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50 Hot Sex Scenes From Erotic Novels That'll Totally Turn You On

LookCatalog, Drew Wilson

50 Hot Sex Scenes From Erotic Novels That'll Totally Turn You On

Who needs to watch porn when you can read erotica? 

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He reached over and touched his finger very delicately to the edge of one of its straps, near my collarbone, but instead of pushing it down and off my shoulder as I thought he would, he ran his finger slowly along then upper edge of my bra in front and then traced it all the way down around the bottom. I watched his face while he did this. It seemed more intimate than kissing him had. By the time he’d finished outlining the whole thing, he’d barely touched me and yet I was so wet I could hardly stand up.

— Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

SexeroticaKissing

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    He put his head between my legs, nuzzling at first. His beard was a little rough on the insides of my thighs. Then with his lips, then his tongue, he struck fire. I had to cry out in astonishment, in gratitude at being touched in that right place.

    — Mary Gordon, Spending: A Novel

    Sexoralerotica

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    Finn drags the length of red rope up over my torso, coiling it around his hand. Reaching behind me, he slides the center of its length under my body and then crisscrosses it back and forth down across my torso. Looping it around one hand he coils it up one arm and then back over my chest to the other side. Wrapping it down around my other arm, he's softly bound my arms so each of my wrists stays at the sides of my hips. In the center, just below my belly button, he ties an intricate — and beautiful — knot. I watch him the entire time; he's focused and careful not to bind me too tight. I can tell, too, that he loves what he sees. When he's done, he sighs, running his hands up over my hips and across my stomach, my breasts, my neck.

    — Christina Lauren, Dirty Rowdy Thing (Wild Seasons)

    Sexbondagedomination

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    Noelle is at our side, watching, touching herself. Only once does she lean forward and suckle at his shoulder. His mouth leaves mine and finds hers. He earns a delicious purr before I pull on his hair to get him back to me.

    — Sara Dobie Bauer, Wolf Among Sheep

    Sexthreesomeerotica

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    I was in charge and he liked it. I held his hands down. He pretended he was trying to break free. I let my tits touch his face. He went mad; he bucked. He split me in two. I pushed down. I couldn’t believe it. One of his fingers flicked over my bum. I did it to him. He lifted and heaved. I couldn’t believe it. There was no end to it, no end to the new things. He did something. I copied him. I did something. He did it back. He took me from behind. I pushed back, forced more of him into me. I sucked him. He licked me. I made him come on my stomach.

    — Roddy Doyle, The Woman Who Walked into Doors

    Sexorgasmerotica

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    She crawled forward, until she could lean even farther across him. Until she could reach the drawer and slide it open. Until she was straddling his chest instead of his hips. Until that white flash of satin was right there, nearly in his face.

    He couldn’t not do it. He couldn’t possibly resist. He shifted down and kissed her, breathing in the sweet muskiness of her perfume.

    Her thighs tightened around his face and she gasped. But she didn’t pull back. And that was all the invitation he needed.

    He reached up and tore her panties free, and then, oh yes, he was in heaven.

    — Suzanne Brockmann, The Defiant Hero (Troubleshooters, Book 2)

    SexLoveerotica

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    He felt her slip down the bed. She unfastened his pants, eased his briefs over his hips, and brushed the length of his cock with her palm before taking him in her mouth. He sighed, eyes shut, thinking about how unbelievably good it felt, when Rachel gave a throaty moan, then rolled her mouth from base to tip and whispered, "Look at me."

    — Jennifer Weiner, Who Do You Love: A Novel

    SexoralDating

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    He bit at Ty’s lower lip. Bit hard.

    Ty’s fingers dragged down his shoulder and he let Ty’s lip go. He thrust again, his cock growing painfully hard inside his jeans. He reached between their bodies to loosen his belt and pull the zipper, then pushed his jeans and boxers down.

    Ty’s eyes were dark and unreadable. ‘I thought we were done.’

    Zane smiled slowly. ‘As soon as you know what it feels like to be used. Then we’re fucking done.’

    He grabbed at Ty’s shirt to rip it the rest of the way.

    — Abigail Roux, Sidewinder (3 Book Series)

    Sexerotica

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    Then Creta Kano mounted me and used her hand to slip me inside her. Once she had me deep inside, she began a slow rotation of her hips. As she moved, the edges of the pale-blue dress caressed my naked stomach and thighs. With the skirts of the dress spread out around her, Creta Kano, riding atop me, looking like a soft, gigantic mushroom that had silently poked its face up through the dead leaves on the ground and opened under the sheltering wings of night. Her vagina felt warm and at the same time cold. It tried to envelop me, to draw me in, and at the same time to press me out. My erection grew larger and harder. I felt I was about to burst wide open. It was the strangest sensation, something that went beyond simple sexual pleasure. It felt as if something inside her, something special inside her, were slowly working its way through my organ into me.

    — Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle: A Novel

    Sexeroticaorgasm

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    He had lifted her skirts as she stood with her back to the wall and now had his fingers between her legs. 'Come to me,' she whispered, her breath hot in his ear. 'Into me now.' He removed her fumbling fingers from his trousers and freed himself.

    — Sebastian Faulks, Birdsong: A Novel of Love and War

    SexeroticaLove

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    Her hair was piled high, but when she shook her head it came cascading down in a glowing wave over her shoulders, and fell as far as her knees. This rippling curtain did not cover her breasts which thrust their way through it like living creatures. They were perfect rounds, white as mare's milk and tipped with ruby nipples that puckered as my gaze passed over them.

    — Wilbur Smith, Desert God: A Novel of Ancient Egypt

    Sexbeautyerotica

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    His grand movement, which seemed to rise out of a thicket of curling hair, that spread from the root all over his thighs and belly up to the navel, stood stiff and upright, but of a size to frighten me, by sympathy for the small tender part which was the object of its fury, and which now lay exposed to my fairest view; for he had, immediately on stoppings off his shirt, gently pushed her down on the couch, which stood conveniently to break her willing fall. Her thighs were spread out to their utmost extension, and discovered between them the mark of the sex, the red-centered cleft of flesh, whose lips vermillioning inwards, expressed a small ruby line in sweet miniature, such as Guide's touch or coloring: could never attain to the life or delicacy of.

    — John Cleland, Fanny Hill: Or, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure

    Sexerotica

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    I run my fingers just down the long place where the insides of your thighs touch, all the way to your knees, and then I’d let go of your legs, and they’d fall slightly apart, and as my hands started to move up inside them, with my fingers splayed wide, they’d move farther and farther apart, and then I’d lift your knees and hook them over the arms of the armchair, so that you were wide open for me, and in the darkness your bush would still be indistinct, and I’d look up at you, and I’d move on my knees so I’m closer, so I could slide my cock in you if I wanted, and I touch your shoulders with my hands, and pass my fingertips all the way down over your breasts and over your stomach and just lightly over your bush, just to feel the hair, and then I say, ‘I’m going to lick you now,’ and I lick both your nipples once very briefly good-bye, and I breathe my way down, and I pass over your bush this time with my mouth, and I see where the tan stops, and where the hair begins, and I keep going, and your legs are spread wide, and so I kiss inside one knee, and then across to the other, and up, back and forth, and at the end of each kiss I give a little upward lick with my tongue, up lick, lick, lick, back and forth, moving closer and closer to where your thighs meet.

    — Nicholson Baker, Vox

    Sexphone sexerotica

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    He pulled his head up from my breast and leaned up and over me, still holding my hands captive. I twisted, aching and raw.

    ‘Fuck me, you’re a hot piece of ass,’ he muttered. I closed my eyes, trying to catch him with my hips, whimpering for him to take me.

    — Joanna Wylde, Reaper's Property (Reapers Motorcycle Club Book 1)

    Sexeroticadomination

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    He covered one of her breasts with a telekinetic hand, stroking down to squeeze her nipple. She clenched around him, her wetness molten, It took Kaleb’s brain a micro-second to make the connected. Giving her neglected breast the same treatment, he rubbed at her clitoris with a phantom finger, while never faltering in the slow, steady rhythm of sexual intercourse that had his testicles drawn up tight against his body, the pain exquisite.

    — Nalini Singh, Heart of Obsidian

    SexBodieserotica

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    'But one more thing.’ Derek leaned forward, resting his hands on either side of her on the counter, then dipped his head lower. Ginger’s mind reeled as he ran his tongue upward in one long lick of her neck. ‘The longer it takes me to get between your thighs, the rougher I’m going to be when I finally get there. Understand?'

    — Tessa Bailey, Protecting What's His

    SexeroticaKissing

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    And he was kissing me again, and slipping the shorty nightgown over my head. His strong and gentle hands began to stroke me, his hands, his lips, his tongue.

    Gentle. Not frightening. Knowing what he was doing. I felt my nipples rise, and it startled me.

    — Madeleine L'Engle, A House Like a Lotus

    SexLoveerotica

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    She slid further down, introducing herself to the rest of him. His neck. His nipples. His chocolate brown stomach. She sipped the last of the river from the hollow of his navel. She pressed the heat of his erection against her eyelids. She tasted him, salty, in her mouth. He sat up and drew her back to him. She felt his belly tighten under her, hard as a board. She felt her wetness slipping on his skin. He took her nipple in his mouth and cradled her other breast in his calloused palm. Velvet gloved in sandpaper.

    — Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things: A Novel

    Sexeroticaoral

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    He puts his hands under her knees and maneuvers her carefully so that her bottom rests on the edge of the settee. He slips his fingers underneath the worn elastic of her panties that are strung across the points of her hips, slips them to her ankles and softly draws apart her knees and feels again a watery ardor in his eyes as he negotiates a button and a zipper. It is exactly as he imagined it - the hair, the lips, the hole - and he slips his hands under her wasted buttocks and enters her like a fucking pile driver.

    — Nick Cave, The Death of Bunny Munro: A Novel

    SexCoupleserotica

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    He kissed her ear, as he said, "I don't want either of us to ever forget this night."

    She answered by plastering her mouth on his and kissing him in a way she'd never thought possible, her hips moving against him, knowing there must be more. Ben settled himself between her legs. She cradled his hips with her thighs. And then he was at the portal. The sharp pain she had once endured was a distant memory, and nothing, absolutely nothing in this world, felt as good as the sensation of him slowly sliding into her.

    — Cathy Maxwell, The Match of the Century (Marrying the Duke)

    SexeroticaLove

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    'You are mine,' he grunts out, pumping into me, the length and level of his arousal brutal. 'Mine,' he swears, as he releases my mouth and turns me around, pushing me forward as he yanks my legs back, one hand hard on my back, the other gripping my ass. He doesn’t slow the movement, giving me full, hard thrusts, my breasts bouncing from the top of my dress, the mirror above the sink giving me a full view of my slutdom. Paul, in worn jeans, a white tee-shirt, light hair mussed, mouth open, intensity over his face. His reflection pulls at my hair, tilting my head back, and I find his eyes on mine in the mirror.

    — Alessandra Torre, Sex Love Repeat

    Sexeroticacouple

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    He presses my lips to his, and they're searing hot. I want to reach the top with him, to kill him, just for the high. 'Fuck you Sam,' I whisper against his lips, and now he lets go to unzip his jeans. He grabs me by the waist of my skirt and yanks it, breaking the elastic... He pulls me away from the kitchen table and tosses me onto the sofa, rolls on a condom and rides me.

    — Martha O' Connor, [The Bitch Goddess Notebook] (By: Martha O'Connor) [published: April, 2006]

    Sexerotica

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    He drove his tongue inside her, setting off another shattering moan that was music to his ears. She was quite an instrument to play, so finely tuned, and if he touched her right, she made the most glorious sounds — raw, intense, absolutely delicious noises of pleasure as he plundered her with his tongue. She grabbed his hair, yanked and pulled him closer as he’d told her to do. He thrust one finger inside her, crooking it and hitting her in the spot that turned her moans into one long, high-pitched orgasm. She shuddered against him, her legs quaking, and when he finally slowed to look up at her, he saw her hair was a wild tumble, and her face was glowing.

    — Lauren Blakely, Sinful Nights Bundle: Books 1-3

    Sexorgasmcouple

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    I arched against him when he moved to my other breast. Two fingers worked inside me, a little uncomfortable but nothing I couldn’t handle. Not so long as he kept his mouth on me, lavishing my breasts with attention. His thumb rubbed around a sweet spot and my eyes rolled back into my head. So close. The strength of what was building was staggering. Mind-blowing. My body was going to be blown to dust, atoms, when this hit. If he stopped, I’d cry. Cry, and beg. And maybe kill... I came, groaning, every muscle drawn taut. It was almost too much. Almost.

    — Kylie Scott, Lick (A Stage Dive Novel)

    SexorgasmBodies

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    Romance isn't in my repertoire, Eva. But a thousand ways to make you come are. Let me show you.

    — Sylvia Day, Entwined with You (Crossfire, Book 3)

    Sexromanceorgasm

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    'I want you sore, baby,’ he murmurs, and he continues his sweet, leisurely torment, backward, forward. ‘Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I’ve been here. Only me. You are mine.'

    — E.L. James, Fifty Shades of Grey: Book One of the Fifty Shades Trilogy (Fifty Shades of Grey Series)

    Sexsore

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    Quickly, without further discussion, not that some bed would have been a better choice, she has joined months of unvacuumed debris on the rug, face on the floor, ass in the air, skirt pushed up, Windust’s not-exactly-manicured nails ripping methodically at sheer taupe pantyhose it took her easily twenty minutes in Saks not so long ago to decide on, and his cock is inside her with so little inconvenience that she must have been wet without knowing it. His hands, murderer’s hands, are gripping her forcefully by the hips, exactly where it matters, exactly where some demonic set of nerve receptors she has been till now only semi-aware of have waited to be found and used like buttons on a game controller… impossible for her to know if it’s him moving or if she’s doing it herself.

    — Thomas Pynchon, Bleeding Edge: A Novel

    Sexdominationerotica

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    'Kiss me,' he thought, anguished, because she wasn’t going to, he knew. She lightly bit his shoulder. She was lowering herself more. She was brushing her breasts across his face. He wanted to take one of her breasts into his mouth, either one. He was frantic. He wanted to get as much of one of her breasts into his mouth as he could. Her breasts were killing him, her blunt instruments. He had called them that and she had laughed, long ago.

    — Norman Rush, Mortals

    KissingSexerotica

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    Her mouth moved down, then farther. He touched the top of her head, her fragile skull under wet hair, pulled her up gently. He wanted slowness, warmth, kissing. But she wouldn’t. She grasped him, though he wasn’t quite ready; she wasn’t either, she was dry, still cold. But she moved just slightly, sitting there above him, and after a few minutes he took the bones of her hips and pulled himself in until he’d fully stirred. She pressed down again, her body against his chest, and at last her mouth found his.

    — Lauren Groff, Arcadia

    SexKissingoral

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    On that night, as on many other nights, he pulled up the tangled sheets so that she could join him on the bed again. And soon Vanna Vane was grinding her damp bottom against his chest, belly, and mouth and strands of her dyed blond hair came slipping down between their lips as they kissed. Then she mounted him and rocked back and forth until things got all twisted and hot inside and both their hearts burst (pounding like conga drums) and they fell back exhausted, resting until they were ready for more, their lovemaking going around and around in the Mambo King’s head, like the melody of a song of love.

    — Oscar Hijuelo, The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love: A Novel

    LoveSexerotica

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    She is so wet by the time he has the pillows under her gleaming stomach that he goes right into her in one long, delicious move. They begin slowly. When he is close to coming he pulls his prick out and lets it cool. Then he starts again, guiding it with one hand, feeding it in like line. She begins to roll her hips, to cry out. It’s like ministering to a lunatic. Finally he takes it out again. As he waits, tranquil, deliberate, his eye keeps falling on lubricants—her face cream, bottles in the armoire. They distract him. Their presence seems frightening, like evidence. They begin once more and this time do not stop until she cries out and he feels himself come in long, trembling runs, the head of his prick touching bone, it seems. They lie exhausted, side by side, as if just having beached a great boat.

    — James Salter, A Sport and a Pastime: A Novel (FSG Classics)

    SexLoveorgasm

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    Before she could do anything, he had placed a leather gag on her mouth. It didn’t stop her speaking, she could still say ‘yellow’ or ‘red’, but she felt now that it was her destiny to allow this man to do whatever he wished with her, and there was no way she could escape now. She was naked, gagged and handcuffed, with vodka flowing in her veins rather than blood.

    Another slap on her buttocks.

    — Paulo Cuelho, Eleven Minutes

    Sexdominationerotica

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    I stretch my legs open, and he is on top of me. Too heavy to hold, and too light not to. He puts his thing in me. In me. In me. I wrap my feet around his back so he can’t get away. His face is next to mine. The bedsprings sounds like them crickets used to back home. He puts his fingers in mine, and we stretches our arms outwise like Jesus on the cross. I hold on tight. My fingers and my feet hold on tight, because everything else is going, going. I know he wants me to come first. But I can’t. Not until he does. Not until I feel him loving me. Just me. Sinking into me. Not until I know that my flesh is all that be on his mind. That he couldn’t stop if he had to. That he would die rather than take his thing out of me. Of me. Not until he has let go of all he has, and give it to me. To me. To me. When he does, I feel a power. I be strong, I be pretty, I be young. And then I wait. He shivers and tosses his head. Now I be strong enough, pretty enough, and young enough to let him make me come.

    — Toni Morrison, The Bluest Eye (Vintage International)

    SexLove

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    With his hips he pulled her along to the edge of sensation and then let her pull back ever so gently, and back and forth and back and forth. She felt as if she were getting ready for a dive, jumping up and down on the end of the diving board to get a feel for the springs. Tighter than she had expected. Though she offered no resistance and came right before he did. When they caught their breath and pulled the covers back up, Stephen kissed her on the cheek, a quick good-night kiss, and rolled over and slept by himself.

    — Elizabeth Benedict, Slow Dancing: A Novel

    SexKissingerotica

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    She felt strange and wild. Her body was just a collection of organs. She was blood and plumbing, like any other creature, and there was nothing that was forbidden about any of it. She gnawed on Tomasso ravenously, like an animal plundering a carcass, and when she had had enough of that she swung her leg over him, like a rider swinging into a saddle, and galloped."

    — Anthony Capella, The Food of Love

    SexeroticaDating

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    I kissed his mouth ravenously, devouring his neck, earlobes, chest. He broke free with muscular ease, unhooked my bra with composed expertise, found my nipple and flicked his tongue back and forth until it went hard. His towel fell away.

    — Kathy Lette, To Love, Honour and Betray (Till Divorce Us Do Part)

    SexKissingerotica

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    The silken heat of her drove him to the brink. He managed to stave off his own satisfaction only by focusing every ounce of his thoughts on her. Her needs. Her wants. Ignoring the heady scent of floral fragrance and warm woman, Nathan concentrated on finding just the right touch that would please her, make her forget her own name.

    — Joanne Rock, Riding the Storm

    eroticaSex

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    Very slowly and gently, he undressed her, covering her white skin with kisses while he caressed her back. To her complete astonishment, she felt herself becoming aroused. 'Shhh, shhh ... ' Marcus was brushing her breasts with his fingertips, all the time shushing and stroking her like a groom reassuring a frightened foal.

    — Nicholas Coleridge, Godchildren

    SexLovearousal

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    I wet my finger, run it up the lips of my pussy and imagine it’s his tongue, wetting the wings of my labia, feeling them flutter and spread, circling my clit and flicking it. Blood rushes to my head, to my clit. I feel dizzy.

    I feel the head of his cock bouncing against my thigh as he crawls over me, positioning himself above me, poised to enter. And I turn on my side to accommodate him, bending the top leg at the knee, like a dancer doing the Can-Can, to give him a clear view of the runway as his craft comes into land.

    He takes his cock in his hands, guides it towards my pussy, towards the hole, where the wetness gathers. He pushes into it, just enough to wet the tip. Pulls out and slides the head up the pussy, making me slick with my own juices.

    — Sasha Grey, The Juliette Society

    Sexerotica

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    He moved up close behind her and put his hand on her waist. That was all it took. With a moist little whimpering groan she turned and pressed herself into his arms, offering up her mouth. They were on the couch and the only problem in the world was the bondage of their clothing. Twisting and gasping together, they worked urgently at knots and buttons and buckles and hooks until the last impediment slipped away; and then in the warmest rhythm of her flesh he found an over-whelming sense of this is what I needed; this is what I needed; his self-absorption was so complete that he was only dimly aware of her whispering, 'Oh, yes; yes, yes…'

    — Richard Yates, The Collected Stories of Richard Yates

    SexKissing

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    he was taking the tears with his lips, he was kissing them away; he was kissing my eyes and my mouth and our arms were round each other, and somehow my crying changed, I wasn’t crying in despair and wretchedness any more, but with a kind of luxury. My tears weren’t coming out of pain now, but out of a new feeling, a feeling his lips were rousing, and his hands, and there was no part of my mind or body that wished to resist it, or had the strength to: without reasoning or doubting, all of me wanted what he wanted.

    — Lynne Reid Banks, The L-Shaped Room

    SexKissingCrying

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    I dropped my head back to enjoy. His tongue flickered across my right nipple and his mouth zeroed in, taking me between his lips. His teeth softly encircled me, biting gently. I cried out, letting him know that this was exactly what I needed. His teeth nibbled more insistently and his left hand began to move toward my legs. I ran my hands up and down his back, beginning to feel the slow build that was going to quite possibly bring down this mountain.

    — Alice Clayton, The Unidentified Redhead (The Redhead Series)

    Sexerotica

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    She kissed him, an openmouthed invitation that he took. Every movement was pulling at her, dragging her closer. Every shift gave a breathtaking hint of mindless ecstasy that seemed to grow with each second. She shuddered and clutched his shoulders for strength, losing herself with each thrust of his tongue and each pumping caress from his manhood.

    — Leanne Banks, A Princess Under the Mistletoe (Royal Babies)

    SexLoveKissing

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    There wasn't an inch of her that he didn't taste -- from the base of her throat to the curve of her waist to the backs of her knees to her candy apple-red toenails. And when he finally tasted the already damp petals of her womanhood, she tangled her fingers in his hair and arched her hips as the tremors of ecstasy shook her body. He felt each spasm as acutely as if she were connected to him.

    — Bonnie Pega, THEN COMES MARRIAGE (Loveswept)

    SexLoveKissing

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    His parted lips followed the curve of her breast. Then he lifted his head and visually devoured her nakedness. He cupped one breast in his hand and played with the dusky crest until it became stiff. Growling with gratification, he ducked his head and whisked it with his tongue, again and again, until Elizabeth clung to him for support.

    He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the palm, then carried it down to his sex. He acquainted her with the dimension, the power and strength, of his desire for her.

    — Sandra Brown, Fanta C

    SexKissingerotica

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    They stand beneath the shower. He nestles himself flat in the meeting of her buttocks. An excruciating douche. He feels unable to move, but he begins to soap her breasts which glisten like seals beneath the flow of water. He scrubs her back. Between the shoulder blades the skin is broken out in small, red points. He goes over them with the cloth. It’s good for them, he tells her. Aureate light is reflected from the ceiling. He has a hard-on he is sure will never disappear.

    — James Salter, A Sport and a Pastime: A Novel (FSG Classics)

    SexLove

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    When she closed her eyes she felt he had many hands, which touched her everywhere, and many mouths, which passed so swiftly over her, and with a wolflike sharpness, his teeth sank into her fleshiest parts. Naked now, he lay his full length over her. She enjoyed his weight on her, enjoyed being crushed under his body. She wanted him soldered to her, from mouth to feet. Shivers passed through her body.

    — Anaïs Nin, Delta of Venus. Erotica By Anais Nin

    SexLoveerotica

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    When he touched her breasts they gave themselves up in quivering ecstasy, inviting his lips. Her mouth was a fountain of delight. And when he possessed her, they seemed to swoon together at the very borderland of life's mystery.

    — Kate Chopin, The Complete Works of Kate Chopin (Southern Literary Studies)

    SexKissing

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    Then as he began to move, in the sudden helpless orgasm, there awoke in her new strange thrills rippling inside her. Rippling, rippling, rippling, like a flapping overlapping of soft flames, soft as feathers, running to points of brilliance, exquisite and melting her all molten inside. It was like bells rippling up and up to a culmination. She lay unconscious of the wild little cries she uttered at the last.

    — D. H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley's Lover (Bantam Classics)

    SexLove

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    As he had already lost his maidenhood long ago, my rod entered far more easily in him than his had done in me, nor did I give him the pain that I had felt, although my tool is of no mean size. He stretched his hole open, the tip entered, he moved a little, half the phallus was plunged in; he pressed down, lifted himself up, then came down again; after one or two strokes the whole turgid column was lodged within his body. When he was well impaled he put his arms around my neck, and hugged and kissed me.

    — Oscar Wilde, Teleny Or The Reverse of the Medal

    SexKissing

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