Quotes About Sensuality

Her white arms became my entire horizon ("The Rooster And The Pearl")

She knew he would like taking it off; he tended to prefer her dresses on the floor rather than on her person.

And the soft sound of his voice made me want to move closer to him so I did, a little

It could make you slightly psychotic if you really focused on the idea that girls had holes under their clothes. Holes that suggested, in the absence they pointed out, that they could be filled, and that you could do the filling.

He loved the way women, clothed, had a bosom, a single entity, but when unclothed, it cleaved into two discrete parts, two breasts, like the way you could separate an orange into halves by hooking thumbs into it.

She was sexy in a malnourished way; you felt that if you took her to bed, first you would have to give her a hot meal.

If you didn't feel it on your body long after he'd left, was it really worth laying for him? I wanted to feel that.

Beautiful, he says, and she could titrate like a motherfucker.

They knew each other most deeply through body-warmed sheets and the tangle of half dreams.

The world is blood-hot and personal. —Sylvia Plath

Strange, don't you think, that nuns and monks make the most sensual food and drink?

A woman's orgasm is such a fragile thing, dependant as much upon her mind as on her clitoris.

He hadn't been her first lover or the first boy to give her an orgasm. He hadn't even been the first she'd loved. He'd been the first to turn her inside out with something as simple as a smile. The first to make her doubt herself. He'd taken her deeper than anyone ever had, and yet she hadn't drowned.

Sex makes bumble-tongued fools even out of the most eloquent, but the beauty of it is that it also tunes our ears to hear the meaning of words that, spoken under other circumstances, would make us laugh or cry or frown.

You've got the sexiest voice. You make everything you say sound like it tastes good coming out of your mouth.

I feel the weight of his gaze all over me, covering me like a blanket.

You look like a goddess when you come, did you know that?" "I'm not a goddess." "Not a goddess. Not an angel. Not a devil. Are you a ghost? Because you can't be real." "I'm real.

You look gorgeous, Elle, and you don't act like a gorgeous woman does." "I don't? How do I act?" "You act like an angel. But you fuck like a deomon. Don't you.

What are you wearing?" I looked down at my soft flannel pajamas. I'd washed them so many times the plaid pattern had faded mostly to grays and whites. "What do you want me to be wearing?" Dan's voice shifted a little. I imagined a smile. "Nothing." Such a small thing, that little bit of flirting, but all at once I felt as if air had rushed into my lungs, and I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath. "Nothing but a smile.

And what was dancing but fucking with your clothes on?

Don't use the buckle," she told him with a laugh, her eyes closed, head bent. "I haven't beaten a woman with my belt before, Simone. That doesn't mean I don't have any clue about how to do it.

Everything was heat and sweat, bump 'n' grind. Stroke and sigh.

drifting on daydreams of cunnilingus,

Dan smiled at me with lips still moist from mine. I have seen clouds part for the sun. I have seen rainbows. I have seen flowers in the morning, covered in dew, and I have seen sunsets so brilliant with fire they have made me want to weep. And I have seen Dan smile at me, his lips still wet from my kiss, and if I had to choose which sight moved me the most I would say it was that one.