And wasn’t that true, in a way? She did like him. And judging from her reaction to him touching her, it went a lot further than like. That should make me angry, I thought. And it did...but the anger was twisted together with something else, something even more powerful. Something that wanted to see this thing go further and further and the hell with the consequences. What the hell was wrong with me?
She was staring up at him now, having slid down the wall a little so that she was partially under him. Her mouth moved weakly, but she didn’t speak. Tony’s hand started to slide around her hip, towards the front. Towards her pussy.
Okay, this has gone far enough. I typed RED. But I hesitated, just before I hit “Enter” to send it. How far will she go, if I don’t stop it? My breathing was hot and tight, every muscle in my body tense. My cock was harder than I’d ever felt it.
Tony hiked the dress up higher and both he and I gasped aloud as Heather’s shaven pussy came into view. He reached for it—
“Stop.” It was firm and unequivocal. Heather pushed herself up on her forearms. “Stop. We can’t. I’m—married.”
“You want it,” Tony told her. But he didn’t touch her.
She took a deep breath. “Please leave,” she told him.
He stared at her for a second, but then reluctantly got off the bed and left, without a backward glance. She tugged her dress down and then flopped on the bed as if in shock. After a few seconds, she rolled over and stared at the camera. She stretched out and made the chat window full screen, then unmuted me.
“Wow.” It was all I could think to say.
She pressed her lips tight together. “Are you...angry?” She dropped her eyes. “It went further than we talked about.”
I shook my head. “No.” I looked down at my own screen, where the message “RED” still sat, waiting to be sent. I deleted it. “It was fine. It was great.” And I meant it. I’d been turned on throughout—even now it was over, the memory of it made me want to grab my cock and stroke frantically. The knowledge that Tony was just a few doors down the corridor, lusting after her—maybe jacking off thinking about her—it made me see her in a whole new light. Whenever I looked at her breasts, I imagined another man’s hands on them. Whenever I admired her legs, I thought of another man between them.
That was crazy, of course. I’d never let another man fuck her. That part was just a fantasy.
“Did you like it?” I asked.
She swallowed nervously.
“Be honest,” I told her.
She stared at me for a moment. Then, “God, yes. It was fantastic.”
I went to nod, but she hadn’t finished.
“He’s a great kisser, and...I don’t know, I suppose I thought it would be just like kissing you. I wasn’t ready for how different it was.”
“Different?” A pang of jealousy went through me.
“He was more...” Her eyes were distant, remembering. “He was very strong, in his kiss. I know that doesn’t make sense, exactly. But it was like he knew what he wanted. He was demanding,” she said.
What does that mean? That I’m limp and weak when I kiss her? But I’d asked—I had to accept the answer. “Okay—”
“And when he touched me...his hands are really big. It’s not that he’s rough, exactly, but he just sort of makes me feel...small. Fragile.”
I nodded, something cold gnawing at me inside.
“When he was about to touch me—When he had my dress up and he was about to touch me there, I had to stop it,” she said.
I thought she was reassuring me. “I know. Don’t worry, I trust you,” I told her.
But she shook her head. “No. I don’t mean it like that. I mean, I had to stop him then, because....” She flushed and bit her lip. “Because if I’d let him touch me there, if I’d let it go any further...” She looked down at her hands, unable to meet my gaze. “I’m not sure I would have been able to stop.”
It hit me like a punch in the chest. I’d known she liked him—hell, I’d known she had a thing for strong, muscled men for years. But I thought her loyalty to me overrode all of that. I didn’t think she’d ever be so turned on that she’d lose control and do something I didn’t want. I’d forgotten, in my excitement, that she was just as human as me, and she could get carried away just as easily. Jesus, I’m stupid. How close had we come to disaster? “I understand,” I said at last.
“Did you enjoy it?” she asked, looking into the camera.
“Yes,” I said quickly, because I didn’t want her to feel guilty—after all, she’d only done what we agreed, more or less. If there was any blame, it was on me for coming up with the whole idea.
And then she said something that took me by surprise.
“Do you want to do it again?” she asked. Her voice was small. And hopeful.
My immediate thought was “No.” But something made me hold back. Partially it was that my mind was still in a whirl, conflicting emotions raging around inside me. I didn’t want this thing to go any further, but at the same time...part of me really did. Also, I was worried that if I stamped down on it hard now, Heather would think I was angry at her and be upset. I had to be careful, especially with her so far way. It wasn’t as if I could just reach out and give her a comforting hug.
And that’s how I made my mistake. The one that changed our lives forever.
“I need to think about it,” I told her. “Okay?”
She nodded and blew me a kiss. We told each other I love you and then we ended the call.
***
The next morning, I made a huge pot of coffee and sat there at the kitchen table drinking cup after cup, thinking. In the cool morning sunlight, the events of the night before seemed insane. Had I really encouraged my wife to flirt with...seduce another man?! Had I really sat there and watched him kiss her and grope her...damn near finger her, if she hadn’t stopped him? Other men would have started a fight over it, but I’d got off on it.
What was wrong with me?
I knew that I liked the idea of seeing her with other men. The idea of it. Not the reality. And yet, last night I’d come close to making it all come true. My fantasies were a hair’s breadth away from getting both of us into deep, deep trouble. Heather was on that rig for almost another two weeks, and now she had to work with a guy she’d had a fling with. I’d put her into an incredibly awkward situation, and I felt awful.
Although...she had enjoyed it. I felt my guts tighten. The way she’d described how he’d kissed her, how his hands had felt on her...didn’t she know that drove me crazy? Did she really think I enjoyed that part—being compared to other, stronger men?
Did I?
No, of course not.
I sighed and ran my hands through my hair. This had to stop, and stop now.
I moved through to the lounge and noticed something on the laptop. I’d got into the habit of leaving it on, in case Heather called, and there was a “New Email” indicator flashing. I clicked it.
Glen,
Thank you for being so honest. I think it’s great that we’re finally opening up to each other and thank you for being so clear about what you want. I’m going to have to think about it, but I’ll call you tonight. Sorry to hear about the camera—I was looking forward to seeing you and talking to you, but text chat will be nearly as good. And you can still watch me!
Love you,
Heather
What? It sounded like she was responding to an email. But I hadn’t emailed her yet.
Then I saw the email she was responding to, quoted below hers. I read on.
Hi Heather,
First of all, I love you.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened tonight with Tony. You didn’t do anything wrong—please believe that. The only person who’s maybe done something wrong is me. I haven’t been completely honest with you. I told you that I like the idea of other men wanting you. What you did with Tony really turned me on—more than I can say. I’ve had a long think about it and, if it’s o
kay with you, I *do* want things to go further.
I want you to have sex with Tony—if you want to.
There’ll be no jealousy. I’ll be sitting here jacking off, watching you. Just leave the camera on like you did before. If I change my mind—I won’t, but just to reassure you—I’ll type RED, like we agreed. But trust me, that won’t happen. One small problem—the camera and microphone on the laptop at this end are kaput. I’ve spent the last few hours trying to fix them, but it’s beyond me—some sort of driver problem. I can still see and hear you, though, and I can use text chat to talk to you.
I think this whole thing could actually bring us closer together. When we get back, the sex will be better than ever because you’ll have had new experiences. You’re a beautiful woman and you deserve the best.
I know this is a lot to take in. Think about it.
I love you,
Glen
I stared at the screen.
WHAT
THE
FUCK?!
I hadn’t written that email! Had someone sent it from another address and pretended to be me? I checked my “Sent” folder. The email was sitting there, sent a few hours after I hit the sack the night before.
For a second, I wondered if I was going crazy. Was I suffering from multiple personality disorder? Was this my subconscious coming out? Had I sleepwalked in the middle of the night and typed an email that revealed my true feelings?
I shook my head, trying to clear it. Whatever was going on, the first thing I had to do was tell Heather that that was not how I felt. God, what if she’d already done her thinking and decided to sleep with Tony? What if she was planning his seduction, right now?
I clicked “Compose” to start a new email.
Nothing happened.
And then I got a video call from the one other contact in the laptop’s address book. Lance. I answered.
“Hello, Glen,” he said. And he smiled a smile utterly devoid of warmth.
A deep, cold sense of dream started in my stomach. I fought to hold it back, praying I was wrong.
“We’re going to have some fun,” he told me. “With Heather.”
I stared at him, unable to speak. What?!
“The laptop is under our control—well, my control, specifically. I can control your desktop from here, over the internet. Watch.”
The mouse pointer traced a slow circle all by itself, as if the computer was possessed. I’d heard of this software—companies use it to help users out when they’re having problems with their machines. I just didn’t have any idea it was installed on the laptop he’d given me.
“Can you guess what we’re going to do, yet?” Lance asked.
“You wrote that email,” I said slowly. “You wrote it while I was asleep, and sent it to my wife.”
He nodded smugly.
“But I’ll tell her,” I said stupidly. “I’ll tell her tonight.”
“Will you, Glen?” he asked. “Are you sure? What exactly will you tell her? Let’s see, shall we?”
And I saw him type an instant message to Heather.
As me. As “Glen.”
Hello honey. I really want you to have sex with other men.
My blood ran cold. Lance didn’t hit “Send.” He left the text sitting there for a few seconds and then deleted it, but his point was made. He could type anything he liked to my wife, and she’d assume it was me.
“I set your camera and microphone to auto-mute whenever you’re talking to Heather,” Lance told me. “I can see and hear you, but Heather can’t. So screaming or holding up signs won’t work. All you can really do is watch.”
I sat there gaping in horror. He could tell Heather anything. Ask her to do anything.
“W—Why are you doing this?” I stammered.
He looked at me as if I was mad. “Why do you think?” He lifted his hips off his chair and showed me the bulge in his pants. “I have a serious hard on for your wife. I’ve been letting Tony get most of the action so far...but that’ll change.”
Tony? How did he know about Tony?
He must have read the look on my face, because he laughed. “Oh, Glen. I know all about you and Heather and Tony and your pathetic little teasing game. I’ve been sitting here watching your chats since she first came aboard.”
I blanched. Watching. He’d seen her in the shower. Seen her naked. Seen her masturbate for me.
He knew what turned me on.
I shook my head. “Lance—wait! Look, I know I said some things when I was talking to Heather, but that doesn’t mean—I don’t want her to have sex with other men!”
He sniggered nastily. “Denial is not a river in Egypt.”
“No! Really!”
He stared at me for a moment and then shrugged. “To be honest,” he said, stretching, “I don’t really give a shit.”
And I could tell he didn’t. He just wanted Heather. He didn’t care if I enjoyed the experience or not.
I was thinking fast. “I’ll call her,” I told him. “If you don’t stop this I’ll call her and tell her what’s going on.”
He sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “How?”
My jaw dropped. Of course—the rig was cut off from the outside world. No phone lines accessible to the public, no cell reception. The internet was the only connection, and Lance controlled that.
“You can refuse to participate, of course,” Lance told me. “You can smash the laptop up, if you want to. Doesn’t matter. I’m going to be sitting here on the rig talking to Heather, pretending to be you, either way. But if you smash it, you won’t know what’s going on for the rest of her stay.”
My mind shredded. What would they tell her? What would they convince her to do?
“You can’t do this,” I told him. “This is...it’s....”
“What? Rape? No it isn’t. She’s going to do everything willingly—all we’re doing is giving her permission to unleash her inner self.” He leaned towards the camera. “See, the funny thing here, Glen, is this: if Heather’s really a good girl, if she doesn’t want other men...well, then you have nothing to worry about. Even if her loving husband suggests that she do something, she’ll tell him ‘No’ and that’ll be that.” He grinned. “But...if she’s been harboring secret desires...if she’s been longing for something bigger than that pathetic thing you call a cock...well, we’re going to set her free.”
I felt sick. He’d watched me while I jacked off. I’d never thought my cock was small—Heather had never said it was small—but now I wasn’t so sure.
“Well,” said Lance, “I think that just about covers it. I think this is going to be fun, Glen. Fun for us and Heather, anyway. Maybe not so much for you.”
I shook my head. “But—Lance, wait—Think about this! What happens when Heather gets back? I can tell her everything that’s happened! She’ll hate you! She’ll sue you, or have you arrested, or—”
Lance looked me dead in the eye. “If she gets back and you tell her, what do you think’s going to happen then? How do you think she’s going to feel?”
I felt like I was dying inside. I imagined her horror at discovering that, instead of living our shared fantasies as she’d thought, she’d actually cheated on me, even unwittingly. She’d be wracked with guilt. It wouldn’t be her fault, but she’d blame herself.
I couldn’t do that to her.
Lance grinned. “What you’re going to do,” he told me, “is sit back and watch like a good, cuckolded husband. And when your wife comes home you’re going to tell her how much you enjoyed it.”
I pushed my face close to the screen, raw terror tearing at my brain. “PLEASE, Lance! Please don’t do this!”
He looked bemused. “But Glen—what would we do for entertainment for the next few weeks? Think of the poor crew. Heather’s already so popular.” I saw the mouse pointer move again and he opened up the web browser. “Here,” he said. “Look at this. Your account can read, but not post. Knock yourself out.”
And
he ended the call.
I sat there slumped in my chair in shock. My life had completely changed in the space of just a few minutes. I thought of the days and weeks to come. My wife’s loyalty, being tested again and again....
I lunged for the laptop, praying that Lance had made a mistake, left some loophole. But he’d locked it down perfectly. Email and chat was locked out. I could use the web browser, but only to look at the internal company intranet. And he’d opened up one page in particular—some sort of hidden forum, open only to invited members. It looked like the whole crew had been invited, and were posting away happily.
No. Not the whole crew. One name was notably absent.
Heather’s.
The forum was called “Off Duty Fun” and my stomach flipped over when I saw the names of some of the threads.
Coming Soon – Our New Geologist
What do you think of our new crew mate?
Heather in the shower
My stomach lurched. I clicked the first thread—I think because I wanted to put off reading the later ones. The first post in Coming Soon – Our New Geologist was from Lance.
Hey guys,
This is the sweet-titted whore the company is hiring to help us with the rock strata. Fuckable, no?
And there was a picture of Heather, from her online CV, the shape of her breasts just discernible under her blouse.
Lance’s post was followed by opinions from almost every man on the rig.
Nice!
Need 2 see more!
Good tits
When’s she coming?
Lance had posted again, further down, with stills taken from their video interview.
Here she is again, guys. See how she opened up the neck of her blouse for us, so we could get a good look at her tits? I think she really wanted to make sure she got the job. Wonder what else she’ll do for us?
More comments from the guys followed. What they thought of Heather. What they wanted to do to Heather.
Is she single? asked one guy.
Married. Even better Lance had replied. I spoke to the husband, too. He’s nothing to worry about.
Cuckolded- My Wife on the Oil Rig Page 4