Best 7189 quotes in «sex quotes» category

You know, a cell phone's like a guy; if you don't plug him in every night, charge him good, you got nothing at all.

You know how selfish that sounds right?” he says. “Why?” I turn back to him. “Because men always get what they want? Why should I have to give you more?” “So how is it fair that I give you exactly what you want and I don’t get what I want?” “What haven’t I given you? Think long and hard before you answer, because you came your brains out last night.” “I—” “Yeah. It’s simple gender inequality, my guy,” I say in that voice Brooklyn always does to make me laugh. “I still don't follow.” “Men expect certain things and usually they get them, but I say fuck that. I almost never get what I want in life. I get some things, but almost everything, even the shit I work really hard for? I know I would get even more if I were a man. Especially a white man.” (pp. 190-191, Kindle Edition)

You keep looking at me like that and we won't make it through dinner. I'll take you right there on that counter. No doubt you'd taste better.

You know how it is - some hot guys don't make your hormones go crazy, while some unattractive guys have massive sex appeal. This guy had it all.

You know, we can still put that suit to use, though.” I glanced toward the truck and Lock’s face lit up as I closed the distance between us. “What happened to needing a shower?” “Showers are overrated,” I whispered, holding his gaze through the visor. “Plus,” I turned my head to look down the hall, “Jay is down there now.” “That’d be right. Let me just hang up my hat.” He was pulling away when I caught his wrist. “Nuh-uh. Keep the helmet. I want to be with my firefighter.

You know, sex at seventy-six is getting very dangerous for my health ... since I live at seventy-nine!

You know, I'm not even sure how we ended up living together." "I am," Jake said, turning back to the lake. "Sex. It's a powerful force, my boy, and women use it." "Is that why you gave them up?" Will asked, sympathetically. "Did paranoia drive you to celibacy?

You know, when I see a good-looking man, the first thing I think about is sex. I want to see him naked, and I imagine running my hands impatiently over his hot body. I can’t help it: it’s just how I am.

You know what she's made of." "Yeah, good stock, good breeding, a hard head and a hunger to win." She flashed him a smile as they approached the kitchen door. "I've been told that describes me. I'm half Irish, Brian, I was born stubborn." "No arguing with that. A person might make the world a calmer place for others by being passive, but you don't get very far in it yourself, do you?" "Look at that. We have a foundation of agreement. Now tell me you like spaghetti and meatballs." "It happens to be a favorite of mine." "That's handy. Mine, too. And I heard a rumor that's what's for dinner." She reached for the doorknob, then caught him off guard by brushing a light kiss over his lips. "And since we'll be joining my parents, it would probably be best if you didn't imagine me naked for the next couple of hours." She sailed in ahead of him, leaving Brian helplessly and utterly aroused.

You know, you're too pretty for me to leave you on the couch like that," he said, pulling me toward him. I didn't know that, but I did understand then that there was no such thing as safe, only safer; that this, if it didn't happen now, would happen later but not better.

You'll let me put a total stranger's piss hose in my mouth while my knees scream in agony on the hard floor? Right here in from of everyone? Gosh, such a hard thing to pass up. But you know, I'd rather eat Ebola pudding than let your sad little dick near me." She wiggled her fingers as she slipped past him. "Toodles" Oh, he needed to tap that.

You love that, don't you?" I growled. "Being hammered by my cock... you must think you're in... fucking... heaven." Punctuation by cock thrust - the very best kind.

You may have noticed we have no sex lives. As a result there's lots of chocolate in this house.

You may know where to touch her, but that doesn't mean you know how to touch her. Take time to learn what she truly desires.

You may be theoretically rich but practically poor.

You might think your pussy is the wrong color or the wrong shape or the wrong size, but when a man looks at it, all he sees is heaven. Trust me, he's not worried about whether your lips are symmetrical. He's just counting his lucky stars to see you naked. It's very difficult for a man to understand why a woman would be so self-conscious about her hooha.

You might think that Darren and Claire were hoping for the best as they had sex over and over again at the height of their young blossoming fertility, or that they were blind to the likely consequence of their incessant coupling.

You misquote me. It's NOT "Aah." It's "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

You must be a blast on long car rides.” “Oh, I am. You haven't experienced fun until you try to fuck in the front seat of a Civic.

You must take care to know once you enter her you are merging worlds. You are reaffirming a sacred agreement of eternal connectivity. Her energy centers will be connected with yours. Your intentions must be the purest to maintain this kind of cosmic sacred connection. You will be connected on every level seen and unseen. You both will become witness to the universe at play. The cosmic etheric dance of devotion. Two existences intermingle creating a third existence of oneness with tantric overtones and harmonics.

You never hear widows voice the sentiment, but I could stave off companionship indefinitely. Sex, not so much.

You poor dear! Imagine having to wear Mark’s trousers! He’s a lovely lad, but I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone. God only knows who’s been in them!

You picked a man who can read tax code and date a celibate for two years. That's some serious patience. I have zero doubt in my ability to wait you out. I have zero doubt that you're meant to be my girl.

Your alternate dimension keeps crashing into this one & love's got me experiencing symptoms without ever getting sick of you.

Your body wages biological warfare on me.

You really are young, aren't you, Blondie? You know how the game is played—people'll say anything in the heat of the moment.

You're a man, man. That means seeing two rocks on the ground that kind of look like tits will arouse you.

...you're dazzling. I'm dazzled, I'm upside down and inside out and...God, Vivian. I don't know what to say. There aren't words. I just want to crawl back under the blanket and spend my life doing that with you. And everything else we did today.

You're flattered because he wants to sleep with you? Who doesn't he want to sleep with?

You're into what you're into, I'm into what I'm into. We don't have to be into the same shit, and if you're safe, sane, and happy, then go on and get you some.

Your embrace feels like slipping the key in the front door.

You're going to need this," she said, and pulled out a condom. "At some point, we're also going to need a defibrillator and a fire extinguisher." "Promises, promises.

You're never too old to laugh at stories about love and sex.

You're not celibate, then?" I breathe. Amusement lights up his eyes. "No, Anastasia, I'm not celibate.

You're the only kick-ass general I know who needs three gay boys to dress him, John." "But I only need one gay boy to undress me.

You're too beautiful for just a one night stand.

you're quite wrong there, Collie. One does miss sex. The body has a life of it's own. We do miss what we haven't had, you and I. Biologically. Ask Sigmund Freud. It is revealed in dreams. The absent touch of warm limbs at night, the absent

Your eyes border on the miraculous the way they resurrect my smile.

You’re wet already, Stella. You’re like a Lamborghini. Zero to sixty in two point seven seconds.

You're so... You're too... You're..." He faltered, then took a deep breath. "I have no words for you, Sita. You leave me speechless." I smiled and pinched his buttock so he twitched. "Speechless? Gods, I've broken you. I never would have deemed it possible to render you speechless.

Your eyes have fingers that grip me by the collar of my soul & pull me into you.

Your generation has been the target of incredible disinformation on the subject of premarital sex, which is another enticing addictive behavior to be considered. In this instance, our own government is responsible for much of the confusion. For some thirty years, federal and state programs have promoted a concept its promoters call "safe sex," which refers to the use of condoms in sexual intercourse. Billions of dollars have been spent telling young people that they can have sex—lots of really good sex—without suffering from the consequences of it. Condoms, they say, will solve all the problems.

Your hormones are smarter than you are.

Your imagination and some masturbation is a much better alternative to finding out what kind of person a bit of casual sex transforms you into.

You ride well, but you don't kiss nicely at all.

Your love and your love of literature, like song, should flow seamlessly in an unbroken rhythm.

--You're rather well read for a working-class girl, she said with her back to me. --Really? I've found that all my well-read friends are from the working class. --Oh my. Why do you think that is? The purity of poverty? --No. It's just that reading is the cheapest form of entertainment. --Sex is the cheapest form of entertainment. --Not in this house.

Your spot on someone's schedule speaks volumes...

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.

You self-proclaimed "MILF" hunters have it all wrong -- we aren't the prey, YOU are. You are but a Service Male - a SMILF!