Quotes About Intimacy

To discover that the most important thing is human relationships and love and not materialistic things.

Men who write love scenes as if they are dealing with the mechanical parts of an engine should know that such scenes have zero erotic effect and do not accomplish their primary mission of evoking a loving experience between people.

the mere description of multiple sexual acts does little or nothing for the reader. A single act, kept at bay, warmed to, stretched out, can have a marked erotic effect.

My friend is he who will tell me my faults in private.

what i need is traveling minds talktouch kisses spittouch you swimming upstream.

Haiku [For you] love between us is speech and breath. loving you is a long river running

i gather up each sound you left behind and stretch them on our bed. each nite i breathe you and become high.

Help me, Sandy. Listen to my talk. Hold my hand when I git too sad. Laugh at my fears that keep poppin' out on me like some childhood disease. Be my vaccine, babee. I need you. Don't ever leave me, babee, cuz I'll never have a love like you again. I'll never have another woman again if you leave me.

I didn't even notice that, along the way somewhere, she'd become my best friend.

I know this sounds incredibly lame, but I don't want losing my virginity to feel like I'm losing something. I want it to feel like I'm finding something. I want sex to be amazing. I want it to be life-alteringly wonderful. And I want it to happen with someone I love.

Walking with Murphy through the bone-freezing chill toward the bus stop, I start shivering. And somehow, when he slips his arm around me to warm me up, it feels right. Righter than anything ever has.

When we kiss, his lips on mine are like CPR-- breathing the life back into me.

I've always been the long-term relationship, go-home-and-meet-mom girl.

Sex is like washing your face - just something you do because you have to. Sex without love is absolutely ridiculous. Sex follows love, it never precedes it.

It's funny how intimate it feels to get a text.

Why treat the people closest to you like strangers?

Not for the first time in our twenty-three-year marriage, I wonder how two people can live happily side by side and sleep in the same bed every night – two people who would probably die for each other if necessary – and yet see the world in such profoundly different ways.

It's unclear who moves first. We're in each other's arms, lips locked, melded, hotly fused. Our hands drag over each other, reacquainting, remembering, almost as if we're both verifying the other one is real flesh and blood.

I touch his cheek, see my hand shake, and quickly pull it back. He grabs my wrist, places my palm back against his cheek, and closes his eyes like he's in agony. Or bliss. Or maybe both. Like he's never been touched before.

You're scared," he said quietly. "Scared?" I scoffed. "Of what?" "Of anything real. And what we have is real. You love me and it terrifies you." "I don't love you," I lied. He grabbed my face then, dragging me closer with both hands. "You love me. I know you do. I know it because I can see it in your eyes . . . in the way you look at me." He inhaled. "It's the same way I look at you.

Oh. Yeah? Then do me a favor and explain it to me. Why is Hunter so important? Why does it gotta be him? 'Cause that's what this is about, right? You fuck me but you still want to be with him.

Pleasure suffused her and she snuggled deeper into his arms, her heart clenching when he tightened his hold on her. After a while his breathing slowed and his hold relaxed. Convinced he slept, she whispered, "You should have been my first." A small ache pinched her heart. His chest vibrated beneath her hand, sending a thrilling shiver up her spine as his deep voice rumbled through the air, "I'll be your last.

Kicking off my shoes, I climed in beside him. I eased toward him. His body radiated heat in the bed. I relaxed, inching closer, burrowing the tip of my nose against his back, savoring the clean smell of his skin, fresh from the shower. His voice rumled through his back toward me. "Hey, your nose is cold." I grinned ahainst his skin. "How about my feet?" I wedged them between his calves. He hissed. "Get some socks on, woman.

His blue eyes drilled into me. "Why are you doing this?" I shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know." He shook his head once like that wasn't good enough. "Why are you here?" His fingers shifted, the tips sending hot little sparks up my arm. He should look ridiculous with the blue washcloth covering half his face, but he didn't. He looked human and male and all too vulnerable right then. "Because you need someone.