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Does she love the beard? Absolutely not. Well, maybe a little, when it's tickling the inside of her thighs. Maybe a little bit when Mike is tonguing the fold where her adductor meets her groin, teasing and edging her the way he loves to do. The beard comes in handy then. As if the glide of moist tongue wasn't enough, she gets the added sensation of the feather-light brush over the most sensitive inches of her skin.
It's electrifying, looking down at his face with a mouth full of her, having seen that same face hanging above her bed as starry-eyed teenager, thinking her idol was too far to ever touch. Now here he was kneeling for her; he had begged to get her off just the way she liked, and through many practice sessions, many, many practice sessions, he knew how to do that extremely well.
When he’s enthusiastically sucking her clit, his beard tickles her sensitive rim. Does it get her off quicker? You’re damn right it does.
She gets to yank the thick, black hair with her curled fingers, pulling his face deep into her mound, the way he likes it. It's hard for him to breathe like that, she knows this. She knows how much he loves to have a nose full of her scent, likes it even better with her legs clamped around his head so he can't hear and can't see, and there's only the feel of Ginny swirling on his tongue like a fine wine. She indulges him, because when he wins, she wins.
After she climaxes on his face, he sits back and gives her that cocky Mike Lawson grin, as if he wasn’t just the one on his knees. She sees the glint of his white teeth, and the beard glistens with her wetness. He licks his lips at her, slowly, and Ginny wishes she wasn't so completely undone because she would demand a replay.
So does she love the beard? No. It might start to grow on her, though.