Kinky Thoughts Quotes

Friday night was the night most people thought they were supposed to have fun. Trouble was most people didn't know what fun was or how to have it, so things usually ended up pretty ugly.

Hey, did you guys..." Duncan was saying when he walked into my room. Apparently, since Finn had left the door open, he thought he could waltz on in. "Sure, everybody just walk on in. It's not like I'm a Princess or anything and this is my private chamber." I sighed. When Duncan saw the bizarre scene, he stopped and motioned to Loki. "Wait. Why is he here? He didn't spend the night with you two, did he?" "Wendy is into some very kinky things that you wouldn't understand," Loki told him with a wink. "Why are you here?" Finn demanded, and his eyes blazed. "Will somebody please tell us what the hell is going on?" "I would, but this is a private conversation." Finn kept his icy gaze locked on Loki, who looked completely unabashed. "Come, now, Finn, there are no secrets between us." Loki grinned and gestured widely to Tove and me.

You're not my matchmaker any longer. But we're still friends, and in the interest of our friendship we need to discuss page thirteen." "Page thirteen ?" "You've accused me of being arrogant. I've always thought of myself as confident, but I'm here to tell you, no more. After studying these pictures... Honey, if this is what you're looking for in a man, I don't think any of us are going to measure up." "I have no idea what you're talking about." "Who knew flexible silicone came in so many colors?" Her sex toy catalog. He'd taken it months ago. She'd hoped he forgotten it by now. " Most of these products are hypoallergenic. That's good, I guess. Some with batteries, some without. I suppose that's a matter of preference. There's a harness on this one. That's pretty kinky. And...Son of a bitch ! It says this one is dishwater safe. I'm sorry but there's just something unappetizing about that.

Stevie: "If you think he's a lecher and all men are disgusting, why do you want me to date?" Zena: "Because, Stevie. Now and then, when the moon is full and bluish, when the galaxy is all calm and peaceful and serenity rules and even the falling stars are falling gracefully, and the wind creates a beautiful song, that's when you find one outstanding man. Kind. Loyal. Funny and smart, great in bed but not kinky. A lover in his head and in his body. A man who doesn't think as a dick-obsessed monkey with a brain the size of a testicle, but one who is thoughtful and can hold his emotions in one hand and hug you close with the other. A man who is a hunky, manly man but who can talk to you like your best girlfriend, because that's what he wants to be for you. Your best friend." (Page 44)

He cleared his throat. “You need to pick a safe word.” “What on earth is a safe word?” He smothered a sigh. This was proving to be more work than he thought it’d be. “It’s a word you use when you want things to stop.” “How about I use the word ‘stop’?” She sounded sarcastic. “That’s not how it works. You need a word that you wouldn’t normally use during sex.” “Fine. How about ‘dumbass’?” “I don’t think you’re getting into the spirit of this.” “Really? You think?” “Fine. Dumbass it is.” There was no dealing with her when she was in this mood. “If you use your safe word, everything stops.” “Good.” She took a deep breath. “Dumbass,” she shouted. Andrew wasn’t sure what to do next. This was not going the way it did in the books.

Matias frowned.  Damn, he’d had a vision of this gorgeous woman naked?  He hadn’t thought he could despise his memory loss any more than he did, but the hits kept on coming.  Wait.  The blonde had said vision... as in the future?  “We’re fated to have sex?”  “No!”  Quinn shook her head so quickly and vehemently that her teeth all but rattled. “You sure?  You can’t seem to stay away from me.”  He looked down at their close proximity.  “I knew I should have left you to rot in the psych ward strapped to that bed.” Matias frowned.  He was having a hard time keeping up with the conversation.  “Kinky.  Or is that another dream you had starring yours truly?

...I looked up at the stars that were really flowers and thought about vanillas who were really kinky folks waiting to be born

Stories are the thing which shapes our kinky and wicked minds.

Charlie Price: But they're comfy. Lola: SEX, shouldn't be comfy! Mel: Thank God, I thought it was just me!

I would never have thought I’d find this so hot in a million years. I’m one kinky mofo. Who knew?

You have chastised me, demeaned me and dismantled me, before bringing me back to life. Who would have thought all of this was possible in a grotty cubicle of the men’s room? You hold me there for some time whilst we both catch our breath. Tentatively I raise one hand from the wall and claw at your dark, luscious hair behind me. I love these tender moments between us just as much as the kinky, depraved ones.

But whenever I tried to pin down this idea of self-esteem, the specific qualities we hoped to inculcate, the specific means by which we might feel good about ourselves, the conversation always seemed to follow a path of infinite regress. Did you dislike yourself because of your color or because you couldn’t read and couldn’t get a job? Or perhaps it was because you were unloved as a child—only, were you unloved because you were too dark? Or too light? Or because your mother shot heroin into her veins … and why did she do that anyway? Was the sense of emptiness you felt a consequence of kinky hair or the fact that your apartment had no heat and no decent furniture? Or was it because deep down you imagined a godless universe? Maybe one couldn’t avoid such questions on the road to personal salvation. What I doubted was that all the talk about self-esteem could serve as the centerpiece of an effective black politics. It demanded too much honest self-reckoning from people; without such honesty, it easily degenerated into vague exhortation. Perhaps with more self-esteem fewer blacks would be poor, I thought to myself, but I had no doubt that poverty did nothing for our self-esteem. Better to concentrate on the things we might all agree on. Give that black man some tangible skills and a job. Teach that black child reading and arithmetic in a safe, well-funded school. With the basics taken care of, each of us could search for our own sense of self-worth.

Well, looks like I’m just kinky, you’re still a door. Damn, I am way more kinky than I thought I was. God that was good, though. Screw it, I’m going to eat more of those fuckin popsicles before bed.” She snickered, sliding off the ottoman and stumbling down the hall with a blissful expression.

I don’t fecking believe it,” Uncle Coilin grumbled. “I could put up with the French, the Italians, the Americans, the Chinese, the Russians.” He continued a list that seemed to take several minutes to complete before concluding: “but I never thought you’d end up with a fecking Englishman.” Hayden stared at Karla open-mouthed. “Is there any nationality you haven’t slept with?” She mused for a few moments. “No-one from Tibet.” “You have some prejudice against Tibetans?” She shook her head. “No. I’ve just never met the right one. Yet.” A grin slowly spread across her face. “Mind you, I bet the Dalai Lama would be awesome.” “I don’t think he has sex.” Waving her hand, she looked at Hayden with mild contempt as Coilin sank his head into his hand. “That’s just marketing and PR bullshit,” she explained breezily. “I bet you, he’d be fantastic in the sack. I mean, it wouldn’t be like shagging the Pope - you know, all kinky shit and getting me to dress up as a young girl. No, he’d be a Tantric master. He’d keep me in a state of orgasm for hours.” Hayden sighed. “I don’t know which is worse: your perverse grasp of theology or the fact you fantasise about sex with the world’s religious leaders.” “It’s the only way to bring us together in peace and harmony,” she replied, smiling sweetly.

Why are you doing this? I don’t want you. Is that the problem? Is your ego so big you can’t handle a woman rejecting you?” “Oh, you want me alright, my sexy little witch. Want me so bad it scares you. Well, I’ve got news for you. It scares the fuck out of me, too. But I don’t care. When the options are settling down with you for life and popping out little demonlings or watching you walk away, I know what I choose.” For a moment, she couldn’t answer, could only gape at him as his words penetrated. Surely, she misunderstood. “What did you say?” “I want you as my mate.” No misunderstanding that time. She tamped down her elation by slapping it with the cold, hard truth. “You’ll hurt me.” “Trust me.” He asked too much. “I’m not the right woman.” “You’re all I want.” She shook her head lest his words weave a spell around her and make her believe. Yet despite all the warnings in her head, hope blossomed and love warmed her. How nice it would be to allow herself to love him. To trust him. Sadness entered his expression at her rejection. “I know it’s hard for you, little witch, but I promise you’ve nothing to fear. Unless the thought of too many orgasms in a row freaks you out.” And that quickly, he changed from pensive male to the one she’d grown to love with the mischievous smile. He lunged. She squealed like a little girl and ran. Not far though. With his ridiculously long stride, he quickly caught her and tossed her over his shoulder. He laughed as she beat at his broad back with her fists. “Save some of that energy for the bedroom because you are not leaving until you admit you care for me.” “I’ll kill you first.” “I like a girl who’s kinky.” “You’re impossible.” “No, but I am horny.” “How are we supposed to catch those souls if we’re fooling around here?” “Some things are more important.” “How can having sex with me be more important than ensuring you don’t burst into flame tomorrow?” “I would let someone beat me with a cat-o-nine too, if you’d just admit you like me.” “I hate you.” “Close. I see we’ll need to work on that.” -Ysabel & Remy

Everybody was reading newspapers and magazines. There was unrest in North Africa. Did these interminable discussions during which points of view concurred or clashed, complemented each other or were vanquished, determine the aspect of the New Africa? The assimilationist dream of the colonist drew into its crucible our mode of thought and way of life. The sun helmet worn over the natural protection of our kinky hair, smoke-filled pipe in the mouth, white shorts just above the calves, very short dresses displaying shapely legs: a whole generation suddenly became aware of the ridiculous situation festering in our midst.

How are you enjoying the holidays so far?” “I never thought Christmas could be like this.” “You mean kinky?” “I mean honest and happy.

Most guys thought they wanted some weird, kinky sex but the minute you bring out the homework? Poof. Vanish. Nada.

Bret’s self-confidence called to Marcus. It wasn’t so much that he thought he was wonderful. It seemed more like Bret knew who he was, and he wasn’t afraid to show it. He wasn’t looking for someone to make him into anything else.

Michaels’ thoughts spiraled out of control. Judge was everything he’d wanted in a man… in a partner. His big, hairy, kinky ass. Damnit. He’d only have him for a short time; he tried to not think about the inevitable yet. He went down on his forearms, his face pressed into Judge’s pillow, breathing in his strong, masculine scent. His ass poised and ready for the taking. Judge thighs were pressed against the backs of his. Those wiry hairs tickling against his own. He shamelessly rubbed his ass along Judge’s shaft, the spit and lube running hotly down his crease. Judge gripped Michaels’ hip and nudged his aching hole first, warning him he was coming in. He was patient and let Judge go at his pace, and he was glad he did; it was the right thing. He

Green gave him that smug grin that drove Ruxs insane. He inched up his body, keeping their contact. He dropped all his weight down on him and kissed him slowly at first, before he released an abysmal groan, vibrating his chest, as he pushed his tongue in deep, deep enough to almost gag him. “Fuck.” Ruxs pushed the back of his head deeper into his pillow, trying to take a much-needed breath. “I’m not done,” Green growled, grasping the back of his neck and shoving his salty tongue back in his mouth again. Ruxs tasted himself on his best friend. It was erotic, kinky, something he’d never experienced before… and he loved it. He kissed Green back just as hard and wildly as he was kissing him now. They kissed, licked, and bit at each other for several more minutes, both of them rolling each other as they fought for dominance. Ruxs finally relented, letting Green pin him down. He panted in his face while he ground his hard cock into his thigh. He tilted his head back at the onslaught. It felt so good. Better than he thought it would. Green’s hard cock pressed up against him. He realized that he’d been on the receiving end of all the pleasure. He hadn’t reciprocated. Ruxs wasn’t a selfish lover, he wanted to satisfy Green too. He pulled one hand free from Green’s hold and ran it down the side of his tough body. His touch was timid and light at first, as he further realized that he had no clue on how to please his partner. “Tell

They drove on, through pretty Schwabisch villages. Every one of them had its Christbaum, a tall evergreen in the center of town, with candles lit as darkness fell, and a star on top. There were also candles in every window, and red-berried holly weaths hung on the doors. By the side of the road, at the entry to each village, stood a sign attacking the Jews. This was, Mercier thought, a kind of competition, for none of the signs were the same. Juden dirfen nicht bleiben - 'Jews must not stay here' - was followed by Wer die Juden unterstuzt fordert den Kommunissmus, 'Who helps the Jews helps communism,' then the dramatic 'This flat-footed stranger, with kinky hair and hooked nose, he shall not our land enjoy, he must leave, he must leave.

We can play now… just do that and that little piece of kinky thoughts… few perverts add and you just got the story.

That’s another difference you and Mal have,” Prophet told him, even as he reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out moisturizer. He leaned forward, feeling for Tom’s wrists, and began to rub the lotion into the sore parts, which made Tom smile and tear up at the same time. “Mal doesn’t do it a lot, but he could.” “I can see that. Be good if he could find someone to do that all the time. The same person.” Tom thoughts immediately went to Cillian. Tom had no clue if the guy was kinky or not, but he definitely didn’t want to think too hard about it. Guess Cillian didn’t mind public sex. But

But when my ex opens the door, her somber expression and baggy sweats do not suggest we’re about to roll around naked. Nor does the toddler asleep on the bed behind her. I’m frozen as Janelle wraps her arms around me in a hug. “I’ve missed you,” she coos in a baby voice. I would not consider myself the paragon of virtue, but there’s no way I’m doing kinky shit with my ex while a kid sleeps a few feet away. I’ve never seen her baby before. When I found out Janelle’s new guy had knocked her up, I did my best to eradicate thoughts of her from my life. It was too painful to see her move on when she’d promised me that future. I only vaguely inquire about her through my cousin Bianca when I plan trips home so I can avoid my ex. As I take a good long look at the sleeping bundle, I stop breathing. Ernest has blond hair. And Janelle has light brown. My eyes are lasered on the kid, who has thick, black hair. Much like mine. Sweat breaks out on my body, and a giant lump forms in my throat. I cough. “What the fuck is going on?” Janelle wrings her hands, tears forming in her eyes. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Why I needed to do this in person. It’s long overdue.” But like all truly messed-up things in my life, I know the answer to my question before the words are out of her mouth. “She’s yours, Ben.” 3 BEN A suffocating, twisting blackness spreads through me as I stare at this woman I once loved.

However, he had been burned. The capsules were not barbiturates, as represented. They were some kind of kinky psychedelics, of a type he had never dropped before, probably a mixture, and new on the market. Instead of quietly suffocating, Charles Freck began to hallucinate. Well, he thought philosophically, this is the story of my life. Always ripped off. He had to face the fact—

wondering what had happened to her vanilla husband who thought it was kinky if they did it in the guest room.

Then she thought about being pressed between their hard bodies, their sweat blending with hers as their cocks shuttled in and out. In and out.

I think I’m a little afraid of having you inside me but also kind of looking forward to it.” Daddy laughs, bouncing my whole body with the sound. “You know, we can always start with the other way if you don’t want to dive right into the deep end.” “Seriously? You do it that way?” I ask, unable to picture it. “Sure. Why is that so hard to believe?” “I don’t know. I can’t imagine you not being in control,” I admit, wrinkling my nose at the very thought. “Oh, baby, I never said I wouldn’t still be the one in charge.” I definitely like the sound of that.

You are everything I’ve ever hoped for, Drew, more than I ever believed I could hope for.” I reach up and wipe a tear that’s slowly making its way down his cheek. “I thought I knew what love was. I was wrong. Only when you came into my life did I truly understand it, feel it. Thank you for giving me something I’ve always longed for.” “What is that, Santa?” “Forever.

Mason: Thing is, your future…me…we’re happening, one way or another. And right now you may only be willing to give us one day at a time, but that’s okay because the future isn’t where you’ll be in 10 years or even 10 months. It can be as simple as 10 minutes from now... Me: Well, I’m pretty sure I’ll still be annoyed with you in 10 minutes. Mason: At least you’ll be thinking about me. Mason: But in 10 hours you’ll be getting over it. And in 10 days you’ll know I was right. And 10 days from there…who knows? Me: You’re a little overly optimistic with your timeline. Mason: I AM the math genius. Me: You’re insanely frustrating. Mason: And always right. Me: Or a giant dick. Mason: Shouldn’t we save sexting for date 5 or 6? Me: Gah! Mason: OK, we can do it now. Geez. Calm down. Me: Good night, Mason. Mason: Way to get me all worked up then leave me high and dry. Me: Well, here’s a parting thought. I’m definitely filled with the desire to do something physical to you. Mason: That works. Me: Strangle you, Mason. I want to strangle you. Mason: Kinky. Mason: One more question. Think we should establish a safe word? Me: OMG. I’m going to hurt you. Mason: Not if we have a safe word. See? I’m thinking ahead. Mason: How about rutabaga? I’ve heard that’s a good one. You like that? Me: Whatever ends this conversation. Mason: Rutabaga it is.