Friday, February 16, 2007

Hair and the sensuality of black

A couple of snips from yesterday's tube and train journeys.

I was sitting reading on the train on the way home when my eye was caught by a woman sitting in the next block of seats in front of me. All I could see of her was the top of her head, and her dark blonde, straight long hair. The reason I paused to look was that she had raised her left hand and was twisting a few strands of her hair between her fingers. Seeing this always sends a frisson of sexual excitement through me, and for some reason an association with vulnerability, although I'm sure that this is far from how the woman was feeling. As I watched, she deftly knotted and unknotted her hair, pulling the knot through the strands until it slipped off at the end. It reminded me of a wonderfully erotic scene in the TV series Twin Peaks when Sherilyn Fenn implies her oral skills by tying a cherry stalk into a knot with her tongue as an audition piece for her admission to a brothel.

Earlier in the day I was sitting on the tube and a young couple got on. The guy was unremarkable - large and dressed in sweatshirt and jeans. The girl, however, was petite and dressed in a black and white tweed knee-length coat, with jet-black straight hair, black spectacles and a pale complexion. She was not particularly pretty, but oozed sexual appeal. She had a self-confidence and a way of speaking that fascinated me and led me on to imagine her coupling with me - she was one of those women who makes me wonder what her face would express at the moment of her orgasm.

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