I watched as Eryn tried, and failed. Over and over she gagged on his impressive cock. Willing herself to take it deeper, choking and fighting the urge to vomit. I watched his hand on the back of her head. As he fucked her face and frustrated, finally cast her aside. Spit dripped down her chin, her eyes puffy and red from crying while gagging. She slumped to the floor, naked and defeated.
"This slut is useless," he cried angrily. Almost spitting as he turned towards me. "Well if she can't handle this," he gripped his massive phallus. "Then I guess it's your turn to be my slut James."
Dan took a step forward, his cock hanging inches from my face. A grin crept across his as he saw my look of horror. "We agreed to the deal James" He said and I thought reluctantly, 'yes we did'. I hung my head in shame, out of the corner of my eye seeing Eryn - beautiful even in her current state watching my every move. I hung my head in shame.
Dan laughed. "One of you needs to suck this." He said waving his hand at my lovely wife. "And since this whore is incapable of handling it, the job falls to you James." I looked up, Dan's size dwarfed my own - slightly above average - cock. He was easily 8.5" long and twice as thick as me. He gently stroked himself, maintaining his erection as he waited for my decision.
"Open up sissy slut" he said and grabbed my hair. I jerked back and was greeted by a ringing slap.
Tears stung my eyes as I looked up at Dan. "Wha..." Another slap silenced me. "I said suck my dick slut...do it NOW" He commanded.
I sobbed and looked up, but felt a stirring in my pants I shifted my legs to hide. Was I enjoying this? I tried to force the thought from my mind, gulped and dutifully parted my lips. As Dan's superior erection grazed my mouth I tried not to think about what I was doing, but all I could focus on was how I'd gotten here.
[6 Weeks Prior]
I walked in the door and threw my coat on the hooks we'd set up for them. Haphazardly I kicked my shoes off and rifled through the mail I'd grabbed on the way up the steps. With each bill my steps grew heavier. Finally I tossed the pile angrily on the kitchen table and turned towards the cabinet above the fridge.
I grabbed the half empty bottle of bourbon and a glass and after adding a few cubes of ice poured myself a drink. Eryn came down the stairs and saw me with the bottle and knew exactly what had happened.
"We're fucked aren't we?" she asked matter of factly. And I sighed and nodded. Eryn had been laid off by her company 3 weeks ago, the severance was about to run out, we couldn't keep our heads above water, the decision to buy this house biting us hard in the ass. There was no other way to put it, we were house poor. And about to be homeless and poor if this kept up. My job just simply couldn't support us.
Eryn sobbed and turned for the stairs. "I'm so sorry James" she cried as she rushed into our room, closing the door and locking it as I stood outside it gently asking her to open it and telling her it was ok.
Hours later - the bottle now much lower - I had an idea. I looked over at our neighbor Dan's parking pad. The water and electricity had already been run, the plan was simple. Patch in, run my own cable from the switch and use some of the leftover piping from my basement bathroom install to funnel some water. And we'd be utility free until we could get out from under these bills. It would put a significant dent in our bills and between that and the wifi password he'd allowed us to use during our housewarming he'd thrown for us we'd only be responsible for cell phone, mortgage and the car until we got on our feet. It'd be tight, but we could make it work.
I dug a small trench through his yard, careful to cover it up. This was a new development so no one had sod yet, it was easy enough to cover up. And with Dan gone for the week on vacation I had nothing to hide.
I removed the cover plate and using my limited knowledge and a healthy dose of youtube made the necessary adjustments. It wasn't to code, and it wasn't permanent, but it would work for a few weeks or a couple months, whatever it took to get on our feet.