This story is about a man who has a thing for blondes, a blondes fetish basically. I am in no way saying that all blondes are naive, he just happens to like those very much but not because he is a sexist - he is not, I assure you -, only because like every human being he has sexual preferences and since he isn't hurting anyone or breaking any laws, please don't judge him too hard. I think I made it perfectly clear that he has nothing against intelligent women in the story, but if you still feel like he does, then let me assure you that it is not the case. I just wanted to play with the gender roles and the oversexualization of blonde women - women in general if we have to be honest.

THIS IS FOR FUN.

ADD DISCLAIMER HERE WHICH TELLS YOU EVERYTHING YOU ALREADY KNOW: DONT OWN SHIT; DONT EARN SHIT!

The act of seduction

Description: Christian Grey liked his women tall, blonde and preferably naive. But the first kiss of a certain brunette might change his preferences. Sometimes a kiss means more than a thousand words. AxC – HEA!

1. The apple tree

CPOV

I was a very picky bastard.

I liked things in a certain way, like the brand of beer I drunk or the bars I went to. I wouldn't call myself a snob since I had no problem with eating store-brand chips or marshmallows – I had a bit of a sweet tooth -, but I didn't spare money when it came to my luxurious needs like my car or my bottle of cologne.

I just liked certain things more than others and I did everything I could to get what I wanted. It was unacceptable for me to use another brand of shampoo for example and if I had to, I got pissed. My sister, Mia, always liked to call me me a neat, controlling freak who didn't compromise and always demanded what he thought he deserved. At this part she always liked to point out about the time I made my poor father leave at an ungodly hour of the night to get me my brand of juice when we were staying at our place in Aspen many years ago. It had been snowing like crazy all day but my father, god bless his soul, had actually driven out to the nearest store to get my picky ass some orange juice.

But the thing was that I could afford my lifestyle.

My parents weren't poor, I myself wasn't going to be poor anytime soon and as long as I didn't bother others with my special needs and wishes – except the time I bothered my father in Aspen -, I saw no problem in being picky – or snobby as Mia liked to call it.

It was no wonder that I, Christian Grey, who could be picky when it came to stupid things like the store I bought my bread from, was picky when it came to my women. It took me nearly twenty-two years of my life to finally find my type. I liked long legged blondes with a great rack – and I am not talking about a ridiculously huge C- or D-cup, a handful B-cup is just perfect – and a small mind. I liked how pretty they were, how naive they could be and how they always looked like they stepped out of a magazine. I liked how their golden hair sympathized their already pale skin stretching over lean and curved muscles. Add an intense eye color, which didn't have to be blue, and I was a goner.

You can call me shallow if you want to, but let's be honest: who doesn't like beautiful women?

I had the right to find sun goddesses like blondes attractive.

"Come on, Christian. Another." Elena, sun goddess #12, giggled as she took another selfie of us with a Snapchat filter where we were sporting dog ears. She laughed as she opened her pouty mouth and a long, cartoon tongue swiped over the screen in her phone. I did the same just to make her laugh.

"Oh, look. This one is cool." She said as she turned her phone's front camera away from me so she was the only one in the frame. A flower crown was placed on her head as she took pictures after pictures, pursing her lips or making goofy faces.

I watched her for a few seconds.

Elena Lincoln was a dramatically beautiful woman. She had long blonde hair which reached her waist and light green eyes with golden sprinkles in them. Her cheekbones were high and sharp, her mind not so much. Her lips were pouty red, capable of heavenly good things and making a smart man become stupid. She always wore fancy, expensive clothes – her father was some important tycoon in the business world or something – from famous brands. Her hobbies included doing make-up, talking about make-up and taking selfies with Snapchat filters. She could be considered dull or superficial, but sadly, in our society, beauty meant more than brains.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't have a problem with intelligent women, I actually very much liked them, but sexually I felt attractive to blondes who didn't know the difference between a pie and Pi.

Was that really so wrong?

Just because I liked my blondes a little lacking in the brains department, I usually got the cold shoulder from my friends and family. My sister especially liked to make fun of my bimbo of the month as she liked to call them.

Why was it acceptable if a man favored blondes or brunettes, but unacceptable if he preferred them a little bit naive, too?

I wasn't playing games with them after all, I wasn't taking advantage of them either. I was honest from the beginning, telling them that I didn't except a long lasting relationship or the usual marriage crap that came with it. I was twenty-one, nearly twenty-two, and too young to think about a future with a woman. Wasn't the whole point of college to have some fun while you could afford it? Why was I still being judged by others? Or did people just like to judge anyone they could?

"I'm posting this one on Instagram, okay?" Elena hold her phone to me, showing me a selfie of us where she was kissing my left cheek while some funky hearts and stars where flying around our heads. I barely looked at our expressions and just nodded since I knew it would please her if she could show me off to her social media friends and foes. I watched her type down a description with tons of Emojis and hashtags, cringing internally at the 'boyfriend' she typed underneath our picture. I mean you could call me her boyfriend since we were dating for a month now and I had pretty much seen her naked more often than I had teeth in my mouth, but still being called 'the boyfriend' brought a certain integrity with it.

"We look so good together, right?" She asked me with a squeal as she couldn't keep her eyes of our now online picture. I followed her stare, concentrating not on her face for once. Instead I looked at my own face, the long one with gray eyes and a sharp jaw. I was one hot looking motherfucker, I couldn't deny it. No wonder why women like Elena fell for me.

"It's all you, baby." I answered her, throwing my arm over her shoulders and pulling her tighter against me. She smelled of Chanel No. 5. Immediately she snuggled at my side while scrolling down her Instagram dashboard. Here and there she double clicked on pictures to like them.

"No, it's all us, sweetie." She said in a girly voice, sounding more like a kid than an adult. I tried not to cringe at the nickname she had given me, it was anything but manly.

I didn't really fancy the thought of being an 'us' with Elena Lincoln, but as long as that meant I was gifted with her beautiful presence, who was I to say anything?

Finally she turned off her phone, giving me the attention I had been seeking all day. Last night she had turned my invitation to stay at my place down since one of her best friends had been going through a bad break-up. It had been four days since the last time we had sex, I was really craving it. But for her credit, she hadn't left her friend alone just because of me and in my opinion this showed that she wasn't as superficial and soulless as some might think she was.

"Sweetie." She whispered at my lips, finally kissing me, finally letting me taste her sweet lips. I was an addict, her lips were my drugs.

Immediately my arms circled her hips, trying to pull her into my lap, but she resisted me by placing her elegant hands on my shirt clothed chest.

"It's too public for a dry hump, sweetie." She laughed softly at my lips but thankfully she returned to kissing me. I tried to find a spot of naked skin on her lower back, even rising her shirt a little just so I could run my fingers on her most sensitive spot: her hips. It turned her on whenever I traced invisible lines on the skin of her hips. She moaned quietly into my mouth as our tongues fought an endless battle. Her hands started to wander to my neck where she played with the curly ends of my copper-colored hair. She always told me that it reminded her of a penny.

"Mhh." Elena let out when I bit her bottom lip, driving me crazy with her soft moans. I anticipated the moment I would her her moan when she was naked and underneath me.

Suddenly, her phone 'pinged', making her interrupt our kiss. What the hell?

"Oh, it's Maria." She said excitedly as she read whatever her friend had written her. It pissed me off that she interrupted our kiss just because of a text message of her best friend. It was rude and disrespectful.

"Oh no. She wants to drive to Tacoma after him." Elena frowned as she kept on reading, sharing a few facts with me as if I was interested in what Maria and her boyfriend did. What pissed me off more was the fact that Elena was unaware of my sour mood. That was the problem with dating someone who wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer: they weren't good at getting clues.

"Sorry, sweetie, I have to go." Elena said after throwing her phone and sunglasses which had been lying on the table in front of us into her purse. She leaned forward to press a chaste kiss on my lips before rushing out of the cafe we had been sitting in, leaving me alone with a case of blue balls and a sour mood.

"What have you expected? Girls have this ridiculous code, 'chicks before dicks' or something." Elliott said while he did knee bends on the red carpet of our living room. As a sports major he practiced any kind of athletic activity he was capable off.

With a tired sigh I opened my cold bottle of beer – one of the few things we actually had in our fridge since someone didn't go grocery shopping because his fitness group had a small gathering – and leaned back in our black leather couch. I took a big gulp of my drink, placing my feet on our coffee table.

"I'm not mad because she went to help her friend. I'm mad because she interrupted our kiss for a text message." I explained him.

"For someone who doesn't want a serious relationship with her, you are awfully sulky." He now was doing push-ups. I felt ridiculously jealous on how easy it looked on him.

Elliott Grimes was my best friend since High school and roommate since the beginning of college. He was a sports major who liked to do triathlons for fun – no, seriously, he did them for fun, I know how weird that sounds - and he was under the impression that he kinda resembled Christian Bale since a drunken girl had told him so at a bar years ago.

"It was rude of her. That's all." I took my phone out to check if she had actually texted me or called me, but nada. Whatever problem Marie had, it better be good.

"Chris, -" He knew exactly that I hated being called by the stupid nickname he had given me and which my friends and family were now using more frequently. "-, I know you like the back of my hand. You are already getting bored of this chick that's why you are looking for an excuse to end whatever you guys have. Am I right?"

And I also hated whenever he hit the nail on the head.

My silence was answer enough for him. He grinned smugly as he took the towel around his neck to swipe away the sweat on his face.

"Just end it if you are bored instead of being a little bitch."

I really didn't want to though. Yes, Elena was getting annoying and boring, but I was too lazy to find someone new again. She was ready and willing, the temptation of routine was too big.

"God. I really don't want to, but I really have to." I groaned and threw my head back with closed eyes. She was too beautiful to be left, but she was too annoying to be with. If it weren't a dick move, I would have ended things via text just because I wasn't strong enough to see her tears. But 'please don't break up with me – sex' sounded appealing in my blue balled situation. Four days were really a longer time than one might think.

On Friday, I was sitting in the same cafe where Elena and I had posted our Instagram picture together which had gotten over three hundred likes in five days. I had been at class all day long – for those who are wondering, I am majoring in Business and Politics – and the only thing I wanted was to get home to catch up some sleep before the party tonight. My sister and her roommate were throwing a party at their flat and as the big brother I was committed to attend it. Mia and I weren't in the best mood to be around each other, she had been sulking at me since I had started dating Elena. I hoped that the fact that I had broken up with said girl and a bottle of her favorite champagne would please her enough to talk to me again.

I hadn't seen Elena since Monday where her best friend had managed to break our kiss with just a text message. Immediately Elena had run off to help her friend, a pathetic little thing who was running after a boy who clearly didn't want her anymore. He even had moved to Tacoma in order to get rid of her, but Marie, famous for her stalker tendencies, had followed him as soon as she found out where he was. Elena had tried to change her mind, but regardless of whatever she had said to Marie, she didn't manage to stop her. She and Marie had been staying at a motel in Tacoma for the past five days, and now she was finally back in town. I had called her immediately, telling her that I wanted to see her because we needed to talk. Since she wasn't good at getting clues she hadn't suspected a thing. Normally the words 'we need to talk' triggered all kind of red flags and sirens in a woman's head.

I had planned out my speech with the help of Elliott. I would tell her that I saw no future for us and since she was too good to be true, I was letting her go just so she could find someone she deserved.

And as soon as she started crying, I was going to give her a handkerchief before excusing myself since my best friend, Elliott, needed a hand with his new furniture – obviously a lie. It was a petty thing to do, but I liked the last part of my plan the most because it was kinda like serving her her own medicine. She had left me for her best friend in the middle of our kiss, and now I was leaving her for my best friend in the middle of a bad break-up.

"Can I bring you something?" The brown haired waitress asked me with a flirtatious smile. I could have sworn that her shirt's top buttons had been buttoned when I first entered the cafe only half an hour ago. I looked at her tits for a second because even though she was a brunette, she still had tits, before giving her a polite smile.

"I'm waiting for someone."

"Call me if you need anything." She breathed to me before walking away with swinging hips. Too bad she wasn't a blonde.

Minutes passed and Elena didn't show up. I was getting more pissed with every second and just when I thought 'fuck it. Let's go.', my phone ringed once, announcing a new text message.

Maria and I left for Portland.

See you tomorrow.

Elena :-* :-*

Oh for the love of god.

I had planned to be a good human being, I had actually felt sorry for breaking up with her. But with this text she had lost every right to be treated nicely. Dick move it is.

Don't bother.

We're done.

C.

"They broke up!"

"Hurray!"

Joyfully they clinked glasses full of the champagne I had bought specially for my sister, kinda like a peace offering, while I rolled my eyes with crossed arms. Mia and her roommate, Ana, had organized a party of twenty people in their small, rectangle flat with bad, pop music coming out of the speakers of their stereo and snacks placed on their dining table.

To say that my friends detested my sun kissed girlfriends was an understatement. Mia always liked to point out that we were intellectual human beings with a decent amount of general knowledge and a great sense of humor so it was hard to reach our standards and my bimbos never seemed to reach said standards. Look who was calling me a snob.

"Thanks for enjoying my misery." I mumbled into my drink, hoping for some pity since I was newly single. I was already fearing my empty and cold bed.

"Don't worry, big brother. You're not going to die alone." Mia said as she threw an arm around my shoulders – a difficulty since I was one and a half heads taller than her -, her spiky black hair tickling my chin.

"I hope not. I want one huge Golden Retriever at my side when I take my last breath." I joked, secretly scared of dogs but too proud to say it out loud.

A soft giggle took my attention and my head immediately snapped to the person it came from. Ana, her full name was Anastasia, was the roommate and newly found best friend of my sister. She was a quiet, young girl, a freshman who wanted to major in British Literature, the dull bookish type. Her heart shaped face was always flushed, her cheeks red like tasty apples after a long day under the sun, her blue eyes always looking like she was perplexed or astonished. She was the petite type, small curves, a B-cup of breasts always hiding underneath big shirts. I would have called her pretty or interesting if she hadn't been awkwardly shy and clumsy. Oh, and of course if she hadn't been a brunette.

Her sudden giggle at my words surprised me, to be honest. She barely talked to me usually. I thought I was intimidating her with... well, with what exactly? I had no idea.

I raised my eyebrows, waiting for an explanation of her since she had the decency to giggle at me. Her cheeks flushed again, the blood in her body seemed to be always ready to rush to her cheeks, and her eyes glistened behind the reading specs she was wearing.

"You would still have a blonde at your side. Golden's are blondes." She said shyly with a shrug, her hand immediately playing with her specs. I had noticed that she touched her glasses whenever she was nervous or felt shy.

Did the shy Anastasia Steele just made fun of me?

Somehow I managed to raise my brows even higher, her small, bold joke taking me by surprise. Mia and the others seemed equally surprised even though they were laughing at my expense. I couldn't move my eyes away from her, thinking that I must have misinterpreted her. Maybe she wasn't the shy wall flower she seemed to be, maybe she was more than the bookish librarian type who swooned over fancy dudes like Mr. Darcy or Heathcliff. Maybe I shouldn't judge the book by its cover.

I thought I was intimidating her again with my stare because she immediately turned her head to engage somebody else into a conversation, trying to make it look like I wasn't affecting her. The only thing giving her away was her hand at her specs, taking them off to wish the dust away with the help of her shirt. I followed her every move with my eyes while I turned toward Ethan, Mia's boyfriend, who was telling me about his newest classes. He was a bright kid who treated my sister right. Ana cleaned her specs with her shirt, making it raise up so I could see a small spot of the creamy skin of her tummy. It was enough to make me guess that she wasn't shaped like anything I was used to, no top model was hiding underneath that baggy shirt. It was infuriating me that her one joke had such an affect on me. With one joke she had managed to attract my interest in her, not sexually but personally.

I tried to concentrate on Ethan's words even though my mind was full of questions.

A few hours later I was drunk and tired but too lazy to go home. Elliott had already left with his girlfriend, Kate, while Ethan and Mia had excused themselves to her room. I tried not to concentrate on the fact that he was probably doing stuff to my sister that I would rather not know. Instead I had captured the one couch for myself and lay face down with my bottle of beer standing on the floor right beside me. I managed to raise my head a little whenever I took a sip. Someone had put on some soothing music, definitely better than anything that was from Kanye West or Taylor Swift. I was thankful to whoever had ended the pure torture in the form of pop songs.

I had closed my eyes when I suddenly felt someone throwing a blanket over me. Immediately I opened my eyes and saw Anastasia towering over me with her freakishly big, blue eyes staring at me in shock.

"I thought you were asleep." She said, again blushing like a schoolgirl.

"I was just dozing off." I answered her, still thankful for the blanket since I was planning to stay here for tonight. I would have slept without a blanket instead of asking Mia for one, the thought of catching her and Ethan in any situation that could traumatize me for the rest of my life was motivation enough to sleep sans blanket.

"The last guests have left. You can sleep here." Anastasia said, her blush still on her cheeks making me wonder if she was drunk since it didn't seem to go away. I tried to get a clearer view of her eyes and yes, her pupils were dilated. She was quite possible a little tipsy.

"Okay. Thanks for the blanket." I nodded at her before closing my eyes and turning on my side with the blanket up to my nose. It smelled of something fruity and feminine, nothing like Mia's stuff usually did. I guessed that Anastasia had given me one of her blankets.

I heard how she walked away, turned off the music and the lights before making her way to somewhere. When I heard how she opened the fridge, I knew she was in the small kitchen of their flat. She rummaged a few things around, a bottle popped open and a package was ripped. She took a plate from the cupboard, I heard how the plate was placed on the wooden counter, and soon their microwave was turned on. The smells of cheese, bread and bacon hit my nose, making my stomach grumble. I was too hungry to fall asleep now. She better have enough ingredients for the both of us.

"What are you making?" I asked her, making her yelp since her back was turned to me. She nearly let bottle of orange juice fall, being the clumsy thing that she was. I had seen her fall on her ass more than a nearly adult woman should. It was fun to watch, though.

"You scared me." She let out, her small hand on the left side of her chest where her heart beat underneath. I smiled apologetically at her, my eyes now fixated on the spinning plate in the microwave.

"I'm just warming up some bread, cheese and bacon." Anastasia explained to me, watching the timer with green, neon lighted digits. "I get hungry when I am drunk."

"Care to share?" I hoped she said yes, since I was too lazy to make me my own sandwich. And no, I was not thinking that women were only capable of doing sandwiches or that they belonged in the kitchen. I wasn't that kind of an ass.

"S-sure." She nodded before taking out a plate and a cup for me out of the cupboard, nearly hitting herself in the face with the wooden door. I nearly laughed out loud.

We ate our food in silence, only the sounds of our chewing could be heard, and I realized that this was the first time I spent time with her alone. We never had been alone before, somebody had always been with us which made it less awkward. Well, it made her less awkward and shy. I watched her pick of the crumbs of her plate on her pointed finger before bringing it to her lips, the tip of her finger disappeared in her mouth for a second.

Holy ravioli.

The way her lips closed around her own finger made me dizzy.

That was unexpected.

As if she had heard my thoughts, her head snapped up, her eyes, her freaking eyes, looking at me in shock. This time it was my turn to blush but unlike hers mine didn't last for long. I was used to blush causing situations.

Holy ravioli #2.

I imagined her in blush causing situations, wondering if she blushed all over her body, maybe even between her legs.

Shit.

What the hell was happening to me? Was I that desperate that I fantasized about my sister's lanky roommate, the person who stood for everything I found boring on brunettes?

I needed to get laid.

Soon.

"You want some more?" Anastasia asked me after she had gulped down her glass of orange juice – she had offered me some too, but I had declined since they hadn't the brand I favored. "I can make you another sandwich if you want."

"No, thanks. I'm full." The last thing I needed to do was to make the poor girl make me another sandwich. One dick move per day was enough and I had already used mine on Elena today. She hadn't even bothered to text me back. Her loss, my gain.

"No, let me." I told Anastasia as she started to pick up our plates and glasses – I had been drinking water -, taking them away from her. "You cooked, I clean up."

"That sounds fair." She nodded, standing awkwardly with crossed legs in the kitchen while I put our dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

"Would I bother you if I turned on the TV for a little while?" I asked her when we moved back to the living room where I took back my spot on their couch while she put away some of the leftover snacks.

"No, it's okay. It wouldn't bother me at all."

"You can join me if you want to." Why did I just say that? I was tired, I was planning on watching some mindless TV for a couple of minutes before passing out on the couch underneath the sweet smelling blanket. Alcohol really didn't make me make great decisions.

"Uhm." She mumbled, sounding out of breath, biting her lip and leaving teeth marks on the pink skin of her mouth. "Sure."

I tried not to concentrate on the fact how her lips looked.

Nearly ten days of no sex made me desperate.

I made room for her a little on the couch and under the blanket and we sit side by side with our feet on the coffee table. I flipped through a few channels, landing on a movie and deciding that it's probably the best we can find this late. We made a little small talk, like 'do you know this movie?' and 'no, I haven't seen it before', it sounded all very formal but I couldn't care less because my brain was already sleeping or at least seeking sleep.

Things became really awkward when the movie gods above punished us with an awful sex scene where everything looked sloppy and hasty.

I had to laugh when the tongues of the actors were visible for longer than it was actually necessary. Didn't people know how to kiss properly?

"God, this is awful." I mumbled with a shake of my head.

"Yes." Anastasia nodded, her eyes fixated on the TV. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye.

"That's not the proper way to have sex."

She didn't answer this time, her lips parting as she kept on watching the man and woman on screen doing the horizontal tango. The actress moaned loudly, sounding fake as if they were shooting a bad porn movie, making me wonder what Anastasia sounded like in bed.

Holy ravioli #3.

I thought I had agreed on keeping my mind away from the topics Anastasia and sex.

I was drunk, I had blue balls and I was desperate.

And Anastasia was a woman, a pretty woman nonetheless, even if she wasn't my type.

It was normal for a hot blooded man to think about a woman like that.

"That didn't last long." I tried to joke when the scene switched, hoping it would distract me of my own thoughts. She giggled nervously, nodding. Something felt off about her reactions, though. I guessed that she was too shy to talk about sex, but the poor feeling that there was more than that didn't leave me. I was a curious bastard and I needed to find out why she was silent when it came to sex.

"Nothing beats the real experience, right?" I sounded like a creep, asking too personal questions to a girl I barely knew, but great decision had never been made under the influence of alcohol.

"Sure." She nodded again, her eyes on the screen where cars were being exploded now. I guessed they changed the scene from one explosion to another.

Her answer – if you could call it that – was frustrating me.

Why was it so hard to get answers from her?

"The least they could do is to shoot a good kiss. It looked sloppy and nothing romantic at all." I tried to sound like a film critic, rather than a creep. "Where are the big moments like in Titanic or Pretty Woman?"

"This is just a B-movie, Christian, and no blockbuster." Finally. She was showing some attitude with the way she rolled her eyes.

"Well, they could at least try to make the kissing scenes better. How hard is it to kiss someone?"

"Some people haven't had the best kiss of their lives yet. You can't play something you don't know yourself."

"Some dude can play a wizard, but these people can't kiss?" I pointed to the TV with the remote.

She shrugged, back to being tight lipped again.

"And by the way, a good kiss doesn't have to be the best one of your life. It only has to look good on camera for them."

"I wouldn't know. I have never been kissed before." She blurted out suddenly like it was an easy thing to say, like we were talking about the local weather.

Holy ravioli #4.

"What?" I let out, surprising myself with my sudden outburst. She turned her head toward me with widen eyes and a shy smile on her never been kissed before lips.

"But you are twenty something years old, you are in college, you are beautiful." I kept on talking, my eyes on her virgin lips. Why wouldn't someone want to kiss them? She was a brunette, yes, but she was pretty in her own way and I would have guessed that somebody had at least once touched her lips. Maybe she didn't want to be kissed, though. Maybe she was an asexual or maybe she was waiting for her wedding night. I realized that I practically didn't know anything about this girl, we hadn't talked this much before and I never had bothered to think about her sex / kiss life.

"Thanks, I guess." Anastasia smiled again with a blush.

"And here I am talking about 'the real experience' and such. I'm such an ass." I felt humiliated. Dear god. This was torture.

"It's okay. You didn't mean any harm."

Dear god. No kiss meant no sex. This girl was a virgin. No man had touched her before, no man had seen her naked before – probably. I couldn't understand it, like I had said she was decent looking and I was sure that somebody must have fancied her somehow. For god's sake, she had been in High school. I was humping like a rabbit back then.

"How did you manage to wait this long? Tell me, please." My dumb mouth didn't stop asking questions, but I was really in shock. I had never met a virgin at college before.

She blushed again, biting her lips while shaking her head. I guessed she wouldn't answer me since it was a far too personal question, but she surprised me once again.

"I guess I am waiting for the right one." She shrugged as if she didn't care but I could see how tense her jaw was. This kissing business was important to her, understandably.

"The right person or the right kiss?" I asked curiously. Now that I had gotten something out of her, I wasn't going to give up – at least, that was what my drunken mind told me to do.

"Is there a difference?" Her head turned to me, questioning eyes staring at mine.

I snorted, a little arrogantly maybe.

"Of course. Just because the person is right doesn't mean that the kiss is going to be good or something."

"Oh." She looked crestfallen, as if I had just killed her puppy. I felt sorry for her naivety, she was too pure to be true, an untouched unicorn in the middle of horny stallions and dirty mares.

"I mean, if you have feelings for that person it still will feel good." I tried to encourage her. "But the good kisses will come with time, especially if both parts are inexperienced."

"Okay." She nodded, turning her head back to the TV while I kept on starring at her. I looked at her Roman nose, her naturally thin and neat eyebrows, her pink lips and her reddened cheeks under the light of the TV. She was young, inexperienced when it came to sex, and an empty book with pages to fill. Her life was just starting and one day she would understand how good sex could feel or how a great kiss could sweep her off her feet.

I could give her a great kiss.

The thought came out of nowhere but it didn't leave as fast as it came. No, it put its root into my head and started to grow like a tree, an apple tree with apples as red as her reddened cheeks. I was dumb enough to eat one of the metaphorical apples in my head, so the bloody thing was now in my guts, making something swirl in my stomach.

I had to be honest: the thought of teaching her to kiss was sexy as hell.

No man had touched her lips before, I would be the first.

Holy fuck.

"Let me kiss you." I said throatily, my eyes fixated on her lips. Her head snapped to me, her blue eyes widened, her lips parted.

"What?" She whispered in shock.

"Let me give you a first, great kiss."

Sanity had said bye a long time ago, leaving a lot of space for the hot image of kissing her and christening her lips. The macho in me was determined to give her one hell of a kiss, making her compare anybody else following my footsteps with me.

"Why?" She asked, turning fully toward me.

I had no idea why. Maybe I was just really craving a kiss and the whole teaching her how to kiss was a huge turn on and great for my ego. Maybe I was curious about the taste of her. Who knew why I wanted to do it. The fact that I wanted to do it was enough of a reason for me.

"To give you a good experience? To take away your anxiety when the right person comes? I don't know why." I shrugged with a swirl of something nameless in my guts, muting the TV. We didn't need some B-movies soundtrack in the background for our conversation.

"What happens after we kiss? What comes after that?" She breathed, perplexed still.

"Well, usually sex."

"What?" She shrieked again, lightly thank god because I really didn't want to wake up my sister. I didn't know what she would think of me kissing her best friend.

"I wasn't offering sex." I said quickly, not wanting her to think that I was taking advantage of this situation. "We won't have sex."

Her brows furrowed, her lips were pursed. It kinda looked like I had pissed her off. Oh dear. Had I just offended her?

"I mean, it's not like I don't want sex. I don't want to have sex with you. But not because I don't find you attractive. It would just... complicate things." Since when had I become such a nervous bastard? Was she the reason for my stupid ramble?

"So would a kiss." She countered with a raised eyebrow, now looking doubtful.

"We don't have to kiss. I was just offering you an experience, that's all. Nobody would have to find out."

"But we had bacon. Our mouths probably stink." Ana said with a disgusted looking face.

"We could brush our teeth if you lent me your toothbrush." I suggested, ready to do anything to get my chance with her lips.

"Lent you my toothbrush? Aren't you scared of germs and stuff?" She asked biting her lip timidly, probably thinking that my snobby ass must also be a germaphobe. I wasn't scared of germs and stuff.

"Ana, if we kiss we will be sharing more than that. I would give you the full experience, with tongue and all." I said with a cocky grin, feeling immensely self-assured while I watched her reaction to my words.

"Oh god." She moaned softly with widened eyes and reddened cheeks, crossing her legs. I thought I was turning her on. Holy shit. That was hot.

"As I said, we don't have to." I tried to sound nonchalant, but deep down I knew I wanted to kiss her badly now that we had talked about it.

She was silent for a few seconds, probably thinking about the pros and cons of a kiss. I saw only pros, but I was a horny asshole so of course, I only saw the positive site of the coin. Women could be more logical in these situations, I had a huge respect for that.

"Okay. Let's kiss."

"You're sure?"

Please be sure.

"Yes, I am sure."

Awkwardly we went to brush our teeth in their bathroom and Ana lent me her pink toothbrush like I had suggested. She giggled when I gave her brush a funny look, the color not manly or anything, but the thought of kissing her was motivation enough for me not to give a fuck about it.

"How will we do this?" She asked me when we left the bathroom, her hands at her specs again. I surprised her when I took them off her, placing them on the coffee table before sitting down on our spot on the couch. I patted the spot beside me.

"Your specs will only be in our way. Come, sit down."

Slowly she sank down on the cushions, turning her body toward my with one leg crossed underneath her. I mirrored her posture, reaching for her hands to hold them in mine own. Her skin felt soft and gentle, her fingers short but thin. I noticed that her fingernails weren't painted or manicured, they were short and clean.

"Do you trust me?"

She nodded quickly, looking eager and nervous. I hoped she appreciated this feeling because a first kiss was something special. The nervousness, the tingling tension and the fast heartbeat in your chest could only be experienced right before your first time – first kiss or first sleepover with somebody special. I had lost all of these nearly six years ago to a random girl just because I was desperate to make the experience, my hormones telling me to go for it.

Unlike me, Anastasia had waited to have these experiences – let's be real, the way she looked it was hard to believe that she hadn't caught the attention of anyone before – and I wondered why she was throwing one of them away with a stranger, which I was in a way. Were her hormones telling her to go for it, too? Was her drunken state clouding her mind? Or was she tired of being the virgin?

I hesitated for a second, feeling immensely dirty because I was lusting after her kiss as if she was any of the girls I had kissed before. The only virgin I had kissed was my first girlfriend and since I had been a virgin myself back then it didn't really count. But this girl in front of me was willing to give me her first kiss, maybe because she wanted to have the experience, maybe because she was horny, maybe, maybe, maybe.

Who knew what she was thinking? I could only trust her words and she had agreed to kiss me.

Maybe I should just enjoy it.

"I'm going to lean forward now and press my lips on yours. Okay?" I waited for another nod of her before I did what I had told her. Her breath quickened the closer I got to her, it swiped over my mouth, smelling like minty toothpaste and a bit of bacon. It didn't bother me at all, though.

Slowly I pressed my lips onto hers, her soft skin trembling under mine. Her flesh felt soft underneath mine, a warm breeze of hasty breath gently caressing my lips as her chest rose and fell. My skin prickled as soon as I touched her lips and little, buzzing shocks went through my body, my throat dry suddenly.

This was going to be one hell of a kiss, that much was clear.

I kissed her once, twice, and a third time, just to test her reaction. She didn't freak out, but she didn't move at all. I moved away a little, looking into her face to see if she looked disgusted or scared, but the only thing I saw were blissfully closed eyes and a relaxed face. I sure as hell felt relaxed myself, the silently booming anxiety of her first experience like an aphrodisiac for me.

"I'm going to kiss you again, but this time I'm going to take your bottom lip between mine and suck a little. Do the same with my upper lip, but remember to be gentle. You don't wanna suck a guy's lips off his face." I said with a low voice, suppressing the urge to throw her onto her back so I could crawl between her legs and kiss her the way I really wanted to right now. I had to remind myself to be patient and gentle.

"Okay." She said again, licking her lips before moving a bit closer to me. I closed my eyes as I pressed my lips against hers again, this time actually moving them a little, capturing her bottom lip between mine, sucking gently. My brain turned into a mushy mess, incapable of a logical thought and my dick took over control.

Do it. Fuck her against the couch. On her back, on her side, over you, on her knees. Anyway she is willing to let you fuck her.

Yeah. Not going to happen. I wasn't that kind of an ass.

She was a quick learner, her sucks on my lip never too much. We kissed slowly, there was no rush, just two people enjoying the touch of another, only the sound of our wet mouths and the quiet noises of the TV audible. Our noses kept hitting each other awkwardly, annoying me. My neck also hurt from leaning down. We needed to get more comfortable if this kiss was going to last longer, which was what I desired.

"Tilt your head a little to the left." I told her eagerly when I pulled away. "Now I am going to pull you into my lap. You can also move your hands if you want to."

"Into your lap?" She asked out of breath, pupils dilated and her skin once again rosy pink.

"For easier access." I explained to her, already reaching for her hips. She was a little thing, it was easy to turn us around so I was sitting with my back on the couch with her on my lap, her legs on the both sides of me. I tried not to pull her tightly against me because I feared that she would freak out when she felt the hard one I was sporting. My arms circled her hips, my fingers touching the skin that was exposed due to her risen shirt. Awkwardly she placed her own hands on my shoulders, but I didn't care as long as she was comfortable and willing.

"Lean forward."

She immediately did so, quickly hesitating at my lips but when I firmly pressed her hips, she finally put her lips on mine. It was bewitching how good she felt, how sensual she could be, her soft little moans giving her away. She was enjoying this as much as I was.

As I had told her, she tilted her head to the left, giving me a better access of her lips. I started sucking on her bottom lip, moving my hands up and down at her sides, my whole body feeling like it was on fire. I would watch the world burn if I could keep kissing her, to be honest.

After a while I changed our lips' position, giving her my bottom lip and capturing her upper lip myself. She sighed into my mouth, her hands slowly making their way to my neck, her fingers playing gently with the curls of my hair. Her own hair was put into a ponytail, I reached to open it because even though her hair was chocolate brown, it still was long – I liked girls with long hair. It surprised her, I noticed that because her lips stopped moving for a second, but she didn't stop our kiss.

She was an amateur, that was no secret, but she wasn't that bad. I quite enjoyed our kiss, to be honest.

"Now, the tongue." I said, as we let go to take some breaths. Her eyes widened, she bit her swollen lips, looking flustered.

"No need to be scared. It's quite easy. Just move your tongue in circles around mine, slowly. Take your time. If we get tired of it we can keep on kissing just as we did before, okay? Just go with the flow."

Ana gulped hardly before leaning forward again. Like the good student she was, she didn't forget to tilt her head. She was clearly deserving an A+.

Her lips were shaking a little as she opened them. I immediately started dancing around her tiny, pink tongue with mine, daring her to fight back. It took her a few tries but she managed it, as I said she was a quick learner. When we got tired of moving our tongues, we got back to sucking on each others lips, only letting go for quick breaths.

She hadn't freaked out when I pulled her tightly against me, her pants clothed center exactly above my dick, her B-cup breasts pressed against my chest. The urge to dry hump her was immense, but I tried to keep my hips still. The only things I had no control of were the way our lips moved desperately against each others and how my greedy hands moved to her ass, squeezing it as I pressed her down on my dick.

We kissed and then we kissed some more.

We didn't stop, we couldn't stop, it felt too good.

I didn't realize until the next night when I was lying in my own bed, sans her obviously, that we had kissed until the sun came up. I didn't realize that a lot of things had changed with the first kiss of Anastasia Steele.

The apple tree in my head was now a fully grown forest.

Is Melii insane for uploading another story?

Yes. Yes, she is.

But you love me that way ;)

xoxo