I went to a private school through 8th grade, no real long hair there. I was set free in 9th grade...wow, I thought I died and went to heaven. Even better than the seat in front of me, was the seat diagonally ahead of me. Debbie H. had the thickest hair I had ever seen to date and it fell to just above her knees. When sitting, her ponytail would just about touch the floor. She was a 'peanut butter' color brown, with a variety of colors...and to top it off, a smile would literally kill you. We were lab partners a year later. She had a boyfriend, but she knew the power of her hair.

In college, at freshmen orientation, another Debbie (Debbie G.) had a unbrushed look of dark brown hair to the top of her thighs. She had a face full of freckles and pouty lips.

I worked in a supermarket at that time as a cashier and my male boss would let me go through the applications for new hires. I had remembered Christine from high school. She was Italian and an angel face. She was called in for an interview an hired. She was a tiny thing with a killer ass....but she had cut her butt length shiny black hair for that feathered look. But she looked great with that style. We dated for a few months and she had regretted cutting her hair and was growing it back. She was the one who really got me going.... she'd tease the hell out of me with what she had.

Another cashier, Beth, had a thick head of straight, shimmering gold hair down past her hips. She always wore it in a ponytail and it was always in motion. Sadly, she cut it to go into the Air Force. I wish I hadn't seen the cut, I still have fantasies about her.

Anne Marie, one year behind me in high school but was taking an accelerated math class... she was kinda chunky, porcelain white skin, and the blackest thick hair I had ever seen. She wore bangs and had her hair held back with a headband. She sat behind me in that class, which was a good thing for my average. I always waited for her to leave the class first... her hair would cover her the back of her ass.

I met my wife in a bar. She had shoulder length black hair. She is part Italian, part Syrian. I later learned that she had cut her hair the week before we met. I could have cried when I saw a yearbook photo. She was wearing a jean jacket leaning up against a brick wall, with one foot pressed against the wall. You could see hair still hanging below that bent knee.

I heard all the "but you fell in love with me with short hair" excuses, but she finally let her hair grow out. It was to her waist when we had our first child...but she then decided to get one of those curly perms. I was pissed, but held my tongue.

Over the years, she has lightened it to a dark auburn color. She's 49 now, and I trim it to classic length every 6 months. It's a length she can tolerate and one where she can really work it.

I can only advise you guys to treat the lady in your life like a queen. If she'll let you brush her hair, wash it in the shower, then she'll reward you with the greatest sexual pleasure. All I have to do to get things started is to lift up her hair from the back and kiss the back of her neck.

...and don't be selfish, if you want your longhaired lady to wrap that hair around you... you better take care of her first. Can the ladies give me an 'Amen' on that one??