the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Tag: erotica

The Photo Shoot


Today, I finally played around with the free phone I got for being a Sprint Ambassador.  It’s a cool phone with a lot of options:  the ability to go online, to download music, and to watch TV.  It also has a decent camera.  I was going to take some photos, but I couldn’t figure out what to photograph.  I was going to put the phone away when I heard my Penis talking to me from inside my pants.

“Hey, I have an idea.  Let’s do some cockblogging.”


“You know, all those websites that women have where men send photos in of their erections.  Let’s take a photo of me.”

“And why on Earth would I want to do that?”

“Answer me this.  Have you ever looked at a photo of a naked woman online?”

“Uh,  sometimes.”

“Think of this as giving something back to the community.”

“I don’t think so.  I don’t enjoy the idea of plastering an image of my penis all over the blogosphere.  Especially since I’m supposedly looking for a job.”

“It might actually HELP you get a better job.  Employers like workers with initiative.”

“I don’t really really feel comfortable with this.”

“You say you’re a believer in feminism and women’s equality, but when women want to express their sexuality by looking at erect penises, you mock them.”

“I’m not mocking them.”

“Why don’t you just put them behind Burqas?  Move them all to Saudi Arabia, you hypocrite.”

“Penis, you’re really being manipulative with this argument.”

“As they say, if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.”

“You’re totally out of line, Penis…”

“C’mon… do it for the women.  The lonely women.  The ones who will be home on Valentine’s Day without a boyfriend and all they have is your erect penis on the computer monitor.  Be a mensch.”

I started thinking about all my lonely Valentine’s Days, when the only one who sent me a card was my mother.

“Do you really think it will help brighten someone’s day?”

“Sure… sure…   and isn’t that what you’re all about…”

“I do like to make other people happy…”

“Then it’s settled…”

“OK, let’s try it and see what happens. ”

“Great, let’s get to work!”

“What’s the first step?”

“Do you still have that “Dancing with the Stars” on the Tivo?  The one with the very sexy dancer named Cheryl doing the rumba in that short skirt?”

“I think so.”

Four minutes later we were ready for the photo shoot.

We moved to the bedroom, where I attempted to frame the perfect shot.  I checked the light with an old light meter I had used in film school.

“Penis, could you just move over a little to the left… that’s it… good…good… Brilliant lighting.  It reminds me a little bit of the opening shot in “Rear Window””

“You do realize you’re setting things up to take the shot from the left side.  When I’m actually more photogenic on my right side.

“Well, I have to do it this way if I want the mirror in the shot.  There supposed to be a reflection.  Did you ever see Bergman’s “Wild Strawberries?””

“Are you an asshole?  I’m the one who’s going to be in the photo and I’m telling you that my right side is better!”

“Does it really matter which side I shoot you from?”

“Would you ask that of  Barbra Streisand?  On talk shows, they rearrange the furniture just for her. She even comes with her own special lighting equipment.”

“For a man’s dick, you’re a real prima donna.”

“I think you’re a little jealous that I’m the star here, and you’re just the crew.  Below-the-line, as they say in Hollywood.”

“I’m the photographer, jerk.  Like Ansel Adams, they remember the photographer, not the subject.”

“Oh yeah, so tell me, what were you thinking of naming this photograph?”

“How about something like… “Neil and his Cock?”

“You slimy backstabber.  I knew it!  It clearly should be named “The Cock and his Neil.””

“You’re my cock.  Why should you get top billing?”

“Oh, I see.  Now you want top billing?  Before you didn’t even want anyone to do this.  Now all of a sudden, you see the fame and fortune.   Very “All about Eve” of you.   I do the work and you take the money.  Welcome to the entertainment industry.”

“Listen, Penis, I don’t care what you say.  I’m not going to put my own name after my own cock.”

“Oh, Big Neilochka.  Now I see the real you.  You say you’re a nice guy, but you’re really a creep.  You want to play hard ball…”

“Calm down, Penis.”

“Who are you to tell me what to do?  I run things around here.”

“Actually you don’t.  I do.”


“You know, forget it.  This photo shoot is off!”

“Fuck you, Neilochka!”

“OK, Penis, go back to normal.”

“Ha Ha.  Sucker!  I’m staying up as long as I want.  Hard as a rock.”

“Go down, I insist.”

“Fuck you.  Fuck you.  Fuck you.”

“Look, if you’re not going to go down yourself, I can just –”

“Get your goddamn hand off me.  How rude.  You don’t touch me unless I agree to it.  Sometimes no means no.”

“OK, I’m sorry.  May I, please…?”


“OK, fine.  Then I’m going to take a cold shower.  That should work.”

‘No, it won’t.  Not if I don’t say so.”

“Oh, yes it will.”

“Ten bucks.”

“You’re on!”

As I headed to the shower, I could hear —

“Scarlett Johannson’s gorgeous ripe, delicious tits.  Imagine them in your face.  Sharon Stone slowly opening her thighs revealing the good stuff in Basic Instinct.  She’s calling you over.  “Neilochka, Neilochka, fuck me, fuck me.  Sophia in Madrid during the honeymoon, slowly taking off her clothes.”

“OK, shut up!  Shut up!”

I reached over for the telephone and dialed it.  Sophia answered.


“Sophia, it’s me.  I need you to come over right away.”

“I’m watching last week’s Celebrity Poker Showdown.”

“It’s an emergency.”

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s, uh, my cock… I need you to…”

“Gee, how romantic.  Good-bye.”

Click.  She hung up.

“OK, I give up.”

“Good — let’s go back to the shoot.”


“Ha Ha.  The Penis always wins.”

But I didn’t say I was going to take a GOOD SHOT.

Who’s the sucker now, Penis?!   You are!!   Loser!

Man 1    Penis 0


My First Piece of Erotica


One of my fellow bloggers has two blogs, one regular and a second blog of erotica based on her true-life experiences with her boyfriend.

(I won’t mention who unless she wants me to).

Since I am a competitive blogger and always out to increase my readership, I’ve decided to take a stab at erotica based on a real-life romantic encounter.    So, send the kids away and prepare to get HOT.   And Mom, you can read it too.  I know you watched "Sex and the City."   I also used to sneak looks at those sexy Judith Krantz novels you used to read.   I still keep the ripped out page 123 of "Princess Daisy" in my sock drawer.

NIGHT OF PASSION — erotica by Neil Kramer

"Thanks for fixing my Tivo," said Sophia, as I stirred my homemade tomato sauce in the pot. 

Sophia was wearing a sexy new outfit, and she looked terrific.

"It’s also nice of you to make dinner, Neilochka,"  she said.

"My pleasure, Sofotchka."

My wife (former wife?) smiled at me in that special way she did before we separated two years ago.  I thought that maybe she did have "pleasure" on her mind, but not the one having anything to do with my pasta.

We slowly moved closer and closer.  We kissed, our lips eager for each other.  I could feel the energy flowing through my body.  I ripped off her blouse, the buttons flying.

"Oops, I’m sorry."

"Don’t worry.  I got it at sale at Loehmann’s.  Only twelve dollars!"

"Great buy.  And it looks great.  Very flattering."


I saw that she was braless.  Her magnificent breasts called out to me, " Touch us, hold us, kiss us!"  Her nipples were as hard as the growing bulge in my pants.

"Let’s go to the bedroom."

"What about the pasta?"

"Shut it off.  I honestly never liked your ‘homemade’ tomato sauce anyway."

I laughed.  I always found her total honesty very sexy.

Before we knew it, we were moving into the bedroom.  The bedroom looked different than when I lived here, because Sophia wanted to change the feng shui of the room to create better energy.  And it certainly was working for me.  Sophia reached for my belt and quickly undid my pants, releasing the pressure.  My engorged tool stood at attention, ready and willing.

"Oh, Neilochka, you have the biggest c–k I’ve ever seen."

She knew I loved it when she talked dirty.  But then again, she also had that habit of always telling the truth —

"Maybe not as big as the Vladimir’s c–k from Moscow, or Bibi’s c–k from Tel Aviv, or the c–k of that Jamaican steel drummer from New York, or the c–k of that lifeguard from Malibu…"

"OK, I get it.  Let’s just… shhh."

I dove between her legs.  Sophia sighed.  I quickly let her "big" comment fade from my memory.  Well not quite.  It reminded me of something else.

"Oh, by the way, did you get "Big" from Netflix yet?"

"I did.  I watched it and sent it back."

I quickly sat up, annoyed.

"Why did you do that?  I asked you to get it for me."

"It ‘s been a week already.  I sent it back so I could get ‘Monster-in-Law.’"

"I wanted to watch "Big" again.  I have a screenplay idea that uses some of the elements."
"I’m sorry.  Besides… you had that idea three years ago.  It’s a awful movie idea."

"It’s commercial."

Sophia mumbled something I couldn’t hear.



"No, tell me."


"Yes!  Tell me, already!"

"OK… you used to have so many creative ideas.  Then all you started to care about was ‘commercial.’  No wonder you never sell anything."

"Come again?"

"It’s like your blog.  It was great in the beginning.  Now you just pander to the lowest common denominator of your readers with stupid sex jokes.  It’s all fluff, no content."

"OK, so I’m not Instapundit, writing about the latest politics."

"And stop flirting with all the women online.  It makes you look easy."

"I am easy."

"Look, your erection’s gone already.  Why don’t you write about that on your blog?"

"My erection is not gone."


"Then it’s your fault.  Yours… and… and…  that stupid cholesterol medicine you’re making me take."

Sophia now mumbles something in Russian.

"You know, my readers are so much more nicer than you.  If I lived in Florida — within one week, I bet I’d be sleeping in Brooke‘s bed."

"Right.  Until she sees your bank account.  And what you think your cholesterol medicine does to your erection."

"You know… you… you… you looked like you gained three pounds."

"I did not!  You’re lying."

"Yeah, in your hips."

"You lie!  Mark said I look great."

"Who’s Mark?"

"Oh, I didn’t tell you.  I went on a date with someone from court."

"You went on a date and didn’t tell me?"

"Why?   Do you tell me everything?"

"Yes, because you force it out of me!  I don’t even know why we’re still married."

"We’re not.  We’re separated."

"I’m going home… and taking my erection with me."

"Wait!  Neilochka!  Don’t leave yet.  Before you go, could you do a virus scan on my computer.  I think there’s a problem."

"OK… Sofotchka."

Social media & sharing icons powered by UltimatelySocial