Maggie 2.12 (Patreon)

Riding in the Range Rover, heading back to Narragansett, stomach full, tired, feet sore, Max couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened when Maggie was in the washroom. Cole had left the table shortly after Maggie did, and there was an overlap of time when they were both gone. Max was left at the table to smile and nod and do his best not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. And boy did he feel uncomfortable.

Maggie and Cole were friends, but the way Cole fed her that oyster? That was too much. It had to be obvious. Max had put on a brave face for her parents and pretended like that was normal at Farmingham. The three of them were just real good buddies.

He talked with Carol about the arrangements, told her what he and Maggie had discussed. And just like Maggie had told him, they could have done this without visiting. She wanted the Trinity, she wanted The Poirot. She wanted steak and lobster. He tried not to eye the door where Maggie and Cole had disappeared.

Could something have happened? It was just a few minutes, but maybe Cole could have bent Maggie over the sink and fucked her. Exciting thought, but he was left out. He didn't want to be left out. But then, maybe if that was what Maggie wanted, that was what he had to give her. Or support or allow. Or whatever it was he was doing. His control on this exciting project was growing weaker and weaker. He rubbed his sweaty palms together.

Maggie’s slim hand worked down his wrist, slipped between his hands, laced her fingers through his and held him. Their eyes met, and she smiled wanly. A look of guilt. An acknowledgement that today was a little too far. He could see the love in there. The love for him. She still loved him. He squeezed her hand.

She said, “It’s going to be a beautiful wedding.”

He said, “I can’t wait,” leaned close and kissed her cheek.

Maggie moved forward to speak to the front, her hand still holding his. She said, “I know we said we would go back to Vermont tonight, but I think we’ll stay.”

“Another night?” her mother said. “You told us you’d be leaving.”

“I know, but I think we’re tired. It's been a long day. We’ll stay, go to bed early, out early. You won’t see us in the morning.”

Carol checked her watch, suggesting it was a little late in the day to bring this decision to her, but given no potential conflict, no arriving guests needing the room he and Cole were in, she said, “That's fine, Margaret. You should have stayed in the first place. It made more sense.”

“I know,” Maggie said. “I wasn't thinking.”

“I knew you'd be tired,” Martin said.

“It’s too much for one day,” her mother said, turning to look out the passenger window.

Maggie eased back next to him and put her shoulder against his. Her other hand lay palm up on her thigh, inviting Cole, whose hand wandered over, laced through her fingers like she'd done with Max. And now his fiancée was holding hands with two men. Two men she would have sex with tonight.

* * *

Maggie looked like she was going to kill her brother.

They all sat around a fire on the beach, Max and Maggie leaning against the old greyed log, Cole sitting on the stone where Max had sat and watched his fiancée suck someone else’s cock, Ken explaining what he studied at Stanford. Ken told them all about regenerative medicine and his work on studying the growth of an artificial liver. Cole kept asking questions, seeming like he was genuinely curious but there was a whimsical tone to his voice as though he knew by prolonging this conversation he was driving Maggie out of her mind. Max’s poor little girl was next to him now, her brow low, a single crease formed above her nose. She looked like a surly brat. Max could see the humor in it. Could see the joy in making her anxious. Max never did that for her, never made her wait, never made her beg. Of course, he wasn't sure he had that ability. Not sure if depriving Maggie would lead to her heightened arousal. Also, if he were to act like Cole was acting, Maggie would climb on him and his resolve would wane, and he would be doing what she wished in a matter of seconds. Cole had power over Maggie. In a way, he had power over both of them now.

They’d skipped dinner. Everyone full after all the tasting they had done during the day. Martin and Carol retired to separate rooms in the house. Ken hadn’t eaten, so he reheated leftovers in the kitchen and Cole and Max and Maggie had sat with him around the counter and told him all the things they’d done during the day. Not all the things, of course. Cole had kept his back to Maggie, like he was purposely disregarding her, though he did seem to have an easy friendship forming with Ken. When it grew dark they came down to the beach.

Maggie said, “When are you going back, Ken?” Max stifled a smile.

“In the morning,” Ken said.

“Early?”

“Pretty early.”

Maggie checked her watch.

“Mm,” Ken hummed, recalling, “It’s at 8:15. T.F. Green.”

Maggie didn't follow through with an observation that Ken should go to bed, but given her rude performance last night with her friends Max wouldn’t have put it past her. Max snuggled next to her and rubbed her arm.

Cole showed a wry smile, saying to Ken, “So, what’s the latest on stem cells?”

Maggie moaned and her head fall against Max’s shoulder as Ken raised his eyebrows, cocked his head, and told Cole all the latest news, starting at the beginning. Her hair was still in a bun, and he stroked her soft cheek and kissed the top of her head. They shared a wool blanket, much like she had done with Cole last night. She settled against him, pulling the blanket up to cover them a little better.

He jumped when Maggie touched him. Her hand settled between his legs under the blanket, curious fingers seeking him out, trying to find his penis. He wasn’t hard, it was cold and her brother was there. He parted his legs so she could locate it more easily. Found it then, her fingers divining its shape under his pants, putting some life in it, making it swell.

“Jesus, Maggie,” he whispered into her ear while he cupped his hand on her neck. Her mouth climbed his neck, kissed his chin, took his lips.

He made out with her, felt the urgency in her kisses. She moved slow, but her tongue was eager. Ken’s voice by the fire said, “Would you look at these two.”

Cole said, “You should see them at school.”

“Really? . . . Aw, thats nice. After all these years, too.”

Maggie laughed and pulled her kiss away. “We’re twenty-one,” she said.

Cole said, “Yeah, Max is really good to her.”

“Yeah,” Ken said, “Max has been really good for Maggie.”

“Thanks, Ken,” Max said.

“I mean it. She needed someone like you.”

Cole nudged Ken with an elbow and said, “You need a ride in the morning? To the airport?”

Ken ran his hand through his hair, exhaled, said, “Yeah, I guess. That would be great.”

Maggie said, “There’s no room. The Jeep’s small—our luggage, the raven head, my bird cage...”

Ken frowned, said, “What bird cage?”

“Long story,” Maggie answered.

“Holy shit,” Ken laughed to the sky, “How did I end up with such a terrible family?”

Cole laughed. “How bad a passenger are you, anyway, Ken?”

Maggie grimaced, rolled her head around. “You know what? . . . No. I’m leaving my bird cage here. Leaving it behind.”

“So, I can come?” Ken asked, perplexed brows pointed up in the middle.

Cole checked his watch. “Yeah. We should hit the hay. Early start. The longer we’re up the more likely you’ll get your seat bumped by some other inanimate object.” Cole moved like he was going to head to the trail and Ken went ahead of him. When Ken had made some distance, Cole called behind him, “Okay, Ken, we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night, everyone.” Ken waved over his shoulder without looking back.

* * *

All three of their faces were turned to the dark path, watching the darker figure of her brother crunching the gravel, turning, scrolling to the right, higher up the path, to the top of the cliff and then he was gone. Maggie moved off his lap and made her way around the fire and across to Cole with her face turned to where she’d last seen Ken, watching in case he returned after forgetting something.

Max felt the coolness on his thighs, Maggie’s absence robbing him of her heat. Maggie brought Cole to sit with them by the fire. She sat herself on Cole’s open lap, still watching the path.

Cole said to Max, “Is he gone?”

Max shrugged, watching the path. All he could see was darkness. His eyes were blown out from the fire. “I think so.”

Maggie held Cole's cheeks and kissed him. Cole’s head turned up to meet hers, and Max could hear them breathing through their noses while their mouths made wet sucking noises against each other. Maggie gulped like she was trying to talk around their twisting tongues, partial words being formed, swallowed by Cole. Things like, all day, this guy, got me, couldn't wait, oh, touching me. Cole's hand at Maggie’s hip waved Max closer, and Max moved quickly to join them. He hated being left out, but wondered why he was so easily disheartened, so easily dismayed. If Cole hadn't waved him, he may have sat there, four feet apart, until they were done. But nothing was stopping him from being a more positive and happy piece of this.

He sat next to Cole, against the log, Maggie sitting sideways in Cole's lap with her knees pointed at Max. Her attention was on Cole, but he didn't feel excluded.

Max said, “Where do you want to do this? Out here?”

Cole said, “Just let it happen, bro,” his eyes still on Maggie.

Maggie lifted the front of her skirt, brought it up her thighs. Cole's hand slipped underneath, worked underneath, and Max figured he was getting it inside her tights to touch her bare skin.

Max said, “Did anything happen when you two were in the washroom?”

They were kissing and they both started laughing, their smiling mouths pulling their kisses apart. They looked in each other's eyes.

Max said, “What?”

Maggie said, “Yeah...”

“What?”

“He said really dirty things to me.” She opened her legs wider while Cole's arm moved, trying to get access.

“What dirty things—”

“Ah,” she gasped, “oh, and he touched me, mm...”

Cole chortled, taking Maggie’s mouth again with his own.

“He touched you?”

Maggie nodded while she kissed Cole.

Max felt the jealousy arrive. His two best friends. His Maggie, whom he loved and would wed, and Cole, who he was also beginning to presume he loved, too. They were coming together without him. Doing things without him. Dirty things. She was sharing her intimacy with another man. Something that had been only for Max was now less exclusive. Something other men had experienced. And, as she shared herself, she learned other men's secrets. Learned the things they did. The way they kissed, the way they made love, their humor, their playfulness, their sex organs, their sexual abilities... their biology. Cole's semen was known to her. She knew its taste, like she had teased him with. She knew how much Cole came, knew he was uncircumcised. The most base and disgusting and private things that Cole had were now known by the woman Max loved. And what if she liked Cole’s secrets better than Max's? What if she liked the taste of Cole’s semen, liked the size of his cock, liked his foreskin, liked those dirty things Cole said? Cole was a better looking guy, smart and driven like Max, ambitious like Max, but he had a better build and a bigger cock... He made Maggie laugh, too. Cole had spent four years with her at Farmingham. Same as Max. She loved spending time with Cole. Would those special things she loved about her Max be diminished? Would his offerings begin to seem meager?