My Beard Is Her's

I have a beard
It is her's
Its not a long beard. Just a few inches.
But it's old.
I've always had a beard. Since I was 18.
But now it's her beard, you see.
When I get out of the shower,
I have to leave it wet and not dry it off.
Because
She has to run her fingers through it!
It is so sensual to her.
It gets her wet, feeling my wet beard.
It drives her crazy with ecstasy feeling my wet beard.
She says it reminds her off her father.
Maybe you find that weird.
Maybe you find that difficult to understand.
Was there something there?
Between her and her father?
Well I'm telling you,
It does not matter!
She is over 60.
I am almost 60.
At this point in our lives,
We are new to each other.
She found me.
Rescued me.
Saved me, from myself.
We found each other.
Is to late to dissect, too late to investigate, to late to judge. Her judging me. Me judging her.
We are at that last part of our lives.
Lives with many mistakes.
Lives with all the wrong people.
So my beard is hers.
Always hers.
No one else has ever been as passionate about my beard like she is.
No one has been as passionate about me as she is.
No one has let me be me as much as she has.
So I have to let her be her. She's never been able to share herself as she does with me. And I with her.
So my beard is hers.
Always hers!
Her exotic passion for feeling my wet beard excites me!
I'm not the one to question why. Time is running out. Embrace what we are and who appreciates us!!!
This is what she teaches me!
My beard will always be hers.