Massaging Quotes & Sayings

Inside, the midwife was trying to get Socorro to open her mouth wide and let the pain come out. "Open your mouth," said Angelina, massaging Socorro's neck and shoulders, "and let out what you feel. Don't keep it in, querida, let it out."
Socorro cried softly at first, but little by little she loosened up and she began to let out long, ear-piercing screams.
"Good," said the midwife, "now breathe deeply, deeply, and then cry out again, letting all the pain go out of your body. — Victor Villasenor

I think it is such a privilege to give a baby its first home inside your body. [After the pregnancy was over] I found myself massaging my stomach gently. I miss him being in my body
stretching, hiccupping even. It was a wonderful, deep, loving, fulfilling feeling. — Celine Dion

And I get it, okay? I mean, look at him. I'd bang that drum, too. All I'm saying is, if you don't want your overprotective sister meddling in your business, find someone else to massage your lady bits."

"I'm partial to massaging my own lady bits, actually. I have no problem getting my own kinks out."

"Yes, well, more power to you then. But I, for one, am getting carpal tunnel syndrome with all the self-massaging I've been doing as of late. — Mia Sosa

convince you there's life after the military, though," Tyler added. Joe towered behind his wife's chair, massaging — Kate Aster

At the next Goat Guys show, the band came on stage with their wings, their haunches, their horns. The audience swooned at their feet.
Cherokee spun and spun until she was dizzy, until she was not sure anymore if she or the stage was in motion.
Afterwards two girls in lingerie and over-the-knee leather boots offered a joint to Raphael and Angel Juan. All four of them were smoking backstage when Cherokee and Witch Baby came through the door.
Witch Baby went and wriggled onto Angel Juan's lap. He was wearing the horns and massaging his temples. His face looked constricted with pain until he inhaled the smoke from the joint.
"Are you okay?" Witch Baby asked.
"My head's killing me. — Francesca Lia Block

Do you see why I avoid humans, ma cherie? They are silly, exasperating creatures.
You like him.You can't hide it from me, even if you try to hide it from yourself. Invite him home.
Not for all the trees on this earth.
I want to meet him.
Savannah. She was up to no good, he was certain of it. Gregori's hand went to the back of his neck, massaging deeply. What I should do is scare the holy hell out of him so he will get over this nonsense.
"So,are you?" Gary asked.
"Am I what?" Gregori was distracted. Why had he ever talked to this fool in the first place? Because Savannah was making him crazy. Savannah had made him do something dumb. He had read Gary's mind and found him to be an interesting, likeable person.
Don't blame me. She sounded innocent. — Christine Feehan

He slipped off my shoes and began massaging the soles of my feet with his skilled hands. If it's one thing a guitarist knows, it's how to use his fingers. — Dannika Dark

rubbing the ointment into the creases of his knuckles, massaging — Diana Gabaldon

If you can be heard then you exist, mutters hungover Bank, massaging her temples. — Fredrik Backman

Judge sucked harder, starting a fast rhythm. Michaels couldn't help but close his eyes and pant through the exhilaration. As soon as Judge slipped his thick digit deep inside him, Michaels yelled out his bliss, not caring who could hear him. "Judge! Fuck!" That finger shoved in as deep as he could get it and Michaels' come exploded up his shaft, shooting onto his chest. Judge growled, rubbing Michaels' seed into his skin. Aggressively massaging the pearly liquid into his strained pecs. He — A.E. Via

Love makes your heart flutter, like millions of butterflies dancing around in your belly. Love puts a smile on your face while playing musical notes that gently strum your heart. Love holds your hand, stroking it tenderly, massaging little slices of your soul. — Beth Michele

The corporate right and the political right declared class warfare on working people a quarter of a century ago and they've won ... Take the paradox of Rush Limbaugh, ensconced in a Palm Beach mansion massaging the resentments across the country of white-knuckled wage earners, who are barely making ends meet in no small part because of the corporate and ideological forces for whom Rush has been a hero. — Bill Moyers

Mimi was massaging Salander's back and neck. She had been kneading intently for 20 minutes while Salander mainly enjoyed herself and uttered an occasional groan of pleasure. A massage from Mimi was a fantastic experience, and she felt like a kitten who just wanted to purr and wave its paws around. — Stieg Larsson

Michaels lay back over him, massaging his back, his shoulders, kissing across the tense blades, his mouth lingering and warm. "You are so sexy, Judge. Everything about you calls to me." Michaels lined his cock up as he spoke soothingly into Judge's ear. "From the time I saw you walk into my department, I wanted to claim you." Judge's — A.E. Via

She glanced at her watch. He'd been massaging his legs for half an hour. "I think that's enough," she said firmly. "Don't you want to go back to bed?"
He straightened up in the wheelchair and his teeth flashed in a grin. "Baby, I'm so tired of that bed, the only way you could get me back in it would be if you crawled in there with me. — Linda Howard

Then, noticing that the great God was as excited as she was, she decided to empty his sperm sacs for him. And thus she set upon massaging his organ of love in the manner Amphitrite had taught all the Goddesses how to massage Poseidon's. And when she noticed that his hot sperm would soon be delivered, she opened her mouth wide to receive it, since she was in love with him. And she swallowed his seed in the manner Mortal women swallowed their husbands' seed, out of love. — Nicholas Chong

Here's the "explorer" paragraph: Lydia swayed into him, her back arching, but his hands caught her. His warm hand splayed wide against her upper back. The other ventured lower, massaging circles, lower, lower. Edwards's hands, like his kisses, belonged to an explorer, not a ruthless conqueror. Testing and checking, his firm but gentle caresses enticed her into his web of curiosity and question. His kisses, his touch were not the rehearsed moves of a long-practiced rake, but genuine affection and sensuality braided into an explosive mix that promised to incinerate them on the spot if they didn't stop. — Gina Conkle

These days I keep a journal, so I'm constantly sketching down my thoughts, or lines that come to me ... ideas for songs. And then when I have a moment to myself, I'll sit down with my guitar and open my journal, and start kind of massaging things together, and see if a song takes shape. Or sometimes, I'll just be hanging out with my guitar and come up with a chord progression or a lick, and that'll sort of sit around for a while waiting to marry itself to some words. So it's sort of haphazard and it's like ... junk culture. I go around finding shiny objects and I glue them together laughs. — Ani DiFranco

He reached over and took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. He toyed with my fingers for a while, then brought my hand up to his lips and kissed them slowly, one by one.
"What did you want to talk about tonight, Kelsey?"
"Uh ... " What the heck did I want to talk about? For the life of me, I couldn't remember. Oh yeah. I shook off my reaction to him and braced myself.
"Ren, I would kind of prefer it if you would sit across from me so I can see you. You're a little less distracting from over there."
He laughed at me. "Okay, Kells. Whatever you say."
He slid a chair across from me and then sat down. Leaning over, he picked up my foot and brought it up to his lap.
I twitched my leg. "What are you doing?"
"Relax. You seem tense." He began massaging my foot. I started to protest, but he just gave me a look. — Colleen Houck

I have nothing against investment banking, but it's like massaging money rather than creating money. If you're in physics, you create inventions, you create lasers, you create transistors, computers, GPS. — Michio Kaku

It went on. Each lie I told required another to thicken the paste over the previous. It was useless, like when I learned to crochet and made a long string of loops. Being useless builds character, Miss Paulsen had said. Perhaps she was home now, drinking a weak Earl Grey from last night's tea bag, massaging her taffied scalp. — Ruta Sepetys

I actually met Larson [Paine] on Larchmont in Los Angeles. He was eating and he stopped me because I was massaging my larynx. I was doing a show and trying to loosen up my throat. He had sort of this southern vibe about eating alone and talking to people. And it was funny because I had just having eaten with Larry O'Keefe and Nell Benjamin. — Laura Bell Bundy

What stop-motion does best is present real objects magically brought to life in a very imperfect situation; the hand of the artist is there, the electricity of someone touching, massaging and torturing themselves to get life out of an inanimate object. — Henry Selick

And Clare, always Clare. Clare in the morning all sleepy and crumple-faced. Clare with her arms plunging into the papermaking vat, pulling up the mold and shaking it so, and so, to meld the fibers. Clare reading with her hair hanging over the back of the chair, massaging balm into her cracked red hands before bed. Clare's low voice is in my ear often.
I hate to be where she is not, when she is not. And yet, I am always going, and she cannot follow. — Audrey Niffenegger

You know, I've lived a long time," he told me, massaging my calf more firmly now. "And I met a lot of people. But I ain't never met a woman made me want to beat her to death as often as you. — Karen Chance

Hand taste, however, involves something greater than mere flavor. It is the infinitely more complex experience of a food that bears the unmistakable signature of the individual who made it - the care and thought and idiosyncrasy that that person has put into the work of preparing it. Hand taste cannot be faked, Hyeon Hee insisted, and hand taste is the reason we go to all this trouble, massaging the individual leaves of each cabbage and then folding them and packing them in the urn just so. What hand taste is, I understood all at once, is the taste of love. — Michael Pollan

Oh my goodness, Luke's massaging your arm! Isn't that sweet? Good Ava trilled in my ear.
Jump him! Rip his pants off! Bad Ava shouted in my other ear. — Kristen Ashley

That's sweet. Nice of you." Johnson put his hands in his pockets. Dove couldn't help but wonder if he was massaging a sore bag of testicles. Dove looked around, and Johnson shuffled his feet. It seemed neither knew what to say, but she hoped neither wanted to part ways either.
Johnson's default was always medical.
"How's your infection?"
Die. Die. Kill me.
"It's ... cleared up ... nicely." Dove twisted her hand into her hair. — Debra Anastasia

Well, let's see. Guardians spend all their time watching out for
others, risking their lives, and wearing bad shoes. Me? I have great
shoes, am currently massaging a pretty girl, and sleep in an awesome
bed."
I made a face. "Let's not talk about where you sleep, okay? — Richelle Mead

You are gonna get it now sweetheart," he grunted, seizing her nipples and massaging them roughly.
"Aw, what are you gonna do Max? Blow a load and get all sad about it afterwards? — Eve Dangerfield

It seems like he's keeping my foot within his grasp for longer than necessary when I see his eyes wander up my legs again. I tingle in every spot his gaze touches.
His voice sends shivers up my spine when he asks, "Have you ever been fucked, Eve?"
My eyelids flutter and I let out a small surprised gasp at his question, breath gushing from my lips. I'm not exactly a virgin, not too far off though, and I can safely say that I have never been fucked in the way that Phoenix is insinuating. Most of the sex I've had has been the fantasy kind. Our eyes lock and he moves his hand from the heel of my foot up along the back of my leg, massaging my shin.
I actually moan when his fingers press in, releasing the tension from a knotted muscle. His mouth opens as he watches me.
"I don't think that's a very appropriate question to ask of a friend," I finally manage to croak out.
He smiles darkly. "I told you I was bad news. — Raine Anthony

He fingered her nape, massaging his sensual intent. I'll give you whatever you want whenever you want it. Any time of day, you need relief, just crook your finger and I'll crook mine. Against you, inside you, deep as you need it. If I'm not around, text me and I'll come, ready to make you come. For one week, I'll fulfill every fantasy on demand and get you off so many times we'll break records. — Kate Meader

If God had intended us to be alone, there would be more pleasure in massaging our own shoulders. — Robert Breault

When he finished cleaning my open wounds, he found a jar of salve and began rubbing it into the rough parts of my skin. I sort of got lost in the feel of his hands massaging mine. — Richelle Mead

I am a private person, but I will reveal this about myself: if you start massaging my shoulders, don't expect me to tell you to stop. — Robert Breault

The minute you start compromising for the sake of massaging somebody's ego, that's it, game over. — Gordon Ramsay

Yet the drive to assess the performance of workers and to measure forms of labor which, by their nature, are resistant to quantification, has inevitably required additional layers of management and bureaucracy. What we have is not a direct comparison of workers' performance or output, but a comparison between the audited representation of that performance and output. Inevitably, a short-circuiting occurs, and work becomes geared towards the generation and massaging of representations rather than to the official goals of the work itself. — Mark Fisher

I listened so hard because it felt like, while she was telling me stories, she was massaging my soul, letting me know that I was not alone, that I will never have to be alone, that there are friends and family and churches and coffee shops. I was not going to be cast into space. — Donald Miller

Frank keeps massaging his gun, and something about the motion - gentle, almost, like he's willing it to life - makes me feel sick. — Lauren Oliver

You don't get to make that decision," replied Jon, his fingers massaging the captain's shoulder softly. "I nearly lost my head out there today; I was absolutely terrified. Then something reminded me why I am here. This is my home, Baltsaros. You are my home. I've thought this many times, but there is nowhere I would rather be. It's here or nowhere. I think I'm speaking for the both of us. — Bey Deckard

Trying to "fix" the people in your life that cause you pain is like massaging your shoes because your feet ache. — Guy Finley

I smashed his hand as hard as I could with the Wiffle bat.
"Ow!" he screamed.
Carson was rubbing his red palm, inspecting it for damage. "That hurt," he shrieked. "You really hurt me."
"Right back at you," I said. "Good-bye Carson."
He frowned, massaging his hand, the big baby. "I just wanted to end this nicely."
"Yeah?" I cocked the bat up to hit him again. "Well, this time you don't get what you want. — Rachel Vail

Syn." Furi's back arched off the cool sheets, needing to be touched by him. He'd prefer that touch to be on his cock, but anywhere would suit him. Syn started at Furi's knee and licked his way up. Syn lifted Furi's leg onto his shoulder and licked behind his knee while massaging his calf. Alternating licking both thighs, Syn slowed considerably when his face nestled into Furi's balls. "Oh God," Furi groaned, looking down his tight torso at Syn. So sexy between his spread knees looking like he didn't know what part of Furi's body he wanted to feast on first. Syn — A.E. Via

An itinerant masseur, massaging the politically erogenous zones. — David Lange

We had never taken a shower together. We had never even been in the same bathroom together. "Don't flush," I'd said, "I want to look." What I saw brought out strains of compassion, for him, for his body, for his life, which suddenly seemed so frail and vulnerable. "Our bodies won't have secrets now," I said as I took my turn and sat down. He had hopped into the bathtub and was just about to turn on the shower. "I want you to see mine," I said. He did more. He stepped out, kissed me on the mouth, and, pressing and massaging my tummy with the flat of his hand, watched the whole thing happen. — Andre Aciman

Are we almost done with the gushing and the weeping?" said Thorne, massaging his temple. "When do we start planning a revolution again?" This time, it was Iko that kicked him. — Marissa Meyer

Oh good, you're ready."
"No, I've only just got out of the bath. What should I put on?"
"Put on?" he says in obvious mystification.
"Well I've only got a towel on." When he still doesn't get it I sigh. God, he's so dense sometimes. "Charlie, I haven't got any knickers on," I mutter.
His eyes seem to darken and then he starts laughing. "Mabel, I'm shocked. What sort of massages have you been having? I'm not massaging down there however much you expect it. I'm not that type of boy! — Lily Morton

Lotte watched Peter's fingers gently massaging his forehead and felt a wave of affection. The slightest stress - anxiety, embarrassment, confusion - brought his hand to his brow, like a thumb to the mouth of a child. — Prue Leith

Being found out, that's not the worst part, Harry now realizes. The anger, the pain, all the things that will inevitably follow this moment, they're just the fallout. This is the worst moment, the flash point, the cataclysm. For as Harry holds the eyes of his wife, he sees confusion in them--genuine puzzlement--and this is the deepest blow: the realization that until this moment it could not possibly have occurred to her that he would lie to her. But, of course, she doesn't know about all the little lies that preceded this grand one, the painstaking edifice of deceit that's about to collapse. He has hurled a brick through her trust, and although he may spend the rest of his life collecting every last shard, massaging the creaky, fractured pane back into a whole, it will always be warped, irregular, distorting the view on both sides. — Mark Sarvas

One of my favorite days, yes. All day, massaging Harrison Ford. That was rough. — Jacqueline Obradors

Everything ... has to be resolved through rhythms. You're constantly massaging each form, trying to get it home, pushing further and further until these all coalesce into a marvellous kind of rhythm that reveals the life of the painting. — Leland Bell

Though her body fit with his like a puzzle piece, his mind was an ever-shifting riddle she felt she could study her whole life and never fully solve. She spent the most time touching him, caressing him, massaging the secrets from his shoulders and embarrassments from his lower back. — Thomm Quackenbush

Abdominal Massage When I went to massage school and learned how to perform abdominal massage, I understood just how powerful it could be for relieving constipation and indigestion. You can perform massage on yourself, and I strongly encourage you to do it morning and night for five minutes. It will definitely improve your situation. Here's how to do it: 1. Lie down in a comfortable place, place a pillow underneath your knees, and put a little lotion or massage oil (such as my Belly Massage Oil) on your hands. 2. Beginning in your lower right pelvic area, gently apply pressure and massage in small circles, slowly moving upward toward your rib cage. 3. When you get to the right side of your rib cage, gently but firmly massage toward the outer edge of your left rib cage. 4. Work your way down the left side of your torso toward your groin area. 5. As you massage, you may find some areas that are tender when you apply pressure. Spend a little more time in those areas, massaging gently but — Tieraona Low Dog

Epsom salts. It felt wonderful. After massaging them with Vitamin E oil, Sue returned — Wodke Hawkinson

The raw urgency in Rob's voice sent fresh blood flooding into Emily's already swollen sex. She squirmed. feeling her orgasm approaching. Fast.
"Say it again," Rob ground out, dragging one hand up her torso until his fingers found her breast. He cupped its weight, worshipping its form through the soft fabric of her dress.
She gasped again, arching her back. "I want you," she panted, the sensations his fingers on her breast created almost stealing her ability to speak. "I want you. I have from the very - "
He didn't let her finish. His lips claimed hers, his hand squeezing and massaging her breast as his tongue plundered her mouth. He pinched her nipple with hungry force, his tongue matching the ferocity of the caress. Her body burned with pleasure at his feverish actions, the undeniable desire each stoke of his tongue, each flick of his fingers wrought on her body pushing her closer and closer to eruption. — Lexxie Couper

Railing at scientists for massaging tree-ring statistics won't stop the globe from warming if the globe is actually, you know, warming. — Clive Thompson

But Bryony knew what he was feeling, and about three weeks after the massaging had begun, she gave him a potion that Eswara had given her, a concoction of cinnamon, mace, cloves, nutmeg and lavender which she had said would send the blood rushing through all parts of his anatomy. All. — Sorcha MacMurrough