Maggie, Book 2, Chapter 3 (Patreon)

Both Ken and Cole noticed Max’s discomfort.

Cole scratched his cheek, said to Ken, “Boy, this place is stressful. What do you do to calm your nerves?”

Ken said, “Well, there’s a bar in the living room.”

Cole said, Will you lead the way?”

“I will, sir,” Ken answered and he headed towards the arch that led to the hall.

“We’ll catch up,” Maggie said quietly as they walked out. They acknowledged her, left laughing about something Cole said. Max watched them go down the hall and disappear under a different arch. He sighed, turned to Maggie and looked at her a moment. She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, shrugged.

“Why did your mom invite him?” he asked her.

Maggie pushed herself to one side of the chair and she pat the edge for him to come and join her. When he sat down she squirmed next to him in the tight space and she slipped a bent leg up on to his lap and she faced him.

“She doesn’t know, Max. You think she knows?”

“Right,” he agreed.

Her hand came to his face and she stroked his cheek and tried to get him to look in her eyes. “You have a baby face,” she said.

“I hate shaving,” he murmured.

She kissed his cheek.

He asked her, “Is this...how weird is this for you?”

“Lee? Pretty weird. I wish Ken hadn’t said anything. It makes it weirder.”

“Why?”

She groaned and she put her forehead against his shoulder. “He’s...” she started to laugh.

“What?”

“He’s not very...cool.”

“Aw, Maggie,” he laughed and he squeezed her arm and made her close her eyes.

“I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” he said.

“I was embarrassed before. I never told you...something...”

“Yeah?”

She hesitated, worked her mouth around. At last, said, “You’re my only...Lee is the only other boy I slept with.”

“What?” He feigned surprise, horrified at the thought of her finding out he had hid in her closet.

“You and Lee. And then Jay. That’s it. Before you, there was only Lee.”

“Oh,” he said. Then to be supportive, said, “I thought...I thought maybe...Remember I said that?”

“You were right,” she said. “Do you think...when you met me and we finally...did it...did you think I was good?”

“Maggie...” he rolled his eyes.

“No, really, Max, I thought about it a lot back then. I worried so much...”

“I didn’t think anything except how much I was in love with you.”

“Aw, Maxy,” she said and she kissed his shoulder.

“Really. You were great. I didn’t think at all that you were inexperienced. He slipped an arm around her, and they sat awhile in her spacious music room, squished together in an uncomfortable chair. “I’m going to have dinner with the boy my fiancée lost her virginity to?”

“You are,” she said. “Max?”

“What now?”

“It was only one time with Lee. We didn’t date.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Yeah. I only had sex one time before I met you.”

He put his hand over her knee that was folded in his lap and he kissed her forehead. “Was it good?”

“Max,” she laughed.

“Tell me,” he said. “If you want to.”

She wiggled herself closer to him, whispered, “Really?”

“If you tell me, I will have a complete knowledge of all the men you’ve slept with.”

She giggled. “You even watched,” she whispered.

“You were so amazing.”

Her hand went over his and he was aware she was looking in his eyes. He lowered his and stared into her. She smiled, kissed his shoulder again.

“I lost my virginity at Tanglewood,” she whispered close to his ear, then settled back to look in his eyes again.

He laughed. Tanglewood was an elite music academy. “This one time, at band camp...”

Maggie rolled her eyes, said, “Kind of. It was a weekend. We were there for a symphony. And we were supposed to play, part of a high school festival. There were lots of students, we were playing at the Shed, and we had hotel rooms. I felt really grown up. Independent.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen.” Her hand held his more firmly. He felt a tug, a guiding urge travel from her hand to his. “A year before I met you.”

His hand was led up the fabric of her tights, hers riding on top. Traveled the inside of her thigh, from her knee to the point where her skirt touched her leg.

“Did he wear a condom?”

She whispered, “I was a good girl, Daddy.”

A sexual surge hit him so hard he flinched. He gripped the flesh on the inside of her thigh and she gasped.

“Did you put him in your mouth?”

“No,” she whispered.

“Was he big?”

“Bigger than you,” she whispered and she leaned her face close and he met her lips for a kiss.

His hand slipped under her skirt and went up between her legs. She parted them, let her bent leg push higher up his lap. He felt his cock swelling in his pants. Like she knew, her hand went to him. His cock was upright in his chinos and she found his tip and her tented fingers stroked it through the cotton.

“I want to fuck you so bad, Maggie.”

“I have plans,” she said.

“Mm,” he laughed, his fingers stroking her sex through her tights. “Maggie? You’re not wearing underwear?”

“No,” she laughed.

“You’re so hot.”

“I want to fuck in this room.”

“Now?” he jolted, eyes wide.

“No, no. This room has a lot of bad memories. This room needs an exorcism.”

“We can do that,” he said, and he kissed her.

“I want to do something really bad in this room,” she whispered. Whispered it to the room, looking away from him now, and her eyes going up and around the four tall corners of the grim concrete space.

“You want to punish it?”

Her eyes came back to his and she looked at him earnestly and said, “That’s exactly it.”

Her hand joined his up her skirt and she pulled the waist of her tights away.

“Maggie,” he sighed in lust and disbelief. He looked out the archway at the space beyond the room, a space where any of the Beckers could walk by. They were sideways to the arch and it would be hard to miss what they were doing.

He touched the bare skin of her belly, felt its smoothness under his fingers. Let his hand pivot, turn upside down, and his bunched fingers eased down to where she was hot and wet. Her eyes were on his and she made his cock ache painfully for her.

She smiled as he began to stroke her, feel her wetness, and spread it through her folds. He slipped a finger inside her.

She said, “I want to tell Jay you watch.”

“What? Oh...Maggie, I don’t know...”

“I’m telling him, Max.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to have sex with him on Thursday and I don’t want you in the closet.”

“You don’t?” he said, feeling her sexual energy frighten him. Her pussy made wet popping sounds under his touch.

“Mm,” she said and she pushed her sex against his fingers and narrowed her eyes. Her hand went over the front of her skirt and pressed him tighter against her, making his finger slip deeper.

“I want you closer,” she said.

His heart hammered. This sweet girl who he’d proposed to was becoming a demon. He loved it. It was thrilling to watch. He liked how she scared him. Looking at him now through upturned eyelashes, narrow eyes like deadly slits, plump lips parted with lust. Her pussy was sopping in two strokes of his finger. She was always sexual, always responsive to his touch, but the last ten days had been more powerful than ever. His Maggie was becoming someone else in a way. She was discovering something about herself. And it was kinky. And he wanted it. As much as it scared him, he wanted it.

“What are you saying, Maggie?”

“You know...” she said, her voice a breathy whisper.

Footsteps echoed from the hall. More than one person on their way.

She hiked her skirt down, ripping it along his forearm in the same instant he yanked his hand away. She sat up straight, in time to see visitors approaching the archway, setting her loafers flat on the stone floor. Max didn’t know what to do with his hand. It was soaking. He could see it glisten in his periphery, made slick with the excitement of the woman he was head over heels in love with. He snickered, and she did too. He saw Carol coming and he was so clutched with fear his brain didn’t know what to do. He laughed, tried to chase it away and laughed louder. Maggie nudged him. He put his fingers in his mouth.

Carol stepped down into the conservatory and she had two young adults with her, Suzie and Lee he presumed. He sucked his fingers, curled them up in a loose fist so it didn’t look like he was sucking his fingers like a mental patient, just maybe a pensive young man deep in thought.

Carol gave an odd smile as she approached. Odd in that she didn’t normally smile. She seemed pleased with herself, she said, “Look who’s here, Margaret. I’ve invited your friends for dinner.”

Max witnessed a strange exchange. Witnessed the stunted Maggie of the youth he missed, the one before she escaped her chokehold and got to breathe sweet freedom in the forests of Vermont.

Old friends apparently, her and Suzie, yet they gave each other a curt nod, and a brief handshake. The same went for Lee. Not a word spoken. No cooing at time lost, at the way their faces hand changed in the last four years. Just a How do you do? Max wiped his hand on the back of his pants, in time for Carol to introduce him.

“And this is Margaret’s fiancé,” she said, very cordially, to them. And they nodded like they knew who he was, as though they’d been following along in newsletters. “He’s at Farmingham with Margaret. 4.0. And he starts at Oxbow in the summer.”

He shook Suzie’s hand first, a limp sort of powerless piece of flesh and she bit her own lip on the inside of her mouth, and nodded, but averted her eyes. Lee’s hand was as weak and clammy as Suzie’s. A lifeless handshake, and when Max stared into Lee’s eyes he averted his gaze as well. This was the boy who had taken his Maggie’s virginity. He had something between his legs that had slipped inside his love. He would be mad if Lee wasn’t so damn anemic. His eyes looked down to the floor. He was tall and thin, Chinese he supposed, given the last name, and he had modest glasses.

Max could see Maggie looking at the side of his head and he turned and she mouthed, Oxbow?

He shook his head, waved his hand mildly, indicating he’d tell her later. Looming in the background, coming into the hall outside of the conservatory from way of the kitchen were Cole and Ken. They had cocktails in hand, probably gin and tonics, and when they saw Carol and Lee and Suzie they darted out of the hall and back into the kitchen. He could hear a laugh from Cole.

Carol said, “Suzie and Lee are both at MIT, they come home on the weekends though. They love their mothers.”

Lee’s face broke as if he was laughing but he didn’t make a sound. His eyes were on Maggie.

Max couldn't believe this was the guy that his hot little woman had slept with. This was the boy who had broke her cherry? He didn’t seem like he was the guy who would take a girl’s cherry. Let alone someone as incredible as Maggie. Lee, he felt bad to admit it, may not have had sex since that night at Tanglewood with Maggie. But if he’d like, he could give his hand sniff. Get a thrill, for old time’s sake.

* * *

Dinner was uncomfortable. Eight people sitting at a table long enough for twenty. There was not much conversation, to be had. It was very different from the warm and supportive Milton family dining table back in Traverse City. Two brothers, a sister—and his dad holding court, applauded by mom, Dad’s biggest admirer.

They talked about the usual things the Becker’s talked about. About school and about prospects. They talked about the schedule for tomorrow. They took a few laps around that one. Caterer, church, music, venue... All were to be decided by end of day tomorrow. Next weekend Maggie would return and they would plan her dress. Then there was to be no more talk about the planning of the wedding. Once those tasks, spread over only two days, had been addressed there was to be no more distractions. Carol would take care of the day to day.

It was impersonal in a way, except that Carol was family of course. They seemed pushed out of their own wedding. Of course, Max had no illusions going into this that it would be any other way. Frankly, it might be a relief not to have to plan the wedding. And it would be a relief to know that with Carol at the helm it would be run with precision. If they were left to do it on their own, and Carol was to be a guest, the panic would be immeasurable. This was for the best. He just hoped Maggie thought so.

After dinner they were given a treat. The Becker conservatory didn’t have a bass but Ken was also a master pianist. He sat at the grand and Max and Cole sat in the padded chairs facing the piano. Ken sat on the other side of Cole with Suzie, and Maggie’s parents stood behind them all with difficult smiles.

Max watched his poor girl take up her cello and tune it. Her face had changed. A light had switched off. She wasn’t there. Her eyes didn’t catch his. Graceful long-fingered hands went in practiced patterns, tuning and plucking, examining her bow with placid determination.

Then there was a collective breath, a silence, and the two of them readied themselves. Maggie still played. She took music in the first two years at Farmingham but she didn’t anymore. He’d seen her play before. She was a gifted musician.

Her hand worked the bow. Her eyes closed, her expression like she was distant. Her mind was elsewhere, but her eyebrows would bow with the emotion of the song. Boccherini again. It made him cry. It was a composition he’d associated with her. She played it many times. When she was stressed, when things were tough. It did something to her. His eyes grew wet with emotion. He felt his heart bursting for her. If there weren’t all these people watching, he would step right up to her and put his arms around her. She played like she was in pain. Like she was in mourning. His breath trembled. He made fists to keep it together. The last thing he needed was to have Carol or Martin witness him crying. Who knows what that would mean to them. He didn't imagine it would be good. He turned away. Couldn't watch her make those doleful notes anymore, the sound was killing him. He caught Suzie staring at Cole. Cole watched Maggie, his eyes darting over her hands as they worked. But he was being watched. Someone had a crush on him. Suzie was cute. A little out of shape, probably used to hunching over books, or microscopes, rather than exercising. But she had a pretty face and a nice smile.

When Maggie finished and the song descended from its crescendo, the piano stopped and all eyes were on Maggie, she groaned out a long dying note that got his eyes wet again. She set the bow down, her eyes still closed. They all clapped politely for her but Max was overwhelmed again. She needed to recover from her performance. Sitting still with bowed head and closed eyes, her face was blank. Like she was crying inside, struggling with something. Then, without looking up, she went through the silent machinations of putting her cello and bow away. Lee sat at the piano and his sad eyes were bolted to Maggie but she wouldn’t acknowledge him.

Martin looked at his Rolex, said, “Well, it is getting late, I think we should call it an evening.”

Ken said, “We were going to go down to the beach.”

Carol looked at her own Rolex and said, “It’s nine o’clock.” Making it sound like that was late.