HI-ALL, I'M NEW TO THIS SO PLEASE DON'T BE TOO HARSH OR MEAN. I FOUND OUT ABOUT A PLACE LIKE THIS TO WRITE STORIES VERY RECENTLY SO THIS IS MY FIRST GO. I'M A FSOG ADDICT SO THIS IS MY ATTEMPT TO WRITE AN ANA/CHRISTIAN STORY, BUT IN A DIFFERENT SETTING, A SORT OF FORBIDDEN ROMANCE.

BAD DESIRE

"Ana, fuck," Christian grunts as he thrusts in and out of her.

Ana tightens her hold with her fingers flexing over the taut muscles on his biceps, her nails pinching into his skin. With every thrust, every tilt of his pelvis, he takes her to another mystical pleasurable place that she loves to be when they are like this.

"You gonna come, baby?" He grazes his teeth up along her throat before pulling back to whisper into her lips. "You gonna come for me?"

"Yes!" Muscles clenching instinctively, heart hammering, Ana's head falls back against the cement wall, her eyes landing thoughtlessly on the shelving above them, the buckets and cleaning products stacked on them in the cleaning cupboard, as a soft grunt escapes her teeth. She feels her legs start to shake when he reaches between them, using his fingers as well, rubbing the pads of them around her hard clit. "Oh, my god," she moans, her head falling back again in bliss, hair falling in her eyes. Her eyes land on the cobwebs on the ceiling this time, the dust. "Oh, God."

"Come on," he encourages. "Feel it." He feels each tremor as it goes through her body. He watches her face closely, the flushed cheeks, the tongue peeking out slightly from her mouth as she bites down gently with her teeth- and he knows she's nearly there, this is the face she uses, and God, he loves that he can read her so easily. When she finally cries out, he kisses her mouth, swallowing her moans. "That's a girl." Ana's responding kiss ends up drowning his own long moan as he empties into the condom, and he leans forward, pressing his forehead against hers as they both still. "Shit, that felt so good, baby."

They stay like that for an immeasurable amount of time, listening to their own labored breathing. Ana's fingers run back and forth up his forearms, tracing a soothing pattern over his muscles while being particularly careful not to touch him in his "no-go-zones."

Then, Christian drops his head and kisses her shoulder before easing back outside of her gently. He removes the full condom, watching her as she smiles at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes while she leans off the wall, kneeling slightly to pull up her panties and her jeans.

God, he definitely loved this with her. She is so different now compared to when they first got together. No longer hesitant and more actively involved and daring. Eyes still on him, Ana comes forward again, reaching down, hooking each of her forefingers through his belt loops, gliding his trousers up over his waist. He makes a deep hum of approval at the back of his throat as she pulls up his fly and buttons up his trousers, a mischievous look still there in her eyes.

He definitely likes this part of it too. How helpful she is afterwards, like his little minion, his slave helping redress him.

He hears her clear her throat a little hoarsely while she pretends to straighten the collar of his white business shirt. "There we are," she says, her voice husky with satisfaction. "Now we're all good to go, Mr Grey."

He puts on his voice, the one he knows has a tendency to make her laugh, and strokes the tip of her nose once with his forefinger tenderly. "Good girl." He smiles when he succeeds and a short giggle escapes her.


Ana walks towards her class with her books tucked to her chest, her school satchel hanging off one shoulder and banging against the back of her ankles, head down low. High school is hard, and she knows she'll never fit in, she'll never belong. It's worse enough that she had to come in later during the year when the term had already started, all because she was sent off to live with her step-father Ray. She feels all the school kids stare at her as she walks past, judging her, gossiping about her. She's the new girl, invading a school where people have probably already settled into their cliques, their gangs. She'll never fit in now.

"Who's that?" she hears a girl ask from her locker. "What's with the dorky clothes?"

Her eyes shut a moment, her head stays down. Responding would be so satisfying, even more would be yelling for those staring at her to stop, but she doesn't. Sometimes it's easier being quiet when you're the new meat at school.

"Don't you all have something important to do such as getting to class?" His curt growl startles her, drawing her attention.

Ana lifts her eyes to him, seeing him for the first time, standing there, her eyes to his; Blue to gray. He's clearly some sort of teacher at the school, a few years older maybe, obviously too old to be a student. He's incredibly good looking. Tall at around six feet, dressed in a white dress shirt that clings to him, folded at the elbows, showing muscles, and grey slacks, his hair ruffled. She understands as the girls start moving along from their lockers, as everyone stops staring and starts moving briskly along the corridors. He's obviously some type of teacher-someone who holds authority over the students, otherwise why would they have snapped to it so quickly?

"Dork," another girl mutters, and her shoulder bangs into Ana's.

Christian's eyelids flicker as he watches the girl stumble slightly. He stares at her, how pitiful she looks, her shoulders tense and squared, head low, brown bangs dangling around her face. He's never seen her at the school before, she must be new here, yet he's had enough experience in his own years of starting high school to know how rough it can be, particularly the treatment as a new kid at the school. His heart clenches as she lifts her gaze to look at him once more, then she glances away, down, carrying on to her class.

He watches her go down the corridor, clutching his binder in a crushing grip.


She bumps his shoulder. Her books fall to the floor.

"I-I'm sorry," Ana stutters, meeting the boy's dark eyes for a moment before glancing back down, biting her lip.

"Hey, it's okay," he laughs. "My fault."

"No, I think it was actually mine," she gets out hurriedly. "I really wasn't watching where I was-"

"-Hey, it's cool. I'm Jose, by the way." He smiles at her, reaching down to collect her books. "You new here?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm Ana."

"What class you have?"

She starts to feel better. It would really help her if someone like him was nice enough to show her the ways to her classes. "Um, I have Biology first. Then I have P.E."

"Really?" He laughs in an obnoxiously loud, yet infectious way. "Me too. How funny." He doesn't give her books back, instead helping her carry them. "Have you gotten your locker yet?"

"No, I haven't. I guess that's why I've been lugging all these heavy books around," she tries to joke.

"Yeah, I noticed. Lockers help, believe me. Here, I can show you, then we can head to our first class together."


Christian stands in the large gym room, waiting for the rest of the class to fill in, changed into his gear for the day. He wipes the pads of his fingertips against his shorts uncontrollably while waiting for the last of his class to come in. Kate Kavanagh and Lauren are gossiping while texting on their phones as usual. He's worked out a special thing this year- called the 'tech basket'- where he gets all the students to put their phones into the basket until the lessons over. He reaches over to get the basket and start calling everyone in attendance to start putting their phones inside when he notices her walk into the gymnasium room.

It's the new girl he saw in the morning, but she's walking with one of his students, the boy Jose Rodriguez. Jose talks to her animatedly while the girl simply smiles, both hands in front of her as she plays with her fingers. As they stop and stand near the center of the gym, he finally addresses the class while grabbing the basket.

"All right, before we start, you all know how this goes," he says, raising his voice clearly. A few students groan. He sees Miss Kavanagh roll her eyes. "Put your phones and any other technology in the basket." He strolls around the circle, watching each student as they grudgingly place their phones into the basket with a sordid sense of satisfaction. Children and their phones these days. "No one here is allowed to be distracted during my class." As he reaches the new girl and Jose, stopping by them, he notices the girl smiles at him nervously while lifting her hands up. "Your phone," he orders.

"M-Mine's in my locker," she explains, her voice softer than he is expecting.

He feels his heart pulse with pleasure. Apparently the new student already know how it went down with phones not being allowed in during classes. "Good girl." After Jose places his phone in the basket, he places it down near the side of the wall, turning to face his class again. "Today, firstly, we're going to do some games." Ignoring the groans around him, he grabs the basket of sports balls he'd set out in preparation for the lesson earlier, dragging them closer. "Then after we've warmed up, I want you all to do some laps around the gym."

He's been working for years to finally accomplish his dream of becoming a teacher, more specifically a Physical Education Teacher. He'd studied for 4 years to get a Bachelor of Science in Education degree with an emphasis on physical education. Two years ago, he started by being an assistant when one of the teachers was sick, being a fill-in. Hard work paying off, now Christian's finally where he wants to be; Teaching about health, sports, and nutrition, something he saw vital for most children their ages to learn.

Ana watches as the teacher grabs one of the balls, bouncing it between his parted feet while directing the class. She still cannot believe he's actually a teacher- and that he ended up being her physical education teacher, of all things.

Just when she was starting to think it had been nice of him before to call the girl's out on being rude, and for everyone staring at her, just her luck, the cute guy ends up being her P.E teacher. Ana isn't very coordinated, and she hates sports with a passion. This is bound to be embarrassing- even more embarrassing, showing off her clumsiness to the hot P.E teacher.

She finds herself fidgeting nervously with her fingers as she watches him effortlessly command the class into getting into groups. As she goes to stand with Jose, she realizes he's already paired up with another boy.

"Sorry, Ana," he says, smiling glumly. "I usually pair up with Paul."

Ana looks around in a panic, noticing everyone has a partner except her. And the teacher.

"You." She whips her head towards him, surprised that he is even talking to her. And dreading what's to come. "Looks like we'll be partnering up, seeing as we're the other two left without a group. Is that all right with you?"

He cocks an eyebrow up while waiting for her answer, tossing the ball easily between both hands.

"Um, no," she answers, her voice soft as a whisper.

"No, it's not all right to partner up?" She senses he's amused.

"Um, no, I mean... I don't mind if we partner up. Sorry."

"Then good. What's your name? Your new to my class, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm Anastasia. Ana Steele, Sir."

"I'm Mr Grey, but please, I don't mind if you or the other students call me by my first name, which is Christian. Most of the others call me Christian anyway." She isn't used to calling a teacher by their actual first name; It seems strange. At her last school in Georgia, they were strict against it. "I like having a relaxed relationship with all my students."

"I'll just call you Mr Grey," Ana decides quietly.

"Fair enough. Suit yourself."

As they start bouncing the ball and he passes it to the new girl, Anastasia Steele, Christian stares at her, trying not to laugh or show his amusement. She isn't very good at dribbling the ball; In fact, she loses the ball twice when it ricochets off the tip of her sneakers, which only causes her to laugh softly and flush while running her fingers through her fringe. She won't meet his eyes, like she's shy. He wonders if he can find out more about her, about her home life, where she came from, and how she's finding the particular move to Seattle so far.

"You've joined late in the year?" He tries to encourage her to speak.

"Um, yeah. I just recently moved to live with my step-father, so I'm here now."

"Where did you originally come from?"

She glances his way quickly before glancing down again, concentrating on dribbling the ball, strands of hair falling in front of her face. "I used to live in Georgia, where I was born, with my Mom."

"And you're liking it here so far?"

She shrugs as she lifts her gaze to his briefly. "I guess so. I guess it was the... easiest option for my mother and her new husband." Something in the way she says it catches his attention, but she doesn't elaborate. As he watches her, trying to work her out, waiting for her to expand more, he notices the mark on her inside of her left slender wrist. A long line mark, like a scar.

"What happened to you?" He asks before he can stop himself.

"Huh?" Ana glances up at him confusedly. "With what?" She sees the way he gestures towards her wrist, then she glances down herself, realizing immediately. Great. "Oh, that's, um, that's nothing."

"You sure about that?" His concern is immediate. Rationalizing, he tells himself that's how he would respond to most of the students in his class if he came across worrying scars or bruises on their bodies. "Care to talk about it? If you need somebody with an open-mind that is willing to listen, Anastasia, then I'd be more than happy to." He watches her eyes, waiting to see any sign of what she wants.

Only she doesn't respond. She keeps her head low, her eyes to the ball, focusing, yet he senses he's gotten under her skin. He needs to know more about her. He doesn't know why, but she's gotten under his skin, and so quickly.

After the bell rings and the lesson ends, everyone packs up, shoving the balls back into the basket while Christian wanders around the group again, handing out their phones. He still wants to talk to the girl, to get her alone for some privacy. "Anastasia, will you stay back with me for a moment?" he asks her, his voice low once the class starts clearing out.

He watches as she bites down on her bottom lip while turning to face the door where all the other students are going. Then she turns back to him slowly. "Why?"

"Because I'd really like to talk to you for a moment, if that's all right?"

Looking up at him, she shrugs.

"I swear you're not in trouble," he adds with humor, trying to ease her nerves.

Dropping the basket back near the wall, he moves closer towards her. Lifting his hand, he reaches out, gently grabbing onto her forearm, pulling it out.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but what is this? I couldn't help noticing it when you partnered with me today and, frankly, I'm concerned." He traces his thumb over the scar gently before letting it go and staring at her. It definitely seems like a self-harm mark, that she'd cut herself. "Don't think that I'm asking because I'm judging you or that I'm going to get you into trouble; I assure you that I'm not. I would do this for any single one of my students if I saw something that concerned me."

Ana sighs, glancing down at the mark on her wrist herself before folding her arms over her stomach nervously. She still feels the tingle from where his thumb stroked around it. "I had a hard time back in Georgia, that's all." She's not even sure how this is any of his business. "But I'm fine now. I don't even know why I have to tell you this, I don't even know you, nor you me."

"I understand that. But I want you to know that if, no matter when, you're having a hard time like you did in Georgia, that there's someone here for you available if you ever need someone to talk to. I'd be more than happy to." He smiles at her; the first time she's actually seen him smile since first coming across him at school. And for a teacher, his smile is surprisingly enigmatic. She can't believe someone would be so caring yet meddlesome into her own business. "If you have any concerns at all, whether it's to do with... classmates or you're feeling stressed, feel free to come to me." He reaches out, gripping onto her shoulder quickly before letting go. "I'd be more than happy to assist and help in anyway you need."