Goa trip turned into an Orgy

I’m Arjun, Ann’s husband, an NRI from India, now settled in Goa. Life here seamlessly blends our Indian roots with the laid-back beach vibe. But nothing prepared me for the night that turned everything upside down—a party at a beachside campsite that became a nightmare.

We planned a fun day with 16 friends, full of games, swimming, good food, and music. It was perfect—laughter blending with the waves, the air buzzing with energy. As evening came, most stayed, including some local Russians, a few Indians, and a Russian couple, Ivan and his wife.

Ann was shining, and I couldn’t stop watching her. She was swimming in the ocean, wearing a red bikini that hugged her body tightly. The top tied around her neck and back, showcasing her curves, the bottoms low on her hips, catching the last rays of sunlight.

She moved as if she were part of the water. Her arms cut through the waves, laughing and splashing with friends. The water sparkled on her skin, making her look alive. I noticed guys—Russians, even Ivan—staring at her, their eyes lingering. I’ll admit, it gave me a strange thrill.

Seeing Ann, so bold and beautiful, drawing their looks made me proud. She was mine, and they could only watch. I leaned back on the shore, sipping a beer, enjoying it. But something happened while she swam. Ann later told me she felt a sharp slap on her backside under the water.

She thought it was an accident, maybe a friend messing around, so she didn’t say anything. I didn’t notice, too busy chatting with Deepak and feeling good about the guys checking her out. Ann kept swimming, diving under and coming up, her bikini glowing red. Her laugh carried over the waves.

But she said it left her uneasy, though she didn’t want to spoil the fun. When she came out, wrapping a towel around her waist, she seemed off. Her smile was not as bright, and her eyes scanned the group in the water. I thought she was just tired and didn’t ask.

As night fell, we gathered wood for a campfire. Some Russian guys, friends of Ivan, showed up near our tent with drinks and loud music blasting. Their energy pulled us in. We lit our fire, played soft songs, and cracked open more beers. Ivan and his wife fit right in, making the mood even livelier.

Komal, Deepak’s wife, and Deepak joined the Russians’ dance, calling us to come along. I stayed by the fire with Ann, saying no. They took shots of some strong Russian liquor—harsh, burning stuff. Curiosity got us, and we all tried it. It hit hard, making my head spin. The dancing got wild.

One Russian danced close to Komal, pressing against her, his hands wandering as the music pounded. She matched him, moving her hips, and when he smacked her backside, she blushed but giggled, her eyes flashing with mischief. Ann and I looked at each other, nervous, as we felt the vibe shift.

Before we could do anything, Ivan and another guy closed in on Komal, pulling off her top and skirt. She stood naked in the firelight, and I thought she’d pull back, but she didn’t. She kept dancing, bolder, almost daring. Her laughter was loud, wild, as she spun, her skin glowing.

She looked at Deepak, who stood frozen, his face torn between shock and anger. Komal’s eyes had a teasing spark as if she were challenging him to watch, loving the attention. She laughed louder, taunting, her hips swaying, soaking in every second. The Russians didn’t hold back.

Ivan grabbed Komal’s hips, his hands sliding up to her breasts, squeezing them hard. His fingers pressed into her skin, playing with her nipples. She arched back, moaning softly through her giggles. Another guy moved behind her, grabbing her ass, kneading it slowly.

Then, she smacked it sharply, making her skin jiggle and redden. Komal leaned into them, her body moving with the music, giggling with every slap, teasing them back. One Russian pressed her breasts together, lifting them like a show. The other spanked her in time with the beat.

Each hit pulled a playful “Oh!” from her. She kept looking at Deepak, her smile wicked, like she wanted him to see her enjoying it. Deepak tried to step in, but the Russians pushed him back. Komal kept dancing. Her body was theirs to play with. Things got crazier.

Evy, Alisha, Aleena, and Joann got swept up in the energy and joined Komal. Evy, usually quiet, moved hesitantly at first. But soon matched Komal’s rhythm, her laugh nervous but growing bold. Alisha, always outgoing, jumped in fully, hips swaying, giggling as she tossed her hair.

Aleena, the reckless whore everyone knew, was half-naked already, egging the Russians on with sultry looks and bold moves. Joann, shy by nature, got pulled in. Her movements were unsure, but she was caught in the chaos. Ann stayed with me, her face tight, clearly not okay with this.

She gripped her drink, her knuckles white, watching the others. But Aleena, thriving in her wildness, noticed Ann and grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the group with a mocking laugh. “Come on, don’t be boring!” she slurred, her voice sharp.

The other women joined in, their voices pushing Ann. The Russians grinned, urging her on. Ann resisted, her eyes darting to me, begging for help. But Aleena’s tug and the group’s pressure were too strong. She was pulled into the circle, her body stiff, her face showing fear and discomfort.

Ivan locked onto Ann, his eyes gleaming as he moved close, swaying to the music. He put his hands on her hips, pulling her into a slow dance. Ann’s face tensed, her shoulders hunching as she tried to keep space. Her movements were awkward.

She looked at me, pleading silently, but Ivan’s hands moved up her sides, brushing her top, and she flinched, her breath catching. She tried to step back, but his grip tightened. His smile was sharp as he whispered something I couldn’t hear.

Ann shook her head, clearly uneasy, but the liquor was hitting her. I saw it in her eyes—her sharpness fading, her pupils wide as the drink took over. Ivan’s hands went to her waist again, pressing into her skin, and her resistance softened.

Her body relaxed, her movements looser as the alcohol dulled her fear. When Ivan cupped her face, pulling her closer, a faint flush spread across her cheeks. She later told me the liquor made her skin tingle. His touch sent confusing sparks through her, mixing discomfort with a strange thrill she didn’t want.

As he spun her, his hands grazing her back and hips, Ann’s movements eased, but her eyes kept flicking to me, guilt and confusion mixing in her gaze. The liquor clouded my head, making it feel like a dream. Aleena, Evy, Alisha, and Joann were fully in it now.

The Russians have taken off their clothes alongside Komal. Ivan stripped Ann, pulling off her top and skirt, leaving her naked. She seemed to lean into it, the drink overriding her earlier hesitation, especially knowing I was watching. My chest tightened.

All the women were naked, the Russians and Ivan touching them freely. I wanted to move, to stop it, but my body felt heavy, my thoughts fuzzy. Ivan and another Russian lifted Ann, touching her in ways that made her moan loudly. I stood frozen as they took her, one in front, another behind.

The pain burned, but the liquor dulled my fight. Aleena suggested tying our husbands up. I was tied to a tree, forced to watch. Ann kissed Ivan hard, her body shaking with pleasure. One Russian finished in her mouth, and when I refused to clean the mess, he hit me, forcing my face into it.

The humiliation cut deep. Jack, Aleena’s disgusting husband, was the worst. I’d always hated how he looked at Ann. Now, he took her mouth, then her core, throwing vile insults. She egged him on, cursing back, welcoming his roughness.

When he finished inside her, claiming her in a way that broke me. Her shocked look hurt the most. Later, Ann admitted it was planned. Jack, Ivan, and the Russians set it up to hurt me. Ann went along, kissing Jack and promising to follow his orders to break me more.

I’m stuck, still loving her but crushed by her betrayal. That night haunts me, replaying in my head.