Tag Archives: neck

Collar

Collar: (n) a band of material around the neck of a shirt, dress, coat, or jacket

Feeling very comfortable with my interactions with a dear young lady, I explained to her that I preferred collarless shirts. She listened intently,
coming very close to feigning interest.

I explained that the collar rubbed against my neck–itched–and when I sweat, made my skin burn.

It was further aggravated if I inserted a tie into the shirt, needing to fasten that top button. She listened and listened. She even smiled a couple of times.

At the end of the conversation, when I felt I had thoroughly explained the reasons for my preference, she walked over and looked around my neck and said, “I don’t think the collar is your problem.”

I was stupefied. (Well, at least confused.)

I said, “Okay… What is my problem?”

“You just have a really, really dirty neck,” she said.

I was offended. I suppose there were other choices available to me, but fortunately, she stepped in and offered to wash my neck for me so I would understand that my skin was soiled and therefore overly sensitive.

So she got a sudsy washcloth and gently rubbed my neck until it was clean. I was embarrassed, enticed, curious, dumbfounded and a little turned on.

She finished washing my neck, dried it with a clean towel and put some lotion on it.

She was right.

I never had another problem wearing a shirt with a collar.

The only problem was scheduling the times for her to come and wash my neck.

 

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ABO

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

ABO: (n.) A system of four basic types–A, AB, B and O–into which human blood may be classified, based on the presence or absence of certain inherited antigens.

I realize that I would make a terrible vampire.

I would be great with the intellectual pursuit–in other words, studying the types of blood, speculating on the various textures or flavors. Occasionally at a dinner party, I might pull off sipping some of the hemoglobin, to be fashionable or even fun-loving. But I could never be a guzzler.

I think the teeth bother me, too. Talk about telegraphing your intentions–with two pointy incisors protruding from your jowls!

I don’t particularly like the hours, either. I work best in the morning, and after midnight, I kind of zone out.

I guess I am one of those weirdos who never understood the romantic or sexual energy from the whole vampire thing. In the midst of pleasure, I really don’t want to be bitten. If that makes me the non-adventurous type, then so be it. I especially would not want to be chewed on if the goal was to drain my blood. Isn’t a certain amount of blood circulation necessary to achieve pleasure?

I guess vampires confuse me.

The only advantage they have seems to be immortality, but if you end up working a blood-sucking job, what’s the glory of living forever?

I don’t think I’m a fuddy-duddy and if somebody nibbled on my neck a bit in the throes of passion, producing some tingles, it would be fine. But I think I would be a very dishonest vampire. I would have to pretend I was turned on by the look and probably would end up pouring V-8 Juice in my glass to fool my fellow-believers, and also to get my two servings of vegetables.

Yes, blood types are really nice to think about if you need blood. Other than that, it’s kind of icky.

So if there is a choice in the matter, I choose NOT to be a vampire. I’m not really interested in vampires, and I, for one, think Dracula is creepy rather than sexy.

But I guess if you want to be overtaken, bit on the neck and have all your blood drained as a type of foreplay, this is the United States of America–a free country. Go for it.

Not for me. I’m still trying to learn the intricacies and techniques of French kissing.