Swamp Murder

Swamp Murder. 12

Black watches as one of the guys suck my cock while the other plays with himself. It was an awkward and uncomfortable situation, and it reminded me of Meng and her friends. Their laughter echoed mockingly in my mind, but I needed the money for rent and a few things when we moved in. The pressure of the situation forced me to ignore my discomfort and focus on the task at hand.

As my cock began to grow hard, the guy turned around and presented his ass to me. Without hesitation, I poured some oil onto his backside and slipped my cock into his waiting hole.

I fucked him hard and fast, pounding his ass without mercy. The other guy joined in and slipped under the guy sucking his cock as I fucked him. The combination of sensations was overwhelming, and it wasn't long before he reached the brink of orgasm.

As the first guy climaxed, I moved on to the other guy, his legs up on my shoulder and my cock hard in his ass. My eyes drifted towards Black, who was sitting on a chair with his legs wide open as he masturbated with his other hand on his nipple. The sight was unsettling, but I continued to fuck the guy under me, listening to his moans and screams.

Suddenly, Black rose from his chair and walked into the bathroom. A minute later, he returned, dressed himself, and abruptly left. The other guy, still under me, whispered, he would be back. Despite his reassurance, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.

As I fucked the guy beneath me, I couldn't help but wonder what had just happened. Black's sudden departure had left me with a lingering sense of unease. However, I paid it no mind, as I focused on delivering an orgasm to the guy beneath me.

Finally, he climaxed, and I got up, trying to process the events that had unfolded. The memory of that morning would stay with me, a reminder of the choices I made and the sacrifices I had to make to survive.

Can we go another round? The guys asked, and before I could respond, one of them quickly added, don't worry, we will pay. I complied because I desperately needed all the money I could get, and we ended up having two more rounds.

"Here," one of the guys says casually, handing me a wad of cash as I was ready to leave. My breath catches as I count the crisp hundred-dollar bills. Five thousand dollars.

"Are you sure you didn't make a mistake?" I ask, my voice trembling. I glance up at him, but his expression doesn't waver.

"No mistake," he replies evenly. His gaze is sharp, assessing me. "Do you have a phone?"

"I do," I say, fumbling to pull it from my pocket. My heart skips a beat as the screen lights up. Ten missed calls—from Black.

"Oh my God," I whisper, panic bubbling up. Before I can react, the guy grabs my phone.

"Relax," he says with a smirk, dialing a number. The faint sound of a ringtone fills the silence. I look down and spot his phone on the floor, buzzing in sync. His grin widens as he hands my phone back.

Without another word, I leave the house. My breath hitches as I step outside. The neighborhood is quiet, almost eerily so, but the house—my God, the house—is stunning. Towering walls of glass, perfectly manicured lawns, and a sleek, modern design that screams money. How did I even end up here?

As I stroll down the street, trying to piece together the day's events, my eyes catch the house I jumped into. The memory sends a shiver down my spine. My gaze lingers, and that's when I notice them—a group of men dressed in military pants. Sitting under a shed which hummed with quiet laughter and clinking glasses. Smoke from the barbecue stand spiraled upward, fading out. I hadn't noticed the shed before.