'50 Shades of Grey' Isn't 'Mommy Porn' (But THIS Is!)

I don't really understand why Fifty Shades of Grey is known as "mommy porn." I mean, we don't call adult content that men enjoy "daddy porn," right? (Ew.) So why is this particular book labeled as being for mommies, when it's erotica, plain and simple?

Setting aside the worrying question of whether the term "mommy porn" is meant to degrade women's sexuality by diminishing our valid, normal, and non-mommyish erotic needs, I've decided that given the runaway bestseller response to this book, what the world needs now is some REAL mommy porn.

After all, if it's sold this well without technically even OFFERING any content that's specifically aimed at mothers, I think a Fifty Shades for Moms will be a guaranteed hit!

Please enjoy some of the steamiest scenes from my first 3 chapters:



Christian glares down at me, his gray eyes blazing. "Don't pick up the vacuum," he murmurs. "Don't even touch the handle."
I suppress a moan. He moves suddenly so that his arm holds me firmly in place around my waist. I gasp.
His breath is hot and aggressive in my ear. "I'm ... going to hire a cleaning service."
Holy crap. My inner goddess is doing the dance of the seven veils and throwing 409 bottles everywhere.
"I'm going to pay for every inch of this house to be cleaned so that you never have to lift a finger."
I fall over the edge, spiraling into delicious darkness, calling his name over and over.

More from The Stir: '50 Shades of Grey’ Could Turn Moms Into Sex Kittens


With one fluid movement, he sweeps all the soiled clothing off the table so it scatters onto the floor, shirts and toddler-sized underwear everywhere.
"What do you think you're doing," he growls.
"L-l-laundry?" I stutter. Oh my.
"Not while I'm around," he hisses, and he turns to the washer and dryer. I am all sensation and heat, watching him—watching him as he sorts colors and whites, adds just the right amount of detergent ... moving faster, harder, until my legs stiffen and my insides quiver.
"Say it," Christian whispers, the fervent need in his voice—the strain—sending me over the edge. Oh my sexy Fifty Shades.
"I'm—I'm to sit down, and, oh!"
"Say it!"
"And enjoy a magazine!" I gasp out, before I shatter into a million burning pieces.


"Don't bite your lip," he says, capturing me in his smoldering gaze. "You know what that does to me."
Oh, wow.
"Yes," I breathe.
"Good girl," he pauses as he stares at me. "Now. You remember the Rules, don't you?" He pushes a typed piece of paper toward me.

RULES The Submissive will obey any instructions to sleep in, take a nap, run a hot bath, or enjoy some alone time without hesitation or reservation and in an expeditious manner.

Holy shit. My inner goddess finds a box of Calgon and a pint of Ben & Jerry's.
His eyes narrow a fraction and he grins. "So let me take the kids, and you go do whatever you want. Got that?"
"Yes Sir," I murmur, my cheeks burning, before I turn and scurry to the helipad.

That's all I've got for now, but I think it's pretty hot stuff, don't you? Chapter 4 will involve Christian emptying the dishwasher and putting away his socks, so stay tuned!

Seriously, why do YOU think Fifty Shades of Grey has become inescapably known as "mommy porn"?

Image via Flickr/artrca1000

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