Riding In Tandem Quotes

There's magic in the unknown; a brooding fertility in the unknowable that can work on the reader's imagination long after a book is finished.

Many of us would not make terribly interesting characters in a novel.

We begin to understand that to co-parent is to one day look up and notice that you are on a roller coaster with another human being. You are in the same car, strapped down side by side and you can never, ever get off. There will never be another moment in your lives when your hearts don't rise and fall together, when your stomach doesn't churn in tandem, when you stop seeing huge hills emerge in the distance and simultaneously grab the sides of the car and hold on tight. No one except for the one strapped down beside you will ever understand the particular thrills and terrors of your ride.

We begin to understand that to coparent is to one day look up and notice that you are on a roller coaster with another human being. You are in the same car, strapped down side by side and you can never, ever get off. There will never be another moment in your lives when your hearts don't rise and fall together, when your minds don't race and panic together, when your stomachs don't churn in tandem, when you stop seeing huge hills emerge in the distance and simultaneously grab the side of the car and hold on tight. No one except for the one strapped down beside you will ever understand the particular thrills and terrors of your ride.

He stood hat in hand over the unmarked earth. This woman who had worked for his family fifty years. She had cared for his mother as a baby and she had worked for his family long before his mother was born and she had known and cared for the wild Grady boys who were his mother's uncles and who had all died so long ago and he stood holding his hat and he called her his abuela and he said goodbye to her in Spanish and then turned and put on his hat and turned his wet face to the wind and for a moment he held out his hands as if to steady himself or as if to bless the ground there or perhaps as if to slow the world that was rushing away and seemed to care nothing for the old or the young or rich or poor or dark or pale or he or she. Nothing for their struggles, nothing for their names. Nothing for the living or the dead. In four days' riding he crossed the Pecos at Iraan Texas and rode up out of the river breaks where the pumpjacks in the Yates Field ranged against the skyline rose and dipped like mechanical birds. Like great primitive birds welded up out of iron by hearsay in a land perhaps where such birds once had been…..The desert he rode was red and red the dust he raised, the small dust that powdered the legs of the horse he rode, the horse he led. In the evening a wind came up and reddened all the sky before him. There were few cattle in that country because it was barren country indeed yet he came at evening upon a solitary bull rolling in the dust against the bloodred sunset like an animal in sacrificial torment. The bloodred dust blew down out of the sun. He touched the horse with his heels and rode on. He rode with the sun coppering his face and the red wind blowing out of the west across the evening land and the small desert birds flew chittering among the dry bracken and horse and rider and horse passed on and their long shadows passed in tandem like the shadow of a single being. Passed and paled into the darkening land, the world to come.

Ils avaient appris à vivre et à aimer ensemble, s’accommodant de leurs différences, fermant les yeux sur leurs désaccords. Parce que c’était ainsi : on s’était choisi, on formait un tandem, et à tout prendre, puisqu’il n’était pas envisageable d’y mettre un terme, mieux valait faire en sorte que le voyage soit agréable.

It’s just like riding a bike, pretty girl, only this time you get to ride a tandem bike.

The Beast   Her flesh shook wildly with his zeal His mounting thrusts and grouses  Her dangling breasts, the scene surreal Hanging low in bestial crouches   She didn’t enjoy this rough and tumble, The discomfort on her knees The ignominious avowal That indulged his boorish needs.   It must be humiliation, The yearning need to dominate, Or perhaps subjugation Relentless craving to tailgate   Coitus more ferarum Such cheeky form complied, Should I pretend delirium To assuage his fragile pride?   “Is this what you like?” he groans, Panting his impending crest As she patiently marks his moans A rousing book might be best.     His hard appendage, badge of jock The emblem of his gender He struts and prances like a cock The self-confident contender   To take a woman from behind Subjugate her femininity In favor of a selfish grind The bestial superiority   Other problems are created By this brutish currier Air with thrusting is injected Magnifying discomfiture   In erogenous responses Tis anatomy prevails In a woman’s breaths and arches That would exorcise travails   Don’t you realize that, fool, A woman’s body is a canvas So come with brush and paint and oil To flaunt your vibrant feathers.   Two bodies tangled in emotion Excite my inner essence As you ride into oblivion Rejoin my acquiescence.   Sex is relished done in tandem, Essence of anatomy Locus charm of lotus blossom As you make a play for me.

The charity’s national survey, published in 2021, found that for 64% of disabled cyclists cycling is easier than walking – and for 59% their cycle is their mobility aid. Of 245 survey respondents more than half (60%) used standard bicycles, 26% tricycles or recumbents, 16.6% cycles and 8.53% tandems.

Sloane gasped at the amazing sensation. At the stretch and pull. Had anything felt so good in the history of ever? Their eyes met when he was fully inside. He felt it too. How perfect this all was. Then they were kissing again as August slid in and out of her in a slow, perfect rhythm. His fingers rubbed against her clit. She was so close. So close. But the couch's width only allowed a certain amount of movement. She needed more. She hummed her frustration. Her hum increased in volume when he slid out of her without returning. "Shh," he murmured. Then, before she could blink, she was draped over the arm of the couch and he was thrusting into her from behind. Oh, wow. This was better. She hadn't thought that was possible, but she was thrilled to be proven wrong. This angle allowed him to go deeper. Fill her completely. He twisted his hips, changing the angle slightly. It was too much. Perfect. Unyielding. She turned her head for another wild, incandescent kiss. He filled his hands with her breasts, alternatively massaging and pinching her nipples. Through it all, his hips never stopped their magical motion. Sensations were bombarding her from every angle, leaving her gasping for air. "Touch yourself," he commanded in her ear. It didn't occur to her to argue. Even as he continued to thrust in and out of her, she eagerly slid her fingers between her slick folds, coating her digits in her wetness. Pleasuring herself was nothing new. Men were often temporary, but vibrators were forever. But this, being with August while she saw to her own pleasure, was amazing. Her clit, now so sensitive, sent bolts of feeling through her as she rubbed it the way she'd mastered over the years. "That's right. Get yourself off while you ride my dick." His low, deep voice in her ear spurred her on as he twisted her right nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through her body. She cried out in ecstasy as she moved in tandem with him, pushing her hips down as he thrust inside her. She wanted to give him all that he was giving her. His tortured groan was everything she wanted to hear. "My dick loves how wet you are.