“I like a girl with a long ponytail,” he wasn’t looking at her but decided to blurt it out randomly.
“Why?” She asked.
“There’s something playful about them. It gives a girl a presence of being energetic.”
“So you want a gym buddy?”
He shook his head no and laughed softly.
“Then what is it?”
“Something a little more intimate then that.”
“Now you have to tell me.”
“Alright, you were warned though.”
She looked at him skeptically.
“It would serve multiple purposes. I love a woman’s hair. The look of it when it’s done nicely. It’s better than any piece of clothing she can wear. If its high, in a ponytail, bouncing? That’s attractive. It turns me on. I want to grab it. I want to pull it towards me and kiss her cheek and neck while inhaling her scent. I want to have my hand wrapped up in it, as if it were a leash or a strap extending from her head. Tangled up enough that every move my hand makes her head goes with it.”
“When we’re having sex I want to see it still perfectly positioned on top of her head. Immaculate despite all of my rough pulling and tugging. The hairs directly on top of her head pulled tight and seamless into that gorgeous ponytail.”
“Eventually I’d want it taken out. Probably. Have her on top of me, riding me, fucking me, her body writhing and her chest heaving. I’d tell her to take it out and let it tumble down her shoulders. The hair escaping from its coiled prison and collapsing down with her onto me, burying me in its wake. It’s just a cute little fantasy I have. Specific. Nothing fancy.”
She was biting her lip, looking him in the face. Her breath was steady and her eyes flicked from his gaze to his lips and back to his gaze again.
“That was, intense sounding.”
“Fantasies should be.”
“Want to make it a reality?”
He turned to look at her, surprised as he watched her pulling her hair up above her head with a scrunchy around her wrist.