Romance

"I know what you want, darlin'. You go on and ask me nicely and you might just get it."

"THOMAS Guilty Of mankind. I have perpetrated human nature. My father and mother were accessories before the fact, But there’ll be no accessories after the fact, By my virility there won’t! Just see me As I am, like a perambulating Vegetable, patched with inconsequential Hair, looking out of two small jellies for the means Of life, balanced on folding bones, my sex No Beauty but a blemish to be hidden Behind judicious rags, driven and scorched By boomerang rages and lunacies which never Touch the accommodating artichoke Or the seraphic strawberry beaming in its bed:I defend myself against pain and death by pain And death, and make the world go round, they tell me By one of my less lethal appetites:Half this grotesque life I spend in a state Of slow decomposition, using The name of unconsidered God as a pedestal On which I stand and bray that I’m best Of beasts, until under some patient Moon or other I fall to pieces, Like a cake of dung. Is there a slut would Hold this in her arms and put her lips against it?JENNETSluts are only human. By a quirk Of unastonished nature, your obscene Decaying figure of vegetable fun Can drag upon a woman’s heart, as though Heaven were dragging up the roots of hell. What is to be done? Something compels us into The terrible fallacy that man is desirable and there’s no escaping into truth. The crimes And cruelties leave us longing, and campaigning Love still pitches his tent of light among The suns and moons. You may be decay and a platitude Of flesh, but I have no other such memory of life. You may be corrupt as ancient applies, well then Corruption is what I most willingly harvest. You are Evil, Hell, the Father of Lies; if so Hell is my home and my days of good were a holiday:Hell is my hill and the world slopes away from it Into insignificance. I have come suddenly Upon my heart and where it is I see no help for."

"It’d take a lot more than a quick fuck to lose me, Lockland.”He smiled and nipped my lower lip. “Plus,” I murmured, pulling back, “your cock is pretty nice. I think my ass would miss it."

"Ah, I love this; I love...your mouth on me.” He feels so good. Ah. His fingers replace his tongue. My emotions bubble up to the surface, screaming for release. I want to tell him how I feel. My eyes gloss with tears. I love him. I love you. I love you. Alex, I love you."

"Rachel moans, “Great. Well, he’s not the only one sexually frustrated.”I laugh. “Well, then get over these issues so you both can be relieved.”“How’s Alex?” She raises an eyebrow at me.“I’m sure fine,” I say defensively. “I haven’t seen him in a few weeks.”“Really? I thought he made a nightly appearance.” “Rachel, those dreams aren’t him. It’s my f’ed up brain replaying my memories as a form of torture..."

"Pearl-colored light flowed over the far horizon and sparkled in the dewy drops beaded in spider webs. Everything was still - only the gulls and a turtle lazing on a rock observed their presence."

"I would like to stop wordplaying, and see you."

"With each kiss in the cold house 
we swallow clouds of breath – exhaled spirit, speech bubbles
 we’d rather lick away 
than fill with words. We run naked from room to room, 
keeping the walls warm.
 Our bodies blur through the halls 
of your house, its winter circulation."

"With Mr. Montgomery, I set out to see what it would be like to write a novel in 30 days. It was hell! I'd do it again in a minute."

"Thus, one of the awful things I can admit about myself is that the two years I spent with Jennifer live in my mind mostly as a series of frantic, breathy memories. Clawing hands tugging off clothes, heartbeat thumping in my ears, fingernails digging down my back. salty tastes lingering in my mouth. It's biology. It's hormones. As time passes I can recall fewer and fewer of our conversations and I couldn't give you the details of our five most-fun dates (though I have a fairly graphic vision of how each of them ended). If upon hearing this you pump your fist and wink knowingly, you can kiss my ass. She was a good friend to me. She put up with my bullshit and at times not even I can put up with my bullshit. But all that is gone and what is left is a big, black hole where the sex used to be."

"I believe she imbued my body thus, finding every touch enhanced by ambiguity of intention, as if it too required translation, and so each touch branched out, became a variety of touches."

"highway wildflowers swaying like the ocean. queen anne’s lace like doilies for a tea party never attended. this is a conversation between two parts of yourself. the fever will break soon, but until then i’ll be untangling you from the knots in my windblown hair. i smell like a wet forest, like long grass covered in sequins. i called your name but was drowned out by the thunder. i remember you murmuring, “please,” while you took my shirt off. i remember you and the airy “please” when you pulled me toward you by my legs. i remember “pleeease” while i learned how to let go. i remember your divine “please.” chanting it as if it’d draw a demon out of hiding. “please, please, please.” and i screamed, “yes."

"he walks into the bedroom like he owns it. says, “i wanna be filthy with you.” takes me down hungry. helps me shed my skin. cafuné. he looked at me like i wasn’t something ruined. filled my vicious parts with gold. touched me with too much yearning. he said, “i’d burn for you.” how can he not see we’re the creators of the fire? he growled, “moan for me.” the wolf bit down and i howled into the night."

"But you're worth crying over. So i've decided you're staying here with me all night - or at least until I've given you twenty-seven orgasms.' Gina found herself a bit breathless. 'Twenty-seven? That's a very specific number.' 'I'm a very specific sort of man. Now each up."

"There is no such thing as “vaginal orgasm” vs. “clitoral orgasm”. The entire ring of tissues that surrounds the vaginal opening is connected to the clitoris by nerves and blood vessels. Ultimately all these tissues together are responsible for the female orgasm. This entire erogenous zone is often referred to as the “ring of fire”."

"Getting even… Why do we want it in the first place? Is it a question of honor, nothing but an attempt to teach other people not to mess with us, or something else?Or… maybe it is just our way to make everything right when the Universe fails to do so. Our way to make the world right itself."

"Look at you Infidelity”, shaking his head in frustration. “I’m not sure if your choice of drug is passion, the thrill of the affair or the man himself, but there is a void you are trying to have us fulfill in your life and you are hooked! The secrets, the lies, the lame attempts to quit sleeping around…the isolation; don’t you get it? YOU LOVE INFIDELITY!"- Loving Infidelity"

"All men are dogs, Nichelle, and if you don’t feed your dog, you can’t be surprised when he’s in the neighbor’s trash looking for food."

"And that is one of the problems of your generation. All sex. No romance. No love."

"I don’t just want you to come. I want you to come undone"