Quotes About Sensuality

Once you've seen a pretty girl naked, you feel a certain attachment to her.

They moved closer together, and his hand was suddenly between her knees. His elbow nestled next to her left breast, and he smiled. She smiled. This was not altogether unpleasant, she thought, but there was business at hand. The

Women know when men don't desire them: ghosts and witches, deities and demons, angels of death—even virgins, even ordinary women. They always know; women can tell when you have stopped desiring them.

Why do you guys want to take all the mystery away? Isn't the mystery an exciting part of sex?

And when Dr. Daruwalla breathed in her dangerous aroma, he thought he'd at last identified the smell of sex, which struck him as an earthy commingling of death and flowers

God, I think I just hit a high E-flat - and I really held it! Esmeralda said, after one of her more prolonged orgasms, but my ears were warm and sweaty, and my head had been held so tightly between her thighs that I hadn't heard anything.

What do you think I imagine making love to a vagina would be like? Maybe like having sex with a ballroom!

There is at least one terrible thing about lovers – real lovers, I mean: people who are in love with each other, even then they will relish their every physical contact in a sexual way; even when they're supposed to be in a kind of mourning, they can get aroused. Franny and I simply couldn't have gone on holding each other on the stairs: it was impossible to touch each other, at all, and not want to touch everything.

To feel forever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever-or else swoon in death.

She's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand like a lizard on the window-pane.

Curves are so emotional.

It was a thunderingly beautiful experience-voluptuous, sexual, dangerous, and expensive as hell.

The profoundest of all sensualities is the sense of truth and the next deepest sensual experience is the sense of justice.

A meal can be an erotic experience in itself.

The same piece of music alters at each hearing. But oh, the need to repeat and repeat and repeat unchanged the sexual experience.

In a sense, sexuality is the built-in psychedelic experience that only a very few people manage to evade.

Just a touch...and I lose my heart all over again.

moment he woke and knew me. Our limbs slid against one another, on paths that we had traced so many times before, yet

I lean forward and our lips land clumsily on each other. They are like the fat bodies of bees, soft and round and giddy with pollen. I can taste his mouth — hot and sweet with honey from dessert. My stomach trembles, and a warm drop of pleasure spreads beneath my skin. More .

Later, we lay on the riverbank, learning the lines of each other's bodies anew. This, and this and this. We were like gods at the dawning of the world, and our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other.

He puts a hand down, to lean against. The muscles in his arm curve softly, appearing and disappearing as he moves. His eyes are deep green on mine. My pulse jumps, for no reason I can name. He has look at me a thousand thousand times, but there is something different in this gaze, an intensity I do not know. My mouth is dry, and I can hear the sound of my throat as I swallow.

Girls and boys would sigh over him, but all I saw were the thousand soft places of his body where his life might be ended.

She turned before him slowly, showing the lushness of her figure as if she were roasting on a spit.

His flesh was hot as a brazier, and I pressed as close as he would let me, like a lizard to noonday rocks.