Painting

“Hold still, faggot!” she orders, and I remain perfectly frozen. Standing over me, Amy aims her cock at my face, stroking it fast and hard. I don't flinch when the first thick pulse of cum surges from her prick and leaves a white stripe on my face.

Amy moans softly in pleasure as she stares down at me, one rivulet after another pulsing out and striping my skin, from my hairline down to my jaw. A few barely miss my eyes, but soon she's running out of space on my face that's not painted.

Finally, the last pulse stripes out, leaving my face drenched in Amy's jism. She's carefully avoided shooting directly in my eyes, keeping her blue irises focused on mine. When the pulsing finally ends, she squeezes the last drops out to the crown.

She leans forward, turning my head and brushing her crown down one side of my face, likely at the first spot not already coated. There's a little bit of her cum on my chest, even, and some in my hair, but my face is basically thoroughly soaked.

Amy steps back, smiling down at me with satisfaction, iring what she's done to me. She takes a deep breath, breasts rising and falling with the motion, as she lets out a low, long, happy sigh. “Fuck I wish I could keep you like this forever.”

“Rub it in, faggot, I can't switch you off when you're such a filthy slutty mess!” she cackles in satisfaction as my hands lift, and I simply and quietly start rubbing her cum into my face. It takes a few minutes, but eventually I'm dry, my skin silky.

“Beautiful,” she sighs, pulling her shorts back up and stowing her cock, buttoning and zipping before she nods to me. She is unmistakably satisfied with the sight of me, on my knees, oblivious, having just been thoroughly drenched in her cum.

—

Author's Note:

At this point, the story has a convergence at Chapter 5: “Deactivate.”
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