My Thighs Quotes & Sayings

This time of year, I live and breathe the beach. My cheeks feel raw with the wind throwing sand against them. My thighs sting from the friction of
the saddle. My arms ache from holding up two thousand pounds of horse. I have forgotten what it is like to be warm and what a full night's sleep feels like and what my name sounds like spoken instead of shouted across yards of sand.
I am so, so alive. — Maggie Stiefvater

Nobody can help me, those are my secrets, scarring my soul just as surely as that razor blade scarred my thighs all those years ago. — Cindy Vine

The pedicure is beside the point - the rub is all I care about. And not just my feet, my calves and thighs. There is nothing better, except maybe a scalp massage. — Amy Landecker

When I think about my Glamazon, would that character get down if someone said her thighs were heavy? No, she knows what other people think is none of her damn business. — RuPaul

You can't tell me what to do anymore, Travis! I don't belong to you!"
Her words ignited a deep anger inside me. I stomped to the bed, planted my hands on the mattress on each side of her thighs, and leaned into her face.
"Well, I belong to you!" I screamed. I put so much force behind my words, I could feel all the blood rush to my face. Abby met my glare, refusing to even flinch. I looked at her lips, panting. "I belong you," I whispered, my anger fading as desire took over. — Jamie McGuire

What do you call sneaking out before the sun comes up?"

"Punctual," she decided. "I had things to do."

"We had things to do."

Heat settled low in her belly. "Did we? I don't recall you making an appointment."

"Keep running that mouth, hustler," he rasped beside her ear, making her shiver. "I've been impatient to fuck you for days. If you keep taunting me, I'll have no choice but to assume you want it as rough and dirty as I can give it. And, baby?" He nipped her ear. "I saw the way your back arched and your thighs squeezed together when you heard my voice behind you. I know how bad you want it. — Tessa Bailey

Whenever I wore a bathing suit, I kept a sarong around my hips that went halfway down my thighs. The tops of my thighs are like baby skin. Where the sarong ended, I can see sun damage: I've got dark spots and places where there is no melanin. The spots are not pretty, so I encourage everyone to protect their skin from the sun. — Christie Brinkley

My thighs are normal as far as their appearance, and extraordinary in regards to the feats they have conquered. — Jenn Sadai

I wrote your name over and over - on scraps of paper, in books and on the back of my wrists. I carved it like sacred markings into trees and the tops of my thighs. Years went by and the scars have vanished, but the sting has not left me. Sometimes when I read a book, parts will lift from the pages in an anagram of your name. Like a code to remind me it's not over. Like dyslexia in reverse. — Lang Leav

In my imagination you're waiting lying on your side with your hands between your thighs. — Arctic Monkeys

Sweetheart, I'll lift my kilt and show you what I've got between my thighs and if you still think it's lit(tle) --- — Katie Reus

Instead of thanking God for my two strong legs that are able to run and jump and climb, I whined about my "thunder thighs" and "thick" ankles. Instead of rejoicing that I have two capable arms that can lift and carry and balance my body, I complained about the flab that hung beneath them. I have been totally and unbelievably ungrateful for everything. Like a completely spoiled brat, I took my healthy body for granted. I criticized it and despised it. With crystal clarity, I know that I do not deserve the good health that God has mysteriously blessed me with. Not only have I been unappreciative of my body and its amazing working parts, I tortured it by overexercising, and I put my entire health at serious risk by starving myself. What on earth was wrong with me? As I watch these kids with their less-than-perfect bodies, I feel so thoroughly ashamed of myself. I mean, how could I have been so stupid and shallow and self-centered? — Melody Carlson

... .he grabs my wrists and pins my arms up above my head, locking them in one hand. "Are you mine?" he asks gruffly, as his hand returns between my thighs and briefly enters me. I gasp. Undone. Delirious. "I'm yours." His expression is tense, ravenous, so hot as he scrapes his finger deep into my channel. "Do you want me inside you?" My need clogs my windpipe as pleasure shoots down my legs. "I want you everywhere. All over me. Inside me. — Katy Evans

Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? — Maya Angelou

My beauty doesn't lie between my thighs. — Tracy Ames

What's amazing to me now is that I actually recall fixating on the fact that my thighs a-l-m-o-s-t touched at the top ... If I could go back in time and slap my eighteen-year-old self, I would. I would tell her to snap out of it, because that's the best you thighs will ever be. You should take pictures of your thighs right now so you can remember how amazing they were! — Anita Renfroe

He reached for her, slipping his fingers into the front pocket of her pants and tugging her between his thighs where he rested against the bike. "It'll be fun. You've never ridden until you've ridden with me."
"I've ridden you before."
He coughed and choked on a laugh. "Well played," he said, his voice thick. He sucked on her bottom lip. Just a tiny tug. A hint of things to come. "You ready?"
"Where are you taking me?"
"I'm going to abscond with you to the wilds of central Texas and have my way with you in the mesquite brush. — Jessica Scott

I want to hold you like a kitten in my shirt, and still I want to spread your thighs and plow ye like a rotting bull. I dinna understand myself. — Diana Gabaldon

But weren't done, not by a long shot. his great hands lifted me under my ass and my thighs, urging me to get on the table and lie on my side. His arm hooked under my leg right under the kneecap, and now everyone had a spectacular view of my dripping for him. — Lisa Lawrence

Each in the most hidden sack kept
the lost jewels of memory,
intense love, secret nights and permanent kisses,
the fragment of public or private happiness.
A few, the wolves, collected thighs,
other men loved the dawn scratching
mountain ranges or ice floes, locomotives, numbers.
For me happiness was to share singing,
praising, cursing, crying with a thousand eyes.
I ask forgiveness for my bad ways:
my life had no use on earth. — Pablo Neruda

I wouldn't want to be 20 now. I know so much more, and I'm much more comfortable in my skin, saggy as it is When I hear young girls complaining about superficial things You're at the peak of your physical beauty right now! Just enjoy it and stop worrying about your thighs being too big If you're upset with how you look at 25, life's going to be tough — Susan Sarandon

But even as he surged up, Tom dug in, using his body's position to hold Prophet to the ground, his knees pressing Prophet's thighs together. "You're going to want me to open my legs," Prophet murmured against his cheek once Tom broke the kiss and was concentrating on biting Prophet's earlobe. "And you'll do it for me," Tom drawled, his breath warm against Prophet's cheek, his hips a slow, steady rock, forcing their clothed cocks to rub together. "Jesus, that's good." "Fucker," Prophet grunted, Tom's heavy weight grounding him. "You've been practicing." "Practicing fighting you or fucking you?" Tom held Prophet's wrists immobile with one hand and reached to pull his sweats down with the other. "You — S.E. Jakes

I hear talk of that slippery slope, and my heart catches for a beat. But there is the musky truth I'm standing in that I can't deny, and it tastes of so much holy. That old way, the narrow line, I see now that was a slippery, saccharine surface where my soul could gain no purchase. For the first time, my feet feel sure beneath me, and that sense is twining its way up from my ankles, racing toward my knees, my thighs, my secret places, my heart. It's in my blood now, and I can't deny it. I can't deny it.

I open my eyes, because I could see even through my clutched-closed lids that the darkness is light, that the blindness has given way to searing vision.

I can't deny it. — Beth Morey

I'll admit that you felt fucking sweet as silk against my fingers when I had my hand between those pretty thighs. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I have flabby thighs, but fortunately my stomach covers them. — Joan Rivers

My thighs were huge; they were like rock! Growing up, I was really athletic, and I had a very athletic body. — Gigi Hadid

You're giving me goose bumps with your breath on my thighs! Jesus Christ, Nate, are you trying to kill me?" I waggled my eyebrows up at her. "Remember in The Breakfast Club - wait, how old are you? — Mary Calmes

I'm going back in," I said as I turned toward the door. Clay sprang to his feet before I reached it and crowded behind me. I looked down at him then back at Rachel, who watched us with an enormous grin. "Looks like another guy who can't take his eyes off you. Living with you is going to be a riot." She laughed and picked up the towels. "Let's all go in. The neighbor's tree is going to shade the deck soon anyway." Having little choice, I opened the door for Clay. His fur brushed my bare thighs as he moved past me into the house. His head came to about my sternum. He really was huge...a huge problem. Sam had warned me Clay had taken my speech as an invitation to live together. At least, Clay had shown up in his fur. However, any relief I might have felt went unnoticed as I contemplated how he'd found me in a completely different state. If Sam told him, I'd have to kill Sam. Since I didn't have the stomach for outright murder, I'd break his coffee maker. I — Melissa Haag

I likewise felt several slender ligatures across my body, from my arm-pits to my thighs. I could only look upwards; the sun began to grow hot, and the light offended my eyes. I heard a confused noise about me; but in the posture I lay, could see nothing except the sky. — Jonathan Swift

I want to make you really happy."
My heart fluttered. "Really happy?"
He dropped his hands to my outer thighs, his long fingers slipping under the material. "Exceedingly, insanely happy."
I was breathless. "There you go again with the adverbs.
His hands inched up, causing heat to flood my body. "You love it when I whip out the adverbs."
"Maybe."
He trailed his lips in a hot line down my throat. "Let me make you exceedingly, insanely happy, Kat. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I'd lie in bed in my dormitory and grab at bits of my body, wanting to tear them off ... I was so large by then that, in the heat, my thighs chafed together and bled. I was very unhappy, and yet no one ever asked me how I felt. — Marcus Brigstocke

Ryder." I chuckled. "I'm not even in the mood for - omigod."

Without warning, my husband's lips fastened on my clit, and he suckled on it until spasms of pleasure fluttered to life. I pressed my head back into the mattress and thrust my pelvis into Ryder's face, causing him to groan against me. He hooked his arms around my thighs and kept my arse on the bed as he feasted on me.

"Ryder," I moaned. "Circles, baby. Move your tongue in - Holy Christ! — L.A. Casey

I can't stand this, Pigeon. I feel like I'm going crazy."
I threw out my hands and let them hit my thighs. "You can't stand what?"
"If you sleep with him, I don't wanna know about it. I'll go to prison for a long time if I find out he ... just don't tell me. — Jamie McGuire

My slender waist and thighs are exhausted and weak from a night of cloud dancing ... — Huang E

Leaning against my car after changing the oil,
I hold my black hands out and stare into them
as if they were the faces of my children looking
at the winter moon and thinking of the snow
that will erase everything before they wake.
In the garage, my wife comes behind me
and slides her hands beneath my soiled shirt.
Pressing her face between my shoulder blades,
she mumbles something, and soon we are laughing,
wrestling like children among piles of old rags,
towels that unravel endlessly, torn sheets,
work shirts from twenty years ago when I stood
in the door of a machine shop, grease blackened,
and Kansas lay before me blazing with new snow,
a future of flat land, white skies, and sunlight.
After making love, we lie on the abandoned
mattress and stare at our pale winter bodies
sprawling in the half-light. She touches her belly,
the scar of our last child, and the black prints
of my hand along her hips and thighs. — B.H. Fairchild

May I ask Master a question?"
"What is it you want to know, girl?"
"Does Master love his girl?"
He moved her into the railing, the intricate cast iron of the boundary around the balcony bit into her ass. Anyone walking by and looking up would see her naked. She knew that and he knew that.
"What does she think?" He parted her legs and stood between her open thighs. Her wrists still imprisoned in his hand hung over the barrier.
"Yes?"
"Every day for the last eight years I've worn her chain around my neck. A habit I couldn't break, a ritual like clockwork every morning. Her chain around my neck, my watch on my wrist. — April Vine

That left Francesca to slink into the chair opposite us. My feeling of superiority was short-lived, however, when she settled herself down and then crossed her legs.
I didn't need a mirror to know my whole face had just turned red. With a hemline up to her thighs that gesture didn't leave anything to the imagination. Bones curled his fingers around mine and squeezed. His hand was still warmed from our contact moments ago. That's how fast he had to grab me again to keep me sitting where I was instead of yanking off my jacket to make her a pair of panties. — Jeaniene Frost

I always sleep well, dearest, except for when your hot body smothers me completely!"
Darcy grinned. "Forgive me. Even sub- consciously I must be near you. I have no control over the matter. Tea and a scone?"
"Yes, please." She sat, tucking her feet under her. "No need to apologize, William. I simply elbow you hard and you roll away, temporarily at least. Come winter you can re- pay the treatment when I slip my frozen feet between your thighs. — Sharon Lathan

Holy shit, he was harder that a rod of steel, and as his leg ground out a torturous rhythm between my thighs, I realized I was hotter than spring in Seattle.
This was not a dream, this was real, and I had just fondled the boner of the Grim Reaper. — Tara West

Tall, way taller than her five foot five frame, his body bulged with muscles covered in tanned skin. He possessed layered down brown hair with gold highlights, vivid turquoise eyes and chiseled features, including a strong straight nose
surprising because with a taunting mouth like his she expected he'd gotten it broken more than once in his life
a square chin, and wickedly full lips that now quirked into a grin.
-"Enjoying the view?" he taunted.
-"Deciding what part to carve off your body first," she replied."Do you have a name by the way? Or should I just refer to you as 'that asshole'?"
-"You can call me Remy, but when I get your thighs around my neck, feel free to call me God. It totally pisses Lucifer's brother off, which means brownie points for me. — Eve Langlais

Dorian strokes my exposed back with the tips of his fingers, sending shockwaves up and down my spine. I gasp from the contact, resisting the urge to beg him for more. He brings his face down to my neck, letting his lips brush my earlobe. "Gabriella, I would love to bend you over this desk right now and pull your dress up past your thighs and over your ass," he murmurs, sex dripping from his soft lips.
"That sounds good to me," I breathe, turning my head a fraction. "What's stopping you?" Never in my life have I been this bold and eager with a man but Dorian has awakened the sleeping sex giant within me. If my days are numbered, I want to at least die happy.
"Oh, I would do it. But I know Aurora will come looking for me and I don't want to be disturbed when I ... ruin you." Ruin me? It sounds so threatening and violent.
I love it. — S.L. Jennings

You think you need me, little firecracker?" The gruff question travels all the way through me, and I have to press my thighs together to stop the tremor in me. "Baby, the way you need me can only barely cover half of the way I need you." The unexpected sadness in his voice yanks my gaze back to his. — Katy Evans

Here I am in the garden laughing an old woman with heavy breasts and a nicely mapped face how did this happen well that's who I wanted to be at last a woman in the old style sitting stout thighs apart under a big skirt grandchild sliding on off my lap a pleasant summer perspiration that's my old man across the yard he's talking to the meter reader he's telling him the world's sad story how electricity is oil or uranium and so forth I tell my grandson run over to your grandpa ask him to sit beside me for a minute I am suddenly exhausted by my desire to kiss his sweet explaining lips. — Grace Paley

They see the straight line of my jaw along the length of their thighs and they see how it fits, the geometry of bodies. They have wondered for so long why nothing ever fits, why the knobs of their spines press hard on chairbacks and why they can't lie parallel in bed, and then there I am. I know how to fill the gaps in a girl. — Kirsty Logan

Mikhail stretched out on the bed, his head in her lap. "You are going to turn my well-ordered world upside down, are you not?"
She tunneled her fingers in his hair, enjoying the feel of its silky thickness against the bare skin of her hips and thighs. "I certainly intend to do my best. — Christine Feehan

My blood goes hot, and I have to remind myself that we're in public and that I can't grab her thighs and wrap her legs around me. She pulls back with a soft gasp, leaving me blinking and a little stunned. Well, that hasn't happened in a long time - a girl taking charge and leaving me speechless. I'm usually the one making the moves. But — Roni Loren

Her breasts were good, her thighs were terrific. When she shook hands with me, I felt something click down back of my solar plexus. — Robert B. Parker

She lay on her back and walked her fingers down her ribs, skipped them over her abdomen, and landed on her pelvic bones. She tapped them with her Knuckles. [ ... ] I can hear my bones, she thought. Her fingers moved up from her pelvic bones to her waist. The elastic of her underpants barely touched the center of her abdomen. The bridge is almost finished, she thought. The elastic hung loosely around each thigh. More progress. She put her knees together and raised them in the air. No matter how tightly she pressed them together, her thighs did not touch. — Steven Levenkron

Class starts in five. You
riding in the Charger?"
"Nah. I'm going to see if I can get Abby on the back of my bike again. It's the closest I can get to
the inside of her thighs. — Jamie McGuire

I'm going to take my time, slowly peeling off your shirt, your bra, kiss your nipples until they are so hard that you're begging me to bite them. Then I'll take off your jeans, inch by torturous inch, enjoying the show of your thighs before I reach your panties. I bet they're ridiculously wet. Even right now, I bet they are soaked. I bet they'd taste good too. Then I'm going to fuck your wet pussy so good that you'll wonder how you survived this long without me. — Karina Halle

You said you wanted to remember something.' His palms slid up to the top of her thighs and squeezed. 'So lie back and let me do my thing.'
-Issac Rothe, Crave — J.R. Ward

I want to sleep in your bed."
Her thighs tingled. "You must really like my mattress."
He grinned. I never heard it called that, but yeah. — Stephanie Bond

Can't even sleep through the night without you and those sun-dried ginger ale complected limbs crocheted into my thighs ... — Brandi L. Bates

His cock bumped her, thick and wide. Spike opened her thighs around his hips, lifting her and holding her with perfect strength while he slid up and inside. Myka's eyes went wide. Hell, he couldn't be that... Oh, my God... it has to stop soon... Oh, my God. — Jennifer Ashley

When I woke up in the morning and look in the mirror I realise that one of the reasons I don't own a handgun is, I would have shot my thighs off years ago. — Oprah Winfrey

So don't tell me how love will rescue me, I was carnivorous about love, I ate love to the ankles, my thighs are gnawed with love still and yet I cannot have loved, since living was all I could do and for that, I was caged in bone spur endlessly — Dionne Brand

He's a steamroller in my life and I like to be laid out flat. I like his hands on my chest, pushing me down whenever my back turns to the span of a bridge. His hands on my thighs, forcing me flat, flat, flat. Yes. Yes, I like that. — Laura A. Lord

You may want to reconsider. Cheese sticks will take residency on your ass," I respond with a sarcastic smile, tilting my head to the side. "You would know," she snorts. "Actually, I wouldn't. I don't eat this shit since I see the tons of grease that it fries in every day. But be my guest, I'm sure you wouldn't mind adding to the cottage cheese factory on your thighs. — Ashley Wilcox

I don't have time for sweet tonight." He slides his thick cock between my thighs. "I'm going to fuck ye hard and fast and stuff ye full of my come before I have to leave. — A. Zavarelli

Did I really wear bathing suits, at the beach? I did, without thought, among men, without caring that my legs, my arms, my thighs and back were on display, could be seen. Shameful, immodest. — Margaret Atwood

I don't read all the junk. I joke if I did, I wouldn't get out of bed in the morning. But, Sometimes the comments over the top - really ugly. Many of them are critical of my looks, like the one that criticized my "thunder thighs." I get that a lot. Some of the tweets are too vulgar to repeat. — Gretchen Carlson

I wore his blood for clothing, on my legs and thighs and hands: a dry, stiff, brown garment with no warmth in it. — Ursula K. Le Guin

Run! my brain screamed, but my feet didn't move. Seriously. No movement at all, just like in one of those dreams where a giant dinosaur suddenly appears in the grocery store parking lot and you can't seem to start running away or even throw a package of chicken thighs to create a diversion, no matter how hard you try. — Joanna Wylde

The Blue Fly"

Five summer days, five summer nights,
The ignorant, loutish, giddy blue-fly
Hung without motion on the cling peach
Humming occasionally 'O my love, my fair one!'
As in the canticles.

Magnified one thousand times, the insect
Looks farcically human; laugh if you will!
Bald head, stage fairy wings, blear eyes,
A caved-in chest, hairy black mandibles,
Long spindly thighs.

The crime was detected on the sixth day.
What then could be said or done? By anyone?
It would have been vindictive, mean, and what-not,
To swat that fly for being a blue-fly,
For debauch of a peach.

Is it fair either, to bring a microscope
To bear on the case, even in search of truth?
Nature, doubtless, has some compelling cause
To glut the carriers of her epidemics -
Nor did the peach complain. — Robert Graves

You need to understand something, Krissy," he began, taking careful steps towards me. "Whenever I drop the words 'gonna shower', it means, we're gonna shower. I expect to see you sliding the doors open and stepping in under that shower with me, no more than a minute later. Aroused, eager, and impatient to be fucked under the spraying shower and against the tiles."

When he reached me, he took the cup of coffee still suspended mid-air from my hand and set it down on the table. Then he bent and slid one arm beneath my thighs, the other around my waist, and lifted my inert body up off the chair. "If I don't want you to join me, I won't tell you I'm gonna shower. 'Cause, then, what would be the fucking point? — S. Ann Cole

He cocks an eyebrow. "Penny for your thoughts, Miss Hen?" He appears focused on his task, but there's a sly glint in his eye. I flush. Oh, I was just imagining your hands traveling up my thighs and your teeth nibbling my breast. — F.L. Fowler

I have been using the Lipo Target Massager (not every day) and the Detox Oil. Recently my husband noticed that the cellulite on my thighs had decreased. For a man to notice anything there has to be quite a big difference - so it works really well. — Charmaine

I only photograph myself at poignant moments in my life as a check of where I am and how large my thighs are. — Sam Taylor-Johnson

I fought back the memory of our wedding night. He was a virgin; his hands trembled when he touched me. I had been afraid too
with better reason. And then in the dawn he had held me, naked back against his chest, his thighs warm and strong behind my own, murmuring into the clouds of my hair, Dinna be afraid. There's two of us now. — Diana Gabaldon

The willow is full plumage and is no help, with its insinuating whispers.
Rendevous, it says. Terraces;
the sibilants run up my spine, a shiver as if in fever. The summer dress rustles against the flesh of my thighs, the grass grows underfoot, at the edges of my eyes there are movements, in the branches; feathers, flittings, grace notes, tree into bird, metamorphosis run wild. Goddesses are possible now and the air suffuses with desire ...
Winter is not so dangerous. I need hardness, cold, rigidity; not this heaviness, as if I'm a melon on a stem, this liquid ripeness. — Margaret Atwood

Twisting the nipple so I inhaled audibly, and he hesitated for a moment but kept going. His dick smearing at my bare thighs. I would be shunted along whatever would happen, I understood. However he piloted the night. And there wasn't fear, just a feeling adjacent to excitement, a viewing from the wings. What would happen to Evie? — Emma Cline

Yes, you may ask my name but only if you can tell me: are your thighs as fine as a fresh, crisp morning in early July? — Robert Clark

I would definitely make eggs for the rest of my life if I could. — John Hodgman

Left to my own devices, would I trade this for firm thighs, fewer wrinkles, a better memory? On some days. That's why it's such a blessing I'm not left to my own devices. Because the truth is I have amazing friends and a deep faith in God, to whom I can turn. I have a cool kid, a sweet boyfriend, darling pets. I've learned to pay attention to life, and to listen. I'd give up all this for a flatter belly? Are you crazy? — Anne Lamott

She pushed him onto the couch and straddled him ...
Min swallowed "the thing is, im going to spread. Hips, thighs-"
"Not till nine-thirty," Cal said trying not to picture her.
"-waist," Min said then stopped. "What? nine-thirty? Not till my forties, probably, i think i can fight it off that long, but then-"
"What?" Cal said.
"Im going to get fat," Min said, and he blinked. "Er. Im going to get fatter." she frowned at him. "what did you think i meant?"
"for future reference," he said starting to laugh. "if you're sitting half naked on my lap and you tell me you're going to spread-"
"No! I would never say that!" she said. — Jennifer Crusie

His legs were still crossed, and his bulge sat atop his crossed thighs, so large it seemed to be taunting her, [...].
"My eyes are up here, you know," Elbryn said in amusement. — Ash Gray

It's unnerving how you fit in the basin of my thighs. — Audrey Rey

We can not fight now. We'll discuss that shit when you're feelin' better and after I instigate the official reunion."
My thighs started tingling.
"The official reunion?" I asked.
"Like you don't know I'm gonna fuck you breathless in a way you're gonna remember every second of it for the rest of your life. — Kristen Ashley

Who cares if there are lumps on my thighs? I'm guilty of having human legs made up of fat, muscle, and skin, and sometimes when you sit, they get bumpy! — Kristen Bell

You've taken me completely, baby. You've swallowed me up and drowned me in your beauty and spirit. You know I can't function without you. You've made my life as beautiful as you are. You've made me want to live a worthy existence - a life with you. All I need is you - to look at you; to listen to you; to feel you.' He drops my hands and smoothes his palms over my thighs. 'To love you. — Jodi Ellen Malpas

How could I tell him that I now wanted what he had once wanted
to travel on trains and fall in love with girls with dark eyes and extravagant lips? It didn't matter to me if at the end of it I had nothing to show but sore thighs. It wasn't my fault that the life of the wanderer, the wayfarer, had fallen out of favor with the world. So what if it was no longer acceptable to drift with the wind, asking for bread and a roof, sleeping on bales of hay and enjoying dalliances with barefooted farmgirls, then running away before the harvest? This was the life I wanted, blowing around like a leaf with appetites. — Steve Toltz

I exist only in the soles of my feet and in the tired muscles of my thighs. We have been walking for hours it seems. But where? I cannot remember. — Virginia Woolf

Seamus shuddered in horror, before he pulled himself together. Determined, he reached between my thighs and shoved hard. Pain, like the fire of a thousand suns, burned through my belly. I tried to squirm away from his hands, using mine to push him away. — A.B. Shepherd

I'm going to imprison you in pleasure. Until you're crying. Until you're begging. Until your well kept secrets are on fire and dripping down your thighs. I'm going to crush your sexy resistance with my lips and tongue. And I'm going to be right at your scorching mouth, eating up the sounds of your mind blowing orgasm until you say it-- no, until you scream it. Lucian. Lucian Bane. That's what I want you to scream while I milk the ecstasy from your pretty little soul. — Lucian Bane

You are my siren," he said, running his hands along her thighs and down her calves, feeling the shape of her even as the silk of her gown kept them both from what they wanted. "My temptress ... my sorceress ... I cannot resist you, no matter how I try. You threaten to send me over the edge. — Sarah MacLean

I love your loins, that's all,' Rachel says quietly. 'And now I love the word itself, and how words change, I love that too. And all the parts of you, I love them. That's all. And I'm not sad,' she whispers, gasping a little at the shock of her own tears, hot and extravagant, tears that catch the light in her lashes before they drop and roll across Zach's thighs, sparkling capsules, kaleidoscopic, the flow dynamic. — Emma Richler

My father slapped my thighs with a variety of meats until I began to cry and sulked in the corner. I later became a musician — Thom Yorke

When he's sliding down my body and planting greedy kisses on my inner thighs. "Better than ice cream," he rasps against my sensitive flesh, his tongue coming out to tickle my clit. "So much sweeter, baby." Then he captures the little bud between his lips and sucks hard enough to make me cry out. "Oh my God," I choke. My fingers tangle in his hair, keeping him trapped between my thighs. "Keep doing that." His laughter vibrates through my body. He continues to suckle me while one finger teases my folds, circling my opening until finally, slowly, slipping inside. I gasp in delight and rock against him. He's rocking, too, I realize. He's all but fucking the mattress as he licks and sucks and groans. — Sarina Bowen

She is all I could ever ask for, she is perfect, and right now, with those big, green eyes and pillowy lips and alabaster thighs, the idea of doing this for the rest of our lives doesn't seem all that daunting. She's the last reprieve. The stay of execution. She gives me hope. But times are tough for dreamers. And even if my dream is a simple one - all I want is for Her to be in love with me forever - I know it's still a long shot. Life ruins everything. — Pete Wentz

His head is busy moving between my parted thighs. He makes low purr-like sounds between my legs and is so surprisingly ravenous I can feel his teeth. His nails bit into my thighs as he devours me like he's the one deriving pleasure from the act, and I'm so turned on by the way he laps me up, that I come. — Katy Evans

This figure, which I had so vaguely, idly, noticed before was now utterly changed in my eyes. The whole world was its background. And between me and it there hovered, perhaps for the last time, the vision of a slim long-legged girl with gleaming thighs. I ran. — Iris Murdoch

Here's to a tasty lunch, she says, winking at me.
It's the strangest thing, but I actually feel my body respond to her. Beneath their lace prison, my nipples harden and send a jolt of arousal across my midriff and down to my thighs. I take a long sip of champagne and eye Rachel hungrily. I can't be sure if it's the alcohol or the company but I already feel giddy. — Felicity Brandon

No. No!" he says.
"I ... " He looks wildly around the room. For inspiration? For divine intervention? I don't know.
"You can't go. Ana, I love you!"
"I love you, too, Christian, it's just - "
"No ... no!" he says in desperation and puts both hands on his head. "Christian ... "
"No," he breathes, his eyes wide with panic, and suddenly he drops to his knees in front of me, head bowed, long-fingered hands spread out on his thighs. He takes a deep breath and doesn't move. What?
"Christian, what are you doing?"
He continues to stare down, not looking at me.
"Christian! What are you doing?"
My voice is high-pitched. He doesn't move.
"Christian, look at me!" I command in panic. His head sweeps up without hesitation, and he regards me passively with his cool gray gaze - he's almost serene ... expectant.
Holy Fuck ... Christian. The submissive. — E.L. James

I put my hand on him. Touching him has always been important to me, it was something I lived for. I never could explain why. Little, nothing touches, my fingers against his shoulder, the outsides of our thighs touching as we squeeled together on the bus. I couldnt explain it, but I needed it. Sometimes I imagined stiching all of our little touches together. How many hundreds of thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love? — Jonathan Safran Foer

I had my fingers buried inside of her, my head rested between her thighs for over an hour and I could still taste her on my tongue. Phina could pretend all she wanted to, but I wasn't about to put up with that shit. I am man enough to admit that it stung a little when it was all over and she ushered me out of her house like I was a vacuum salesman and she had no use for what I was selling. — Tara Sivec

CLEOPATRA TO THE ASP

The bright mirror I braved: the devil in it
Loved me like my soul, my soul:
Now that I seek myself in a serpent
My smile is fatal.

Nile moves in me; my thighs splay
Into the squalled Mediterranean;
My brain hides in that Abyssinia
Lost armies foundered towards.

Desert and river unwrinkle again.
Seeming to bring them the waters that make drunk
Caesar, Pompey, Antony I drank.
Now let the snake reign.

A half-deity out of Capricorn,
This rigid Augustus mounts
With his sword virginal indeed; and has shorn
Summarily the moon-horned river

From my bed. May the moon
Ruin him with virginity! Drink me, now, whole
With coiled Egypt's past; then from my delta
Swim like a fish toward Rome. — Ted Hughes

I don't tan on my upper thighs, so when I first wore those [ cut-off jean short shorts] I look like I was walking on two cans of milk. — Blake Jenner

Home is in my hair, my lips, my arms, my thighs, my feet and my hands. I am my own home. And when I wake up crying in the morning, thinking of how lonely I am, I pinch my skin, tug at my hair, remind myself that I am alive. Remind myself to step outside and greet the morning. Remind myself that it's all about forward motion. It's all about change. It's all about that elusive state.
Freedom. — Diriye Osman

I was so tired that I was nothing but my body: the steady dull throb in my thighs, the tremor all along my arms, the thick grime of dust muffling my skin. — Naomi Novik

Thighs made of hymns, I read 'em like I'm reading runes. Now tell me where my future lies ... your neck, can I Savion on it? — Brandi L. Bates