Quotes About Sensuality

The only burning passion I'm sure I have, is the passion for sex.

Si vous vous asseyez sur la cuisse gauche de monsieur votre père, ne vous frottez pas le cul sur sa pine pour le faire bander, à moins que vous ne soyez seule avec lui.

When all the laces are undone, when all the petticoats have fallen, the woman is dressed only in her perfume.

T]he distance between sympathy and sensuality is as short as that which separates those two words in the dictionary.

I press my hands against my chest, wishing I could somehow be even closer to him. I hate skin; I hate bones and bodies. I want to curl up inside of him and be carried there forever.

With the first kiss his mouth will taste of wormwood.

All at once it hit him: this was power too, just as surely as smashing your fist into someone's face, just as surely as putting a hammer through someone's skull. The power to make another person crazy with pleasure instead of fear and pain, to have every cell in another person's body at your thrall.

He looks strong and animal and dominant, a beast of sex.

Where rational thought is overcome by the strength of physical attraction. This feeling will draw words from the pen that one doesn't even know exist. This feeling will make one combine words that don't go 2gether but just sound so good U not only read them, U can smell them. (Reflecting on that straight up animal lust feeling)

A kiss without a hug is like a flower without the fragrance.

For flavor, instant sex will never supercede the stuff you have to peel and cook.

Mia's version of the twist is that of a sexy cat.

They're going at it like a couple of fuck monkeys. Almost on the fade up, Louis cums.

Every time he glances at me I feel it just as surely as if he has reached out and run his finger along my soul. It is all I can do not to smile at the sheer wonder of it.

Sex, like art, can unsettle a soul, can grind a heart in a mortar. Sex, like literature, can sneak the other within one's wall, even if for only a moment, a moment before one immures oneself again.

Sex, like art, can unsettle a soul, can grind a heart in a mortar. Sex, like literature, can sneak the other within one's walls, even if for only a moment, a moment before one immures oneself again.

Okay, this was kissing. Serious kissing. Not just a kiss before moving out, not a good-bye, this was Hello, sexy, and wow, she'd never even suspected that it could feel this way.

We'll have sex all night. Half the morning too. And just when you think you can't take anymore, we'll go at it again.

I want to make love to you, and if you don't stop me now, that's exactly what's going to happen.

So tell me, Jane, are you cold?" His lips brushed hers and he said through a hot breath, "Or turned on?

She took a deep breath and forgot to exhale. She wondered what it would be like if she licked him up one side and down the other. "What are you thinking?" She suddenly felt kind of hot and dizzy and accidentally let Layla out. "That I want to lick your tattoo," she whispered.

My favorite involves you wearing your black dominatrix boots." "What else am I wearing?" "Nothing." "What are you wearing?" "A hard-on and a smile.

I am a very good cook." When she did cook. "Good. I like to eat." He lightly bit her palm. The too-much-air feeling in Lucy's stomach pressed upward into her heart. "What?" she asked past the constriction in her chest. "What do I like to eat?" "Yeah." "Blondes with blue eyes." Oh God. She pulled her hand from his. "Are you hungry?" His gaze lowered to her mouth. "I could eat.

I want to feel you up like we're sixteen in the backseat of a car. On the outside of your clothes," he said just above a whisper. "Touch you all over, then slide my hands up under your shirt.