Life’s little mysteries

You unbutton your fly and take your cock out.
[Dearest Reader, if you don’t have a cock of your own, I’m afraid you’ll have to humour me and use your imagination. I dare say you could get a better idea of the situation if you were wearing a strap-on, but you may not have one of those either. So failing that, I strongly suggest you borrow a friend’s cock.]
You pull back your foreskin and take aim at the toilet bowl.
You’re about to relax and let the jet of piss flow when you notice something odd.

There’s a sharp indentation diagonally across your bell-end. It’s something that you could have easily missed had you not been wearing your glasses, but it’s definitely there.
Not that it’s particularly troubling. Pretty much everyone has noticed the transient marks clothes can leave across your body, and every woman knows not wear a bra for at least 3hrs prior to wearing a backless dress to ensure all such scars have faded. This line is probably no different. Just the evidence of a seam in your underwear.

Except …?
You adjust your glasses and take another look.
No That’s not the sort of line clothes would make. It’s too well defined for that.
Anyway, your foreskin wasn’t retracted before you arrived in the bathroom, so how could your smalls have left such precise evidence or their presence?

You rub your eyes. Even though you’ve had a shower and breakfast it’s quite still early.
You inspect your dick more closely.

Yep. Definitely a line. As if there’s a thread pulled tight against your purple flesh.
Swapping hands, you hold your tool firmly, just behind its bulbous tip. You lick your thumb and rub gently at the mark.
Obviously this is not the pleasurable rub of masturbation, but one of curiosity. And attempt to investigate, or even dislodge this abnormality.
The line moves.
OK. So it’s definitely not the work of your briefs.

You start to peel the foreign object away from your glans, and realise that, whatever it is, it is wrapped tightly, right around your helmet.
You disentangle it and hold it up to the light.
It seems to be …

It’s clearly a hair.
It’s not yours. That for certain. It’s at least a foot long, and yours is at most a quarter of that.
And there’s no one in the house with hair that long …
… except …
… except your Wife!

And herein lies the greatest mystery.
Your wife hasn’t been near your cock for around 11 months.
How on earth could one of Her hairs end up so intimately contorted around it. Not only was the hair around your dick, but it was under your foreskin.

You rack your brain for how this could possibly have happened, but no matter, you cannot even begin to conceive of circumstance which would lead to this.
Or at least, barely in your dreams.

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