Fifty Shades of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

red towel. The sexual mood had not deserted him. His eyes grazed her voraciously.
    â€œMay I?” he asked.
    Not knowing what she was acquiescing to, Rosemary nodded. Thinking about Helen had upset her, and she was no longer feeling very sensual. But that changed when Dorian came over to the bed. All he had to do was nudge her hip gently—motioning her to scoot to one side—and a bolt of lust fluttered between her legs. Dorian drew the rumpled covers down and spread the towel flatly on the mattress.
    Rosemary’s heart thudded in anticipation. This is it , she thought. This is what you’ve been waiting for! How foolish of you to think you could repress the desire into obsoleteness! You need him, and maybe he needs you, too . Oh! To be needed by Dorian would be Paradise!
    Dorian took her hands and kissed them worshipfully. A lock of golden hair fell over his eye and feeling exquisitely liberated, she brushed it away. He looked at her with a spellbinding intensity. Gone was the lighthearted gaiety of the Dorian she’d painted.
    â€œLie down,” he instructed. She obeyed, and he began undressing her. Oh, if only she were wearing a more appropriate outfit.
    â€œYou’re trembling,” he said.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she replied without thinking. She wanted to apologize for everything—she felt so fragile and ready to be devoured.
    â€œYou’re frightened,” he said.
    â€œNo, not all!” she cried. “No, I’m just—I don’t really know how this goes. I know there will be pain.”
    â€œThere will be, at first,” he said, expertly undoing the strings of her corset. “Then there will be great pleasure.”
    She felt the perfect roundness of her breasts as they were freed from her chemise. Dorian grazed them lightly with his fingertips.
    â€œYou are superb, Rosemary.”
    He moved his hands down to her waist and slowly slid her knickers down. Her vagina was fully exposed, moistening under his marveling gaze. He looked at her as if she were a work of genius art.
    â€œI am going to kiss every part of your body, Rosemary,” he said quietly. “Would you like that?”
    â€œYes!” she gasped, surprised at how shrill her voice sounded.
    â€œGood,” he said. “Where would you like me to kiss you first?”
    Rosemary bit her lower lip and blushed.
    â€œ Mmm ,” he said. “You want me to kiss you there.” He leaned his face close to hers, and tilted her chin up.
    â€œHave you ever been kissed by a man?” he asked.
    She hesitated, then shook her head. Before she could feel any shame, he kissed her tenderly on the mouth. His lips were warm and soft. He took his time, until by her own will, she opened her mouth slightly. She felt his tongue slide along the inner parts of her lips then find hers and rouse it into a gentle play. She was kissing him back with passion. This is it , she thought, this is kissing ! With each locking and unlocking of their tongues, Rosemary felt the craving between her thighs intensify.
    He broke away from the kiss and moved on to her neck, first kissing then suckling with a most pleasing thirst. One hand held the back of her head while the other rubbed her breast. A moan escaped her lips when his hand went lower, down the length of her abdomen, and stopped a mere inch above her vagina. It ached for his touch.
    â€œThere,” she said. “Please touch me there.”
    â€œBe patient,” said Dorian, muffled in kisses. With diligence and skill, he kissed along her breasts, pausing to suck a nipple. Rosemary shuddered in ecstasy, moaning louder. He drew his tongue the length of her stomach. When he curled his tongue along her navel, she squealed with delight. Would he kiss her there? Yes. Ah! She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. He was kissing her there.
    Was ever there such an exquisite sensation? His tongue at first skimmed the folds of flesh, then delved