He sat on the bus behind her, unable to take his eyes off her. It wasn't that she was beautiful, though of course she was. He'd seen plenty of beautiful women. Her body was magnificent, toned in all the right places and round and soft right where she should be. He'd be inclined to call her sexy, dressed in a snug but not scandalous outfit of yoga pants and a t-shirt, but something about her young and innocent face made "cute" seem the better adjective. The thing that struck him about her, though, was her hair. It was nothing short of astounding. The color was red, vibrant and brilliant in a way that at once didn't seem natural and yet couldn't have come from a bottle. As the sun poured through the window and hit her luxurious tresses, the hue seemed to shift. Sometimes it looked almost golden, other times rich and auburn.

Even if the quality hadn't been worthy of note though, the quantity would have been. It was perfectly straight and pulled up into a pony tail that arced up off her head and back down again, much like the actual tail of a pony, bulging back out into an almost shoulder-width mass of hair. If not for that upward arc, the ends of her hair would have dragged the ground. As it was, the ends danced to and fro when she walked, constantly threatening to drag behind her but never quite doing so. She'd boarded the bus and cheerfully paid her fare, then stepped up and planted herself in the seat, artfully flipping her head to drape the hair into the seat beside her. Even thus situated, the sheer volume of hair meant that it bunched up behind her and flopped a bit over the back of the seat.

He tried to ignore it, but it was literally bouncing in his face with every subtle motion of the bus. And the smell... the SMELL. He didn't know what sort of shampoo she used, but he resolved to sample every bottle of hair care product he could find until he found it, if only to be able to sniff it each morning. It was fruity and fresh, yet with something seductive and alluring beneath it.

For a few stops she shifted uncomfortably, then finally ran her hands up along her neck and flipped them back, sending the massive pony tail up with alarming ease and letting it hang down behind her chair like a curtain and right into his lap. He held his breath, wondering for a moment if he should tell her... but no. Not yet. This was probably the only chance he would get to feel those silky locks, and he would milk it for every moment he could.

The hair that dropped down into his lap curled there like a sleepy cat, so voluminous he could actually feel its weight. It was cuddly, too, like a heavy blanket still warm from the body of the last one to use it. Tentatively, he raised his hand to his lap and subtly rested it on the hair draped across him, stroking it gently and reveling in satiny texture.

They hit a bump and a coil of the hair slipped, tumbling from his lap. He reflexively reached to gather it, horrified at the thought of such perfect hair touching the dirty floor of the bus. Instead of hitting the floor though, he felt it swing with the continued motion of the bus and wrap around his leg. When he leaned forward to try to gently tug it free he upset another coil, which fell along the other leg and became similarly entangled.

He laughed nervously, realizing this was getting out of hand.

"Uh... Miss? I'm sorry but, your hair is sort of... everywhere," he said, tapping her on the shoulder.

"Mmm?" she said, turning to him and glancing down at what had happened. "Oh." She giggled. "I guess it likes you. Don't worry about it."

She turned back, leaving him more than a bit confused. He decided it was as close as he was going to get to being given permission to deal with the situation himself, so he leaned forward to tug the tresses entangling his legs free. More of her hair spilled from her lap, this time wrapping around his arms. He straightened up again, pausing to free them before trying his legs again, but somehow the strands from one arm slipped free and wrapped around the other arm as he was doing so, tangling them together.

It was about this time that he realized his shirt must have been riding up from all the fidgeting, because he could feel some of the hair brushing across his belly and sliding along his skin. It took him a moment to process it, but the silken strands were beginning to slide up under his shirt... and down into his pants.

"Whoa!" he said, squirming in his seat as he felt the first loops of hair work their way into his underwear, lightly tangling around his slowly stiffening manhood.

He almost laughed at the sensation of more of her hair sliding up around his chest, worming its way up his shirt and beginning to tickle his neck.

"I don't know what's going on but..."

"I already said," she said, turning to him again and grinning. "... It likes you."

She turned away again and shook her head, causing a cascade of motion in her hair that sped its progress. It entirely wrapped his legs now, and had begun to squeeze his arms together. The hair at the base of his neck began to slide under his chin and up along his cheeks. The bands of hair pulled tight, forcing his mouth shut, then slid forward, hiding his face.

~~~

Strangely, perhaps supernaturally, no one on the bus seemed to be paying attention, but if they had, they would have seen a man slowly and steadily cocooned in the radiant hair of the woman in the seat in front of him. When not an inch of flesh or scrap of clothing was visible, the tight coils began to relax. The man-shape within the hair began to soften and sag. Bulges eased down into smooth, tangle-free pools of hair resting on the seat where he had been. After a few moments, there was no sign of the man. There was simply a woman who had allowed her remarkable head of hair to hang down and rest on the seat behind her.

~~~

The man struggled lightly, and soon found his hands and arms pulling free of their bindings. They slid freely through the long, smooth tresses of hair, but no matter how he reached or stretched, he could not find the end of them. There was simply more hair, like he'd been immersed in an ocean of the stuff. Every breath was thick with the scent he'd found so alluring. It was at once arousing and calming, making him feel safe and at ease. When he stopped trying to squirm or crawl his way to safety, the hair seemed to twist a bit tighter around his whole body. Not binding him as before, but hugging him. Caressing him. It felt... nice. Like it was alive... Like it wanted him...

He could vaguely feel his warm, womb-like new surroundings bounce and sway with the rhythm of walking. She was getting off the bus.

~~~

She stood and gathered her hair a bit more tightly into its pony tail, then flipped her head to swing her hair back in front of her. The already massive, thick tresses were visibly more so. Not large enough to account for or explain the entirety of the man who had been sitting behind her, but enough to suggest that SOMETHING had happened. Still, there wasn't a squirming bulge. No bump atop her head where he might have been hidden. He was just gone. And yet...

"Where... where am I?" he asked, his voice low and audible only to her.

"Oh, you're in there somewhere. This stuff has a mind of its own. You're going to be in there a while. I'll probably be able to comb you out once I get home."

"Probably?" he said.

"Yeah. Probably."

"What if you can't?"

"Then it keeps you, silly!"

"It isn't... It isn't going to EAT me, is it?"

"It kind of already did. But it probably won't digest you. It's been AGES since it did that to anyone. Now hush. I've got a busy day. Don't make me braid you…”