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Suzanne DeWitt Hall

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“Sexual climax has many similarities to the omega/alpha concept. At orgasm there is an intensity of focus so extreme that all other awareness disappears. In that moment we cease to be anything other than the experience itself. Our beings are consumed so that all our senses fall away and we have little or no control over what is happening.”

“It's like fårikål." Maya's tone is matter-of-fact recalling the traditional pungent dish of boiled cabbage and mutton with bone, seasoned with whole black peppercorns. "There's nothing better when you only get it once in a while. Seasonally. But if it were on your plate every day, you'd eventually start to lose your appetite for mutton. Sometimes the smell is enough. Or just the thought of it fills you up." Lisbeth is not the only one grinning now, she knows Kat and Sina are picturing the same thing she is: a naked Steinar with twisted ram's horns covering his ears. His pointy nose quivering, sniffing boiled cabbage and peppercorns.”

“It wasn't me. Mrs Queenie Bligh, she wasn't even there. This woman was a beauty -- he couldn't get enough of her. He liked the downy softness of the blonde hairs on her legs. Her nipples were the pinkest he'd ever seen. Her throat -- he just had to kiss her throat. This woman was as sexy as any starlet on a silver screen. The zebra of their legs twined and untwined together on the bed. Her hands, pale as a ghost's, caressed every part of his nut-brown skin. She was so desirable he polished her with hot breath -- his tongue lapping between her legs like a cat with cream. It wasn't me. This woman watching his buttocks rise and fall sucked at every finger on his hand. She clawed his back and cried out until his mouth lowering down filled hers with his eager tongue. It wasn't me. This woman panted and thrust and bit. And when he rolled her over she yelped wickedly into the pillow. Mrs Queenie Bligh would never do such a thing. That one, Mrs Bligh, usually worked out what she could make for dinner during sexual relations with her husband. But this woman, if it hadn't been for the blackout, could have lit up London.”

“Upon the proper use and conservation of sexual force the progress of civilization itself depends. All history shows that just in proportion as the sex instinct is kept sacred, pure, and the life essence properly used and converted into creative, productive power, does a nation reach a high state of civilization. Wherever this instinct becomes generally perverted, as it did in ancient Rome, people become devitalized, lose their physical and mental stamina, and rapidly deteriorate. Where it is protected by virtue and purity of life, the nation rises in the scale of civilization; where it is abused, perverted, the nation sinks to the level of low-flying ideals.”