The bathroom was warm, the mirror fogged with anticipation. Nicoletta stood before it, a woman with generous curves and even more generous hair. A thick, dark mane flowed down her pubic hair, curling gently at her waist. Her legs, strong and sturdy, were covered in soft down that caught the light.<br>She began her ritual, unbuttoning her blouse with deliberate slowness. She looked at her reflection, not with self-criticism, but with quiet appreciation. This was her body, her temple. Her hair, often a source of shame for women, was for Nicoletta a source of pride, a symbol of her untamed nature.<br>Taking a comb, she began to untangle her hair, the rhythmic strokes calming her mind. She hummed a tuneless tune, her voice low and hoarse. The scent of lavender filled the air as she gathered her hair atop her head, securing it with a clip.<br>Then she turned her attention to the shower. The water hissed as it poured from the showerhead, quickly turning to steam that clung to the tiles. Nico

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