After months of dating and loving my 18 inches Brazilian hair, I dreaded the day he will finally meet my kinks. I loved and cared for my kinks but the question was, "will he?". Too many questions run through my head as I dressed up for our date. Questions I had to wait patiently to read the look in his face for an answer.
Twist out or puff? Neat or messy? I finally pulled hair into a puff and said a little prayer to the god of beauty as I embarked on my journey to meet my heart throb.
Date was awesome, the issue of my look was deliberately avoided, except a few stares of curiousity from the boo, we were just a bunch of happy lovers.
My heart sunk with each new topic of discussion which was not about my hair. Finally, date ended. The ride home was silent. Thick unbearable silence! Many thoughts creeped through my head. Top of them being how he hates my hair! Finally we got to my date. I hopped out of the car with the speed of a deer. Hurried out before he could dare say what I thought he had been thinking. He followed me indoors and said, "don't I deserve a good night kiss?". I thought, "what for? For being such a gentleman and not telling me how awful my hair was?" He leaned over and kissed me, tentatively running his hand through the nape of my hair, flirting with each little curl tenderly. He grew bolder and run his hand through my hair, treating it like some fine silk... Between kisses he said, "it takes a passionate person to rock some kinks". Instantly, I knew I was kissing my future hubby!
