Birthday Cake

All I want for my birthday, is a fat load of your cum to ice my face like a cake. 

I want it to slither down my cheek, cooling as it reaches the corner of my lips, so I can reach out the tip of my tongue and invite it into my mouth. 

I want it to shoot from your dick and hit my forehead with the force of a tropical storm and splash into my hair, whitening my roots. 

I want it to shock my mouth by squirting right into it as I tease your clit with the flat of my tongue. 

I want it to lazily ooze from the head of your cock as you smear it around my lips when you’re done with me. 

I want it to spill out of my choking throat, down my neck, and trickle between my tits, for you to lick out later on. 

I want it to gently meld with the cum of your friends on my chin, so that I don’t know which shimmering pool is whose. 

I want it to be forced over my ear and cheek and nose as you hold my face down onto the table. 

I want it to stain my smile as you roughly push your cunt down onto my face for the third time that night. 

I want it to hurriedly burst over my closed eyelids before we rejoin your family at dinner. 

I want it to be chased by my tongue as a seemingly endless stream releases indiscriminately in my direction. 

I want it to be smudged into my skin as I roll over in bed onto the still-warm, humped pillow. 

I want it to cling to my skin, damp from the steam of the shower, before you gently wash my face with your girlfriend’s soap.  

I want it to rain down into my pleading face as I kneel and beg for it. 

It’s all I want this year.

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