Romance Quotes - Page 69

I participate in BDSM, but I wasn't abused as a child. I don't hate women, or particularly enjoy hurting women. Sometimes I make them feel pain, but it's consensual, it serves a purpose—to get them off—and they can indicate that they wish me to stop at any time. I do like the power I get from total submission, and the trust that my partner puts in me to give me everything, from her mind to her body, while expecting nothing in return—except the understanding that I won't violate that trust.

Partly James was jealous because he was a virgin, but mostly it just felt really weird being in a room with two people who'd spent the night having sex. It reminded him of the feeling you get when you pull a hair off your tongue and realise it's not one of your own.

Robert Muchamore

Her insides began to roar with a ferocious explosion of sensation and entitlement. For a moment, her thinking mind know this was what male and females were put on earth to do.

Distance, the dissonance insurmountable,would be not the end,but a magnet.When fingertips kiss,they imprint and cement something,that cannot be disintegrated. Time becomes a phantom,the wind becomes an anchor,and old dreams- blankets of warmth.Lull with me, Lady,there is no greater escape.Love and war, even when buttered on toast,still makes for the breakfast of champions.

Lovecraft says he knows about tentaclesbut that motherfucker never bedded a girl from West Chesterand survivedShe was a toothachethat oneand she tasted like crackthe best thing about her was if I was ever hungryI could always make a meal out of whateverwas making rest at the corners of her mouthI can't remember her nameas is the case with most of themthen again I can't rememberhow many donuts I ate this morningor how many beers I'll drink tonight,tomorrow

Good and safe" are all I have been during my romantic career, keeping myself virtuous outside of relationships never putting out before I had a commitment and a half dozen dates under my belt.

Valentine Glass

BDSM is not liberating nor does it promote equality between men and women.

J.F.Kelly

Women enjoy sex as much as men...if they were totally satisfied in sexual encounters, they would welcome them.

J.F.Kelly

I see specks of the Universe in your eyes.A body of stardustthat gives me a high.And when we make lovethe stars shine brighter than usual.When we lie there holding each other, I see love making us.

Saiber

I wonder, though... what would it be like? To be that close to a boy and have him see all of you, no holding back. Would it be scary only for a second or two, or would it be scary the whole time? What if I didn't like it at all? Or what if I liked it too much? It's a lot to think about.

Jenny Han

A man is not for you when all he knows is to slam your back on the bed and ram into you like a wild fool. The interested ones are the ones so interested that they become very interested in only interesting things about you.

Michael Bassey Johnson

Intimacy and lovemaking—intertwined, meshed, and one becoming the other—are what I strive to achieve each time I am presented with the opportunity to enjoy a lovemaking experience.

J.F.Kelly

We do not know whether I am making love to you or you are making love to me. The experience is so completely mutual. It feels awesome. I wish it could last forever.

J.F.Kelly

a foreign affair juxtaposed with a statesideand domestically approved romantic fancy is mysteriously attractive due to circumstances knowing it will only be parlayed into a memory

Tom Waits

I lost myself there — my mind imagining what was under his towel and what I would like to do to him. - Emma

Romance begins upstairs, then culminates downstairs.

Life will hack off your head and shit down your neck every chance it gets. I've found that consuming drugs and booze, listening to music and always having an excuse in the best way to tip the scales.

So many choices and temptations tonight. - Emma

Got the itch? - Jared

I lost myself there — my mind imaging what was under his towel and what I would like to do to him. - Emma

Slowly, but very deliberately, the brooding edifice of seduction, creaking and incongruous, came into being, a vast Heath Robinson mechanism, dually controlled by them and lumbering gloomily down vistas of triteness. With a sort of heavy-fisted dexterity the mutually adapted emotions of each of them became synchronised, until the unavoidable anti-climax was at hand. Later they dined at a restaurant quite near the flat.

You are so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing her softly on the lips. “I can’t believe I got to have you.” “You’re the only one who has,” Carrie smiled, “And I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Kassandra Cross

Her breast was young, the nipples rosy. Cosimo just grazed it with his lips, before Viola slid away over the branches as if she were flying, with him clambering after her, and that skirt of hers always in his face

Women need to assert their rights in the bedroom too - many women have done so in the workplace; many women have done so in house chores and parenting, but women's rights are sorely lacking in the bedroom.

J.F.Kelly

We made love... and sushi.

A little playful banter never hurt — or did it? - Emma

Hey, beautiful. - Joe Covelli

His mouth seizes mine. Consuming me. Devouring me. My body moves against his. Harder. Faster. Take me. Take all of me…

Women have got it all wrong now. They give it up too soon, and the men don't respect them. And before you tell me I don't have a clue, let me tell you something. By the time I let my future husbands climb into my bed, I'd made them work for it. And you know what? By the time they left it the next morning, they were begging for me to marry them.

A lot of who you were in middle age was determined before you had a chance to manipulate, control, or eve understand the things around you. It was no mystery, he thought, why some old people's minds returned to their youth; the wonder of those years, the discoveries, the first experience with the dirty secret of death, and the first stirrings of lust and love were indelible, drawn in luminous colors on clean canvas. Indeed, the first sex act was so mind-boggling that most people could still remember it clearly twenty, thirty, sixty years later.

I don't need the aid of a clever man to teach me how to live. I can find it out for myself.

His fingerprints covered my skin.

He was ruining it. Five minutes before, he’d looked at her with desire and she’d thought finally. Finally, someone saw her. Finally, someone wanted her and she would know what it was like to be a woman. She would know what it felt like to have another person’s hands on her. But now he looked at her with misplaced compassion. As if she were so desperate to get laid she had missed something. As if there was some man waiting in the wings. There wasn’t. This was it, her final chance for pleasure and with every question, with every word, he ruined it.

He wanted to give her more than that. Sex with him would never be just another thing she ticked off her list. It would be all-consuming and no matter how they ended up, this woman would always remember her nights with him as some of the best she’d ever had. His pride demanded nothing less. His love for her could give nothing less.

The body releases its electricity, merges with another, and together there is something like God in this pleasure. But afterward, in the quiet redolent air, there must also be offerings of truth. And so the mystery of love deepens.

They say I should stay away from you,” I said. “They said you’re not good for me.” t“I’m not,” he said with a wicked smile, “But doesn’t that make it even more fun?

Kassandra Cross

Thanks to a lifetime of brainwashing by Disney and Lifetime and Hallmark, she naively believes glimpsing God during an epic fuck somehow translates into some kind of happily ever after with her Prince Charming.

The better angels of his nature told him that he wasn’t a good enough man to be her first, but the heaviness that was settling in his balls gave the devil a distinct advantage, demanding that he at least give it a try.

Roselynn Randerod

I know what you want, darlin'. You go on and ask me nicely and you might just get it.

Eve Dangerfield

So, daddy, huh?C’mon Blue-Eyes, don’t be like that. You kept screaming ‘more’ and it was the dirtiest thing I could think of.

Eve Dangerfield

You are gonna get it now sweetheart," he grunted, seizing her nipples and massaging them roughly."Aw, what are you gonna do Max? Blow a load and get all sad about it afterwards?

Eve Dangerfield

Keep your southern fried bullshit to yourself. And know this, Charlie is the sweetest girl I've ever met and if you hurt her, or infect her with some kind of disease, you will die. Slowly.

Eve Dangerfield

James couldn't help it, he smiled. Charlotte was the strangest girl he'd spent time with lately, not because she was weird or even kinky, but because sweetness seemed to pour from her skin like molasses.

Eve Dangerfield

That was her last rational thought. She gave herself up to Cam completely, feasting on her. She couldn't get enough of her.

Jo Victor

It’d take a lot more than a quick fuck to lose me, Lockland.”He smiled and nipped my lower lip. “Plus,” I murmured, pulling back, “your cock is pretty nice. I think my ass would miss it.

THOMASttttttttttttGuiltyOf mankind. I have perpetrated human nature. My father and mother were accessories before the fact, But there’ll be no accessories after the fact, By my virility there won’t! Just see me As I am, like a perambulating Vegetable, patched with inconsequential Hair, looking out of two small jellies for the meansOf life, balanced on folding bones, my sexNo Beauty but a blemish to be hiddenBehind judicious rags, driven and scorched By boomerang rages and lunacies which neverTouch the accommodating artichokeOr the seraphic strawberry beaming in its bed:I defend myself against pain and death by painAnd death, and make the world go round, they tell meBy one of my less lethal appetites:Half this grotesque life I spend in a state Of slow decomposition, using The name of unconsidered God as a pedestal On which I stand and bray that I’m bestOf beasts, until under some patientMoon or other I fall to pieces, Like a cake of dung. Is there a slut would Hold this in her arms and put her lips against it?JENNETSluts are only human. By a quirkOf unastonished nature, your obscene Decaying figure of vegetable funCan drag upon a woman’s heart, as thoughHeaven were dragging up the roots of hell. What is to be done? Something compels us into The terrible fallacy that man is desirable and there’s no escaping into truth. The crimesAnd cruelties leave us longing, and campaigning Love still pitches his tent of light amongThe suns and moons. You may be decay and a platitudeOf flesh, but I have no other such memory of life. You may be corrupt as ancient applies, well thenCorruption is what I most willingly harvest. You are Evil, Hell, the Father of Lies; if soHell is my home and my days of good were a holiday:Hell is my hill and the world slopes away from itInto insignificance. I have come suddenlyUpon my heart and where it is I see no help for.

Christopher Fry

Rachel moans, “Great. Well, he’s not the only one sexually frustrated.”I laugh. “Well, then get over these issues so you both can be relieved.”“How’s Alex?” She raises an eyebrow at me.“I’m sure fine,” I say defensively. “I haven’t seen him in a few weeks.”“Really? I thought he made a nightly appearance.” “Rachel, those dreams aren’t him. It’s my f’ed up brain replaying my memories as a form of torture...

Isabelle Joshua

Ah, I love this; I love...your mouth on me.” He feels so good. Ah. His fingers replace his tongue. My emotions bubble up to the surface, screaming for release. I want to tell him how I feel. My eyes gloss with tears. I love him. I love you. I love you. Alex, I love you.

Isabelle Joshua

Pearl-colored light flowed over the far horizon and sparkled in the dewy drops beaded in spider webs. Everything was still - only the gulls and a turtle lazing on a rock observed their presence.

Kathleen Valentine

I would like to stop wordplaying, and see you.

Waylon H. Lewis

With each kiss in the cold house  we swallow clouds of breath – exhaled spirit, speech bubbles  we’d rather lick away  than fill with words. We run naked from room to room,  keeping the walls warm.  Our bodies blur through the halls  of your house, its winter circulation.

Thus, one of the awful things I can admit about myself is that the two years I spent with Jennifer live in my mind mostly as a series of frantic, breathy memories. Clawing hands tugging off clothes, heartbeat thumping in my ears, fingernails digging down my back. salty tastes lingering in my mouth. It's biology. It's hormones. As time passes I can recall fewer and fewer of our conversations and I couldn't give you the details of our five most-fun dates (though I have a fairly graphic vision of how each of them ended).If upon hearing this you pump your fist and wink knowingly, you can kiss my ass. She was a good friend to me. She put up with my bullshit and at times not even I can put up with my bullshit. But all that is gone and what is left is a big, black hole where the sex used to be.

With Mr. Montgomery, I set out to see what it would be like to write a novel in 30 days. It was hell! I'd do it again in a minute.

I believe she imbued my body thus, finding every touch enhanced by ambiguity of intention, as if it too required translation, and so each touch branched out, became a variety of touches.

But you're worth crying over. So i've decided you're staying here with me all night - or at least until I've given you twenty-seven orgasms.' Gina found herself a bit breathless. 'Twenty-seven? That's a very specific number.' 'I'm a very specific sort of man. Now each up.

he walks into the bedroom like he owns it. says, “i wanna be filthy with you.” takes me down hungry. helps me shed my skin. cafuné. he looked at me like i wasn’t something ruined. filled my vicious parts with gold. touched me with too much yearning. he said, “i’d burn for you.” how can he not see we’re the creators of the fire? he growled, “moan for me.” the wolf bit down and i howled into the night.

highway wildflowers swaying like the ocean. queen anne’s lace like doilies for a tea party never attended. this is a conversation between two parts of yourself. the fever will break soon, but until then i’ll be untangling you from the knots in my windblown hair. i smell like a wet forest, like long grass covered in sequins. i called your name but was drowned out by the thunder. i remember you murmuring, “please,” while you took my shirt off. i remember you and the airy “please” when you pulled me toward you by my legs. i remember “pleeease” while i learned how to let go. i remember your divine “please.” chanting it as if it’d draw a demon out of hiding. “please, please, please.” and i screamed, “yes.

Look at you Infidelity”, shaking his head in frustration. “I’m not sure if your choice of drug is passion, the thrill of the affair or the man himself, but there is a void you are trying to have us fulfill in your life and you are hooked! The secrets, the lies, the lame attempts to quit sleeping around…the isolation; don’t you get it? YOU LOVE INFIDELITY!"- Loving Infidelity

Getting even… Why do we want it in the first place? Is it a question of honor, nothing but an attempt to teach other people not to mess with us, or something else?Or… maybe it is just our way to make everything right when the Universe fails to do so.Our way to make the world right itself.

There is no such thing as “vaginal orgasm” vs. “clitoral orgasm”. The entire ring of tissues that surrounds the vaginal opening is connected to the clitoris by nerves and blood vessels. Ultimately all these tissues together are responsible for the female orgasm. This entire erogenous zone is often referred to as the “ring of fire”.

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