The Other Birthday Girl

Honey, back yourself up into that corner,
and undo those slacks that you wear so religiously.
I want that cock to fraternize and familiarize itself with my face,
till I know I know it’s nooks and crannies and curves
as well as I know my own.

It's our little secret from the goers of the party;
The cake is flowing freely and so’s the wine.
You know your place is with me, my dear, at least momentarily,
and, like a tiara on a birthday girl, I shall wear you like an ornament.
Now, like I said, unzip those pants so I can peek.
Oh my, it’s a sensitive thing, isn’t it? With its blue veins that pump.
It rises to my gentle touch, almost an automatic response.
Who would’ve thought you’d be such an erotic lover?
Let me make love to you with my mouth.

Your suit suggests such a professional businessman,
but out slips your cock from the button fly.
Other than that, you are fully dressed, as I suck on your dripping eye.
It seems to be at home between my tongue,
and nudging the back of my throat at that tantalizing bell.

Hurry, my sweet, but do it discretely:
They’re ready to blow out the candles and make a wish.
I’ve got my wish and I’m on my knees, blowing for frosting.
God, how I want it to decorate my face and to coat my throat:
Perfect to ease those nights of deepthroat-coughs and raspy whispers.

The birthday girl in the other room
is not the only one who gets a birthday’s girl’s surprise,
for I am your orgasm’s target, right between the eyes.
I marvel in the hotness of your load, the warmth of the splashes,
and, as it turns out, I got what I’ve always wished for:
A gooey throat, a shining cheek, and a man that washes me dirty.