Quotes About Eroticism

As her sons have seen her: the mother in patriarchy: controlling, erotic, castrating, heart-suffering, guilt-ridden, and guilt-provoking; a marble brow, a huge breast, an avid cave; between her legs snakes, swamp-grass, or teeth; on her lap a helpless infant or a martyred son. She exists for one purpose: to bear and nourish the son.

we begin to discover the erotic in female terms: as that which is unconfined to any single part of the body or solely to the body itself.

My favorite involves you wearing your black dominatrix boots." "What else am I wearing?" "Nothing." "What are you wearing?" "A hard-on and a smile.

nipples puckered painfully tight and she squeezed her thighs

Jim' persona had everything to do with the principle of Dionysus, the dark, self-defeating eroticism.

I fucked that slicked up cock like a dirty girl and he banged me right back until my wetness was slapping and my tits were bouncing. My hands gripped his pecs and I was warbling for sweet Jesus and I thought my head would explode

The subject was quickly dropped as I sucked him to a full stand, and wasn't resumed until his dick plopped out of my ass an hour later.

He stopped talking and set to licking the hard pricks—mine and Charlie's—that he held in his greedy hands.

Perhaps the blood that was flooding into his dick, bringing it to full erection, was starving his brain of oxygen.

He dropped to his knees and started smothering my cock in kisses; this wasn't going to be a particularly skilful blow job, I thought, but it would be sincerely meant.

I reached around and pulled my butt cheeks apart. That was all the reassurance he needed, and suddenly I felt that hot breath on my hole, felt the sandpaper of his face against my buttocks, and then—oh, brave new world!—felt his tongue lapping at me, licking me, caressing me where I had never been touched before.

First, I will suck you." I'm not sure whether this direct statement was just the European way, or if his English was inadequate to express anything more complicated, but in any case he dropped to his knees and started unbuttoning my fly.

Edna restored the toffee to the centre of her tongue and sucking pleasurably, resumed her typing of Naked Love by Armand Levine. Its painstaking eroticism left her uninterested--as indeed it did most of Mr. Levine's readers, in spite of his efforts. He was a notable example of the fact that nothing can be duller than dull pornography.

Love is necessary to satisfy the mind, ethics to satisfy the conscience, and spiritual seeking for peace of soul. Without food and clothes, the body becomes thin and weak. Without eroticism, the mind becomes restless and unsatisfied. Without virtue (ethics), the conscience goes astray. Without spirituality, the soul is degraded.

The mind can also be an erogenous zone.

The mom doesn't become sexy; the woman does. You have to retrieve the woman from the mother. And she may need to separate to do that: a bath, a walk. She must cordon off an erotic space.

The acid test is that all paranoids and fundamentalists lack a sense of humor, for humor is a chaos flux and flexibility, of ambiguity and multi-dimensionality, and that kind of erotic liveliness is precisely what the fundamentalist is trying to eliminate in holding rigidly to doctrine.

1)A women's greatest asset is her beauty. 2)There are only two guidelines in good sex, don't do anything you don't really enjoy and find out what are your partner needs and don't balk them if you can help it. 3)A meal can be an erotic experience in itself. 4)We may eventually come to realize that chastity is no more a virtue than malnutrition.

We live in a society where people will watch erotic stuff and then pass comments on it.

She longed for porch friendship, for the sticky, hot sensation of familiar female legs thrown over hers in companionship. She pined for the girliness of it all, the unplanned, improvisational laziness. She wanted to soak the words 'time management' out of her lexicon. She wanted to hand over, to yield, to let herself float down the unchartered beautiful fertile musky swamp of life, where creativity and eroticism and deep intelligence dwell.

Putting his mouth close to her ear, he said, "I'm going to ride you raw, baby, but you won't care. It's going to feel so good, all you'll be able to think about is getting me back inside you. Keeping me here, packed up tight and deep, screwing into you so hard you go hoarse from your screams . . .

What is the relationship between love and desire? How do they relate, and how do they conflict? ... Therein lies the mystery of eroticism.

Marie se sentait bien, nue sous les draps a l'abri de l'orage, les sens exacerbes dans le noir, les yeux brillants dans les eclairs, savourant avec volupte la dimension erotique du plaisir qu'il y a de jouir de l'orage dans la chaleur d'un lit, la fenetre ouverte dans la nuit, quand le ciel se dechire et les elements se dechainent. La main et le regard, il n'est jamais question que de cela dans la vie, en amour, en art.

She gasped again and opened blue eyes lit with erotic mischief. "Are you trying to steal the reins from me?" Even with his penis buried deep within her, even moments from climax, he arched an eyebrow. "You have them only by my permission.