Lance wanted something more, though, and suddenly lifted her legs high in the air, pressing them almost together and resting them on his shoulders so that she was bent up into an “L” shape. He started pounding her again, and in this position he could go deeper. She started to cry out, and I imagined the head of that long cock hitting her very limits…pressing again and again against the opening to her cervix. I looked down at Lance’s balls, heavy and swinging beneath his cock. This, I knew, was when it would happen. It had been risky before, but now her body was at its most fertile.
Heather was starting to pant, her eyes closed. I think she’d forgotten about just how many guys were around her—either she was blocking it out from the humiliation of being taken in front of them, or she was just too focused on the pleasure Lance was giving her. When Tony put a hand on her chin and gently tipped her head back, I didn’t know what he intended—I’m naïve, I suppose. Not until he had her head all the way back, her hair pressing against the side of the counter. And then he unfastened his jeans.
Suddenly, her position on the counter made sense.
I jumped up out of my chair. “No!” No one could hear me, but I couldn’t keep quiet. “You can’t—Don’t!” I’d seen her take Lance and Tony at the same time before, but this was different. Something about her position, the way Lance had her bent, the way her head was upside-down. They’d turned her into a fuck toy for their use.
The first Heather knew of it was when she felt the head of Tony’s cock brush her soft lips. Her eyes opened and she looked uncertain, but the men caressing her breasts started pinching her nipples, and then Lance reached around her upraised legs and started to slowly rub her clit. I saw her arch her back in pleasure, and her mouth opened wide to take Tony in. Immediately, he was sliding into her upside-down mouth, her tongue caressing the top of his cock instead of the underside. He moved slowly—slower than I would have expected. Then my stomach lurched in horror as I realized why.
With her head tipped right back, he had a straight line into her throat. He was going all the way down.
As I watched, his cock hit the back of her mouth. Her cheeks were already moving, her tongue working at his cock, but as he reached that point she went still. I heard her give a kind of warning groan.
And I saw him smile.
And push forward.
She bucked under him, her hands coming up to flail in the air. I could see her throat spasm as she gagged on the head of his cock. “No!” I shouted. “You can’t do that! She’s my wife!”
But Tony simply ignored her struggles, and I saw her back arch in shock as his cock plunged into her throat. Inch after thick inch disappeared between her soft lips, until his groin was pressed tight against her nose. The men watching were clustered close, now, craning over each other’s shoulders to see.
Tony stayed there, not moving, and Heather’s struggles gradually stopped. I could see that she was still breathing, so there must have been just enough room around his cock to suck air into her lungs.
Lance’s thrusts were getting faster, his hips slapping against her upraised ass. He started to play with her clit again, two fingers rubbing up and down the sides of the hood, and Heather squirmed around him, twisting her hips and pushing back against him. Slowly, I saw her mouth come to life again, her cheeks hollowing as she started to suck on Tony’s cock. He began to move as well, not drawing all the way out of her throat but moving slowly within it.
After a moment or two, Heather seemed to relax, her eyes fluttering closed again. With one cock pumping steadily into her moist pussy, another slowly fucking her throat and two men caressing her breasts, my wife gave herself up to it, passively submitting to them. And I could see why—I’d watched her often enough, both at home with me and over the last few weeks, to know the tell-tale signs of an impending orgasm. From the way she was starting to tremble, it was going to be a big one when it arrived. I dreaded to think what effect it would have on the men around her, to see her shudder and clench and writhe in ecstasy.
Both men were moving faster, now. Lance was thrusting into her hard, pushing her legs back so that they were beyond vertical, his face taut with the effort of holding back. Tony was—I cringed—fucking her face. There was no other phrase to describe it. His hips were lunging at her mouth, his shining cock pumping in and out between her stretched lips. It wasn’t loving or gentle…and yet as I watched, Heather started to writhe.
“She likes it,” I heard one guy say.
“She fucking loves it,” another answered.
I wanted to deny it. I wanted to smash the laptop and make sure it was destroyed, this time. But I could hear her moaning around the cock in her mouth, see how hard her nipples had become under their fingers, hear her wetness as Lance drove into her. My wife was loving what they were doing to her.
I realized I was rubbing myself through my jeans.
God, no. Not while they were doing this to her!
And then Lance groaned and pushed in so deep that Heather gave a little jerk. I knew he was deliberately going as deep as he could. I could imagine that thick, rubbery head nestled right up against her delicate wall, the tip poking against the tiny, secret hole that led to her womb….
He gave a growl of victory and I saw his hips jerk. Heather bucked and thrashed in pleasure as she felt the thick spurts against her sensitive membrane, relishing the sensation because she thought she was protected. But I knew better…and so did Lance. When he slowly pulled out of her, he made sure to glance at the laptop. His sneer was forever burned into my mind, along with the sight of his cum trickling from between my wife’s soft, pink pussy lips.
She went to lower her legs, but before she could two big, black hands grabbed her ankles. I saw her tense in shock—perhaps her first realization that it wasn’t going to be just Lance who fucked her. At that moment, Tony grunted and went still, his groin right up against her face. Heather shuddered and writhed, and it took me a second to work out that he was coming while buried deep in her throat, the warm liquid shooting straight down towards her stomach and giving her no choice but to swallow.
He withdrew, his sticky cock slapping against her lips, and immediately Heather raised her head to see who was standing in front of her. She was just in time to see the black guy who’d gone down on her lowering his jeans.
She swallowed, trying to speak. “I—God, I—I’m not—” She looked around her at the gathered men. “I’m not like that.”
Lance was fastening up his jeans. “Yes you are, Heather.”
Tony traced her lips with his fingers. “Tell us you don’t want it.”
She opened her mouth to speak, and then hesitated. I could see the line of her gaze, and it ended in the throbbing black cock that was pointing straight at her pussy. “I—” She went quiet.
“That’s what I thought. Slut.” And Tony pushed another man towards her mouth. Her head was already being tipped back to take the next cock when the black guy entered her.
It became a procession. A man would finish in her pussy and as soon as he’d withdrawn, another would take his place. Her mouth was never empty, her lips and cheeks shining with cum. Her breasts soon bore red handprints from squeezing hands and pinching fingers. Her legs must have ached from being pointed up to the ceiling for so long.
After a half hour, they turned her over. Her dress was just a stained wad of fabric around her waist by now, so they stripped it off her. Naked except for her shoes, they bent her over the counter, letting her head project off the far side so that she could suck one man while another fucked her. Another few took her like that, and then the first man chose to take her ass, instead. When she felt the lube at her anus, I saw her try to turn her head—perhaps to protest, perhaps to see who it was. But her mouth was wrapped around a hard shaft, and within seconds the man had pushed his way inside her and was slowly filling her, and she gradually began to push her hips back against him while grinding her clit against the counter. She came again while he fucked her, her mouth free
of cock for a moment, her high cries echoing around the room.
After that, everyone wanted to fuck her there.
They made her kneel on the floor, at one point, and I lost sight of her as they surrounded her. They seemed to be getting her to suck them hard again, dragging her from one cock to another. Then they lifted her onto the pool table and I could see nothing until Lance thoughtfully turned the laptop around. She was kneeling atop one man, his cock thrusting up into her pussy. Another man was in her ass and a third knelt next to them, twisting her head to the side so that she could suck his cock.
That was when I came—watching my wife take three cocks at once. My shame was almost as strong as my lust as the orgasm hit me. Almost.
When they’d finished, they left her lying on the pool table. Her breasts and face shone where men had shot their loads across them rather than waiting for their turn. Thick, white cum oozed from her pussy and ass, trickling down her thighs. I’d lost count of how many men had shot inside her pussy, but I knew it was at least six.
The last thing I saw, as Lance shut the lid of the laptop and cut off my view, was Heather raising her head to look disbelievingly down at her naked body. Asking herself, perhaps, what she’d become.
I looked down at myself, at my limp cock sticky against my thigh, and asked myself the same question.
***
Heather arrived home the next day. She was full of smiles and hugs and talked excitedly about the things she’d done on the rig…but she never mentioned her going away party. And I couldn’t tell her I knew, without explaining about Lance’s tricks and everything that had gone on behind the scenes. I would have had to tell her that she’d been talking to a virtual stranger the whole time, that she’d done all of those things without my okay…and just as Lance had said, that would have killed her.
I couldn’t tell her that I’d watched her be gang banged. Or that I’d watched the video Lance had posted on the hidden forum again and again the next day. I expected Lance to cut off my access as soon as Heather was gone but, oddly, he didn’t. I got to read all the comments from the crew the next morning. All of them wanted to know when they could get a new female guest, with an equally stupid husband.
A few weeks went by. Our sex life was…different. Not worse, but not better, either. In theory, I knew what Heather wanted. The problem was that I still couldn’t give it to her—I was okay with seeing her treated like a slut by other men—loved it, in fact. But I couldn’t do that to her myself, however hard I tried. It just wasn’t in my personality.
Worse, Heather now believed that there were no limits on her as far as cheating went. She was eager to start introducing new men into our bedroom, and when she began to consider her next work assignment there wasn’t even a discussion about me coming with her—I’d stay at home and watch. Of course, this time there’d be no Lance—it really would be me on the other end of the line. But the damage was done—I couldn’t now reign her back in without giving her an explanation and that would mean the truth would have to come out. I’d thought that Lance was making me a cuckold for as long as Heather was on the rig, but what he’d actually done was much cleverer—he’d made me a cuckold for life.
The other side of it was me coming to terms with my own nature. I hated the idea of Heather thinking that I liked seeing her with other men, but I couldn’t deny it was true. I’d been conflicted the whole time she was on the rig, caught between humiliation and arousal; now, I was forced to accept my role and I knew I’d be humiliated and aroused in equal measure. I just didn’t have a choice, anymore, in how far things went.
And then we discovered Heather was pregnant.
She was incredulous at first, but eventually accepted that the contraceptive injection on the rig must not have worked. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it had all been a lie. Without doing a paternity test on every man on the rig—many of whom had by then moved on to different jobs on rigs around the world—we’d never know who the father was. Heather wanted to keep the baby, but we didn’t know whether we should pretend it was mine or not. We both knew she’d fucked a black guy as well as a couple of Hispanic men during the gang bang. But since Heather didn’t know I knew, and I couldn’t admit to it, we couldn’t talk about it. Eventually, we just told our friends and neighbors the baby was mine and hoped for the best.
Nine months later, when the baby arrived, we both breathed a sigh of relief. The baby was white, with mahogany hair that could almost have been Heather’s…although it was a shade lighter. And his eyes were a distinctive dark green.
I stared at the miniature version of Lance. I knew I’d love him, but he was going to be a reminder of what had happened for the rest of my life.
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Extract: Cuckolded By My Boss
My wife and I work for the same company. Our problems started when the new, black CEO made me redundant. I came up with a plan to get my revenge and set my wife and I up for life. I convinced her to lead him on, and I planned to film him kissing her and sue his ass for sexual harassment.
It all went horribly wrong. Things went too far, and my boss found out about my plan. Suddenly, the tables were turned—now my boss was determined to fuck my wife and make me watch. Not just once, but again and again, in one degrading, humiliating situation after another. I never guessed that my beautiful, shy wife longed to be treated like a slut, or that once she’d had a taste of my black boss’s cock, I’d never be enough for her again….
“Yes, Paul. You want me to show you? Let’s have a little demonstration. Go to the men’s room, right now. Get in a stall.”
What? Why did he want me to go to the men’s room? Did he mean to fuck her here, while I waited?
“Go!” His expression told me he wasn’t kidding.
“Wait,” I said. “Kristina’s not on the pill!”
He just laughed. Clearly he’d already figured that out from her desperate pleading the night before. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll get her knocked up for you, Paul. How would that be?”
I stared at him, horrified. “No!”
“Oh yeah. I’ll make sure to shoot right on target. How about a nice big black baby to explain to all your neighbors? Doesn’t bother me – I’ll be at some other company long before she ever even begins to show. But you’ll be there for it, Paul. You’ll watch that tight little tummy of hers swell up like a balloon. Those ripe titties that hang down just the right amount? Oh, they’re going to be big, Paul; they’re going to be swollen with milk for junior. Everywhere you go, people are going to be congratulating you on that big bump under her dress, but you’ll know it’s mine. And when she squeezes out that black baby, everybody else is going to know it, too. They’re going to know you weren’t man enough to stop your wife straying.”
He smirked up at me, waiting for my reaction. I knew I’d gone pale. I felt like I was going to throw up. Without a word, I turned and marched from his office, and then straight through the outer one, past a worried-looking Kristina.
Like everything else in the company, the men’s room hadn’t had much money spent on it. It was clean enough, but everything looked…cheap. Cracked tiles that should have been replaced. Dripping faucets. The doors on the stalls were lightweight and flimsy, and probably had
n’t fit well into their frames even when they were new.
The place was empty. I stepped into a stall, closing the door but not locking it. What was happening, back in the office? Had he already ordered her to his desk? Was he taking her clothes off right now? My hands knotted in my hair as I ran through the possibilities. On the desk again? Over the desk? Why wasn’t he making me watch, this time?
I heard someone enter the room. No, two people. But there was something weird: only one of them had the heavy footsteps of a man. The other was….
“We can’t!” Kristina said in a low hiss. “Deon, please!”
He shushed her. “In here.”
I heard them go into the stall next to mine. Nausea rose inside me. I thought of the Kristina I knew, the gentle, shy woman who baked mint choc-chip cookies for fundraisers, who campaigned on women’s issues, who had a goddamn degree, for pity’s sake! And he was going to fuck her in the men’s room: as if that’s all she was worth! Worse, he was deliberately risking getting caught. If they were seen or heard, the whole office would know Deon was fucking my wife.
I could hear Kristina weakly protesting, but he silenced her with another kiss. I recognized the low growl in her throat as she melted under his lips, and then the sound of buttons opening. He was unbuttoning her blouse. Then I heard the elastic rasp of her bra being unfastened.
“On your knees, Kristina,” he told her. She must have hesitated, because he repeated it. He wasn’t bothering to whisper: he wanted me to hear. I heard his zipper open. He was going to make her blow him: on her knees, in the men’s room. He was treating her like a whore.
Kristina had never much liked giving head. She’d do it for me, very occasionally. But she’d never been enthusiastic about it. Now, though, I could hear her licking him, and I could swear there was a low moan in her throat, as if she was getting as much pleasure from it as he was. The wall of the stall shook briefly, and I realized Deon had braced his hands either side of him.
Cuckolded- My Wife on the Oil Rig Page 10