"Now if you'll kindly hold this for me," the Orangedrink Lemondrink Man said, handing Estha his penis through his soft white muslin dhoti, "I'll get you your drink. Orange? Lemon?"
Estha held it because he had to.
"Orange? Lemon?" the Man said, "Lemonorange."
"Lemon, please," Estha said politely.
He got a cold bottle and a straw. So he held a bottle in one hand and a penis is the other. Hard, hot, veiny. Not a moonbeam.
The Orangedrink Lemondrink Man's hand closed over Estha's. His thumbnail was long like a woman's. He moved Estha's hand up and down. First slowly. Then fastly.
The lemondrink was cold and sweet. The penis hot and hard.
The piano keys were watching.
...
His hand closed tighter over Estha's. Tight and sweaty. And faster still.
Fast faster fest
Never let it rest
Until the fast is faster,
And the faster's fest.
...
Then the gristly-bristly face contorted, and Estha's hand was wet and hot and sticky. It had egg white on it. White egg white. Quarter-boiled.