He could feel her heart beneath his hands. He moved his hands slowly lower still and she arched her back to help him and her lower leg came against his.
I have to snip there for next comes a word we don't easily slip into the newspaper. Wait, this is a blog.
He held her breasts in his hands. Oddly, he thought, the lower one might be larger. . . . One of her breasts now hung loosely in his hand near his face and he knew not how best to touch her.
I need a damned cigarette. The New Yorker deconstructs the sex scenes in 1996's The Apprentice, Libby's novel that takes place in a rural Japanese province at the turn of the 20th century. Diligently, the magazine writer compares his sanguinary style with that of other hardcore Republicans, including Erlichman, Safire, Buckley and O'Reilly.
Even runs his work past Nancy Sladek, the editor of Britain’s Literary Review, which holds an annual contest for bad sex writing in fiction.
The men of the Nixon White House had a term for political dirty tricks that had to do with rats. Looks like deer are more Libby's style.