It was a normal blowjob for coke. I thought so at least. He held the bag of my medicine in front of my face, then pointed to his crotch. I knew what that meant. I unzipped his pants, pulled out his already hard cock and started earning my coke. I can suck the chrome off a door knob. He was moaning like a horny teenager. I don’t mind giving head, but I just do what I must to get my medicine. I think it was obvious to the guy I was blowing. He seemed dismayed that I showed a lack of porn star enthusiasm sucking his dick. He put his hands around my neck rather tightly, so I started sucking faster and with more passion. Too little, too late I guess. His hands became like vice grips around my throat, crushing my wind pipe. I struggled to breath. I fought to get lose. I bit his cock by accident which loosened his grip enough to gasp for air. He smacked me so hard, my lip and nose bled immediately. He punched me in the stomach, which made me puke. He emptied the coke on the floor and laughed as I bled into the wasted powder. I tried to snort some off the floor, but he shoved me across the floor like I was a mop. I sailed into his wall. I crawled back to the coke on the floor. I was bleeding still, struggling to talk, and dizzy from smacking my head on the wall. “Bitch, you ain’t getting rewarded for biting my dick,” he said with venom. In a coarse, dry voice I said, “Give me another chance.” He did but not with his dick in my mouth. This time I got his fist up my ass. At least while he was assaulting my ass, I could snort bloody coke off his floor.
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