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“Waiting is erotic”
― irene nemirovsky, Suite Française

“I live for sex.

I celebrate it, and relish the electricity of it, with every fibre of my being.

I can see no better reason for being alive.”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“Consider the capacity of the human body for pleasure. Sometimes, it is pleasant to eat, to drink, to see, to touch, to smell, to hear, to make love. The mouth. The eyes. The fingertips, The nose. The ears. The genitals. Our voluptific faculties (if you will forgive me the coinage) are not exclusively concentrated here. The whole body is susceptible to pleasure, but in places there are wells from which it may be drawn up in greater quantity. But not inexhaustibly. How long is it possible to know pleasure? Rich Romans ate to satiety, and then purged their overburdened bellies and ate again. But they could not eat for ever. A rose is sweet, but the nose becomes habituated to its scent. And what of the most intense pleasures, the personality-annihilating ecstasies of sex? I am no longer a young man; even if I chose to discard my celibacy I would surely have lost my stamina, re-erecting in half-hours where once it was minutes. And yet if youth were restored to me fully, and I engaged again in what was once my greatest delight �� to be fellated at stool by nymphet with mouth still blood-heavy from the necessary precautions �� what then? What if my supply of anodontic premenstruals were never-ending, what then? Surely, in time, I should sicken of it.

“Even if I were a woman, and could string orgasm on orgasm like beads on a necklace, in time I should sicken of it. Do you think Messalina, in that competition of hers with a courtesan, knew pleasure as much on the first occasion as the last? Impossible.

“Yet consider.

“Consider pain.

“Give me a cubic centimeter of your flesh and I could give you pain that would swallow you as the ocean swallows a grain of salt. And you would always be ripe for it, from before the time of your birth to the moment of your death, we are always in season for the embrace of pain. To experience pain requires no intelligence, no maturity, no wisdom, no slow working of the hormones in the moist midnight of our innards. We are always ripe for it. All life is ripe for it. Always.”
― Jesus Ignacio Aldapuerta, The Eyes: Emetic Fables from the Andalusian De Sade

“El amor es una amistad con momentos eróticos.”
― Antonio Gala

“Please,�� I gasped out.
He just brushed his lips against my jaw, my neck, my mouth.
“Tamlin,�� I begged. He palmed my breast, his thumb flicking over my nipple. I cried out, and he buried himself in me with a mighty stroke.
For a moment, I was nothing, no one.
Then we were fused, two hearts beating as one, and I promised myself it always would be that way as he pulled out a few inches, the muscles of his back flexing beneath my hands, and then slammed back into me. Again and again.
I broke and broke against him as he moved, as he murmured my name and told me he loved me. And when that lightning once more filled my veins, my head, when I gasped out his name, his own release found him. I gripped him through each shuddering wave, savoring the weight of him, the feel of his skin, his strength.
For a while, only the rasp of our breathing filled the room.
I frowned as he withdrew at last—but he didn’t go far. He stretched out on his side, head propped on a fist, and traced idle circles on my stomach, along my breasts.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“To feel aroused is to feel alive. Having great sex is like taking in huge lungfuls of fresh air, essential to your body, essential to your health, and essential to your life.”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“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.”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“I heard him sweeping with the broom, and then he suddenly stopped.

I had obviously got his attention, and he was looking.

Take a good look, honey, I thought. Take a good look at what I’m offering.

I liked the sound of that silence. Do you know what I mean? Have you heard that silence yourself?

I love that silence you get, when a man who you fancy notices your body.

In a weird way, it’s so loud, it’s deafening.

It could be because of the way you sway your hips, your legs, or thrust your breasts.

And you just know his erection is talking to him, about what he’d like to do to your body. How he’d like to have his delightfully wicked way with you, undress you, smother your naked skin with hungry urgent kisses, and thrust his hard and moist cock deep inside the pouting red lips of your mouth��

I think you get my drift.

There’s a lovely tension in that moment; I call it the lust moment.

When a sexy man sees what you’ve deliberately put out on offer, and he stops in his steps as his lust lights up his mind, and puts him on a new track.”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“You know, there’s no pleasure like the joy of being a sexual woman.

You can take your careers, your money, your houses and possessions, and you go and throw them in a lake.

Because life is really all about sex.

That’s what I keep learning, again and again.

It’s the most important thing, woven into the very centre of life.

And I just know I was put on this earth to be a sexual woman, and to explore as much about sex as I can.”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“I want you to fuck me, Chris,�� I said, lustfully whispering the words into his ear as he planted kisses on my neck.

His lips were wild and yearning, eagerly devouring me.”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“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.”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“You know, when I see a good-looking man, the first thing I think about is sex. I want to see him naked, and I imagine running my hands impatiently over his hot body.

I can’t help it: it’s just how I am.”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“I’d love to be tried out,�� I said, with a suggestive smile. ‘One should always explore something, before one goes in deeper.��

I saw a little flicker of fun in his eyes.”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“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.”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“He looked at me, and then looked away quickly.

But I could tell he was interested.

I think my tight t-shirt might have had something to do with it. And the way I was pushing my breasts towards him, with an inviting smile on my face.”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“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!”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“When you’re honest, what compares with the gorgeous thrill of sex? What brings you the same sense of wonder, pleasure, and fulfilment?

I can’t think of anything as good.”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“От само себе си се разбира, че развитието на еротизма с нищо не е външно за областта на религията, но тъкмо християнството, противопоставяйки се на еротизма, е осъдило повечето религии. В някакъв смисъл християнската религия е може би най-нерелигиозната.”
― Georges Bataille, Erotism: Death and Sensuality

“Perversion is the erotic form of hatred.”
― Diane Ackerman

“He handed the dust pan and brush over. I knew they wouldn’t be much use in cleaning the floor. I also knew the real reason he had given them to me: so he could look furtively at me, as I bent over.

That idea turned me on.

I welcomed it, and decided to give him a good look at what he wanted.”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“He closed the door behind us, and led me through to the back of the shop. ‘If you don’t mind, you can get changed in the stock cupboard,�� he said. ‘We’re not posh enough here to have staff changing rooms, but you’ll soon get used to it.��

‘Oh, don’t worry, Chris,�� I said warmly. ‘I’m used to getting my clothes off in unusual places.”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“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?”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“Excuse me,�� I said cheerily. ‘Is the job still going?�� I pointed to the notice.

‘Of course,�� he said, looking back at me with a warm smile. I think he was as hopeful as I was about where this could lead to. ‘We need all the hands we can get.��

I looked at the tight swell of his shirt against his chest, and thought, 'Mmm, yes, I can imagine my hands getting your fucking clothes off right now.”
― Fiona Thrust, Naked and Sexual

“Definitivamente no hay encuentro sexual menos satisfactorio que aquel que se da escudado bajo el pretexto de la venganza.”
― Giovanna Zuluaga, Los pecados de Victoria

“As for the fact that Simone dared to piss on the corpse, whether in boredom or, at worst, in irritation: it mainly goes to prove how impossible it was for us to understand what was happening, and of course, it is no more understandable today than it was then. Simone, being truly incapable of conceiving death such as one normally considers it, was frightened and furious, but in no way awestruck. Marcelle belonged to us so deeply in our isolation that we could not see her as just another corpse. Nothing about her death could be measured by a common standard, and the contradictory impulses overtaking us in this circumstance neutralized one another, leaving us blind and, as it were, very remote from anything we touched, in a world where gestures have no carrying power, like voices in a space that is absolutely soundless.”
― Georges Bataille, Story of the Eye

“Je veux bien que tu sois une Lucrèce pendant le jour tout entier, mais c’est une Laïs qu’il me faut la nuit.”
― Martial

“Être une digne mère de famille ou être une putain. Lorsqu’on était une femme dans la Rome antique, on appartenait nécessairement à l’une de ces deux catégories antagoniques.”
― Virginie Girod, Les femmes et le sexe dans la Rome antique