Sex scenes in books. what the fuck am I reading?

[docus]

You've all read them. Gregor McSpy is out in Siberia trying to stop the rogue Soviet general from stealing the nazi superwaffen blueprints, you turn the page, and... Shit, it's a flashback of him and his girlfriend having sex on their honeymoon. Gregor fondled her tender breast as the symphony of their muffled gasps egressed into the starry night sky. Here comes the token sex scene.

Oh my god, he's having sex. I feel a much deeper connection to the main character now. The way he thrust that champagne bottle into her ass and shit. Yeah man, that passage was fucking deep. Like, woah man.

I never really understood why every "heroic" novel has to have that one sex passage in it. It feels kinds awkward to read (which means it was probably awkward for the author to write), doesn't really tell you that much about the characters, and has fuck all to do with the events of the main story. After the passage ends, it is never mentioned or referred to again, as if it never happened. It all feels very disconnected. The actual sex acts discussed aren't usually very graphic or otherwise interesting, because the publisher probably wouldn't approve.

Overall, I usually find them a bore to read. Not often does it happen that a novel contains a well executed and relevant sex scene.

[Satyr]

Maybe it's a way to make the maincharacter more human, so that the reader may identify more with him? Have to agree that it's mostly in vain though.

Or it could just be because sex sells. Like it or not, it does.

The weirdest I ever read was from 'The Tommyknockers' by Stephen King. One of the characters arrived in a hotel, and started handling herself with a big purple vibrator. It contributed nothing to the story and my only reaction was 'lolwut?'.

[1983]

Maybe McSpy get off on this sort or work.

Al

[Dionysus]

This is one sexy fucking piece of literature.

On Screen. Red-haired, green-eyed boy, white skin with a few freckles... kissing a thin brunette girl in slacks. Clothes and hair-do suggest existentialist bars of all the world cities. They are seated on low bed covered in white silk. The girl opens his pants with gentle fingers and pulls out his cock which is small and very hard. A drop of lubricant gleams at its tip like a pearl. She caresses the crown gently: "Strip, Johnny." He takes off
his clothes with swift sure movements and stands naked before her, his cock pulsing. She makes a motion for him to turn around and he pirouettes across the floor parodying a model, hand on hip. She takes off her shirt.

Her breasts are high and small with erect nipples. She slips off her underpants. Her pubic hairs are black and shiny. He sits down beside her and reaches for her breast. She stops his hands.

"Darling, I want to rim you," she whispers.

"No. Not now."

"Please, I want to."

"Well, all right. I'll go wash my ass."

"No, I'll wash it."

"Aw shucks now, it ain't dirty."

"Yes it is. Come on now, Johnny boy."

She leads him into the bathroom. "All right, get down." He gets down on his knees and leans forward, with his chin on the bath mat. "Allah," he says. He looks back and grins at her. She washes his ass with soap and hot water sticking her finger up it.

"Does that hurt?"

"Noooooooooo."

"Come along, baby." She leads the way into the bedroom. He lies down on his back and throws his legs back over his head, clasping elbows behind his knees. She kneel down and caress the backs of his thighs, his balls, running her fingers down the perennial divide. She push his cheeks apart, lean down and begin licking the anus, moving her head in a slow circle. She push at the sides of the asshole, licking deeper and deeper. He close his eyes and squirm. She lick up the perennial divide. His small, tight balls.... A great pearl stands out on the tip of his circumcised cock. Her mouth closes over the crown. She sucks rhythmically up and down, pausing on the up stroke and moving her head around
in a circle. Her hand plays gently with his balls, slide down and middle finger up his ass. As she suck down toward the root of his cock she tickle his prostate mockingly. He grin and fart. She is sucking his cock now in a frenzy. His body begins to contract, pulling up toward his chin. Each time the contraction is longer. "Wheeeeeeee!" the boy yell, every muscle tense, his whole body strain to empty through his cock. She drinks his jissom which fills her mouth in great hot spurts. He lets his feet Hop back onto the bed. He arches his back and yawns.

Mary is strapping on a rubber penis: "Steely Dan III from Yokohama," she says, caressing the shaft. Milk spurts across the room.

"Be sure that milk is pasteurized. Don't go giving me some kinda awful cow disease like anthrax or glanders or aftosa...."

"When I was a transvestite Liz in Chi used to work as an exterminator. Make advances to pretty boys for the thrill of being beaten as a man. Later I catch this one kid, overpower him with supersonic judo I learned from an old Lesbian Zen monk. I tie him up, strip off his clothes with a razor and fuck him with Steely Dan I. He is so relieved I don't castrate him literal he come all over my bedbug spray."

"What happen to Steely Dan II"

"He was torn in two by a bull dike. Most terrific vaginal grip I ever experienced. She could cave in a lead pipe. It was one of her parlor tricks."

"And Steely Dan II"

"Chewed to bits by a famished candiru in the Upper Baboonsasshole. And don't say 'Wheeeeeeee!' this time."

"Why not? It's real boyish."

"Barefoot boy, check thy bullheads with the madame."

He looks at the ceiling, hands behind his head, cock pulsing. "So what shall I do? Can't shit with that dingus
up me. I wonder is it possible to laugh and come at the same time? I recall, during the war, at the Jockey Club in Cairo, me and my asshole buddy, Lu, both gentlemen by act of Congress... nothing else could have done such a thing to either of us.... So we got laughing so hard we piss all over ourselves and the waiter say: 'You bloody hash-heads, get out of here!' I mean, if I can laugh the piss out of me I should be able to laugh out jissom. So tell me something real funny when I start coming. You can tell by certain premonitory quiverings of the prostate gland...."

She puts on a record, metallic cocaine be-bop. She greases the dingus, shoves the boy's legs over his head and works it up his ass with a series of corkscrew movements of her fluid hips. She moves in a slow circle, revolving on the axis of the shaft. She rubs her hard nipples across his chest. She kisses him on neck and chin and eyes. He runs his hands down her back to her buttocks, pulling her into his ass. She revolves faster, faster. His body jerks and writhes in convulsive spasms. "Hurry up, please," she says. "The milk is getting cold." He does not hear. She presses her mouth against his. Their faces run together. His sperm hits her breast with light, hot licks.

Mark is standing in the doorway. He wears a turtleneck black sweater. Cold, handsome, narcissistic face. Green eyes and black hair. He looks at Johnny with a slight sneer, his head on one side, hands on his jacket pockets, a graceful hoodlum ballet. He jerk his head and Johnny walk ahead of him into the bedroom. Mary follow. "All right, boys," she say, sitting down naked on a pink silk dais overlooking the bed. "Get with it!"

Mark begin to undress with fluid movements, hiprolls, squirm out of his turtle-neck sweater revealing his beautiful white torso in a mocking belly dance. Johnny deadpan, face frozen, breath quick, lips dry, remove his clothes and drop them on the floor. Mark lets his shorts fall on one foot. He kick like a chorus-girl, sending the shorts across the room. Now he stand naked, his cock stiff, straining up and out. He run slow eyes over Johnny's body. He smile and lick his lips.

Mark drop on one knee, pulling Johnny across his back by one arm. He stand up and throw him six feet onto the bed. Johnny land on his back and bounce. Mark jump up and grab Johnny's ankles, throw his legs over his head. Mark's lips are drawn back in a tight snarl. "All right, Johnny boy." He contracts his body, slow and steady as an oiled machine, push his cock up Johnny's ass. Johnny give a great sigh, squirming in ecstasy. Mark hitches his hands behind Johnny's shoulders, pulling him down onto his cock which is buried to the hilt in Johnny's ass. Great whistles through his
teeth. Johnny screams like a bird. Mark is rubbing his face against Johnny's, snarl gone, face innocent and boyish as his whole liquid being spurt into Johnny's quivering body.

A train roar through him whistle blowing... boat whistle, foghorn, sky rocket burst over oily lagoons...penny arcade open into a maze of dirty pictures...ceremonial cannon boom in the harbor... a scream shoots down a white hospital corridor... out along a wide dusty street between palm trees, whistles out across the desert like a bullet (vulture wings husk in the dry air), a thousand boys come at once in outhouses, bleak public school toilets, attics, basements,
treehouses, Ferris wheels, deserted houses, limestone caves, rowboats, garages, barns, rubbly windy city outskirts behind mud walls (smell of dried excrement)...black dust blowing over lean copper bodies... ragged pants dropped to cracked bleeding bare feet... (place where vultures fight over fish heads)... by jungle lagoons, vicious fish snap at white sperm floating on black water, sand flies bite the copper ass, howler monkies like wind in the trees (a land of great brown rivers where whole trees float, bright colored snakes in the branches, pensive lemurs watch the shore with sad eyes), a red plane traces arabesques in blue substance of sky, a rattlesnake strike, a cobra rear, spread, spit
white venom, pearl and opal chips fall in a slow silent rain through air clear as glycerine. Time jump like a broken typewriter, the boys are old men, young hips quivering and twitching in boy-spasms go slack and flabby, draped over an outhouse seat, a park bench, a stone wall in Spanish sunlight, a sagging furnished room bed (outside red brick slum in clear winter sunlight)... twitching and shivering in dirty underwear, probing for a vein in the junk-sick morning, in an Arab cafe muttering and slobbering -- the Arabs whisper "Medjoub" and edge away -- (a Medjoub is a special sort of religious Moslem lunatic... often epileptic among other disorders). "The Moslems must have blood and jissom.... See, see where Christ's blood streams in the spermament," howls the Medjoub.... He stand up screaming and black blood spurt solid from his last erection, a pale white statue standing there, as if he had stepped whole across the Great Fence, climbed it innocent and calm as a boy climb the fence to fish in the forbidden pond -- in a few seconds he catch a huge catfish -- The Old Man will rush out of a little black hut cursing, with a pitchfork and the boy run laughing across the Missouri field -- he find a beautiful pink arrowhead and snatch it up as he runs with a flowing swoop of young bone and muscle -- (his bones blend into the Beld, he lies dead by the wooden fence a shotgun by his side, blood on frozen red clap seeps into the winter stubble of Georgia).... The catfish billows out behind him.... He come to the fence and throw the catfish over into blood-streaked grass... the fish lies squirming and squawking -- vaults the fence. He snatch up the catfish and disappear up a flint-studded red clay road between oaks and persimmons dropping red-brown
leaves in a windy fall sunset, green and dripping in Summer dawn, black against a clear winter day... the Old Man scream curses after him... his teeth fly from his mouth and whistle over the boy's head, he strain forward, his neck-cords tight as steel hoops, black blood spurt in one solid piece over the fence and he fall a fleshless mummy by the fever grass. Thorns grow through his ribs, the windows break in his hut, dusty glass-slivers in black putty -- rats run over the floor and boys jack off in the dark musty bedroom on summer afternoons and eat the berries that grow from his body and bones, mouths smeared with purple-red juices....

The old junky has found a vein... blood blossoms in the dropper like a Chinese flower... he push home the heroin and the boy who jacked off fifty years ago shine immaculate through the ravaged flesh, fill the outhouse with the sweet nutty smell of young male lust....

How many years threaded on a needle of blood? Hands slack on lap he sit looking out at the winter dawn with the cancelled eyes of junk. The old queer squirm on a limestone bench in Chapultepec Park as Indian adolescents walk by, arms around each other's necks and ribs, straining his dying flesh to occupy young buttocks and thighs, tight balls and spurting cocks.

Mark and Johnny sit facing each other in a vibrating chair, Johnny impaled on Mark's cock.

"All set, Johnny?"

"Turn it on."

Mark flips the switch and the chair vibrate.... Mark tilt his head looking up at Johnny, his face remote, eyes cool and mocking on Johnny's face.... Johnny scream and whimper.... His face disintegrates as if melted from within.... Johnny scream like a mandrake, black out as his sperm spurt, slump against Mark's body an angel on the nod. Mark pat Johnny's shoulder absently....Room like gymnasium.... The floor is foam rubber, covered in white silk.... One wall is glass.... The rising sun fills the room with pink light. Johnny is led in, hands tied, between Mary and Mark. Johnny sees the gallows and sags with a great "Ohhhhhhhhhhh!" his chin pulling down towards his cock, his legs bending at the knees. Sperm spurts, arching almost vertical in front of his face. Mark and Mary are suddenly impatient and hot.... They push Johnny forward onto the gallows platform covered with moldy jockstraps and sweat shirts. Mark is adjusting the noose.

"Well, here you go." Mark starts to push Johnny off the platform.

Mary: "No, let me." She locks her hands behind Johnny's buttocks, puts her forehead against him, smiling into his eyes she moves back, pulling him off the platform into space.... His face swells with blood....Mark reaches up with one lithe movement and snaps Johnny's neck... sound like a stick broken in wet towels. A shudder runs down Johnny's body... one foot flutters like a trapped bird.... Mark has draped himself over a swing and mimics Johnny's twitches, closes his
eyes and sticks his tongue out.... Johnny's cock springs up and Mary guides it up her cunt, writhing against him in a fluid belly dance, groaning and shrieking with delight... sweat pours down her body, hair hangs over her face in wet strands. "Cut him down, Mark," she screams. Mark reaches over with a snap knife and cuts the rope, catching Johnny as he falls, easing him onto his back with Mary still impaled and writhing.... She bites away Johnny's lips and nose and sucks out his eyes with a pop.... She tears off great hunks of cheek....Now she lunches on his prick.... Mark walks over to her and she looks up from Johnny's half-eaten genitals, her face covered with blood, eyes phosphorescent....
Mark puts his foot on her shoulder and kicks her over on her back.... He leaps on her, fucking her insanely ...they roll from one end of the room to the other, pinwheel end-over-end and leap high in the air like great hooked fish.

"Let me hang you, Mark.... Let me hang you....Please, Mark, let me hang you!"

"Sure baby." He pulls her brutally to her feet and pins her hands behind her.

"No, Mark!! No! No! No," she screams, shitting and pissing in terror as he drags her to the platform. He leaves her tied on the platform in a pile of old used condoms, while he adjusts the rope across the room...and comes back carrying the noose on a silver tray. He jerks her to her feet and tightens the noose. He sticks his cock up her and waltzes around the platform and off into ~pace swinging in a great arc.... "Wheeeeee!" he screams, turning into Johnny. Her neck snaps. A great fluid wave undulates through her body. Johnny drops to the floor and stands poised and alert like a young animal.

He leaps about the room. With a scream of longing that shatters the glass wall he leaps out into space. Masturbating end-over-end, three thousand feet down, his sperm floating beside him, he screams all the way against the shattering blue of sky, the rising sun burning over his body like gasoline, down past great oaks and persimmons, swamp cypress and mahogany, to shatter in liquid relief in a ruined square paved with limestone. Weeds and vines grow between the stones,
and rusty iron bolts three feet thick penetrate the white stone, stain it shit-brown of rust.

Johnny dowses Mary with gasoline from an obscene Chimu jar of white jade.... He anoints his own body.... They embrace, fall to the floor and roll under a great magnifying glass set in the roof... burst into flame with a cry that shatters the glass wall, roll into space, fucking and screaming through the air, burst in blood and flames and soot on brown. rocks under a desert sun. Johnny leaps about the room in agony. With a scream that shatters the glass wall he stands spreadeagle to the rising sun, blood spurting out his cock...a white marble god, he plummets through epileptic explosions into the old Medjoub writhe in shit and rubbish by a mud wall under a sun that scar and grab the flesh into goose-pimples.... He is a boy sleeping against the mosque wall, ejaculates wet dreaming into a thousand cunts pink and smooth as sea shells, feeling the delight of prickly pubic hairs slide up his cock.

John and Mary in hotel room (music of East St. Louis Toodleoo). Warm spring wind blows faded pink curtains in through open window.... Frogs croak in vacant lots where corn grows and boys catch little green garter snakes under broken limestone stelae stained with shit and threaded with rusty barbed wire....

Neon -- chlorophyll green, purple, orange -- flashes on and off. )

Johnny extracts a candiru from Mary's cunt with his calipers.... He drops it into a bottle of mescal where it turns into a Maguey worm.... He gives her a douche of jungle bone-softener, her vaginal teeth flow out mixed with blood and cysts.... Her cunt shines fresh and sweet as spring grass.... Johnny licks Mary's cunt, slow at first, with rising excitement parts the lips and licks inside feeling the prickle of pubic hairs on his tumescent tongue.... Arms thrown back, breasts pointing straight up, Mary lies transfixed with neon nails....Johnny moves up her body, his cock with a shining round opal of lubricant at the open slit, slides through her pubic hairs and enters her cunt to the hilt, drawn in by a suction of hungry flesh.... His face swells with blood, green lights burst behind his eyes and he falls with a scenic railway through screaming girls....

[Shishananee]

There's a couple in R.R. Martin's books as well. In the tale of fire and ice series or whatever.

Back in high school when I'd read those damn thousands of pages novels.

[unstableasatable]

and james clavvels, a brilliant author, but it left me at a wtf.
may be authors trying to portain that they get loadsa sex and their fantasies. just to let you know, authors, it fools NO ONE

[Captain Falcon]

Originally Posted by Caesar

This is one sexy fucking piece of literature.

Wtf

Anyway, I agree. It is dumb and needlessly makes works of good literature less accessible to kids with careful parents (Trust me, I wanted to read The Godfather really bad and, while it was probably more than a sex scene(s) the unnecessary bits of it made it tough to read: I had to read the whole book, which is quite larger, at the library.

[Euda]

Women like sex scenes. Romance and Adventure books are just code for erotica. Fantasy, mystery, and historic fiction also cater to a 40-something audience.

[crazzyass]

Originally Posted by Satyr

Maybe it's a way to make the maincharacter more human, so that the reader may identify more with him? Have to agree that it's mostly in vain though.

Or it could just be because sex sells. Like it or not, it does.

The weirdest I ever read was from 'The Tommyknockers' by Stephen King. One of the characters arrived in a hotel, and started handling herself with a big purple vibrator. It contributed nothing to the story and my only reaction was 'lolwut?'.

King does that a lot.


Also: American Psycho. Jesus Fucking Christ.

[ComradeAsh]

Originally Posted by Caesar

This is one sexy fucking piece of literature.

[FON]

Originally Posted by Caesar

This is one sexy fucking piece of literature.

Damn you. Beat me to quote Naked Lunch....I was thinking of the exact same passage as well (the one with mark mary and johnny anyway) ....One of my favourites.

[Psych]

I agree 100%. The best books always imply that the characters had sex but you're never quite sure. Too bad not enough authors can figure that out.