The Neck
There's something sexy about the hairline at the back of a man's neck. I don't think it could be called a fetish, nor is it a big preference, but it could be a huge turn on. At least for me.
None of my ex-boyfriends or ex-flings have a sexy hairline at the back of their necks. Naturally, so far I have always found myself going ga ga at some stranger's backsides. I feel so dirty.
When vacationing to the beach with Trey three decades ago, I stumbled upon one particularly yummy guy. He stood right in front of me, in the queue for hotdogs and ice cream stand. It was a hot day, the sky was bright blue, the breaking waves were foamy white, and his skin was beautifully golden. In my mind it smelled like coconut and lemon. Needless to say his shirt was off. Surfer boy. His fine hair wavy, sunkissed blonde, and the hairline at the back of his neck made my heart skipped a beat. I actually held my breath through the duration of the queue, and it was quite a long queue.
I was heavily intoxicated with this sexiness. I was floating in the air, I was diving deep into the sea, my chest cavity exploded and catapulted me into the outerspace, bursting a bright supernova in the sea of stars. I was everywhere but there, standing behind the Golden Surf God, staring at the sexy hairline at the back of his neck, queueing for what it seemed like an eternity. Oh my, what a sweet agony.
And then it was his turn. He ordered a ration worth a whole platoon. I guess the orange food stand hid some magical fairies zapping food into existence from empty air; piles of food magically appears within minutes. Golden Surf God paid cash. Golden Surf God grabbed the big brown paper bag. Golden Surf God turned around to leave the premises to grant food to his clan of surfer followers.
I shut my eyes.
I shut my eyes tight because I suddenly feared his face would not matched the sensation the back of his neck gave me.
None of my ex-boyfriends or ex-flings have a sexy hairline at the back of their necks. Naturally, so far I have always found myself going ga ga at some stranger's backsides. I feel so dirty.
When vacationing to the beach with Trey three decades ago, I stumbled upon one particularly yummy guy. He stood right in front of me, in the queue for hotdogs and ice cream stand. It was a hot day, the sky was bright blue, the breaking waves were foamy white, and his skin was beautifully golden. In my mind it smelled like coconut and lemon. Needless to say his shirt was off. Surfer boy. His fine hair wavy, sunkissed blonde, and the hairline at the back of his neck made my heart skipped a beat. I actually held my breath through the duration of the queue, and it was quite a long queue.
I was heavily intoxicated with this sexiness. I was floating in the air, I was diving deep into the sea, my chest cavity exploded and catapulted me into the outerspace, bursting a bright supernova in the sea of stars. I was everywhere but there, standing behind the Golden Surf God, staring at the sexy hairline at the back of his neck, queueing for what it seemed like an eternity. Oh my, what a sweet agony.
And then it was his turn. He ordered a ration worth a whole platoon. I guess the orange food stand hid some magical fairies zapping food into existence from empty air; piles of food magically appears within minutes. Golden Surf God paid cash. Golden Surf God grabbed the big brown paper bag. Golden Surf God turned around to leave the premises to grant food to his clan of surfer followers.
I shut my eyes.
I shut my eyes tight because I suddenly feared his face would not matched the sensation the back of his neck gave me.
Labels: sexy
posted by M. Lim | 6:40 PM
1 Comments:
My baby just cut off his long locks that I adored so much - but my mourning was reduced when I too realised the sexiness of the back of his neck - previously a mystery to me...
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