Best 565 quotes in «erotica quotes» category

A fan is like the thighs of a woman: It opens and closes. A good fan opens with a flick of the wrist. It produces its own weather---a breeze not so strong as to muss the hair.

Abby stood nervously before her Master in the classic submissive pose: fully nude, legs apart, wrists placed behind her back; deeply ashamed of her evident arousal. Worse, she had to recount in exact detail the proceedings of her last whipping. The whipping had been severe; as was the case with most of the clients she was commissioned to serve. Most of these clients were men, some were women, on occasion a couple, or even a group. Nevertheless her body reacted like that of a wanton whore as she retold of the sadistic punishments and extreme sexual use inflicted upon her body. How far would her Master push her with these ‘tests’? How far would Abigail go? How many times could she stand before him blushing; yet with that unmistakable tingle? Their relationship was surely headed for a collision course. Or was it?

A bedroom is not necessary for me to demonstrate my womanliness!

A good relationship is a two-way street, gatita. Submitting and serving is equaled by a master’s need to take control, to protect, to make someone happy.

A girl could get to hate Doms.

Alistair would never reject her, never make her feel ashamed of her desires...never make her hold back.” - Felicity (The Pleasure Room)

Ah, lust. It makes us forget anything we want to. The greatest relaxant, the greatest stimulant.

Aleksander’s feet cut through the fog that had engulfed around them as he kept the two women in his sight. The two ladies moved swiftly along the sidewalk that paved the way through the foggy crowed streets of San Francisco.

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

A little vanilla never hurt anybody.” He nipped her ankle. “Great shoes by the way. Sexy as hell.

All I can feel is your cock inside me, as it slides slowly in and then out of me. You are powerful and imposing as you begin to pick up the pace. You have become the centre of my entire universe. You are everything I can feel, everything I can see, hear and smell; all that I know. This is of course, exactly how you like it and exactly as it should be.

Among my greatest loves is the act of being pinned and invaded – not by one, or two or three, but by many, one after the other. What it is to lose yourself among many, so that your identity exists only as ‘woman’: a goddess of flesh and desire. No names, no promises, no social niceties, no conversational conventions: only lust and fulfillment.” Mademoiselle Noire - in The Gentlemen's Club

All sexual activity performed is at the discretion of the participants and is confined to only one hour.

Although she was beautiful, he knew that that wasn’t enough anymore.

And stop with the playboy title. I simply enjoy the company of beautiful women and ( . )( . ) and (_Y_) That’s tits & ass to the untrained eye. :D

And he calls it playing? Like, whatever happened to chess? Or cards? Or tag?

And her lips: so inviting, bathed in shimmering wet, dark red gloss. They were meant for only two things, kissing and making love to your cock.

And since I am a man, I would appreciate it if you would cry for us both, gatita.

A reaper in a bubble bath? What an affront to the dignity of death.

and the wind gathered the leaves as a mother gathers her children and blew them irrevocably, lovingly, into the haunted wildness

An editor asked me what led me to write erotica. I replied, "A dirty mind, excess words, and an overactive sacral chakra.

An older dom snorted. “Atherton uses the word escort loosely. The last time someone messed with a trainee, he threw the guy across the bar. Strolled over, waited for the idiot to stand up, punched his lights out, and dragged him by his jacket collar out of the place. Escorted him, my ass. Didn’t even wrinkle that fancy suit.” He took a sip of his beer and added, “Atherton is invariably polite, but nobody in their right mind fucks with his trainees.

Any ham-handed idiot can make a woman scream. I prefer to assess…responsiveness.

Approaching the trail, he broke through the thicket a short distance ahead of the Empath. Causing the Empaths horse to startle as the surprised rider jerked on the reins. Cap was equally surprised to find a young girl before him instead of an older, experienced male Empath. Cap brought his horse to a quick halt. The young girl pulled a small knife from her boot and cautioned him. "I don't know where you came from, but I'm not easy prey.” Her voice shook slightly with fear as she raised the knife. Not sure how to proceed, they stared silently at each other. Cap had always believed that Empaths didn't carry weapons. This pretty, chestnut haired girl couldn't be more than 18 years old. Her long straight tresses covered the spot on her jacket where the Empathic Emblem was usually worn, causing Cap to doubt she was the one he sought. Not wanting to frighten her any more than he already had, Cap tried to explain. "I'm Commander Caplin Taylor. I’m looking for an Empath that is headed for the Western Hunting Lodge.” "My name is Kendra; I am the Empath you seek.” She answered cautiously, still holding the blade. A noise from the brush drew her attention as a small rodent pounced out, trying to evade an unseen predator. Cap was just close enough to lurch forward and snatch the dirk from her hand. Her head jerked back in alarm. "Bosen May has been mauled by a Sraeb, his shoulder is a mass of pulp." Cap spoke quickly not wanting to hesitate any longer. That was all Kendra needed to hear. She pushed her horse past him and headed quickly down the trail. "Wait!" Cap called after her, turning his horse around. Reining in the horse, she turned back to face him annoyed by the delay. "Are you a good horseman?" Cap asked, as he stuffed her dirk in his jacket. "I've been in the saddle since I was a child." She answered, abruptly. "Okay so just a few years then?" Cap's rebuke angered her. Jerking the horse back toward the trail, she ignored him. "Wait, I'm sorry!" Cap called after her. "It's just that I know a quicker way, if you can handle some rough terrain." "Let’s go then." Kendra replied, gruffly, turning back to face him. Without another word, Cap dove back into the brush and the girl followed.

Arch your back, Alisa – show me that gorgeous ass. Show me what belongs to me.” Your voice is enthralling; an intoxicating sound of pleasure and authority. I obey willingly, closing my eyes as I do so. I want you to use me. I need you to take what belongs to you. I spread my legs even further apart, using the wall to keep me in place and push my glistening pussy out towards you.

Are you delusional Sonya? Your Robert may not seem to be going through a crisis because he's secretly banging his secretary or whatever other bitch wants to give up that pussy. Don't let him fool you. He's not complaining about you not giving it up because he's getting sniz on the reg

Arrive before your Husband. Not that I can See quite what good arriving first will do; But still arrive before him. When he's taken His place upon the couch and you go too To sit beside him, on your best behavior Stealthily touch my foot, and look at me, Watching my nods, my eyes, my face's language; Catch and return my signals secretly. I'll send a wordless message with my eyebrows; You'll read my fingers' words, words traced in wine. When you recall our games of love together, Your finger on rosy cheeks must trace a line. If in your silent thoughts you wish to chide me, Let your hand hold the lobe of your soft ear; When, darling, what I do or say gives pleasure, Keep turning to an fro the ring you wear. When you wish well-earned curses on your husband, Lay your hand on the table, as in prayer. If he pours you wine, watch out, tell him to drink it; Ask for what you want from the waiter there. I shall take next the glass you hand the waiter And I'll drink from the place you took your sips; If he should offer anything he's tasted, Refuse whatever food has touch his lips. Don't let him plant his arms upon your shoulders, Don't let him rest your gentle head on his hard chest, Don't let your dress, your breasts, admit his fingers, And--most of all--no kisses to be pressed! You kiss--and I'll reveal myself your lover; I'll say 'they're mine'; my legal claim I'll stake. All this, of course I'll see, But what's well hidden under your dress--blind terror makes me quake.

As Angelica opened up her eyes, she shuddered in fear at the massive animal that was holding her and fondling her body. I have been captured by a Bigfoot, she thought. The natives were right. There are Bigfoots in the jungles of Elysia. Her body stiffened as she tried to twist away and out of the imprisoning arms of the massive creature that was holding her capture.

As a writer, I am not opposed to killing off villains. That's not the kind of later biting in the ass I prefer for my protagonist.

A sex worker deserves a billion times more respect, than the mystical fraudsters of the society, such as astrologers, psychics and tarot card readers.

As for woman, she touches herself in and of herself without any need for mediation, and before there is any way to distinguish activity from passivity. Woman touches herself all the time, and moreover no one can forbid her to do so... ~from Red Queen Black Queen

As I am still on duty at this moment, is there anything else I can do for you?” he continues. Images of him kissing me, disrobing me and fondling my entire body fill my mind… I push them away, although I know my face has coloured at the thought. “I have a few suggestions…” I murmur quietly, staring into his smouldering blue eyes. “But I am not sure they fall into a butler’s remit.” “Perhaps you’d be surprised at the lengths I’m prepared to go to in order to keep you happy, madam,” he replies, winking at me.

As I circled the room like a lion about to pounce, another animal, bordering on domestic fucking cat stepped behind Tyler and grabbed her by the waist for a dance. I thought she was going to tell him no thanks, like the others, but instead she looked at me challengingly and accepted the man’s advances.

As I finished my rice, I sketched out the plot of a pornographic adventure film called The Massage Room. Sirien, a young girl from northern Thailand, falls hopelessly in love with Bob, an American student who winds up in the massage parlor by accident, dragged there by his buddies after a fatefully boozy evening. Bob doesn't touch her, he's happy just to look at her with his lovely, pale-blue eyes and tell her about his hometown - in North Carolina, or somewhere like that. They see each other several more times, whenever Sirien isn't working, but, sadly, Bob must leave to finish his senior year at Yale. Ellipsis. Sirien waits expectantly while continuing to satisfy the needs of her numerous clients. Though pure at heart, she fervently jerks off and sucks paunchy, mustached Frenchmen (supporting role for Gerard Jugnot), corpulent, bald Germans (supporting role for some German actor). Finally, Bob returns and tries to free her from her hell - but the Chinese mafia doesn't see things in quite the same light. Bob persuades the American ambassador and the president of some humanitarian organization opposed to the exploitation of young girls to intervene (supporting role for Jane Fonda). What with the Chinese mafia (hint at the Triads) and the collusion of Thai generals (political angle, appeal to democratic values), there would be a lot of fight scenes and chase sequences through the streets of Bangkok. At the end of the day, Bob carries her off. But in the penultimate scene, Sirien gives, for the first time, an honest account of the extent of her sexual experience. All the cocks she has sucked as a humble massage parlor employee, she has sucked in the anticipation, in the hope of sucking Bob's cock, into which all the others were subsumed - well, I'd have to work on the dialogue. Cross fade between the two rivers (the Chao Phraya, the Delaware). Closing credits. For the European market, I already had line in mind, along the lines of "If you liked The Music Room, you'll love The Massage Room.

As I pull down my dress the sudden realisation that I have just brutalised my own twat in the company of others places me in the most perplexing situation that I have ever found myself in.

As I rock down the hall I am flung from my path- snatched and grabbed. Before I can even utter a word, a large palm is covering my mouth. In less than five seconds I am inside a pitch black room, pushed face first into a cold metal door, and I hear the lock snick into place. A heavy weight presses at my back. I didn’t even have time to panic. It was a well-timed attack. My mind flashes to another time and place, another hand on my mouth. I breathe though the panic that tries to overcome me. I allow my senses to put me at ease. He’s just softly breathing near my ear. His body is relaxed. The way he holds me feels more playful than threatening. “Let me guess… the Boss,” I say to the heavy weight at my back. My tone is a mix of amused annoyance.

As I stood there, with the two of them staring at me, I suddenly realised that this was more than just a one-night tryst in a hot tub or a drunken fumble with a horny couple, this was the start of something, an adventure. Not just for me, but for the three of us. We had finally made the jump across a gap that had been holding us back ever since we had met and what boundaries and reservations there had been were now destroyed.

As my mind dwells on the depths I have already sunk into since my arrival less than an hour ago, I approach Shaw’s feet and legs. Unsure of how to proceed, but sure that looking up at him is not an acceptable response, I wait on all fours in front of him, like an untrained animal. I squirm at the prospect that he may be making the same comparison. The hushed and excitable voices of the other men perforate the air around us as Shaw reaches down towards me. I see his left hand in my line of vision and one finger gently moves my face upwards to look at him. I gaze up at him and in this moment I want him more than I have ever wanted any man. I want him to seduce me. I want him to conquer me. I want to be devoured.

A sound from upstairs sends my thought process reeling. It’s just a small noise, perhaps the sound of your feet brushing the crimson carpet in the bedroom? It’s not loud or menacing, but it sends a wave of adrenaline crashing through me. You’re on your way!

As though you read my mind, you steady my head between your hands and eye me intensely. Then your mouth is on mine, hungry and aggressive. Your teeth skim my lips, claiming me and I feel your tongue probing inside of my mouth. The kiss ends as dramatically as it began, leaving me reeling and wanting more.

At that moment, in the temple of her lovers’ tangled limbs, Lea felt the presence of the Divine close by, immanent and imminent — everywhere and everywhen — and it was a sublime feeling, one that made her feel infinitely powerful and infinitely small, both at the same time. A good fuck can make even an agnostic see God — a fact that explained Lea’s parents’ fascination with Tantra, something about which Lea thought as little as possible.

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

A witch so bold would not flinch, no matter how harsh her punishment might be, though his wish was for her to feel every strike.

A woman’s sexuality is not at all like a man’s. A man can literally f**k a watermelon and come. If you put enough friction on his c**k, in some semblance of a rhythm, he will orgasm. It’s a no brainer.

Awww, that's sweet. Nothing says ‘I love you’ like a well-made implement of pain.

Baby, I held back today to let you get over all you've been through. But don't let that mislead you. You wouldn't be here if I planned on protecting you from me.

Because I absolutely, positively cannot fuck you, Lola,” he says like it’s a formal declaration. I furrow my brow and salute him, which makes him snicker.

Be confident in who you are, Cherry Blossom. Confidence and an understanding of who you are is an alluring combination men won't be able to resist.

(...) before they actually admit to the big 'L' word. Love or lust - what's the big, damn deal? You're going to  fuck either way, right?

Ben was in his truck, window down, idling at the curb, dark lenses hiding his eyes from her, looking effortlessly big and badass. The way she wished she felt.