A figure slipped softly into the gloomy light beyond.

A lithe form slipped softly over the projecting edge.

He slipped softly out of bed and went out onto the balcony that encircled the farmyard.

At last, well after four a.m., still wide awake, she sat up and softly slipped out of bed.

Naked, beneath the blanket, we kissed again, and I felt myself slip softly, comfortably, perfectly into his embrace.

She slipped softly closer in mind, until she could actually start hearing some thoughts.

The iron barrier slipped slowly and softly into place.

Bodies crash and roll together anarchically, then slip softly into sleep or brief death.

I stabled her, and slipped softly back into the cabin, to seek out my own bed for the rest of the night.

Once more she leaned in for a kiss: light, quick, on my cheek, then she slipped softly out of my arms.