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bibliocyclist 's review for:
Fanny Hill, or Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure
by John Cleland
Purple prose from the mid-eighteenth century:
"Lifted then to the utmost pitch of joy that human life can bear, undestroyed by excess, I touched that sweetly critical point, when, scarce prevented by the spermatic injection from my partner spurting liquid fire up to my vitals, I dissolved, and breaking out into a deep drawn sigh, sent my whole sensitive soul down to that passage where escape was denied it, by its being so deliciously plugged and choked up."
"Oh Sir! - Good Sir! - pray do not spare me! ah! ah! - I can no more."
"Lifted then to the utmost pitch of joy that human life can bear, undestroyed by excess, I touched that sweetly critical point, when, scarce prevented by the spermatic injection from my partner spurting liquid fire up to my vitals, I dissolved, and breaking out into a deep drawn sigh, sent my whole sensitive soul down to that passage where escape was denied it, by its being so deliciously plugged and choked up."
"Oh Sir! - Good Sir! - pray do not spare me! ah! ah! - I can no more."