אורגזמה ספרותית

הנה תיאור שקראתי כנערת תיכון בספר "דברים שצריך" של סטיבן קינג. לא בדיוק מקור האירוטיקה האולטימטיבי, נכון? אבל זה קטע שלא שכחתי. מצאתי אותו באנגלית ברשת.
לקחתי אותו מהאתר

The pain which had nagged her all night-and the attendant fear
that Alan would tumble to just how bad it was-was suddenly buried under
a wave of desire so hard and unexpected that it did more than startle
her; it frightened her. And desire was a little too coy, wasn't it?
What she felt was simpler, an emotion whose hue was utterly
primary.
It was lust.
"You move like a damned cat," she said as he straightened. Her
voice was thick, a little slurred. She kept seeing the graceful way
his legs had bent, the flex of the long muscles in his thighs. The
smooth curve of one calf. "How does a man as big as you move that
fast?"
"I don't know," he said, and looked at her with surprise and
puzzlement. "What's wrong, Polly? You look funny. Do you feel
faint?"
"I feel," she said, "like I'm going to come in my pants."
It came to him, too, then. Just like that. There was no wrong
about it, no right. It just was. "Let's see if you are," he said, and
moved forward with that same grace, that weird speed you would never
suspect if you saw him ambling down Main Street. "Let's just see about


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that." He set the glass on the counter with his left hand and slipped
his right between her legs before she knew what was happening.
"Alan what are you do-" And then, as his thumb pressed with gentle
force against her clitoris, doing turned to do-ooooh!-ing and he lifted
her with his easy, amazing strength.
She put her arms around his neck, being careful even at this warm
moment to hold with her forearms; her hands stuck off behind him like
stiff bundles of sticks, but they were suddenly the only parts of her
which were stiff. The rest of her seemed to be melting.
"Alan, put me down!"
"I don't think so," he said, and lifted her higher. He slid his
free hand between her shoulder-blades as she started to slip and
pressed her forward. And suddenly she was rocking back and forth on
the hand between her legs like a girl on a hobby-horse, and he was
helping her rock, and she felt as if she were in some wonderful swing
with her feet in the wind and her hair in the stars.
"Alan-" "Hold tight, pretty lady," he said, and he was laughing,
as if she weighed no more than a bag of feathers. She leaned back,
almost unaware of his steadying hand in her growing excitement, only
knowing he would not let her fall, and then he brought her forward
again, and one hand was rubbing her back, and the thumb of his other
hand was doing things to her down there, things she had never even
considered, and she rocked back again, calling his name out
deliriously.
Her orgasm hit like a sweet exploding bullet, rushing both ways
from the center of her. Her legs swung back and forth six inches above
the kitchen floor (one of her loafers flew off and sailed all the way
into the living room), her head fell back so her dark hair trailed over
his forearm in a small tickling torrent, and at the height of her
pleasure he kissed the sweet white line of her throat.
He set her down ... then reached out quickly to steady her as her
knees buckled.
"Oh my God," she said, beginning to laugh weakly. "Oh my God,
Alan, I'll never wash these jeans again."
That struck him as hilarious, and he bellowed laughter. He
collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs with his legs stuck out
straight in front of him and howled, holding his stomach. She took a
step toward him. He grasped her, pulled her onto his lap for a moment,
and then stood with her in his arms.
She felt that fainting wave of emotion and need sweep her again,
but it was clearer now, better defined. Now, she thought, now it is
desire. I desire this man so much.
"Take me upstairs," she said. "If you can't make it that far,
take me to the couch. And if you can't make it to the couch, do me
right here on the kitchen floor."
"I think I can make it at least as far as the living room," he
said.
"How are your hands, pretty lady?"
"What hands?" she asked dreamily, and closed her eyes. She
concentrated on the clear joy of this moment, moving through space and
time in his arms, moving in darkness and circled by his strength.
She pressed her face against his chest, and when he put her on the
couch she pulled him down ... and this time she used her hands to do it.