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Quote by Roger Scruton

“It always astonishes me to discover people who think that religion and sex have nothing to do with one another, and that you can act as you like in the one sphere while thinking what you should in the other. In fact, of all the rites of passage that religions have taken under their wing, that of sexual initiation has been by the most tenaciously adhered to. English people today look with incredulity on the habit in some Muslim communities of veiling and hiding women, of forcing them to marry the man chosen for them, and of occasionally killing them for 'honour's' sake. What can this possibly have to do with obedience to Allah, the compassionate, the merciful, they ask themselves? In fact, it has everything to do with it. Sex is not only the gateway through which the next generation enters the community; it is the place in which our actions are most unavoidably subject to the ethic of 'pollution and taboo'.”

Quote by Roger Scruton

Work

Our Church: A Personal History of the Church of England

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Author

Roger Scruton
Roger Scruton

Roger Scruton, born on February 27, 1944, is a renowned British philosopher. His research areas include aesthetics, political philosophy, and moral philosophy, which have had a profound impact on the philosophical world. more

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“He grazed a fang across my collarbone and I shivered. The building pressure had me on the edge and teetering. It was absolutely ridiculous that I was so close to orgasm with only a few strokes of his fingers, but Devin managed to pull it out of me as I grabbed the sheets at my side and pressed the side of my face into the bed. The heat slammed into me in waves. It was all I could do to hold on for the ride, letting out a senseless sound of pleasure. He pulled his hand away slowly, kissing my forehead. "More?" "No," I breathed. "You, now, please." I pulled him down and kissed him deeply. He shifted how he was leaning over me, scooting up the bed as he did it. As he pressed himself firmly against my entrance, I was ready to beg for it if I had to. I wanted Devin. Now. He slid himself just inside. A sharp breath, my eyes widened. The nostalgia pinch of being stretched open surprised me. "I'm all right," I breathed. "It's just been a while." He pressed in a little farther. I dug my nails lightly into his back, and he growled in approval. He grazed my neck with his fangs and a soft noise escaped my lips; he licked and kissed my skin on his way back up to my mouth. An ice-cold breeze whipped past us. I held on tighter as Devin thrust deep inside. I screamed as the waves of pleasure hit again, somehow even harder than before. I removed my nails from his back when I realized how deeply I had dug them into his skin, but he didn't seem to notice. Everything felt like jelly. Content, unwound jelly. I rolled on my side, catching my breath as Devin curled me into his body, one hand lazily stroking my stomach. "How do you feel?" "That was intense," I breathed. "Is it always like that with fae?" "Too much?" He nuzzled into my hair.”

“He reached up to gently pull the elastic from my hair, combing his fingers through the waves as they splayed over my shoulders. Even that massage on my scalp felt good, and I closed my eyes, swaying into him. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against my mouth, his hands still in my hair as he kissed me. This kiss was different from the ones in the pool, somehow--- slower, more exploratory, as though he had all the time in the world and he wanted to spend it with me. Meanwhile, I felt restless and pent-up and like if I didn't have him inside me right then I would explode. My insistent hands on his towel and underwear must've given him the hint, because within five seconds we were both naked and twined together on the bed, kissing and touching everywhere we could. I took the hard length of him in my hand, and he shuddered against me as I rubbed my thumb along the silky head of his cock. "Ah," he said, his voice sounding strangled. "I won't last long if you keep doing that." "What, this?" I said, and did it again. I liked seeing him this way, out of control, his eyes glittering and wild in the low light of the room. But then he turned the tables on me, flipping me over so I was pinned on my back, and he kissed his way down my throat, stopping to suck one aching nipple in his mouth, roll his tongue along the swell of my stomach before he found my clit. I bucked involuntarily, my hips grinding into him as if my body knew it needed more even before my mind did. He licked and sucked, his tongue doing wicked things inside me, until there was no way I could hold myself back even if I wanted to. I clenched at the sheets, gasping as I felt my orgasm shockwave through me.”

“Being naked takes on different values, according to the self-consciousness of the one who is naked; or according to the consciousness of the one who is looking at the nakedness. The men are tortured in their minds by the meaning of being naked, especially by the literal nakedness of women but also by their own nakedness: what it means to be seen and to be vulnerable. The nakedness of the women they look at, interpret, desire, associate with acts of violence they want to commit.”

“At some level, all love is combat, a wrestling with ghosts. We are only for something by being against something else. People who believe they are having pleasant, casual, uncomplex sexual encounters, whether with friend, spouse, or stranger are blocking from consciousness the tangle of psychodynamics at work, just as they block the hostile clashings of their dream life.”