Quotes About Sensuality

The combination of his teeth gently grating on her skin and his tongue flicking back and forth was the most erotic experience of her life. A sad statement on her sexual experiences, but still true.

The first was that he drew her earlobe into his mouth and sucked. It didn't sound like much. Had someone described the event to her she would have been mildly impressed, but not overly so. However, having it actually happen was very different.

Phoebe, you're the most amazing lover I've ever had. You're sexy, responsive to the point of being a lethal weapon, sweet, funny, caring and if I had a box of condoms, I'd use every single one before sunup.

He gave her the kind of slow, sexy grin that had, for centuries, caused women to make very bad choices.

Was she quiet in bed, or a screamer? He was open to either.

her body was stirring as heat sparked and her girl parts woke up. No

I have to know," he murmured. Know? Know what? Before she could ask, he moved his right hand across her hip to her belly, then slipped it down between her legs. His fingers slipped across slick, swollen flesh. They both sucked in a breath. He pulled his hand free and carefully zipped and buttoned her jeans. About fourteen thousand questions flashed through her brain, but she settled for the most important one. "What did you have to know?" "That you wanted it, too.

bunches of flowers and kisses, their bodies locked together by a stopwatch. Descriptive on an affair

It's so effortless to let my loneliness defeat me, make me mold myself to whatever would (in some way - but not wholly) relieve it. I must never forget it... I want sensuality and sensitivity, both... Let me never deny that... I want to err on the side of violence and excess, rather than to underfill my moments.

In NY sensuality completely turns into sexuality - no objects for the senses to respond to, no beautiful river, houses, people. Awful smells of the street, and dirt... Nothing except eating, if that, and the frenzy of the bed.

In place of a hermeneutics we need an erotics of art.

For if you start dancing on tables, fanning yourself, feeling sleepy when you pick up a book, developing a sense of rhythm, making love whenever you feel like it—then you know. The south has got you. *

En lugar de una hermenéutica, necesitamos una erótica del arte.

it's so effortless to let my loneliness defeat me, make me mold myself to whatever would (in some way—but not wholly) relieve it. I am infinite—I must never forget it … I want sensuality and sensitivity, both … I was more alive and satisfied with H than I have ever been with anyone else … Let me never deny that … I want to err on the side of violence and excess, rather than to underfill my moments …

A woman can't stay hard when all around her is loveliness.

The pressure of his mouth eased. He drew away, holding her at arm's length. He filled her vision, broad shoulders and shaggy head framed by the crags and cliffs of Connemara. He had a look of astonished delight on his face, while dangerous banked fires smoldered in his eyes. Still gripping her shoulders, he stepped back and said, "Look me in the eye, Caitlin MacBride, and tell me you've been kissed before.

I want you in every way a man can want a woman, and in ways we've yet to invent. Every single day and night. Now, come here.

I only have so much willpower, Helen," he whispered. "And since you apparently sleep in the most ridiculously transparent tank top I've ever seen, I'm going to have to ask you to get under the covers before I do something stupid.

I want to fuck you in those glasses.

We were locked onto each other as though we had just discovered this incredible thing you could do with two mouths pressing close and moist against each other. And the taste of him... Horrifyingly, unbearably sweet -- sweet in the way crack must feel hitting the bloodstream of an addict after years of staying clean.

Jake's mouth found mine, his lips molding hot and soft to my own. His tongue tentatively tested the seal of my lips; I parted them and he pushed inside. It was startlingly sweet and achingly familiar, like finding harbor.

I want that. I don't think a week goes by I don't dream about it. The way it feels to move inside you. The way your body grabs on like tight velvet. The sounds you make, like having me inside you is the best thing that ever happened to you.

I cracked the window shades of my eyes. Jake knelt over me, the head of my cock in his mouth. I raised my head, mumbled, "What are you doing?" He paused the proceedings long enough to utter, "If you don't know, I must not be doing it correctly.

Nothing so simple nor yet so intense as a kiss between lovers.