It wasn’t that she’d never seen him with a beard before. It was more so that Jim just generally kept a clean slate. Part of his morning routine was to make sure that he looked presentable for his clients. She’d always loved the smoothness of his face, whether it was between her fingers when she cupped his cheeks for a good morning kiss, or between her thighs as he nuzzled them apart and made her come into next week.

Never mind that their sink was covered in fine, dark hairs each morning. She knew that Jim was a slob when she married him. He said it was all part of the charm. She begged to differ.

As she hung up their most recent FaceTime call, she chuckled lightly, reminiscing on the past 5 days of video chats, and the way that his facial hair had progressed. Although they’d been married for almost eight years, she’d only ever experienced the occasional five o’clock shadow rubbing against her cheeks on a Saturday morning, or late on a Sunday night after a weekend too packed with activities for him to care about shaving.

On Monday morning when she’d left him, he’d been clean-shaven. Tuesday, hints of dark brown peaked an outlined form around his jaw. On Wednesday, Phillip had said that daddy reminded him of Fozzy Bear. On Thursday, Cece had called him a hobo. Today, though, the fullness of his beard made him look rugged, husky, manly. And it wasn’t just the appearance that pooled heat in her belly while she sat alone in her hotel room, five days without his touch. It was the way he also let his hair go a little unkempt, let his voice form chalky words in low, gravelly tones.

She missed her husband in so many ways.

That night, as she lay awake in the Dallas hotel room, her fingers slipped underneath her waistband to images of her husband in flannel.

----

He really did miss his wife.

But playing Mr. Mom for a few days was the least he could do if it meant letting her live out her dreams. She’d been offered the chance to show her art in Dallas for the week, take a few classes, attend a few seminars, all because she had taken a chance and entered one of her pieces in a contest. When she’d thrown herself into his arms last month with the news that she had won, he hadn’t even thought twice about taking a week off to be at home for his kids. And besides, his job pulled him away from his family for more often than he cared for, and she was so, so good to him, holding down the fort while he played with famous athletes all day. She deserved this.

And she would be home tomorrow night.

“Forgoing the personal hygiene for the week, babe?” she had chuckled tonight after dinner during their family FaceTime chat.

He stroked at the hair so newly familiar to him. He’d always kept a clean shaven face, either for sports in high school and college, or for his job, or because his brothers made fun of his “peach fuzz.” He truly had no idea what it would look like if he attempted to grow a beard, but according to his wife’s teasing, he was apparently “ruggedly handsome.” And all because he just felt like being lazy.

Who would’ve thought?

“Mama! Daddy has more hair on his face than Grandpa Beesly has on his whole head!” Phillip jarred, his body completely sideways on her computer screen as she imagined him stretching his body across their kitchen table to be in the frame.

“I see that,” she giggled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have it all cleaned up by the time you get home.”

He was gesturing in the background at the mess that had amassed, and she had to wonder if the dishes in the sink were from tonight, or from Tuesday’s breakfast.

His wavering hand came to rest on the hair that had just recently surpassed his chin, and he stroked it a few times as if deep in thought. As his large fingers ran over his beard, she was brought back to the images that she conjured late last night, of those fingers inside of her, coaxing her, pleasing her, all while that beard hovered above her, the face behind it telling her that she would make him an honest man.

As if persuaded by the pressure between her thighs, she whispered the words, “Leave it,” her children too distracted by the toys on the table to notice how the timbre of her voice had shifted from motherly to lustful.

“Why? Do you want to feel how scraggly I get when I decide to check out for the week?” he chuckled, rubbing his cheeks simultaneously.

“Not quite.”

Jim glanced from Cece to Phillip and back to his wife, miles away in Dallas. The grin on her face was one she typically didn’t emit when they had children in the room; it was more reserved for when she was writing beneath him, straddled on top of him, burying her face in his neck as his body made her shudder deliciously. With chin settled on prayer clasped hands, he cocked an eyebrow. She could only wink, the wideness of her toothy smile making the crotch of his pants just a little too tight.

“Bye, babies! Mommy can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

Just like that, her tone flipped on a dime, bringing his head and his dick back to reality.

And after a few more goodbyes, blown kisses, and promises of bedtime snuggles tomorrow, she was gone, the connection severed, his children bounding up the stairs for teeth and pajamas and the thousandth rendition of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Standing, he closed the lid to his laptop, slugged back the glass of water that still sat in front of him from dinner, and followed the sounds of his chattering children. His cell phone vibrating in his pocket stopped him just short of the first stair. The words on the screen shot straight to his cock.

Text Message from Beesly: I want to know how it feels between my legs.

-------

Pam had all but opened up the front door with her suitcase in tow when her children were latching themselves around her legs, Mommy!’s abundantly echoing off their vaulted ceilings.

“Oh, I missed you!” She was hugging one child in each arm, luggage dropped in favor of embracing her children.

As they each rattled off details of the week that she had missed at a million miles a minute, she saw her husband slowly approaching, his smug smile still present even underneath that mess of hair.

“Welcome home.”

He had the rugged exterior and the voice to match. There was no way she was going to make it to dinner.

“What did you guys do with daddy while I was gone? Did you replace him with a lumberjack?!” Both children giggled, a sound she had missed all those nights in Dallas. Spending time alone with her art was a dream come true, but right here, in the middle of giggles and cuddles and silly grins was where she wanted to be the most.

Luckily for Pam, her arrival home coincided nicely with bedtime, and Phillip and Cece were all but dragging her up the stairs for stories and cuddles. Once kisses were dealt and both Halpert children were tucked in and sleeping soundly, she felt her husband tugging on her wrist in the middle of the hallway.

“Hi,” he said simply, his tone deep and rich.

“Hi yourself,” she replied, echoing the sultry sound of his words.

His hands rested on her hips, urging her to close the space between their bodies.

“This is new.” Her fingers reached between them and traced along his jaw feather light, curling against the structure of his cheeks. Her voice, so soft, yet thick and inviting, embodied the way her eyes had subsequently gone large and dark.

"I think it's about high time you found out what it it feels like with you shuddering against it."

Snaking his arms around her lower back, he pulled her to his chest forcefully, wasting no time with gentle hello’s as his lips crashed hard against hers, his tongue immediately plundering past her willing lips and swallowing her moans. Her hands darted immediately to the hair on his head, pulling him down with a matching fury, before her fingers trailed to the new hair along his cheeks. As his tongue massaged hers, she tugged gently on his beard, and his groan of approval left her wanting more.

The contrast in sensations was almost overwhelming; the way he sucked and bit at her lower lip caused a masochism of pleasure, while the softness of the hair on his face caressed her cheeks, her nose, her chin, sending ripples up and down her spine.

Then conversely, It was the rough downpull of his beard, now scratching the skin on her neck, while his teeth scraped gently across the juncture under her ear, the pulsing hum of his lips as they suckled her skin causing the sexiest of purrs to escape her throat.

It was utter euphoria as he traced the tendon in her neck with his tongue, her head whipping back when he twisted her against the wall to get a better angle, tenderness in the way his beard tickled back and forth in her ear. His knee pushed between her legs, spreading them apart as he nudged upwards into her center, finding her already hot.

He steadied her hips with his free hand, helping her find a rhythm against his knee, her wetness evident against him. She arched into his touch as his fingers found her awaiting breasts, letting the tiniest of whimpered Oh’s caress his ear. Finally pulling her shirt over her head, he lost it to the hallway floor and pulled the cups of her bra past her breasts. His lips were immediately on her, the contrasting cool of the air against her skin and the hotness of his breath paralleled with the sucking and biting at her peaked nipple, divergent still of of his beard alternatingly rough and gentle with each forward and backward pass. When he snaked his tongue to flick at her hardened nipple, sneaking a gentle bite of the sensitive nub, her hips involuntarily convulsed.

“Fuck, Jim.”

Suddenly, his arms were hooking under her knees, carrying her to their bed. She was barely lying back against the pillows before he was stripped down to his boxers and chucking his shirt behind his head, which only mussed his hair even more and tugged the hair in his beard out of place. She could see his erection clear and throbbing against his briefs. Hovering above her on his knees, he looked like a rugged mountain man ready to stake his claim on her body. She all but came in her panties.

He hooked his fingers on either side of her jeans, tugging them down quickly before discarding them on the floor. With a grin that was equal parts hunger, danger, and desire, he dropped between her legs, and muttered, “How’s that feel, baby?” as he rubbed his bearded cheek against the apex of her thigh, slowly, lazily, his hot breath teasing her core. She failed miserably to bite back the moan in her throat, grinding her hips forward aimlessly as he teased her, rough and smooth transitions all along her thighs. Then, without warning, it was lips on skin, wet trails of his tongue up the inside of one leg, then the other, sucking and nipping and worshipping her. There was no plausible time between the sensation of cool air where hot lips had just left their mark, and the soft brush of chocolate hair against the cream of her body. It was almost too much.

She was squeezing her thighs together lightly, just enough to let him know that she’d been waiting long enough. When her fingers laced in his hair, tugging insistently, he smiled against her inner thigh, sucking the skin there once more before nuzzling against her hot center, causing her to yelp and sigh and buck off the mattress into his touch. He outlined her soaking panties with the hard tip of his tongue, teasing just outside her folds. Her moans were becoming more insistent now, her hips rolling forward in begged frustration.

“Please, baby, I need....” she panted.

“What do you need?” his voice was all gravel and rough, matching his exterior.

“You. Mouth. On me.”

It was breathy and hot, and with her eyes closed and her hands in his hair and her curls spread wild among the pillows, it was a miracle he didn’t come in his jeans.

Her panties were gone as quickly as they had been there, and no sooner was he licking up the length of her than she was bucking wantonly against him. He loved her taste, loved the way she lost herself when he went down on her. He smiled against her entrance as he teased his tongue inside just briefly, gently, before pulling out again and quickly plunging deep inside of her, lapping up the her musky taste.

He was driving her mad, alternating between being inside of her with his tongue and then lightly teasing her bundle of nerves, never staying in one place for too long. And all the while, his beard was nuzzling everywhere his tongue wasn’t. He was scratching against the insides of her thighs, brushing her folds, massaging the length of her as his tongue more forcefully drove her to the edge. Suddenly, he was tugging her clit between his lips and sucking, thrusting two fingers inside of her, and crooking just high enough to make her toes curl.

“Shit, baby, that's so good,” was all she could fathom, massaging her fingers against the top of his head. He hooked his free arm around her to pull her closer, changing his pace to quick, short strokes of his tongue against her clit as he felt her pulsing around his fingers.

“Mmm, more.”

She squeezed her thighs together, the friction of his beard rubbing roughly against her while his tongue flicked back and forth against her clit and his fingers worked deftly inside her making her eyes roll back in her head. It was the perfect mixture of rough pleasure. She pressed herself closer to him, craving more.

He could feel her pulsing around his fingers, could feel the wetness in his mouth increasing as her thighs pulsed lightly around his ears. With one long hum against her clit, he felt her pour into him, shuddering around his fingers as her hips jumped off the bed twice, trapping him against her sex. He didn’t care. He loved her taste. He lapped at her with slow, gentle strokes, moving his fingers out of her to steady her abdomen as she came down from her high. But as he placed his last kisses to her pulsing center, she suddenly hauled him onto his back, straddling him before he could make sense of his surroundings.

She was dripping against his briefs, the evidence of his handiwork making his cock throb even more as she ground her sex against him. She lay flat to his chest, her nipples hard against him as her lips sought his, wet and sloppy and greedily attacking. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, biting and groaning when his hands cupped her ass and made her thrusts against him closer, harder, more insistent.

“Inside me, now,” she breathed into his mouth, fingers already diving below his waistband as she tore down his briefs and held him hard and heavy in her hand. It didn’t take more than a few quick thrusts with her tiny fist before he was nudging her hand away and helping her ease her petite body onto his waiting cock. A mewl trickled from her throat as she balanced her hands on his chest, tossing her head back like she was intoxicated by the feeling of him inside her.

“Fuck, Pam,” he growled, feeling her wetness surround him, so tight and hot and ready.

Slowly, she rose above him, finding an easy rhythm of shallow thrusts while grinding at the base of him. His hands steadied on her hips, lifting her gently when it seemed as though she were about to collapse. He traced his hands along her sides, grabbing her breasts and pinching her nipples. Seeing her begin to struggle, he sat up so that they were both vertical with her in his lap, and lifted her legs around his body while he was still inside her, hugging her around the back. Her legs latched around him, and he quickly returned to setting a pace, thrusting up into her with his forehead resting against hers.

His thumbs caressed her cheeks before his lips found hers again, his kisses tender this time, his tongue coaxing, matching the thrusts he was making inside of her. He could feel a tightness in his balls, could feel her tight and pulsing around his dick. He dropped his hand between them, finding her still sensitive but eager, and began to move his fingers over her once more.

“Oh,” she moaned, her fingernails digging into his back as she buried her head in his neck, pushing them closer together.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered, his breath husky in her ear. “Come again, come for me.”

His fingers quickened their pace, as the insistence in his own member told him he wasn’t going to make it much longer. As soon as he felt her beginning to quake around him, those squeals and squeaks escaping her, his thrusts became erratic, and his own orgasm ripped throughout his body, spilling into her as her walls continued to massage him.

With labored breath, he gently lay her back, kissing her forehead before pulling out of her and spooning her, his arms squeezing her tightly.

“God I missed you,” he whispered, placing kisses to her hair, her neck, her cheek.

“Me too,” she breathed back, nuzzling her body against him as far as she could go.

She could feel his breathing becoming slow, but the grip around her remained. It was this comfort, this security that she had missed the most while she was away. Wrapped up in her husband’s arms, she relaxed into the best sleep she’d had all week.

When she awoke in the middle of the night, she let her fingers find the heat between her legs, tracing over the ridges on the inside of her thighs, the slight burn made her hot and cold all over.

And as she reached behind her to find her husband already hot and heavy against her back, she grinned.

The beard was most definitely staying.