Dark Honeymoon (A true story)- Part 2

Normally, I’d never act so bold, so… what’s the word, naughty? But I was actually angry. My husband had agreed to this party without even asking me. I could see he wasn’t picking up on my signals. Those glares I shot him? He missed them completely.

I felt like he was offering me up to these men. I decided, chalo, I’ll show him. Maybe teach him a lesson for not thinking about me. I kept dancing, and, my goodness, I could feel the eyes on me. I’d never been watched like this before like I was performing on a stage.

Soon, another guy joined in, so it was me with two of them. We were dancing so close, their hands starting to roam over my body, feeling me through the thin fabric of my dress. I was so turned on, I won’t lie—my nipples were hard, my face all flushed, a bit of sweat on my neck.

One guy was behind me, the other in front, sandwiching me as we moved together. It was so fucking intense and erotic. The man behind me had his hands on my hips, slowly inching my dress up over my bum. I knew it was happening. I encouraged it, glancing over my shoulder at him with a smile.

I was caught up in the moment, but deep down, I was also making a point to my husband. I could see him standing off to the side, just watching. Part of me wanted him to step in, to stop this, but he didn’t. He just stood there, looking torn, maybe even turned on.

I was confused, angry, and yet swept away by the heat of it all. This wasn’t the honeymoon I’d imagined, stuck in that cheap resort. But here I was, caught in this wild moment, not sure where it was going. Everything was happening so fast that I couldn’t even think straight.

My dress was already pulled up past my waist as I danced between these men, caught in the heat of it all. I was shimmying, lost in the music. I raised my arms—almost like a signal—and the guy behind me just lifted my dress right off over my head.

He tossed it aside, and suddenly, I was stark naked. The other men let out loud cheers, egging me on. In no time, all five of them crowded around me. Their hands were everywhere, touching, groping. I was so caught up that my exhibitionist side took over.

I even started unbuttoning one guy’s shirt to help him out. I could feel my husband’s eyes on me, and I knew this wasn’t me, not the usual Priya. But I was angry, still burning from him dragging us to this party without asking me. I wanted him to see what happens when he doesn’t think about me.

They lifted me and laid me on my back on the pool table. My heart was racing. The first guy who’d stripped climbed on top of me and started kissing me. I kissed him back, pulling him closer by his neck. My head was spinning from the drinks and the thrill. I whispered something to him.

God, I can’t believe I told him to let me suck him off. He got up on his knees beside my face, and I leaned up, taking his large dick into my mouth. He grabbed my head, moving hard like I was just there for his pleasure. I could sense my husband watching, probably shocked. But I was too far gone to stop.

Another guy climbed onto the table, grabbed my thighs, and spread them wide. He pushed himself into me, and I was so wet you could hear it as he moved in and out. I’ve always had these intense, gushing orgasms. Right there, in front of everyone, I was having one, my body shaking.

I was lost in it, but part of me was screaming inside. This wasn’t what I’d planned for our honeymoon. The guy I was sucking suddenly pulled out and started stroking himself fast. I told him I wanted his cum on me—something I’d never even said to my husband.

But tonight, I was different, almost like I was playing a role. I hoarsely told him to cover my face, and he did. Streams of it landed on my cheeks and forehead. I opened my mouth, catching a taste, then sucked the last drops from him, feeling wild, reckless.

The guy fucking my pussy sped up and finished, filling me up. Thank God I was on birth control, or so I hoped my husband remembered. Another orgasm hit me, stronger this time, as I felt it all. I was in a haze, barely processing. The two guys moved aside, and two more took their place.

Their hands and bodies are all over me. I was in some kind of ecstasy and kept telling them to keep going, to keep fucking me. One guy lay on his back on the table, and I climbed on top, lowering myself onto him. His dick slid into me, still dripping from before.

Then another guy got behind me, using the wetness as lube, and slid his cock into my ass. I’d never done this before—never even thought about it with my husband. But I was delirious, wiggling my hips to meet his thrusts, letting him go deeper.

He grabbed my hips, pounding hard. I couldn’t believe my body could take it. Soon, he finished, too, leaving me trembling and overwhelmed. I knew my husband was watching, and part of me wanted to stop, to scream at him for letting this happen.

But I was also caught up, showing him what his choice had led to. This wasn’t the honeymoon I’d dreamed of. But at that moment, I was someone else, someone wild. And I wasn’t sure how to come back.

Everything was a blur as if I were caught in some wild dream. The last guy saw his chance as the others moved away. My body was still trembling from what had just happened. He climbed onto the pool table and came at me from behind, sliding into my already loosened asshole.

It was so easy for him, with cum dripping out of my holes. He didn’t hold back, pounding hard. I couldn’t believe it—he slipped a couple of fingers in my ass, too, tightening things up. I was moving with him, pushing back, lost in the heat of it all.

Maybe I wanted more. Maybe I didn’t even know what I wanted anymore. I was so far gone, driven by this mix of pleasure and anger at my husband for letting this happen. I glanced back at him and, in a haze, told him to let me taste myself.

He looked over at my husband as if checking if it was okay, but I didn’t care. My husband just shrugged. The guy pulled out, crawling over to shove himself into my mouth. In moments, he was finishing, filling my mouth with his cum. I swallowed it, licking him clean.

I was consumed by this reckless version of myself. Then I turned to the guy I’d been straddling, taking him in my mouth, too, demanding his cum, my voice hoarse. I worked him until he erupted, catching it all, squeezing out every last drop as he shook with pleasure.

I don’t even know how many times each guy had their turn—twice, maybe more? My body was a mess, cum dripping from everywhere, matting my hair, streaking my face, dripping off my breasts. They were red from all the exertion. I’d never been like this, never imagined I could be.

I was proving something to my husband, showing him what his choice to come here had unleashed. But it was overwhelming me, too. The room went quiet, everyone catching their breath. They helped me off the pool table. I collapsed onto the tile floor, leaning against a pillar, completely spent.

My body was slick with sweat and cum, my mind foggy, like I was half-conscious. I barely noticed my husband stumbling over, pulling out his dick, expecting me to give him a blowjob. I glared at him, my eyes burning with anger. “No,” I said, my voice cold.

After everything, he thought I’d do that for him. I’d given myself to strangers to teach them a lesson, and now he wanted me to act like nothing had changed. I was done. Then, out of nowhere, he started pissing on me—starting at my stomach, moving up to my chest, my face.

I was shocked but also furious. Was this his way of showing disgust? Or control? I don’t know why, but when I realised what was happening, I opened my mouth, letting it happen, swallowing as I stared up at him, like I was saying, “You want this? Fine.”

The other men joined in, all of them pissing on me, from my feet to my face. I let them, offering my mouth, drinking more than I thought possible. My hair was plastered to my head, piss pooling on my belly, my body glistening. Then, in the middle of it, I did something I didn’t expect.

I rubbed myself hard and fast. A final, earth-shaking orgasm tore through me as the last of their piss hit my face. I was kinkier than I’d ever known, but it was like I was someone else entirely. I lay there, sprawled in puddles of piss, cum oozing from me, utterly exhausted.

The guys started leaving, grabbing their clothes and looking for a place to crash. The host called security to assist me in getting into the SUV for the ride back to the hotel. They half-carried me to the back seat, still naked, and I passed out instantly.

My husband grabbed my crumpled dress and got in the front, telling the driver where to go. I didn’t know it then, but he tossed my dress out the window as we drove. He must’ve been grinning, thinking I’d have to walk naked through the hotel in front of strangers again as some kind of punishment.

He thought I was a dirty slut, didn’t he? Maybe I was at that moment, but it was his choice that brought us here. I’d shown him what happens when he doesn’t listen to me, but at what cost?

To be continued.
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