Миша, а ты в курсе что Джеймс Джойс ("ирландский Андрей Белый", а Белый "русский Джеймс Джойс", хе-хе) угорал по копрофагии и писал угарнейшие письма своей жене, потрясающие:

https://toleratedindividuality.files.wordpress.com/2015/02/letters-to-nora-december-1909-by-james-joyce.pdf

There are numerous references to Joyce’s love for what he calls “the most shameful and filthy act of the body.” Over and over he refers to being turned on by “shit,” “farts,” and “brown stains.”

“The smallest things give me a great cockstand—a whorish movement of your mouth, a little brown stain on the seat of your white drawers, a sudden dirty word spluttered out by your wet lips, a sudden immodest noise made by you behind and then a bad smell slowly curling up out of your backside. At such moments I feel mad to do it in some filthy way, to feel your hot lecherous lips sucking away at me.”

"My sweet naughty girl,
I got your hot letter tonight and have been trying to picture you frigging your cunt
in the closet. How do you do it? Do you stand against the wall with your hand tickling up
under your clothes or do you squat down on the hole with your skirts up and your hand
hard at work in through the slit of your drawers? Does it give you the horn now to shit? I
wonder how you can do it. Do you come in the act of shitting or do you frig yourself off
first and then shit? It must be a fearfully lecherous thing to see a girl with her clothes up
frigging furiously at her cunt, to see her pretty white drawers pulled open behind and her
bum sticking out and a fat brown thing stuck half-way out of her hole. You say you will
shit your drawers, dear, and let me fuck you then. I would like to hear you shit them, dear,
first and then fuck you. Some night when we are somewhere in the dark and talking dirty
and you feel your shite ready to fall put your arms around my neck in shame and shit it
down softly. the sound will madden me and when I pull up your dress"

"The last drop of seed has hardly been squirted up your cunt before it is over and my true love for you, the love of my verses, the love of my eyes for your
strange luring eyes, comes blowing over my soul like a wind of spices. My prick is still hot
and stiff and quivering from the last brutal drive it has given you when a faint hymn is
heard rising in tender pitiful worship of you from the dim cloisters of my heart."


"My sweet darling girl,
At last you write to me! You must have given that naughty little cunt of yours a
most ferocious frigging to write me such a disjointed letter. As for me, darling, I am so
played out that you would have to lick me for a good hour before I could get a horn stiff
enough even to put into you, to say nothing of blocking you. I have done so much and so
often that I am afraid to look to see how that thing I had is after all I have done to myself.
Darling, please don’t fuck me too much when I go back. Fuck all you can out of me for the
first night or so but make my get myself cured. The fucking must all be done by you, darling, as I am so soft and small now that no girl in Europe except yourself would waste her
time trying the job. Fuck me, darling, in as many ways as your lust will suggest. Fuck me
dressed in your full outdoor costume with your hat and veil on, your face flushed with the
cold and wind and rain and your boots muddy, either straddling across my legs when I am
sitting in a chair and riding me up and down with the frills of your drawers showing and
my cock sticking up stiff in your cunt or riding me over the back of the sofa. Fuck me naked with your hat and stockings on only flat on the floor with a crimson flower in your
hole behind, riding me like a man with your thighs between mine and your rump very fat.
Fuck me in your dressing gown (I hope you have that nice one) with nothing on under it,
opening it suddenly and showing me your belly and thighs and back and pulling me on top
of you on the kitchen table. Fuck me into you arseways, lying on your face on the bed,
your hair flying loose naked but with a lovely scented pair of pink drawers opened shamelessly behind and half slipping down over your peeping bum. Fuck me if you can squatting
in the closet, with your clothes up, grunting like a young sow doing her dung, and a big fat
dirty snaking thing coming slowly out of your backside. Fuck me on the stairs in the dark,
like a nursery-maid fucking her soldier, unbuttoning his trousers gently and slipping her
hand into his fly and fiddling with his shirt and feeling it getting wet and then pulling it
gently up and fiddling with his two bursting balls and at last pulling out boldly the mickey
she loves to handle and frigging it for him softly, murmuring into his ear dirty words and
dirty stories that other girls told her and dirty things she said, and all the time pissing her
drawers with pleasure and letting off soft warm quiet little farts behind until her own girlish cockey is as stiff as his and suddenly sticking him up in her and riding him."

"С тех пор, как приехал сюда, ни разу не вставал мой бедный хуй. Как
будто нет его. Он тоже отдыхает от напряжения тех дней. Но сам я, весь,-
помимо него,- с нежностью думаю о старой, милой пизде. Хочется пососать ее,
всунуть язык в нее, в самую глубину. Наталочка, милая, буду еще крепко-
крепко ебать тебя и языком, и хуем. Простите, Наталочка, эти строчки, -
кажется, первый раз в жизни так пишу Вам.
Обнимаю крепко, прижимая все тело твое к себе. Твой Л."

Очень чувственно и трогательно, да.

Англосаксы все больные, ДЕГ прав

Есть мысль, что Эдгар Аллан По был некрофилом, что все эти поэтические рассказы типо Береники, Лигейи, Мореллы, Элеаноры, Аннабель Ли есть завуалированное желание трахнуть труп, ну или просто нравились красивые бледные женщины в платьях

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