...seeing the way his trousers clung to those most English parts.
He bombarded me with words, of all things, apparently clueless to the fact that the predawn hours rendered me incapable of coherent thought.
First Grave on the Right
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He bombarded me with words, of all things, apparently clueless to the fact that the predawn hours rendered me incapable of coherent thought.
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What your mind sees when you close your eyes marks the entrance to an endless universe: your imagination.
His was a great sin who first invented consciousness. Let us lose it for a few hours.
[Lizzie Bennington to a reporter who has asked for her opinion about Jack Archer's celebrated thighs.] __hen you come back from a set down and bring the match to a final set tiebreak and are a point away from winning the match, only to have what looks like an extremely fit player call a time out because of a cramp and then watch that player sit back and casually converse and laugh while you do your best to keep your mental focus and your body moving so you don__ grow cold and cramp yourself, I hardly think you__ concern yourself with his burgeoning manhood, let alone his thighs!
A million possible endearments ran through his head. But he said, __elp.
You dance?___ think that might be overly optimistic,_ he said. __ do something. I__l try not to hurt you.