Fifty Shades Freed is coming into our lives on Valentine's Day, but before you see it you need to prepare your eyeballs for what they're about to witness with a refresher of every single sex scene from the book. And there are a lot. And all of them are extremely hilariously written and NSFW. Have fun enjoying the poetic sensual musings of E.L. James.
Fifty Shades Freed starts off with a flashback to Ana and Christian's first time as a married couple, which casually takes place on a plane. In other words, they join the Mile High Club, except it's a super fancy Mile High Club that has a bed. Also Christian licks Ana's feet so if foot fetishes aren't your thing please feel free to skip ahead.
"You are so beautiful…wife." He runs his hands down my legs, then grasps my left foot. “You have such lovely legs. I want to kiss every inch of them. Starting here." He presses his lips against my big toe and then grazes the pad with his teeth. Everything south of my waistline convulses. His tongue glides up my instep and his teeth skim my heel and up to my ankle. He trails kisses up the inside of my calf; soft wet kisses. I wriggle beneath him.
"Still, Mrs. Grey," he warns, and suddenly he flips me onto my stomach and continues his leisurely journey with his mouth up the backs of my legs, to my thighs, my behind, and then he stops. I groan.
"I want you naked," he murmurs and slowly unhooks my corset, one hook at a time. When it’s flat on the bed beneath me, he runs his tongue up the length of my spine.
"What do you want, Mrs. Grey?" His words are soft and close to my ear. He’s almost lying on top of me … I can feel him hard against my behind.
According to Christian, your orgasm is more intense with a full bladder—so he casually asks Ana not to pee, handcuffs her, and proceeds to make her climax. Also fun fact, Ana creates a safe word, AKA "popsicle." Way to ruin fun childhood summer snacks for us!
He groans loudly and thrusts deep, again and again, over and over, and I am lost, trying to absorb the pleasure. It’s mind-blowing…body blowing…I long to straighten my legs, to control my imminent orgasm, but I can’t…I’m helpless. I’m his, just his, to do with as he wills…Tears spring to my eyes. This is too intense. I can’t stop him. I don’t want to stop him…I want…I want…oh no, oh no…this is too…
"That’s it," Christian growls. "Feel it, baby!"
I detonate around him, again and again, round and round, screaming loudly as my orgasm rips me apart, scorching through me like a wildfire, consuming everything. I am wrung ragged, tears streaming down my face—my body left pulsing and shaking.
In which Ana tries to please Christian by shaving her pubic hair, only she does it "wrong," and he has to "fix it." Like...maybe let Ana wear her pubic hair how she wants, Christian, you controlling-yet-lovable maniac!
With a gentleness that surprises me, he runs the razor over my sensitive flesh. “Keep still,” he says distractedly, and I know he’s concentrating hard.
It’s only a matter of minutes before he grabs the towel and wipes all the excess lather off me.
"There—that’s more like it," he muses, and I finally lift my arm to look at him as he sits back to admire his handiwork.
"Happy?" I ask, my voice hoarse.
"Very." He grins wickedly and slowly eases a finger inside me.
Christian is feeling super emotional after accidentally hurting Ana with some handcuffs, so they have sex to work through the feels. The description "he hisses" is inexplicably used.
He holds my head and with no preamble whatsoever he thrusts himself inside me, making me cry out—more in surprise than anything else—but I can still hear the hiss of his breath forced through his clenched teeth.
"Yessss," he hisses close to my ear. He stills, then swivels his hips once, pushing deeper, making me groan.
“I need you,” he growls, his voice low and husky. He runs his teeth along my jaw, nipping and sucking, and then he’s kissing me again, hard. I wrap my legs and arms around him, cradling and holding him hard against me, determined to wipe out whatever’s worrying him, and he starts to move…move like he’s trying to climb inside me. Over and over, frantic, primal, desperate, and before I lose myself in the insane rhythm and pace he’s setting, I briefly wonder once more what’s driving him, worrying him. But my body takes over, obliterating the thought, climbing and building so I am awash with sensation, meeting him thrust for thrust. Listening to his harsh breathing, labored and fierce at my ear. Knowing that he’s lost in me…I groan loudly, panting. It’s so erotic—his need for me.
In case it wasn't clear from this header, Christian and Ana are involved in a high speed car chase (believable!) and have sex after the rush of excitement. Because nothing says "romance" like almost dying in a fiery car crash.
"Hands on my knees, baby. Lean forward. Lift that glorious ass in the air. Mind your head."
Shit! We really are going to do this, in a public parking lot. I quickly scan the area in front of us and see no one, but feel a thrill coursing through me. I’m in a public lot! This is so hot! Christian shifts beneath me, and I hear the telltale sound of his zipper. Putting one arm around my waist and with his other hand tugging my lacy panties sideways, he impales me in one swift move.
"Ah!" I cry out, grinding down on him, and his breath hisses through his teeth. His arm snakes around me up to my neck and he grasps me under my chin. His hand spreads across my neck, pulling me back and tilting my head to one side so he can kiss my throat. His other hand grips my hip and together we start to move.
I push up with my feet, and he tilts himself into me—in and out. The sensation is…I groan loudly. It’s so deep this way. My left hand curls around the hand brake, my right hand braced against the door. His teeth graze my earlobe and he tugs—it’s almost painful. He bucks again and again into me. I rise and fall, and as we establish a rhythm, he moves his hand around beneath my skirt to the apex of my thighs, and his fingers gently tease my clitoris through the sheer finery of my panties.
Apparently post-car chase car sex just isn't enough to satiate Ana and Christian, so they go home to their playroom and hang out with a butt plug. Please prepare your eyeballs!
He smacks me hard once more so I cry out, then sticks two fingers inside me. He withdraws them immediately, spreading the moisture up, over, and around my anus.
"What are you going to do?" I ask, breathless. Oh my…is he going to fuck my ass?
"It’s not what you think," he murmurs reassuringly. "I told you, one step at time with this, baby." I hear the quiet spurt of some liquid, presumably from a tube, then his fingers are massaging me there again. Lubricating me…there! I squirm as my fear collides with my excitement of the unknown. He smacks me once more, lower, so he hits my sex. I groan. It feels…so good.
"Keep still," he says. "And don’t let go."
"This is lube." He spreads some more on me. I try not to wriggle beneath him, but my heart is pounding, my pulse haywire, as desire and anxiety pump through me.
"I have wanted to do this to you for some time now, Ana."
I groan. And I feel something cool, metallically cool, run down my spine.
"I have a small present for you here," Christian whispers.
An image from our show-and-tell springs to mind. Holy crap. A butt plug. Christian runs it down the parting between my buttocks.
Basically, Ana wants to make out on the couch but Christian is like, "nah let's do it."
"I want you," he murmurs, and it’s a green light to my libido. My fingers move into his hair, pulling his head back so I can claim his mouth, fire licking hot and high in my belly. He groans and pushes me back onto the couch. He sits up and rips off my sweatpants, undoing his fly at the same time.
"Home run," he whispers, and swiftly he fills me.
"Ah …" I groan and he stills, grabbing my face between his hands.
"I love you, Mrs. Grey," he murmurs and very slowly, very gently, he makes love to me until I come apart at the seams, calling his name and wrapping myself around him, never wanting to let him go.
Sigh, poor sweet Ana is simply trying to wash Christian's hair, when he's like "WAIT, NO, SUCK MY THUMB."
He leaves my damp blouse hanging open and, using both hands, he caresses my face with his fingers, his thumb skimming across my bottom lip. Suddenly, he thrusts his thumb into my mouth.
"Suck," he orders in a whisper, stressing the s. I close my mouth around him and do exactly that. Oh … I like this game. He tastes good. What else would I like to suck? The muscles in my belly clench at the thought. His lips part when I scrape my teeth and bite the soft pad of his thumb.
He groans and slowly extracts his wet thumb from my mouth and trails it down my chin, down my throat, over my sternum. He hooks it into the cup of my bra and yanks the cup down, freeing my breast.
Christian’s gaze never leaves mine. He’s watching each reaction that his touch elicits from me, and I’m watching him. It’s hot. Consuming. Possessive. I love it. He mirrors his actions with his other hand so both my breasts are free and, cupping them gently, he skims each thumb over a nipple, circling slowly, teasing and taunting each one so that they harden and distend beneath his skillful touch. I try, I really try not to move, but my nipples are hotwired to my groin, so I moan and throw my head back, closing my eyes and surrendering to the sweet, sweet torture.
Following the thumb-sucking incident that we will never be able to remove from our brain, Christian starts masturbating in front of Ana. He's just full of fun surprises!
He smirks. "You like?" he whispers.
"Hmm," I murmur appreciatively. He wraps his hand around himself and moves it up and down … Oh my. I gaze up at him through my lashes. Fuck, he’s so sexy.
"You’re biting your lip, Mrs. Grey."
"That’s because I’m hungry."
"Hungry?" His mouth opens in surprise, and his eyes widen a fraction.
"Hmm…" I agree and lick my lips.
He gives me his enigmatic smile and bites his lower lip as he continues to stroke himself. Why is the sight of my husband pleasuring himself such a turn-on?
"I see. You should have eaten your dinner." His tone is mocking and censorious at once. "But maybe I can oblige." He puts his hands on my waist. "Stand," he says softly, and I know what he’s going to do. I get to my feet, my legs no longer shaking.
I do as I’m told and kneel down on the cool tiled floor of the bathroom. He slides forward on the seat of the chair.
"Kiss me," he utters, holding his erection. I glance up at him, and he runs his tongue over his top teeth. It’s arousing, very arousing, to see his desire, his naked desire for me and my mouth. Leaning forward, my eyes on his, I kiss the tip of his erection. I watch him inhale sharply and clench his teeth. Christian cups the side of my head, and I run my tongue over the tip, tasting the small bead of dew on the end. Hmm…he tastes good. His mouth drops open farther as he gasps and I pounce, pulling him into my mouth and sucking hard.
The culmination of thumb-sucking and masturbation is the longest sex scene ever, which includes some, um, interesting descriptions of the noises Christian makes. (Please, no one ever use the words "guttural" or "feral" again.)
"Enough!" he growls. Reaching behind me, he frees my hands with one tug on my panties. I flex my wrists and stare from under my lashes into scorching eyes that gaze back at me with love and longing and lust. And I realize it’s me that wants to fuck him seven shades of Sunday. I want him badly. I want to watch him come apart beneath me. I grab his erection and scoot over him. Placing my other hand on his shoulder, very gently and slowly, I ease myself onto him. He makes a guttural, feral noise deep in his throat and, reaching up, pulls off my blouse, letting it fall to the floor. His hands move to my hips.
This particular sex scene ends somewhat awkwardly, when Ana can't handle being teased by Christian's vibrator and ends up using their safe word.
He holds it against my chest, and it feels like a large ball-like object vibrating against me. I shiver as it moves across my skin, down between my breasts, across to first one, then the other nipple, and I’m awash with sensation, tingling everywhere, synapses firing as dark, dark need pools at the base of my belly.
"Ah," I groan while Christian’s fingers continue to move inside me. I’m close…all this stimulation… Tilting my head back, I moan loudly and Christian stills his fingers. All sensation stops.
"No! Christian," I plead, trying to thrust my hips forward for some friction.
"Still, baby," he says while my impending orgasm melts away. He leans forward once more and kisses me.
"Frustrating, isn’t it?" he murmurs.
Oh no! Suddenly I understand his game.
"Hush," he says and kisses me. And he starts to move again—wand, fingers, thumb—a lethal combination of sensual torture. He shifts so his body brushes against mine. He’s still dressed, and the soft denim of his jeans brushes against my leg, his erection at my hip. So tantalizingly close. He brings me to the brink again, my body singing with need, and stops.
TL;DR Christian has a nightmare and Ana has to make him feel better with sex. As ya do.
Oh my. I cry out as the world is concentrated at the apex of my thighs, and it’s so erotic—Fuck—watching him. Watching his tongue against what feels like the most sensitive part of my body. And he shows no mercy, teasing and taunting, worshipping me. My body tenses and my arms start to tremble from the strain of staying upright.
"No…ah," I murmur. Gently, he eases one long finger inside me, and I can bear it no more, collapsing back onto the bed, relishing his mouth and fingers on and in me. Slowly and gently, he massages that sweet, sweet spot deep inside me. And that’s it—I’m gone. I explode around him, crying out an incoherent rendition of his name as my intense orgasm arches my back off the bed. I think I see stars it’s such a visceral primal feeling… Vaguely I’m aware that he’s nuzzling my belly, giving me soft, sweet kisses. Reaching down, I caress his hair.
"I’m not finished with you yet," he murmurs. And before I’ve fully come back to Seattle, planet Earth, he’s reaching for me, grasping my hips, and pulling me off the bed to where’s he’s kneeling, into his waiting lap and onto his waiting erection.
I gasp as he fills me. Holy cow…
A quick yet delightfully strange scene in which Christian fingers Ana and then has her kiss said fingers. Good times! 😶
Abruptly he withdraws his finger, leaving me wanting more, and he moves around to face me. He places the tip of his invading finger on my lower lip. Instinctively, I pucker my lips and kiss it, and I’m rewarded with a wicked grin. He puts his finger in his mouth and his expression informs me that I taste good…real good. I flush. Will it always shock me when he does that?
He grasps my hand.
"Come," he orders softly. I want to retort that I was about to, but in light of what happened in the playroom yesterday, I decide against it.
Christian has a very diverse palate, mmmkay?
I seize the front of his pajamas and yank them down, freeing his erection. I grab and squeeze him. He’s hard. The air whistles through his teeth as he inhales sharply, and I revel in his response.
"Fuck," he murmurs. He leans back, lifting my thighs, tipping me down onto the bed as I pull and squeeze him tightly, running my hand up and down him. Feeling a bead of moisture on his tip, I swirl it around with my thumb. As he lowers me to the mattress, I slip my thumb in my mouth to taste him while his hands travel up my body, caressing my hips, my stomach, my breasts.
"Taste good?" he asks as he hovers over me, eyes blazing.
"Yes. Here." I push my thumb into his mouth, and he sucks and bites the pad. I groan, grasp his head, and pull him down to me so I can kiss him.
This scene is relatively basic. Other than Christian spanking Ana. Oh, and her being in leather cuffs. So like, relatively basic for Fifty Shades.
I pull on my restraints and groan loudly in protest from his carnal assault. I’m trussed up in soft leather cuffs, each elbow bound to each knee, and Christian’s head bobs and weaves between my legs, his masterful tongue teasing me, relentless. I open my eyes and gaze unseeing at our bedroom ceiling, which is bathed in the soft late afternoon light. His tongue moves round and round, swirling and curling over and around the center of my universe. I want to straighten my legs and struggle in a vain attempt to control the pleasure. But I can’t. My fingers fist in his hair and I tug hard to fight his sublime torture.
"Don’t come," he murmurs in warning against me, his soft breath on my warm, wet flesh as he resists my fingers. "I will spank you if you come."
"Control, Ana. It’s all about control." His tongue renews its erotic incursion.
Oh, he knows what he’s doing. I am helpless to resist or stop my slavish reaction, and I try—really try—but my body detonates under his merciless ministrations, and his tongue doesn’t stop as he wrings every last ounce of debilitating pleasure from me.
"Oh, Ana," he scolds. "You came." His voice is soft with his triumphant reprimand. He flips me onto my front, and I shakily support myself on my forearms. He smacks me hard on my behind.
"Ah!" I cry out.
"Control," he admonishes, and, grabbing my hips, he thrusts himself into me. I cry out again, my flesh still quivering from the aftershocks of my orgasm. He stills while deep inside me and, leaning over, unclips first one, then the second cuff. He wraps his arm around me and pulls me into his lap, his front to my back, and his hand curls beneath my chin around my throat. I revel in the feeling of fullness.
"Move," he orders.
I moan and rise up and down on his lap.
"Faster," he whispers.
And I move faster and faster. He groans and his hand tips my head back as he nibbles my neck. His other hand travels leisurely across my body, from my hip, down to my sex, down to my clitoris…still sensitive from his earlier lavish attention. I whimper as his fingers close around me, teasing me once more.
Body oil! Restraints! Another casual evening at the Grey residence!
"I want to see you. See you enjoy your touch."
Oh fuck. I repeat the process. This is so…erotic.
"Keep still, Ana. Absorb the pleasure. Lower." His voice is low and husky, tempting and beguiling at once.
"You do it," I whisper.
"Oh, I will—soon. You. Lower. Now." Christian, exuding sensuality, runs his tongue along his teeth. Holy fuck…I writhe, pulling on the restraints.
He shakes his head, slowly. "Still." He rests his hands on my knees, holding me in place. "Come on, Ana—lower."
File under: help.
"Your body’s changing," he whispers. His thumb teases my nipple until it’s erect and straining against my bra. "I like," he adds. I watch his tongue taste and trace the line between my bra and my breast, tantalizing and teasing me. Taking my bra cup delicately between his teeth, he pulls it down, freeing my breast and nuzzling my nipple with his nose in the process. It puckers at his touch and from the chill of the gentle fall breeze. His lips close around me, and he sucks long and hard.
File under: no literally, help.
The strands of the flogger skim across my swollen belly at an aching, languorous pace.
"Have you had enough yet, Ana?" Christian whispers in my ear.
"Oh, please." I beg, pulling on the restraints above my head as I stand blindfolded and tethered to the grid in the playroom.
The flogger’s sweet sting bites into my behind.
I gasp. "Please, Sir."
Christian places his hand over my ringing skin and rubs gently.
"There. There. There." His words are soft. His hand moves south and around, and his fingers slide inside me.
"Mrs. Grey," he breathes, and his teeth pull on my earlobe. "You’re so ready."
His fingers slide in and out of me, hitting that spot, that sweet, sweet spot again. The flogger clatters onto the floor and his hand moves over my belly and up to my breasts. I tense. They are sensitive.