Quotes About Sensuality

A woman feels a man inside her and feels life. The act they engage in is the one from which all life springs, and for that moment they can feel that they are living, not dying.

The dusk reeks of fornication and bad consciences.

Does it ever stop? The wanting you?" "Even when I've just left ye. I want you so much my chest feels tight and my fingers ache with wanting to touch ye again.

And I mean to hear ye groan like that again. And to moan and sob, even though you dinna wish to, for ye canna help it. I mean to make you sigh as though your heart would break, and scream with the wanting, and at last to cry out in my arms, and I shall know that I've served ye well.

Her lips parted. Vaughn nearly died on the spot. He pulled her in. The guitar strummed its protest. Neither of them cared. She had her hand on his neck, the side of her thumb notched under his jaw, forefinger tips pressing into the nape of his neck as if saying, closer, more. He shoved the guitar to the floor, and it clattered against the wood. She broke away, panting. 'Oops.

He stared at her, unable to think of whole words. Orchid's mouth was wet and swollen, and he had done that. 'That was -' she smoothed her hair. 'That was -' Amazing. A long time coming. Something she wanted to do again, Dr. Bown be damned. 'Really nice.' Oh, no. he'd sucked at it. Nice? He could already hear all of her laughing.

My first really long lovemaking experience was thirteen hours nonstop, from dusk to dawn. At that point I had been more accustomed to five or six hours at a time. And then, at some time further on in my exploration, my new lover and I were in bed for a solid twenty-one days, apart from the minimum of time required to care for bodily needs.

dance floors would bleed from the knife of her dress

From the half-open doors of this chiffonier hung laces, ribands, stockings, ladies' underclothing and an abdominal brace, which gave the impression that the feminine finery had suffered venery.

?avola, koji sve zavodi, može zavesti jedino žena.

Put your head in my pussy, my refrigerator where all the bees want to go, honey.

I just like horny songs.

The French phrase "femme fatale" literally means "deadly woman," which understates the human embodiment of lust and peril, that intoxicating allure of sex and death that makes these creatures so fascinating. The femme fatale is a sleek and sensuous creature, dangerous either physically or emotionally to her victims.

He wanted to fuck her loudly on a hard bed with rain beating on the windows.

Spring-tension hips were thrust high and forward and moving rhythmically for an even more disturbing effect.

The reason people sweat is so they won't catch fire when making love.

Then he drinks, eats, and fucks.

Love, that is day and night - love, that is sun and moon and stars, Love, that is crimson, sumptuous, sick with perfume, no other words but words of love, no other thought but love.

An orange on the table, your dress on the rug, and you in my bed, sweet present of the present, cool of night, warmth of my life.

Nudes are the greatest to paint. Everything you can find in a landscape or a still life or anything else is there: darkness and light, character dimension, texture. I painted heads too, of course.

What everyone forgets is that passion is not merely a heightened sensual fusion but a way of life which produces, as in the mystics, an ecstatic awareness of the whole of life.

Everything in excess! To enjoy the flavor of life, take big bites. Moderation is for monks.

I want to lean in and get a whiff of him and rest my head on his shoulder or maybe make out with his neck.

I close the doors and yank off my sweater, and she pulls off her shirt, and I say, "You are driving me crazy. You have been driving me crazy for weeks." My