Erotic Quotes

The air between them was electric, the scent of his aftershave was intoxicating and she could feel the testosterone bouncing off him. She could immediately tell he was a powerful man.

Women’s imagination – unlike men’s, I would argue – does not always need the erotic equivalent of Semtex to ensure detonation.

A fantasy is something produced in the imagination, allowing you to indulge in a thought life that is very different from what you experience on a day-to-day basis. Within this realm there is no fear of discovery, no worry about being shamed; here there is only the deepest of pleasures.

It was good for her though, to submit to things that weren’t for her pleasure, but his.

The day I met you is the day by which all others will be measured. — Levi Ian Bryson

.. any Dom who doesn't promote open communication is not developing a healthy relationship.

What are friends for, but to help each other get through bad times and have multiple orgasms?

Oh honey, someday a real man is going to make you see stars and you won't even be looking at the sky." Excerpt from Grace Willow's Last Minute Bride

Woman, especially her sexuality, provides the object of endless commentary , description, supposition. But the result of all the telling only deepens the enigma and makes woman's erotic force something that male storytelling can never quite explain or contain.

I've never understood why the majority of human curses and insults refer to the erotic sphere. Sex is wonderful and associated with beauty, joy and pleasure. How can the names of the sexual organs be used as a vulgar synonym for ̶

Hey, beautiful. - Joe Covelli

The dominant in him not liking me turning my back on him but the man in him dying to have me. The fire in his eyes scared and excited me at the same time because I knew in that moment he said fuck the rules.

Writing is a piece of cake. Editing is a slab of liver.

Fighting with Harper stirred his blood, and walking out on her had only intensified his need, as though the brief separation was more than he could bear. All he could think about was getting back to her. Undressing her. And fucking her until he worked whatever this desperate feeling was out of his system.

He looked at me, and then looked away quickly.But I could tell he was interested.I think my tight t-shirt might have had something to do with it. And the way I was pushing my breasts towards him, with an inviting smile on my face.

So…” Nolan smirked. “Are you going to tell me why you had a trunk load of pleasure devices delivered to your door, or are we going to just keep ignoring the giant box of sex toys in the room?

He handed the dust pan and brush over. I knew they wouldn’t be much use in cleaning the floor. I also knew the real reason he had given them to me: so he could look furtively at me, as I bent over.That idea turned me on. I welcomed it, and decided to give him a good look at what he wanted.

It was the impatience of the way he tore my panties from my body, that really turned me on: I was all he could think of, as his lust got the better of him. The way they looked so small, and cruelly forgotten, was a beautiful symbol of how much we both needed to satisfy our lusts.

You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his kneesExcerpt from To Kiss a King by Grace WillowsComing this summer to Amazon Kindle and paperback.

Broken or whole... you're all mine. You... are all mine! ~Sade~

... The use of your gift for good is your responsibility. You must decide for yourself.

Escaping Reality One Erotic Romance Novel At a Time.

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.

Stick with me, kid. I’ve got this.” His words were an echo of a promise he made long ago, not long after we first met. He always knew exactly what to say, to do, and that’s the reason I didn’t move away when he brought his lips down to mine. It’s the reason I let my hands slide over his bare chest. They mimicked the way his tongue slid along my lower lip when I sighed and melted into him.

I look at him and my body reacts in a way that it never has before, even in the throes of passion. I look at him and I start aching so deep inside it takes all I can to think, to breathe, to speak. He’s like the brightest flame and it takes everything in me to resist its call.I know that if I give in, I’ll get burned so deeply, there might be nothing left once I come out the other side.But, god, I want to step into that flame.

To a woman sexual intimacy is more a tool to get mentally close to her partner than merely a means to physical pleasure.

We lay that way for a while, breathing together, watching the shadows flicker over the walls and each other's faces. She played with a wet strand of my hair, wrapping it around her finger. It should have been awkward, but somehow it wasn't. I felt something moving between us, like light or heat, growing with every breath.

He was quite possibly the most desirable man she had ever had the good fortune to lay her eyes upon and she had to meet him like this. Life was not fair. A groan of frustration left her lips as her body began to heat once more, blood pumping furiously through her. Oh no, she thought, this cannot be happening yet again. Gritting her teeth she tried to quell her reaction.

I'm good at blowjob.

One second, he was in my mouth, my tongue flicking over the broad head of him; the next, his hands were on my waist and I flipped onto my front. He nudged my legs apart with his knees, spreading me as he gripped my hips, tugging them up, up before he sheathed himself deep in me with a single stroke.I moaned into the pillow at every glorious inch of him, rising onto my forearms as my fingers grappled into the sheets.

A Dom intent on developing a relationship will approach you on a personal level first.

Submitted for your approval--the curious case of Colleen O’Brien and thegorgeous time traveling Scot who landed in her living room.” – Rod Serling

Funny how I keep forgetting you’re insane.” - Colleen O’Brien

Do not censor yourself. Let go of that part of your brain and just be.

.. Avoid any Dom with a large ego. Do not mistake arrogance for confidence.

At that time I also had, for a short while, the strength to bear it. But all too soon I lost external sight of the shape of that beautiful man, and I saw him disappear to nothing, so quickly melting away and fusing together that I could not see or observe him outside of me, nor discern him within me. It was to me at that moment as if we were one without distinction.

I couldn't hear anything or anyone, there was only the sound of our sex and the smell of books.

Another important way in which the erotic connection functions is the open and fearless underlining of my capacity for joy, in the way my body stretches to music and opens into response, harkening to its deepest rhythms so every level upon which I sense also opens to the erotically satisfying experience whether it is dancing, building a bookcase, writing a poem, or examining an idea.That self-connection shared is a measure of the joy which I know myself to be capable of feeling, a reminder of my capacity for feeling. And that deep and irreplaceable knowledge of my capacity for joy comes to demand from all of my life that it be lived within the knowledge that such satisfaction is possible, and does not have to be called marriage, nor god, nor an afterlife.This is one reason why the erotic is so feared, and so often relegated to the bedroom alone, when it is recognized at all. For once we begin to feel deeply all the aspects of our lives, we begin to demand from ourselves and from our life-pursuits that they feel in accordance with that joy which we know ourselves to be capable of. Our erotic knowledge empowers us, becomes a lens through which we scrutinize all aspects of our existence, forcing us to evaluate those aspects honestly in terms of their relative meaning within our lives. And this is a grave responsibility, projected from within each of us, not to settle for the convenient, the shoddy, the conventionally expected, nor the merely safe.

I haven’t been with anyone since my break-up with Jackass. Yes, Jackass is his name. Officially.

Sexual intimacy is not the destination, it is the path - the path that leads to mental union.

Our hearts have already been broken. Maybe I can help to heal hers, even if it means ripping mine to shreds when she leaves and I have to say good-bye.

The moment her hymen was plucked from her body in the wilderness, Her soul was taken from sanity.

I want you both." I said quietly, not caring that my cheeks had grown warmer. "I have for a while.""If we try this—" Tyler took a deep breath. "And it doesn't feel right—""We'll stop." Kacey promised as he slid his hand beneath my halter neck and began caressing my skin. "You say it baby, and we'll stop and forget all about it."My stomach flipped at the feel of his fingers circling my navel. "And if I don't want to stop?"An unreadable look crossed Tyler’s face and my heart skipped as Kacey moved behind me. The warmth of his body seeped into my back, while his fingers painted trails of heat across my abdomen and along my ribs."Then what happens in Silver Creek, stays in Silver Creek. Unless you decide otherwise." Kacey pressed his lips to my ear. A shiver ran down my neck and spine. "Does that sound fair?

When you've been everywhere, tried it all and done it all, what's left is the exploration of self, intellectually and sexually, through curiosity and erotica.

Everything is red, freakin pink, and all heartsy. Everywhere! It’s driving me insane!

She felt the cold blast from the sterile air conditioning on her bare arms and thighs, as she ambled down the center of the shopping complex's ground floor.The scene was a swirl of candy bright lights--the Victoria's Secret fuchsia signboard, signboards which lured one to purchase "confidence," or "sexual appeal," or whatever it was that was being advertised--the fluorescent lights in each store, contrasting with the shiny, black-tiled walls and eye-catching speckled marble tiles on the ground.One could lick the floor--the tiles were spotless, clean like the fake air she was breathing in, like the atoms and cells in her that were decaying in stale neglect.

I hired you for your attitude, and so far I’m pretty happy with my decision. But I’m not sure I can work with you until I’ve fucked this attraction out of my system.

Love alone can’t fix me. I’m broken in ways you can’t imagine. Daily, I’m coping with scenarios I build in my head… scenarios involving you in danger. I see danger everywhere. It’s who I am, what I do. I can’t help the way I feel. I need to closet you, coddle you, protect you against my bosom and smother you.

He towered over her, as intense and savage as only he could be, making her feel small and delicate in comparison, surrounded by his utter maleness. She felt trapped and she wanted to stay in his cage forever.

I will keep my bulk. All of it, if ye dinna mind. I will have need of it, thank ye." Derrick

I’d love to be tried out,’ I said, with a suggestive smile. ‘One should always explore something, before one goes in deeper.’I saw a little flicker of fun in his eyes.

I live for sex. I celebrate it, and relish the electricity of it, with every fibre of my being. I can see no better reason for being alive.

Men need to realize that women take longer to get aroused and satisfied - sometimes 6 -8 times longer. Make the journey pleasurable.

Trevor cupped his hands around it, felt Zach's heartbeat throbbing between his palms. The skin of the shaft was textured, slightly rippled beneath the surface. The head was as smooth as satin, as rose petals. Trevor rubbed his thumb across it, squeezed gently, heard Zack suck air in through his teeth and moan as he let it out. He could see blood suffusing the tissue just beneath the translucent skin, a deep dusky rose delicately purpled at the edges, crowned with a single dewy pearl of come. It was as intimate, as raw as holding someone's heart in his hands.

Refusing to lean back against him, Colleen sat ramrod straight until they reached the road. “I guess I should say thank you for saving my life,” she muttered then turned and slapped Faolán hard across the face. “And that’s for you having to save it in the first place. And I’m not your woman, you big, arrogant, lying, betraying…faery loving…” She searched for the perfect insult and couldn’t find one, “…Scot.” She gave a very unladylike snort. “Happy now? That fiery enough for you?

You turn the lights on and off here and if you can’t sleep and want something to read there are books in the living room…” her voice broke off. “Wait. Can you read?”His chin took a slight tilt upward. “Aye,” Faolán replied, his voice cool, “in English, Gaelic, Latin, or French. My Welsh is a bit rusty, and I doona remember any of the Greek I was taught except for words not fit for a lady’s ears. I can also count all the way up to…” He looked down and wiggled his large bare toes, “…twenty.” – Faolán MacIntyre

Squeezing her eyes shut, hating every moment, the put a single finger in and moved it around.“There’s nothing,” she lamented.“Go deeper.”Alice did.“Deeper.”“There’s nothing,” she yelled, pulling out her hand in anger and humiliation.“Of course there is nothing,” the Hatter said. “Who ever heard of such a ridiculous thing?”“So why did you make me do it?” Alice demanded.“Because it was really hot,” he answered.

Her long body stiffened against him. Her cool fingers tightened in his shaggy fur, and her bare, clinging heels dug deep into his heaving flanks. She was sweet against him, and the clear logic of this new life conquered the dreary conventions of that old, dim existence where he had walked in bitter death.

My panties were still on but he didn’t let that stop him, nosing them out of the way and tonguing my sex, making low, growling noises in his throat like a big cat purring with pleasure while it devoured its prey.

I suppose it’s not a social norm, and not a manly thing to do — to feel, discuss feelings. So that’s what I’m giving the finger to. Social norms and stuff…what good are social norms, really? I think all they do is project a limited and harmful image of people. It thus impedes a broader social acceptance of what someone, or a group of people, might actually be like.