Rig Days Ch. 01

Story Info
A young woman's sexually charged start to a job on a rig.
8.4k words
3.95
17.5k
18
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

I was so excited. I'd finished my engineering degree and graduated with honours, and had now been accepted for a dream job; working offshore on one of the drilling rigs. The pay was great, the food was free, and I'd only have to work half the year on a 4 week rotation. As a young single girl I'd have 4 weeks to go on holiday, go shopping, go out, whatever I wanted! I'd also be able to buy a house with the money I'd be making, finally able to move out of my sharehouse.

I was due to fly out in the morning for my first swing. I'd packed my bags and was as ready as ever. I could hardly sleep that night, alternating between worrying that I'd forgotten something, or wasn't ready, and excitement at my first proper job. In the end I had to masturbate myself to sleep. It was pleasurable, but more something to do to calm my nerves than anything.

In the morning I woke to the sound of my alarm going off. 4:00am. Ugh. Normally I'd be heading to bed at this time, not waking up and dressing for work. Still, I showered and dressed, jumped in the taxi, and headed off to the airport. The taxi driver was pretty useless so I had to be alert. By the time I reached the airport I was wrecked. I checked in, hoping to get a window seat, but finding myself squished in the middle of a group of 3. It was only a 2 hour flight so I didn't mind too much. In time I'd be able to have my pick of the seats, thanks to frequent flying and the loyalty program. Only trouble was everyone else on the flight was doing the same thing, so my silver membership didn't count for squat.

I was almost through security when a guard came up to me. He was tall, and reasonably good looking. I wasn't sure if I was in trouble, or if he just wanted my number. I was a fairly hot young woman after all. I worked hard on my figure with regular workouts, and my sweat had given me shapely legs, a rock hard butt, and a stomach most men would have been proud of. My breasts were a good size without being ridiculous. My blonde hair and blue eyes usually had people mistaking me for a Nordic princess. Still, I wasn't sure what this guard wanted.

I stood tall as he approached, I had nothing to hide and had done nothing wrong. Plus I'd learned men like confidence, so it worked in either scenario.

"Miss Stacey...Kasa...Kazo..."

"Kasalokovic" I helped him.

"Yes. Miss Kasolokovic. Can you please come with me?"

"Kas-a-lokovic"

"This way please."

Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. What was it? What had I done? Had someone slipped something into my bags when I wasn't looking? Had I broken some rule of the company? I couldn't afford to miss this flight, I'd lose my job! All these thoughts flashed through my head as I was led through an inconspicous door off to one side.

I gulped as I went through the door. On the other side was a small room, about 6m square, with a desk in the middle. Two chairs were in the room. Another door was on the other side. It opened, and a female guard stepped through. I felt a little relieved...at least I wasn't going to be raped. Then I remembered they have to have a female present for strip searches...is that what this was? Was I going to have to strip off in front of these two? My mind started to think about that possibility. Being forced to raise my arms while this tall man pulled my pink sports top over my head, revealing my red lace bra. My breathing would be getting faster, my chest would probably be heaving. Then he'd probably hook a finger in each side of my Activewear leggings, peeling them down my legs, his face inches from my sheer red thong. I'd wonder if he could smell my excitement in this situation. Next he'd get me to lean forward and put my hands on the desk. He'd pat me down while she watched. I wonder if she enjoyed seeing young girls go through this. I wonder what underwear she's wearing. I wonder if it's wet.

After he'd patted me down he'd probably find some excuse to go further. My bra would get unclipped and drop to the floor. My 22 year old breasts would hang free. He'd feel them of course, on the pretense of moving them around to make sure there's nothing hiding. He might even notice my nipples were hard.

Would he pull my thong down, or just cut it off? His fingers on the waistband say they'd be pulled down. I'd be wet by now, scared but wet, so of course the crotch would stick. As I step out of them he'd get me to spread my legs. My pussy would be exposed. He'd have to see that I was horny. My lips get very wet when I'm horny. And spread. Exposing my clit. Which would of course betray me, standing proud, telling the world I'm enjoying this. I'd be made to look forward at the woman. She'd have to be wet. Watching an innocent young woman forced to strip for this tall, handsome, muscular man.

He'd spread my ass cheeks of course, checking out my rosebud. He'd see it was tight, but probably loosening in the excitement. I love anal play. Would he go for that first, or jam two fingers up my cunt? Probably cunt first. I'd hold back an orgasm as he forced his way in, but only just succeed. The cold lube on my asshole would be the next thing I felt, then a finger rubbing it around. Why do guys always rub it around the hole, not push it in? Then the tip would go in. I'd hold back a moan. He'd push it further. I'd take it no problem, probably arousing his suspicion further. Can you turn on a suspicion, or just arouse it? Do suspicions get horny too?

A second finger would enter my ass. They always want two. They'd feel around inside me, stretching me, looking for whatever it was they thought I had. Maybe they'd plant something? Maybe he'd push something up my ass? A condom? Or is that his dick?

"Miss Kasolokovic!"

I came back to the present quickly. The woman was talking to me.

"Sorry if we frightened you dear. You've been upgraded to first class, here's your new tickets. Perk of your first trip with this company. Through this door you'll find the first class lounge. I hope you enjoy your flight." I felt all the emotions at once. Relief. Gratitude. Amazement. Excitement. Disappointment. Lust. Disbelief.

Wait. Disappointment? Was I really so horny that I wanted this big muscular guard to violate me while this woman watched? I walked through to the first class lounge in some kind of daze. As I took a seat a waitress came over to take my order. Breathless, I asked for some more coffee and some pastries. As soon as she left I went to the bathroom to take stock.

The bathroom was very lavish. High ceilings. Marble everywhere. Massive cubicles. With mirrors in them. Spotlessly clean. I locked myself in a cubicle and looked in the mirror. My nipples were hard. Poking through the t-shirt hard. My crotch didn't appear to be damp, thankfully. I pulled my pants down halfway just to check. My thong was wet through. I'd got to it just in time to save my leggings, but the thong was soaked. I pulled it down. Sure enough my pussy was swollen, open, and wet. There was my clit standing tall, begging for attention. I checked my phone. I had an hour before my flight. Plenty of time.

I carefully removed my clothes, folding them and putting them on the bench. Then stood in front of the mirror, a horny blonde who needed to cum. I closed the toilet seat, then put one foot on it. Checking myself in the mirror I looked hot. I grabbed my phone and took a photo. I struck another pose, looking back over my shoulder at the mirror, and snapped again. I rested my butt cheeks on the edge of the toilet seat and spread my legs. Snap. I teased my clit with my fingers. Snap. Pinch a nipple. Snap. Push two fingers in. Snap. Work my pussy over. Snap. Thrust in and out. Snap. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Pull my fingers out, watch the juice drip off them. Snap. Imagine the guard standing in the corner. Snap. Imagine it's his fingers inside me. Snap. Violating me. Snap. Making me cum. Spasm. My cunt clamping onto my/his fingers. Spasm. Snap. His big cock in front of my face. Snap. His cum landing on my tits. Snap. Me licking it off. Snap.

I slowly got myself back together, and stood up. There was a pool of grool on the toilet seat, slowly dripping onto the floor. I cleaned it, and myself, up with some toilet paper. God I'd needed that. That's what I get for avoiding men for 3 months while busy with graduation. Oh well. I dressed and put my phone away, then checked myself in the mirror. I looked fine. Great in fact. A bit of deodorant would hide the sex smell. I went back out to the lounge and resumed my seat. My waitress brought the food and coffee over, which I was grateful for. She smiled and winked at me. Did she know something? Oh well. She was hot and young, I'm sure she's done the same before. If she knew I hoped it made her horny. Maybe she'd have to do the same when she went on a break.

I finished my meal and sat sipping my coffee. What was first class like I wonder? Would they throw me out for not wearing the right clothes? I bet it was full of stuffy old white men who would just leer at me. Ughhh. Lecherous old men. They'd probably have to sit down if I flashed my tits at them. Probably have a heart attack if I let them touch my pussy.

The waitress came past again. Still smiling that smile that suggests she knows something. She replaced my coffee, winked again, then disappeared towards the bathroom. What on earth? Does she want me to follow her? She's hot, and I'm not against eating pussy, but I'm not about to give it up just for a wink. Am I?

I looked at the coffee cup. There was something written on the napkin. I unfolded it, and saw a simple message. 'Saw you in the bathroom, meet me there if you want to see me.' Hmmm. Looks like she does know, and needs some help. My curiosity was rising. I checked the time. Still 30 minutes until boarding. One quick peek couldn't hurt. I finished my coffee and stood up.

As I entered the bathroom I could see the waitress was there already. Her blouse was open, her breasts on display. Her bra was a simple push-up, basically a shelf for her tits. Both nipples were pierced with a bar. Her black skirt was bunched around her waist. What were her panties made of? Were they pearls? Yes, a string of pearls running all the way from front to back, past her hard clit, between her swollen lips, and out of view. Her skin was slightly dark, as though there was latino blood in her.

"Thankyou for coming. I saw you before, sorry for spying, but you were moaning quite loudly. I had to have a look. You looked very sexy doing that, it was quite a show And since you have given me a show, now I will give you a show."

"No it's fine, you're very sexy, but I'm trying to calm myself down, not work myself up. If I watch you masturbate then I'm going to need release too, and then I'll miss my flight. Thank you, but I must decline." I was a little torn internally as she did have a great body, but the excitement of a first class flight to work was overriding my natural libido. Thank goodness I'd managed to cum earlier though, as otherwise I'm not sure I would have been as strong.

"Please, you must help me get off. These pearls", she motioned to her crotch "they drive me wild. I would rather not wear them to work as they are too distracting, but they are part of the uniform. I will lose my job if I don't. Please, just touch my breasts, at least give me that."

Really? This woman expects you to believe that it's part of the uniform? As if a boss would ever perform, or be allowed to perform, random panty checks as part of his daily routine. I said as much to the girl.

"Who told you that was part of the uniform? That seems a little prescriptive."

"It was one of the chefs, Jimmy. He said the last 3 waitresses who got fired from here all broke that rule. I thanked him and changed right away. He also makes me show him every day. It's quite demeaning, but I need this job."

Jimmy sounds like a perverted asshole. Kudos to him for getting away with it for so long, but I hated it when guys did stuff like this.

"Jimmy lied to you, or was playing a prank. Either way, you don't need to wear those panties for work. Just take them off."

She did as she was told, still unsure as to whether to believe me, but desperate to be able to concentrate on her work.

"Hopefully now you'll be more comfortable. And tell Jimmy to go eat a dick. If he gives you any more trouble just go to the manager, or one of the security guards. Once you explain the situation they'll be on your side for sure. Jimmy would be in a lot of trouble if anyone in power found out."

The girl straightened her uniform and composed herself. "Thankyou so much for helping me. And for the show before. If your job doesn't work out you should try being a stripper. I think you'd be excellent at it."

I smiled at the compliment. I had been a stripper before. During second year university I needed a job that had low hours and high pay, and stripping fit the bill. It was easy work really. Take your clothes off, serve drinks, get ogled by guys, get dressed and go home. There had been one or two occasions where things had got out of hand, but usually it was just guys trying to get a free feel. Plus being in that situation made me horny as hell. Sometimes I'd do 2-3 parties in an evening and the third one always got the best show. If I didn't cum during the show then I'd usually fuck the best man. People might call that slutty, but to me they were just a dick, just a sex toy, being used to get me off. No different to the guys. I always got a great tip on those nights.

I checked myself in the bathroom mirror then heard the boarding call over the PA. I made my way back out of the bathroom, then went to get on my flight. Being first class I got my own little airbridge. A hostess showed me to my seat (a window!) then gave me the menu, showed me how to operate the seat (that folded flat into a bed!), and generally made sure I was comfortable. Wow. This was incredible. I'd never seen anything like it. I didn't think airlines even did this sort of thing anymore.

After she'd left I looked around. The majority of the other travellers up here were old, rich white guys, as I'd expected. There were a few younger men here too, but they looked like sharks, focussed on their careers with their heads up their asses. There were only two women in this area. One was clearly a trophy wife. Her husband was fat and balding, while she was a lot like me, only more...plastic. Yes, that's the word. More plastic than I was. The other woman was around 40. Her face looked quite soft, but there was a hardness to her eyes that showed she could take care of herself, and had had to put up with a lot to get where she was. She wore an elegant dress that was just a touch too classy for a regular office, but not dressy enough to be an evening gown. She looked great in it. She was busy typing away on her laptop, probably putting together a repot or presentation, or just reviewing her emails. Mrs Plastic was simpering over her husband, pouring it on a little thick for my liking. Mr Balding had his hand on her inner thigh, idly running it up and down. Mrs Plastic was wearing what could best be described as a tennis outfit, all hot pink, with a skirt that was a little short. Mr Balding saw me watching and whispered something to his wife. She faked a smile and opened her legs a little. From where I sat I could see she was wearing a sheer white thong. Mr Balding leered at me as he rubbed his fingers across the fabric, then slipped one inside. I saw the other woman roll her eyes in disgust as I turned away. He chuckled and drew the curtains around them, leaving a small gap that faced me directly. This sure was going to be an interesting flight.

I grabbed my phone and took a few selfies. The hostess came past and noticed what I was doing.

"First time in first class Miss Kasalokovic?"

I nodded, impressed that she'd got my name right first time and without hesitation. I liked people who were good at their job, and she clearly was.

"Would you like me to take a photo of you in your private area?"

"That would be great, thanks. How should I sit?"

The hostess got me to laze back in my chair with my hands behind my head. She said it was to make me look relaxed. I'm pretty sure she just wanted to get a good look at my breasts. She crooked my nearside knee up on the seat. With the other leg stretched out long I felt a little exposed. My pants were pulled tight against my crotch. I hoped I didn't have a camel-toe showing. I smiled and tried to look relaxed as she took some photos.

"I'll just review these to make sure they're ok."

I kept the pose just in case she wanted to retake the photos. She was scrolling back through the photos for a while, which made me wonder how many she'd taken. Then I realised what the previous photos on my phone were. Me in a toilet. Posing. Cumming. Oh my god! I wanted to die of embarrassment.

"That's ok, I'm sure they're fine. Thanks!" I held out my hand, trying to hurry her up.

"They certainly are fine. Sorry, just had to check that they were all ok." She handed the phone back and smiled at me. Another person giving me a 'I've seen your cum face' smile. Great. Two in one day. I mean, plenty of people have seen it. But usually I'm expecting them to, and I get to see theirs as well.

"If there's anything I can do to make your flight more comfortable, let me know. If you'd like to be left undisturbed, hang this outside of your curtain", she motioned at a card, "and we'll leave you alone."

"Thanks" I smiled back. I composed myself a little then glanced back at Mrs Plastic. She was busy kissing her husbands neck. His hands were busy under her thong. His smile was a little off-putting, but I was curious as to how far this would go. He whispered again to his wife, and she spread her legs wider. He deftly pulled her thong to one side, then spread her lips. They were puffy and swollen. Clearly Mrs Plastic gets quite turned on being molested in front of a young woman. I was a little shocked that they were being so brazen, but at the same time it was only me who could see them. I guess money and power let you get away with a lot.

"Ladies and gentleman, this is your captain speaking."

The crackle of the PA system stopped me being drawn in further. I closed my curtain. I heard Mr Balding laugh as I did. The captain gave his usual altitude, ETA and thankyou speech, and I settled in to enjoy the flight.

I awoke with a bump. We'd landed. Despite 2 coffees and an orgasm that morning, I'd fallen asleep and missed most of the first class experience. I hadn't even had time to enjoy the food! Damn!

I looked out the window. Red dirt everywhere. As far as the eye could see. A couple of buildings off in the distance must be town. And that shed. Was that the airport? It looked like an old farm shed. Rusty. Dirty. Bits hanging off. And yet there was a baggage carousel. And a check-in/out desk. Wow. Talk about middle of nowhere, and a big step down from the first class cabin I'd just had. Suddenly I felt very alone. The reality of where I was, and where I was going, was sinking in.

I walked numbly over to the baggage carousel.

"Cheer up Miss. The locashen's a bet shet, bet the peeple are fentestec." I looked around. Behind me was a big cheerful man from New Zealand. His grin couldn't have been any wider if it tried.

"Thanks. I've just realised I know no-one out here, and I'm about to head to a rig where I'll know even less people."

"I'm Harry. Now you know me." His smile got wider, showing me his white teeth. He was a big burly man, but I knew from experience that Kiwi's (the affectionate Australian term for them) were some of the nicest and friendliest people on earth.

I smiled at him.

"I'm Stacey. Lovely to meet you."

"First time? It's ok, you get used to it. It's just a bit different."