Where else? Your mouth!

You've already chosen your career path, too late for getting into face-painting.

You open your lips and begin beating the cock towards your tongue, pre and sweat flinging and threatening your tastebuds for what would be coming soon. Laughter fills the small noises between faps and grunts as onlookers switch from taking evidence for the police to recording entirely for themselves. The tip throbs at your lips, your tongue lolling from your lips and hanging out like an out of breath dog. You're staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, and damn.. the safety was off.

In your time pleasing ex boyfriends, you'd gotten pretty good at aiming these things, which was good, because with another grunt and a strange flex from his hips, the yellowing, sticky thick load began coating your tongue. Shots made it from the tip to the back of your throat, coating everywhere in between. The stringy, chunky spunk was foul, smelled like chlorine, and tasted like battery acid. The semen of a dehydrated long time drinker, and god it made you gag.

His cock pulled back, still dripping with the spent load, but he tugged up his jeans and shuffled away as quick as possible, leaving you with a choice..