Quotes About Intimacy

Tink's little pink dildo, Rache! Haven't you gotten rid of those condoms yet? They got a shelf life, you know.

I took a breath, seeing from across the room the rain on his eyelashes. A sudden need to brush them free filled me. I could almost feel the dampness of the rain on my fingers, how soft it would feel.

Tension pulled my eyes open when her fingers traced a trail down my neck. Sensation blossomed, and I threw my head back and sucked in the air. Her arm slipped around my waist, catching me before I fell.

That was the extent of our relationship, but I knew he used me to keep Were women from insinuating themselves into his life. My gaze landed on the fat little black book beside his phone. Apparently that didn't slow him down when it came to dating. Dang, he needed a rubber band to keep the thing shut.

Her fingers pressing into me grew firmer and her breath quickened. I told myself this was what I wanted. Believe it. Accepting it. –don't be afraid, she breathed as she held herself poised

I can smell her all over you. You need some help taming her? Let me break her in for you.

You're good with people, and all I know how to do is give good neck.

It smelled like sex and dog in here. But mostly it smelled like sex.

I'd give anything if you'd kiss me. I said. I mean, I said when he tilted his head to look at me, his eyes wide in shock, I've kissed guys before. It's like a handshake these days, I lied, just wanting to know what his lips on mind would feel like. Almost required if you're leaving.

Ivy, however, just wanted to get in David's pants.

My God, you have beautiful hair in the firelight," he said softly, and I blinked. "It's like your thoughts, all cinnamon and wild untamed. I've always liked your hair.

Ï'm going to love you within an inch of your life, then love you some more.

I want to wake up beside you, see your curls on my pillow. I want a chance at falling in love.

To the guy who finishes my sentences and gets my jokes. Even the lame ones.

To the man who knows what makes the perfect date night

I want to love someone. I think I might already.

To the only man I'd make butterscotch pudding for

It took everything I had to pull from his lips, and even as I did, I felt a new desire layering itself over the old, soaking in where it would linger in my thoughts.

If the van's a rockin', don't come a knockin'!" Jenks said, gyrating beside me.

The intense desire to talk with someone, sharp as any pain; this was what people meant when they talked about love. Or rather; this was what Sax would acknowledge to be love. Just the super-heightened desire to share thoughts. That alone.

People didn't understand that true intimacy did not consist of sexual intercourse, which could be done with strangers and in a state of total alienation; intimacy consisted of talking for hours about what was most important in one's life.

That was how humans knew each other. Tiny fractions of their lives intersected or were known in any way to anybody else. It was much like living alone in the universe. Which was strange. A justification for living with friends, for marrying, for sharing rooms and lives as much as possible. Not that this made people truly intimate; but it reduced the sensation of solitude.

He was not her therapist now but her lover, and if you couldn't make your lover angry, then what kind of lover was he? She saw the awful bind that one was put in when one's lover was also one's therapist-- how their objective eye and soothing voice could become the distancing device of a professional manner. A man doing his job--it was intolerable to be judged by such an eye, as if he were somehow above it all, and did not have any problems himself, any emotions that he could not control.

Of course I will like forever any woman who has gone to bed with me, as long as we don't become a couple and hate each other forever.