Citizen of the Month

the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

The Shoulder

The shoulder is the Mason-Dixon line of a woman’s body. North and South. To the North are her wide eyes and the gentle face, as innocent as a child’s. To the South lies the lusty flesh that is only seen in private, at night, when the soulful music plays.

I think about her naked shoulder, about the smooth curve. I am a man obsessed, who cannot focus on food, writing, or sleep.

She was in my bed that night, and I felt every inch of her electricity for hours. So why does my mind only focus on the shoulder — a utilitarian section of the woman’s body, hardly mysterious or sung about in song? Do I need to Google “shoulder fetish” this afternoon online?

In the morning, when I woke up, she was asleep. I was not alone in my sensation of early morning male ardor. The sun was there too, greedily forcing his way in through the slats of the Venetian blinds. The mighty sun broke through, his goal the same as mine. He went straight for her bare shoulder, like a pulsated arrow searching for the bulls-eye.

Several strands of hair covered our object of affection, teasing us both like the feathers of a burlesque dancer. I brushed her hair aside and kissed the soft nakedness of my favorite spot. I was confident that I could compete with the sun. She awoke, like Sleeping Beauty, and I bit her shoulder hard. I shifted my body towards her, blocking the rays of the sun from view, vanquishing my competitor. Her shoulder was now mine, alone, as was the roadmap to North and South.

I think about her shoulder all day and all night. I am a man obsessed, who cannot focus on food, writing, or sleep.

11 Comments

  1. Totally worth every second I spent reading this. Lovely. *sigh*

  2. (I am almost afraid to comment lest I break the spell. Hence the parentheses…)
    (Shoulder and neck is indeed a sexy area. you are a man of great taste…)

  3. You’re so romantic Neil. Clearly, you’re not thinking of MY shoulder. Scarred, filled with metal plates and titanium screws. Operated by wires and 24 electrodes ….

    And yet, when he touches my shoulder with incredible tenderness it touches me more than any other caress …

  4. And I thought vampires went for the neck! I stand corrected.

  5. I don’t know, a shoulder can hold all sorts of mystery.

  6. For an obsessed man who cannot focus or write – you just did a a damn hot job of it!

  7. I like.

    I may or may not have a forearm fetish. Depends on whom its attached to. ; )

  8. If I Google shoulder fetish, I bet this is the first post to appear.
    (kidding)
    It’s a lovely ode to a gorgeous part of the body, indeed.

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