She smiles at him, a little stiffly, a little uncertain. There they stood in front of the mirror (they always stood in front of the mirror while she undressed), watching themselves.
She stripped to her underwear, but still had the hat on her head.
Elias removed her underwear, and kissing her just above her pubic bone, he slipped two fingers inside her. He has wrapped her in an enormous towel, soft as a robe, and carried her to the bed. Sheila Heti Sheila Heti boldly tackles a complicated aspect of sexual desirethe desire to be degraded.
Sharon moved into his hands until he stopped suddenly, removing his fingers as if hed thought better of the whole thing. Or worse and now she thought of Midnight Cowboy, shed been so scandalized by that film was he expecting her to pay him? Instead, he removed a joint from the wallet, took a lighter from his front pocket, lit it up, leaned over the bed, and passed it to Sharon, who took a deep drag. They lie across it diagonally, and he begins to draw the towel apart with care, to remove it as if it were a bandage. Whether or not you share the narrators yearning to be completely subsumed in her partner, to be used up, to be possessedthe intimacy of Hetis narration is powerful and unique and hers.He told me about how, over the past year, he had thought about me often.
Ferdinand has gone fencing, she said conversationally; her eyes rested on the lower part of my face as if she were lip reading, and after a moment of reflection (her amatory comprehension was matchless), she turned and rapidly swaying on slender ankles led me along the sea-blue carpeted passage. You can shit arpeggios if you like, or string a zither across your navel.
A chair at the door of her room supported a tray with the remains of breakfasta honey-stained knife, crumbs on the gray porcelain; but the room had already been done, and because of our sudden draft a wave of muslin embroidered with white dahlias got sucked in, with a shudder and a knock, between the responsive halves of the French window, and only when the door had been locked did they let go of that curtain with something like a blissful sigh; and a little later I stepped out on the diminutive cast-iron balcony beyond to inhale a combined smell of dry maple leaves and gasoline Henry Miller However you feel about Henry Miller, the raw, raunchy bravado of his writing style was once considered so dirty that Tropic of Cancer was banned in the United States for years after its publication. After me you can take on stallions, bulls, rams, drakes, St. I am fucking you, Tania, so that you'll stay fucked.
got a great reminder of all the hot, hot sex in the movies. All of these excerpts are from books that are considered literary, and theyre all so steamy theyll make you want to undo a button or two.1. We were a strange statue, the two of us, before we began to unlock our hunger. I would kneel while she looked down on my quizzical as if I were a planetary stranger. Her cool hand suddenly against my neck on a Cairo bus.
I also have a soft spot for this book because the movie adaptation was my first R-rated film.On Hassanein Beys lawnthe grand old man of the 1923 expeditionshe walked over with the government aid Roundell and shook my hand, asked him to get her a drink, turned back to me and said, I want you to ravish me. Roundell returned. I sank to my knees in the mosaic-tiled hall, my face in the curtain of her gown, the salt taste of these fingers in her mouth. They kiss in between switching, and their hands move all over, into inner thigh, rounded curve of the ass, sweaty necks. They look up come with us, come join us, they say, but I'm over here, I say, for today and they are at once disappointed and also we all know the rhythm has been set as is. Men love to watch two women kiss, but how I love to watch two men. The amazing space created for me when there is nothing demanded or seen. Michael Ondaatjie This excerpt from Ondaatjies Booker prize-winning novel set at the end of World War II is sexy and romantic. In that room over the souk, north of the street of parrots. When they're kissing again, I could stare for hours.Her fingers scratching agains the sand in my thinning hair. There was that small indentation at her throat we called the Bosphorus. Taking a closed taxi and our quick-hand love between the Khedive Ismail Bridge and the Tipperary Club.Or the sun through her fingernails on the third-floor lobby at the museum when her hand covered my face. And another year or two later, I was in Paris on business; and one morning on the landing of a hotel, where I had been looking up a film actor fellow, there she was again, clad in a gray tailored suit, waiting for the elevator to take her down, a key dangling from her fingers.After Elias had entered her and after she wrapped herself around him as hed made love to her, allowed herself in that single moment to be carried, Sharon stood, zipped up her slacks, slipped on her blouse, and said to Elias that since he didnt have a house to go to, he could have the room, she was going home. He told me, I thought about taking those flower from your desk, just stuffing them in your mouth, and behind you over the desk and fucking you.I dont know why all of you just sit in libraries when you could be getting fucked by Israel.