Dirty writing or literature?
Part of the extract from The Infinities by John Banville that was shortlisted for the 2009 Bad Sex Award for writers:
"Alba has stepped out of her dress in one flowing, stylised movement, like a torero, the object of all eyes, trailing his cape in the dust before the baffled bull; underneath, she is naked. She looks to the side, downwards; her eyelids are so shinily pale and fine that Adam can see clearly all the tiny veins in them, blue as lapis. He takes a floating step forward until his chest is barely touching the tips of her nipples, behind which he senses all the gravid tremulousness of her breasts. She puts her hands flat against his chest and leans into him in a simulacrum of a swoon, making a mewling sound. Her hips are goosefleshed and he can feel all the tiny hairs erect on her forearms. When he kisses her hot, soft mouth, which is bruised a little at one corner, he knows at once that she has been with another man, and recently -- faint as it is there is no mistaking that tang of fish-slime and sawdust -- for he has no doubt that this is the mouth of a busy working girl. He does not mind." (Picador Books)