Best 865 quotes in «lust quotes» category

Nothing turned a man on faster than a woman that couldn't get enough of what he had to offer.

Now do you understand why I'm interested in you? You're a locked door, sweetheart. You give no one a key and you never answer the door when anyone knocks...Ah, but sometimes, sometimes I get a peek through the keyhole and what I find there...It's like glimpsing you as you're stripping. Underneath all of that darkness is something hungry, something desperate, something, oh, so deliciously vulnerable.

Now it is quite true to say that curiosity, exactly like its analogue, lust, never ends and is never satisfied; but man was made for something more than this. He was made to rise, above curiosity and lust, to love, and through love to the attainment of truth.

Oh, I know that she's disgusted, cause she's feeling so abused. She gets tired of the lust, but it's so hard to refuse.

Oh, she was okay, just tired, tired of trying to be the one you wanted, the one you couldn't live without, the one you found yourself reaching out an arm for as she teetered from crisis to crisis to crisis only to collapse in your bed at the end of the day, a tortured sylph in black lace. Except she never really was. And you never really did. Or maybe you did for one night. The next night was another matter. It turned out the world was filled with beautiful girls. It turned out being beautiful wasn't nearly enough

Okay, listen to me one more time. I find you very beautiful, and I'm not going to be some guy who leaves you hanging like that idiot did yesterday evening. I am willing to show you what a real woman can do to please you in every way." Jana stood they're just looking at Angel dumbstruck, unsure what to say. She just thought of what to say next, but nothing came to words. Jana sat on the couch without a word. Angel sat next to her. "I am sorry for being so honest with you. But since I met you yesterday evening, I just can't and won't let my feelings go without knowing." She sighed. She just wished Jana could feel the same about her as she did about Jana. Jana looked at Angel. Her eyes were full of questions. "Why me? Out of all the women in this world, you choose me. I'm nothing compared to anyone else and my best friend Destiny has the life I want and crave for." Angel smiled and hugged Jana. She didn’t try to leave her embrace. Angel counted that as a small win. "That is where you are blind on. Women that are friends or couples can have all that as well. Please, just give me a chance to show you and will go from there." Jana took a deep breath looking down at her hands. She was still deciding if she should accept Angel’s suggestion. "Are you sure about this? I mean we just met, and I am not sure what to think of all this? I wouldn't even know what to tell anyone that knows me?" Angel placed a finger over Jana's lips responding, "We can keep it hidden, do you agree? I just want what is best for you and me, for us. I have never been attracted to a straight woman before, but you took my breath away.

Oh, wind and rain may haunt me, Look to the north and pray. Send me, please, his kisses; Send them home today. I'm begging Jesus, 'Please, Send his love to me!' Left alone in desert, This house becomes a hell, This love becomes a tether, This room becomes a cell. Mummy, Daddy, please, Send him back to me! How long must I suffer? Dear God, I've served my time. This love becomes my torture; This love, my only crime. Oh, lover, please release me. My arms too weak to grip, My eyes too dry for weeping, My lips too dry to kiss. Calling Jesus, 'Please, Send his love to me!

O, it's die we must, but it's live we can, And the marvel of earth and sun Is all for the joy of woman and man And the longing that makes them one.

Once I had a wild fling on an otherwise boring weekend holiday in Edinburgh, with a guy I met who turned out to be a psychiatrist. He agreed with me, after hours and hours of our naked cavorting in a hotel, that I was a sex addict; although he did stress he wouldn’t change me for the world. It turned him on that I was so sexual, and we turned a dull weekend in a grey city into something wonderful for the two of us. So, what was the problem?

One might—if one were, say, a gay sex writer—make a case that there's still a vibrant role for queer dirty words. While highly commodified mass-market DVD porn and its kinkier "specialty" cousins shows how sex looks, erotic texts are still the best mode to convey how sex—and its pesky cousin, desire—feels, and what it all means.

our foundation is rocky because we made a home in each other’s skin. the damage is beginning to show.

On one side of his brain, logic was standing on a chair, waving its arms to get his attention. On the other side, lust and yearning rubbed their hands together in unholy anticipation.

Our souls stretched across time, spanning the universe in search of each other and suddenly, there it was...life, love, desire, all we had to do was indulge...

Passion is life and delights await those whose soul lusts for new experiences. Every breath should stir deep, simmering desire for those who incite torrid urges and send blood coursing through fevered veins. Throw each shiver hard against unyielding rock, salaciously invade the soft pleasures whose ripe lips hunger for satisfaction, demanding the flame be fanned and thirst be quenched…Demand no less, take no prisoners…

O woman, thou art my imperfection!

Partly James was jealous because he was a virgin, but mostly it just felt really weird being in a room with two people who'd spent the night having sex. It reminded him of the feeling you get when you pull a hair off your tongue and realise it's not one of your own.

Pain is poison to the body. Worry is toxic to the mind. Yearning is venom to the heart. Lust is poison to the soul.

Passion gives you what you want, lust gives you what you desire, but only love gives you what you need.

Patience is the cornerstone to becoming an amazing lover.

Perhaps that's the whole point about infidelity, I suggested, not that one has sex but that by doing so one puts at risk someone else's happiness?

Piper’s lust was like a single bear trap in the wilderness. It was nearly impossible to find if you were looking for it, but it was something you wanted to be prepared for if you stepped into it by accident.

Poetry is jealous of you tonight, for as soon as I come to pen a few words, your perfume attacks me in the most civilised manner and I forget myself. I forget the poem. I forget the ...

Pleasure is a kind servant, but a cruel master.

Pornography is anything that depicts lewdness in such a way as to create impure thoughts and lusts. However, the sewers continue to flow, destroying the moral fabric of our society.

Portland was a dream both in the literal sense and the metaphorical sense, both tangible and not - a fleeting affair you want to hold on to but can't, so you try memorizing her every detail only to fail to do so in the consumption, in the savoring, in the absorbing of yourself into her. When she's gone, she comes to you in snippets, replaying in your mind like a fragmented picture show.

Power comes at a price, love," Veliss replied through bared teeth, maintaining the smile she offered to the townsfolk lining the square. "What power?" "All power. The power to rule, to kill, or, in your case this fine morning, the power to incite the lust of the old goat you're about to meet." "Lust? I have no desire to incite lust in anyone." Veliss turned to her with a quizzical expression, her smile suddenly genuine. "Then I'm afraid you're in for a lifetime of disappointment.

Pulling away, I realized I had no place to go and nothing I wanted to do except satisfy my curiosity about a woman who was coming on like gangbusters and a big load of grief.

Probability of helping someone with your tongue is low

Pure pleasure is than mere pleasure.

...remember after every autumn, the flora senses the rapturous kiss of cheerful spring. (Book-Love Vs Destiny)

Relying on one person can make you dull so broaden your outlook, find new friends and have new experiences...Life is waiting for you to live...

Sexuality should be accompanied by understanding and love. Without understanding and love, sex is empty.

[Satan] has hundreds of agents writing pornographic literature and producing sex movies to pollute [the mind]. He has intellectuals in high positions teaching a hedonistic and permissive philosophy . . .They lack an anchor for their real self.

Seduce yourself first.

Sex-centered magazines litter our newsstands . . . each edition trying to escape new laws from the bottom of the sewers. We put lids on sewer holes. Ought we not to do something about the pornography which is spewing out a polluted river of filth which can destroy us faster than any chemical pollution we seem so worried about?7

She'd been mad for him as a girl, but she'd chalked that up to youthful infatuation. She'd tracked the events of his life religiously for a decade, but she'd told herself that was idle curiosity. And now... now she desired him so much she could scarcely stand, but surely that was only lust. Wasn't it?

Salma had read books where couples kissed, spoke in platitudes or come-ons; something about to happen, hinted at. Beyond that there was always only a white space on the page. A gap between paragraphs. She had thought often about what went on there. On the other side, when the letters appeared once more, couples smoke and drank tea or dressed one another or themselves. If there was a book to be written about Margot it should be blank; it would be those sex spaces between lines, sucked clean of words.

Seeing her made me feel like I was catching a rarity, going up to it very careful, heart-in-mouth as they say.

See the passion kiss the lips. Don't let this person slip by. They've given you a lustful heart. An emotional gift.

Sex is sacred if performed as a culmination of love, if done just to satisfy the lust, it indeed dents the character.

She called herself Starla, Queen of the Nile, and she had me from the first moment I saw her walk onto that stage. She wore nine-inch-heels and a dress that shone in the multi-colored lighting, glimmering through the haze created by the smoke machines and cigarettes.

She had always thought the word 'pheromones' made it sound as though molecules were floating in the air, shaped like little fluted horns, ready to attach themselves to the nearest target. Microscopic Edison phonographs flying about, their brassy mouths puckered to sucker onto bare unsuspecting skin. These were what he sent out to her. The pheromones. The eyeless babies of energy.

She had seen this relationship dying before it ever lived, but allowed optimism and lust to blind her.

She is the nymph who keeps enticing me the sailor every time!

She raised her head when she heard my step, and her gaze met my own, over the matron's dipping shoulder, and her eyes grew bright. I knew then how hard it had been to keep, not just from Millbank but from her. I felt that little quickening. It was just as I imagine a woman must feel, when the baby within her gives its first kick. Does it matter if I feel that, that is so small, and silent, and secret?

She realised with every inch of her being that she wanted Freya; she was in love with Freya. Her mind, with its perfectly rational arguments, had list the battle with her heart. She felt it. It was real. The conflict was torture.

She grabbed his hair and pulled his mouth tighter against her lips. She wanted to possess and devour him.

She felt him smile against her neck and bit down, the sensation sending shivers through her. “Bad girl. If you keep doing that, I’ll have you stripped and on your back before you can blink.

She had to remember not to look at him when he smiled like that.

She is the nymph who keeps enticing me the sailor evey time!