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Tag Archives: 50 shades of grey

Absolute bladder-busting, sexual delirium.

That would best describe both Fran’s mental and vaginal states as she loped, somewhat kangaroo-like, into her home, muttering “gotta have it, gotta have it”. Fran’s bladder and her vagina had become one, a not so romantic union that most of us guard against with every fiber in our soul. Fran was experiencing a unique brand of genital hysteria that not even the most experienced of gynocologists would recognize. Ana Grey may have found this bladder sex erotic, but Fran’s version didn’t seem to be quite as arousing. Her competitive side had take over, however, and by God, if Ana could do it, so could Fran!

And there sat her poor hubby, Stanley, quivering with a lump in his throat at what he feared could turn into a sexual, sadistic meltdown. A penal fear like he’d never known. Since his wife had found Christian Grey, their whole world had changed. Fun-lovin Fran had turned into f**kin-lovin Fran with a man-eating horniness he’d never before witnessed. There had been a time when Stanley could have “risen” to the occasion, not any type of Red Room explosion mind you, more of the ole faithful, slow and steady type, but never the less, Stan used to fan Fran’s flame. But those days were over.  Fran had butchered his proverbial meat. As he stared down at his “flat stanley” and his shriveled up peanut of a penis whispered “run Stanley, run”! If the whips has caused him to pass out, what was her bulging bladder going to do to him. The thought of trying to mount this woman at this point was not only nauseating but mind altering. Even if she got her Ana-grade “O”, a little pressure at the wrong angle could potentially generate a flood not seen since Biblical times.

Unfortunately for them, Fran’s sweet children spotted her at this point and having lost all reason, as she watched them racing towards her for some affection, all she could see was Christian Grey escaping from her. On instinct, she flung open the closest bathroom door and shoved her friend Bitsy and her two kids inside.  Running like lightening towards Stanley, she grabbed him by the neck and padlocked their bathroom. Fran looked pantingly at him and wasnt sure which was more arousing, Stanley or the commode. Stanley stood frozen, mortified at his tigress of a wife. Realizing he was of no use, Fran quickly threw her hair into a braid and resourcefully handcuffed her own hands and legs together, grabbed her Kindle, and commanded Stanley to read. She WAS going to reenact this, to HELL with everyone!

Stuttering and quivering, Stanley began…”You’re going to have to absorb all the pleasure….don’t move.” Fran moaned. Stanley cleared his throating, shifting uncomfortably, “You drive me crazy…so I am going to drive you crazy….biting, sucking…tasting, exploring, dominating.”  As Stanley read, Fran’s desired mounted and mounted….and MOUNTED! “Do you want me?….. Then you’ll have me….”  This wasn’t exactly the way Fran wanted it, but it would have to do. “Still baby, I want you,” Stanley read, “You’ll feel more this way…..” And just as Fran was about to “detonate”, her son came banging on the bathroom door, “mommy, mommy, why did you lock me in the bathroom, and did you buy me a “popsicle” today like you promised??”

“Popcicle”, said Fran? “That’s the ‘safe’ word!” “Who said the ‘safe’ word??” “I can’t hear the ‘safe’ word right now, that ruins everything!!”  Watching Fran and the look of rage on her face, Stanley decides he’s the one not feeling safe. He lugs blindfolded, handcuffed Fran off the floor, her braid swinging back and forth, plops her on the commode, and under a veil of Grey shame, escapes!

As Fran finally remedied her distended bladder, chanting some Hindu-like mantra, Stanley furiously scanned the yellow pages. His wife couldn’t be the only compulsive, addicted, horny, Chrstianite nutcase to turn her life over to BDSM all because of Christian Grey….there had to be a FSOG 12-step program out there.  Bondage, discipline, dominance, submission, sadism, masochism…..all Franny’s favorite words…..poor Stan was desperate!

 
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Posted by on June 8, 2012 in Fifty shades of grey

 

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A full bladder a la Ben Wa…

Bladder blog – Part Two Though I was hopeful Fran might reconsider deforming her body for the sake of an orgasm, I knew when she called me at 6:20 a.m. to tell me she had just downed three “Christian Grey Red Room of Pain” smoothies and had decided not to pee until midnight, that the day might become slightly problematic.  She seemed to make it through the morning reasonably well ,despite back-to-back meetings with several important clients, but by the time lunch rolled around, her voice HAD become a little urgent.  Of course it didn’t help that Fran had decided to heighten her pleasure by inserting a shiny new pair of Ben wa balls that her dear friend, Bitsy, had been so kind to give her for her birthday—apparently both Fran and Bitsy are good Christian-respecting women, every O, a sacred experience and every new toy, a Christmas morning relived. (As a side note, it is interesting to observe that despite being mission-style devotees throughout their lives, Bitsy even  suffering from frigidity from time to time, both girls, since devouring THE Trilogy, have “opened” themselves to new positions to put it mildly….) Come to find out, despite a lower abdomen that was protruding like a soft ball, Fran had decided to keep her scheduled lunch with some prominent bankers thinking she would be able to disguise the situation.  However, as we all know by now, Fran’s reasoning skills become a little skewed the deeper she falls into her Christian-trances and the bankers unfortunately were more than aware that, at a minimum, her walk was severely affected by the time lunch was over. The sideways lunge that she used when she rose to leave the restaurant caught the eye of many and it didn’t help that she threw out a slight moan with every step.  They had thought it slightly odd that Fran skipped the buffet and just ordered five iced teas for lunch, but by the time the meal was over and she began rolling her hips around in her chair while simultaneously rolling her eyes into the back of her head, they knew something was askew.By the time I saw her in our the school carline, she had taken to hopping up and down in her mini van. Hers was the only one rocking in the whole parking lot so it became quite obvious, quite quickly that we may have an emergency on our hands. The most alarming part came, however, when I noticed Fran had the book itself dangling from her rear-view mirror with clothes pins holding the pages back. If she’s not careful, she’s going to cause an amendment of the town’s driving ordinances…..driving your mini van, while reading Fifty Shades and sporting a full bladder a la Ben wa, no less has to classify as public endangerment. I guess the policeman who pulled Fran over was in agreement. I think he was probably thinking along the lines of OxyContin, but when Fran got out of her mini van bent over with her legs crossed so tightly, her veins were popping, and cupping her groin, the policeman wasn’t really sure what he’d encountered….He couldn’t really ticket her for reading as he couldn’t prove anything, but I guess Fran had purposefully picked a road that was in the process of being resurfaced with the hope this might intensify the Ben wa pleasure, all of which had created quite a scene on the road. I don’t know whether it was the balls, the road, or the full bladder, but I guess the big O finally came because Fran was apparently in such a state of delirium, she didn’t hear the policeman’s siren he was forced to deploy as a result of her ear-piercing climax. She got out of her mini van a little stiff to say the least, drenched in perspiration but smiling big no less. Disarmed by this scene, the poor policeman knew he had no choice but to arrest her as had he let her go and this freak of a mother had reentered the city streets, his license could have easily been revoked. Fortunately for Fran, she had quickly texted Bitsy to tell her about her traffic violation and Bitsy, being the loyal and understanding orgasm-loving mom that she is, jumped in her mini van and sped off to come to her sex-starved friend’s rescue.  Unfortunately for Fran, Bitsy did not arrive on the scene until AFTER the poor policeman had reached for his handcuffs.  When Fran saw those shiny, love-making tools emerge from his pocket, it was like watching a killer doberman spot a porterhouse steak. Fran began salivating, frothing at the mouth.  “CHRISTIAN MY CHRISTIAN,” she began chanting, “TAKE ME NOW”!  Despite Bitsy’s frantic speed, she was unable to stop this lurid scene from unfolding, and by the time her mini van screeched to a stop, Fran was on the ground, begging this poor man to handcuff her right hand to her right foot and her left hand to her left foot.  To top it off, she had a $100 bill clenched in her teeth, hoping to bribe him if wouldn’t willingly comply.  When Bitsy saw this, she was aghast!  She well knew they had both suffered some phyiscal indignities (all self-induced I might add) since starting the book, but getting the law involved?  This was a little edgy, even for them.Bitsy approached the officer warily, and swiftly leaned down to pull her friend out of the cultish appearing yogic pose she had assumed on a public thoroughfare.  As Fran had concluded the officer wasn’t quite understanding the extent of her physical need, she had begun rolling back and forth, grasping each ankle with her legs splayed, hoping he would get a glimpse of the point of insertion.  Bitsy pulled with all her might until Fran wearily gave up. Depsite this man’s beer gut, bald head, and missing teeth, all Fran could see in her deluded state were visions of Christian Grey in the flesh, the thick wavy hair with copper highlights, the piercing grey eyes and pants hanging sensually from the hips. (In reality, however, this poor man’s uniform pants were hiked up an entire foot above his jiggly mammouth belly which tells you just how far gone she was…)  When Bitsy finally resorted to telling the officer about some fabricated, servere mental problems her friend was experiencing, he let them both go, on the promise Bitsy would drive and probably relieved as hell to get this middle-aged, panting, purple-skinned woman away from him.As Bitsy shoved Fran in the car to take her home, poor Fran’s hubby was just arriving home himself.  He knew from her instruction that morning, the night may turn out to be a long one, but I don’t think even he could have predicted his wife’s current state.More to follow…..laters

 
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Posted by on June 5, 2012 in Fifty shades of grey

 

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“Death by Orgasm” on Memorial Day?

I’ve come to the conclusion that there are as many shades of 50 Shades’ readers as there are shades of Christian himself. Nowhere was this more evident than at my country club’s Memorial Day festivities this year.
Let me preface by establishing the fact that this club is the quintessential, old line, pain-in-the-neck, Lily Pulizer-wearing, bastion of conservatism that you see parodied in sit coms. Yes folks, there are still places where young men are proud to carry on their family’s nauseating legacy of plaid madras shorts and penny loafers–no socks–as they sport their military-like, sheared hair cuts and Kennedyesque bleached dental work. “Christian Alert” people, we’ve moved out of the 1950’s.  Please burn those ear-shatteringly loud kelly green pants for heaven’s sake. Christian’s crisp, white linen shirts and faded jeans are doing more to grease your ladies’ groins than your old dusty threads. No offense Ralph, but your iconic pony has  been deflowered by the likes of Christian Grey.
Needless to say, despite the perineal plethora of LL Bean monogrammed swim totes, there was a slightly different tilt to the pool scene this year. Yes, they may look like they’re needle pointing a belt for their husbands (with images of birds they can’t wait to blast into smithereens when hunting season hits) when in fact, they’re discussing how entry from behind leads to much deeper penetration. It is a very smooth and sophisticated group you see, with the exterior image of a model nuclear family, honed to a tee–everyone smiling, physician husband, beautiful tennis wife, handsome intellectual son and fairy-tale looking daughter.  There’s one caveat here….that beautiful wife has sweated profusely all afternoon, not from the heat, but from the “sex on legs” she’s spent the afternoon fantasizing about.  Who knew the 1%er’s were so sexually frustrated. Perhaps if we’d known this from the start, we could have avoided a lot of havoc on Wall Street. One hour with Christian in the shower and I would bet far fewer women would be protesting tax increases.
In the spirit of the holiday, there were those brave few, and I mean FEW,  who chose to read the book, cover exposed. Now depending on your point of view this is either courageous or mind-splinteringly stupid. It’s one thing for everyone at the pool to know you’re reading some sexually charged literature and quite another for them to unequivocally deduce that you’ve become so turned on that between your book and the lemon martini’s you’ve been ordering for the past two hours, you’re now requesting handcuffs from the 20-something server instead of your usual chicken Caesar.
Other’s decided to read electronically so they could deny affiliation with the book and further claim at Sunday school next week how fundamentally offended they are by this smut. There are in fact those that assert that while everyone else has succumbed to Christian’s “kinky f**kery”, they’ve opted instead to walk in Jesus’s path. All I can say to this is, you’re going to have to do more than just throw on your Tory  Burch ensemble to cover up your desire for nipple clamps. The brand names can only do so much ladies.
In fact, as the afternoon wore on, had there been a shred of doubt in anyone’s mind what the majority of women seated around the pool were reading, with each martini consumed, the picture became clearer and clearer.
Let’s just suffice it to say Fifty Shades, martini’s, and country club decorum don’t all blend together seamlessly. Poor Lily Pullitizer would have turned fifty shades of hot pink if she could have seen what these inhabiters of her Palm Beach prints were doing. Yes, their D.A.R. memberships may have had professional genealogical research to back them up, but by God, to hell with the Revolution, when the urge for “death by orgasm” calls, a woman must respond, Memorial Day or not.
And respond these women did.  It was a tad sobering when one woman,  having just completed book one and realizing her family was nowhere near ready to depart for the day, decided to take a dip in the pool. Unfortunately for the toddlers, the strongest jet she could find was in the baby pool. Legs splayed and head thrown back, she found her release. The poor babies, however, thought a groaning sea monster had invaded their waters.
This was nothing, however, compared to the 50-year old grandmother who, only half way through book two, decided she had to have a schlong, sooner rather than later, proceeded to climb the life guard chair, peel her knee-length skirted one-piece to the side and gleefully attempt to mount the only male life guard on the premise. “Hail to the Chief!”
Other readers I know, however, have had an array of 50 Shades mishaps shall we say and were not able to make it to the pool at all to celebrate our troops. My friend whose poor husband wasted away from the hour plus Hustler store tutorial, has now injured herself from a combination of the compulsory angle in which she has held her neck for the last three days, trying to get through book two and further complicated by the big-rabbit vibrator she bought, (hoping to “detonate” as Ana did),  which apparently had such powerful capability, she experienced a “healing cathartic orgasm”,  (and unfortunately, one that left her in a neck brace). Rumor has it though, another of our friends wound up in the ER on Memorial Eve, unable to retrieve the butt plugs she forced her husband to insert despite his protests.  I’m thinking that fine line between pleasure and pain became too much for her to bare….
All in all, it was a Memorial Day to remember.  Though it may not have appeared as if the root of the holiday was at the forefront of everyone’s mind, I think we could argue they did their best. “Onward Christian Soldiers…”
 
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Posted by on May 30, 2012 in Fifty shades of grey

 

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Fifty Shades Stimulus Package!

Thank you, thank you, thank you EL James for bringing Christian Grey into our lives….
I can’t speak for the rest of the nation, but in this sleepy southern town, filled with mini vans and soccer moms, “Fifty Shades” has enabled even some of our most conservative set to think (and act) outside of the proverbial sexual box.
Fortunately, none of OUR libraries have yet to ban the book. In my mind, that’s bordering on heresy. And of course, banning the books is all it takes to wipe away any and all lustful and lascivious thoughts, right? (It is interesting though as a side note, a librarian in one community that objected to the book so profusely, does still have the book, as reported, on her office desk with all the scandalous parts marked. How convenient for her. She gets paid to read this book!  I imagine she will continue to publicly object to this book for a good long while if she’s able to keep it close at hand with the “objectionable” parts marked for easy access. Has anyone checked her desk drawer? Bet her supply of batteries is not lacking. And yes, I would imagine she’s experiencing heightened levels of “satisfaction” from her job this spring….)
Why should any good- willed, law-abiding, tax-paying citizen have to endure such depravation and be prohibited the pleasure of reading about those long fingers, those stealthy hips with their perfectly hung pants, that beautiful thick copper hair and those stinging, piercing grey eyes?
Just think what this type of sexual censorship could lead to. The next thing you know, those same folks will be knocking on our doors trying to confiscate our Rabbits for crying out loud and then where will we be????
Banning E L James, really?? We need to be unabashedly thanking her.  This book has made America come alive!  In fact, mayors across America should be bowing down to her for what her imagination has done for their local economies. Let’s break this down. Book stores can’t keep it on the shelves, Hustler stores are smiling big and gas is being guzzled as moms everywhere are lingering at lights, in parking lots and even in their garages as they revel in thoughts of Christian’s playroom. It’s trickle-down economics at its best!
Not to mention, the production levels of many husbands have probably soared through the roof this spring.  They think they’ve died and gone to heaven,  willing half their estate to James if she would just write a fourth book. Thoughts of the shackles, the cuffs, the whips….testosterone levels are soaring. Even the secretaries they used to have afternoon quickies with are getting ignored so they can get home to their soccer wives turned sex slaves.  Look at the boom this is providing the sanctity of marriage, our nation’s oldest institution. That’s right, I would venture to say you are just plain un-American unless you read these books. Thank you again EL James, smack dab in the middle of an election year, you’ve shown us just what it means to be an American.
 I vote Obama should consider hiring this woman. Her “stimulus package” could compete with his any day. After all, there are plenty of women out their who, after reading James’ books, would pay good money to stimulate Christian’s package….
 
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Posted by on May 24, 2012 in Fifty shades of grey

 

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Caution at the ball field!

Women all over the country are Greyzed and Confused by this summer’s must read series “Fifty shades of Grey”.The sale of Ben Wa balls have sky rocketed .How could something be perverted if everyone is reading it?

So it is indeed true that there may be more than just baseballs being played with at the ballpark this season….

If you have noticed an unusually brilliant glow on many moms’ faces, smiles incongruous with the nose-pickin whiners in their back seats, along with a noticeable calm not seen since pre-children days, it may be a result of more than just little Johnny’s latest homerun. Fifty Shades has reminded numerous mini van owners around the country of the portable thrill Ben wa balls can provide.  Yes, Anastasia enjoyed them, but her thrill level couldn’t possibly begin to compare with the world it has opened to us moms as we load the dishes, fold the laundry and unstop the clogged toilet.  I mean, what a wonderful concept to be able to carpool while you climax!  If you haven’t yet experimented, it is highly recommend that you do.  Join us as we pay homage to Christian, thoughts of those long fingers could light your mini van on fire.

One note of caution…..if you do decide to sport these shiny balls at the ball park, it might be prudent to pay a modicum of attention to the game as it would not be particularly advisable to be shouting YES!, YES!, YES! as little Johnny strikes out…..

There have been a number of parodies of the book.This is one of the best!

ImageImage

 
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Posted by on May 23, 2012 in Fifty shades of grey

 

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