Quotes About Sensuality

Beth…Beth… He whispered her name in his mind, unwilling to break the spell that surrounded them with any sound. He did not want to hear his voice; the only sounds he desired were the soft inhalations of Beth's breath, her sighs of pleasure, the brush of his body and hers as he loved her. She was beautiful, so perfect. He wanted to sit back and feast his eyes on her, sear her into his memory, lying like this, waiting for him.

some of the best sex I can barely remember.

I don't know what it is about accents that makes me want to get undressed and high-five myself.

The man has not been created who is disinterested in kissing.

Low in her body she felt a molten heat, and soon her beloved Thomas began to plunge into her pool of liquid.

He was once again wearing only a pair of trousers, chest bared, and sight was extremely arousing. All that naked male flesh, all that dark, swirled hair, was unsettling and thrilling. She longed to run her fingers through the matted pile, to rub her nose against it, while she traced over sinew and bone.

This is the main course," he declared. "Later, I'll provide dessert." From the salacious gleam in his eye, she understood that he wasn't referring to food. "Do I get to pick my favorite?" "With my avid assistance.

She couldn't tear herself away from his beautiful face, his furred chest, his tight trousers. As usual, the top buttons were unfastened, and her gaze was held captive by the male mysteries buried below. How she craved to see him in the altogether! To run her hands across that marvelous torso! To massage and caress as he permitted his other paramours to indulge themselves on a regular basis!

Not willing to deny himself a modest sample of the shattering excess, he spun her and propped her against the bedpost. Her thighs were spread wide and, though many layers of fabric separated them, his cock was wedged against her mound, her searing heat coaxing him, urging him on and in. Matching the thrust of his tongue, he flexed against her, slowly and meticulously, letting her savor his aroused condition, allowing her to distinguish his decadent invitation.

But wouldn't it be more amusing if I stayed? You could climb in the tub again, and I could wash you. Or---" he glanced down at his pants that so graphically outlined his masculine form---"I could soak in the water, and you could bathe me . Either way, I promise the experience will be everything you desire. And more.

I decided that I wanted to have one memory of you with your clothes on." "Beast," she chuckled. "If you wished to see me dressed, you only had to request it." "Plus, it's so fun to remove everything"---he stared at her over the rim of his stemmed goblet---"piece by piece.

Not willing to deny himself a modest sample of the shattering excess, he sun her and propped her agains the bedpost. Her thighs were spread wide and, though many layers of fabric separated them, his cock was wedged against her mound, her searing heat coaxing him, urging him on and in. Matching the thrust of his tongue, he flexed against her, slowly and meticulously, letting her savor his aroused condition, allowing her to distinguish his decadent invitation.

He needed Sarah's sweet courtesy, was desperate to suffer through her virginal oohs and aahs, to bask in her fascination. The feel of her smooth hands, with those slender, questing fingers roving over him, was like a healing salve to his battered body and spirit. She amused herself with his chest, rifling through the springy hair, exploring the ridges and valleys until her maneuvers felt as natural as breathing, as though she'd touched him just so a hundred times before.

Lovely..." he murmured in an enticing baritone that skittered across her nerve endings and induced her abdomen to clench in response. The peculiar salutation snapped her into action, and she whirled to face him. Nervously, she clutched at the towel, desperately striving to shield herself, but his probing examination slithered over her like a tangible caress, lingering on her lips, her breasts, the juncture between her thighs.

Fastidiously, she investigated, learning his shape, awed by the variations of velvet over steel. She pampered and played, altering the pressure, the speed, the length of her caress. Amazingly, with the slightest modification, he reacted accordingly.

Her breathing hitched. Too much was happening too fast. The wanton episode was so inconceivable that it played out like a fantasy---except that he was really present, arousing and addictive. Her mind wailed for her to call a halt, but her body wouldn't obey. 'I'd planned to have you on your bed the first time"---his assertion brushed against her ear---"but maybe I should take you here, by the mirror, so you can see how splendid we are together.

Acho uma delícia quando você esquece os olhos em cima dos meus.

When I glimpse the backs of women's knees I seem to hear the first movement of Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony.

Women are beautiful, and yummy.

Stars encircle me when your lips lean down to mine, there is the sound of many waters falling. There is the murmur of a million nightingales, — and the flash of brilliant lightning.

If I look into your eyes a sudden fire burns in my veins.

My heart beats faster as you take my hand, my love grows stronger as you touch my soul.

Now and then it is a joy to have one's table red with wine and roses...

Famously, Anne Boleyn was not a beauty: she was more about quirkiness and an innate sensuality, and there are a lot of references to her eyes. Which sends out a great message for women, because life is not about the aesthetic all the time.