Orgasmic Quotes

“Where ignorance is bliss, awareness is joy, and self-awareness is orgasmic.”
― Nityananda Das, Divine Union

“Sensuality never runs out of new, delicious, and orgasmic flavours. In fact, it’s got more flavours than can ever be tasted in a million lifetimes. It’s flavours are new every morning.”
― Lebo Grand

“The hot crown of his cock notched against my sex, and we both stopped, our gazes clashing.
"Em."
I knew what he meant. This felt different. This felt more like than sex. He didn't look away as he slowly pushed into me, all that hot girth making itself at home.
I moaned and spread my legs wider, working with him. He was big. And there. And it felt so good I could barely breathe through it all.
Lucian dipped his head, trembling with effort to go slow. "God. God. You feel..." He broke off with a tortured groan and a hard thrust, filling me completely.
I closed my eyes, my hands smoothing over his damp back. "So good, Lucian. So good."
That was all he needed. Moving like liquid, he rocked into me, kissing my mouth, whispering how much he wanted me. I grew incandescent with it, heat licking through me in waves.
Lucian fucked like he did most everything, with perfect finesse and fierce determination. With swagger. Soon we were both panting, moving faster, reaching for that peak yet wanting to prolong it.
"I don't want it to end," he said against my mouth. But then he canted his hips, hitting that spot that lit me up and made me scream.
There was no more finesse, no more drawing it out. Just basic rutting, fucking each other like we might die and not get another chance. And when he came, I stared up at him, at those muscles straining, his wintergreen eyes gleaming in lust and surprise, as though he couldn't quite believe how good it was.
Neither could I. Because it had never been like this.”
― Kristen Callihan, Make It Sweet

“A buddha lives in the orgasmic state for twenty-four hours, day in and day out. Between the day Gautama Buddha became enlightened and the day he died there is a distance of forty-two years. For these forty-two years he was utterly in an orgasmic state. Just think! Those few moments you have are nothing compared to a Buddha’s.”
― Osho, The secret of secrets

“Then he drops his head back down, pulls my panties all the way to my ankles, and finally makes contact.
I fall back against the bed, gasping at the soft, hot, wet feel of Callum's mouth on the most sensitive spot of my body. This is way, way better than any dream.
The slow circles he makes with his tongue send heat through every inch of me. Callum is the master of slow burn, setting me on fire from the inside out with just his tongue. It doesn't seem to matter where he chooses to taste me. Every single time his mouth makes contact, I'm engulfed in flames.
I'm gasping, whimpering, moaning his name. He hums his approval. He speeds up, then slows down. Then repeats it again and again. Everything he does, it's all divine. With my body on fire, my brain in a pleasure-mush state, I can't form words; only sounds.
Pressure builds behind the heat, like I'm boiling over. I twist both hands into the pillow, supporting my head. It's either that or rip the hair from his scalp, because I absolutely cannot handle this level of ecstasy.
Callum increases the pressure and then throws in a wild card: suction. Holy hot damn. My whimpers turn into screams. The pressure between my legs builds and builds until every limb is shaking.
Just then he eases up, and I finally catch my breath. But then he's back at it, humming against me. I could swear I hear him chuckling.
Before I can be sure, he's amping up the pressure, speeding up until I'm thrashing. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to hold on. Seconds, maybe. But minutes? No way on God's green Earth.
More pressure, more suction, then bam. Explosion.
The simmering slow burn is nowhere to be found. This is a volcanic eruption of ecstasy. It's every muscle ablaze, tensing as climax claims me. It's me shouting, gasping, panting, tugging at the bedsheets, tugging at Callum. It's babbling, going cross-eyed, ending in a sweat-soaked pile in the middle of the bed and never, ever feeling more satisfied than in this moment.”
― Sarah Smith, Simmer Down

“Her hands found the button of his jeans, and then glided his zipper down. She wasted no time in seizing his cock with her hand, stroking him up and down as he pulled down his pants, then his boxers. He stopped her only so he could sheathe himself. And when he looked back up, she'd removed her robe, which fell around her in waves like drizzled icing.
As he did, she began to guide his cock to her entrance, stroking her clit with the tip of him. He was already so fucking hard, and he hadn't even sunk into her yet.
"Ready?" she breathed into his ear.
He nodded, and his hands found her hips. His fingertips dug into her as he eased himself inside her, so slowly he could barely breathe, and they both moaned as she cradled him with her pussy. She braced her hands against the table as he slid further, burying himself deep inside her.
Fuck. How did Nina feel so good? They both paused, him filling her. She stretched and tightened against him. He hadn't even begun to fuck her the way he planned to, but she already felt better than anything he could've imagined.
He rocked into her, hitting her core deeper, and her head rolled back as a moan escaped. She fit around him in such a silky way that he already knew he'd want every waking moment to be inside her. She moved back and forth on his dick, his hands steadying her hips. He wanted to make sure that every time he pumped into her, she felt all of him. He was going to delve into her so deeply that she'd have no other choice but to come all over him. He needed to feel her heat pulsing against him.
Her breathing quickened, and she said, "I need you."
All he wanted was to hear this woman moan so loudly that he'd be able to hear it whenever he closed his eyes.
So when he slid his cock back inside her, he made sure to push until he was all the way in. She arched her back in response, and he slowly pulled out, then pumped back in.
Their moans, their thighs meeting and the slap of his balls against her ass were the only sounds in the room. He reached toward her heavy breasts and pinched one nipple tightly as he continued to fill her.
"I'm..." She couldn't get the words out, but he knew what she was trying to say. She was going to come. He moved the hand that pinched her nipple down to her clit and gently rubbed.
"I'm almost there," she said.
He grunted in approval and pushed into her slower, bringing his length almost fully out, then plunging back in. She tightened around him. As her groans reached a crescendo, he knew he was going to erupt as well. He thrust hard and deep until his aching cock came.”
― Erin La Rosa, For Butter or Worse

“He cupped her buttocks in his hands, lifted her up, and guided her down over his shaft with a long sigh. When he was deeply inside her, their eyes locked.
Susannah's breasts slid against his chest, both of their bodies sweat-sheened, as she rose up again, knowing instinctively what to do. He smiled faintly, guided her down again. Which is when she saw his eyes go black again with desire and she exulted. She loved this power to give and take, this humbling exchange of strength and vulnerability.
"There's a place inside you, Susannah...," he said hoarsely. "Guide me. You'll know it when you feel it. I'll hold on to you."
So she lifted up again... and slid down again... and oh, he was right. There was a place.
She moved up over him again, with a sultry smile, enjoying this new knowledge, feeling that mysterious need escalating... she held it at bay for as long as she could. Which, as it turned out, wasn't very long at all. For her body took over, found the cadence it craved, and she began to ride him in an instinctive rhythm that grew ever swifter, and he held her, his hips thrusting up to meet hers.
The world became the harsh roar of their breathing, incoherent sounds of pleasure, softly groaned words of urging. Susannah could feel her release pushing, pushing at the seams of her, roaring through her veins like a river of stars, until it flooded its banks and burst from her in an exultant cry. The unthinkable pleasure of it rocked her, shook her like a rag; she trembled and trembled from it.
Kit held on to her, his own hoarse cry following, and she could feel his seed filling her as she breathed her exhaustion against his neck. Felt his chest heaving against hers as they clung together.”
― Julie Anne Long, Beauty and the Spy

“I pushed forward suddenly, the head of his cock teasing my entrance open in bliss. But a sudden jerk from Ryker left me painfully empty once more, and I whined in frustration.
"Just say it," he teased. "Do you like it a little rough? All you have to do is say yes."
Fine. Ass.
"Yes," I hissed. "Yes, I do."
Instant pressure hit me as he slid his length into me in one go. I was so wet, there was no friction stopping him as he filled me completely. Tight, hot, hard. I took in a sharp breath and he gave me a satisfied hum.
"There now, that wasn't so hard," he mused.
Smack.
Ryker shoved into me just a little harder at the same time he smacked me right on the mark, and I screamed. I was so hot, and wet, and full of him that I could hardly keep myself from unraveling. Thankfully, his hands stayed firmly in place, helping to hold me still as he slid out again, only to thrust inside once more.
"Fuck, Danica," Ryker rumbled. "Your pretty little ass is turning the hottest shade of pink."
I was breathless as Ryker thrust again and again, pushing me higher and higher. Sometimes he would smack the mark again, and I was sure I would be feeling it in the morning but I couldn't bring myself to care. All I could care about was Ryker and what he did to me. I felt wholly and truly right with him, and my head was in a fog as the orgasm hit me hard.
"Ryker!" I shouted as he thrust at just the right moment and all the tight muscles in my body came loose. Floating, floating and falling and clenching and dropping into a boneless heap. I was still reeling from the high he had started in me when I felt his hot release as well. Ryker came hard, gripping my hip as he shoved in as deep as he could. The hot, burning stretch of him shoving so hard coupled with the intensity of my own postorgasm shaking pulled another cry from me.
When we were both spent and he was still over me, staring down in satisfied confidence, he leaned in with a light kiss. "Good girl, you take me so fucking well."
My ass stung, I was filled to the brim, and I liked it.
Releasing my hip, he slid out of me and I groaned at the fleeting feeling of fullness. When wetness trickled out of me, more than just my own arousal, I pressed my thighs together.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Dragons

“I need you to say it." Ryker's hot breath was on my neck, his hand on my hip, and he was ready to sink into me the second he got his answer. All I had to do was admit it. Or I could try to take matters into my own hands just to fuck with him.
I pushed forward suddenly, the head of his cock teasing my entrance open in bliss. But a sudden jerk from Ryker left me painfully empty once more, and I whined in frustration.
"Just say it," he teased. "Do you like it a little rough? All you have to do is say yes."
Fine. Ass.
"Yes," I hissed. "Yes, I do."
Instant pressure hit me as he slid his length into me in one go. I was so wet, there was no friction stopping him as he filled me completely. Tight, hot, hard. I took in a sharp breath and he gave me a satisfied hum.
"There now, that wasn't so hard," he mused.
Smack.
Ryker shoved into me just a little harder at the same time he smacked me right on the mark, and I screamed. I was so hot, and wet, and full of him that I could hardly keep myself from unraveling. Thankfully, his hands stayed firmly in place, helping to hold me still as he slid out again, only to thrust inside once more.
"Fuck, Danica," Ryker rumbled. "Your pretty little ass is turning the hottest shade of pink."
I was breathless as Ryker thrust again and again, pushing me higher and higher. Sometimes he would smack the mark again, and I was sure I would be feeling it in the morning but I couldn't bring myself to care. All I could care about was Ryker and what he did to me. I felt wholly and truly right with him, and my head was in a fog as the orgasm hit me hard.
"Ryker!" I shouted as he thrust at just the right moment and all the tight muscles in my body came loose. Floating, floating and falling and clenching and dropping into a boneless heap. I was still reeling from the high he had started in me when I felt his hot release as well. Ryker came hard, gripping my hip as he shoved in as deep as he could. The hot, burning stretch of him shoving so hard coupled with the intensity of my own postorgasm shaking pulled another cry from me.
When we were both spent and he was still over me, staring down in satisfied confidence, he leaned in with a light kiss. "Good girl, you take me so fucking well."
My ass stung, I was filled to the brim, and I liked it.
Releasing my hip, he slid out of me and I groaned at the fleeting feeling of fullness. When wetness trickled out of me, more than just my own arousal, I pressed my thighs together.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Dragons

“He sweeps his fingers over her folds, teasing her entrance.
"So nice and wet for me," he hums. "I'm going to make you feel so fucking good, sweetheart. Would you like that? Want me to fill you up?"
Eden shivers, electricity arcing from nerve to nerve. "Y-yes. Yes, Shang, I do."
He rubs the head of his cock against her clit, torturously teasing. "I don't know. What do good girls say if they want my cock?"
"Please," Eden shouts. "Please, I want---"
"Use your words. Come on, sweetheart. I know you can do it."
"I want your cock in me," she whines. "Fuck me like you own me---"
A loud moan rips itself from her throat as Shang presses into her. Splits her open.
Stretched her to the fullest.
It feels so good, it's almost blinding. All she can focus on is the way he thrusts in and out of her, makes her take his full length just to pull back and do it all over again. The sound of wet skin on skin drives her up the wall, but nothing makes her lose it quite like the way Shang grunts with each snap of his hips.
Feral. An animal. A man on a mission.
"'Like you own me,'" he growls. "You really know how to drive me fucking crazy, Eden."
"Shang---"
"What is it, sweetheart? Don't tell me I'm too much for you."
"No, never. I want---"
"What? You want what? You close already?"
Eden both loves and hates the pride in his voice. "Cocky bastard," she murmurs, too dizzy to see straight.
He grins. "Yep, that's me. This cocky bastard owns you and your tight little pussy. Look how well you take me, sweetheart. Like you were made for me."
"Fuck---" It's a whine. It's a whimper. It's desperate and choked off and needy.
He grips her waist and fucks her hard against the shower wall. "You sound so fucking hot, Eden. Come on. Take it. Fucking take it."
Her back arches as she climaxes, drags her nails across his back, waves of pleasure washing over her so hard and fast, she thinks she might collapse.
Shang doesn't let her, though. He holds her steady through her orgasm, still pumping his cock into her in pursuit of his own pleasure.”
― Katrina Kwan, Knives, Seasoning, & A Dash of Love

“The kill can be likened to male orgasm. Sex is traditionally thought to be over when the man has an orgasm, and the hunt is never so decisively over as it is after a successful kill. As a teacher, I impatiently listened to a young man matter-of-factly defend the importance of hunting because he found the experience “orgasmic.” From his point of view, all that mattered was how exciting and wonderful the experience was for him.”
― Lisa Kemmerer, Speaking Up for Animals: An Anthology of Women's Voices

“Over the past few years, I'd been so busy with Dark Castle that I'd never truly gotten into cooking or baking shows. I reconsidered them now. Watching Lucian move about the kitchen, all firm confidence and loose-limbed grace, was pure porn for me. Heaven help me, but the way his ropy forearms moved as he briskly whipped up egg whites or heavy cream----because the man never used a blender for these things----would get me so hot and bothered I'd have to press my thighs together under the cover of the battered farm table.
And when he kneaded dough? Sweet baby Jesus. He did this little grunt every time he thrust the heels of his hands over the springy mass. A deep rumbling grunt as his whole taut body rocked toward the countertop. And then there were was the pullback, when he'd breathe in, those wide shoulders of his rolling in a steady rhythm.
Grunt. Thrust. Breathe. Pull.
It was a wonder I didn't orgasm on the spot watching him.”
― Kristen Callihan, Make It Sweet

“It wasn't like Naina didn't know what an orgasm felt like. Riz, her vibrator, had some goodly miles on him. But when Vansh said he was going to make her scream, she was never again taking that lightly.
Her throat felt raw as she sagged against him like he'd wring every last drop of pleasure from her, wrung every last scream and whimper from her.
Had she begged?
Yes, she'd begged.
He'd taken her by surprise. Yet, God, he hadn't.
He was panting between her legs like someone who'd sprinted up a hill. One of her knees was hooked over his shoulder. There was a thunderstorm inside her. Her entire wet body was throbbing and spasming like she'd turned into her vagina, all of her that one beautifully, blessedly pleasured organ.”
― Sonali Dev, The Emma Project

“But the moment Frederick buried his face between my legs it was clear there was nothing in the world he would rather be doing than this. He tasted and licked, breathing me in as he took his sweet, deliberate time. My fingertips found purchase on his shoulders, and I clung to them for dear life as he teased me, the wool of the sweater he still wore deliciously smooth against my bare legs.
My head fell back against the pillow again and I writhed on the mattress, bucking up towards his mouth in search of greater friction, needing more. But he wouldn't be rushed. His hands gripped my hips harder as my body sought to move against him, keeping me pinned helplessly to the mattress in the exact spot he wanted me. I whined in delicious agony as he traced the shape of my clit with the achingly soft flat of his tongue, dancing around the direct contact my body was screaming for. I could feel how wet I was growing, could hear the sharp keening sounds I was making as if from a distance. But he would not be rushed by my desperation as he kissed, and lapped, and tasted.
"Frederick." I tangled my fingers in his soft hair and tugged, moaning. I was going to pieces. I was out of my head with need. "Please."
At my naked plea something must have broken inside him. He groaned, long and loud, the reverberations from it sending sparks of sensation rocketing down my spine---
And then, at last, his tongue was right there, licking me senseless as his lips closed around my clit. He sucked gently, then with greater pressure, and the room, the bed beneath us, fell away. The world collapsed down to a pinprick, nothing existing anymore outside of Frederick and the exquisite, cresting pleasure.
"Oh, god," I moaned, bucking against his mouth. I was outside of myself, outside of reason. "Please---"
My orgasm came upon me like a tidal wave--- devastating, and all-consuming, my toes curling with the spine-melting pleasure of it. Distantly, I could feel Frederick shifting on the bed, kissing his way up my body, whispering praise to my bare legs, my stomach, my breasts.”
― Jenna Levine, My Roommate Is a Vampire

“His pace is slow, the drag of his cock against the ribbed walls of her pussy excruciatingly delightful. He continues to mark her delicate skin, works up a sweat to see her so completely undone. Open-mouthed kisses mix the sounds of their languid groans, their animalistic grunts, their passionate pleas for more please fuck more.
Suddenly emboldened, Eden hooks a leg over his hip and uses the momentum to roll them over. She looks like a fucking goddess riding him, hair a beautiful mess as her perfect tits bounce with her movements. She rolls her hips, coming down on his shaft in a way that nearly leaves him blind with ecstasy.
"You're so fucking beautiful, Eden."
"God, you feel so good."
"You like fucking yourself on my cock?"
"Yes, Shang. You make me so--- ngh--- fucking wet."
"I'm going to make you scream my name. Let's see if we can piss off the neighbors, hm?"
Eden leans forward, the new angle nearly sending him straight over the edge. She presses her forehead to his, their breaths ricocheting off each other's cheeks.
"Eden---"
"I want you to come," she mewls. "I want you to come. I want to make you feel good."
"I'm really close."
"Me, too. Oh, God, I'm---"
He grabs her by the waist and rapidly fucks up into her, snapping his hips and burying himself deep inside. The delicious friction sends them both hurtling, the tight coil in the pit of his stomach exploding like a million fireworks all at once. It's the sound she makes that he truly delights in, a half-sob, half-gasp as her climax rushes through her.
They ride the high together, eventually falling limp in each other's arms.”
― Katrina Kwan, Knives, Seasoning, & A Dash of Love

“We're going to have to be quiet," he whispers, reaching around to slide a hand down the front of Eden's cotton panties. Eden muffles a groan as Shang parts her folds with his fingers. "Fuck, you're already so wet for me."
"Shang---"
"I've got you, sweetheart."
He does little more than brush his fingers up against her clit, but it's enough to make her body tremble beneath him. He draws slow circles against her, amused by how she's struggling to keep her volume under control. The knowledge that he's able to reduce her to a babbling mess with just his fingers makes him painfully hard. He grinds his cock against her ass, the friction he finds almost maddening. It's close, but never enough. Eden writhes and whimpers and it's enough to make him go insane.
"Beautiful," he murmurs into her ear. "Love how you move against me."
A moan rips from her throat as climax hits her, wave after wave of pleasure causing her muscles to spasm. Shang has to place a gentle hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. It's for him and him alone. His teasing hand comes away wet with her arousal. He's never been quite so proud to see such a mess.”
― Katrina Kwan, Knives, Seasoning, & A Dash of Love

“Sit down," Thad whispered.
When she did, he pulled her to the edge of the mattress and lifted both her legs, placing her thighs on his shoulders. Then he dipped his head and read her open with his tongue.
She gasped, and sound sent a jolt of sensation straight to his dick.
Fuck!
He knew she would taste good, but this was so much better than good.
He stroked her with his tongue, dragging slow, firm licks from her clit on down, and then back up again. Ashanti lifted her hips, grinding against his mouth as he continued to lap at her.
Her cries filled the room, hesitant as they were. Thad wanted her to tell her to let go, to just give in and not hold back. But he didn't want to stop what he was doing long enough to speak.
He caught her by the waist and held her down while he wedged his tongue inside her, driving in and out. Her legs moved restlessly against his shoulders, as if she didn't know what to do with herself. He tried to make out what she was saying between her breathy pants and realized it was his name. She was calling his name over and over again.
Thad had never heard anything sexier in his entire life. It drove him to keep going until he felt her legs shake and tense.
She came against his tongue. But instead of stopping, he ramped up the intensity, closing his mouth over her clit and sucking until she came again and again and again.
Her body was limp by the time he lifted her legs and set them back on the bed. He stood. As he stared down at Ashanti completely spent on his mattress, Thad realized his ego would never need stroking again.
"Are you okay?" he asked her.
"I'm a puddle," she said. "Don't ask me to move, because I can't."
Nope. No ego stroking necessary for the newly crowned king of cunnilingus.”
― Farrah Rochon, Pardon My Frenchie