Golden Locks

Odile had the longest, most beautiful hair in the village, and she knew it. She spent hours in the sun in front of her father's butcher shop combing the golden curls that hung almost to her knees, dreaming of the man she would one day marry.

One afternoon, her father sat down beside her, knowing he could put this moment off no longer. "Odile," he said hesitantly, "I've found a husband for you. His name is Galard and he's a wealthy land-owner from the far side of the mountains. He's sending a coach for you tomorrow. You'll drive to his mansion and be married immediately."

Odile was silent for a long time. "Is he handsome?" she asked.

"He's very handsome, very rich and only a few years older than you are. He heard of your beauty and sent an emissary to make all the arrangements." He cleared his throat. "And he wants many children."

Odile thought of all the servants and all the beautiful dresses she would have. And chocolates. She looked at her father's stained apron and smiled. And she'd never have to smell meat again. "What time will the coach be here?"

The following morning, in a whirlwind of activity, Odile left the village. She arrived at the enormous mansion and was whisked into the dimly-lit chapel for a brief marriage ceremony. As she was hustled up to the bedroom, she realized that she had hardly seen her new husband. A serving girl quickly removed her gown and undergarments.

"Such wondrous hair," the girl sighed. As she picked up a comb, Odile sat up and took it from her hands. "No one touches my hair but me," she said, running the teeth of the comb through a long, golden lock. "You may go." Modestly, she pulled her hair forward until it covered her naked breasts.

Moments after the serving girl departed, the bedroom door opened and her new husband walked in. "Magnificent," he said. "When I heard about your luxurious hair I knew I had to have you." He sat down on the edge of the bed and twisted one curl around his fingers.

Odile slapped his hand away. "No one touches my hair but me."

"You're my wife now," Galard said as he stood up and removed his shirt. Odile continued to comb her hair, all the time watching the play of steel-hard muscles beneath his sun-tanned skin. As he pulled off his pants, the comb froze in Odile's curls. His body was white where his breeches hid his skin from the sun and, from a nest of black curls between his thighs, his erection thrust forward, eager for her. As she watched him approach, Odile felt molten heat flow through her bloodstream and settle in a fiery caldron in her belly.

Galard sat on the edge of the bed and lifted a lock of hair. He used the end as a brush to caress her neck and shoulders. "You will love what I can do with this hair," he purred, brushing one erect nipple. He pressed her back onto the pillows and, without touching her in any other way, drew the soft lock of hair across the hollow of her belly. No area of her skin was untouched as Galard slid the silky strands over her body.

Odile's body was on fire as her hair glided across the backs of her knees and the sensitive skin of her thighs. Galard took one long lock from each side of her forehead and brushed the warm strands over his face. Then he pulled one lock down each side of her body, outside her tight breasts and then between her legs. He threaded one lock behind each thigh so that, when he pulled, her breasts were forced together and her pussy-lips were pulled open. He buried his face in the valley of her bosom, licking and kissing her deep cleavage. He kissed a line down her belly and drove his tongue into her naval.

Odile's entire body was trembling as he pulled the hair taut, opening her further so his tongue could lick her most intimate flesh. "Tell me," he whispered as he flicked his tongue across her clit.

"Yes," was all she could say.

He positioned his body above her and, still using her hair to hold her wide open, slid his hard cock into her heat. He released her hair and, ever so slowly, drew the strands from between her legs and across her clit.

"Yes," she said again. "Yes." Lying in a golden pool of her hair, Galard and Odile twisted, bucked and drove until they both climaxed. "Oh, my lord," she gasped. "I never imagined it would be so amazing."

Later, she stretched, catlike, enjoying the feel of Galard's body pressed against her. As she extended her arms above her, Galard wrapped a cord of her hair around her wrists, tying her arms together. "This hair of yours is going to provide many pleasures in the future."

Not moving her deliciously imprisoned wrists, Odile smiled and asked, "Do we have to wait for the future?"

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