Branch grows a beard and Poppy has freaky fantasies that come true.
Branch usually kept his face clean-shaven every day, and it suited him. But when he decided to grow his beard just to see how it look on him, it was a daily test for Poppy to not attack him like she were a predator and he was the prey. When it finally reached a respectable appearance and length, Poppy couldn’t help but run her hands over it and her fingers through it. The beard was a black color despite his fawn-colored hair, but Poppy found it incredibly endearing. She also found it incredibly sexy. It wasn’t too long, and Branch kept it trimmed into a neat style. Sometimes, Poppy would often daydream about how it’d feel against the skin of her thighs. It had been a while since Branch had gone down on her, which she didn’t mind. Nowadays, they both don’t have much time for intimacy, but when they do, it’s immediately down to business.
One morning, Branch is getting out of the shower, and Poppy's lounging on the bed. Poppy had already taken her shower, so she was busy flipping through a book she's been reading. Poppy watched as her husband prepares to shave his neck where the stubble has grown noticeable. Getting up from the bed, The pop queen walked to the bathroom, where Branch stands at the sink. Watching as he delicately shaves himself, Poppy wrapping her arms around his torso, careful not to undo the towel around Branch's waist.
“Time for a little maintenance, hmm?” Poppy rested her head on his shoulder, watching his movements through the mirror.
“Yep,” Branch says to his wife, leaning his head up to get underneath his chin.
“I think it looks sexy on you,” Poppy runs her hands along Branch's stomach and chest, feeling him vibrate as he chuckles.
“I know you do,” Branch glances at Poppy in the reflection of the mirror, “You can’t keep your hands out of it.”
Poppy combs her fingers through his damp hair, “So what? I can’t admire my handsome husband?”
Branch laughs through his nose, finishing shaving. The teal blue troll shakes his head as he rinses off the razor in the sink filled with water, “Didn’t say that, baby.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I can tell by how you look at me that you love it,” Branch smirks.
“Is that so?” Poppy hummed, “You won’t do anything about it.” The Pop Queen pulls away from her husband and teasingly crossed her arms.
Branch drains the sink, resting his weight on his hands on either side of it, “Get on the bed.”
“What?” Poppy blinked in confusion.
“I said for you to get on the bed, sweetheart. Don’t make me repeat myself,” Branch says, a playful warning look on his face.
Poppy immediately does as she's told, jumping onto the bed and laying against the pillows, legs crossed over one another and her hands intertwined across herr stomach. Poppy patiently waits for Branch to come to the bed, watching him drop his towel before stepping into a pair of underwear. For a moment, Poppy wished he’d just drop the towel and leave it at that.
Branch climbs onto the bed, crawling over to Poppy and sitting beside her legs. Branch places his hands on Poppy's thighs, running his palms up and down her soft pink skin there before pushing them apart. Branch immediately pulls down her lounge shorts, revealing this morning’s choice of underwear. A lacy pair of black ones that leave only a little to the imagination. Branch traces the patterns in the lace on her mound, avoiding touching Poppy directly. Her hand reaches down and lovingly pets Branch's hair as his soft blue eyes meeting hers. Branch sneaks his fingers underneath the lace and pulls them down her legs, discarding them as Branch repositions himself back between them.
