Lonely housewife engages in gangbang

My husband and I returned from the States six months after I had my first gang-bang encounter in a bar. I did not wish to risk my marriage — I had everything that I needed — and so exercised discretion over disquiet in my life. I had led a sheltered life in India till we traveled to the US five years back, and the lifestyle and attitude in that country helped to loosen up a lot of inhibitions that I had for so long carried around as baggage. The encounter happened and left a mark on me. I was gang-raped (if submitting to a group of sex-crazed men craving for free pussy can be termed rape), used in an alleyway, and left to walk home without my underwear and in tattered clothes — and I loved every moment of it.

I have not stopped thinking about it and reliving it since.

Six months later, we returned back home — we were not sure how long the relocation was going to last, but I was crestfallen that I could not experiment further in men as boldly as I could in the US.

Our apartment on the outskirts of Pune was one of a few condos in a luxury complex. On this day, I was on cloud nine — my husband who was away for work for two months was coming down.

Suffice it is to say I was terribly horny all this while. Miserable every night in my bed, I would toss and turn, trying not to think about his hugeness in my bush, his tongue-lashes in my cunt, his warm hands on my tits, his fingers playing with my nipples. Sometimes, it would not be him I thought of when I came. Yes, it was painful to be away from sex for such a long time.

My dildo was my constant companion through these months. I used it almost everyday. At work, I would quietly sneak inside the men’s room and shove it up my pussy; this somehow made me cum instantly. Probably because the venue excited me even more and I secretly wished somebody would actually see me in the act. If your husband’s away for so long at frequent intervals, such thoughts are but inevitable, one can assume.

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So on this day I wore a semi transparent chiffon sari (to quickly bring you up to speed — this is nothing but 5-6 yards of unstitched cloth worn over a midriff-baring blouse and a petticoat that can be wrapped around in various styles). I wore it in such a way that my bellybutton and the ring in it was exposed, and the other end was draped over the shoulder exposing as much of my right tit as I could without having the sari fall off. With that, I wore a backless halter-neck blouse with only strings behind and a very low neck, aiming to flaunt the gear when he walked through that door. My hair, in its curly volume, was loose. Finally, I wore a nose-ring and a red bindi on my forehead to accentuate what I needed and what I could offer. Looking at myself in the mirror, I could believe that this 35-year old could get picked up if she stood by the roadside.

Since we had lived abroad for such a long period of time, I hardly knew people in Pune, including our neighbors. So on that day while taking a stroll on the corridor, I suddenly realized that from across the balcony a group of men were ogling me. I did not know them, and tried not to pay attention, but my eyes kept on meeting theirs and what I saw was not unexpected. They were staring at me as if I were a piece of cake, ready to be gorged! I was instantly shaky, and my cell phone fell on the ground. Two seconds after bending over to pick it up, I realized to my horror that the sari draped over my shoulder had fallen, completely exposing my cleavage and my belly button. There were instant catcalls from the other balcony. I was on display. Cursed myself for being so stupidly absent minded — if only I had pinned my sari to my blouse…

Quickly, I reproached myself. Yeah, so a few men had a little fun at my expense. Big deal! I went inside, thought it may be a good idea to sit by the pool with a beer, and went hurrying down the stairs. They were relatively empty at this time of the day. Now in case you did not know already, a sari is not the most manageable of dresses — as fate would have it, I tripped.

Someone made a speedy grab as I fell. Whoa! When I regained my orientation, someone I had never seen in my life was lying on his back with me on top of him, with one end of my sari astray and my hair all over his face. I was so shocked and overwhelmed by the whole thing that I couldn’t move. He slowly moved my hair from his face and stared straight into the valley between my tits. They almost grazed his chin, so even in my distraught mind, I could not blame him for his eyes going there first. Then he looked into my eyes and grinned. Two seconds later I realized that his hands were on my ass — he held me tight as if to prevent me from losing my balance further. As I peeled my eyes away and tried to pry myself off him, I realized with a sinking feeling that my blouse button had entangled itself with that of his shirt. I tugged and pulled but it just wouldn’t come off! Finally, he took over, and used his hands to slowly untangle the knot. In the process I could feel his hands touch the soft flesh of my tits from where they were exposed from the blouse. Big surprise there. But still I didn’t complain.

At last I was free. I gradually gathered myself and made a quick (and hopefully decent) exit.

But something happened then and there. My mind was racing with possibilities. Thinking back to the night six months back. He wasn’t bad looking and was probably no more than thirty. Dirty thoughts about him assailing me filled up my mind as I replayed the events, and I started sweating.

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Two hours later, I received a call from my husband, informing me that he had missed his connecting flight due to heavy snow at Heathrow. At best, he would be able to take the flight tomorrow. That meant I had a whole day to wait again. I didn’t know whether I should be upset or happy. Either way, I was impatient.

It was dusk when I wanted to go to the roof to get some air. Even by then, I had not changed from my outfit — kind of liking how I looked in it and the attention I had got so far through the day. The roof on our building is usually deserted unless there are raucous parties thrown by the residents. As I was walking down the corridor towards the door that led to the roof, someone grabbed me by my waist and pulled me beside the doorway. It was Him. He was sweating and looked anxious, as if he had been waiting for quite some time. As I struggled to free myself, his grip became tighter. Till then, I hadn’t shouted or cried for help. He pulled me closer and now I could feel his hard member against my exposed belly.

He whispered. Said that he didn’t know me but that he found me really attractive, especially as the ring on my finger was a tell-tale that I was married. If it is not a problem, would I mind if he took his load off on me? I was stumped by such an abashed attitude. For a few moments, I debated whether “taking his load off” referred to his seeking a stranger’s shoulder to cry on, but dismissed it quickly. His brash attraction towards me was in a strange way a turn on. Instinctively, I gave him a hard slap on his cheek. He started grinning and forced his mouth on mine. He loosened my hair which was at that time tied up in a bun, and undraped my sari in a second. There I was beside the roof doorway, in that small alcove, standing with just my petticoat and blouse, on the verge of getting groped (at the very least) by this man I did not know. Life comes a full circle.

My body was shivering with both fear and excitement. I slowly turned around to face the wall, and he came behind me and cupped my tits. I moaned loudly. He quickly inserted his finger in mouth to stifle the noise. Like a tamed tigress, I began to suck on it. A bizarre sense of carnal pleasure engulfed me and the good housewife was slowly becoming a whore yet again. He unhooked my blouse from the front but didn’t take it off fully. I wasn’t wearing a bra, so his fingers quickly succeeded in reaching my nipples. He twisted and pinched them as if they were rose buds. I grew hornier now. He was a multi-tasker — while playing with my tits, he lifted up my petticoat from behind and went straight for my pussy. It was so wet that it was kind of embarrassing at that moment. Taking my panties to the side, he rubbed my clit and then popped in three of his fingers, one after the other, in my cunt. Instantly, I could feel his smirk as he murmured, “Lady, you are wet as a well”. I was miserably wet, and his fingers made it worse. He was rubbing my clit with his thumb and other three fingers were inside me — going in and out — a vibration that I hadn’t experienced in a long time. I started moaning as my hands went for his manhood from behind. In an instant, he took his fingers out of my pussy and shoved them in my mouth. I licked the juices dripping from hands as he turned me around and then pushed me down. I stared at his penis (quite a decent one, but black as night) as he slowly unzipped his pants. And forced it inside my mouth. I tasted him. And then there was no stopping. He was fucking me in my mouth — back and forth without any gentleness — and there was a time when I almost though I would choke. He then took himself out and asked him to turn around and face the wall again. I knew what was coming. And I wanted it bad. I put one leg up on a protrusion from the alcove wall (that was strangely shaped like a make-shift bench) so that he could get a enough room to propel his ship. With all his vigor he mounted me with his meat.

He had pulled up my petticoat and was doing me from the back, with me moaning against his thrusts, when suddenly I heard footsteps. I froze with fear and tried to tell him to stop! He was in no mood to pull the brakes and despite hearing the footsteps he fucked me even harder. I wondered at the appetite for kink in this man, till he said that when he saw me emerging from my room (I had carelessly given away where I lived!), he was waiting on the stairs above. Hoping for some action with a housewife who lived by herself, he had texted his friend in the adjacent building to join us. He hadn’t hoped for much at that time. Now, he wanted the other guy to see us Fuck — male ego boost? And so, he grabbed my tits and the fucking continued. He suddenly lay down on the ground and pulled me viciously to make me sit on him, facing him. I was on top and he couldn’t take his eyes off my swinging titties. I was riding him. Moaning loudly now, he reached for the trophies he had won and squeezed them so hard that I started to moan louder, in pain and ecstasy.

He was raping a woman who didn’t resist.

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For a few moments, I had forgotten about the footsteps and hoped they did not belong to his friend and would pass. Now, I was shocked to feel that someone was behind us, watching. I quickly turned and saw this guy in his early twenties looking at us as if he was watching porn. He was one of the fellows who was making the catcalls earlier in the day while I stood on my balcony. The guy was salivating, his eyes shining as if he was living out a fantasy.

I stopped. Got up somehow and tried covering up my nakedness in vain. My breasts were bare by this time, as the guy doing me had torn the blouse off during the intercourse. Right then, I was just in my petticoat. The new guy hesitated, then approached us and said “I see you on your way to work. Your husband’s been away for a while, right?”

I nodded mutely. Both of them grinned and shared a knowing look. It was not hard to decipher — “free pussy” — it shouted.

“Want to get a piece of this, G*****?” said the man who was raping me all this while. I didn’t have a say. The new guy dropped off his pants and headed straight for my mouth. He force-fucked me in my mouth. In response, I blew his brains off. The other man sat up and sucked away at my tits, biting my dark brown nipples between his teeth. “The best jugs ever” was all I could hear amidst the groans from all three of us. My jugs were now paining, with red bite marks all over. He had used them completely. The new guy wanted to ass-fuck me and turned me doggy-style and nailed me down. I cried out loud as it really hurt — I had been ravaged in that hole a while back in the bar and was not used to it. But this guy was on a mission to anal–yze me! The first man came under me and secured his dick inside my cunt. Oh my god! I couldn’t believe that I was getting filled up in both my holes at the same time by two different men, a second time in my slutty life!

I sweated and moaned and groaned. The man underneath masticated my nipples while sealing my pussy with his big fat sausage. And the new guy was stuffing me with his pulsating penis in my ass. None of them would stop. I was actually getting assaulted and molested by these two unknown men, and I was having a great time!

Suddenly there was a rush of juices and I knew I was about to cum. All I could say in between breaths was: “Oh yeah, I’m gonna cum now, fuck me harder…do me faster.” At this, both of them started banging like there was no tomorrow. One from my back end, the other from down under. I came like a fountain. And I wanted to lie still and catch my breath.

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They pulled out, not spent themselves. Now they wanted to switch. My poor cunt was dripping cum all over, but there was no rest for it. Yet. They opened the door to the roof and dragged me inside, half-naked. As if I would’ve protested. I don’t know if anyone from the other buildings in the complex saw us — it was dusk but there was an almost full moon lighting up the sky. In the middle of the roof, one of them tore off my petticoat to my shock, and asked me walk naked. I had to parade my bare body in front of them as if I was an exhibit. I just prayed that no one in the nearby buildings looked out of their balcony. What if they saw this totally unbelievable romp on the roof?

In the end, I decided that the kink was good enough — just what I had wanted and craved for all these months. Depraved in this mad sex trip, I decided to give in. There I was doing a little ‘ramp’ walk for them, nude and naughty, while both the men waited and took me in. Finally, one of them pushed me against the wall, pulled my hair back and hammered himself from behind. Another made me jump on him and wrap my legs around him while he pumped me. They switched, time and again, till I was beat.

Finally, I could feel the first guy cum inside me as he moaned out loud and pulled my hair like a common slut’s. The other one was almost done too. He asked me give him a hand job and I did. In under a minute, he came on my face. I was forced to swallow as much as I could.

So, taken brutally by two men, I finally stood shivering on an otherwise empty roof there, wrapping myself as best as I could in my semi torn petticoat. Realization had overcome the rush of sex, and I was again praying that nobody actually watched this. I did not dare think about the consequences.

Ignoring them now, I walked/ crawled/ found my way back into my apartment and headed straight for a bath. The staircase was thankfully empty even now, as I had hoped, so no one observed a naked woman with her wedding bangles with a tattered piece of cloth come down the roof. Pune, India was not such a bad place after all. I was glad I could find an avenue for my newfound nymphomania, and worried at the same time as to how I was going to explain the bruises on my body to my husband the next day.

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