Quotes About Sensuality

Yes, she, Claire Parks, who by all rights should have been dead these many years, her bleached bones rotting in the cold ground, was turned on. Waves of heat rolled through her body in liquid surges. The heat became almost incandescent in her breasts and in her loins, but her entire body burned and tingled with heat and life.

It wasn't the first time he'd met someone that made him want to kneel, to crawl, to submit, but it was the strongest reaction he'd had in a long time. And she had no qualms about manhandling him. His wrists still ached from where she'd grabbed him, and he wanted to savor that.

My head drops back and I have a fleeting out-of-body moment where I see myself in the window, my hands tied above my head with my legs wrapped around the neck of Chris Merit, while he does delicious things to my body.

But just know that I have every intention of making you forget everything but what it feels like to have my tongue and my cock buried inside you." 

The soft rasp of her erratic breathing is erotic, enticing, and I can almost taste her desire.

I moan with his words, with the boldness of this man, with the ease at which he can spin my world around and drive me wild. I am close to the sweet spot, moving against his hand, arching into his touch

Our laughter dissolves into a crackling current that steals my breath away. Our eyes lock, and heat pools low in my belly.

I will tease you, bite you, and spank you.

But I have every intention of making you forget everything but what it feels like to have my tongue and my cock buried inside you.

The two men's gazes lock and I am suddenly swimming in a pool of testosterone, in need of a life raft.

he's made the violin cool and sexy.

guess all that sinuous grace and exotic beauty can

Passion: "Your profile ought to be pressed upon a coin." Mark: "Your body ought to be pressed upon mine.

My tongue remembers your wounded flavor. The vein in my neck adores you. A sword stands up between my hips, my hidden fleece sends forth its scent of human oil.

Dwelling As though touching her might make him known to himself, as though his hand moving over her body might find who he is, as though he lay inside her, a country his hand's traveling uncovered, as though such a country arose continually up out of her to meet his hand's setting forth and setting forth. And the places on her body have no names. And she is what's immense about the night. And their clothes on the floor are arranged for forgetfulness.

I know moments measured by a kiss, or a tear, a pass of the hand along a loved one's face. —Li-Young Lee, from "Always a Rose," Rose (BOA Editions, Ltd., 1986)

For a women to wear the clothes that a man had bought her was to feel his touch with every waking moment. For a man to hear the whisper of cloth as walked, was to feel her response to him, the throb of her pulse as it intensified, the silky heat between her thighs as waited for him to unwrap her.

He almost thought that if he held her, touched his mouth to hers, took in the breath as it left her body, he would feel it too, would begin to breathe again, feel again.

Sex is the ... tremulous and bewildering and nerve-racking and delicious and myriad-adjectived soul-condition ... generally known as love. Ninety-nine point nine repeater percent of the world's literature has been devoted to its analysis. It's therefore of some importance.

Oh! but your lips were thrilling, much too thrilling, Never before were mine so strangely willing.

Men, they have the two emotions: Hungry and Horny. If you see him without an erection, you fix him the burrito. —Rosita Rivera, who was well acquainted with politicians and men

Lust and love. They both put a fire in your damn shorts.

Tout ce temps, tous ces visages, tous ces cris de jouissance, ces étreintes sans âme au petit matin, quand la nuit n'est plus, le jour n'est pas encore, ton orgasme prend fin, et tes yeux se dessillent, ta chambre n'est qu'un bordel, Baudelaire est mort et, dans tes bras, il n'y a qu'une putain...

It is good that man should accept at face value the cheats of sense and snares of flesh, and through the fogs of sentiency pursue the lures and lies of passion.