Best 865 quotes in «lust quotes» category

I love and I lust and it really doesn’t matter if they love me back because sometimes that’s what love is.

I love being aroused. I love how that feeling overcomes me, as I look at a man’s erect cock, as I feel his hands ripping my clothes from my body, as the air caresses my naked skin, and how I feel like I’m blossoming like a flower.

I love being aroused. I relish that delicious feeling of freedom, the delirium of being naked, and my flesh being born again. It’s like I’m being made new.

I love men. Rather, I love little parts of their bodies, not the perfect parts, but rather their odd features and their unique traits that make of them stand out of this cookie cutter world we live in. Throw a name at me, and I can instantly tell you which feature makes my heart go thumpedy-thump. Cropper Rowe: lucious, mocha brown-colored mole on the back of his neck. Derek: long yet narrow sideburns. Thorsten: thick nose, which he broke skiing. Milo: jet black hair, slicked back to reveal forehead and a small dimple. Vincent: lower jawline as it curves up to his ears and the way his stubble grows on it. Thayer: his waist and how he wears his jeans low enough to expose his appendectomy scar. And I love Eugene's eyes. Not that they are clear blue, but that they have a kind shape. It sounds cliché, but they are soft, and when I look into them, I feel I've known him forever. The sadness still lingers deep inside them, but he smiles a lot. Maybe I'm mistaken and life has been kind to him. Maybe he's the positive kind of fellow for whom smiling comes easily, despite it all.

I love you deeply and in the future, I may love you more however, that does not occasionally preclude me from plotting your death by shooting you, chopping you up and feeding you to the wolves...

I love you madly, forever.

I may not be perfect but I am as close as you will get to heaven...

I'm crazy about him and I'm crazy without him!

I’m in love with my corporate girlfriend, with the Cyclops heart

I'm just not going to do it so that we can say that we've done it. And I'm not going to do it if the first thing you say afterwards is 'please don't tell anyone' or 'let's forget it ever happened'. If you have to keep something secret it's because you shouldn't be doing it in the first place!

I'm nineteen tree rings and mashed acorns stop up my veins when I can't clot. Oh god, you beautiful person, I'll let you lick the salt off of my tattoos as if they were wounds, wounds made of ink and stories.

I’m pretty sure battle strategies and combat techniques don’t cover desire and lust.

I’m starving to learn more about her. A new hunger that I know only she could satisfy.

In the cities of the European Franks, women roam about exposing not only their faces, but also their brightly shining hair (after their necks, their most attractive feature), their arms, their beautiful throats, and even, if what Ive heard is true, a portion of their gorgeous legs; as a result, the men of those cities walk about with great difficulty, embarrassed and in extreme pain, because, you see, their front sides are always erect and this fact naturally leads to the paralysis of their society. Undoubtedly, this is why each day the Frank infidel surrenders another fortress to us Ottomans.

In my defence, I was asleep when I fell in love with your boyish charm, hot lips and even hotter touch. What was I to do but continue falling...

In the face of legalized pornography, the conscience of America seems to be paralyzed. More serious than our fakery in art, literature, and pictures is the collapse of our moral standards and the blunting of our capacity as a nation for righteous indignation.

In the first place , I was removed from all the wickedness of the world here. I had neither the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, or the pride of life. I had nothing to covet; for I had all that I was now capable of enjoying.

I never expected to fall in love. I never expected to float or fall a thousand feet and create the crevice I called my life. But the thing with crevices, there’s always a top and always a bottom. And the feeling of appreciation when you look from the top and understand how fast it can all come crashing down — it’s more than beautiful and more than words could ever explain.

Intentionally, or unintentionally, Kat had spoken with her eyes; tenderly and lovingly conveying a message to Freya that her tongue wouldn't let her speak. It was glaringly obvious they both felt it. The words were not important. The pauses, gazes, and drawn out breaths were what mattered.

In the morning, that moment, when I knew it was you. When I could feel you breathing and we opened our eyes at the exact same time.

In your mind you are cheating somebody, but in reality you are cheating yourself.

Io, Europa, Ganimedes puer, atque Calisto lascivo nimium perplacuere Iovi. (Io, Europa, the boy Ganymede, and Callisto greatly pleased lustful Jupiter.) [Marius naming Jupiter's moons]

I pop, I break, I love and I crave, but when push comes to shove, we’re done.

I pushed her shiny blond hair away from her face and leaned down, our faces only inches apart. She inhaled softly, our lips so close I could feel her breath and the scent of her skin, like honeysuckle in springtime. She smelled like sweet tea and old books, like she had always been here. I pulled my fingers through her hair and held it at the back of her neck. Her skin was soft and warm, like a Mortal girl's. There was no electric current, no shocks. We could kiss for as long as we wanted. If we had a fight, there wouldn't be a flood or a hurricane, or even a storm. I wouldn't find her on the ceiling of her bedroom. No windows would shatter. No exams would catch fire. Liv held up her face to be kissed. She wanted me.

I slept with her because she was hot and wanted me. Maybe we're dealing with the supernatural, but I'm still human.

I sit there bloodless And my lust, too It rings

Is this how Julia Roberts' character feels like in Pretty Woman? Two parts princess, one part whore?

Is there no easy way to taking this dress off you? Am I going to have to rip it off?

. . . I still wouldn't be able to control myself around him, and I'm math geek enough to know that equation doesn't work out.

I stood in front of him, frustratedly imagining his naked muscular chest, and wanting his hot cock to spear me. My nipples were aroused, feeling as hard and long as coat hooks. They prodded fiercely through the thin blue material at him, like little calling signs of how horny and ready for sex I was. The best advertisement of all: erect nipples!

I swivel my back to her, my eyes gluttonous and eager to get their fill of this intimate piece of what has come to be her puzzle.

I studied his face, and as I did, I realized that he was studying me, our thoughts tangling in mid-air for a moment.

I still couldn’t banish the image of the Quetzal Flower. In my mind, it merged with that of Priestess Eleuia: everything a man could desire or aspire to, a woman who would suck the marrow from your bones and still leave you smiling.

I talk a lot about the value of lust in my book. No, don't freak out! The concept is simply about helping you understand the psychology of being an irresistible woman. There is more to life when we learn how to see lust as a tool of wisdom rather than as the devil's most favorite weapon to deceive and destroy the world. This is the next level of thinking. Are you ready for a paradigm shift?

It has always been a mark of decaying civilizations to become obsessed with sex. When people lose their way, their purpose, their will, and their goals, as well as their faith . . . they go “a whoring.” It is a form of diversion that requires no thought, no character, and no restraint.

It is a source of encouragement that many homosexuals report being transformed through the power of the Gospel.

I think it’s easy to confuse love with other things. Lust, for one. Need, for another

I thought to myself how we were so wrapped up in this animal act, that he couldn’t care less about his tea shop business, and I couldn’t care less about my job. That’s real sex that is, real passion: where you abandon all your boringly sensible thoughts, and all that tediously responsible side of yourself, as you give yourself to what you know really matters more, deep in the core of you: frantic sex.

I think we live in a culture of cruelty. What else can you call it?” -Shenita Etwaroo

It made me giddy. It made me blush, worse than before. It was like liquor. It made me drunk. I drew away. When her breath came now upon my mouth, it came very cold. My mouth was wet, from hers. I said, in a whisper, 'Do you feel it?

It is in the nature of things that something when started cannot be reversed. Like getting attracted to someone. When the feelings are strong and the fire is lit then nothing can be ever reversed.

It is in the nature of things that something when started cannot be reversed. Like getting attracted to someone. When the feelings are strong and the fire is lit then nothing can be ever reversed. So don't start the fire if you are not ready!

It is when I find my soul is lost and lustfully wandering betwixt heaven and hell, and in that moment of spiritual bliss when the chances of recovering from falling into the sexual abyss are zero... I find the odds extremely appealing....

I took the plug out of the chemical bath of lust that my wits were soaking in and waited for it to empty. I smoked a cigarette while I contemplated the return of reason.

It is possible to rethink love and unlearn lust.

I told him your loins were clearly burning, and he should man up and make a move." "You did not!" "I did. And if he doesn't, then I suggest you jump his bones." ... I finally register what he's wearing. It's a handsome skinny black suit with a shiny sheen. The pants are too short - on purpose, of course - exposing his usual pointy shoes and a pair of blue socks that match my dress exactly. And I totally want to jump him.

I traced a finger along my bottom lip as I wondered what his erection would look like, and how I should seduce him. I thought what kind of approach would work best: whether to go in slow and seductively, or whether I should make him notice me in some hard and fast way.

It's always easier to avoid temptation than to resist it.

It seemed he was the perfect lover, at least for the moment. He did not live where you lived. He did not see you often enough, or for long enough, for you to grow bored, or to feel afraid that you were not feeling love---or worse, that you were. The perfection had a cost, which is that he was not in any true sense a real person. He was a coat you bought off the rack, an unsuperlative fashion statement.

It's just sexual tension. Hardcore, animalistic, lick his body all over, sexual tension. - Norah