To my dear friend Karen:

Years ago, you were the object of my dreams (ass length intensly soft asian hair). One day you asked me to brush your hair for you. We were in university and went to a practice room (both music students) and I brushed your hair as you played some music for me. We did that for about two hours...

I was absolutely dizzy... my mind was spinning the whole time and frequently I felt like I would pass out... My knees were weak so I had to sit behind you.

I was married at the time so I never tried to kiss you or approach you sexually (besides the fact that my fingers in your hair feel indiscernable from SEX to me)

The months and years passed, you would lay in my lap and fall asleep in those practice rooms as I read my homework, stroking your long silken tresses. I would occasionally suffocate my cock in your gorgeous locks without your knowledge. Word got out... No, not the bad kind of word...

The good word got out... A beautiful scene emerged in my 3rd and 4th years of my music degree. Word got out that I loved to brush women's hair... It only "got out" to women with very long beautifully thick hair. Karen (another Karen), Jennifer, Crystal, Liu, Rachel, Xiou Xiou, Grace, Tara... Oh GOD, Tara. She had about the softest hair I'd ever felt (except for the Korean girl I plan to marry soon... that's another story and I'll send pics when I retrieve her from Korea!)...

Tara would bike to school and I'd be there everymorning practicing away... I'd take a break when Tara came to school... She'd take off her helmut, put her stuff away in her locker then brush out her hair in the hall... Early in the morning so it was usually just her and I...

Her hair was like Leona's but not as long... just to her tailbone...

So, what does it feel like when my fingers approach a woman's beautiful hair? Pure bliss... there are not words to fully capture the experience. In agreement with my brother posting previously "YES" does seem appropriate. There is an immense smile in my heart, a deep breath in my soul, and my mind swims that mindboggling backstroke through Xanadu

I'm frequently thankful that the fetish I've been blessed/annointed/cursed with is something based on an aesthetically pleasing level. I'm so glad that I don't have a scat fetish or water sport fetish, or some infanticidal fetish requiring a woman to change my diapers or something.

I frequently thank god (whomever) that I can every day speak to beautiful women and touch their gorgeous hair...

Consider this... Wouldn't it be great to men that are fixated on a woman's breasts for example if they could walk up to multiple women in a day and say to them... "excuse me (with a smile) you have the most beautiful breasts! They look so soft... May I touch them?" And have her say YES, and enjoy and be honoured by the attention?

Well that's what we do every day! (for those of us that have the guts! And the woman LOVE the attention to their long soft beautiful hair!)

Those are my two cents...

I'm off to bed

Much Love,

Vancouver Guy