He ignores it and pushes you further on his cock.

The head is deep in your mouth. You'd puke if you could, but he fucks your throat so hard and so fast you just can't.

You hope he's close, even though you perfectly realize that he's going to satisfy himself in your mouth, and drop a whole load deep in your throat.

"Daaaamn, bitch. You're so proper and stuck-up I actually believed your act for weeks! You're a wanton slut like no other bitch in this company. The guys will never.... oh God yes keep sucking bitch... they'll never believe me..."

You can feel his free hand pulling your dress up, and his finger snakes between your asscheeks. He rips the yoga pants up, making way under the thing.

"That's more like it slut... hmmmmm." He digs into your asshole with his fingers. You try to protest, but all it does is make him cum. You feel the warm liquid torrenting into your gullet and down into your belly. He's rimming your butt, opening it up by ****. You can feel your mascara melting. You must be a damn mess...

He finally lets you off his cock. You try to breathe, stuck between the need to swallow or **** on his cum, the desire to vomit all over his car, the hurt, the humiliation. His phone flashes. The son of a bitch is making *pictures*? You roar in anger, and you hear the telltale whoosh of a message being sent.