I miss the romance. I keep saying this over and over again, but dance follows music. And if the accent today is percussion and rhythm and loudness, then that is the way the dance numbers will be. But it is pretty hard on romance with seven guitars, three drums, and no melody instruments in the band.
Now I am short on some props, and there isn't nearly enough time in one night to run through all the ways I've fantasized about taking you, but I promise you this..." His voice deepened, "You'll be scandalized in the morning when you can think again.
Sex scenes are always a little uncomfortable at first.
I could not make a move without making love.
The absence of romance from my history will, I fear, detract somewhat from its interest; but if it be judged useful by those inquirers who desire an exact knowledge of the past as an aid to the interpretation of the future, which in the course of human things must resemble if it does not reflect it, I shall be content. In fine, I have written my work, not as an essay which is to win the applause of the moment, but as a possession for all time.
Remember how you made me crazy, remember how I made you scream.
But when I start to kiss someone - lust is the easiest emotion to generate.
She thought she was only seeing him because she wanted to see him... It's a by-product of very dramatic kissing.
Sex in the nineties is boring. The problem is that it has gone from an active act to a spectator sport. We watch people make love on television and in films. We call 900 numbers to hear what someone would do to us if they weren't sitting in a boiler room of other dirty talkers reading from a prepared script.
After a long day of trying, to make my songs pay, making love all day against the wall in the hallway.
About the Saint's amorous adventures, by the way, I can't speak so brazenly.
Writing about sex turns out to be just writing about life.
Don’t worry. It’ll never happen again. You know me, I do date occasionally, but I usually spend at least a few normal, boring days with a guy before we rock the house down. Of course, no one ever rocked my house down the way this guy did. He leveled the mother to its foundations. (Sunshine)
The sex relation is not a personal relation. It can be irresistibly desired and rapturously consummated between persons who could not endure one another for a day in any other relation.
There was scarcely a woman alive, it seemed, who could resist the urge to haul men down onto beds, car seats, kitchen floors, dining-room tables, park grass, parlor sofas, or packing crates, entwine warm thighs around them, and pant in ecstasy.
Love scenes, if genuine, are indescribable; for to those who have enacted them the most elaborate description seems tame, and to those who have not, the simplest picture seems overdone.
Vladimir Nabokov on 'Bleak House' or Henry James on 'The House of the Seven Gables' prove that reading can be an exciting subject in itself, full of passionate encounters, contradictory judgments, striking discoveries, and unexpected reversals.
Love is a clash of lightnings
I was thinking that I should be content to kiss him until the break of day. Bertrand ran out of kisses too soon; desire made them superfluous in his eyes. They were only a stage on the road to pleasure, not something inexhaustible and self-sufficient, as Luc had revealed them to me.
It's a little uncomfortable doing love scenes in armor, but, you know, when the heat's on, the heat's on.
