“Hoyt began moving his lips as if he were trying to suck the ice cream off the top of a cone without using his teeth … Slither slither slither slither went the tongue, but the hand that was what she tried to concentrate on, the hand, since it has the entire terrain of her torso to explore and not just the otorhinolaryngological caverns – oh, God, it was not just at the border where the flesh of the breast joins the pectoral sheath of the chest – no, the hand was cupping her entire right – Now!” – the winning entry in this year’s “Bad Sex” writing award, given by London’s Literary Review. It’s Tom Wolfe, from his new novel.
JEFF VERSUS JUAN: It’s a beaut.
The Dish 