I feel for the old birds having a sneaky peek at the Shades novels. I really do. Everybody deserves a bit of harmless titillation now and then, yeah? More power to 'em.

Oh, they cast him all wrong in the movie. The REAL Christian Grey is the spitting image of that nice waiter who remembers your name, but without that horrid little tattoo. Y'know, he definitely likes you more than the other ladies from sunday brunch. So go on! Lock that door, light those candles! Draw that bath and throw on the Kenny G- at a reasonable volume, of course, let's not go crazy here- and diddle yourselves with abandon, ladies. You've earned it.

And don't worry, Jesus will forgive you.

I'm just taking the piss, of course. It's definitely not just a repressed housewife thing. My first exposure to the series was through my ex, and she was like 20 at the time. Anyway, it was the first thing even approaching porn that she ever liked- or, at least, admitted to- and it strikes me as a crying shame. There's a tremendous amount of quality erotica out there, but Fifty Shades of Grey is not among them. It's not even hard to find the good stuff; there are lots of places to find recommendations. Best-of lists and whatnot. Hell, one of my regulars at the library (quietly) asked me for erotica suggestions once and I was happy to (discretely) help. So by all means, embrace that fluttery feeling you got from "the good parts" of the books, but c'mon... you can do better.