My Neck, My Back, My...

I crack myself up. Imagine this story to the tune of the Khia song.

My Neck

“Oh yeah, right there, that’s where it really kills,” I exhaled all breathy, my eyes rolling up and into my skull as he dug the tips of strong fingers into the left side of the back of my neck. Later, his hand was on my breast and when we kissed, he moved it back up towards my collar and ever so gently squeezed. It was nice. I had a flash-back to a dude I’d hooked up with like ten years back — a comedian. When I tried to guide his hand towards my neck, he freaked out a little bit. Said he wasn’t into choking. I laughed, thinking he was joking. He didn’t laugh.

“Neither am I,” I said, sheepishly, feeling defensive. Seemed he didn’t believe me.

I’m really not. I just like to have my neck touched, I guess. But even if I was… so what?

Right now it’s hard to turn my head to the left cause my neck is so stiff, so I’ll take any kind of massage or squeeze I can squeeze out of someone. I’ve been stretching, doing yoga with Adriene on YouTube. These videos usually help, downward dogs with h…