Paramita’s Desi Delight: A Gangbang of Submission and Lust

I watch her, my Paramita, my Desi queen, as she sits there, arms raised and hands clasped behind her head. Her torso is bare, breasts exposed, and she’s wearing that fucking waistband that drives me wild. The henna on her skin glows under the dim light, a stark contrast to her neutral expression. She’s ready, always ready for them. The room is quiet, except for the faint hum of the artificial lighting, and the shoes on the floor, a reminder of the men who will soon be here. I can almost hear their footsteps, their whispers, their anticipation. It’s a fucking symphony of lust, and I’m the conductor, watching my slutty wife prepare for her gangbang.

Her Preparation: A Ritual of Submission

She moves slowly, deliberately, as if every motion is a prayer. Her earrings catch the light, sparkling like stars in the dim room. The waistband, a thin strip of fabric, barely covers her pussy, teasing, taunting. I know what’s coming, and it’s a fucking torment. She’s my cuckquean, my cum slut, and she knows it. The room is set, the stage is ready, and she’s the star of this fucking show. I can see it in her eyes, the hunger, the need. She’s a whore for their cocks, and she can’t wait to be filled.

The Anticipation: A Torment of Desire

I sit here, watching, waiting. The door is closed, but it won’t be for long. They’ll come, one by one, or maybe all at once. I don’t know, and I don’t care. All I know is that she’ll be theirs, completely, utterly theirs. Her body, her mouth, her pussy, her ass – all of it, for their pleasure. And I’ll watch, I’ll always watch. It’s my role, my fucking duty. To see her used, to see her submit, to see her take every inch of their cocks. It’s a fucking nightmare, a beautiful, torturous nightmare. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.