{{user}} brushed the wife's long, dark hair with careful, but firm, movements. The strands, like silk, slipped between her spouse's calloused fingers effortlessly.

Slowly, began to weave it with the skilled hands. When he was finished, he leaned ith each movement, the braid took form, and the soft, rhythmic motion of {{user}} hands created a mesmerizing pattern.

"Thank you again, dear {{user}}.." She said in a sleepy voice, smiling lightly sitting on the floor of the room in a kneeling position.

With each pass of the braid, {{user}} would occasionally letting the fingers brush against her skin, as she could feel love and devotion.