Cuckolded- My Wife on the Oil Rig

by Victoria Wessex

  I sat back from the screen, remembering the nagging unease I’d felt during the video interview. Now I knew why. Nothing to worry about. I was nothing to worry about.

  The next thread was “What do you think of our new crew mate?” There was lots of discussion of Heather’s running attire and how much fun they were having checking out her ass when she bent over while working.

  I dropped a wrench today, said one guy called Mick, just so I could see her bend over to pick it up. Damn, I want to see her get fucked.

  Soon, Lance had told him. Soon.

  I finally clicked on the “Shower” thread. As I’d suspected, it was a video of my chat with Heather, showing her stripping off and playing with herself in the shower. It was followed by page after page of very enthusiastic comments.

  I scrolled down. There was a whole thread devoted to Heather’s shaven pussy, and her masturbating on camera. I clicked the video.

  “I’m thinking about—God—I’m thinking about your hard cock inside me!” Heather said from the screen. My jaw tightened. She’d been saying that for me. It had been my cock she was thinking about. But in the imagination of the men on the rig, it was their cocks she wanted. They’d watched her stroke and rub herself to orgasm again and again. I checked the stats on the video: 57 Views. There were only 14 men on the rig. They’d each watched my wife come multiple times.

  My hands tightened into fists. How dare he! How dare Lance do this!?

  But it got worse. Further down in the forum, there was a whole thread from Tony about his experience with Heather. He’d given a blow-by-blow account of how far he’d gotten and there was a video of them on the bed together. The most chilling part was how he’d ended it: Had fun watching her look at the laptop every now and again, checking to see if hubby wanted her to stop. He didn’t. And by the time he reads this, he won’t have a choice

  They knew. They all knew. I’d presumed it was just Lance behind the deception, but they were all in on it. They all knew that I was sitting there, watching. They all knew that I’d told my wife that the idea of her with other men turned me on. They knew that Lance had taken control of the laptop and could feed her false messages. And they’d all seen her naked and gasping, moaning through her orgasm, as I jacked off.

  And now they wanted to have some fun themselves.

  All of them.

  I sat back from the laptop and put my head in my hands. My wife had walked straight into the lion’s den, and there was nothing I could do to warn her.

  ***

  When the laptop chimed that evening, I walked over to it with a sense of dread. I thought about not accepting Heather’s call, but of course it made no difference. Lance just locked out the keyboard and clicked “Accept” himself. Heather’s smiling face filled the screen. She was in a red t-shirt and jeans, and had her hair up in a ponytail. Not seduction clothes. My heart lifted a little in hope. Maybe that meant that she wasn’t going to go any further with Tony. Maybe her instinctual loyalty to me would save the day.

  “Hi honey!” she said, smiling broadly.

  My camera and microphone were disabled and the keyboard was locked out. All I could do was sit there.

  Hi, Lance typed back to her, pretending to be me.

  “It’s such a pity I can’t see you or hear you,” Heather said, pouting.

  You know I still love you, right? Lance typed.

  Heather grinned. “Aww. I love you too.”

  Have you thought about my email? Lance asked.

  She stared at the screen for a long time. “I have,” she said. “And....”

  I held my breath.

  “...if you’re sure you’re okay with it...I’d like to do it. I think Tony will keep it quiet. I don’t want it getting around the rig that I’m sleeping with someone.”

  I closed my eyes. I could almost hear Lance laughing his ass off. I wondered if Tony could see and hear this, too? Had Lance rigged it so that they could all listen in?

  Heather stared into the camera. “So...tell me. Is it okay? Are you sure you want me to do this?”

  I stared beseechingly at the screen. “No! No! Don’t do it!” I wailed. But I knew that only Lance could see and hear me.

  It’s fine, Lance typed. 100%. Go for it, but be sure to leave the camera on.

  Heather took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.” Already, I could see the flush of excitement in her face, her eyes bright with arousal. “I figured I’d get changed before I brought him back here. I thought maybe you’d like to pick what I wore?”

  My hands hurt, and I realized I was digging my nails into my palms. She was doing everything to make it good for me—under different circumstances, if she was only flirting with a guy, I would have loved the opportunity to pick her clothes. Even now, some traitorous part of me was getting turned on, thinking of what she could wear to drive Tony crazy. But of course it wasn’t me who answered. It was Lance.

  I’d love that, typed Lance. Why don’t you start by getting naked?

  Heather smiled shyly. “Completely naked?”

  Why not? Lance typed. Only I can see.

  I wanted to kill him. Was the video being streamed to everyone on the rig? I imagined all the other men, maybe at their own laptops, maybe clustered around a big screen in the break room with a beer, preparing to watch my wife undress. Or maybe Lance would just record it and post it on the forum for them to savor tomorrow. Either way, they’d get to see everything.

  “Okay,” said Heather. And she stripped the t-shirt over her head, revealing her full breasts in a simple white bra. Before, this had turned me on. Now, knowing that others were watching, I was screaming inside for her to cover herself up. I could almost feel their eyes crawling over her.

  Beautiful, Lance told her. Now the rest.

  She reached back and unfastened her bra. Her breasts spilled out, full and ripe.

  Wait, Lance typed. Come closer.

  She stepped closer to the camera, like a lamb to the slaughter.

  Play with them for me, Lance typed.

  I gritted my teeth. This was my wife! Not some internet porn slut! But she gamely reached up and cupped her breasts. The camera was so good that the skin looked strokably soft. I could feel myself getting hard, watching...and I knew that everyone else watching would be having the same reaction.

  Now pinch your nipples for me, Lance told her.

  She reached up and carefully took each nipple between thumb and forefinger and gently pinched. Her long, pink nipples started to pucker and swell, standing to attention, and she gasped. Her nipples have always been really sensitive...but of course Lance didn’t know that.

  Harder, he demanded.

  Heather bit her lip, but pinched harder and groaned. Her nipples stiffened more. I imagined they must be achingly hard, now. When I’d played with them, at home, it had always brought her right up to the pain/pleasure barrier—we’d had to go slow and gentle.

  But Lance wasn’t aware of that. And didn’t care.

  Harder, he typed.

  “No!” I shouted uselessly. “Stop!”

  Heather looked unsure...but she was also panting with arousal. She rolled her nipples a few times between her fingers and then pinched again—hard. She let out a long, keening moan and this time I saw her press her thighs hard together as the shock went through her. When she straightened up, she was like a bitch in heat, tossing her long hair out of her eyes and shifting from foot to foot, ready for her mate.

  I imagined them all watching. Lusting after her. Laughing at me.

  Show me some clothes, Lance typed. Something sexy.

  “I don’t know how far I should go,” Heather said. “We’re on an oil rig—I can’t walk around in a negligee. Besides...I didn’t bring much sexy stuff with me. I knew you wouldn’t be here and I didn’t think I’d be dressing up for...”—she blushed—“anyone else.”

  You’re not doing anything wrong, Lance reassured her. I want this as much as you do.

  “No!” I yelled at the screen
. “No, I don’t!”

  How about business clothes? Lance asked.

  Heather wrinkled her forehead. “Business clothes aren’t sexy.”

  Depends how you wear them. Remember how you dressed for your interview with Lance? Lance asked.

  Heather smirked. “Oh. You mean, like, unbutton a few buttons and things?”

  Yes. Hey, what do you think of Lance, by the way? Would you want to sleep with him? Lance typed.

  I fumed. He was fishing for compliments!

  Heather looked abashed for a second, but then nodded. “He is pretty hot. Nice arms.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “But we’re not talking about Lance. We’re talking about Tony. Let me see what I can do.”

  As she dug in the room’s small closet, I turned Lance’s question over and over in my head. I’d thought the plan had been to trick my wife into fucking Tony. But what else did he have planned? Clearly, Lance was hoping to take his turn. Surely she’d never agree to that, though, or anything more. An experiment with one guy—maybe. But she couldn’t be corrupted so far that she’d sleep around with different members of the crew.

  My guts twisted. Could she?!

  Heather turned from the closet and held up a blouse and a skirt. A short skirt.

  “I don’t normally wear it,” she said. “It’s a little too tight on me, and it’s really short. But....”

  I love it, Lance told her. He’ll love it. Change into it. See if you can find a sexier bra to go with it.

  Heather nodded happily. Either she was eager to please, or she was so turned on by the idea of fucking Tony that she was getting aroused by the idea of dressing up for him. Maybe a little of both.

  I watched as she picked out a white lacy bra and put it on. She changed her jeans for the short black business skirt, leaving on her simple white cotton briefs. The skirt really was outrageous—it barely covered her down to mid thigh.

  Nice, Land told her. But the panties will have to go. Need to be sexier. Black. Got stockings?

  His messages were changing, I noticed. Shorter sentences. I wondered if he was typing one-handed.

  Heather dug around in a drawer and pulled out a scrap of black material. A thong.

  “I only brought it to wear under things,” she told him. “So I don’t get a line...”

  Perfect, Lance told her. And stockings. Clearly, he wasn’t going to let her forget that part.

  She bit her lip at that, but changed into the thong and pulled on a pair of hold ups, too. When she stepped into her heels, the effect was complete. She looked like an office worker in a porn film.

  Good, Lance typed. Put some more lipstick on. And do your eyes.

  Heather’s eyes grew wide. “God, Glen, what are you trying to do?”

  He’s trying to make you look like a slut, I thought, horrified.

  Just making you look even more beautiful, Lance told her, and I saw her blush and smile at the compliment. He may be a bastard, but he could wrap her round his little finger.

  She did her make-up—glossy red lips and smoky, dark eyes—and then at his request undid another button on her blouse. Her bra was almost showing without her even bending over, and if she did bend over....

  “What do you think I should do?” asked Heather. “Just knock on his door?”

  Just ask him back to your room, Lance said. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll go for it.

  Of course he will, I thought. Lance will have made sure he’s ready and waiting. For all I knew, Tony was watching this whole conversation.

  Heather leaned over the laptop. “Last chance,” she said. “Are you sure Glen?”

  I looked mournfully at the screen, shaking my head uselessly.

  Absolutely, said Lance. Knock him dead!

  I saw her minimize the chat window and leave the room. Moments later, she was back...with Tony. He was wearing a short-sleeve shirt that emphasized his powerful forearms, and his hair was wet, as if he’d just taken a shower. I wondered if he’d prepared for this just as much as she had.

  I got up and started pacing the room, watching as Tony closed the door and then leaned back against it. I could see that Heather was nervous and flighty, sucking in air through her nostrils as she turned to face him, one heel tapping on the floor.

  “So,” Tony said. “Last night you sent me away. Tonight you want me back, and you’re all dressed up like you’re going to give a goddamn seminar. What gives?”

  Of course, he knew exactly what was going on. He was in on the whole thing, damn him. But Heather didn’t know that. She thought she had to play the cheating wife...and I knew that Lance and Tony would enjoy that to the full.

  “I....” Heather nervously laced and unlaced her fingers. “I’m sorry I sent you away last night. I got nervous. I’ve never done this before.”

  “’This?’” Tony asked. “You mean—cheated on Glen?”

  Heather blushed. “Yes.”

  “But you’re going to, aren’t you?” He took a step towards her. “You’re going to cheat on him. With me.”

  Heather looked at the floor. “I—”

  He waited. I got the impression that he wanted to hear her say it.

  “Yes,” she said in a small voice.

  Something inside me died. Up until that moment, I’d hoped—prayed—that some inner morality would kick in, that she’d come to her senses and change her mind. Now, there was no hope.

  “Come here,” he told her.

  She walked over to him, taking tiny steps. I saw her nervously lick her lips. When she reached him, he put a hand under her chin and tilted her head back.

  “You’re not going to change your mind again, are you, Heather?” he asked her, in the tone of a schoolteacher.

  She shook her head dumbly.

  His lips came down on hers and I heard her groan as his tongue slipped into her mouth. His hand traced down her cheek...then her shoulder...then her arm. When it moved across to her breast and squeezed her lightly, she didn’t pull away.

  Tony broke the kiss and turned her head to the side a little, facing away from the camera, so that he could kiss down her neck. And then, while she couldn’t see, he turned to look straight at the laptop and grinned at me.

  I wanted to hurl something through the screen. The bastard knew I was watching, and he was loving it!

  He laid kisses down her throat and behind her ears and she started moaning softly in a way that made my stomach churn...and my cock swell. Despite everything, the sight of her being touched by another man still turned me on.

  His hands were all over her breasts now, groping her...mauling her. She groaned at the rough treatment, but she didn’t resist. If anything, she pressed her body closer to him.

  A chat window popped up on the laptop—a new one.

  I think she likes it a bit rough, Lance typed. He was talking directly to me, I realized. The keyboard was still locked out, but he could hear me and see me—my camera and mic were only blocked to Heather. So he can enjoy my humiliation, I fumed.

  “Please,” I begged. “Stop this.”

  But they’re having so much fun, Lance typed. Especially Heather. Doesn’t it look like she’s having fun, Glen?

  Tony’s hands were on her ass now, pulling her hard against him, squeezing and kneading her firm cheeks while his mouth devoured her. As I watched, he dragged the skirt up a little—enough to reveal the tops of her hold-ups.

  “Stockings” he said, pushing her back a little so he could see. “Did you wear those especially for me?”

  Heather nodded, and he grinned.

  I knew he’d like them, Lance typed to me. See how helpful I am, Glen? Helping your wife get what she wants.

  “You bastard!” I shouted at the laptop.

  Lance didn’t answer. Probably too busy laughing.

  Tony’s hands grew frantic. He unbuttoned her blouse, popping the buttons so quickly I thought he was going to tear them off. Then he skimmed his hands under her blouse, around her back, and unfastened her bra. He pushed
it up out of the way, and we were all gazing at my wife’s beautiful breasts.

  She’s really hot, Lance commented to me. Seriously, Glen. Thank you for allowing her on board. I mean, most men would have had more sense than to send their wife to an oil rig for weeks, all on her own. You’re really generous. Or really stupid.

  I stared at the screen, my eyes hot.

  Oh, are you going to cry for us? Lance asked. Poor little Glen. About to see his wife get fucked.

  I slammed the laptop shut and it went into sleep mode, Heather’s moans cutting off suddenly. I paced the lounge, my hands in my hair.

  I couldn’t watch.

  I couldn’t not watch.

  I opened up the laptop again, in time to see Tony push Heather onto the bed. She was panting, and landed with her legs slightly apart. Her skirt was up around her hips, her naked breasts bouncing as she stared up at him.

  He climbed onto the bed, undoing his belt.

  “No,” I said aloud, shaking my head. “No. I don’t want this. Do you understand? I don’t want this!”

  Your cock says you do, typed Lance.

  I looked down. My cock was rock hard against my thigh, the bulge in my pants obvious. I’d forgotten that Lance could still see my camera feed. He knew the truth about how this was affecting me...maybe better than I did.

  Tony had his jeans down now and was pushing down his jockey shorts. Heather gasped as she saw his cock and then, as he turned slightly, I gasped, too. He was big—at least half as big as me again, and thick. The head of his cock was plum-like, heavy and swollen.

  Oh dear, Glen, typed Lance. Look at that. Bigger than yours, isn’t it?

  I said nothing, merely stared.

  Tony fisted his cock and held it for Heather to see. “Do you want this?” he asked her.

  She swallowed nervously, but nodded.

  “You look scared,” he said. “Is it bigger than Glen’s?”

  He knew, of course. He’d watched the video of me jacking off—I was sure of it. This was just to humiliate me.

  Heather gave a tiny glance at the camera. She knew I was watching. But she also thought I was enjoying the whole thing. “Y—Yes,” she said.