After having a pixie haircut for some years, I started to let my hair grow long again two years ago. It’s starting to come along nicely, flowing over my shoulders and back already.

Now I can’t stop imagining having gone to some fancy restaurant or ball or whatever with Haytham Kenway. My hair would’ve been up in some fancy up-do of some kind.

When we’d returned home, I’d be taking off my make-up and jewellery. Haytham would come up behind me and start to get the pins and bands out of my hair, letting it flow down my back, whilst kissing up and down my neck. He would look me in the eyes through the mirror with those steely grey eyes and that predatory look in them.

He’d then take me to bed and strip me naked. He’d pull me down by my hair to make me kneel next to the bed and make me suck him off. He’d stop before he could finish, ever the gentleman, and ensure my pleasure first by playing me perfectly with those long, dexterous fingers and that marvellous tongue.

When still coming down from my high, he’d slowly enter me, looking me straight in the eyes. He would start slow and gentle, but eventually start to go harder and faster, chasing his own pleasure.

Afterwards, he’d hold me close, gently stroking through my hair and massaging my scalp. Kissing me softly, he’d tell me how much he loves me. Then he would tell me all the things he would be doing to me for the remainder of the night.