Don't Spread Your Legs Quotes & Sayings

Alasdair yanked a pillow, shoving it under his arse. "I think you'll find I'm a heavy but remarkably fit and supple git, thank you very much." He spread his legs wide open and leered.
"With real self-esteem issues." Cosmo deadpanned.
"I will have if you don't hurry up and make love to me."
"Make love?" Aww, that's sweet."
"Less talking. More shagging."
"Yes, boss!" Cosmo saluted with his free hand ... — Josephine Myles

My hands are heavy and most importantly they are very fast. I have been called the fastest white man alive. I don't work submissions and not because I am trying to prove something I'm just frankly not very good at 'em. I am very good at getting away. I've never fought anybody whether it was in practice or competition who could hold me down. Even if I thought I could get a submission I'm not laying underneath a grown man with my legs spread on worldwide T.V. Some guys subscribe to that theory but I am a Republican and we don't do that — Chael Sonnen

People think blood red, but blood don't got no colour. Not when blood wash the floor she lying on as she scream for that son of a bitch to come, the lone baby of 1785. Not when the baby wash in crimson and squealing like it just depart heaven to come to hell, another place of red. Not when the midwife know that the mother shed too much blood, and she who don't reach fourteen birthday yet speak curse 'pon the chile and the papa, and then she drop down dead like old horse. Not when blood spurt from the skin, on spring from the axe, the cat-o'-nine, the whip, the cane and the blackjack and every day in slave life is a day that colour red. It soon come to pass when red no different from white or blue or black or nothing. Two black legs spread wide and mother mouth screaming. A black baby wiggling in blood on the floor with skin darker than midnight but the greenest eyes anybody ever done seen. I goin' call her Lilith. You can call her what they call her. — Marlon James

You made this fucking sound, Hayden. The first time you spread your legs to take my cock. I hear it everywhere I go. This goddamn ... moan? Sob? I don't know. All I know is if I don't fuck that sound out of you again soon, I'm going to completely lose my mind. — Tessa Bailey

Look at you sitting here with your legs spread and my cock so fucking deep I don't think I'll ever leave. Jesus, Addison. I thought you were perfect before. Now I fucking know it. — Ella Frank

I look at sex differently than most people. It's an exchange, and it should be good for both parties. I don't want you to spread your legs and let me have you because you want someone to hold you. If you want me to hold you, ask me. I want you to spread your legs because you can't wait another single second for my cock. I want that pussy ripe and ready and weeping for a big dick to split it wide and have its way. I want your nipples to peak because I walk into a room and you remember every dirty thing I can do to them. I want you to want me. I can make you crave me. I don't want some drive-by fucking that gets me off and I forget it five minutes later. I want to fuck all night long. I want to feel it all the next day because my cock got so used to being deep inside your body. If that's what you want, then get dressed in the sexiest thing you own and agree that I'm the boss when it comes to sex. — Lexi Blake

I want you to grab hold of the brass spindles and don't let go." When she did as he required, he spread her legs wider. "Hold tight, baby. This is going to feel so good. — Maggie Adams

This is like the end of The Corrections," I say and the problem with books is that they end. They seduce you. They spread their legs to you and pull you inside. And you go deep and leave your possessions and your ties to the world at the door and you like it inside and you don't want for your possessions or your ties and then, the book evaporates. You turn the page and there is nothing and we are both crying. — Caroline Kepnes

The whale house has not changed much. It still stands under the silk cotton tree, its windows shuttered and closed. When she pushes open the door, they don't see her. They are up under the window where the light is green and dim. Aidan is between Ivy's spread, honey legs. Ivy sees her first and makes a strangled cry, trying to push Aidan off and cover her breasts. Aidan climbs to his knees and turns to the door. Behind him, she catches a glimpse of Ivy, the pubic hair waxed to a tiny strip above the neat pink slit, the centre moist and slick. Aidan's face is shocked, moon-like in the dim light, his pants around his knees. Chuck — Sharon Millar

Her heart is racing, blood pulsing fast beneath my finger, and she's taking these tiny sharp breaths. It turns me on in a way I don't even understand. Normally, the skittish, inexperienced types send me running. But the thought of teaching her anything makes my jeans feel too tight. I want her on her back in my bed, legs spread wide, eyes big and blue, lips parted, mouth babbling that nervous nonsense until I make her forget what she's saying, forget how to talk altogether. I want to forget myself in her, too, steal some of her sunshine, and give this pristine, perfect girl a taste of what it's like to get a little dirty. — Cora Carmack