All I Want For My Birthday

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 you tease my clit
with the flat of your 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 ass
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 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.

I want it to rain down into my pleading face
as I kneel and beg for it.
It’s all I want this year.