“Empty my tanks,” I’d begged breathlessly, as once more she began drawing me deep inside her pleasure cave. Her vaginal ratchet moved in concertina-like waves, slowly chugging my organ as a boa constrictor swallows its prey. Soon I was locked in, balls deep, ready to be ground down by the enamelled pepper mill within her.
From: “Scoundrels: The Hunt for Hansclapp” by Major Victor Cornwall and Major Arthur St John Trevelyan
More examples to be found here:
Extravagant metaphors are indecently exposed in the shortlist for the Literary Review’s annual showcase of ‘outstandingly bad’ erotic writing
Speaking of which, Mrs Edge tells me that I won’t be emptying my tanks for a very long time.