"You'll be our little maid on every weekend for the rest of your life. Free of charge."

John's stomach lurched at the thought of being their personal sex ****, but he had to get out of here. He nodded, his eyes never leaving his possessions. The husband tossed them by his side as John plopped down beside him on the couch. The naked man sweaty body taking up more space than it should. The wife positioned herself between them, her hand already wrapped around her husband's thick cock.

John's own cock was semi-hard, the situation a strange mix of arousing and repulsive. He tried to focus on the prize as he took his own cock in his hand, stroking it to match her pace. The woman's eyes gleamed with excitement, watching them both as she worked her husband's shaft. The tension in the room was thick, and the only sounds were the wet slaps of skin and their labored breathing.

John's mind raced as he stroked himself. He needed to win this twisted game. She finally take over stroking both cocks. Her hand moving so fast that John had to bite his lip to keep from moaning. The fat husband grinned, watching the city boy squirm. John felt his balls tighten, the urge to cum growing stronger with each stroke. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of anything else but the depraved situation he was in.

The woman's hand was a blur, her grip firm and sure. John could feel the head of his cock growing slick with pre-cum. "Cum for me you little bitch. Look at these tits. They're so perfect aren't they."

Her cute tits were indeed mesmerizing, but John was fighting the urge to cum. He knew the stakes were high, and he couldn't afford to lose. The fat husband's grin grew wider as he watched John's face contort with effort. John felt the pressure building, but he wasn't going to give in easily. He gritted his teeth and focused on the prize: his watch and wallet, the keys to his freedom.

The wife's hand never wavered, her strokes becoming faster and more erratic. Both cocks in her fist as she use her voice to try to make John lose. "You know you love it," she cooed, leaning in to whisper in John's ear. "You love serving us. You're just a pathetic little slut, aren't you?"

John felt his resolve slipping. The husband's cock was pulsing in her hand, and the woman's breath was hot against his neck.

John knew he was close, so close to losing everything. Her hand sped up, her strokes matching both speed. He could feel the tension coiling in his stomach, his body deserves to cum doesn't it. He tries to reason himself.

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