each neck looks different, some thin some fat, some with curved wrinkles which stack togegether like wedges of fat which nestle sweatily together piled high like some kind of scultpure, neatly balanced together, supporting a head, defying gravity.
Long, slender necks are scary. Short, stubby necks are frightening. Necks full of hickeys are disgusting. Giraffes have long necks. Some cultural group stretches out their necks by adding ring after ring after ring. My neck serves no purpose but to hold up this mindless head of mines.
neck tattoos are very sexy unfortnately it would look unprofessional if I were to wear one, I think men look dangerous with a neck tattoo and I like that, I know my husband would never get one but he should, with my name on it!
the neck used to be shown in art as elongated. it doesn’t seem to be so exagerrated now in portaits. turkeys have long necks. so do giraffes. it is funny how you see the word neck used in the naming of geographical locations.
In the beginning her neck was covered with the sweetest chain of daises. Her heart was full with wonder, full of grace. But time moved on, days dragged. Her neck became bare, holding up her head, holding up her thoughts. Her mind became ragged. Yet still she carries on. One day she will find her daisy chain again. The wonder will return and with that will come grace. And with her grace will come childish wonder.
His neck was bleeding. The hermit crab had pinched him fairly forcefully, and his friend Ernesto took a picture of his injury with his black Polaroid camera to “collect evidence.” They were on an expedition to show that hermit crabs were indeed dangerous animals: the cut proved so.
neck. a neck is something that holds you head to your body. i am a very very vry forgetful person. so could you imagine if i didnt have a neck? oh dear, oh dear. i would not have a head.
yes i lost my head a while back, but still, its is stuck right to my body thanks to my vvery handy dandy neck!
She kissed my neck. I nearly dropped my cigarette. We had been out on the porch, in the cold, for hours. She had been my neighbor for three years. From the moment I saw her move in I knew she would have the softest lips. She always puckered her mouth so it was hard to tell.
She kissed my neck. I didn’t know what to think. She had been my neighbor for three years. We always went out on the porch late at night to smoke our vile cigarettes. I didn’t know what to think then and I don’t know what to think now.
Necks, the body part that attaches a head to the torso and shoulders. The neck can often be overlooked with such vile and beautiful faces on this planet. Necks seem to take a lower role when considering about someones appearance.
i love it when you kiss my neck the stubble of yours rubs against mine. our pulses pounding and breath heavy. so delicate or masculine. hold your head up.
She bowed her head slightly, blushing at his advances. He nibbled her neck, stopping at her jawline and then whispered an inappropriate nothing against her lips. She felt the blood rushing along his kisses to her face, turning her into a beet.
The neck is an interesting part of the body. It holds up your head. It attaches your head to your body. Without your neck, you would look weird. It feels good to get kisses on your neck. You can nuzzle your head perfectly onto someone else’s neck. The back of your neck and feel weird when it’s cold.
A hand moved across his neck, palm caressing the line. Small, diamond bumps of scar tissue were raised beneath his fingers, and a painful reminder of what, exactly, he had done to get them came flooding back.
“Kiran?”
He snapped out of it, eyes unglazing as he focused back on the real world. He looked at her, as if he had never been gone.
“Yes, Liana?” The stilted, calculating, analytical tone was there. His safeguard was in place.
She hesitated.
“Never mind.”
Dusky fingers dropped to his side, and with care Kiran Sharma trailed behind the lively group of his traveling companions
Well, I have one. We all have one. And it doesn’t matter who we are. Some people have elongated them to the point that they don’t work anymore, some people have extra long, thinks naturally and others have no neck at all, or so it appears. Those people are particularly interesting. Although honestly one of the most attractive or unattractive features can be the neck.
Why would you write some sex or romance related story when the prompt is “neck?” Instead, you should write something about giraffes. Or those people in Africa (I think) who think that long necks are a mark of beauty. Then you don’t weird people out. And. There are prolly young people who are on this site.
The unicorn’s neck was suspiciously long. It left the children to believe that perhaps the unicorn’s father was a giraffe. This would explain its spotted pattern and freakishly long and flexible tongue. Still, it was a friendly unicorn, and took them on a ride on its back through the magical lollipop forest.
He buried his face in her neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo. “have you never noticed how wonderful it smells?” he muttered.
“of course i did, silly. why else would i buy it time and time again.”
he grinned against the warm skin of her throat. “to please me, of course.” she giggled.
neck’s are wonderful things. they hold your head up, and are supported by your shoulders. Without a neck, you would look very strange. Some people probably have no necks. Fortunately for me, I do.
Oh, I absolutely love having my neck kissed. It’s the slightest, sweetest, and simplest sensation that just tickles down to my shoulders. But necklaces? I’m don’t really like them. I’m more of a bracelet kinda gal. Here’s a tip for every man: brush your fingertips along your lady’s neck, slightly moving her hair out of the way, will surely give her goosebumps.
neck.bruised/faint markings that screams of a past of squeezing/choking/strangulation/ it’s red.purple.yellow and green. this neck.(perhaps it’s mine) is covered with my own hand prints.
I love it when you kiss my neck. The tingle down my spine is the most heavenly feeling ever felt. You whisper sweet nothings into my ear and my heart just melts at the feeling of your breath on my neck, ear, and face. You have the touch no one can recreate. I love you.
I saw his neck and I looked at the pale, soft skin. My mind began to race, thinking about all of the things I could do to get near his neck: I’d like to brush my soft pink lips on it, maybe rub it, maybe just lay my head on his shoulder and nuzzle it with my nose…
His neck extended, long and lengthy like the handle of the broadsword he was holding. The weight was immense, and the tendons under recently tanned flesh tightened in preparation.
He swung.
Once, twice. A slash here, a jab there, a dice or two in this direction or that–finally, the monster fell to pieces, a green blood oozing out of it and covering the floor of the battle arena.
Wiping the sweat from his face on the bottom of his orange T-shirt, Leo sighed in momentary relief. He was improving–his skills were improving–but when it came down to the real deal with a real monster, a simple steel blade wouldn’t be enough.
The thing around his neck was hideous. I wanted to rip it off and throw it into the lake. It was from her. The other woman. Yet I knew I had no power and no chance with him. I still held onto that hope. The hope that he would one day be mine. That he would see what she truly was and
each neck looks different, some thin some fat, some with curved wrinkles which stack togegether like wedges of fat which nestle sweatily together piled high like some kind of scultpure, neatly balanced together, supporting a head, defying gravity.
The neck of the bottle was wide enough only to get a small pea into it’s top, probably an old pharmaceutical piece.
Long, slender necks are scary. Short, stubby necks are frightening. Necks full of hickeys are disgusting. Giraffes have long necks. Some cultural group stretches out their necks by adding ring after ring after ring. My neck serves no purpose but to hold up this mindless head of mines.
necks are a pleasuable body part, the are senusal and lean, i get goosebumps when my husband kisses my neck!
neck tattoos are very sexy unfortnately it would look unprofessional if I were to wear one, I think men look dangerous with a neck tattoo and I like that, I know my husband would never get one but he should, with my name on it!
the neck used to be shown in art as elongated. it doesn’t seem to be so exagerrated now in portaits. turkeys have long necks. so do giraffes. it is funny how you see the word neck used in the naming of geographical locations.
i can’t think about the neck. it’s durability is limited, and I have only regrets.
“delightful” she said.
The ROOT hangs as a KEYCHAIN from the TOWER.
Your GRAPE colored VEINS show through your NECK.
You gave not of respect when it was earned.
So I have choked the fear into your mind as
punishment.
Don’t forget this lesson.
Treat life as a game and you’ll fall prey to those that are serious.
I don’t like my neck. Giraffes have long necks. When I was young I liked to neck in the park or rather a parked car. Now I’ve drawn a blank and can
connects the head to the body, the brain to the heart
HAIKU:
Lies, all of it lies
History taught in our schools
A pain in the NECK
Inosculated
Recticulated Giraffe’s
Brown patched, long, strong NECK
…
-Nur Zweite
Neck is a promise away from the divine fruits from your limbs
In the beginning her neck was covered with the sweetest chain of daises. Her heart was full with wonder, full of grace. But time moved on, days dragged. Her neck became bare, holding up her head, holding up her thoughts. Her mind became ragged. Yet still she carries on. One day she will find her daisy chain again. The wonder will return and with that will come grace. And with her grace will come childish wonder.
His neck was bleeding. The hermit crab had pinched him fairly forcefully, and his friend Ernesto took a picture of his injury with his black Polaroid camera to “collect evidence.” They were on an expedition to show that hermit crabs were indeed dangerous animals: the cut proved so.
Keeps me from losing my head.
neck. a neck is something that holds you head to your body. i am a very very vry forgetful person. so could you imagine if i didnt have a neck? oh dear, oh dear. i would not have a head.
yes i lost my head a while back, but still, its is stuck right to my body thanks to my vvery handy dandy neck!
She kissed my neck. I nearly dropped my cigarette. We had been out on the porch, in the cold, for hours. She had been my neighbor for three years. From the moment I saw her move in I knew she would have the softest lips. She always puckered her mouth so it was hard to tell.
Now I know.
She kissed my neck. I didn’t know what to think. She had been my neighbor for three years. We always went out on the porch late at night to smoke our vile cigarettes. I didn’t know what to think then and I don’t know what to think now.
She is beautiful.
Necks, the body part that attaches a head to the torso and shoulders. The neck can often be overlooked with such vile and beautiful faces on this planet. Necks seem to take a lower role when considering about someones appearance.
i love it when you kiss my neck the stubble of yours rubs against mine. our pulses pounding and breath heavy. so delicate or masculine. hold your head up.
My neck is the pole
my head swivels upon,
Like a dummy for a ventriloquist,
I sit speaking his words,
doing his bidding.
She bowed her head slightly, blushing at his advances. He nibbled her neck, stopping at her jawline and then whispered an inappropriate nothing against her lips. She felt the blood rushing along his kisses to her face, turning her into a beet.
The neck is an interesting part of the body. It holds up your head. It attaches your head to your body. Without your neck, you would look weird. It feels good to get kisses on your neck. You can nuzzle your head perfectly onto someone else’s neck. The back of your neck and feel weird when it’s cold.
my neck
so often hurts
from always looking up
but I wouldn’t stop
if you forced me.
no, I will not stop.
I’ll keep looking up.
A hand moved across his neck, palm caressing the line. Small, diamond bumps of scar tissue were raised beneath his fingers, and a painful reminder of what, exactly, he had done to get them came flooding back.
“Kiran?”
He snapped out of it, eyes unglazing as he focused back on the real world. He looked at her, as if he had never been gone.
“Yes, Liana?” The stilted, calculating, analytical tone was there. His safeguard was in place.
She hesitated.
“Never mind.”
Dusky fingers dropped to his side, and with care Kiran Sharma trailed behind the lively group of his traveling companions
They still had so much to learn.
Well, I have one. We all have one. And it doesn’t matter who we are. Some people have elongated them to the point that they don’t work anymore, some people have extra long, thinks naturally and others have no neck at all, or so it appears. Those people are particularly interesting. Although honestly one of the most attractive or unattractive features can be the neck.
Why would you write some sex or romance related story when the prompt is “neck?” Instead, you should write something about giraffes. Or those people in Africa (I think) who think that long necks are a mark of beauty. Then you don’t weird people out. And. There are prolly young people who are on this site.
He put his hands at my throat.
It scared me that he could so easily hurt me; like I could die there, on the spot, all because of him.
But he didn’t. I’m alive. He kissed me there, at my wimpering mouth, and I quivered in fear regardless.
The unicorn’s neck was suspiciously long. It left the children to believe that perhaps the unicorn’s father was a giraffe. This would explain its spotted pattern and freakishly long and flexible tongue. Still, it was a friendly unicorn, and took them on a ride on its back through the magical lollipop forest.
He buried his face in her neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo. “have you never noticed how wonderful it smells?” he muttered.
“of course i did, silly. why else would i buy it time and time again.”
he grinned against the warm skin of her throat. “to please me, of course.” she giggled.
neck’s are wonderful things. they hold your head up, and are supported by your shoulders. Without a neck, you would look very strange. Some people probably have no necks. Fortunately for me, I do.
I kissed up and down his wretched neck. How I hated him and how I could never escape him. Such is love, I suppose.
Oh, I absolutely love having my neck kissed. It’s the slightest, sweetest, and simplest sensation that just tickles down to my shoulders. But necklaces? I’m don’t really like them. I’m more of a bracelet kinda gal. Here’s a tip for every man: brush your fingertips along your lady’s neck, slightly moving her hair out of the way, will surely give her goosebumps.
neck.bruised/faint markings that screams of a past of squeezing/choking/strangulation/ it’s red.purple.yellow and green. this neck.(perhaps it’s mine) is covered with my own hand prints.
I love it when you kiss my neck. The tingle down my spine is the most heavenly feeling ever felt. You whisper sweet nothings into my ear and my heart just melts at the feeling of your breath on my neck, ear, and face. You have the touch no one can recreate. I love you.
I saw his neck and I looked at the pale, soft skin. My mind began to race, thinking about all of the things I could do to get near his neck: I’d like to brush my soft pink lips on it, maybe rub it, maybe just lay my head on his shoulder and nuzzle it with my nose…
Craning her neck, she saw the world go by her window. It is safe in here but outside…it is a difficult world.
His neck extended, long and lengthy like the handle of the broadsword he was holding. The weight was immense, and the tendons under recently tanned flesh tightened in preparation.
He swung.
Once, twice. A slash here, a jab there, a dice or two in this direction or that–finally, the monster fell to pieces, a green blood oozing out of it and covering the floor of the battle arena.
Wiping the sweat from his face on the bottom of his orange T-shirt, Leo sighed in momentary relief. He was improving–his skills were improving–but when it came down to the real deal with a real monster, a simple steel blade wouldn’t be enough.
He needed something of celestial bronze.
Soon.
The thing around his neck was hideous. I wanted to rip it off and throw it into the lake. It was from her. The other woman. Yet I knew I had no power and no chance with him. I still held onto that hope. The hope that he would one day be mine. That he would see what she truly was and
neck