The Wave

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Wicked Wednesday – Wave

I like the wave of his hair. Most men with long hair just don’t interest me. They let the hair get tangled, they don’t seem to wash it enough (or they just sweat too much). For some reason long haired men never turned me on. Or if one did, it would be about the rest of him, not his hair.

Jeff… I’ll just call him Jeff, has a thick, wavy head of hair. The front is a layer of bangs which tend to fall over his face.  At the back it grows long, a little past his shoulders, soft and luxurious. In the wind his hair blows around his face. When he tips his chin up he looks like a lion with a proud mane.

I like to have Jeff chained to my bed in the morning. His arms resting along the top of the headboard, his wrists chained or tied to the bedposts. His head bowed down, hiding his expression.

If I look closer I will see him watching me. His eyes peer up through his bangs. Accusing, when I left him tied up while I enjoyed a nice Sunday morning breakfast and coffee, without him. Pouting, when he thought I’d been too mean the night before. Best of all, is the slow burn of his smile when he is hoping for more. Of course, I don’t see his smile. It’s there in his eyes, the seductive twinkle. Looking up at me, through that wavy mane of his hair. I know he’s just pretending to be patient, waiting, lurking, tied up in my bed.

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