GEORGE R.R. MARTIN is good at writing about violence and heraldry. He is not good at writing about sex.
When it comes to the physical act of doin' it, the Game of Thrones creator resembles not so much a master of wordcraft, but rather one of the greasy, fedora-sporting neckbeards whose hobbies include vehemently arguing about Pathfinder in the back of a gaming store. If you've read the books, you know that sex, in Martin's world, is anatomical, mechanical, and above all, gross. If you haven't read the books, brace yourselves.
• At some point Martin must have gone on a trip to the Everglades, breathed in the heady Florida air, and thought, "Man, I could really go for some vagina right now." That is the only reason I can think of why, in A Feast for Crows, he calls a lady's bits a "Myrish swamp."
• "The hair at the juncture of her thighs a brighter red than that on her head. Does that make it even luckier?" No, Jon Snow. Ygritte's pubes are not a rabbit's foot. You know nothing, Jon Snow.
• Nipples of massive girth, darkness, and circumference: Martin is obsessed with them. The same woman of Myrish swamp fame (congrats, Taena Merryweather!) also has "big dark nipple[s]," while one of the Martell ladies has "huge dark nipples" that are also "responsive." A hooker's nipples are "fat" and "brown," while another pair of nipples are "wide pink circles." "Her nipples were two black diamonds, her sex slick and steamy," Martin writes at one point. And at least one knight gets a nipple shout-out: "Her fingers found his nipples," Martin notes, "pinching till he spent his seed within her."
• When Samwell Tarly of the Night's Watch finally makes an oopsie and forgets his vow of chastity, Martin describes Sam's penis as a "fat pink mast." Sam is fat, so his cock is also fat, because that's how penises work. Does Sam's mast have little sails on it? Is his cock the driving force behind some kind of sex boat? I think that's what's going on here. Maybe he can sail into a Myrish swamp!