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12th October 2012

Fifty Shades of Fallowfield continued…

The second part of Gwen Ellis’s 50 Shades of Grey parody

The only reason that I came to this stupid ChemSoc social was because I thought that he would be here. Now I’m stuck in 256, in my lab coat, with a randy 2nd year droning on about some silly module that I really don’t care about.

‘I’m doing Practical Chemistry at the moment,’ one of his chins wobbles as he speaks. ‘It’s terrific!’

I mumble a response and wish he’d go away.

‘I’m currently doing some experiments in column based protein extraction,’ he continues, before edging closer to me; a creepy smile on his face. ‘Perhaps you’d like to extract some protein from my column?’

I resist the urge to vomit, give him a withering look and head to the bar.

‘Two shots of tequila please,’ I say.

‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’

My inner goddess shrieks with excitement at hearing the familiar, velvety, smooth voice behind me. I turn around and come face to face with the sexy PhD student, blushing furiously as memories of our last encounter come flooding back.

‘Do you want to go somewhere quieter?’ he asks, the same sultry look glistening in his eye. Overcome with lust, I oblige immediately. We walk up the street and before I know it, he’s dragging me into the Ichiban Noodle Bar. I look up at him, puzzled. I’m more of a Krunchy Fried Chicken kind of girl.

‘It’s much more private in here and we can grab something to eat,’ he explains, placing his hand possessively on my lower back. At this point in time, however, I am hungry for one thing and one thing only.

In my overexcited state, I’m having trouble using the chopsticks when the noodles arrive. Aiming for my mouth, I poke myself in the cheek. A piece of broccoli falls to the floor.

Pretending nothing has happened, I stab a king prawn and enter it slowly into my mouth, letting the sweet and sour sauce run down my chin in what I hope is a seductive manner.

‘What are you doing?’ he says, shooting me a quizzical look. But with my hand resting on his crotch under the table I continue; plonking another prawn into the dipping sauce and letting my tongue gently fellate the shellfish.

A visible bulge appears in his chinos.

He knows where we’re going with this now. My excitement growing, he picks up a spring roll and bites into it ferociously. Bits of carrot and pork cascade from his mouth. A piece of onion rests suggestively on his stubble. A young Korean family at the next table look concerned.

Then without warning, he’s stood behind me. He takes my hand in his and begins to feed me with the chopsticks, kissing my neck the whole time. I feel his free hand move slowly across my shoulder and sliding beneath my lab coat into my blouse and then my bra. He gently caresses my breasts and I gasp with pleasure. The mother in the Korean family next to us places her hands over her son’s eyes.

‘Let’s go back to mine,’ he whispers in my ear, dragging me out of the door before I have even had the chance to agree.

As we wait at the bus stop, the tension becomes too much. Suddenly I’m pinned up against the timetable and we’re kissing passionately, his hands running through my hair, mine pulling at his. Even the slight smell of urine can’t weaken my desire.

The 142 arrives too quickly and we’re both out of breath, panting. He tells me that I won’t have to wait too long before he is inside me. My bean begins to pulsate in anticipation.

He leads me up the stairs and to the very back of the bus. Luckily we have the top floor to ourselves and my stomach begins to flutter as his lips lock on mine, aggressive, powerful and commanding.

Our kisses are violent and I decide to clamber on top of him. This time I am the one in control, holding him prisoner. I inhale sharply as he slowly slips his hand beneath my skirt and slides his skilled hand up my thigh, teasing me.

I feel his rock hard love truncheon pressing against me and all of a sudden I’m undoing his zip. I begin to run my hand up and down his glory. Eager to return the favour, he slides his fingers between the thin material of my knickers and my soaking snapper is all ready for him. With every jerk and jolt of the bus I come closer and closer to tipping over the edge.

By the time we’ve reached the Ram and Shackle, I feel as if I’m about to implode; that’s when he suddenly stops. Flushed and panicky, I untangle myself from him.

He looks deep into my eyes. I quiver with anticipation, sure that he’s about to come out with another incredible suggestion.

‘This is where we get off, baby,’ he grins.

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