Maggie 2.13 (Patreon)

“Take me to my room and fuck me,” she said to Cole, wrapping both her arms around his neck.

He whispered in her ear, “We’re a long way from fucking, Maggie. When I put my cock in you, you’ll be crying for it.”

“I’m crying now,” she said.

“You’re a sweet girl,” he said, and he kissed her lips, “but I want to see that whore again. Show me that whore.”

She whispered close to his ear, “Take me to my room and I’ll show you what a bad girl I am.”

He laughed, eyes low and mean. The sound familiar, she’d heard him laugh almost every day for the last four school years, but those eyes were menacing. He slipped his thumb into her mouth and she sucked it eagerly. Cole’s head angled over his shoulder but his eyes were still on hers. He said to her future husband, “You ready, Max? We’re going to turn your little slut inside out.”

He stood up and cradled her in his arms and she hugged his neck tightly. Max was quiet and she couldn’t get a good look at his face but every time she caught him in her periphery as Cole carried her across the macadam and up the trail to the house she saw that his face was crestfallen. She could see too his resignation. Her poor man a victim of his own erotic impulses. Every part of him hating seeing her with a bigger stronger man, one who was going to fuck her brains out, but yet he was surrendering. He even held the kitchen door for them to pass through.

“Thanks, Max,” she giggled as her face traveled past his, floating past him in his best friend’s arms. Didn’t know what it was that was turning her on about seeing her love like that. Was it truly erotic? Did it turn her on to be taken in front of him? Or was it the knowledge that the man she loved was so aroused by this? So overwhelmed to see his libidinous fantasies brought to life. It could be both. Both were true. She loved being fucked while he watched. Loved the feeling of Jay and knew she was going to like Cole. But also felt very satisfied for Max. She was delivering something precise to him. Who else could deliver such erotic angst? She had incredible power over her Max.

“Max, max,” she whispered while Cole crossed the darkened kitchen.

He was there next to then, “What?” he said, a small sane piece of him desperate to hear that she had changed her mind.

She appealed to the dirty crazy part of her man, said, “Can you take my shoes off, I don’t want them to fall.” She flicked her feet to show him.

Cole paused at the bottom of the steel steps rising to the second floor and angled her so Max could pluck her shoes off.

“Thanks, Max,” she sighed as she was carried off again. Each step taking her from Max, literally, as he drifted behind them on the stairs, and philosophically too. Each step bringing her closer to her bedroom where she would spread her legs for her best friend and fuck him. He’d got her wet today, got her aching to be filled and now it was going to happen. When she’d got home from the wedding planning she’d had to powder herself again, all her creases were slick with her smell and her sweat. She didn’t clean. Thought it was exciting not to. Thought Cole would appreciate her lust. He was turning out to be far more powerful than she’d ever imagined. More sexy than she knew. Almost jealous feelings rose. Getting mad knowing all those other girls she’d seen him with in the past years had got to know this dirty confident part of him.

Max got ahead in the hall and he held her bedroom door open for them. He closed it when they passed and now she was alone.

Alone in her bedroom with boys. Such a forbidden thing. She’d wanted this so bad since she was just a teen. Boy crazy but a caged bird only dreaming of what it might be like to be loved. To know the touch of a boy. Now here it was, happening for real.

Cole lay her on the bed and her arms clung to him, tried to pull him on top of her but he freed himself from her clutches with his hands. He rose off the bed, looked around her room. Put his hands in his pockets and wandered. Max sat himself on the leather chair where she had gone down on him last night. Cole walked and admired her things, his erection curving out the fly of his cotton pants.

“So this is where my little Maggie grew up.”

“Yeah,” she gasped, her breathy voice surged through her, as desperate as she felt. Her heart was beating double time.

“You painted this,” he said, standing with his back to her, looking up at a canvas on her concrete wall. A painting she had done when she was seventeen, full of dumb angst, dumb but honest—exploding feeling, leaking through her fingertips and translating all that she was missing onto canvas in cobalt and cadmium.

“Yeah, I—”

“No, I know you did it. I recognize your work.”

He turned then and came to the foot of her bed, took his jean jacket off and threw it on the floor at the base of the low case that held her records and turntable.

“Such an amazing talent, Max,” he said, looking at her.

“I know,” Max agreed.

“All that emotion, raw, untouched. Something always there under that Maggie sweetness. Little girl Margaret looking to get out. Go and play.”

Max wrung his hands together. “I love her, she’s...so amazing...”

“She is,” he said. “So much more than I ever even knew. My best friend,” he said, biting his lower lip, one corner of his mouth peeling up. “Take those tights off, show me your bare legs.”

She couldn’t wait to. Her hands went up under her skirt and she hooked them under the waistband of her cable knit tights. Wriggled them down her thighs, over her knees, turned them inside out pulling them off her feet, threw them to the floor at Max’s feet.

“She’s not wearing any panties, Max,” he said.

“I told him,” she said.

“She told me.”

“She put them in my pocket like a good girl.”

He stepped closer, coming to the side of the bed, the three of them forming a tight-angled equilateral triangle now. Equally separated but very close.

“Lift your skirt for us, Maggie. Show us.”

She bit her lip. Her heart moved to triple time. Max and Cole both watched between her legs waiting for her to reveal her most intimate part. Her pulse pounded up her neck. Her hand tugged at her skirt hem, pulled it high. She sat with her legs together, her knees touching, but they could see her flat belly above her thighs. If she hadn’t had Max shave her they would have seen her dense pubic patch. She felt a static tingle travel her whole body, raise every hair she had on her scalp. Both sets of eyes on her, looking to see her dirty little snatch, wanting so bad to see it, both their pants were bulging out. She was making them hard. Making them hard by showing them her body, making them hard by every action she made, communicating that both of them would fuck her tonight.

“Spread your legs, Margaret...show us your pussy,” Cole said.

She let her legs part, slowly. Slowly for them, slowly for her. She wanted this exquisite tension to last forever. Her legs went wider and wider. Her pussy made a wet sticking sound and then a liquid crackle. Both her lips sucked into her mouth and watched two boys peer between her legs and look at her most sacred space.

“What do you think?” Max asked and she stifled a giggle.

“Nobody’s seen this?” Cole said.

She shook her head.

“Lee?”

She shook her head again.

“Only Max?”

And Jay. But she nodded. Whispered, “My gyno is a woman.”

He sat next to her on the bed, put his middle finger in his mouth, his eyes on hers. Her belly tightened with excitement. Took his finger out and moved his hand between her legs. She opened wider for him. She stopped breathing. Watched his hand move. He touched her with his finger, stroked down between the cleft of her mound and she gasped, and tried to catch her sound.

“What a pretty little slit,” he said. He worked his finger between her folds, up and down, tickling and smoothing, his touch so light he was going to make her scream. “Lot of boys missed out on one pretty little pussy.” His finger dipped into her, shallow, enough to make her eyes close and she grunted.

Then he was up, standing again and looking around her room. He wore a slim black cotton sweatshirt and he peeled it up over his head, threw it over top of his jacket. Sauntered around her room in just a plain white T-shirt and cotton pants, his hands undoing his buckle and he let the two ends hang and swing while he admired her record collection.

“What should we listen to?” he said.

Max said, “We can’t play music after ten.”

“They’re going to hear music. I’m going to make Maggie sing all sorts of songs,” Cole said, bent at her stacked and alphabetized vinyl, peering up through his eyebrows at her with a rakish smile.

“Eh-el...” she stammered.

“What’s that?” he said calmly.

“L. Alphabetical. Lester, Richard. Cello. Chi-Chi Nwanoku playing double bass.”

His finger rode the spines of her collection, pausing, then hooking and withdrawing her request.

“Please, hurry,” she said as he read the liner notes.

* * *

Cole set the needle down on the spinning vinyl. Unplugged the headphones from Maggie’s tube amp and the quiet sounds of a cello mournfully wavered from her speakers.

“That’s beautiful, Maggie,” Cole said, ears cocked, listening to the music. He stripped his T-shirt off, and he was bare. Maggie’s eyes went over Cole’s body. Not jacked like Jay was, but still a fit looking guy. Narrow waist and broad shoulders, trim, arms muscular. He had a trail of darker hair from his chest down his belly. Max watched Maggie's eyes dance all over his best friend and she bit and chewed her bottom lip.

Maggie eased up the bed, making room, inviting Cole to return. He came to her, plopped down over her, an arm on either side of her, hovered, took her mouth with a kiss. Her hands came up tentatively, afraid to touch his naked skin intimately. Sucked his cock last night but this was weird. Then she felt him. Two good friends, spent so much time together, and this was the first time she was feeling him with her hands in an intimate way. They touched, flinched back, touched again. They kissed. Then her hands settled on him. Smoothed in slow swipes over his shoulders. They kissed and sucked on each other’s mouths. Her hands explored. Over his shoulders, down his sides. Her skirt was sitting high, her bare legs open on either side of him. Her pussy would be bare between them. He wondered if Cole could feel its heat. He liked that when he made out with her. Sometimes when they kissed and rolled on the bed he would feel her hot little crotch press up against him and it drove him wild.

Max flexed his hands, worked out the tension, cracked his knuckles. His cock was hard. Pressed into the front of his pants uncomfortably. He was hunched over, elbows on knees, intently watching his two best friends be intimate. His mouth was dry as sand. He adjusted his pants, pinched his fly and pulled a tent to ease his discomfort.

Cole was on his knees now, over her, grabbing at her sweater and peeling it over her head. He tossed it to Max's feet. Maggie smiled up at him, nervous again, sheepish smile on her bashful little face. She had her arms folded over her bra. Cole reached around her and undid her bun, let her hair fall around her shoulders.

“I want to see you naked,” he said to her.

“You first,” she said, high and girlish. Cole reached around behind her again and he undid the clasp on her bra. Her straps jumped and slipped down the skin of her upper arms. Maggie was biting her lip again. Cole caressed her arms then his hand went down her bare back and he unzipped her skirt.

Maggie's eyes watched Cole’s, looking to see what he would do next. Took the hem of her skirt and eased it down. Tugging a little at a time, inching it down her waist, down to her hips. She pushed her back into the pillows and he slipped it down under her rump, down her legs and onto the floor. She closed her legs up. Cole kissed her knees.

“Is this my shy Margaret?” he asked her.

She nodded, swallowed a smile.

“Where's that little slut that sucked my cock?” Her swallowed smile blossomed, went wide, showed him her white teeth. Cole raised up, undid his zipper slowly and she watched it open. Pulled his cock out and showed it to her. Walked closer and her legs opened. He bent and kissed her lips once, then up again, held her head and pushed his cock into her mouth. She opened wide for him. Her hands came up and the bra fell, she was naked. He eased his cock in and out of her mouth, running his hands through her hair and holding it straight up over her, letting it fall back down.

“That's a good girl,” he said. “So good at sucking cock. Okay, that's it, that's it...”

He eased his hips back, took it from her and sat between her legs.

“I want to look at you,” he said. “My little Maggie.” She lay back now, her breasts exposed, her nipples scrolled far from her body. Her eyes danced over Cole as he took her in. “My Maggie,” he repeated. “More beautiful than I even thought.”

“You thought about me?”

“Of course. I’ve jerked off to you. Sorry, Max.”

“Did you?” she said, before Max could say anything.

Max swallowed.

“Sure.” He bent and kissed her bare chest, the spot where her heart was, right between her breasts. She heaved and her chest rose to meet him. “Yeah,” he said, “I think about you. You ever think about me?”

“A little,” she said.

“Now we can. Now we can.”

“Max...is...generous...”

Cole turned to him, frowned. “Come on, buddy. You going to watch...”

“He likes to watch,” Maggie said.

Cole’s frown deepened, deciphering meaning in that.

Max got up before he asked if they've done this before and he walked around to the other side of the bed.

Max said, “Did you really...jerk off...to her...”

Cole shrugged. “That's not bad. I never did anything about it. She’s always been my friend. Your girlfriend. I wouldn’t...”

His hand wandered over her body, lay flat on her belly button. “Spread those legs, Margaret.”

She inhaled, a brisk rush of exciting air went into her lungs. She complied. Her legs opened wider for him, showed him her bare sex.

“Do you...really...like it?” she asked.

Max said, “She’s nervous about her...”

“You tell her? ...” Cole said to him.

“Yeah,” he said.

Cole said, “Maggie, you have a perfect little pussy. Tight and pink and wet. Show me how you touch it.”

“No, Cole,” she sighed, her brows going worried.

“Oh, shy Maggie,” he said. He kissed the inside of her knee with his eyes on hers. “Show me how you play with it, Maggie. Show me what feels good.” He kissed lower down her thigh by a fraction.

Maggie’s chest began to surge with her breaths. Hands came to her belly, folded nervously together where she used to have hair. Her eyes narrowed on Cole. Slowly her middle finger extended, curled. Slipped lower over her tightly packed slit. She stroked herself while they both watched, graceful middle finger slipping up and down her slippery pink sex. She was wet already and now she produced more while they watched. Her skin gleamed. The curve of her mound picking up the LED shine and making her high points shimmer white. She trickled her wet. Moved and wiggled her mound apart, brought her labia out for them, worked them open, showed them her bright pink wings, her bubble gum interior. Her hips started to moil against her moving hand. Middle finger hooked and gently inserted, a moan built in her throat but wasn't uttered. “That's it, Margaret. You're a bad girl. You did this a lot in this room...”

She sucked her lips in, held back a gasp, closed her eyes and nodded.

“Such grace, Maggie, look at those elegant fingers. So talented, you play so beautifully.” He lowered between her legs and Max felt his heart race now but he only kissed the back of her hand. Maggie's belly bounced when he did. She moved her hands away, Cole was a breath from her bare and eager pussy. She pushed her sex to him, wanted him to kiss her between her legs. But he retrieved her hand, held it, pulled it to his mouth. Took her shining middle finger that had just been in her body and he took it in his mouth. He sucked her finger and Maggie's mouth fell open.

It was almost too much for Max to take. Weren’t they supposed to just fuck? What was with all this voodoo? He stopped himself from saying something. Wanted to interject, make a funny noise, say something stupid to make them laugh and break this fucking spell between them, but he heard Cole's words echoing from those white-painted Trinity walls. Saying he should commit to this. Wild Man. Do it for her. She was in ecstasy right now. It hurt his heart that it was with his friend but he couldn't take this from her. He rested his hand over her knee closest to him, felt her familiar thin feel, let his fingers drag up the inside of her leg. She liked it. Responded to it. Her eyes were still locked on Cole and her finger disappearing into his mouth but her lips had fallen wider.

Cole raised up, a suspicious smile on his face.