Maggie 2.10 (Patreon)

They’d visited two other churches that morning, but when they walked into the Trinity Episcopalian they knew it would be the place where they married. Together they stood, hand in hand in the creaking nave, looking around in circles at the gleaming white-painted wood.

“I told you,” Valerie, their wedding planner, said. Carol and Martin were stone-faced, having known this would be the church all along. A sea-coast church, three-hundred years old, a place where George Washington himself had attended services. Cathedral ceiling, the pulpit an intricate carved thing, massive, shaped like a chalice. The pews were elaborate numbered boxes. Brilliant ornate chandeliers, three of them, ran the center, all of them dangling slightly northeast. Hundreds of years of coastal wind had made the building lean.

“This is it, Maggie,” Max said, wishing they were alone, rather than being watched for reactions.

“This is it, Max,” Maggie said. She put her shoulder against his, lay her head on him. She turned, quick, kissed him, then led him by his hand between the white box pews and headed to the tall stained glass apse.

Valerie stopped her. “Oh, not so fast,” she said with a laugh. “You don’t want to take him up there.”

“I don’t?”

“Not until the day, Miss Becker.”

“Oh.”

Cole stepped past the others, hands in his pockets, eyeing the height of the church, looking up at the upper deck’s white balconies. “It is beautiful, guys,” he said, took a hand out of his pocket and held it out. “Let the Best Man take you up there. They can all see how beautiful you’ll look on your wedding day.”

Maggie stepped forward without hesitation and took Cole’s hand. Cole gripped it, pulled her to him and walked her up the aisle and the three steps to the first tier next to the pulpit. She struggled to keep a straight face.

Standing high in the second tier of the apse she could see what it would be like on her wedding day. She imagined the pews filled with her family and friends. That mean face that she loved—the one glowering at her and Cole right now—would be next to her. She would say to that face, I do. Right now, however, she was laughing at the effect she had posing up here with Max’s best friend.

In the wood-paneled grid below, stood her mother and father, her groom, their wedding planner. All faces turned to her, but only one smile, and that was on Valerie.

She looked up at the balconies, the huge organ sitting at the rear balcony, below that the sunlight streaming in from the opened doors. She would marry Max here, then she might not ever step foot in this state again despite how beautiful it was.

Cole was nodding, holding her hand, smiling and taking in the beautiful church like she did. He leaned close, and still with a pleasant smile, said very close to her ear, “Did you wear any panties today?”

Cole returned to standing, looking down to her parents and to Max. She laughed, turned him to face her, like they were getting married today, took his tie and brought it out of his jacket, stroked her thumb along the patterned silk, ran her hand over its shine. “I like you with a tie.”

He leaned closer and whispered, “Later tonight I’m going to bind your little wrists with this tie while I fuck your ass.”

“Oh!” His words startled her. Her gasp turned to a laugh, performing for those watching. They couldn’t imagine Max’s Best Man had just whispered something so dirty. She wanted this to look very innocent, but those words just set a fucking flame off inside her. Her stomach trembled and her legs shook. She wanted to be home, somewhere private, anywhere but here.

Cole cocked an eyebrow. “Well, did you?”

She whispered, “Did I what?”

Cole’s eyes traveled her body, settling between her legs.

Her panties. She said, “Yes.”

Cole’s face moved towards hers and for a horrible second she thought he was going to kiss her in front of everyone watching, but his lips brushed her cheek and he whispered in her ear, “Down the nave, turn right, past the sacristy, left at the vestry, there’s a washroom. Go. Take your panties off and when you return, put them in my pocket.” He pulled back, face beaming with a performing smile. He nodded to Max and Valerie and her parents below, crinkling his nose, and beaming his charming smile. “I think Miss Becker loves it.”

* * *

Maggie’s eyes said a lot. Whatever Cole was whispering up there was not sweet and supportive despite what that plastered smile might convey. Cole was saying things that parted Maggie’s lips. She didn’t know what to think of what Cole had said, but Max could tell she liked those words. I think Miss Becker loves it. His best friend up there standing with Max’s fiancée in the spot where he would marry her—it was a violation.

Carol and Martin looked unperturbed, but who knew what they were really thinking. They never gave their thoughts away. Two poker players who laughed at the winnings of the world’s greatest poker players. Martin earned or lost that in a day. They were on a different scale. Was it obvious to them? Did they wonder what their daughter was doing? They were smarter than anyone he ever knew. Surely they could pick up on this. But what was he to do? He couldn’t make a scene. That would make it worse. Right now he felt himself diminishing in the Beckers’ esteem. Becoming less than a man. His own Best Man handling his woman in an intimate way. Fuck, yes, they were all friends. Yes, Cole touched Maggie all the time. Had done this for years. It’s just that now Max knew for sure Cole was whispering dirty things to Maggie. He knew Maggie had sucked Cole’s cock.

But, shit, no one else here knew that. The fucking Beckers were always stone-faced. Maybe it was nothing. Valerie was cocking her head in an appreciative way, loving to see the bride-to-be up where she belonged, up in the spot where she would tie the knot. Valerie didn’t seem to let on she thought this was wrong. Maybe Best Men did this. Was this normal? Valerie had escorted couples through this procedure countless times, she wasn’t bothered in the least. Maybe it was all in his head. He just didn’t know anymore.

“What do you think?”

Max startled hearing Martin’s voice so close. While he was lost in thought Martin had moved next to him, arms folded, eyeballing Maggie and Cole up on the pulpit.

“I think she’s beautiful,” Max said, the words coming ill-formed, just his truth tumbling out.

“About the church, Max,” Martin said with an even tone, though his annoyance was implied.

“This is where I want to marry your daughter,” Max said, eyes still on Maggie while Cole whispered something else in her ear, and Maggie came away shocked.

Martin said, “I knew it,” and put his huge hand on Max’s shoulder, imbuing him with some strength and bolstering him suddenly.

Yeah, Maggie was his. That wasn’t going to change. She was Max’s bride.

Martin squeezed Max once and this emotionless man handling him with unexpected affection made his eyes well. He felt so welcome.

Martin looked at his watch and said, “We have to go. We have to do the tastings.”

“Yes, sir,” Max said.

“Margaret,” Martin called, strong voice echoing off all the church’s old hard edges. “Come. We have appointments.”

Maggie stepped down from the stage and walked towards them along the nave. She was blushing. Her cheeks were bright with color. She passed Max, didn’t say a word, but caught his eye and smirked, eyebrows raised, biting the corner of her lower lip. She went on and turned to cross behind the pews and disappeared under the archway that lead to the vestry.

Cole caught up and said, “She just has to go the washroom.” He stood next to Max, hands in his pockets, a smug smile on his handsome, unshaved face.

Carol took Valerie’s arm and led her out the open doors and into the September sunlight, already talking business. Martin checked his watch once more and left Max and Cole alone without a word, following behind Carol and Valerie but turning left when they were all outside.

Cole said, “Have you ever seen a church like this? It’s so crazy, Max.”

“What are you doing?”

“What?”

“Flirting with Maggie in front of her parents.”

“They don’t notice. I’m not doing anything. I joke around with her all the time, anyway.”

“It’s different now.”

“Yeah, but her parents don’t know that. As far as they—”

“It looks bad, okay?” Max said, voice rising.

“Max—”

“You’re fucking standing up there with my wife, Cole,” he said, his voice taking a firm tone. “That’s my wife. You think I like seeing you two up there?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“With me?”

“With you, Max. It’s me. I’m fucking around. You think I’m trying to take her from you or something? We’re playing. Maggie and I are having fun. She’s into it. Fuck, I should have left last night. I knew this was going to be bad.”

“No. Don’t go.”

“Look, Max, you’re fucking up here.”

“I’m fucking up? I’m fucking up?”

“You’re fucking up. . . . I’m doing this for Maggie, Max. All this... teasing. I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to make her crazy.”

“Why?”

“We want her to have an awesome time, right? Want her to have, like, experiences she missed or whatever. Then she needs attention. You have to work her over.”

“In front of her parents?”

“She has a hangup with her folks,” Cole said. “I wonder why?” He chuckled and threw his hands up, rolling his eyes. “It turns her on. Trust me.”

“You’re telling me what turns my fiancée on?”

“Max. Don’t. Okay? It’s me, dude. This will be our Secret Society. We’ll make Maggie happy. You’re going to marry her. You’re the lucky asshole who gets to spend your life with that fucking goddess, okay? She’s looking for a little fun. Don’t deny her.”

“I’m not. I’m the one who agreed to this.”

“Yeah, but you’re wrecking it for her.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Trust me, you are. Think about it. You agreed to something crazy. So fucking do it, Wild Man. Fucking do it. Show her a crazy time. But Max... really commit to it. She’ll thank you forever. You keep throwing up road blocks because, dude, I think you’re making this about you.”

Max paused and they held gazes. Max could feel some truth seeping in, and he didn’t like it.

Cole said, “Stop thinking about what you want out of this. I know this excites you. You wouldn’t agree to it otherwise. Stop being selfish. Start thinking about what she wants. What she’s missing. Promise me. Think about it.”

Cole nodded with a smile over Max’s shoulder, and Max turned to see Maggie come from the archway, sheepish, finished her business in the washroom.

Cole left him, went to Maggie. They stood in the light from the opened doors, two familiar friendly shapes, mostly silhouette, lit from behind by the outside. Maggie and Cole came toe to toe and she looked in Cole’s eyes. She had her hands together at her front, bunched in fists. She took one fist and put it in the pocket of Cole’s jacket, stuffing something in there.

* * *

“Max, I just want to go home,” Maggie whispered to him in the back seat of the Range Rover.

“You feel all right?”

“Yes. I just...”

“What?”

“I know where I want the reception.”

“The Poirot?”

“You know,” she said, her eyes on his now.

The Poirot was where she wanted to have their reception, but for whatever reason, her parents were making her meet for samples at two other hotels. Truthfully, she didn’t really care where they went, but given the three choices she’d have just picked the Poirot and that was that.

Max looked to the front of the vehicle, Carol in three quarter pose, her stern brow fixed on the Newport traffic. The Beckers didn’t speak, but the radio quietly played a symphony from the satellite radio.

“Maggie, they went and arranged all these meetings. We have to.”

“I know,” Maggie sighed, a slight whine whirring up her voice. “I just want to get back home.”

He had a good idea that meant Maggie wanted to get moving on the promised sexual activity. Like Cole had her so worked up she couldn’t take it anymore. Didn’t even care about planning their wedding, just wanted to get stuffed with Cole’s cock. Shame washed over him because all of this aroused him. It made him mad, made him jealous, hurt his heart, but he also felt an excitement—low and primal, something in him lit up by Maggie’s badness. He could fight it, wrestle Maggie to suit his whims, but maybe Cole was right. He thought Cole was right, but didn’t want to admit it, because admitting it would lead to letting Maggie do it. And as much as he wanted it, it still frightened him. He’d wanted to fence in Maggie’s sexuality and watch it like an exhibit. He was trapped in his own fucking cage now. He’d built it. Done it himself. Ran all the walls, barbwire along the top, maybe an electrified line. Got it all set up, a job well done, but he’d fucking locked himself inside it now. He was trapped with whatever it was that lurked in Maggie’s psyche like a goddamn tiger.

He sighed, not wanting the answer, but asking just the same: “Maggie... What did you put in Cole’s pocket?”

Maggie’s eyes widened, watching out the window between her parents. Without looking at him she leaned close and whispered, “My... panties.”

He brought his hands together in his lap, thighs flexing like steel, breathing tight, bracing against the jealous hurt. He concentrated on his breathing. Anger came up but he moved away from it. Dodged it. He bit his lips and breathed some more.

“You okay?”

He nodded, lips still pinched. He whispered, “You’re not wearing any panties?”

Maggie shook her head.

He got close and said, “You’re a bad little girl.”

Maggie nodded and smirked, then covered her mouth as her cheeks blushed.