She was not in love with any girl in particular,
but simply with girls because they were girls,
the way one can be in love with ones own image- always finding others more lovelier than one finds ones own self. The pleasures she tasted in seeing a girl pant under her caresses, in seeing her eyes grow vague, swimming, her eyelids close, in stiffing the tips of the girls breasts with the tips of ones lips and teeth, by thrusting into her belly- in hearing her sigh, moan, cry - AH THAT! that she adored: if that pleasure was intense, incisive, it was only because it made her think constantly of the pleasure she could receive from the girl in her turn, when in turn her muscles contracted, when she herself would moan, yes that she adored.

The Story of O (via fridasnips)