A rough blowjob

John didn’t answer Jennifer.

Instead, he wrapped his hands around her head and pulled her forward, burying his cock in her throat. She managed to let out a cry of surprise before she’s gagging and **** on his shaft of meat.

Stupid bitch! Who the hell does she think she is? Fuck her makeup!

John held her against his groin, feeling her throat convulsing around his fuck-stick like she was trying to squeeze his cock to ****. Her hands grabbed his thighs, her nails dig into John's skin as she desperately tried to push herself off of him and breathe. John didn’t let her. She gets to breathe when you let her breathe.

John started thrusting into her throat, letting her get in the odd breath as he pulled out, only to plunge in even deeper than before. Tears and streamed down her face, drawing black rivers down her cheeks with her mascara. Jennifer struggled so much to escape from John's grip--John's cock--that one of her tits popped completely out of her dress, bouncing freely. John felt her hair coming loose in his hands and that only made him pull harder, wanting to ruin her appearance as much as she wanted him to ‘dress up’.

Despite his anger at the stupid actress, John have to admit that her mouth and throat were quite talented at pleasing his cock—even her voice was quite pleasant as it tried to squeak past his meat stick. No wonder she was popular in Hollywood!

John pulled her back down as hard as he could, mashing her nose against his groin, as he felt his balls finally unleash their load. John let out a load groan, pumping his first few jets directly into her belly before his grip loosened enough to let Jennifer finally escape.

He managed to shoot one shot of cum into her mouth as she pulls away, leaving her coughing and gagging, spilling his white load all over her black dress. After gifting her with one last streak of white spunk across her face, John finally fell back in his seat, thoroughly spent for now.

With the white smears that stained her dress, her face red with exertion, black tears rolling down her face, and her stylish bun now restyled into a tangled mess that said ‘freshly fucked’, she finally looked like the Hollywood whore that she was. For a moment the only sound in the limo was heavy breathing, as John and Jennifer tried to catch their breaths. Then…

“Um…excuse me, Miss Lawrence—we’ve arrived,” the limo driver called, glancing back from the front seat.

“What!?” Jennifer exclaimed, her eyes going wide as she realized the state of her appearance. She reached up with one hand, trying to assess the damage John's rough face-fucking had done, while her other hand searched for a hand mirror. “Fuck! Fuckshitfuck!” she hissed as the limo came to a stop—the flash of paparazzi cameras already piercing the tinted windows of the limo. “Do—do I look okay?” she asked John, realizing she can’t hide in the car since she’s already arrived.