Keely 3, 004 (Patreon)

Mags had class with Keely on Tuesday, and said everything seemed okay. Their friendship seemed the same she said, Keely happy and bubbly, her normal self. Maggie apologized for being a downer, she told him, and Keely said she got it. He didn’t ask Maggie if they’d talked about them all getting naked together and fooling around. Maggie would tell him if she wanted. Might be saving it for the bedroom sometime, so he didn’t want to wreck it.

After Mags’ Advanced Antitrust lecture on Thursday, five days after ‘the event,’ he met up with Maggie and Keely at the Cambridge Café on Mt. Auburn to have lunch like they would normally do. He showed up late, and Mags and Keely already had a table near the back on the second floor, their favorite spot when they could get it. The two of them sat on the semicircular couch under the shaped arch that framed a tall window looking out over a park behind the street front.

It was crazy to see the two of them together. Two smoking hot girls who he knew had messed around with each other this past weekend. He knew he’d see them when he came in, was prepared, but still, coming up the stairs his eyes lit up when he saw them together and it took control to stop the boyish excitement showing on his face.

The girls had their book bags on the floor, coffee cups on the table in front of the couch. Mags wore a slim black turtleneck and a gold watch, Keely wore wide legged slacks and zip up boots, the slacks with an oversized herringbone pattern. Up top, a fuzzy black turtleneck and a light jacket in black. And, shit, she had her hair tied up and he liked when she had her hair tied up. All those ginger curls stacked up on top of her head, and showing off her thin white neck.

And why the fuck did it have to happen like this? Last week it was just him and Maggie, not a care in the world, Max and Keely sailing along like he’d hoped they would. And now Maggie wanted another detour. But, holy Christ, what kind of man would he be if he didn’t want this detour, too? Sex with Keely? Yes, please.

“Hey, you two,” he said, throwing himself down opposite them on the upholstered chair and putting the soles of his sneakers on the table edge careful not to jostle their coffees.

Maggie said, “You’re late.”

“Ten minutes, max,” he said. “I think you guys were early. This my coffee?”

Keely said, “Who else would we order coffee for?”

“Thanks,” he said, leaned and sipped his coffee.

Maggie smiled, watching him, and said, “I ordered you a Chicken Club, too.”

“Awesome. Extra smoked bacon?”

“Yes, extra smoked bacon,” she said narrowing her eyes and raising her eyebrows.

He got it. Stood then, stepped around the table and kissed her. Made a show of it, holding the back of her neck and letting his mouth linger on hers while Keely watched them, making funny faces.

“You’re the best,” he told her.

Maggie lounged now, smiling at him still. It made him wonder what she was thinking. Was she thinking dirty things like him too? She was the one who messed around. And it was her messing around with Keely that had now opened up some kind of mysterious doorway in his future-wife’s brain. More curiosity. And Maggie’s curiosity was the hottest thing in the world. He rubbed his palms on the knees of his gray corduroys, eyeing the two girls, and trying not to look like he was thinking about them naked in bed together. Just be cool.

They talked about class, talked about Michigan. Didn’t talk about what the two of them had done together. That would be something no one would bring up. Maggie said Keely wasn’t into it. Just a one time thing. And that’s all it should be, and yet . . .

And yet Maggie had curiosity.

He said, “How is Maximilian?”

Before Keely could answer, Maggie said, “She’s going to the city on the weekend to see him.”

“You two love birds,” he said, “can’t get enough of each other.”

“I know,” Keely said, “I just saw him last weekend.”

“Give him a kiss for me,” he said.

The waitress arrived with their food and they ate and joked around a lot. But every move Keely made now was attracting his eye. She was super feminine. Maggie was feminine, too, but in a whole different way. Graceful, quiet, distinguished. And a certain cutting look in her eyes these days that he thought she was purposely developing. A future lawyer. But Keely was loud and brash, full figured. Big tits, big hips. And what a fuck.

Holy shit, what an awful thing to think.

It had been easy to push all that down—the dirty thoughts about Keely—because Maggie would not want to be aware of the things they’d done. When she first discovered he had a past with Keely, things had not been good. Got a little cold in the bedroom for a few nights.

That particular box of secrets was kept locked. But now Maggie had gone and opened it herself. Poking around, not to give him trouble, but she wanted to see what was inside. He’d always teased about completing her around-the-world tour sexual education with a girl-on-girl night. It never happened.

He’d done things to Maggie that made her toes curl. Max, too, the two of them working together on her. For a whole year the two of them had just about annihilated this smart, beautiful girl who no one would guess was a secret sex demon. But they’d never got the girl thing to happen.

Sitting with them now made him think of being back at Farm. That last year, when the shit blew up. And after it finally got sorted, those crazy feelings in his heart. The regret, the shame, that awful pounding lust, and the first time he figured he actually felt love. There’d been times before, but when he got feelings for Maggie he knew those other times were not the same.

Their Thursday lunches only went an hour. From 2-4 Maggie had Cornel West’s class on American Democracy. Once she would go, he and Keely would hang for fifteen then go off their separate ways.

Mags got her things together, saying, “You guys want anything else?” They said no, and she said she’d pay the tab on the way out.

Then she rose and slung her bag over her shoulder. She stooped and hugged Keely. Their cheeks touched and Maggie made a kissing sound. Keely’s pale hands went to Maggie’s waist and patted her. They came apart but the sight of them like that just drove him wild. Maggie and Keely didn’t usually say bye that way. They’d hugged plenty before (and, yeah, he’d thought about them doing it naked), but this closeness—though mild—was new. New, and he liked it a lot.

When it was his turn he refrained from whispering in her ear how hot it was to see them practically kiss. It would be rude, Maggie wouldn’t like it, and eagle-eyed Keely would likely catch him on it.

They kissed again and he rested his hand above her hip, thumb caressing her stomach. “See you tonight,” he said. “What do you want to do for dinner?”

She stood, said, “I just ate, baby. Dinner’s a long time from now. I’ll be back at seven—”

“I’ve got basketball.”

“You going out with the guys after?”

“Nah, I’ll be home. Text me, maybe I’ll bring dinner back.”

Maggie waved to Keely, said bye again, and they watched her head down the stairs.

Now it was just the two of them at the table looking at each other. When Maggie left, he would always move over to join Keely, sit on the same side so they could people watch. It would be weird not to do it now, so he did.

The nerves were like fucking high school, back when he went to great lengths not to let people close. To hide his intentions, to look cool.

All he could think was Keely knew how lusty his thoughts were. “Hey,” he said, sitting next to her now. “What’d you think of Max’s mom?”

“She was very sweet,” Keely said.

“Maggie said she was looking good.”

“I don’t know what she was like before, but she seemed all right. She was happy for everyone to be there.”

“I bet Max was super stoked to have her meet you.”

Keely made a funny, frustrated sound, ran her nails through her hair, scratching at her scalp. He could smell her shampoo and her perfume. He watched the paleness of her hand, and looked at her glossy nails. Clear coat, nicely trimmed. He wondered if Max was paying for her manicures. Pedicures, too, probably. Max had things he liked. And he liked to take care of his girl. He could imagine Max sending her out to spa days, pampering her. He tried not to ask about their sex life, but Max would indulge him without even prompting. Saying some of the things they did, saying what an incredible fuck she was. And he would keep his mouth shut, wouldn’t say anything that would hurt Max’s feelings, accidentally reminding his friend he knew how good a fuck she was.

“He was,” she said. “He was kind of tense and weird. But I really liked seeing where he grew up.”

“See where that magic came from.”

She smiled and leaned back. They sat close, looking at each other. The light fell on her sweet, freckled face and those deep but bright green eyes of hers regarded him. There was a fierce intelligence there. Just like Maggie. Smart girls were so fucking hot, but you had to be on your best behavior.

“My magic man’s taking me to the opera this weekend.”

“Don’t tell Maggie, she’ll be jealous.”

“She already knows,” she said flicking back hair from her face.

Keely’d been a hot freshman fuck. Way more tiger than he expected when she’d come on to him at Altieri’s. Got her back to the dorm room and banged her brains out. She was a screamer. Super vocal. He could remember the smell of her shampoo then, too. She’d reeked of whiskey and perfume and shampoo that first night he fucked her. They’d gone for a few more rounds over the next couple days, but then he moved on. She was way too young. Plus, the ‘thing’ happened with Maggie.

He wondered if it hadn’t been for Max and Maggie’s kink if he would’ve hooked up with Keely again. If he’d run into her out at Farmingham or somewhere, maybe at the bar or something, it would be pretty likely they’d end up back in bed again. She sucked cock like crazy. No inhibition. One of those girls. The hottest thing was watching her big tits bounce when you fucked her, and watching her mouth make all those high-pitched sex squeaks. She panted and moaned with a fucking Irish accent. God damn, she was hot.

And, Jesus, now he was getting a hard on thinking about Keely this way, which he shouldn’t be doing. They should wait till Max asked. No, that was the plan. That was what they were doing. But right now sitting next to her in the café, all he could think about was angling. Setting things up. Putting it in her head.

“Oh shoot,” she said, leaning forward, saying, “I meant to give her back her CD.”

He laughed. “CD?”

“It’s the opera we’re going to, Attila. Maggie said I had to listen to the best she’s heard it. Florence, 1972 . . .”

Knees out wide, she dipped down to reach through her bag. The act of sitting forward that way made her jacket and sweater ride up.

Into her book bag, she said, “It’s not on Spotify or anything, so she loaned me the CD, I have an old Mac that plays CDs . . .”

The way he lounged on the couch, he could see the pale stripe of naked Keely flesh above her waistband. The small of her back. Could imagine kissing her there, and holding her waist and fucking her from behind.

His cock grew full hard in the middle of the Cambridge Café.