Fifty Shades Of Grey: My Years With Elena *Warning - Explicit Content*

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'Picture this, an adolescent boy looking to earn some extra money so he can continue his secret drinking habit. So, I was in the backyard at the Lincolns', clearing some rubble and trash from the extension Mr. Lincoln had just added to their place. Elena - Mrs. Lincoln appeared out of nowhere and brought me some lemonade. I made some smart-ass remark...and she slapped me. She slapped me so hard. She then seduced me and I became her submissive for six years.'

And this is my account of what happened.

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33. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE


"AHHH!"

I grin salaciously as my Wartenberg pinwheel skates across Valena's ample breasts.

"Do you like that, Ms. Rossi?"

"Yes...Sir..." She moans.

I am knelt up between Val's legs in her bedroom. She is naked, blindfolded and cuffed to her bed.

I twirl the pinwheel around one areola and then suck hard. I move the pinwheel to the other breast and blow softly on her now moistened pink bud.

Her back arches as she cries out incoherently, and her arousing musky scent becomes much stronger.

Time to take matters into hand, I think...

I grab a condom off the nightstand and slide it on. I'm becoming quite adept at it now, thanks to the regular illicit little trysts with the enticing Ms. Rossi.

I place the pinwheel on the bed and grasp her hips.

A noise in the background distracts me...

"Val? It's only me dearest. The skincare course finished earlier than anticipated tonight."

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!

We both gasp in abject horror as we hear the apartment door close and footsteps across the floor.

"Did you lock the door?" I hiss.

"Didn't you?" She hisses back.

Holy mother of all nightmares.

I think my heart has literally stopped beating in my heaving chest.

"CHRISTIAN!" Val is now writhing and panicking. "I CAN'T SEE AND I'M CUFFED TO THE FUCKING BED!" She whispers in a frantic tone.

SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!

I leap of the bed and almost rip off her blindfold.

"Twist onto your side," I growl. "Don't argue, just do it!"

I lift the covers up to her chin, hit the bedside light and plunge us into darkness. I then scramble under her bed - scraping my erection on the carpet and wincing.

The door creaks open and through the chink of light I can make out Elena's high heeled boots.

"Aww...poor thing is exhausted," she whispers.

Oh Elena, if only you knew...

Happily my heart has restarted, but is now beating so frantically, I'm worrying I'm about to have a seizure.

After what feels like the longest time in my life, Elena finally pulls the door to, and I hear her move away. I slide back out from under the bed.

"Christian?" Val whispers.

"Yes, I'm here." I whisper back. "I'm going to un-cuff you. Just lie still so the cuffs don't make a noise."

As gently as I possibly can, I unlock the cuffs and she moves her hands free. I carefully remove them from the bedpost and then feel around for the pinwheel. Relieved to have both my toys back in my hands, I pad over to where I can just make out my rucksack in the darkness, place them quietly inside and then feel around for my clothes and quickly start to dress.

"What do we do now?" She hisses as she fumbles in the dark for her t-shirt.

"Sit tight." I whisper back, dragging on my dark tracksuit. "I'll go stand behind the door in case she comes in again. As soon as she's in her room I'll make a run for it."

"Okay. I am sorry, Christian."

I reach out till I find her face. "It's not your fault. Since when do her classes run short?"

We hear another noise and we both freeze. Then we hear water running.

"That's the shower!" Val breathes excitedly. "She must be getting ready to have one. Give her five minutes and then you should be okay."

I lean down and kiss her gently on the lips and she moans softly and kisses me back. I reluctantly pull away and stroke her lips.

"Okay, I'm going to go listen for the shower door. I'll be in touch."

"Okay. Be careful."

I grab my rucksack and pad to the door. All I can hear is my over-loud breathing. Finally I hear a door click closed and I cautiously open Valena's bedroom door and tentatively poke my head out. The lounge is unlit - the only light coming from the unit lights in the open-plan kitchen. I look furtively right and left and slip out, carefully pulling the door to and then as quickly and stealthily as I can, I head straight to the door.

 

I don't think I actually start breathing again until Escala comes into sight. I ran out of the apartment, ran down the exit stairs and haven't stopped running since.

That was far too close for comfort...

I genuinely really, really like Val and we have a great sex life. All the cloak and dagger stuff is exciting...but not to the point we risk upsetting Elena. She does NOT deserve to walk in on the two people she trusts most in this world. She's been hurt enough.

No...Me and Valena...It has to end...

I dive into an empty elevator and hit the button to my floor, my heart twisting in my chest.

I have to move on and leave them both in the past. Simple.

The lift starts to move and I sink to floor.

 

 

Christmas 2004

 

 

"These dauphinoise potatoes are really delicious, Mia. Well done."

"Thanks daddy." Mia turns her cute 15-year old face towards me. "Do you like them, Christian?"

I tilt my plate where I have a pile of her potatoes, her Vichy chantenay carrots and her braised fennel - which completely cover my slices of roast ham. She beams adorably and almost glows from within. She turns to Elliot...who stares cross-eyed at her with two chantenay carrots hanging from his mouth like a demented walrus.

"Elliot...not at the table..." Mom despairs as we all dissolve into fits of giggles. "I wonder how poor Elena is." She sighs. "This is her first Christmas alone."

I stop giggling immediately. "She isn't alone. She's with Valena." I say trying to sound nonchalant.

"Yes, but it's hardly the same - the pair of them holed up in that apartment."

"Let it go, Grace. You invited them, they politely declined."

Thank fuck.

The thought of sitting around mom's table on Christmas Day making polite conversation with two of my ex-lovers didn't exactly thrill me. Val had reluctantly agreed to call time on our trysts and now she and Elena are just good friends and business partners.

"I think she's coping extremely well considering. She looked amazing at the salon launch." Dad continues.

That'll be the reconstructive surgery and confidence-boosting face-lift I paid for.

Having stayed in hiding with Valena until she healed, I then flew the pair of them first class to Miami, on the pretence that that's where they had been staying since Elena had split with Linc. She had the surgery and finished her recuperation - and at least Val also had an extended break in the sunshine.

 

The salon launch in September had been a tremendous success. It was a little behind schedule, but Elena and especially Val had done an amazing job of networking via the Internet whilst they had been away and by the time they opened, they had a team of staff and a great client list. The business is doing tremendously well and both of them are insisting they pay me back for my investment and all the money I have outlaid in the past six months - but I've told them I'm in no hurry for repayments.

 

Grey Enterprise Holdings also goes from strength to strength; I'm crazy busy and loving every second of it. After the New Year I'm headIng to NYC to discuss my first shipment to the third world and I'm beyond excited.

 

My main problem is that since Valena and I called it a day, I have had to content myself with my right hand and Internet porn. I just haven't had the time to go to Angelica's.

Or the mind-set.

I know I want to be a Dom and to have a Submissive...but it's just that initial step that's proving difficult. Elena has offered to help me, but it's really something I want to do on my own.

"Oh, darling..." Mom interjects through my thoughts. "I found an old cardboard box in the attic when I was getting the Christmas decorations. It has some old things of yours in it. I left it by your bed if you want to go through it later."

 

 

After a gorgeous lunch where we sampled the culinary delights of my talented little sister, I'd snuck off into my old bedroom. Everyone had eaten too much, drank too much and had crashed on the couches watching 'It's A Wonderful Life.' I've been sprawled on my bed for the past half hour, going through the box mom found in the attic. So far I have come across loads of Mariners memorabilia from my first matches with dad and Elliot, my first baseball glove, a couple of kids books I vaguely remember and ticket stubs from various concerts. I don't really want to throw any of this stuff out, but I don't want it gathering dust in a box either. Getting to my feet, I open my desk and grab a box of pins. Reaching up to my old bulletin board I start to pin the Mariners pennants and ticket stubs to it. I grab the baseball glove and books and arrange them on my bookshelf. Once I'm done I go back and grab the box again. The final item at the bottom of the box is a scrapbook with my name on the front written in mom's neat handwriting. Intrigued, I sit at my desk, open it and find it's full of documented events and items from my early life. The first page is all about my first day at school and includes a photo of me in my new school uniform looking terrified.

"Christian's first day at West Seattle Elementary." Mom wrote. "I'm sure he'll have a fun time and make friends quickly. Plus he has his big brother Elliot for support."

Yeah right!

I struggled to make any friends and when I did try to speak to Elliot, all I would get was 'Go away you annoying little dweeb!'

Bastard!

I turn the page and find a painting stuck to it.

"Christian's first Abstract."

Holy Fuck!

Mom was trying to make light of it, but it's obvious even from that simple painting when I was five, that I had serious issues. The strokes are heavy and jagged, all in thick black paint, then I must have grabbed the paintbrush from the red pot, as I swirled tight circles in the foreground, mixing the colours and turning some areas a murky deep brown. The painting just screams anger and fear and I'm amazed mom kept it. Maybe it was so she could show it that asshole shrink I had at the time. The following page is a photo of me concentrating hard at the piano. "Christian is a very natural player with a good ear. He is picking up his scales very quickly. I'm so proud of him."

Aww, mom...

My school report on the following page is also pretty insightful.

"Christian is a quiet child who works hard and learns quickly. He excels at Math and sports. Unfortunately his social skills are behind the others in his class and he has struggled to make friends this year..."

Yup...Christian Grey - the quiet, clever loner who was good at sports.

Some things never change...

"Christian...Where are you? Dads made Eggnog and my plum pudding is nearly ready!"

"Okay Mia, be there in a sec." I call back.

I close the scrapbook and stand, lifting it to place on my bookshelf. A small white piece of paper slips out of the pages and floats down to my blue carpet. I bend, pick it up and turn it over. It's then I realise it's actually a little black and white old passport photo of a young woman. I frown at it and then I literally feel my heart stop beating.

HOLY FUCK!

It's her...

...My birth mom...

...THE CRACK WHORE.

Her image in my mind has grown hazy over the years, but I can still recognise her. What scares me most is I can now see myself in her...same wavy hair, same bone structure, same large sad eyes...

"CHRISTIAN!"

"I'M COMING!"

Goddammit she can be an irritating pain in the ass sometimes!

I grab a pin; stick the photo to the board and dash out of the room.

 

 

January 2005

 

My nightmares have become more frequent and vivid since finding that damned photo. Flynn has been doing his best to help and has even suggested a course of sleeping pills just to get me into a deep sleep and not stuck in the damned REM sleep that brings the nightmares, but there is no way I'm taking drugs.

I prefer Bourbon...

My business trip to New York has been a huge success. My first shipment should be ready to set sail within the next few months and on a professional level, I really couldn't be happier. But the nightmares are exhausting me mentally and if they keep up it won't be long before they start affecting me on a physical level too which is the last thing I need. So here I am on my last night in New York, drowning my sorrows in the bar of the Hilton Garden Inn where I've been staying for the past week.

"Buy a girl a drink?"

It's murmured so softly next to my ear, it almost doesn't register - just a warm whisper that makes my sideburns stand on end. My fingers curl tightly around the tumbler and I steel myself for a polite, but curt brush-off. I tilt my head to the side and I'm met with a pair of stunning emerald-green eyes, and a pretty heart-shaped face, all framed with thick dark locks of wavy brown hair.

FUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKK...

It's been months since I felt any kind of physical attraction to someone and now in the bar at the Hilton Garden Inn, it suddenly comes back in full force. I swallow and try and gain some composure.

"Sure," I finally breathe. "What'll it be?"

"Hendricks and cucumber, please." She smiles.

Cucumber and gin? Oh well, when in New York...

I nod at the bartender. "Two Hendricks please. With cucumber."

"Are you here on business, Mr..?"

" Gr..."

Shit. Maybe I should stay incognito.

I clear my throat. "Mr. Peach." I offer my hand. "And you are..?"

"Terri." She smiles, slipping a gentle hand into mine.

"First or last name?" I query.

"No...Just Terri."

Someone else is playing games I see...

I lean towards her. "Is that your real name?" I whisper.

Her emerald eyes glint under her bangs. "Is Mr. Peach yours?" She whispers back.

I grin and she grins naughtily back as our drinks arrive. She has a beautiful mouth - lush and plump with a full Cupid's bow. She's quite petite, but her features and colouring seem to be calling to something deep within me. We clink glasses and our eyes lock as we take a sip, and I feel a nice little shiver run through me.

"There's a booth free," she indicates with her chin. "Mind if we sit? These shoes aren't very comfortable."

I look her up and down. She's smartly dressed in a fitted grey business suit, black blouse and black high heels.

"Of course." I indicate with my hand. "Lead the way...Terri."

"Thank you...Mr. Peach."

She walks slightly ahead of me and my eyes drop to her ass as it wiggles against her fitted skirt.

Damn...That's one hell of a nice ass...Goddammit!

I take a steadying breath. There is no way I'm doing more than passing time with her, rather than drinking alone. Some random female company right now might just get me out of my funk.

If only I could stop being so fucking horny! My hands itch to run across that fine ass of hers...

We slide into a booth and sit adjacent to each other.

"So...Are you in New York on business, Mr. Peach?" She asks softly.

I nod. "I've been here a week. Just meeting after boring meeting for the most part, but I did manage a jog in Central Park, a visit to the Modern Art museum and I had a wander around Times Square earlier. What about you? I can't place your accent..?"

She smirks. "Originally from New Zealand, but I've been in New York for six years or so. My accent's a little muddled."

I smile. "Not at all. I quite like the inflection. So what brings you to the bar at the Hilton Garden Inn?" I ask as I take a sip of Hendricks.

This is actually really nice. I may have to swap from the Bourbon...

She looks at me through hooded eyes and takes a deep breath. "I come here to find lonely  businessmen to fuck."

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

I blink rapidly and I'm sure my jaw hits the table like Jim Carrey in The Mask. I'm struggling between being horrified and desperately turned on.

Terri makes to stand. "Look, Mr. Peach...you seem a decent guy and you looked lonely. If you're not interested..."

"NO!" I snap suddenly making us both jump. "Umm...no...Please..." I take a deep breath. "I'm  more than interested but...I..."

Crap! How do I put this?

"...I have...Umm...very singular tastes...when it comes to sex."

Terri's eyebrows shoot up and then she smiles. "Mr. Peach...I've been a lot of things to a lot of men. I'm not easily shocked. What's your singular taste?"

I swallow. I've never been put on the spot by an unfamiliar woman, but if I truly am to move forward and pursue a Dominant lifestyle then I have to either bite the bullet or run.

 

 

Time seems to stand still for I don't know how long. I sit transfixed by her emerald eyes as she stares at me - her expression unreadable - as I try to form words into some semblance of order. I nervously take a long slug of gin and then clear my throat. "BDSM." I finally whisper. "I like to tie up and dominate women. It can get...a bit...kinky." I blush.

"Kinky?" She repeats softly.

I nod. My pounding heart has lurched to my throat.

Goddammit, I want this woman. Despite only just meeting her and admitting she's some kind of high-class hooker, I desire her so badly I can almost taste her.

This is one of the most reckless things I have ever done...but her rejection right now could either make or break me. She takes a deep breath and her green eyes lock onto mine.

"So...what kind of kinky fuckery do you want to do to me, Mr. Peach?"

 

**Thank you all so much for your continued interest and support. It means so much to me. Some of you are liking the story so much you are pressing the like button twice! As much as I would love this to mean I get more likes - it actually means you cancel your original like so my likes in fact go down! :(  I'm so sorry to be a pain, but please note the number of likes before you like it in case you have already registered your like. At the moment it's at 115 - but it was 116! LOL! I love all your enthusiasm and I am thankful to each and everyone of you who have taken the time out of your busy lives to read the story, from the bottom of my heart. Hope you continue to enjoy it. Kind regards and best wishes Winbeth 6574 xx**

 

 

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