At this, Eliza and Ezra rolled together into the one giggling snowball of full-figured copulation, screaming and shouting as they playfully bit and pulled at each other in a dangerous and clamorous rollercoaster coil of sexually violent rotation with Eliza's breasts barrel-rolled across Ezra's howling mouth and the pained frenzy of his bulbous salutation extenuating his excitement as it whacked and smacked its way into every muscle of Eliza's body except for the otherwise central zone. Both fell awkwardly off the bed, each tending to their own anguish yet still laughing an impaired discomfort of giggles whilst curving into a hunched disadvantage.
When describing sex, Brinkley says, authors feel moved to put a strain on language they wouldn't ordinarily. "Writers try to make their sex scenes the most wonderful, the most orgasmic, the most fulfilling that they can be," he says. "Or you'll find an overreliance on language, so authors will use mixed metaphor or very odd similes to try to make the scene seem inventive and new."Eliza's breasts barrel-rolled across Ezra's howling mouth and the pained frenzy of his bulbous salutation.
Then, at some point, you realize the anatomical impossibility of what's going on. "You can be carried away with the excitement of that, but then think, Actually, how long are this guy's arms?" Brinkley says. "How can he reach that far?"The walkway to the terminal was all carpet, no oxygen. Dilly bundled Finn into the first restroom on offer, locked the cubicle door and pulled at his leather belt. "You're beautiful," she told him, going down on to her haunches and unzipping him. He watched her passport rise gradually out of the back pocket of her jeans in time with the rhythmic bobbing of her buttocks as she sucked him. He arched over her back and took hold of the passport before it landed on the pimpled floor. Despite the immediate circumstances, human nature obliged him to take a look at her passport photo.
The first author to claim the prestigious prize was Melvyn Bragg, whose selection included the following description: "Eyes closed, fingers inside you, reaching into the melting fluid rubbered silk—a relief map of mysteries—the eager clitoris, reeking of you, our tongues imitating the fingers, your hands gripping and stroking me but also careful not to excite too much." Since then, the list of writers considered for the award has encompassed a wide swath of genres and levels of critical acclaim: Tom Wolfe, Norman Mailer, and Manil Suri have won the award, as have lesser known authors, like Wendy Perriam, whose passage from Speak Softly won her the 2002 prize by virtue of its fixation on the eroticism of pin-stripes: "Weirdly, he was clad in pin-stripes at the same time as being naked. Pin-stripes were erotic, the uniform of fathers, two-dimensional fathers. Even Mr. Hughes's penis had a seductive pin-striped foreskin."Even Mr. Hughes's penis had a seductive pin-striped foreskin.
This year The Erotic Review, another U.K. literary review magazine, said they would start a good sex award, an initiative that various reviews and critics propose every few years. "We have laughed enough," Lisa Moylett, the publisher of The Erotic Review, told The Times in October. "We are throwing down the gauntlet. No more 'bad sex' writing. That is not something we should be celebrating."But Brinkley doesn't see the appeal of awarding good sex writing. "My feeling about a good sex award is that it would be a little bit like a 'good description of sunsets' award, a 'good opening chapter' award," he says. "You hope any novel published has that, and actually pointing it out seems a bit strange. There are so many books where passages of sex are good. It's not that the sex described is wonderful or athletic or satisfying to everyone involved; it's because the writing is good. The bad sex award is bad writing rather than bad copulation."