Like it? Lance typed to her.
Heather gave a little spin. “I love it! I never thought you’d buy me something like this!”
“I wouldn’t,” I said aloud, morosely.
“I mean, I wouldn’t wear it out…well, maybe to a bar or something, if it was only a short walk from the car and—” She was cut off by another message arriving from Lance.
I want you to wear it to your birthday party.
Heather had told me earlier that the guys had organized a going-away party for her in the break room that night. Innocent enough—cake and a few beers someone had smuggled in, breaking the usual proscription on alcohol aboard. But suddenly the event took on a whole different meaning.
“Really?” asked Heather. “I don’t know. I mean, Lance and Tony will be there, and I guess it doesn’t matter, with them….” She blushed.
They’ve already seen all of you, Lance agreed.
“But all the other guys will be there too,” Heather looked down at herself, biting her lip.
Give them a last tease, typed Lance. Something to remember you by.
I dived at the laptop and opened a chat window to Lance. What are you doing??? I typed frantically.
Just what I said, Lance typed to me, and I could almost hear him snickering. I guarantee you, Glen—after tonight, they’ll always remember her.
I thought of my wife, and Tony and Lance’s persuasive ability. I thought of twelve other muscled, hot guys, who’d been lusting after her for weeks. I thought about Heather in that dress, in the middle of it all. “No,” I said aloud. I reached out and put my palm on the screen, trying to touch my wife. “No!”
“I guess I could,” Heather said slowly. “It is the last time they’ll see me, after all.”
Remind me, typed Lance. We’re still in Heather’s fertile time?
I glared at the screen. Yes! I typed. You know we are!
Oh dear, typed Lance. All that cum. And poor little Heather, all unprotected.
Don’t! I told him. Lance, please! Not this! Not all of them!
LOL, typed Lance.
Then, to Heather, he sent, Look, I won’t be able to see what happens tonight, because it’ll be in the break room….
Heather frowned. “Nothing’s going to happen.”
I know, typed Lance. But just in case…I wanted you to know that it’s okay. Whatever you want to do. Go nuts. It’s your last night.
“No!” I was clutching at my face. He was giving her permission, as me, to do whatever she wanted.
Heather shook her head again. “I don’t understand. It’s just a party—nothing’s going to happen.” But I could see the heat rising in her face. She was getting excited, just thinking about it. Maybe she was just imagining a quick kiss or grope in the corner with some hot guy she’d had her eye on, or a tryst with Tony or Lance. I’m sure she wasn’t expecting what Lance had planned for her.
Just so things are open and honest between us, Lance typed. I’ve sent you an email. Go and have a look.
I frowned and quickly checked my Sent folder. Sure enough, there was an email, supposedly from me. The subject read:
Heather,
I love you. I want you to enjoy your last night on the rig. Whatever happens, you should feel free to enjoy yourself. You don’t have to wait for me to agree to things, or worry about my feelings. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Have a look at the picture—I want you to keep that in mind tonight.
Glen
A picture was attached. It was of me, smiling, holding up a piece of paper. And on the paper was written I love you. Have fun! The picture Lance had snapped of me when Tony had first fucked her.
My jaw dropped in horror. The picture was clearly of me, and there was nothing to suggest that it was taken weeks ago. It looked like I was giving Heather permission to do whatever the hell she wanted.
I watched as Heather had a very different reaction to mine. I swear her eyes gleamed as she stared at the picture. “Okay,” she said. “Understood.”
With that, she blew me a kiss and ended the call. Lance kept his chat window to me open.
I’ll find a way that you can watch, Glen, he told me. I wouldn’t want you to miss this.
I started to type a reply to him, but he went offline—probably going to get ready himself.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was just toying with me.
I went to the hidden forum and quickly checked the posts there. I’d been avoiding it ever since Lance had posted the video of me jacking off—several of the crew had taken to using an animated GIF of my face being hit by my own cum as their avatar, and I flushed with shame every time I saw one. But my fear and embarrassment had been my downfall—while I’d been away, several new threads had been posted, each one accompanied by a new video of Tony and Lance fucking my wife. The titles of the threads over the last few days were ominous: Penultimate fuck before the party. Last time with just the two of us.
There was one final thread, started just that day: Heather’s Leaving Party. It started with Lance posting a picture of the dress he’d bought her, and then there were pages and pages of comments from the crew. I haven’t jacked off in a week, one guy said. I’ve been saving it all up for her.
I stood up, grabbed the laptop and hurled it across the room. I heard something crack and the screen went dark. And then I put my head in my hands and wept. My wife was walking straight into a gang bang, and she thought she had my blessing.
***
I found a bottle of scotch and slumped down on the couch, staring at the wall. Occasionally, I’d glance up at the clock. The party was supposed to kick off in thirty minutes, at eight.
How had our lives gone so badly wrong? How had we gone from being a happy, faithful couple to this? Just weeks before, I was the only man who’d seen her body naked since we got married. Now, at least fourteen men had seen her shower, strip and fuck two men at once. And if they’d forwarded the pictures on to their friends back on shore, or posted them on the internet…my stomach churned.
It was all my fault. If I hadn’t got her to tease Tony, that first day…. Maybe Lance had always intended to play this trick on us, but if I hadn’t acted that way in the first place, Heather never would have believed that it was her husband encouraging her to do these things—she would have demanded to actually see me or hear me before she went too far.
And had our lives really been so perfect, before this began? Sure, we’d been happy, but our sex lives hadn’t been great. I’d always known that Heather was more adventurous than me. Now, just at the time I’d realized that I liked seeing her with other men, that kink had been twisted and used against me. Why couldn’t I just have been honest with her? We could have had some nice, safe threesome in our own house, with a trusted guy who wore a condom. Now she was going to be used like a piece of meat by a whole group of guys…and I wasn’t even going to see it.
My eyes went to the broken laptop on the floor. It was ten to eight.
No. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t watch that happen to her. I imagined them all clustered around her defenseless, nude body, the lamb among the wolves. I wouldn’t be able to bear it.
But…could I not watch? Could I really bear to not know what happened to her? I likely wouldn’t get to speak to her again until she began the journey home—it would be a full day before she could describe it to me. And—my guts clenched tight—what if she lied? If she said nothing happened, would I believe her? I’d never know if she was lying…and that would drive a wedge between us.
Five to eight.
I dived at the laptop, praying it still worked. The screen had a long crack right across it, and flopped back against the table, its hinges broken. But the internals seemed to still work—the battery had come loose when I threw it, which is why the screen had gone dark. With that back in place and with a pile of books propping up the screen, I managed to get it to boot up.
Seconds later, I got an incoming video call from Lance. He was in a room I didn’t recognize.
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“I thought you weren’t going to join us,” he said, grinning. “Let me show you around.”
He rotated the laptop in his arms. It was clearly the break room, where the crew chilled out between shifts. There was a pool table, a couple of ancient arcade machines, a big TV and a mini kitchen area for snacks. The kitchen area was separated from the main area by a breakfast bar. Some cupboards overhung the bar where it joined the wall, creating a little cubby-hole of darkness. It was into this that Lance pushed the laptop, angling it so that its screen—and camera—were pointing along the length of the breakfast bar. In the darkness, it would probably be invisible.
Lance bent over the breakfast bar and slapped its polished surface. “This is going to be ground zero,” he told me. “So you should have a great view.”
Since it was Lance and not Heather I was talking to, he could see and hear me. I leaned in close to my own laptop. “Lance, please! Don’t do this! She’s my wife!”
He sighed. “Well Glen, she is…but you haven’t been taking very good care of her, have you? You just couldn’t keep her happy with that pathetic cock of yours. I think that’s probably why she took this job. She must have known that with all these real men around, she’d get some action eventually. She was planning on cheating on you from the start.”
My face burned. No! It wasn’t true! I’d led her into the whole thing!
Lance sighed, as if worried. “Of course, tomorrow we have to send her back to you. How will she cope with your little wiener now that she’s felt a real cock?” He pursed his lips and shook his head. “But don’t worry, Glen. We all like Heather and we want her to be happy. So tonight, we’re going to try to stock her up for her long dry spell. We’ll give her so much cock tonight, maybe she’ll stay satisfied until she can come back and visit us.”
“No!” I put my face right up to the camera. “Lance, no! You can’t! She’s not like that! She’s not some…slut!”
Lance smirked. “She is now, Glen.”
I started to speak again, but he did something to the laptop and I saw the breakfast bar grow a little dimmer as the light spilling from the laptop screen faded. He’d dimmed the screen, and presumably muted me, too. As usual, I could watch but not respond. And this time, Heather had no idea the laptop was even there—she wouldn’t glance my way. I was reduced to just a fly on the wall.
I watched Lance as he walked out of view. The camera was wide angle enough for me to see a little of the room and I watched as he quickly hung some streamers and turned off most of the lights. The finishing touch was a cheap, tacky disco lighting ball that he set on a table in the middle of the room. It threw slow–moving orange, green and purple circles of light on the walls and ceiling and gave the place the atmosphere of a low-rent nightclub.
The crew started to arrive, and as I’d expected Tony had managed to smuggle several cases of beer aboard. He’d even chilled them. As the room filled up with men, every one of them grabbed a cold can and started draining it. They’d been starved of alcohol for weeks and it showed.
When Heather arrived, she laughed and almost clapped her hands when she saw the effort they’d gone to. She actually went up to one guy—a big, black guy with huge biceps who I recognized from the photos she’d shown me—and hugged him like an old friend. Panic rose inside me. She thought these men were all her buddies. She didn’t know that they’d all been lusting after her for weeks, watching videos of her naked and fucking night after night. She didn’t realize that she was going to be the entertainment!
Someone put a beer into her hand, and I wondered if the plan was to get her drunk. But she only sipped at it and, as the night wore on, I realized that they might not need to. The excitement of being released from her guilt—having a free pass, supposedly from me—combined with the party mood and even, perversely, the knowledge that she’d soon be going home to her husband…it was all combining to leave her high and flighty, like a giggly teenager. I could see it in the way she touched them, always slapping their shoulders as they told a joke or brushing imaginary dirt from their chests as she looked up at them. For all her hesitation before, she didn’t seem to be at all concerned about the amount of skin she was showing.
My mind began to play tricks on me. Was this the way she’d been the entire time, when I hadn’t been watching? Was it the innocent, shy Heather who’d been the illusion, and not the temptress? There was no way of telling.
And then someone put on some music, and Tony grabbed her hand and pulled her into a dance.
She protested at first, but it was half-hearted. She moved with him, their bodies finding the rhythm together, and for the first track it was quite innocent. Then the next track came on and it was slower and more sultry. By now the whole crew were dancing, although for most of the guys that meant standing and swaying slightly, beer in hand, as they ogled my wife. Heather put her hands up over her head and started to writhe and twist to the music, eyes half closed. Her breasts strained at the tight material of the dress and the curves of her ass were clearly visible through the thin fabric.
Tony stepped back a little and Lance moved to take his place. With her eyes half closed, she didn’t notice until he caressed her cheek with one finger. Then she looked uncomfortable and looked around her, muttering something to him. Thanks to the music, I couldn’t hear what it was but it looked like it might have been: Not here.
Lance put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer. He whispered something in her ear and shrugged his shoulders. It’s your last night, I imagined him saying. No one cares.
And I could almost see Heather thinking it through in her head. When she looked around her, all she saw were her friends. The smiling, gorgeous, muscled men who’d worked alongside her for weeks. Everyone dancing and having a good time. So what if they saw her flirting with Lance a little? She’d be gone the next morning.
So she stepped closer to Lance, allowing him to pull her tight against him, their bodies moving as one. His hands slid up and down her back and she snuggled in to him, her breasts rubbing his chest. Tony moved in behind her. By the end of the next track, he was dancing right up against her back, his crotch rubbing against her ass.
On the next track, Lance kissed her. She looked uncomfortable at first, glancing around at the crew. But when no one said anything, she returned the kiss. Within seconds, I could see her cheeks moving as their tongues slid into each other’s mouths. The men around them pressed closer, sensing that their time was coming.
I couldn’t see exactly what happened next. I know that they were pressed in all around her, a sea of men, and that hands were reaching for her. I imagined them caressing her tight ass through the dress, sliding up her sides to cup her breasts. I thought I saw two men kissing her exposed neck from opposite sides. I imagine she protested but, as one man stepped aside for a second, I saw Lance whispering in her ear again. And then, very clearly, I saw her nod.
Almost immediately, Lance pushed the top of her dress down below her breasts. I could almost hear the intake of breath from all the men as the breasts they’d only seen on their screens were finally revealed, real and warm and touchably close. And touch them they did, hands from all sides reaching in to rub and stroke and gently pinch nipples. Moments later, a mouth was on each breast. Their pace was cautious and measured and Heather’s eyes were closed. She was still moving a little to the music and I think she’d almost slipped off into fantasy land, lost in all the male attention. The crew seemed to be trying hard not to spook her, making sure she slid smoothly down into the darkness, past the point of no return.
Lance gently turned her around and I saw one guy—the black guy she’d hugged before—kneel down in front of her. I don’t think she even really knew he was there—two men were licking her breasts and Lance and Tony were kissing her neck from behind. The guy slowly tugged her dress up over her hips, baring her naked pussy—as I’d suspected, she wasn’t wearing any underwear.
“Stop,” I begged, thousands of miles away and helpless.
“Stop this now!”
But I had to watch as the guy leaned in and pressed his face between her legs, using his elbows to spread her knees for him. The men closed in around her, so I couldn’t see much after that. But he stayed there in front of her for several minutes and I followed the action through her face as she squirmed and reddened and panted and finally cried out, long and high, as he tongued her to her first climax.
Things spiraled rapidly out of control.
Lance lifted her and carried her to the breakfast bar, sitting her down on the edge and then tipping her back so that she lay across it. It was narrow, and I wondered why he didn’t lie her lengthways. The way she was, her head wasn’t supported—she had to hold it up or it lolled back over the edge. And her long legs hung over the other side, her naked groin resting right on the edge.
Lance unfastened his jeans. His seniority obviously got him first turn. I wondered if Heather realized that he was only going to be her first.
I was looking at them from the side, with a perfect view of Heather’s outstretched body and Lance as he stepped between her thighs. I saw his cock, hard and ready, slap her thigh and saw her groan in response. I could see her pussy lips, shining wetly in the dim light of the room. And then I saw her arch her back and cry out as Lance plunged into her.
Unlike before, Heather had no idea I was watching. She had no reason to glance into the darkness under the cupboards, but Lance did. He stared at the screen for a second as he began to thrust, and then he looked meaningfully at the men around them. I’m going to fuck her, he seemed to be saying, and then we all are.
The counter was at waist height, and it was easy for Lance to pound into her, his stiff cock gleaming as it slid into her tight body. She groaned and writhed on the counter, her breath coming faster—now that she was so much closer, I could hear her even over the music. Two guys leaned in from the side and started to caress her naked breasts, and she moaned.
Cuckolded- My Wife on the Oil Rig Page 9