Flat Out Sexy Quotes & Sayings

Shane was just leaving, too."
"What?" he cried.
I slammed my palms flat against his body. Dear God, there were some nice ridges hiding under that shirt! My hands slid up to his pecks and pushed. "Yeah. You have to go now."
"Are you for real?" he asked. He was slowly backing his way through the room, but it had nothing to do with the strength of my push ... or lack thereof.
"Very. I can't. I need to sleep on this."
With a wicked smile, he flattened his hands over mine and sassed, "I'm all for you sleeping on me. Let's go. — Devon Ashley

This is how deeply rooted stories are, folks. We crave them before we can walk, and we start telling them before we can talk. — Patrick Rothfuss

Ally turned
her attention back to Brian Byrne. "So what do you do for a living when you're not searching out
your roots?"
"Have sex with thousands of women." He slanted her a grin that would've knocked her off
her feet if she wasn't already laid out flat by his comment. "Professionally, of course."
"Well, that makes it okay then." A porn star? Her instinct said no. But her instinct had also
thought Dave was a great guy when she first met him. How wrong was that? Hmm. What else
could Brian be? How about crazy? Sounded logical to her. She was alone with a crazy man. A
sexy crazy man, but crazy was still crazy. — Nina Bangs

Rarely do we invest the time to open the book of another's life. When we do, we are usually surprised to find its cover so misleading and its reviews so flawed. — Richard Paul Evans

Patriotism is often an arbitrary veneration of real estate above principles. — George Jean Nathan

I can't help it. I'm thinking about sex. Sex with Will Haley. Sex in general. The thing is, I can't make my brain turn the idea into something sexy. Isn't that ridiculous? It's sex. It's inherently sexy. But not to me. Because in hazily lit movies, when the girl pulls her shirt up over her head, she stops being me. The hazily lit girl is never me. She has a flat golden stomach and cute little boobs, and you can see the boy falling for her. You can read it on his face. Under my shirt, there's no flat stomach, and there are no cute little boobs, and there's no hazy lighting. It's just a lot of me. Way too much of me. — Becky Albertalli

Love is the source and goal, faith is the slow process of getting there, and hope is the willingness to move forward without resolution and closure. And these are indeed, 'the three things that last' (1 Corinthians 13:13). People who have these gifts - faith, hope, and love - are indestructible. — Richard Rohr

The full moon
reflected in water,
the water
contained in the bowl,
and the thirsty man

deep in sleep. — Abbas Kiarostami

Because Tammy is in there making like her feet hate each other, and they don't
need us around for it. — Erin McCarthy

I think that everyone wants sexy hair, and when they think of sexy hair they think of volume - they don't think about flat, limp, lifeless hair. But for some women, it's hard to achieve because we're constantly buying these volumizing shampoos [that] leave a residue in your hair ... — Chrissy Teigen

Erotic longing is really a longing to merge with something greater than oneself. For every kind of love is a force that holds the promise of taking us beyond the limitations of our individual lives. — Julianne Davidow

If you're a guy, the mystical secret to a sexy stomach is to get your body fat percentage under 12%. Yup, that's it. When your body fat percentage approaches 10%, your abs become clearly visible whether you directly train them or not. If you're a woman, getting your body fat percentage under 20% will get you a flat, lean, toned stomach. That's all there is to it — Inc. Waterbury Publishers

Would she flee if she knew the thoughts I kept in my mind? My hands went to her flat stomach. My fingers sank in the soft tan flesh around her waist. One day her belly would be full of my children and her mind would only be focused on me. — Kenya Wright

There's nothing surprising about a Catholic being Islamophobic or a Muslim being Cathophobic - that is precisely what their religious shepherds ask them to be. Disapproval of the other guy's religion is the daily bread of clerics of all creeds, and nobody seems to be bothered by it. Priests, imams, and rabbis have the right to be Islamophobic, Judeophobic, or Cathophobic without reprimand. — Charb

I always try and mix High Street finds into my looks. It really doesn't matter how much something costs, it's the way you wear it! Fashion is about self expression, having fun, and occasionally being a little disposable. I really enjoy lots of stores that are found at local shopping malls. French Connection, Zara, and Topshop always interpret the fashions direct from the catwalk at affordable prices. This playsuit from Hoss Intropia is delicate, super sexy, and has a lingerie feel. I'd throw on a super soft, chunky cardigan and a pair of flat gladiator sandals. — Cat Deeley

I'm always focused. — Floyd Mayweather Jr.

It's almost like that's the definition of being American: You love becoming Irish for a day, or becoming Italian ... Or becoming a Negro for four years. — Josh Alan Friedman

Paris came down the stairs looking incredible. He'd gone with the simple classic look of the tight white T-shirt,
the low-slung jeans that showed off a glimpse of his flat belly, and a black leather jacket. His hair was perfectly mussed, a
calculated look that seemed natural and sexy. At the bottom of the staircase, he turned around slowly, holding his arms out
to his sides. "Well, how do I look?"

Damn. "Like I want to rip your clothes off right this second. You're gonna kill that kid. He's going to explode, and they're going
to have to scrape his remains off the wall."

"Yeesh, I was with you until you got descriptive."

"Can't help it. You make me poetic."

"I thought I made you horny."

"Same damn thing. — Andrea Speed

Without warning, Wesley lifted me up onto the pool table. His hands moved to my shoulders, and a second later, I was flat on my back, staring up at him as he smirked. He shifted so that he was on the table too, leaning over me with his face only inches from mine.
"On the pool table?" I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "Seriously?"
"I can't resist," he said. "You know, you're pretty sexy when you're pissed at me, Duffy."
First, I was struck by the irony of that statement. I mean, he used sexy and Duffy-implying I was fat and ugly-in the same sentence. The contrast was almost laughable. Almost. — Kody Keplinger

I'm not against god, I'm against the misuse of god. — Marilyn Manson

I swear. Tell someone you're a vampire or a werewolf and they think it's sexy. Tell someone you're a witch and they go from zero to Torquemada in three seconds flat. — Laura Oliva

Another question a biblically literate reporter might have asked is, "Why are you proclaiming the Ten Commandments when you believe no one can live up to all of them?" — Cal Thomas

Her honey-blonde hair is strewn across her face as she sways her head. She's working a red sequined bikini separated by a tan, flat stomach, and a butterfly tattoo resting on her left hip. Her legs are clad in black fishnets that run into a pair of white-heeled boots - still a knockout. — Kevin James Moore

I love you, Meg. I want to
marry you. I want to sleep with you every night, make love with you, have kids. I want to fight together and
work together and - just be together. Now are you going to keep standing there, staring at me, or could
you put me out of my misery and say you still love me, at least a little? — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

The writer, an old man with a white mustache, had some difficulty in getting into bed. — Sherwood Anderson

Suzanne glanced over at her, eyebrow raised. "Is there an anaconda?" she asked, like it had suddenly occurred to her she could be totally wrong.
Tamara should only be so lucky. "No, there's no anaconda, I can promise you that." Not even a garden snake. — Erin McCarthy

Sing me a pretty love song as I start to cry
Tell me you love me as you wipe the blood from my eye
Tell me why the only one who can wipe away my tears
Is the only one who's the source of all my fears — Rachel Lloyd

Isabelle had been trained to wake up early every morning, rain or shine, and a slight hangover did nothing to prevent it from happening again. She sat up slowly and blinked down at Simon. She'd never spent and entire night in a bed with anyone else, unless you counted crawling into her parents bed when she was four and afraid of thunderstorms. She couldn't help staring at Simon as if he were some exotic species of animal. He lay on his back, his mouth slightly open, his hair in his eyes. Ordinary brown hair, ordinary brown eyes. His t-shirt was pulled up slightly. He wasn't muscular like a shadowhunter. He had a smooth flat stomach but no six-pack, and there was still a hint of softness to his face. What was it about him that fascinated her? He was plenty cute, but she had dated gorgeous faerie knights, sexy shadowhunters ...
"Isabelle," Simon said without opening his eyes. "Quit staring at me. — Cassandra Clare

She'd stutter all the reasons why she shouldn't, shaking her head adamantly. But her body..her body would grow hot with excitement. She'd get wet at the thrill of it. So fucking wet that i'd smell her, telling me she's not even wearing panties to smother her spicy scent.
When my hand touched hers, still clutched to her chest, she'd flinch but she wouldn't pull away. She'd let me guide it between her swollen breasts and down to her flat belly, brushing the bit of exposed skin where the hem of her shirt rides up. Then I'd let her fingers play with the jewel in her navel, manipulating each digit as if that diamond-studded barbell was her clit. Demonstrating how I would stroke it for her. — S.L. Jennings