Time seemed to stand still as they remained embraced, him holding his body weight on his elbows as he looked down at her and grinned. “Now that’s a vacation.” She laughed and then his grin fell and he shook his head.“Like a couple of horny teenagers with no thought of tomorrow and no thought of protection. We should both be shot.” “Can you wait until the glow leaves me before you shoot me?” she asked. He smiled down at her. “You are glowing. You look gorgeous.” “It’s the look of a sated woman.” “I like it.

I was worried about sex," he went on. "But you know what, Sulie? It's like being told I can't have any caviar for the next couple years. I don't even like caviar. And when you come right down to it, I don't want sex right now. I supposed you punched that into the computer? 'Cut down sex drive, increase euphoria'? Anyway, it finally penetrated my little brain that I was just making trouble for myself, worrying about whether I could get along without something I really didn't want. It's a reflection of what I think other people think I should want.

Albine now yielded to him, and Serge possessed her.And the whole garden was engulfed together with the couple in one last cry of love's passion. The tree-trunks bent as under a powerful wind. The blades of grass emitted sobs of intoxication. The flowers, fainting, lips half-open, breathed out their souls. The sky itself, aflame with the setting of the great star, held its clouds motionless, faint with love, whence superhuman rapture fell. And it was the victory of all the wild creatures, all plants and all things natural, which willed the entry of these two children into the eternity of life.

Waiting for a hot pocket to cook we’d fuck and be satisfied, barefoot on new york city apartment linoleum. A satisfying hot pocket and a big ass smile and a tight ass grip and a wall beside a random pipe beside the stove where we left palm and dick prints. We fucked like this. Three condoms in an hour and a half and where are you now? Holding the hand of some local dude you wish was a little more international, wishing you had known I was enough and asked me to stay. You are standing in the kitchen waiting for popcorn to pop while he washes dishes, not knowing I’m wishing back for you.

It's funny, this - so many words to describe the same thing,” she smiled...“Penis is simply an anatomical appendage, as exciting as a finger or a phalange. A willy is something small and flaccid, and at least slightly humorous. Prick is the organ as viewed with distaste, perhaps with so much as to describe the entire body it’s attached to, like a dick, but more so. Phallus is a symbol of fertility, but my favourite...is the cock, which is only ever the hard, real thing, unleashed and ready to dive head-first into any waiting orifice. Or hole, while I’m in thesaurus mode.

I will say that my philosophy as a writer, since the very start of my career, has been one of “show, don’t tell.” Whatever might be happening in my books, I try to put the reader into the middle of it, rather than summarizing the action. That requires vivid sensory detail. I don’t want distance, I want to put you there. When the scene in question is a sex scene, some readers find that intensely uncomfortable… and that’s ten times as true for scenes of sexual violence.But that is as it should be. Certain scenes are meant to be uncomfortable, disturbing, hard to read.

In those years I did not care to enjoy sex, only to have it. That is what seeing Alex again on Fifth Avenue brought back to me - a youth of fascinated, passionless copulation. There they are, figures in a discoloured blur, young men and not so young, the nice ones with automobiles, the dull ones full of suspicions and stinginess. By asking a thousand questions of many heavy souls, I did not learn much. You receive biographies interesting mainly for their coherence. So many are children who from the day of their birth are growing up to be their parents. Look at the voting records, inherited like flat feet.

All your life you look to America for those home-grown, corn-fed tits that the Yank bitches all sprout when they’re about fourteen – those bulging DDs that you wank about as a kid as you look longingly across the Atlantic, simultaneously repulsed and electrified – and then the greatest tits you’ve ever seen walk straight out of Giffnock (Glasgow, but you knew that, right?) and bounce their sweet way down to you via the Caledonian-sleeper train. I know they say America is finished, but Christ, when the Jock lassies are packing the premium chest meat, you know they aren’t kidding.

It wasn’t the first time I’d run across sex spells: theywere just as common as electricity-kindled spells. They justaren’t convenient for your average on-the-go magicalneeds.“Do all the memory spells require that?” I asked.“I don’t think so. I just noticed it on the last couple ofretrieval ones.”“Uh, maybe I could just get myself, you know, privately…?” I suggested. I regretted it immediately, and felt my faceflush with warmth. What the hell was I going to do? Ask Lonif he had any porn I could borrow and hole up in his library’swashroom?

These girls with old gents don't do it despite the age—they're drawn to the age, they do it for the age. Why? In Consuela's case, because the vast difference in age gives her permission to submit, I think. My age and mystatus give her, rationally, the license to surrender, and surrendering in bed is a not unpleasant sensation. But simultaneously, to give yourself over intimately to a much, much older man provides this sort of younger woman with authority of a kind she cannot get in a sexual arrangement with a younger man. She gets both the pleasures of submission and the pleasures of mastery.

... I believe strongly in condoms. They avert babies and disease. They make you seem responsible, not slutty. They make the girl relax too, because you’re taking care of the risky part. Like you’re a professional. Roll it on, squeeze the tip, turn back to her, ready, set go. Like I’d just done a little disappearing act on myself and became something confident and wonderful. You can’t see through my latex disguise! You will love this so let’s get down! You don’t want to know how many times this worked in my favor.God I feel like a fucking asshole sometimes. All the time, really.

Oh, I`m sure Tristin will do it" She said casually as she hung the dress back on the hanger. I stared at her in confusion. "Surely he knows how to put a condom." The visual made my insides squirm with panic. "I mean the whole thing! All of it!" I cried."Oh" She looked at me with surprise and then her expression dissolved into understanding. "Honey, it will all come naturally.""How do I know what natural is though? How do I know what`s right? What if I do it all wrong?"She smiled. "The thing about men, Alexis, is they generally don`t find any of it wrong. In fact, usually the more wrong it is, the more they like it.

I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him yourself.”She sat up enough to look him in the eye. “I am not talking toyour…your…”“Mighty throbbing manhood?”“Briec.”“That which brings you much delirious pleasure?”“Briec.”“That which makes you whole?”“Stop it, dragon. You’re making me physically ill.” ...“Ow!”“Be nice, woman. I’m not used to this.”She rubbed her ass and glared at him. “Do that again and you’lllose that which you believe makes me whole.

[...] Deep within, her female organs began to contract and release. She felt the path of his seed and now in her mind she could see a golden trail. How was this even possible? Dear God, how was any of this even possible?Now she could see the chrysalis of her genetic material, a bright burning light at the end of a tunnel. The imagery made her smile then laugh. She could see his sperm, like lightning [...] If his DNA wanted to make a child, why wouldn't it move at an accelerated rate?She felt the moment when her egg received his sperm and their child began all the fantastic portentous crazy cell replications. [...]

Just as sex is a God-given instinct for the prolongation of the human race, so the desire for property as a prolongation of one's ego is a natural right sanctioned by natural law. A person is free on the inside because he can call his soul his own; he is free on the outside because he can call property his own. Internal freedom is based upon the fact that "I am"; external freedom is based on the fact that "I have." But just as the excesses of flesh produce lust, for lust is sex in the wrong place, so there can be a deordination of the desire for property until it becomes greed, avarice, and capitalistic aggression.