Bad Sex

The Guardian posts the short-list for the worst literary sex scenes of the year. Here’s an excerpt from FAN-TAN by Marlon Brando and Donald Cammell:

In a moment Annie was
on his side, Madame Lai was like a plant growing over him, and her
little fist (holding the biggest black pearl) was up his asshole
planting the pearl in the most appreciated place.
"Oh, Lord," he cried out. "I’m a-comin’!"

She could not answer. It is the one drawback of fellatio as conscientious
as hers that it eliminates the chance for small talk and poetry alike.
But nothing is exactly perfect in this life, and for Annie Doultry the
delicate but firm pressure on his rear parts was in perfect harmony
with the eruption of his cock. He came and he came – we are dealing
with a hero here. At one point his lover backed away to inspect the
unaltered gush of it, like a plumber saying to a customer, "Don’t blame
me. This water supply will stop when the dam’s empty."

Here’s an excerpt from BLINDING LIGHT by Paul Theroux:

She pushed him backward
onto the seat and pressed her face down, lapping his cock into her
mouth, curling her tongue around it, and the suddenness of it, the
snaking of her tongue, the pressure of her lips, the hot grip of her
mouth, triggered his orgasm, which was not juice at all but a demon eel
thrashing in his loins and swimming swiftly up his cock, one whole
creature of live slime fighting the stiffness as it rose and bulged at
the tip and darted into her mouth.

Here’s an excerpt from VILLAGES by John Updike:

A flock of crows, six or
eight, raucously rasping at one another, thrashed into the top of an
oak on the edge of the square of sky. The heavenly invasion made his
heart race; he looked down at his prick, silently begging it not to be
distracted; his mind fought skidding into crows and woods, babies and
Phyllis, and his prick stared back at him with its one eye clouded by a
single drop of pure seminal yearning. He felt suspended at the top of
an arc. Faye leaned back on the blanket, arranging her legs in an M of
receptivity, and he knelt between them like the most abject and craven
supplicant who ever exposed his bare ass to the eagle eyes of a bunch
of crows.