Best 7189 quotes in «sex quotes» category

Why believe in dreams, that promise a reality, which will never be?

Why are you so angry with your Duckling, harry? Don't you like it when I open my legs wide to you? Cross them over you - the way you like? What will you do when your little Duckling isn't there anymore to touch you with her soft fingertips, Harry, where you like it? First the left nipple and then the right. Your Duckling doesn't want to leave you, Harry." "Duckling..." "I need freedom sometimes, Harry.

Why did it have to be such a shameful secret? Hadn’t I been potty-trained and taught to chew with my mouth closed? So what was the freaking big deal about having sex? Wasn’t it essential to the survival of our darn, hypocritical species?

Why do women always feel they have to settle for less?

Why even call it a fuck? Why not be clear and call it a seminal emission in a preapproved orifice?

Why do you always have to put you and McNab and sex in my head? It brings pain no blocker can cure.

Why?' He asked. 'Why what?' What could I say? Noah, despite you being an asshole, or maybe because of it, I'd like to rip off your clothes and have your babies. Don't tell.

Why is every mom's concern about sex? There are more important things in life, like school, careers, poetry, books, ice cream, or learning how to make the perfect chocolate cake. It's so damn frustrating.

Why is it… that temptations of the world seem to be stronger than romance? Is it because of biological imperative of reproduction; so wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am has to take precedence? And your prospect Special Guy finally appears to be nothing more than cheap imitation of things that might have been?

Why not say that the meaning and purpose of the sexual powers is pleasure? Certainly sex is pleasurable, but there is nothing distinctive about that. In various ways and degrees, the exercise of every voluntary power is pleasurable. It is pleasurable to eat, pleasurable to breath, even pleasurable to flex the muscles of the leg. The problem is that eating is pleasurable even if I am eating too much, breathing is pleasurable even if I am sniffing glue, flexing the muscles of the leg is pleasurable even if I am kicking the dog. For a criterion of when it is good to enjoy each pleasure, one must look beyond the fact that it is a pleasure. Consider an analogy between sex and eating. The purpose of eating is to take in nutrition, but eating is pleasurable, so suppose that we were to say that the purpose of eating is pleasure, too. Then it would seem that any way of eating that gives pleasure is good, whether it is suitable for nutrition or not. Certain ancient Romans are said to have thought this way. To prolong the pleasure of their feasts, they purged between courses. I hope it is not difficult to recognize that such behavior is disordered. The more general point I am trying to make is that although we find pleasure in exercising our sexual powers, pleasure is not their purpose; it only provides a motive for using these powers, and a dangerous one, too, which may at times conflict with their true purposes and steer us wrong. Besides, to think of pleasure as the purpose of intercourse is to treat our bodies merely as tools for sending agreeable sensations to our minds. They are of inestimably greater dignity than that, for they are part of what we are.

Why? What kind of man would pleasure his woman by hurting her.' Angus paced across the path. ''Tis a man's duty, nay, his privilege, to give his woman all the pleasure she can bear. She should be panting and writhing with pleasure.' Emma remained silent, staring at him. Did she not believe him? He walked toward her. 'A real man would take all night if need be to make sure his woman was fully sated. She should be screaming that she canna endure any more.' Emma's eyes widened. 'It should be a man's greatest pleasure to see his woman shuddering in the throes of passion.' She took a deep breath and shifted her weight from one foot to another. He paced back and forth. 'Only when she is begging for him should a man see to his own needs. And he should never, ever harm her.' He stopped in front of her 'Am I totally wrong in this?' 'No,' she squeaked.

Will you dance for me? Let your breasts roam for a moment -- I need to see how they dance.' 'Okay.' She danced, and as she danced, she tried to think of the most delicious salads she could imagine -- with artichokes and sundried tomato and blue cheese dressing, and beets, lots of beets.

Wine?" I asked, ready to order. "I’d rather have Sex on the Beach." He winked at me with a devilish grin.

With a low sound, he moved against her so that her backside was flush with his hips and she could feel every inch of him through his boxers. There were a lot of inches.

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.

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.

Without 'consent' in any human interactions, there's an ethical violation.

Without feeling so close, so connected, so comfortable to a person for what I have sex.

With regards to getting laid and getting AIDS: Being interesting can be an interesting guy’s downfall.

With right fashion, every female would be a flame.

With tybo men there isn't much difference between fucking and killing.

With the overall emphasis on condemnation comes a covertly oppressive message of grace. Mary recalls, “The leader of my women’s Bible study is an ordained clergywoman. She told us that no one’s gone to hell for having sex before marriage. If we ’fall off the wagon,’ just repent.” While this kind of message seems to help balance the Puritanical influence, it falls short of affirming sexual desire and its satisfaction for the single woman. The need to repent still declares that her participation in sexual activity is sinful without exception. This declaration is proving to be false and oppressive, sending the single African American woman on an endless sin/ repent merry-go-round of wondering if G ~ d is pleased with her. This woman’s sexual desire is normative, and unrelenting. What does G ~ d think of her acts of satisfaction, whether alone or with a partner? Perhaps a church can help by preaching and teaching a message of holistic human goodness.

Wombed in sin darkness I was too, made not begotten. By them, the man with my voice and my eyes and a ghost-woman with ashes on her breath. They clasped and sundered, did the coupler's will.

Women deformed by the pornographic sexual template perceive other women as masturbatory objects.

Women demand a certain amount of cliteracy from men who dive in head first...

Women are born in their own flesh and emotions and are celebrated for knowing it. Men are born in the void and are taught from a very early age to disregard the wisdom of the sensations coursing through their bodies.

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

Women forget all the past moments of the most intimate moments and the good sex when they have the next level of best sex with someone else. They just need someone to take out their hidden fantasies.

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.

Women, he would say, are not Muses. Muses are Muses. To confuse one with the other is to mistake the Devouring Void for the Seminal Light. Earthly Women and the Muses are ancient, sworn enemies. The battlefield is the Creative Male. On the one side is the encampment of Discordia, of Diana, of Venus located in his Heart and in his Groin. On the other is the Bastion of Calliope, Clio, Erato, Euterpe, Melpomene, Polyhymnia, Terpsichore, Thalia and Urania, in his Brain and in his Mind. The Muses are tolerant and understanding of border raids, skirmishes, and harassing maneuvers. Throughout the history of the Male Light, there have been few painters, few writers, who have not had a She Who Must Be Accommodated. For some it was their mothers. For many their wives, their mistresses, their girlfriends. For many it was their daughters, a favourite waitress, a stripper, a whore. To the Muses, they are all one. Mother, whore, wife, daughter, stripper, waitress, mistress, girlfriend.

Women use sex to get love. Men use love to get sex.

Women were gravitating towards him from all directions like a planetary orbit. (Zoe on meeting Justus)

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.

Women killed Hungry Joe. His response to them as sexual beings was one of frenzied worship and idolatry. They were lovely, satisfying, maddening manifestations of the miraculous, instruments of pleasure too powerful to be measured, too keen to be endured, and too exquisite to be intended for employment by base, unworthy man. He could interpret their naked presence in his hands only as a cosmic oversight destined to be rectified speedily, and he was driven always to make what carnal use of them he could in the fleeting moment or two he felt he had before Someone caught wise and whisked them away. He could never decide whether to furgle them or photograph them, for he had found it impossible to do both simultaneously. In fact, he was finding it almost impossible to do either, so scrambled were his powers of performance by the compulsive need for haste that invariably possessed him. The pictures never came out, and Hungry Joe never got in.

Women may show some discrimination about whom they sleep with, but they'll marry anybody.

Women take a much larger risk, evolutionarily speaking, when they have sex. Sex is also a much larger investment for women than it is for men. For this reason, women have emotional circuitry designed to take this into account. For example, women tend to experience much more anxiety just prior to sex with a new lover.

Women who are not boring have realized that men do not like sex as much as it is generally believed.

Words streamed from my mouth, some familiar, some not. The last of the were, "I love you." He rose up off me with a grin. "If I'd known it was that easy to get you to admit how you feel, I would have done this a long time ago.

Work on making yourself a complete being. Though you were born with the physical traits of one sex, you possess the characteristics of both - including those of plants and animals. You were created as a nearly complete universal being, but with flaws. True perfection can only be achieved when one recognizes that they need to combine their oneness with others and nature. Only then is one considered complete.

Words to feed your passion. Thought to stoke your flickering embers. I see your unseen fires & feed it with my timber.

Would three boobs be better than two?

Wrap him up in floral wallpaper, wishing the envelopes I seal were his lips, leaving hickeys like stamps to show where he's been.

Wow,” Wesley said. We were lying in his bed only a few minutes after we’d finished, with a foot or more space between our bodies. “I definitely wasn’t expecting that.” God, he ruined everything when he talked. Annoyed, and still wading through the emotional repercussions, I sneered. “What? Ashamed that you screwed the Duff?” “No.” I was surprised by how serious he sounded. “I’m never ashamed of anyone I sleep with. Sex is a natural chemical reaction. It always happens for a reason. Who am I to dictate who experiences the joy of sharing my bed?” He didn’t see me roll my eyes as he continued. “No, I just meant that I’m shocked. I was honestly starting to believe that you hated me.” “I do hate you,” I assured him, kicking off the covers and moving to pick up my clothes. “You must not hate me too much,” Wesley said, rolling onto his elbow and watching me dress. “You did pretty much throw yourself at me. Generally, hatred doesn’t inspire that kind of passion.” I pulled on my T-shirt. “Believe me, Wesley, I definitely hate you. I was just using you. You use people all the time, so I’m sure you understand.” I buttoned my jeans and grabbed my alligator clip from the nightstand. “This was fun, but if you ever tell anyone, I swear I’ll castrate you.

Wow. I didn't think I'd ever see you like that." Cam trembled; he couldn't help it. He felt like his body was not his own. "Like what?" "So..." Sasha seemed to search for the right word. "Involved, maybe? On-screen, you all seem kinda cold. I guess I figured you'd done it all before." Cam took a moment to gather himself. A phrase came to him, and he allowed himself a wry grin. "It's not the same. That's work, even if it's one of my friends. This is real sex.

Would you like to sit?" Kellen asked her. "You'd better do it soon," Owen whispered close to her ear, "or I'm going to bend you over that table and break the club's no-penetration-in-the-lounge rule.

Writing poetry is like having sex with the universe and the language is just a condom.

Writhing bodies fused as one on the dance floor, limbs tingling, lungs drunk on the lust-filled air.

ya better come inside when you're ready to but no chance if ya don't wanna dance you like four letter words when you're ready to but then you won't 'cos you know that you can

Yep, I was so mature, I decided I would just have to reward myself by doing the naked lambada with a Federal Agent.

Yeshua’s (Jesus’) very life and ministry demonstrate the mutual and respectful existence of divinity and humanity within each person.