Our own Chelsea Summers (Or “Chelsea Girl” as she used to style herself at her Pretty Dumb Things blog) has written an eye-opening article at Filthy Gorgeous Things about some smutty letters penned by James Joyce, he of the notoriously impenetrable fiction so-often inflicted on young and bewildered students of English literature. His lustful missives have the virtue of being in plainer and more functional language than we usually expect from Joyce:

My love for you allows me to pray to the spirit of eternal beauty and tenderness mirrored in your eyes or to fling you down under me on that soft belly of yours and fuck you up behind, like a hog riding a sow, glorying in the very stink and sweat that rises from your arse, glorying in the open shame of your upturned dress and white girlish drawers.

…

It was the dirtiest fucking I ever gave you, darling. My prick was stuck up in you for hours, fucking in and out under your upturned rump. I felt your fat sweaty buttocks under my belly and say your flushed face and mad eyes. At every fuck I gave you your shameless tongue came bursting out through your lips and if I gave you a bigger stronger fuck than usual fat dirty farts came spluttering out of your backside. You had an arse full of farts that night, darling, and I fucked them out of you, big fat fellows, long windy ones, quick little merry cracks and a lot of tiny little naughty farties ending in a long gush from your hole.

I won’t spoil more of Chelsea’s article. You’ll just have to read it.