Come here teddy bear .3

Seven minutes later, she pulls into her driveway but doesn’t immediately get out.
Instead, she looks at me.
“You still wanna come up?”
I raise an eyebrow.
“You sure you want this big teddy bear in your house?”
She laughs softly.
“I’ve been thinking about that beard all night.”
That gets my attention.
We walk inside, and the playful energy from the car follows us through the door. She turns toward me, reaches up, and runs her fingers through my beard.
“I told you,” she whispers. “I love this.”
I smile.
“And what else did you say you liked?”
She bites her lip, then steps closer.
“Maybe you should come a little closer and let me show you.”
I do.
She wraps her arms around me, and for a moment neither of us says anything. Just that nervous little smile between us, the kind that says the conversation has officially moved past flirting.
Then she pulls me toward the couch.
“Come here, teddy bear.”
I sit beside her.
She leans against me, fingers still playing with my beard, and whispers,
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to find out if you’re as cuddly as you look.”
I grin.
“Guess you’re about to find out.”
She laughs, settles against my chest, and kisses me.
The teasing turns into something warmer, slower.
And somewhere between her hands in my beard and the way she keeps pulling me closer, we both realize those seven minutes home were just the beginning of her pussy sitting on my beard