david lodge - small world, (penguin books 1985, S. 95):

philip (...) found the warmth of hilary's body irresistible. He snuggled up to it spoonwise, curving himself around the soft cushion of her buttocks, passing his arm round her waist and cuping one heavy breast in his hand. unable to sleep, he became sexually exited, lifted hilary's nightdress and began to caress her belly and crotch. She seemed moist and compilant, though he was not sure if she was fully awake. he entered her slowly, from behind, holding his breath like a thief, in case she should suddenly come to her senses and push him away. (...) hilary is, in fact, fully awake, though her eyes are closed. Philip's eyes are also shut. he is thinking of Joy, a purple-lit bedroom on a warm italian night. she is thinking of morris zapp in this same bed, in this same room, curtains drawn against the afternoon sun, ten years ago. (...) there is a grunt, a sigh, then silence. philip falls asleep. hilary opens her eyes. neither has seen the other's face. no word has passed between them.


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