Your beard wetter

You notice her thick thighs first, the kind that demand your full attention before anything else registers.

You feel the pull immediately — that PAWG curve arching away from you, soft and heavy and impossible to ignore. You want your hands on it before your brain catches up with the thought. You lean closer, breath already unsteady.

You know exactly how this ends: your beard wetter than you planned, your mouth tracing every fold and swell until your jaw aches. You lose track of time down there. You come up only when forced to breathe.