Christian Grey, The Boy King, the heir to a large financial empire, lives life like a revered prince. The 16-year old stands atop the deck of his father's multi-tiered yacht wearing dark reflective sunglasses. His thick dark hair gently sways in the wind as he stoically watches. He is peering out across the beautiful sea near Rum Point on the north central tip of the Grand Cayman Islands. His white collared shirt is bent open, buttoned at the very body, his young tanned chiseled chest exposed in the perfectly serene Caribbean air.
Christian looks out beyond the world before him. An afternoon soiree is taking place on the lower deck of his boat. A sea of half-naked bodies, many of them ranging from 16 all the way up to the mid-20s, are pounding their feet upon the deck, dancing to the blasting music coming from the premium Bose speaker system on the floating party vessel. Christian raises a bottle of champagne, slowly dipping his head back and sipping. He has a glazed grin on his face; the confidence that comes from ownership, wealth and control. The party below him is white noise.
Christian's head subtly dips down, his eyes panning just slightly through his dark lenses, focusing on something—focusing on someone. A tall blonde in an all-white two-piece bathing suit strolls through the crowd, floating upon her two long legs. Christian doesn't know this young woman, her body well-formed, the kind of round full breasts you would see on someone penetrating into their early 20s. She could also be 18 or 19; wealthy young women down here don't resemble the teenagers back in the States. Whatever her age, she has numerous years on Christian, and at the moment, has his attention to boot.
She flashes her beautiful blue eyes up toward the second deck, making an unspoken connection with young Christian Grey. She knows exactly who he is and she has her desires fixated upon the young man. Christian is a lethal combination of young good looks and wealth, but a beautiful woman can be anyone's kryptonite. She pulls her plastic cup to her mouth, sipping whatever beverage she half-filled in there for the fifth time today.
Christian moves from the upper deck down to the main deck. He moves to the edge of the party by the entrance to the private cabins. There he waits, patiently standing behind his new body guard, Pong. Pong was imported from Japan on a business trip earlier in the year by the senior Grey. Pong says very little and just stares at everything, soaking in the world like a large oak tree standing upon the top of a hillside. Pong is wearing a slick black on black suit and sports a slick black pair of Oakley sunglasses. His black on black Armani suit, no tie, and his deadly stare give him the appearance of an assassin. The young Japanese man is cut from the same thread of his samurai ancestors.
Christian steps around Pong, patting him on the shoulder as he steps by. He waits for the blonde to emerge through the crowd. She arrives before Christian, her eyes staring with a slight cat-like slant; her devious intentions written across her face in permanent marker. I want you.
Christian is no normal 16-year old. He knows that look well; very well. He reaches out and offers his hand. She reaches out and takes it. The two strangers and silently interlocked by intense mental foreplay. He turns around and steps past Pong, gently dragging the blonde behind him with his hand.
Pong shifts slightly over, stepping in front of the blonde. Her drunken glossy smile flees quickly upon seeing the intimidating Asian's stoic expression. He forcibly, but gently, raises her arms up into the air. He does a pat down of mostly skin around her breasts and her bikini bottoms. The intrusion is all-business for Pong. Christian doesn't bat an eyelash, waiting patiently for her to emerge. The white noise of the party continues, blasting movie, people laughing, sloppily having a wonderful drunk time at the boy king's expense.
"Hey," she barks, after Pong pulls back her bikini bottom, peeking inside.
Pong stands up, staring right back at the young woman. She sees herself in Pong's reflective lenses, the man's continued look of professional assassin causing her pause. She wants to complain further, but is intimidated; and rightfully so.
Pong turns to Christian and nods, respectfully stepping aside. He subtly nods to the woman. She feels violated, but her attention once again turns to Christian. His shirt flutters like a flag waving in the wind. His exposed chest and perfectly chiseled abs draw the blonde's focus right back to where it was; sex.
Christian removes his sunglasses and re-extends his hand out. Her angered dissipates into an engaged smile, the connection reestablished. She once again enters Christian's world and steps forward, moving past Pong.
"I'm sorry, it's the price of admission," he whispers into her ear, looking over at Pong.
"I was expecting your hands inside me first; that's all," she sensually whispers into Christian's ear, her words oozing with sex.
Christian leads her through the bowels of the ship down to his personal cabin. He places his finger by the door and an electronic key pad reads his print. The door unlocks and he enters. Christian steps aside, allowing his guest to step by him and look the room over.
She takes a brief self-led tour around the room: a few model boats, a couple of paintings, puffy white down comforter on the bed, a cluster of matching swelled goose-feathered pillows, and a small hanging chandelier are the few highlights that strike her right away. And after her eyes soak in as much of the room as quickly as she possibly can take it in, her feet signal her eyes to look down. The white plush carpeting caresses her toes with each step, riding softly up and providing unmatched comfort. She smiles, enjoying everything she sees.
Christian is leaning by the doorway, watching her with a big smile on his face. He is enjoying watching her tour his cabin. She turns and sees the smirk on his face. She sexually starts to walk toward him and undoes her bikini top. She allows it to hang off her full perky breast, the top dangling, just hanging on. Christian closes the door behind him, locking the rest of the world away.
Her top hits the plush carpet and she goes right for his mouth. She aggressively kisses him, taking control right away. The experienced young woman knows what she wants and goes right for it. Their mouths are pressed up firmly against one another, their tongues surveying the deepest crevices of their mouths. They fuse together with passion, their sexual energies erupting into each other.
Christian flips her around and physically presses her up against the door, her face and chest pressing against the cold surface. She is surprised by enjoys the rough play. He kisses and bites her neck and back. She happily gives in to his aggression. Christian's hands take a firm grip around her hips as his mouth works over her body from top to bottom. He reaches her bikini bottoms and slowly moves his hands down. He dips with his hands, the softest of touches as he removes them off her body. The woman's head dips back in excited anticipation of what may come next, Christian now steering this sexual ship.
She waits and wonders as there is a moment of pause. She hears clothes hitting the ground and goes to turn around. His hand presses her face back against the door and he leans in to her ear.
"Not yet. I want you here," he whispers into her ear. "Do you trust me?" he asks.
The young woman, standing naked, the breath barely leaking in and out of her lungs, is drunk, sexually charged and a little frightened. Christian's tone is comforting and devious in a way she has never heard. It incites more excitement in her, the allure of the sexual unknown driving her forward. "Yes," she gasps, her breasts heaving in anticipation of what will come next.
She waits as a scarf is placed around her eyes, the world growing dark for her. She is slightly pulled back, her hands extending out, her palms pressed up against the door to hold her balance. Her breaths are quickened and short, her nerves starting to come undone. Her emotions teeter between wanting to be sexually taken to running in fear for her safety. She nervously remains and then is rewarded; kisses by her belly button and then by her inner thighs. Christian has strategically placed himself between her and the door and his warm lips migrate down to the outside of her spot. That is when his tongue emerges, the tip playing around, touching, whirling around, pressing. She hurls her head back in ecstasy, freely letting out a wail of exotic pleasure. As Christian continues she gets louder and louder. His right hand reaches around her body and his hand takes firm grip of her rear. He pulls it toward him, maximizing the force of his mouth. He rides her spot with his mouth and she can't get enough of it, screaming again and again.
"Yes!" she yells. "Oh, God!" she screams. She can't help herself.
She screams and screams as the intensity of his tongue takes her beyond anything she expected. She is free of inhibitions and the world around her and is driven to new heights of sexual pleasure. She screams and as a build of pleasure amasses inside her. She shouts unidentifiable burst of pleasure-filled sounds and reaches the apex of it all. Her knees weaken, her shouts muted by the lack of oxygen surfacing in her lungs. Her body stiffens, slightly contorting as she releases everything inside her. The massive wave of warm energy is followed by gasping and laughter. Her face is red and she tries to rise back up, catching her breath.
She reaches for her blindfold and Christian grabs her hand.
"Not yet," he says.
She lowers her hand, happily accepting whatever he wants to do next.
He leads her to the bed and gently beds her over the edge. He steps between her legs and slowly enters her. She gasps, momentarily surprised. Christian thrusts, his sexual energy boiling over inside him. He thrusts again and again and again. Christian's face starts to burn red, his inner most frustrations transferring from his internal struggles out through his sexual apparatus. He goes faster and faster, harder and harder. The blonde, already getting far more than she sexually expected, groans and yells as Christian violently thrusts. She loves it, getting it hard from the boy king.
He grunts and grunts. He reaches around and grabs her breasts, fondling them in his hands and he goes at her. He continues to relentlessly pound away, increasing to a furious speed. He is a runaway locomotive, giving his all; funneling all his energy into this moment. He thrusts and thrusts until he lets out a loud, "Ah!"
Her screams of enjoyment are overcome by his. The veins in Christian's neck pulsate as he releases, so much more than the sexual apex occurring. The build of energy is let go and he breathes heavily, attempting to catch his breaths. One by one, his breaths slow and his thrusts follow. Both come to an end. He pulls back, the blonde, sexually exploited in all the best ways, excitedly turns and removes her blindfold.
"You were as-advertised and more," she whispers in his ear.
She goes to kiss him and he turns his head away, creating an uncomfortable moment. His eyes peer distantly away, showing no emotion, wanting no contact with her. She smiles and nods, understanding exactly what this was.
"Thank you," she says with the raise of her eyebrows.
Within a few moments, she is dressed and leaves his room. Christian's face is a blank canvass. He moves, still naked, over to a drawn shade. He opens the shade as if there were a safe hidden behind a painting. It is the ocean, the rectangular looking glass giving him a bird's eye view of the ocean and the wonders to behold. The coral bottom is in view, the boat a fifteen feet above. The wonders of the sea swim all around, passing by Christian like strangers on the street. They go about their day and move through the water without a word, without a thought, without a single glance. Christian can disappear here and happily does in these serene moments following his sexual conquest.