Maggie 2.17 (Patreon)

He saw them. Engaged without him. Fucking without him. She didn’t need him. There was tons of guys who’d fuck her, make love to her, make her laugh, be good to her. Make her hot and sweaty. She didn’t need him.

Cole was fucking her. Maggie clinging to him while he stood, and Max could see that his cock was upright, inserted into her spread sex. Fucking her standing up. Maggie eagerly fucking his friend without a care for him.

But no, he wasn’t going to allow that badness in. She was fucking him because he wasn’t giving her what she needed. She needed boldness and Cole was bold. He would commit.

He was proud of himself. Thinking to get his phone, get the raven head. He could be fun, bold. He could be the one who was her anchor in this thing he’d put out to sea. The raven was hoisted up over his head, he made his way to the entrance to the music room. The head had two small holes in it, partially obscured by its own feathers, and the light was already dim. He made his way towards where he’d last seen them, worried he would tumble off the step and fall naked on the floor at their feet while his girlfriend was fucking a guy with a bigger cock. Found the step, made it safely down, heard snickering now. It was hot and smelly in the head and he whipped it off to their light and quiet applause.

“Hey, you came, buddy,” Cole said.

“Oh Maxy,” Maggie whispered. She was on her feet now, their union disconnected by his fortunate arrival. Maggie came to him with a joyous face, dim, but so expressive he could read it. His heart soared. He’d done the right thing. This was a victory.

“Hey, Secret Society,” Cole said and he took the raven head from under Max’s arm and he walked it to the baby grand piano, a black silhouette in the dark room, its top surfaces lit up with a hazy polished gleam.

Maggie was between them but she walked away. Left both of them and wandered into the cold interior of the cavernous concrete space. It was dark, and the further she got the harder it was to make her out. Max followed her, got a chill thinking about losing her. Went to her, followed behind, said, “If you want an exorcism, I’ll give you one.”

“Thanks,” she said, softly, soberly. Her head lolled on her neck, her eyes in contemplation as they looked at every high corner of the ceiling.

She lowered her eyes to him and said, “That’s what I want, Max.”

“Come here,” he said, and he held both hands out. She stepped close to him and she took them. Held both his hands with hers. Cole was next to them coming out of the dark.

“We’ll do it for you,” he said.

“I’m in,” Maggie said with a light laugh.

Max brought her close to kiss and she stood under him and they put their mouths on one another. Cole pressed his naked body to her back and Max was aware of his hands moving, feeing her ass, coming around and going up over her breasts and working his fingers across her hard swollen nipples, his knuckles grazing Max’s chest.

Then Cole said, “Max, come on,” and he was pulling Maggie from him, leading her to the chair that he had sat and watched her play her cello last night and her magic had brought tears to his eyes.

Maggie put a knee up like she would get on it and one of them could fuck her from behind but Cole pulled her back, said, “Let Max sit there, you stay with me.”

“What?” Max asked.

“Sit on the chair,” Maggie said.

“Okay,” he said, and lowered his bare ass onto the old French chair.

Max could see Cole loom over her shoulder, talking into her ear with a hand over each of her shoulders. He said, “I want you to suck his cock for me. You do that?”

“Yeah,” she laughed.

“Suck it for me,” he said, and he held her down to her knees between his legs. The weirdness and excitement had him as hard as he could be. His cock stuck straight up. Maggie touched it and he bubbled and streamed precum.

“Whhoo,” he exhaled.

“Drink that up for me,” Cole said into her hair as he got to his knees behind her.

Max felt a twinge, his friend seeing his semen come out, about to watch him and Maggie do their intimate thing. Wrong, but something about it drove him. Wanted to do it, wanted Cole to see, wanted things to get worse. Maybe not wanted, but he had a writhing curiosity. Something in him wanted to see how bad Maggie could be.

Maggie took him deep, sucked hard, squeezed his balls and the base of his shaft and he felt himself pulse more into her waiting hungry mouth. She drank it. He closed his eyes, almost shut, but he struggled to keep them wide, not wanting to miss a moment of this. She hummed a nice sound around his cock and he could tell Cole was doing something to her from behind. She bobbed on him, her breaths growing heavy and urgent while she gave him pleasure and Cole touched her sex, or stroked his cock against her.

Her face came away from him, her eyes unfocused, pointed towards him but Max could tell she had every iota of attention focusing on what Cole was doing. Her mouth went wide, a happy turn to the corners, her brows came up high as they would go, and she chuckled, the light laugh forming the word Ow at the end. She bit her lower lip and her eyes went to Max’s, she said, “He’s really big, Max.”

“You don’t have to,” he said.

Her expression changed from surprised curiosity to a fallen pained frown. “Oh, ooh, wait,” she said. Max watched her lips purse as she brought her cupped hand to her chin and she drooled spit into it, her tongue darting out as she spit and filled her wrinkled little bowl. She took her hand, wriggled her fingers as she reached behind her, throwing a look at Cole and giggling. She stroked his shaft with her saliva. Back to Max then, her elbows together between his legs, eyes unfocused again, mouth agape and breathless as Cole resumed his wide intrusion.

“Does it hurt?” he asked her.

“Yeah,” she gasped, “let him, though, let him, ah...”

Cole’s hips worked, one side at a time, easing his size into her anus.

“Yeah,” she encouraged him.

His penetration was producing cracking noses, wet painful sounds. There was a belch of air. No one said a thing.

“Mm, Maggie,” Cole began to hum as he got halfway into her. “Fuck, that is so tight...”

“You’re so thick,” she sighed.

His hands went up her back, and he rubbed her muscles, his fingers digging and massaging. He said, “Relax on it, I don’t want to hurt you, just accept it. Sit like this a minute, feel it...”

“Mm-hmm,” she squeaked and nodded.

“Put your mouth on Max,” he told her.

She did what he told her. Her tongue rolling up Max’s underside, right to his tip, then swallowing him.

Cole gripped her shoulders, found his tie where it was looped around her neck, wound it around and undid the knot. Bundled the tie and let it sit at the small of her waist in a twisted ball. His hands were over her shoulders again, smoothing her upper arms. He led one behind her, then the other. It drove Max’s cock deep into her mouth without her hands out to support herself.

Cole lay one of her fine wrists over the other and his fiancée didn’t protest. She rolled her mouth on his cock stuck in her mouth, one cheek rounded out. The tie was rolled out and Cole worked it under her stacked wrists twice, Maggie only grunting, he believed, because his movements were jostling his cock imbedded in her rear. Max watched the tie weave around now in a complicated way that reminded him of nautical hitches. Like Cole had tied girls up before. Seemed to remember him telling him that one time, maybe back in there first year. Cole could pretend to be as preppy as he wanted to be, growing up near the water in Connecticut, but his father was a personal injury lawyer and Cole had never been sailing in his life. With a careful and deliberate tug he secured her wrists together in an artful bow, pulling snugly the two loose ends of his tie.

He lay himself over her narrow back and he purred, “Fuck, I could be in this ass all night.”

“Mm,” she squeaked around Max’s cock. Her brow grew a crease in the center.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” he asked her.

She nodded, her mouth slipped off him and she lay her face on his thigh. “Ow,” she said quietly.

“It hurts,” he said to Cole.

“Want me to stop?” he said to her.

She nodded. Said, “You’re too big. I want Max.”

“Mm, Maggie,” Cole smiled and backed himself out of her, the withdrawing making all sorts of slick protestations.

She sighed when he was out.

* * *

Cole was too wide to be comfortable. It just didn’t feel sexy. It was hard to concentrate on Max’s pleasure when all she could think about was one wrong move back there and she would be hurt. It was a relief when he was out.

Max pulled her up to him, her thighs and tummy flexing sharply so she would not fall with her hands tied behind her back.

“Come here, Maggie,” he whispered and she flopped her chest on to his, her forehead bouncing onto his chin where her lips were aiming. “Ow,” she laughed.

“You tied too tight?”

“No, I like it.”

“I love you,” he said and his arms went around her.

“I love you too, Max. You know that.”

“I know.”

“Help me up,” she laughed.

“What do you want?”

“Someone needs to fuck me soon. In the front. I’m going to scream, I don’t want any more teasing.”

She felt him laugh.

“What?” she said as he eased her to stand.

“I’ve never heard you talk like that.”

“Sorry,” she said as she turned her back to him.

“No, I like it,” he said and he got her to sit in his lap. Both facing out now they noticed Cole was gone.

“Where’s Cole?” she said over her shoulder.

“I don’t know,” he said to her.

She felt his hand moving, gripping his cock, then his tip poking her anus. It felt stretched, different, opened. She turned her nose up at the thought of what that might look like. “Is it...open?” she asked him.

“Kind of,” he said as he eased himself into her. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. Then hissed to the empty room, “Cole?”

Heard him somewhere in the dark. His feet on concrete. Then the sound of her cello being handled. She bristled. Worried about the potential noise and worried about her good wooden friend.

She heard the strings being plucked.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

Cole came into view holding her cello like it was a guitar.

She stifled a laugh, but seeing him like that also made her nervous. There was a chance for real damage and she didn’t like it.

He plucked the strings again, strummed quietly. He said, “You want an exorcism? Want me to smash your cello?”

“Shit, no,” she gasped.

“Take it down to the beach and set on fire?”

“Cole, no,” she said, her heart hammering.

He raised it up over his head like he would slam it and she yelped. He held it poised, his cock hard and wagging, throwing a shadow across his thigh.

“Say the word, Margaret,” he said.

“Put it down,” she hissed. Max’s cock poked at her insides.

“You want to banish your demons? ...”

“The room, Cole. That cello is my friend.”

“I’d get you a new one with no bad memories...”

“I love my cello,” she said. “And it was fifty grand.”

She heard him whisper Jesus Christ as he carried it back into the dark.

“You okay?” Max said at her shoulder.

“I’m fine, Max. Stop fawning...”

“I just ...I’m here for you...”

“I already know,” she said.