Sex Quotes - Page 39

[Picasso] loved...women for the sexual, carnivorous impulses they aroused in him. Mixing blood and sperm, he exalted women in his paintings, imposed his violence on them, and sentenced them to death once he felt their mystery had been discharged and the sexual power they instilled in him had dulled... Women were his prey. He was the Minotaur. These were bloody, indecent bullfights from which he always emerged the dazzling victor.

Suddenly, by the sort of violent effort with which one wrenches one's head away from the pillow in a nightmare, Winston succeeded in transferring his hatred from the face on the screen to the dark−haired girl behind him. Vivid, beautiful hallucinations flashed through his mind. He would flog her to death with a rubber truncheon. He would tie her naked to a stake and shoot her full of arrows like Saint Sebastian. He would ravish her and cut her throat at the moment of climax. Better than before, moreover, he realized why it was that he hated her. He hated her because she was young and pretty and sexless, because he wanted to go to bed with her and would never do so, because round her sweet supple waist, which seemed to ask you to encircle it with your arm, there was only the odious scarlet sash, aggressive symbol of chastity.

[Being rejected] hurt, 'cause what turned me on in sex was believing that they knew me, that I'd found somebody to understand.

It was the exact oppositefor me. At first all Iwanted was sex with her,but soon I wanted more.More sex, yes, in unusualplaces, and all different kinds.But that wasn’t all. I wantedher to fill the empty spacesleft by a father who neveronce praised me, ‘friends’ whoused me, an ice princess momwho raised me with glass kisses.

As a rule of thumb, four consecutive lines of dialogue is about as much as you want to have without a tag.

A philosophical discussion ensued about right and wrong, and good and bad. Also about things to be ashamed of and things to be feel guilty about. Could anything carried out between two consensual adults be wrong? And why should they be embarrassed by something a loving partner wanted to try? Right then they made a pact to never lie to each other, and to live out their sexual fantasies together. If two intelligent, loving and happily married people couldn't be honest with each other about their most hidden sexual desires, then who could?

I am fucking you, Tania, so that you'll stay fucked.

Sex between a man and a woman can be wonderful, provided you can get between the right man and the right woman.

Love making is much more than physical expression, it is a soulful dance of sensual wonder and euphoric amazement.

The Law of Diminishing Returns is true of everything in life, except sex, which seems endlessly repeatable with effect.

I think that I shall never see a poem as lovely as a hot-gushing, butt-cramping, gut hosing orgasm.

Never sleep with someone whose troubles are worse than your own.

Anahita mewed contentment as she snuggled even closer to Imamiah. She was enjoying her interactions with Imamiah very much. She could not understand why angels remained as spirit when this flesh was so much more pleasurable.

The fact that the person who you are sleeping with is also sleeping with another person or other people does not necessarily mean that he or she does not love you. And the fact that you are the only person who someone is sleeping with does not necessarily mean that he or she loves you.

Just imagine spending your entire adult life in the big city, meeting tons of attractive fellow singles day in and day out, year after year, but having to wait until just before you kick the bucket to have sex. And if that is not torture enough, when you finally get to do it, your only option is to go back to your hometown and lose your virginity with someone from your high school.That's a salmon's sex life in a nutshell.

Did I use enough lube last night?”I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes with blushingcheeks. “Don’t…don’t call it that.”“What? Lube?” he asked. I nodded and covered my mouth w

Carnal embrace is the practice of throwing one's arms around a side of beef.

No matter where you go, there you are!

Let him lust for you until he has blue balls

What is the meaning of life? Why are we here? Philosophers have pondered that question for centuries. I'm afraid the answer is disappointingly simple: Mating. That's it.

One day she was going to be found dead mid-hump on a polyurethane phallus

Carnal embrace is sexual congress, which is the insertion of the male genital organ into the female genital organ for purposes of procreation and pleasure. Fermat’s last theorem, by contrast, asserts that when x, y and z are whole numbers each raised to power of n, the sum of the first two can never equal the third when n is greater than 2.

He is incredibly handsome. You never realized before how beautiful evil could be.

I’d never heard my parents make love. If they made love, they did it silently, like bank robbers, like surgeons.

Lust is insatiable, whether it feeds on power, wealth, or flesh. It eventually consumes our morality and ultimately consumes our humanity.

You see, the penis, it's so graceless, wouldn't you agree? When it's cold and shrivelled up, it looks like W.H. Auden in his old age; when it's hot, it flops and dangles about in a ridiculous way; when it's excited, it looks so pained and earnest you'd think it was going to burst into tears. And the scrotum! To think that something so vital to the survival of the species, fully responsible for 50 per cent of the ingredients--though none of the work--should hang freely from the body in a tiny, defenceless bag of skin. One whack, one bite, one paw-scratch--and it's just the right level, too, for your average animal, a dog, a lion, a sabre-tooth tiger--and that's it, end of story. Don't you think it should get better protection? Behind some bone, for example, like us? What could be better than our nicely tapered entrance? It's discreet and stylish, everything is cleverly and compactly encased in the body, with nothing hanging out within easy reach of a closing subway door, there's a neat triangle of hair above it, like a road sign, should you lose your way--it's perfect. The penis is just such a lousy design. It's pre-Scandinavian. Pre-Bauhaus, even.

When you were strung outand I kissed youI imagined your moutha mound of cocaine,inhaling your breathlike powder as I pushed into you and you pulledme with your bruised thighs.Some nights we fucked soslowly I dissolvedlike a Quaalude in a glassof vodka, and you drankme down. We kept the room dark,so we could not seeeach other with our eyesrolled back - or was itbecause we did not wantto see ourselves.It's taken me too long to thinkof that, the way we neverthought the other would go,and then one nightI woke upsoberand yes,still there.

If your sexual fantasies were truly of interest to others, they would no longer be fantasies.

It was nice of her to want to believe the best about me. People tend to do that with the strangers they're fucking. If she wanted to think that apathy and independence were the same thing, good for her. Maybe she was right.

His lips were smooth against my skin, his breath warm, and my knees buckled as he lifted my other hand to his mouth and kissed it, too. Kissed it carefully - in a way that made heat begin pounding in my core, between my legs.

Licence my roving hands, and let them go Before, behind, between, above, below.

The condom broke. I know how stupid that sounds. It's the reproductive version of the dog ate my homework.

It's the last frontier to conquer, other people, strangers, the jungle of their arms and legs, hair and skin, the smells and moans that is everybody you haven't done. The great unknowns. The last forest to devastate. Here's everything you've only imagined.

Nothing says awkward like coming in your pants while dry humping.

Landscape is to American painting what sex and psychoanalysis are to the American novel.

The wild women in his lap,' my father enthused, 'laying their breasts on his head.'There was a moment of stunned silence. Then my mother spoke slowly, with an edge to her voice. 'I think you mean "wild beasts laying their heads in his lap".''Do I?

What Hans had intended to end at a simple kiss quickly escalated into something neither one of them seemed able to stop.

literature coming from the cold corpse of a whore is the last thing to be served in bed.

Seriously, it's like watching mild porn, watching you two eye fuck each other every two seconds.

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.

We are [God's] by creation, and again by redemption. He has every right to tell me what to do with my mind and body. I have. I right to do whatever I want with my body.

I didn't understand what it was about men—not all men, but a good portion of them—that turned a good, solid “NO” into an “I'm just playing coy; try harder.

And then, with the feather-green darkness pressed against the windows, he puts his filthy fingers on my scrubbed hope face and says, "If I kiss you, it's all over." And then he does. And then it is.

I was playing Rasputin and what was motivating him was crumpet really, and I was extremely keen on crumpet so I was really rather good as Rasputin. And my next catastrophic failure was Macbeth, who I played in the style of a crumpet-lover, and then when Doctor Who came along, I embraced this lunacy, this cloud-cuckoo-land where people had to be convinced by absolute nonsense. I came from a very religious background, so it was easy for me to believe in something I knew nothing about.

Nathan, how can you stand playing the same piece over and over again?" And Grandpa Nate answered, "Why don't you ask me how I can stand making love to the same woman over and over again?

She is emerging (she has no choice) / into a place / like sex or childbirth, / one thing to the observer, something very different to the participant.

Most people give up finding their soul mate, and settle down to just having a flesh mate.

My cock actually sort of staggers like a punch-drunk boxer who doesn’t know when to stay down.

Should we “expect” our physical, sexual, intellectual, and emotional intimacies to automatically continue throughout a marriage? Nope. At least, not in my opinion. But I do think we should be able to expect both partners to protect and preserve the sanctity of these intimacies. That, to me, is part of honest loyalty.

Ben hid a wince behind his hand, trying very hard not to think of seventy-year-old Ellie Verstgard rolling around with Mr. Wenner. Despite his best resistance, the image scrolled across his brain and took some of his love for the world with it.

His anger was still there, and he used it to break into her. He liked the way her eyes widened in alarm, as if he was forcing a lock, as if he was breaking and entering. It was the first time he'd ever slept with a woman and it felt like burglary.

No matter what corruption he’s taught about the virtue of selflessness, sex is the most profoundly selfish of all acts, an act which he cannot perform for any motive but his own enjoyment—just try to think of performing it in a spirit of selfless charity?-an act which is not possible in self-abasement, only in self-exaltation, only in the confidence of being desired and being worthy of desire. It is an act that forces him to stand naked in spirit, as well as in body, and to accept his real ego as his standard of value.

I have sex," Grace shrugged.I meant with a man," Claudia said dryly.Now why would I ruin something so good by inviting a man along?" Grace asked.

Starving whilst schooled is like a man’s finding out that his wife is on her periods … a few seconds after he took Viagra.

You know that look that women get when they want to have sex? Me neither.

There was a war between them, between love and the right thing to do, and it kept assaulting them, kept keeping them apart.

When I’d remember this night in weeks, months, or even years, it wouldn’t be the sex. Sex would fade and so would the need to be filled with him, but right now I felt him inscribe his soul around my chest, and the reminder would be there with every beat for as long as I lived.

You don't know what thirst is until you drink for the first time.

She leaves my side and heads deeper intothe apartment singing, “—if the spirit tries to hide, its temple far away… acopper for those they ask, a diamond for those who stay.

Anna loved and didn’t love sex. Anna needed and didn’t need it. Her relationship with sex was a convoluted partnership that rose from both her passivity and an unassailable desire to be distracted.