On her face

Just as the first surge began to rip through you, you reached down and gripped her hair, pulling her head away with a decisive, firm tug. You didn't want the containment of her throat; you wanted to see the impact of your climax. You stepped back a fraction, your cock pulsing and rigid, and let out a low, guttural groan as the first thick jet of semen erupted from you. The white, pearlescent cord arched through the dim light, striking her cheek with a heavy, visceral slap.

Maya didn't flinch. She remained on her knees, her head tilted back, her expression one of dazed, blissful surrender. You watched with a cold, appreciative satisfaction as another surge hit her, splashing across her forehead and painting a streak of white across the high, sharp arc of her cheekbone. The semen clung to her flawless skin, dripping slowly toward her jawline, mingling with the remnants of her matte red lipstick. She looked like a ruined masterpiece, a curated beauty shattered by a sudden, violent act of possession.

You stood over her for a moment, your breath coming in ragged heaves, watching the liquid slide down her face. The silence of the restroom returned, heavy and thick, broken only by the distant, muffled thrum of the club's bass vibrating through the walls. Maya blinked, her long lashes fluttering, and she slowly reached up to touch the warmth on her cheek. She looked up at you, her gaze fragmented and soft, the desperation in her eyes replaced by a hollow, satisfied exhaustion. You looked down at her, the predatory warmth returning to your eyes, and you began to dress yourself with a slow, methodical precision.