How my wife got gangbanged by multiple men in mela

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 1

“It’ll be like Disneyland,” I told my wife. “For grown ups.”

Nandini looked at the website—which, I had to admit, didn’t really explain the Mughal-e-azam nauchandi’s appeal. “Bawdy comedy?” she asked. “Wood carving? That doesn’t sound—”

“It’ll be great. Everyone’ll be in costume. There’ll be hot guys with swords, wearing armor and stuff.”

My wife was a big fan of those historical cable dramas about Mughal slaves and Rajput, and I suspected a big part of the appeal was all the oiled muscle on show. She blushed and, for a second, it looked as if it had worked. Then she narrowed her eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?” she asked. “Why do you want to go?”

I blushed. “I just thought it’d be fun. We could…dress up and stuff.”

“Dress up? Wait. What would I have to wear?”

Damn. “Just a dress, like all the other women,” I said innocently.

Nandini stole the mouse and clicked through one of the galleries on the website. “Like this?!” she asked, horrified.

There was a gorgeous apsara on the screen wearing a low-cut vaishya’s dress. Her creamy cleavage was almost escaping.

“Maybe,” I said. “I mean, something like that.”

Nandini looked aghast. “But you’d be able to see…everything! All the other men would be able to see me!”

I had to stop myself reacting, because at those words a deep, hot ripple of arousal went through me, finishing in my groin. I actually felt my cock twitch. All the other men.

That was exactly what I wanted.

“Come on,” I said. “It’s no big deal. Everyone dresses like that. It’s just a bit of fun. And there’ll be mead and ale—”

“So drunk guys will be gawping at me?”

“—music and dancing and…lots of stuff. Come on. Please?”

She tossed back her long, chestnut hair and stared at me. I could tell she was uncertain, but my pleading eyes eventually melted their way through her defenses.

“Okay, okay, fine,” she said. “But you have to wear something equally ridiculous.”