Just one Line.

A (white) religious zealot is berating her daughter and the daughter's black boyfriend, Ralph...

"[Good people] don't commit adultery and fornication!"

"Don't forget miscegenation," Ralph added.
 
Sasha stared glumly at her computer monitor. This wasn't the first all nighter she'd pulled over the years, but the previous ones didn't involve spreadsheets, just her spreading on the sheets.
 
From my upcoming essay, "Honey, We Need To Talk About Plagiarism:"

Over in software development land, things are even wilder. Everyone uses code that someone else has written. Everyone. Anyone who says they aren’t is either lying or doesn’t know their junior developer has been panic-Googling “why won’t this fucking thing compile?”
 
The expression find what you love and do it until it kills you takes on a whole new meaning when killing is what you love.
 
She was supposed to be watching the doors as she was working that night, but an eight-foot tall sasquatch –especially one dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and surfer shorts, and hammering a killer bass line– was bound to draw anyone’s attention for a moment.
 
Ellanora–Ella or Nora to her friends, as she had no preference–had chosen to welcome me to the neighborhood dressed in the at-the-time new uniform of the Greater North American Married Sexbomb: yoga pants stretched to their limit, loose t-shirt with the strap of a sports bra peeking out, running shoes that cost more than my first car, and a rock that could double as a signaling mirror on her left hand.
 
From the upcoming "Relaxing with Lisa"-

"You have to wait until I want it." [pause] "I want it now."

Technically that's two lines. But it works for the story. :D
 
Kerry's friends are trying to find her a man for some rebound sex: Making Lemonade

"They'd be OK. I suppose. But Kerry's got standards. She's been with women! She's going to want more than a tweak of the tits, two minutes of fingering, then two minutes of getting poked in a weird circle."

"God!" Maz groaned. "What is it with guys who want to roll their hips in circles?"
 
From a story with supernatural elements in which a rather gothic chick demands to have sex in a cemetery (I’m not sure if I pulled it off, but the vibe is supposed to be “there’s more to being a goth than having dark clothes and pale makeup, and this girl is the real deal”):

I want you to fuck me so hard they can hear us in the afterlife.
 
"A woman who makes money taking money shots, calling someone else a slut. That's a good one, Dana."

From WIP The Next Milf Porn Star: Take Two.
 
From a project where I'm trying for a change to write evocatively:
As the scene became more tranquil, the sun joined me in the gorge. Its light stroked the water, teasing it and playing with the shadows like it was tickling the stream and making it gurgle like a small child.
I'm not sure how comfortable I am with all the scenic detail I'm adding, though. For a start, it means I'm a thousand words in before any hint of sex appears.
 
"I wasn't completely certain, because such things aren't discussed here, but I was pretty sure the cock in my mouth belonged to a billionaire."


The opener of the story I had in my head when I woke up this morning.
 
"I wasn't completely certain, because such things aren't discussed here, but I was pretty sure the cock in my mouth belonged to a billionaire."


The opener of the story I had in my head when I woke up this morning.
I wonder where that story is “headed”.
 
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