How my wife got gangbanged by multiple men in mela

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 5
My wife gasped again, and I waited for her to say something like, “Um, this is all very fun, but I should probably be getting back to my husband now.” But instead, in a fair approximation of a Bengali accent, she said, “Sir! You have made a mistake. I’m merely a maiden, not a daaku!” And then she…struggled against him. And when I say struggled, I mean…didn’t really struggle at all. She just sort of writhed against him as if helpless, even though she could have easily got up off his lap. It seemed to be calculated to rub her ass against his crotch and tease him with her hair while doing absolutely nothing to actually free her.

My wife was playing along. She was actually acting out her role, even though we’d just wandered into this role play thing accidentally.

“Then why do you have a dagger, if not to plunge it into a sleeping man’s heart? Perhaps you mean to kill me in my sleep after I take you?” He reached around her and unbuckled her belt of weapons.

“No, no—” said my wife. “Don’t take my weapons! Don’t leave me defenseless!” She did another one of those non-struggles. A real change was coming over her, now. Her mouth was open and her breath was coming in hot little pants. She’s not just playing along, I thought in shock. She’s turned on.

“Now,” said her dance partner. “Now that I’ve made you safe, open up those sweet lips to me, or I’ll see you dangle from the gallows.” My wife was leaning back against him and, as I watched in horror, he shifted so that her head lolled back onto his shoulder. He smoothed her hair out of the way. He was about to kiss her!

I waited for my wife to say something to stop him.

She didn’t.

His mouth descended on hers, and just before they connected I saw her soft, pink lips part in welcome. Then he was kissing her, deep and hungry, and within seconds I could tell that his tongue was in her mouth. She arched her back, pressing herself against him, and I saw one breast rub against his upper arm. He was doing something with his other hand, too, on the side of her facing away from me. I craned around for a better look…. Holy shit! He’d yanked her lehenga almost up to her waist on that side, and his hand was sliding along her thigh, upward and inward.

I was numb with shock…and at the same time more excited than I’d ever been in my life, my cock almost painfully hard, my heart pounding. That my wife would allow this was unbelievable—at home, she was so shy! Putting on the costume must have unlocked something inside her, and then finding herself in this role play event must have been the final straw. I remembered her dance partner whispering in her ear, out on the dance floor. He must have explained how the event worked, and that she as a vaishya should be subservient to him as a lord. Of course, Nandini would have known full well that she could just walk out at any time—it was only a game. But maybe the role play was just what she needed as an excuse. She’d never kiss another man, of course—she was a hundred percent faithful. But if she “had” to kiss another man to stay in character, if, in her mind, she was a helpless daaku vaishya, in thrall to an evil lord….

A bomb went off in my mind. Then she could do anything she wanted!

My chest went tight. Maybe I’d been reading my wife wrong, all these years. Maybe she had needs I’d never known about, and had just been too shy to express them. How far would she go, now that she had an opportunity?

The man nodded towards the dancers, as if telling her that it was time for them to go and rejoin the action. He leaned in and whispered something in her ear, and she blushed. His hand was under her lehenga—God, was he feeling her up?

She blushed again. She had a strange look in her eyes—she was turned on, but it was more than that, more like she was off in her own little world. And then she nodded. He made a sudden motion with the hand that was under her lehenga and she yelped and blushed even more. Then she slid off his lap and he strode off into the crowd.

I stepped forward into the light.

“Rishab!” She blinked twice and seemed to snap back to her old self, the distant look in her eyes gone. She blushed crimson, glancing at the departing back of her partner. “You…saw that?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but I didn’t know what to say. Yell at her, for kissing another guy? But she’d done exactly what I’d secretly wanted her to do—let a guy leer over her and flirt with her and get her alone—and it had been just as much of a turn on as I thought it would.

Of course, she’d gone a lot further than I’d wanted…I mean, I’d thought about her kissing someone as a fantasy, but I hadn’t wanted it to actually happen…had I? And she didn’t know that it was a fantasy of mine, so she’d sort of cheated on me.

I looked at her face, distraught and on the verge of tears, and I knew that I couldn’t be angry at her. I’d be faking it, making her feel bad just to righteously defend my manhood. Instead, I took her hands, pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “It’s okay,” I told her quickly.

“It—It is?” Her eyes were moist.

I sat her down on the cushions. “It’s okay. Really. I’m not angry.”

She swallowed, looking at me disbelievingly, but seemed to calm down. “I’m sorry!” she said. “I just….” She blushed. “I got kind of…into it, and it just sort of…”

“It just sort of happened?” I asked gently.

She shrugged guiltily. “Yes…but that wasn’t what I was going to say. It just sort of…turned me on,” she said in a small voice.

“Kissing a stranger?” I asked, thinking I understood.

She nodded. “Yes, and….”—she looked away, unable to meet my eyes—“He was a lord, and he was going to have me hung as a daaku if I didn’t do as he said. I was…”—she almost whispered it—“helpless.”

My jaw dropped. Helpless?! We’d never played around with BDSM. Nandini wasn’t into that…was she? Suddenly, all that non-struggling made a lot of sense. I realized she was still looking at me with big, worried eyes.

“Look,” I said. “Honestly, it’s alright.”

“But...aren’t you angry?”

And there it was. Decision time. Tell her the truth and expose my fantasies, or lie to her and make her feel terrible?

It wasn’t any decision at all. My love for her gave me only one choice…and, ultimately, doomed me.

“No,” I said softly. “I’m not angry.” I edged closer to her, not wanting anyone else to hear. “Look, I should have said something a long time ago. I…”—I took a deep breath—“I get turned on, seeing other men looking at you. Seeing that guy kiss you was even better.”

She stared at me for a long time.

“Say something!” I said.

“I’m just…are’t you jealous?” she asked.

“Yes! Jealous and angry. But turned on as well. More turned on than angry. I mean, being turned on makes it okay.” I sighed. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“So you…want me to do things with other guys?” she said slowly.

I nodded. “Do you think I’m weird?”

For a heart-stopping moment, she said nothing. Then: “No. I mean, I’ve heard of people liking that. It’s just…wow. It’s a lot to take in.” She looked around her at the candles, the lords and ladies. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation here.”

“Maybe we had to have it here,” I said. “Maybe this is a good place to…you know. Both come out of our shells a bit.”

She glanced back at the cushions where she’d sat on the man’s lap, and blushed. “Maybe.” She thought for a while. “So it wouldn’t be cheating? I mean, you’d really be okay with it?”

I had to think about it. I’d lived so long with the fantasy that it was hard to get used to the idea of it becoming a reality. “Yeah. I’d have to be there, though. That’s what would make it not cheating. That I’d be there, and know everything that went on.”

She nodded. “How far would you want me to go?”

And that was the moment. All I had to say was, “No further than kissing,” which was about how I felt. Or maybe “No clothes come off,” which was definitely my limit. Why didn’t I just say that? My brain was screaming at me to say that. But I still had an image in my brain of Nandini being mounted by her dance partner, his strong body between her legs, and even though I knew it was just a fantasy, knew for certain that I’d never want it to happen in reality, it made me hesitate. What if I drew a line, and then wanted to go just over it? What if I said No further than kissing, but then wanted her to go just a little further and she called a stop to things?

And so, fatally, I said, “I don’t think we should set a limit. I’ll be there. I’ll just stop you if it’s too much.”

She swallowed and I saw her breathing speed up. “Really?”

I nodded slowly. I was still thinking in terms of kissing and groping—I never considered that she might be thinking of much, much more. “Yep.” I stood up. “Now…how about we get out of here?” And I held out my hand to help her up.

She smiled and took it, pulling herself to her feet. Then she threw herself into my arms and kissed me. “Thank you!” she said.

“For what? For giving you permission?”

“For being honest with me.” And she hugged me. As we walked towards the exit, I was elated. I had visions of us having happy adventures together, with her dancing and kissing strangers in bars and me watching from a few feet away, and then fantastic sex afterwards. I thought we’d just taken a huge step forward in our marriage. I had no idea of the mistake I’d just made.

Just as we neared the exit, I saw Nandini’s dance partner. He was side-on to us, taking a break at the side of the tamboo and watching the dancers. As I watched, I saw him lift his hand to his face. In his huge palm was a scrap of black, silky fabric from which dangled some thin bands. He raised it to his nose, inhaled deeply, and grinned.

I had to turn the image around in my head before I realized that I was seeing a pair of women’s panties with the waistband snapped.

Nandini’s panties. He’d torn them off her as part of their scene.

I walked Nandini out of there before she saw him, but my brain was already working overtime. Suddenly, I was seeing things in a different light. I could imagine, now, what he’d been doing under her lehenga. He must have had his hand bunched in her panties, stretching them away from her pussy, and whispered something like, “I will take your underclothes as a trophy, you harlot.”

And she’d agreed. Not just to giving him her panties, but to having them ripped off. That was way beyond my comfort zone.

And then I’d come along and told her that I was fine with the whole thing. She now thought I was okay with far more than I really was.

I looked across at her as she strolled happily along. Should I say something? But if I did, she was liable to panic and be upset, and we were only just getting started on this whole new adventure. Best to chalk it up to experience, I figured. She’d gone too far, but nothing like that was ever going to happen again. I’d step in and stop things before it did.