Sarah is reading D.H. Lawrence’s “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” at the moment. People way-back-when sure had strange thoughts regarding love and affection. The book is an early stab at soft-core pr0n, and uses some interesting language. The oddest thing to date has been
“She felt the passion, moving in her bowels.”
I’m not really sure how this relates to a romantic encounter. Near as I can tell, this is in fact the last place in your body where one would want to feel movement during the heat of passion.
He leaned up against Lady Chatterly, his smoldering hot throb-rod pressing against her virginal white dress. As he shifted her shift from her shoulders to her navel, revealing her buxom bossom, she felt the passion moving in her bowels.
“Lady Chatterly, may I haveth this danceth with thou(eth)? Thou art a great horizantal mambo-er.”
“Pardon me, kind sir, for I must attend to the passion inside of me, and run hither and thither to thine outhouse to relieve the passion within my bowels.”
“Alas fair maiden, I shall soundly trounce Jeeves for offering you the Ex-Lax Mousse”