candy Down'. There was always a sense of mystery to him, he was reclusive yet socially erudite, cruel but kind, and well known as a faithful playboy, only taking a new submissive on once a year, before allowing them to pass his intensive course and then getting rid of them. But I had no such plans to become one of his many submissive women, I was far too independent and strong-willed for such things. There's no way I'd stand for only a one year relationship with him, I told myself, if I did have any kind of relationship with him - which I wouldn't - I'd probably be the one female able to change him, in fact. I had no interest in his billionaire lifestyle, or his well-endowed manhood that was reported in the news on a daily basis by his personal friend, commissioner Gordon Blimey.

  Quickly picking my papers up, I rushed to the bus station to catch the number 666 bus up to the Grey Confectionery Group office headquarters; the number of the bus was ominous in and of itself, as six was my unlucky number, and three of them together must be even worse. Walking through the large doors of the company, I was struck at the size and grandeur of the place. In the foyer was a huge phallic candy cane - without the hook part - and a fountain spurting water out the top of it. I'd never imagined candy was so popular as to warrant all the trappings of success that surrounded me, and felt some trepidation as I took the elevator to the sixteenth floor that the guard told me was where I could meet Grey.

  Winding my way through office cubicles with Grey office workers up to their daily routine, I tried to locate his office. I was already late and a little flustered and sweaty; I was glad I'd worn my low cut top that day, as it was like a natural air-conditioning system, all be it one that was more attractive to men. I hoped Grey wouldn't stare at my tits throughout our meeting, as that definitely wasn't what I wanted. I was a serious writer, and to have a man I'd not already decided I was attracted to admire my cleavage, really disgusted me. I often wondered when someone would get round to inventing high-tech 'only see-through when the man you're wearing your low cut top for is around' clothing. It would really save a lot of trouble. Perhaps it could also have a 'not attracted to, but need to influence' sub-setting. I was always coming up with world changing technological innovations like that, and sometimes wondered if I should have gone to M.I.T instead of New York community college. I'd decided against it when reading once that Will Smith had given up the chance to go to M.I.T to instead 'get jiggy with it' and become a famous rap star, and then T.V celebrity on the hit show 'The Fresh Prince of Bell-End'.

  I finally found Grey's office when rounding a corner and saw his stern looking secretary sitting at the reception desk, looking at me over her glasses, quite obviously jealous at the sight of the impressive breasts I was unconsciously displaying by arching my back, as the male office workers walked by.

  “Can I help you miss?” She said, trying to act officious but quite obviously being a total bitch.

  “I'm here to see Mr. Grey.” I told her in such a way that she'd know she didn't phase me, “My name's Elle James, and I'm an erotica author.”

  “Oh... another.” She sighed, and then looked through her diary,” You must be the replacement I guess.”

  “I'm only here as a favor to a friend.” I told her honestly, “I have no romantic interest whatsoever in handsome billionaire BDSM experts, this is all purely research for me.”

  “Yes, it always is my dear.” She replied, somewhat cryptically I thought. “I'll tell him you're here.”

  The secretary went off into Grey's office and I heard a few murmurs through the closed door. I looked down to make sure my breasts were even, there was nothing worse when you met a man for the first time and then realized afterward that your cleavage line was lop-sided. 'Mortal-Mammary-Mortification' I called it; and regardless of what position a man
held in society, I always made sure they were presentable, although if he had been a urinal janitor I might not have bothered.

  The secretary came out again,

  “He'll see you now.”

  Mr Grey had quite obviously given her a stern talking to for being so rude to me, and I held my nose up high when I walked past her. In the office, I saw Grey contemplating the skyline out of the large windows. He was obviously a deep thinker. I took a seat as he turned around,

  “Please take a sea....” He began to say, before seeing me already sat, “Oh, you already have, fine. No problem.”

  “Mr Grey, I think I should warn you, I'm an independent strong willed woman, no man tells me when to sit.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Further more, although I am hot, it doesn't mean I'm not exceptionally intelligent also.”

  Grey was taken aback by my boldness, but I could see he was impressed.

  “Erm, OK, so shall we get this interview started?”

  “Mr Grey, do not attempt any sexual innuendo with me!” I warned him.

  Grey raised his eyebrows, those attractive eyebrows covering those predatory eyes of his. He'd deliberately not looked at my tits even once in the twenty seconds I'd been in the room, and was now toying with me, trying to break down my will. I was fighting it tooth and nail, but I could feel myself squirming in the chair in front of him, as he walked across the room with his truly fine muscular billionaire buttocks protruding from his pants.

  “Look, Miss James, I'm not making any sexual innuendo's and feel it would be highly inappropriate anyway.” He said, obviously trying to cover-up his gross error of judgment, “Why don't you just ask me the questions you have prepared.”

  The truth was, I didn't have any questions prepared. I'd not had time, so I asked him the first thing that came to mind as I got my notepad and pencil out of my bag, while crossing my legs seductively.

  “Mr Grey, how would you initially go about seducing me... I mean seducing any attractive woman?”

  Grey paced up and down the room, contemplating the 'award-winning' question I'd posed. His broad shoulders seemed to take up the entire width of the room, and I started to imagine him throwing me onto his table and ravishing me by ripping my top off, with my ample breasts bursting forth into his mouth.

  “Well.” He finally began after a long pause, “I suppose I'd invite them out to dinner and get to know them first, to find out if we were a suitable match.”

  “Oh Mr. Grey! I may be a naive and virginal young girl, but even I know that's not the modus-operandi of a world class BDSM expert!” He was taking me for a fool, but I wasn't buying it, I'd been writing erotic stories for way too long to fall for that one. Grey looked shocked and asked me,

  “Well, what would you suggest Miss James?”

  “Hypothetically speaking, and only hypothetically speaking you understand, I'd insinuate some sexual activity to me by playing with something shaped like a penis, in those strong hands of yours.”

  Grey looked on his desk and picked out an item,

  “You mean like this staple gun?” He asked, holding it up.

  “No Mr. Grey! That does not look like a penis at all!”

  “So, as a young virgin, exactly how many penises have you actually seen?”

  He was toying with me again. The truth was, I'd never seen a real live anaconda-like cock in front of me, much less sucked on one.

  “I know what they look like Mr. Grey, I did take Biology.”

  “Ah, you took Biology, so you're a real expert then.”

  I didn't like the tone of his voice, I knew he was challenging me and I only had two options, to fold, or to play my hand. I'd come too far to fold - about three miles in fact - and so I upped the anti, and challenged him,

  “OK Mr. Grey, why don't you show me your billionaire penis that is talked about every night on the news that I pay little attention to.”

  Grey was flustered, I could tell he was, as he started quickly undoing his belt as fast as he possibly could. I had him right where I wanted him. Moving over toward me, he stood beside me and let his pants and boxer shorts fall, revealing the most beautiful hard and rigid cock I'd ever seen; although of course, I'd not actually seen any, but I imagined this one topped the lot of them. Grey held it erect and proud in his hand, sliding it up and down and teasing his fingers over the tip. I felt my pussy tighten.

  “So Miss James, would this be the kind of physical insinuation you mean?”

  “Oh yes Mr. Grey, yes indeed, you're really getting the idea now.” I said, not being able to take my eyes off it.

  “I apologize Miss. James, this is all new to me, what should I do next with my billionaire cock?”

  “Mr. Grey, you are a dominant BDSM expert, I can't be expected to tell you everything you should do, now can I? Use your own imagination.”

  Staring at Grey's anatomy made my mouth water, I just wanted him to grab my head and force me to suck it, but I knew as a lady, I was unable to ask for that; so I said a little prayer to the sex fairy, hoping she'd make my wish come true.

  “Open your mouth Miss. James.”

  “I certainly will not!” I shouted at him, truly indignant that he thought I'd be that easy, but hoping he'd ask me again.

  “Be a good girl and do as you're told, and suck those hot-pink lips onto the tip of my dick.” He commanded.

  I felt shocked and confused, how did this happen? I was in his office alone, with his penis staring right at me, and me, a virgin; I felt so helpless to refuse. I didn't want him to be angry with me, and I still needed to ask him quite a few questions; it seemed I had no choice, he was bending me to his will. I panted, and stared up at those deep eyes of his, as he edged his cock ever closer to my already open mouth.

  “Miss James, do I have to tell you twice?” He asked, being very serious and professional.

  I realized Mr. Grey wasn't very good at math, as that was the third time he'd told me, and not the second, but who cared, I certainly didn't at that moment!

  “OK Mr. Grey, but just this once, and only for research purposes.” I told him firmly, knowing I couldn't very well give up all the chips I had in play.

  Bringing my hand onto his warm shaft, I felt my own breath get deeper. I'd heard about blow jobs, I'd written about blow jobs, and now, I was actually going to give a billionaire my oral virginity, and I couldn't wait. I moved my mouth slowly onto his fine cock, wanting to savor the moment and also realizing I'd have to remember everything about it, just so I could write about it later. I felt his warm tool on my lips as he braced himself; sticking my tongue out slightly, I angled his cock up and licked from the base all the way up and across the pinky-purple tip.

  “Is that OK Mr Grey?” I asked wanting to know if I was doing it right.

  “Yes Miss James, but let me show you what you need to do more of.”

  Grey grabbed the back of my hair and pulled my head forward, delightfully ramming his cock into the back of my throat, I gagged slightly as he moaned - I could tell I was pleasing him - and then of my own accord, I started sucking his cock backwards and forwards in my mouth, I was a natural at this, I thought. I reached one of my hands around to his muscular buttock cheeks so I could pull him into me more. Looking up at him, I could see the look of desire in his eyes, my fresh-faced look engulfing his dick, and I was powerless to refuse now, even if I wanted to, which I didn't.

  Grey grabbed my hair at the side and forced my head to the left of his cock and I knew I was supposed to lick all over it. I decided to start on his balls and he told me how well-behaved I was, so I knew I must have had a knack for it. Grey reached down and slipped his hand into my bra, and for the first time, a man's hands were all over my soft tits, and the feeling started to make me feel like a bad and dirty girl, like I wanted to be a bad and dirty girl for him. I'd touched my own breasts before, imagining what it would be like for a man to touch them, but nothing had really prepared me for the absolute bliss of feeling strong, warm and experie
nced hands on them, and the feeling that it made in the rest of my body made me regret all the years I'd refused to let any boyfriend go near them, especially Brad the quarter-back, who had especially big hands.

  I heard myself moan a pleasurable moan, as I let my tongue rise from Grey's balls along the length of his veiny muscle, and then started to lick around the top.

  “Lick the rim of the head Miss. James.” He said, looking down at me sitting in his office, all prim and proper, although not so proper anymore.

  I flicked my tongue around it as he had instructed, and he pulled my breasts up and out of their dwelling.

  “Oh Miss. James! Those are quite possibly some of the finest tits I've ever seen. Rub my cock on your nipples.”

  I had no choice but to comply, and raised my body up slightly so I could get his wet dick onto them. Looking down I saw my nipples were harder than they'd ever been, and knew that they would really give him some strong feeling as I moved them over his purple mushroom. With his cock in my hand, I began to move it around my left breast, all over the nipples and around; my legs closed shut, with my pussy in need of something I'd never had before, then Grey took his cock back and said,

  “Here, let me show you how it's done.”

  He then began to move his cock all over my nipple, backwards and forwards, faster and faster, and I had to hold tight onto the chair. He let some of his saliva drip from his mouth and it arrived on my tits with a slopping sounding, and he continued to punish me with pleasure. Looking at his face and feeling my panties getting so wet, I wondered if he was going to come all over my face just like they did in the movies, but not the Hollywood ones. I'd done some research years before on the history of 'coming on her face' and found out it wasn't that popular before the late nineteen eighties, it had only become more and more fashionable with the advent of the free availability of hardcore porn online. Still, the Marquis de Sade had also mentioned 'coming on a girls face' in 1785, in his book 120 Day of Sodom, so I knew I was in good literary company if Grey did decide to do it.