I want a girl because I want to bring her up so that she shan’t make the mistakes I’ve made. When I look back upon the girl I was I hate myself. But I never...

This love is hard core. Let’s make it soft porn.

I do not believe that to be religious in the best, authentic sense a man has to destroy his love life and mummify himself, body and soul.

I’ve given guys blow jobs just because I’ve run out of things to talk about.’Oh, Rae. Who hasn’t

If they had given in to passion, throwing caution to the wind,they would have lost everything.

Sex is kicking death in the ass while singing.

Lilith came to Longinus in the night, as she often did, and the darkness of the cave was filled with the lustful sounds of their passionate couplings. Afterwards, as he lay back with his eyes...

End Of Men is a concoction of sex, outsider art, filmmaking and death including an Italian island

I couldn’t understand how boldness and sorrow, how you’re so hard and do you really care for me? could be so thoroughly bound together. Nor could I begin to fathom how someone so seemingly vulnerable,...

Love is a relation that starts before you are born and survives even after you die…

The last time that I consciously wrote anything to ‘save the honor of the Left’, as I rather pompously put it, was my little book on the crookedness and cowardice and corruption (to put it...

That’s for you, Mr. Bunnyman. You can have it on your way back up, after the job is finished

In time, Mr Hall, one gets to recognize that sneer, that hardness, for fornication extends far beyond the actual deed. Were it a deed only, I for one would not hold it anathema. But when...

Let me be clear: I don’t want to make love to a mannequin—I want to make love like a mannequin. Oh, if only I were that animated in bed.

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...

Never loved the taste of someone before baby, but with you, I would willingly drown in it. I’m going to devour you Tessa, from the inside out, and you’re going to come so many times...

Il n’y a pas de rapport sexuel.

Once…Why…lie?…when…truth is…the easier path

Sex has to do with your physical body, while gender has to do with your social expression of a range of masculinities and/or femininities (and/or neutralities).

Was I on something? Yes, love. The strongest drug there is.

Gabi glared. “If you want to add some variety to your sex life, why don’t you just use your other hand?

My favorite unit of time is the hour, because I collect them and store as many as 10 new and unused ones each night to use after I’m dead. The best time to make love...

Discipline your sexuality for it has the proclivity to cause a productivity that can influence now and posterity.

You keep runnin that mouth and I’m goin to take you back there and screw you.

A tramp, therefore, is a celibate from the moment when he takes to the road. He is absolutely without hope of getting a wife, a mistress, or any kind of woman except — very rarely,...

Distance, the dissonance insurmountable,would be not the end,but a magnet.When fingertips kiss,they imprint and cement something,that cannot be disintegrated. Time becomes a phantom,the wind becomes an anchor,and old dreams- blankets of warmth.Lull with me, Lady,there...

I had a dream about you. I think we made love, but I can’t be certain because the scenes were censored by the Moral Authorities. The thing that pisses me off is my grocery list...

We made love like Tuesday at noon, even though it was Thursday at 3:00, and then again at 3:03. (I have the stamina of a water lily).

Farmers grow on the land. I suppose farmers grow farmers, rather than using sex to reproduce.

A candle that smells like asshole would be an instant hit in prison.

L and V, both angular. O and E, both vowels. Coupled together, like a couple of couples coupling and copulating, and you have love. All this talk of sex makes me nostalgic for the Rasputin...

I’m about to crash for the night, and I’m wearing a bicycle helmet to bed. I make love as if Lance Armstrong were shaped like a bowling pin. But I’ll spare you the details, if...

Marriage is the dearth of sex as we know it.

We made love like Wednesday and Thursday, only Thursday wasn’t always on top. Her name was Yesterday, and today will always remind me of her.

We made love. With our hands. Then we sold it to cars stopped at the red light.

Do you know what I want to do? If you guessed have sex, you win a brand new baby!

You’re so… You’re too… You’re…” He faltered, then took a deep breath. “I have no words for you, Sita. You leave me speechless.”I smiled and pinched his buttock so he twitched. “Speechless? Gods, I’ve broken...

[…] I know how to inflame a cunt. I shoot hot bolts into you, Tania. I make your ovaries incandescent.

Giving a reader a sex scene that is only half right is like giving her half of a kitten. It is not half as cute as a whole kitten; it is a bloody, godawful mess.

Well that explains a lot.

There’s no sense forcing yourself if you don’t feel like it. Tell you the truth, I’ve had sex with lots of guys, but I think I did it mostly out of fear. I was scared...

Sex was a practiced art to him. Each move calculated. His brain always worked while he performed, his body seducing his prey with ease, noting each response of his target. But in one moment, everything...

Sex is. There is nothing more to be done about it. Sex builds no roads, writes no novels and sex certainly gives no meaning to anything in life but itself.

There was a war between them, between love and the right thing to do, and it kept assaulting them, kept keeping them apart.

There’s a saying, isn’t there, that when you’ve had a near death experience, all you want to do is have sex?

The human heart is my territory. I write about love because it’s the most important thing in the world. I write about sex because often it feels like the most important thing in the world.

I’d missed this so much, this simple pleasure. The sensation of a heavy shaft sliding over my tongue, pushing deeper and deeper into me until my lips bumped against my hand.

Guns, she was reminded then, were not for girls. They were for boys. They were invented by boys. They were invented by boys who had never gotten over their disappointment that accompanying their own orgasm...

It was a strange moment, like when you get sad after sex, and it feels like it’s too late in the afternoon, even if it’s morning, or night, and you turn away from the other...

Money is the last taboo. People will talk about their sex lives before they discuss their finances.