He lets you breathe.

He lets go of your head and and his cock glides out of your throat. Immediately you start to cough. Spittle and tears hit the pavement below and your sight blooms back as the oxygen-deprived vignette creeps back from the edges of your vision.

“Not bad, babe, not bad. Most bitches I been with last half that time.” He says, stroking his cock and smiling down at you.

You want to hit him, to say “fuck you”, but the desire fades, replaced by… pride...? Your first deep-throat and he was impressed with you… A warm, peculiar feeling starts to blossom in your chest knowing that he’s happy and that you were the reason for it...

You try to wipe away what spit you could, wiping your shirt around your mouth before looking back up to him.

“Th- thanks...” You reply, meeting his gaze for only a second.

Again, you fought within yourself: You want to give him a hard shot to the groin and run, but... you also want to make him happier. To have him be even more impressed with you...

Now that it was over, you realized it wasn't all that bad... and the taste of his cock was ever-present on your tongue and within your mind.