Graze on my lips; and if those hills be dry, stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.
Erotic intelligence stretches far beyond a repertoire of sexual techniques. It is an intelligence that celebrates curiosity and play, the power of the imagination, and our infinite fascination with what is hidden and mysterious.
We lie in each other's arms eyes shut and fingers open and all the colors of the world pass through our bodies like strings of fire.
The most erotic zone is the imagination.
I will cover you with love when next I see you, with caresses, with ecstasy. I want to gorge you with all the joys of the flesh, so that you faint and die. I want you to be amazed by me, and to confess to yourself that you had never even dreamed of such transports.... When you are old, I want you to recall those few hours, I want your dry bones to quiver with joy when you think of them.
No erotic work of art is filth if it is artistically significant; it is only turned into filth through the beholder if he is filthy.
So sweet and delicious do I become, when I am in bed with a man who, I sense, loves and enjoys me, that the pleasure I bring excels all delight, so the knot of love, however tight it seemed before, is tied tighter still.
Some people underestimate how erotic it is to be understood.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body... and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, hunting for you, for your hot heart, like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
With her eyes alone she could give this response, this absolutely erotic response, as if febrile waves were trembling there, pools of madness... something devouring that could lick a man all over like a flame, annihilate him, with a pleasure never known before.
The erotic is a measure between the beginnings of our sense of self and the chaos of our strongest feelings.
Eros seizes and shakes my very soul like the wind on the mountain shaking ancient oaks.
Her lips on his could tell him better than all her stumbling words.
For a woman there is nothing more erotic than being understood.
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Madness, mayhem, erotic vandalism, devastation of innumerable souls - while we scream and perish, History licks a finger and turns the page.
My slender waist and thighs are exhausted and weak from a night of cloud dancing.
Most of us will get turned on at night by the very same things that we will demonstrate against during the day - the erotic mind is not very politically correct.
Any closer would unravel her mystery, the very thing which made her so truly beautiful...It was her mystery that he adored. He was in love with everything that he did not know about her... No real sexual encounter could ever match the secret one that he could nurture in his imagination... No living flesh could ever be the erotic equal of flesh kept private, untouchable and unknowable
Erotic play discloses a nameless world which is revealed by the nocturnal language of lovers. Such language is not written down. It is whispered into the ear at night in a hoarse voice. At dawn it is forgotten.
Behind every erotic condemnation there's a burning hypocrite.
In my sex fantasy, nobody ever loves me for my mind.
Classic romantic love is an emotional attraction between two individuals in which they may share a heightened awareness of mutual adoration. Erotic love, traditionally, has been described as shared sexual attraction.
Fondling,' she saith, 'since I have hemm'd thee here Within the circuit of this ivory pale, I'll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer; Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale: Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry, Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.
I could bring you so much pleasure, erotic, erotic, put your hands all over my body.
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