Your Birthday with Natasha Nice

He hates the fuss most days, the forced smiles, the small talk. Birthdays leave him cold. Except this one. She knows how to make it stick. Natasha plants those heavy tits straight into the frosting, smearing white across her skin, smirking as she drops to her knees and slides his cock between her lips—slow at first, then deeper. She looks up like she owns the moment. Then she spins, spreads her legs, and shows him the real heat: her cunt wet, open, ready. He doesn’t wait. He grabs her hips and drives in hard. Cake on her chest, cake on the floor. Neither of them cares.