Captain Lewrie and the Hilariously Bad Sex Scene

I’m currently on book 13 of the Alan Lewrie series. He’s a British sea captain, along the lines of Jack Aubrey. Like Captain Aubrey, he’s a capable sea captain who treats his crew well. Unlike Captain Aubrey, he really likes to gamble, drink, and fuck.


Cover, Captain's Vengeance by Dewy Lambdin

There have been a couple of books in the series without much naval action at all, including this 13th. It’s fun for me, because he’s in ~1800 New Orleans, acting as a spy trying to find who stole a prize ship and making an assessment about how the limeys might go about invading New Orleans. I know the geography and the history here well enough to know that the author did his homework, and the realistic setting is making it fun.

In this book, the author has gotten more explicit in the sex scenes. Unfortunately, he’s really bad at it.

And Lewrie gladly obliged, picking up his pace and slamming his groin against her firm and springy young buttocks. The taut bed-ropes supporting the mattress groaned and skreaked, the wooden bedstead parrot-squawked at its joins, and Lewrie himself groaned, panted, and uttered triumphal steer-like grunts as he thrust as she commanded: harder and faster … certainly not deeper, for he was already sheathed up to the hilt in her upraised, kneeling body. Charité clawed the pillows, the sheets, face pressed into a pillow now and then when her pleasure made her squawl out loud, shudder, then writhe and thrust back against him like a maddened serpent, grunting and lowing like a heifer being taken by a rutting bull, her grunting a counterpoint to his that increased in fury and urgency ‘til…

Both the word “streaked” and the “…” at the end are from the book. It looks like bits that I screwed up or changed, but no.

Good lord. Rereading it as I type this post, it’s even worse than I remember.