There is a love in the act of care,
In washing her hair, I find a connection rare,
The ritual unfolds, a moment just for us.
The soft swish of water, gentle and warm,
Fingers tracing strands with my careful touch,
A rhythm that soothes as I draw her near.
The smell of the shampoo, sweet in the air,
Lathering softly, every stroke deep and slow,
A sacred connection, the bond that we share.
Each delicate strand held in my steady grip,
Massaging her scalp with purpose and care,
The sensation lingers, a trembling pulse within.
The weight of her head, resting in my palms,
The tender press of my fingertips against skin,
A quiet whisper that stirs something within.
Water flows like a cascade of desire,
Rinsing away the world, leaving only us,
The heat of the moment, thick in the air.
As I comb through her hair, fingers entwined,
The closeness, the heat, our breath held tight,
In the simple act, the tension ignites.
The water cascades, a warm embrace,
I guide each strand, my hands firm and tender,
The lather dissolving, leaving only soft whispers.
My fingers trace her scalp with gentle pressure,
Circling in slow, deliberate motions,
Each touch a quiet command, a silent caress.
As the water rushes over her, I watch it glide,
The silken strands slipping through my fingers,
Rinsing away the suds, the tension, the world.
I feel her body relax, melting under my touch,
The coolness of water mingles with the heat of desire,
Her skin slick and glistening, inviting my hand.
The steady stream of water falls like a lover’s breath,
Fingers comb through her hair, pulling it back with care,
A slow, deliberate rhythm that stirs beneath the surface.
Now, drying her gently, my hands press close,
The towel caressing her skin, the intimacy growing,
I savor the softness, the warmth, the lingering scent.
In this moment of stillness, I find my peace,
The simple act of care, a love that will never cease,
Washing her hair, a sacred bond between us.