King of the Pillows.
I stood by the bed and smiled. My birthday boy had stripped out of his clothes and apparently just couldn’t stay awake long enough to put on some boxers to sleep. My 30 year old boy, passed out like a 3 year old. He was sprawled over the entirety of our white-comforter, completely naked, and still wearing that silly crown Martha gave him. I reached out and caressed the perfect curve of his ass with my fingertips. What a flawless creature. I didn’t want to disturb him. My hopes of getting post-party birthday sex would have to wait until the morning though – hopefully with the crown on. For now though, I took it off and set it on the nightstand.
I threw my robe over the chair and turned off the overhead light so just the table lamp was on. I gently prodded him and he whined at me, protesting the entire time I tried to push him up to get the comforter out from under him. When I had freed it, I only had a small window of time to get under it and pull him towards me before he passed out again.
Once he felt me though, he scooted up and clung to me like a barnacle. I sighed at the sensation of his cock bumping against my leg. My own cock stirred, and I silently chided it. My boy rested his head on my chest. I was right up against the edge of the bed, but at least I wouldn’t fall off. Good enough. I kissed him on the forehead.
“Good night, my precious birthday boy in his birthday suit.”
“Gnite,” he grunted, barely audible.
I turned out the light.
The next morning he was plenty recharged. He was babbling about his presents and how much fun he had and laughing over the Instagram photos. It wasn’t until after breakfast that he finally calmed down enough where I had a moment to sneak in a kiss and convince him to come back upstairs to bed. The crown was waiting on the nightstand, and just like I hoped, he put it on while he rode me.
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Captions are fictional.