Quotes About Sensuality

For me, there is a paradox in poetry, which is like the paradox in tragedy. You have the most terrible subject, but it's in a form that is so sensually gratifying that it connects the surviving heart to the despairing intellect.

I had gone into my wife Akemi over and over and in so many ways that the thought alone made my heart begin to race and my entire body began to sweat like summer but in the spring season.

Now the money man might not be ringing any bells sexually, but if he has ends-- if his pockets are heavy--a bad bitch will moan like this nigga is the original Cassanova.

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.

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.

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.

But Bryony knew what he was feeling, and about three weeks after the massaging had begun, she gave him a potion that Eswara had given her, a concoction of cinnamon, mace, cloves, nutmeg and lavender which she had said would send the blood rushing through all parts of his anatomy. All.

We did make use, from time to time, of candles, neckties, scarves, shoelaces, a little water-color paintbrush, her hairbrush, butter, whipped cream, strawberry jam, Johnson's Baby Oil, my Swedish hand vibrator, a fascinating bead necklace she had, miscellaneous common household items, and every molecule of flesh that was exposed to air or could be located with strenuous search.

For there is an attractiveness in beautiful bodies, in gold and silver, and all things; and in bodily touch, sympathy hath much influence, and each other sense hath his proper object answerably tempered.

I feel his arm Lightly Over me. He takes one of my outstretched hands. Draws it beneath my stomach. "One more time..." This is not sex, Not friendship. Something Strange Special In the stillness of his breath, The waterlike way he moves. He is making a dance. We are making a dance.

Un pressentiment vague et fiévreux mêlait un frisson de volupté à l'anxiété d'Edgar.

Como animales, calientes y ávidos, caían uno sobre otro cuando se encontrban en un pasillo oscuro, detrás de una puerta, en un rincón, entre dos minutos robados; la mano quería sentir a la mano, el labio al labio, la sangre inquieta sentir a su hermana, todo buscaba febrilmente a todo, cada nervio ardía por gozar la sensualidad de un pie, de una mano, de un vestido, de cualquier parte viva de sus cuerpos anhelantes.

Önümden birkaç güzel kad?n geçti, ince kuma??n alt?nda her ad?mda titreyen göÄŸüslerine cüretkârca, fakat içten bir hayranl?k duymadan bakarken kendilerini böyle küstahça ç?plaklaÅŸt?r?lm?? ve küçümsenmiÅŸ hissettiklerinde sergiledikleri s?k?nt? ve haz kar???m? utangaçl?k kar??s?nda içimden güldüm.

Después comprendí que esa mirada que atrae, que te envuelve y te desnuda a la vez, esa mirada de seductor consumado, era tu modo de mirar a todas las mujeres que se cruzaban en tu camino, a cualquier vendedora que te atendía, a cualquier criada que te abría la puerta. No eres consciente de la fuerza de esa mirada que tu ternura hacia las mujeres hace parecer más dulce y afectuosa en su insistencia.

Tu mirada distraída me acarició sin quererlo y en el acto, en cuanto se encontró con la atención de mis ojos, se convirtió en aquella manera tuya de mirar a las mujeres —cómo me estremecieron los viejos recuerdos—, esa mirada tierna que te envuelve y a la vez te desnuda, que te rodea y casi te toca...

Il tuo calore è dolce mentre mi abbracci.

His young man's limbs, sleek in their dark male pride, seemed to disdain the covering offered them by the brief shorts and striped jersey. His body might have been naked, like his full, muscled throat, which rose, round and proud as the male organ of a flower, from the neck of his sweater.

A lot of good the door did. The man's pheromones oozed through the keyhole and the crack underneath the panelled wood.

And he was still breathtakingly sexy... all muscles and male, leather and Levi's.

It's sexy as hell to see you holding my weapon.

The truth is that from birth on we are, to one extent or another, a fairly sensual species.

We stalk the truth as poets, sensualists, a duality, limited insanity. We labor in our muse, carving alphabets of experience into our hearts.

Undressing her was an act of recklessness, a kind vandalism, like releasing a zoo full of animals, or blowing up a dam.