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When I met Wendy, the first thing I noticed about her was her waist-length, chestnut-colored hair.
She was beautiful and had a great figure, but it was her long hair that really got my attention. It was thick and lustrous. I was so entranced by her luscious locks that she had to repeat herself twice before I finally snapped out of my daze and could respond to her greeting.
After we started dating, it wasn’t long before I had taken over the care and maintenance of her enchanting tresses. All my previous girlfriends had indulged my fetish, but they’d never seemed to enjoy it. Wendy was different. She asked me about my interest before I had a chance to bring it up myself, and when I confessed that I was aroused by her hair, she came up with the idea of letting me wash and brush it. Soon, we started spending several nights a week together so I could tend to her hair.
Last Friday was a typical night of hair-care. After dinner, I washed her hair with her favorite organic shampoo. I massaged her scalp as I lathered up the shampoo, then gently rubbed the suds through her long locks, making sure not to miss a single strand. Once I rinsed the soap out and patted her hair dry, I used a wide-tooth comb to untangle any knots, then used my fingertips to apply deep-conditioning hot oil. Fifteen minutes later, I rinsed out the oil and combed her hair once more, then loosely braided it and settled in on the sofa with Wendy to wait for her hair to dry.
We cuddled on the couch while we caught up on all the television shows we’d missed during the week, and when her hair was dry, it was time for my favorite part of the process: brushing. Wendy is every bit the modern woman, but she has one old-fashioned habit; she insists on one hundred strokes whenever I brush her hair. But there is nothing I enjoy more.
While Wendy sat on a high kitchen stool, I unwound her braid and combed the sections out with my fingers. I savored the feel of her soft, silky hair for several minutes, then went to get my girlfriend’s paddle brush with the ceramic tines and boar-hair bristles. The brush is perfect for her hair, because it separates the strands and makes them shine without causing any breakage. I’ve tried all kinds of brushes during our relationship, but that one works best.
As I worked, I ran my hand through the unbrushed portion of hair, and the feel of her tresses against my skin was a major turn-on. I made sure to count each stroke of the brush through her hair, but it soon seemed that I was counting the number of times my dick throbbed with arousal instead. I didn’t let my excitement distract me, though, and I kept my focus on the task at hand.
Finally, I neared the end of the job, and as I counted out, “One hundred,” I made sure to bump up against Wendy’s ass, letting her feel my erection. I heard her laugh as my hard-on rubbed against her through her robe, and then she asked if I was enjoying myself. “What gave me away?” I asked as I walked around in front of her, and she responded by pointing at the crotch of my pants, where my erection had created a rather prominent bulge.
“That looks painful,” she told me with a shake of her head, and I practically drooled as I watched her hair fall over her shoulders. “Would you like some help taking care of that?”
She was being incredibly cheesy, but I was so aroused from playing with her hair that I didn’t care what she said, as long as after she said it, we ended up in bed together.
She stood up and turned to lead me to the bedroom, and as she did, her hair swirled around her, making my dick pulse with excitement once more. I practically raced down the hall behind her, and as I crossed the threshold into the bedroom, I was just in time to watch her robe fall to the floor. When she turned to face me, the only thing covering her was her long hair, and I felt my heart pound. Seeing her naked, her gorgeous hair on display, never ceases to amaze me.
At Wendy’s command, I stripped and joined her, letting her pull me onto the bed. She mounted me in one swift movement, her slick cunt completely engulfing my rock-hard cock. She leaned forward as she started to ride me, and her long hair brushed my chest. As the strands tickled my skin, Wendy began thrusting up and down on my dick, and the feeling was incredible. Between her warm, wet pussy clenching around my shaft and her soft strands dancing on my chest, I was overwhelmed by the pleasurable sensations.
I was already aroused, and I didn’t think I could control myself. I hoped I would last until my girlfriend climaxed, but I was so turned on that I didn’t think I could hold out.
Wendy continued to fuck me for all she was worth while I ran my fingers through her silken tresses. I loved the feel of her hair against my ribs and my nipples and my arms, and I played with it more, moving it to tease me in new places. When my girlfriend caught on to what I was doing, as usual, she started to get into the game. She shifted around on top of me and began tickling me with the ends of her hair, brushing the feathery tips against my pelvis and the base of my dick. I groaned loudly when I felt her hair graze my cock, and my fingers dug into the mattress as I tried to hold on a little bit longer.
When it got to be too much, I grabbed Wendy’s wrists, causing her to drop her hair, and pulled her forward so she fell onto my chest. I thrust up into her over and over, then wrapped my arms around her and rolled over so I was on top of her — though I made sure to keep her hair twined between my fingers. Then I fucked her as hard as I could.
In no more than a minute, I felt myself going over the edge, and I kissed Wendy as I shot off inside her. I kept pumping through my orgasm, too, and I didn’t stop until she’d climaxed as well.
By the time we were finished, we were both sweaty, and Wendy’s hair was limp and tangled. I knew that as soon as we woke up the next morning, we’d be starting our hair routine all over again. But first we were going to get some sleep, and I planned to spend the night cuddled up to my beautiful girlfriend — and her hair.
