Fifty Shades of Grey Recaps: Chapter Eight
With the impending release of the Fifty Shades film (Valentine’s Day 2015, folks!) I’m taking on the next chapter of the novel of our generation and-whisper it- the very first sex scene in the book. We left off just as Ana told Christian that she was a virgin, and something tells me it’s about to get sexy in an awkwardly written, slightly creepy way up in here! Pull up your dildos and fruit-sceneted intimate lubricant: let’s get the erotic side of this novel on the go.
Aaaand the chapter launches into usual magnificent style with Christian making Ana feel like shit for not having had sex before. Ana wonders “Why am I feeling guilty?”. Good fucking question. Christian explains that he’s not angry at Ana but with himself, and he’s just doing an amazing imitiation of a thundering cock who’s cross at someone for not having disclosed their sexual history when they first shook hands. There’s a question missing a question mark, and Ana gasps says he’d like to bite her lip, again. Look, I’m just saying that I wouldn’t let anyone who said they wanted to bite on my lip “hard” within twenty feet of my vagina. What is it with the Hannibal shit, anyway?
I’ll admit that I’m slightly looking forward to this sex scene. For all the things that Fifty Shades does wrong- and there’s everything from a lack of understanding of consent to silly editing gaffs- this is the thing it’s supposed to do right. If Fifty Shades can successfully fluff me, I can at least understand the point of this trilogy for all it’s atrocious faults.
The first thing I notice is a reference to “down there” and things “clenching” again as a euphemism for Ana’s arousal, and I’m immediately annoyed. This isn’t eighteenth-century bodice-ripping romance; Ana’s a twenty-one year old soon-to-be graduate who’s apparently baffled by what arousal amounts to, even though she dissolves into a sputtering pit of juices every time Christian glances at her? Euuuuuaaaaaaaaarrrrrgghh.
And, really, there’s not a huge amount worth mentioning in this sex scene. It’s kind of over-described and a little formal, which took me out of the otherwise okay action. I’m not reading it and thinking “waaaah, that’s super hot”. I’m reading it and thinking “I don’t need to know the colour of Ana’s bra”. She describes what is apparently her first ever orgasm (as she explains during the scene that she doesn’t masturbate, which might account for her inability to actually locate and name what arousal is) as “splintering”, which brings to mind the image of an over-full wooden barrel exploding for some reason. He finishes and within half a page they’re already screwing again, because being a billionaire with sexy eyes means that you’re permanently strolling about with a boner like a surprised cat’s tail.
At one point, he plays with her clitoris then sticks his finger in her mouth, and she notes internally that it tastes like blood. Either Ana’s started her period (not that I’d think Ana knows what one of those are, and just jams kitchen roll up there till it stops), or they’ve gone full blood-on-the-bedsheets virginal hymen-breaking with this. Not saying there’s anything wrong with that, but if I were Christian and someone were bleeding during sex, I’d at least give them the heads-up so they could go clean up if they waned before I (literally) plunged in for round two. He repeatedly tells her that she’s his, and that she can come on command, then he “pours into” her (funnel sex play, presumably) and they’re done. The big sex scene? Only okay (incidentally, check out Lush Stories or Literotica for short, free, occasionally excellent erotic fiction if Fifty Shades doesn’t float your boat. Or just download this, for free, because it’s the antithesis of this book in all ways and is super hot.).
Ana wakes up in the night, and hears Chrstian playing the piano because-
-THIS IS A TWILIGHT FANFICTION. He says he didn’t mean to disturb her, which is bullshit as you can’t play the piano silently, she gasps at his fingers on the keys etc, etc. They go back to bed, and Christian comments that the bloodied sheets will give his housekeeper something to think about, which begs the sentence I never thought I’d say again: be a human being and don’t make someone else wash your new girlfriend’s hymen blood off the sheets. I mean, come on.