Bunker, by Aniruddha Bahal (winner, 2003)
"She picks up a Bugatti's momentum. You want her more at a Volkswagen's steady trot. Squeeze the maximum mileage out of your gallon of gas. But she's eating up the road with all cylinders blazing."
Credit: Faber

I Am Charlotte Simmons, by Tom Wolfe (2004)
“Slither slither slither slither went the tongue, but the hand that was what she tried to concentrate on, the hand, since it has the entire terrain of her torso to explore and not just the otorhinolaryngological caverns.”
Credit: Mark Seliger, AP

Winkler, by Giles Coren (2005)
“… and [she] lifted herself from his face and whipped the pillow away and he gasped and glugged at the air… and he yelled with the pain, but the yell could have been anything… she scratched his back deeply with the nails of both hands and he shot three more times in thick stripes on her chest. Like Zorro.”
Credit: Mark Seliger, AP

Twenty Something, by Iain Hollingshead (2006)
"Oh Jack, she was moaning now, her curves pushed up against me, her crotch taut against my bulging trousers, her hands gripping fistfuls of my hair. She reaches for my belt. I groan too, in expectation. And then I'm inside her, and everything is pure white as we're lost in a commotion of grunts and squeaks, flashing unconnected images and explosions of a million little particles."
Credit: Andrew Crowley

The Castle in the Forest, by Norman Mailer (2007)
“Fanni had told her once what to do. So Klara turned head to foot, and put her most unmentionable part down on his hard-breathing nose and mouth, and took his old battering ram into her lips.”
Credit: Charley Gallay
Shire Hell, by Rachel Johnson (2008)
Shire Hell, by Rachel Johnson (2008)
“I find myself gripping his ears and tugging at the locks curling over them, beside myself, and a strange animal noise escapes from me as the mounting, Wagnerian crescendo overtakes me. I really do hope at this point that all the Spodders are, as requested, attending the meeting about slug clearance or whatever it is.”
Credit: Angus Muir

The Kindly Ones, by Jonathan Littell (2009)
"Una had stretched out on the bed of the guillotine; I lifted the lunette, made her put her head through it, and closed it on her long neck, after carefully lifting her heavy hair. She was panting. I tied her hands behind her back with my belt, then raised her skirt. I didn't even bother to lower her panties…”
Credit: AFP/Getty Images

The Shape of Her, by Rowan Somerville (2010)
“The wet friction of her, tight around him, the sight of her open, stretched around him, the cleft of her body, it tore a climax out of him with a final lunge. Like a lepidopterist mounting a tough-skinned insect with a too blunt pin he screwed himself into her.”
Credit: Weidenfeld & Nicholson

Ed King, by David Guterson (2011)
“She took him by the wrist and moved the base of his hand into her pubic hair until his middle fingertip settled on the no-man's-land between her 'front parlor' and 'back door' (those were the quaint, prudish terms of her girlhood), she got him on the node between neighbouring needs (both of which had been explored by johns who almost never tarried).”
Credit: Bloomsbury

Infrared, by Nancy Huston (2012)
“… never will I tire of that silvery fluidity, my sex swimming in joy like a fish in water, my self freed of both self and other, the quivering sensation, the carnal pink palpitation that detaches you from all colour and all flesh, making you see only stars, constellations, milky ways, propelling you bodiless and soulless into undulating space where the undulating skies make your non-body undulate.”
Credit: Atlantic