Growing a Beard Again

All characters engaged in sex are older than 18 years. Quite older, in fact.

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My second marriage did not end with a bang, but with a whimper. After several years of suffering my wife's unconscious gaslighting, it was time to move on.

As a husband, I always tried to maintain a respectful distance of my female friends. My wife never required it from me, I just thought that it was the proper thing to do. One of my newly learned lessons: I will not do this again. I am quite fortunate in having great friends, both male and female, and I know that I am a better man because of them.

This was not a rebound. I was not interested in going back to the dating game yet. As far as I knew (and I rarely asked), several of my friends were happy with their significant others, or had given up entirely on the whole relationship deal.

But I was always a flirt. My ex-wife did not appreciate it, and I was delighted to once again engage in playful, light flirting with my friends. Raine was one of my preferred targets.

I had first met Raine when she was 15. She transferred to our school, and I was smitten. I was already quite interested in girls; Raine had a beautiful smile, luminous blue eyes, and was always very friendly. Don't ask me whether she had large or small breasts, or any other body characteristic. I knew she had a beautiful body, but I could never take my eyes off her eyes or off her smile when she was nearby.

Teenager shyness never allowed me to take a step towards her, and our lives drifted apart after school. Years later, I found out that we were both working at the same government office, and we met a few times there. But I was married, and I did not try to further our relationship.

After my first divorce, I rather awkwardly tried to date her, to no avail. She was sweet as always, but she also let me know that she was not interested. We kept in touch afterwards, even after I moved to another city. We even met a few times, when I went back to meet my children.

In the past few years, we connected through a few social networks. Raine loves to post selfies and other photos, and I love to see her. Her eyes and smile are still quite captivating, and she is still a very beautiful woman. She does not seem to mind my flirting remarks about her photos. Sometimes I send her one of my photos.

Some time ago, I found an old photo, requested by a friend. It was taken during a brief period in which I wore a beard, several years ago. My daughter was born at this time, and I used to brush her feet with my beard, tickling her and making her laugh. I sent Raine a copy of the photo, together with this titbit of family history. I was quite surprised when she replied "I like it! You were quite the charmer with this beard." I teased her a bit, saying that this endorsement was almost enough for me to grow my beard back, and we dropped the subject.

Now, after my second divorce, I had moved again, to a new city and a new university. I managed to rent a flat at the beach front, and walking alongside the beach has become a favourite pastime. My friends have standing invitations to come over, but so far no one had come.

Up until last month, that is. Raine texted me, saying that she would be coming to my city during her vacation, and that she would love to see me. Of course I leaped at the prospect, and she sent me her travel schedule.

Well... this seemed to be the perfect opportunity to grow a beard again.

* * *

Raine called me the day she arrived, and she accepted my invitation to walk a bit on the beachside, and go to a café afterwards. I arrived at her hotel a few minutes early. When she came down from her room, I went to greet her, and I noticed a slight bemused look on her face when she saw my beard. I lightly kissed the tips of her fingers, never taking my eyes from her lovely blue eyes... but I could see that she was as beautiful as ever.

There were a few tumbling steps on the beach walk, and I always held my hand to steady her. After one of these steps, we held hands for a few minutes, walking and talking. Raine was as delightful as ever, and we were quite happy to get each other up to date on our respective lives.

We sat at the café, under the awning, enjoying the sea breeze. We sipped one coffee each, but I was drinking in her smile and her eyes. And then, she brought her hand to my beard, lightly touching it with her fingers, and asked softly "Why did you let it grow again?".

"Because you said you liked it." She blushed a little.

"That's what I thought. You were always a charmer, but this beard becomes you."

I took her hand and kissed her fingertips. She closed her eyes, and slightly opened her mouth when I brushed her fingers on my beard again.

The kiss was all that I had ever imagined, and much more. I had waited years for that kiss... and now it was its moment, the perfect moment.

I don't remember leaving the café, or even walking over to my flat. But I distinctly remember what happened after I closed and locked the door. She put her arms around my neck, and proceeded to show me that the perfect kiss from the café had been just a warm-up.

I held her and kissed back. She then pulled my head to the side of her head, and breathed in my ear that she could feel my cock. I put my hands on her butt and pulled her to me, while brushing my beard on her ear. I felt her tense a bit when I did that, especially when it was my turn to breath on her ear.

Even after all these years, I was in no hurry. I was enjoying each minute. We took each other's clothes off, until I felt her smooth skin, shivering a bit in my arms. I took her hand, just as I had done in the beach walk, and guided her to lie on my bed, with her legs to the side, and her head on a pillow.

I kneeled on the floor, between her legs, watching her tits heave, the nipples quite hard. Her womanly, clean scent was heady, and I was anxious to savour her... but, first, I brushed my beard on her.

Blessed beard! She left out a small moan, and pulled my head against her pussy. I dived on her with my tongue and lips, and kept licking, sucking and brushing for a long time. I have no idea how many times she came, or even if she did come; but it was obvious that she was enjoying herself.

Once, when I came up for air, she held my head in her hands, pulled me over her, and kissed me, hard. Then she pulled my lips over her tit, grasped my cock and put it against her pussy.

I did not enter her yet. Rather, I put the head of my cock between her labia, teasing, and held up her ankles.

Then I started tickling the soles of her feet against my beard.

She was startled at first, but soon she was giggling, and moving her dainty feet over my beard, while I caressed her calves. I was drinking in her perfect smile when I entered her. She shuddered, eyes closed and mouth open, gasping, but she did not stop brushing her feet on my beard.

I would like to say that I took my time, but at that point I was frantic with years of pent-up desire for her. Soon we were both moaning, and when she screamed I came inside her. My arms could not support me any more, but I managed to not crush her when I kissed her, before rolling to the side.

It was a while before we regained our breaths. Raine put her leg over mine, her arm over my chest, and rested her face against my beard. I could feel her nipples against me.

I think I'll let this beard on for now.