Maggie 3.8 (Patreon)

Her chest heaved in and out. Her mouth was full of sheets or something cotton. Her hair clung to her face. What Cole had started Max had finished.

Her future husband slipped his cock out of her and bounced in the bed next to her. Max was as out of breath as she was. Her hand came up, fingers clawing the bedding out of her mouth, clearing her airway. She coughed. Her eardrums rang. She rolled against her Maxy, his hot skin pressed to her hot skin. They were both wet with a sheen of beaded sweat. She cuddled him, put her ear in his armpit and kissed his nipple, her hand lay over his belly, his still-hard cock pointing up and to the side, glistening wet with semen and what she'd produced from her insides. His chest rose up and down in double time, and the tremor of his rampant heartbeat shook his skin.

He gulped air, struggling to say something, finally gasped, "Holy shit...oh my God...was that...fucking great or what?"

"That was fucking great," she gulped as well. And it was. Max hit all her spots. Physically and mentally, and having sex with him wiped the slate clear in a way. All the badness, all the wrong and improper things that she and their best friend had done tonight when they were alone were now underwater (or under a wave of Max’s semen at least). Max was her lover, Max was her mate. Cole was just fun. Having wild and passionate sex with Max put things in their proper alignment. However, laying now with her ear on her Max’s body, hearing his ghostly wind, she was haunted by two thoughts. The things he’d said to her, and the things she said to herself. Secret things, dark ideas that when conjured tickled her in such a strange way she was drawn to them, pulled to them like a bearing to a magnet.

“Max?”

“Maggie?” he whispered, and she felt him kiss the crown of her head. He gripped her arm and held her to him.

“You don’t think... those things you said... you don’t really think I’m a slut?”

“Of course not, Maggie. It’s just... dirty talk... you know.”

“Okay.” But while it was dirty talk to him there was something in those words that excited her and ruined her. It made her base and low and she was so frightened to be that, yet when she was named slut it turned her on.

“Baby,” he called, and he was half laughing, taking her chin and tilting it up so he could look in her eyes. “How could you think I really think that?”

“Well, I am, in a way.”

“No, you’re not, Maggie.”

“Okay,” she said.

He kept his smirk, a look of concern in his eyes, but he kissed her. Pressed his lips to hers fully and held them together. She ran her nails over his chest.

“Are you a slut?” he asked her when he pulled his lips from hers. “I mean... do you want me to say that anymore?”

She felt herself blush a little, felt a heat rise to her cheeks. “Yeah,” she said. “I don’t know why, but I like it.”

“That’s okay. I don’t know why, but I like it when you say Cole is better than me.”

She cuddled closer to him, got as close as she could, pressing her thighs to him even. She kissed his nipple again, said, “I like saying that to you.”

For whatever the reason, she found that sweet and endearing. For so long she’d thought of her Max as being sexually superior. When she met him she was practically a virgin. She’d had bad and clumsy sex one time, and one time only. Max was handsome and funny and cool, and he had no problems getting girls. He was dating when she met him. She was so foreign to that world, so frightened by it. It was nice to know he had his own set of hang-ups.

He said, “You like saying those things? . . . You’re so dirty.”

“Turns out I am.”

Max sighed, said, “God, that was incredible. You know—I wasn’t even in the mood?”

“You weren’t?”

He laughed. “Uh... no.”

“Hard to believe.”

Max said with hesitation, “I just... I don’t know... thought about you... with Cole, and I got so mad, but so...”

She was listening and biting her lip. She whispered, “Horny?” Then resumed chewing the inside of her mouth.

“Yeah... so horny... crazy.”

Her mouth worked around, her brow lowered. She felt a rising guilt but it was at sword points with her second haunting thought.

There was enormous excitement in cheating.

When she saw Max in the hall outside her dorm room she was so happy...then, she was consumed by the terrible things she’d done tonight. Her smile and warmth had been honest but every step closer Max came she was set on fire with her duplicity. The flames rose up from between her legs, like a wildfire, ate up her insides until by the time she kissed Max she’d been completely immolated. Maybe that was why she shaved her pubic hair off. Some sort of swailing to prevent the fire’s spread. A controlled, prescribed burn.

“What’s so funny?” he asked her as she gently shook against him.

She wiped an errant beaded tear from her lower lid and giggled. “Me,” she said. “I’m funny.”

“Hey,” he said, taking her chin again and making her look at him. He kissed her lips. “I love you so much.”

“Max, I love you too,” she said.

And she did. That was what made her awful indiscretion so exciting. She cared what he thought. She didn’t want to hurt him. But she wanted Cole. She wanted him so bad. She’d wanted to make love with Cole tonight (no, fuck, Maggie, you wanted to fuck Cole) that she was left unfulfilled and aching. By not fucking him, she had created an illness in her body. She needed him.

Then, confronted by innocent Max, it was like his love was a mirror and it was reflecting her lugubrious hidden truth back at her. And while she was horrified by the image, she was also driven wild by it. In that image she was naked, Cole was naked, and their heaving bodies banged against one another and her hair tangled, and her nails raked...

When Max wanted to go down on her, she panicked. He would smell the Vaseline. He would smell Cole. Her man would smell another man. Her infidelity would be discovered. And while she was relatively blameless, the notion that she would have another man’s smell on her and it would have to be kept hidden was...exciting. And what if he were to remove her top? Would he see the frosted glaze on her chest? ...The shine of another man’s sexual product. The notion, even now, had an intoxicating air. The fear of being discovered was so thrilling, so intense, that sex with Max had given her a screaming orgasm.

* * *

“I’m okay, you know? I mean, we’re okay.”

Max said, “We are?”

She looked up to his eyes and wiggled herself against him. “I mean it. I really do love you. This wouldn’t be as much fun without you.”

“As much fun,” he said worriedly.

“You know what I mean.”

“It sounds like it would be something you would do without me.”

“Have sex with other men? If you and I weren’t together? Yeah, I would, Max. And it would be fun.”

He groaned quietly but painfully and his eyes narrowed with a frown.

“What?” she said. “I’m saying I like having you with me.” She ran her hand around his belly button in clockwise circles.

“Maggie... Did you really not... did you have sex with Cole tonight?”

“Wait... What we did at my house was incredible, Max. I love that we’re doing this together, I love that we’re doing it with Cole, too.”

His hand moved to her shoulder and he held her. “You were alone with him tonight.”

They held each other’s gaze and she kept her expression even. There was a yearning there in his eyes, and she could sense it in the tension in his grip on her shoulder. She broke away, lowered her eyes to consider him.

“Someone’s getting aroused,” she whispered. Max had grown hard again. Hadn’t really even managed to go down really but his renewed swelling was evident. His cock poked out straight and true and red and pulsing. He was completely, fully and gloriously erect. Her badness aroused him. She did this to him.

She put a fingertip on his hole and pressed down. His stiffness was striking. Max watched her hand work, watched her test his magnificent hardness, watched her explore her man with just the point of her finger. She went around his corona and he groaned. She tickled it under its narrow chin. Down his cable, his corpus spongiosum, then over his tight scrotum, scrutinizing the shape of his testicles in their sticky hairy bag.

“Did you do something or not, Maggie?”

“Your hard little cock tells me you wanted me to.”

“It’s not little, Maggie, come on.”

She shrugged, looked in his eyes, saw she had his complete attention. “Compared to my other men, you’re small.”

His mouth worked around. His expression didn’t grow in anger; if anything, it softened. Attuned to her words, seemingly eager for more, his eyes stayed on hers.

“You’ve seen both my lovers. Their cocks are magnificent.”

He bit his lip. She wrapped her grip on his aching hardness and watched his eyes narrow. He was steely, hot; its pulse fluttered in her hand. She stroked him.

His hand pushed her shoulder and he held her gently, getting her attention and looking in her eyes.

“Maggie, honestly... Did you do something?”

“You tell me, Maxy. You’re my lover, you’re my man... You tell me. Look in my eyes and tell me what you see.”

He stared into her while she slowly jerked his cock, giving him a light and caring grip. After a while, he said weakly, “I don’t know, Maggie. Just tell me.”

“You tell me. If it’s not in my eyes, maybe it’s somewhere else...”

“What do you mean?” he said, his eyebrows going up in the middle.

She said with a smile, “You think I did something? You think I’m that kind of girl? . . . Launch an investigation.”

He snorted breath through his nose, his smile uncertain, his brow lowered now, eyeing her suspiciously. They lay face to face, sharing a pillow, Max’s hips thrust out to her so she could get a good grip on his erection.

“When you texted me...”

“Yeah?” She stroked gently.

“I saw you. You weren’t in the North quad. You said you were.”

“Uh-oh,” she said, a cocky grin on her lips, performing for him, attuning to him, gaging her lover through his beautiful eyes and the hardness in her hand. A feeling of guilt washed up but she didn’t hate it. His cock told her she didn’t need to hate it. She was being careful with him, walking carefully through his sexual minefield. She wanted to caress his hurt not wield it like a weapon.

“What do you mean Uh-oh? What does that mean?”

“Don’t stop... look in my eyes, Max.”

“Did you... you lied. You were with Cole...”

“You knew I was with Cole.”

“You were with him.”

“I told you I wasn’t with him.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m not saying anything. You’re doing all the talking. What do you think I did?”

“You fucked him.”

“I told you I didn’t.”

“Sucked him?” His voice was tight and worried. Had she sucked him again? He’d sat mutely on her beach last weekend and did nothing to prevent her from sucking their Best Man’s cock. He wanted it to happen, but he hated himself for it.

His cock went slick and she looked down to see it shining wetly again, pumping out a flux of clear lubricating excitement, her poor boy’s distress somehow deeply connected with his sexuality. He was handsome and he was smart and she loved him but something in him was excited by her badness and a certain slippery fear that he seemed to crave.

“I wanted to, but no...”

“Why did you text me... and say...”

“I’m a liar.”

“Why?”

“You’ll never know.”

“Come on Maggie, seriously...”

“We were planning a surprise party...”

“It’s not funny.”

“Tell me, Max... Tell me your worst fear. I want to know what the worst thing is.”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, but she saw in those eyes that he did know. She also saw that he would tell her. That dark shadow in him wanted her to know. It was a little timid, but if she rubbed his slippery cock a little she could get it to spill the beans.

“Tell me, Max... tell me... What were you afraid we were doing. Fucking? Worse? Tell me your fears, Maxy.”

“Fucking... leaving me out... laughing at me behind my back. Lying to me...”

“Am I lying?”

“You lied about where you were.”

“Was I... bad?”

“Were you?”

She let her hand off him. His cock wagged stiffly, glistening with his precum.

“Was I bad, Max?” she said, emphasizing her words to him, looking fiercely in his eyes as she rolled away and lay on her back and drew her knees up.

He watched her with befuddlement. He looked up and down her body and she tingled with anticipation... She could be discovered. Her bad secrets could be revealed! She writhed in the sheets. Max pursed his lips and chewed the inside of his mouth. He raised up on an elbow and her heart began to race.

His hand rested across her bare leg, curling lightly over and his fingertips pressing in the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. A cat-like groan escaped her and it was a surprise. Her legs worked up and down, her bare soles sliding along the bare sheets while he handled her so close to her sex. She watched his face and he was still stricken with puzzlement but she kept his eye and wanted him to understand.

“Were you... bad?”

She sucked her lips into her mouth as he sat up. Got to his knees then and she clamped her thighs together. He walked himself to her feet and he rested his grip on her two knees.

“Were you bad, Margaret?”

“Only Cole calls me Margaret, okay?” His features fell, the tension gone, the energy gone, his face looked deflated.

“Why?” he said.

“I like it when he says it. I’m your Maggie. Look at me... I’m your Maggie.”

His mouth forced a grim resolved line and he spread her legs wide.

“Oh, Max,” she sighed, feeling the rush of her cool dorm room air touch all her hot wet flesh. She was exposed to him, her bare sex, shaved and spread. His eyes were fixed on her, his gaze looking directly on her pink slash, She flexed all her muscles, her hips and glutes flexing and releasing, an enormous... what? Itch? Something building inside her . . . a profound desire.

She whispered, “Kiss it.”

His eyes kept their stare. “It’s a mess.”

She giggled, softly, breathy. “What does it look like?”

“A pink oyster, twisted... it’s leaking...”

“Yeah?” she sighed, high and desperate. “Is it your come?”

His eyes went to hers now, a slight attitude of worry passing his face. “Is that my come?”

She whispered, “Taste it.”

A tremor passed his jaw, his eyes stayed on hers, but his body began to slump down the bed, his face gradually coming between her legs. He kissed the inside of her thigh and got her quivering. Her hands went down to encourage him, weaving fingers through his hair and running her nails over his scalp. When his lips touched her sex it was like a thump in her belly. It heaved and trembled. His mouth was hot and wet and he made love to her sex. Parting her lips, kissing and running his tongue over her, where she’d been dirtied, not caring if the semen leaking from her might be mixed with his best friend’s. So turned on right now, turned on by her, that he would put his mouth to her defilement.

“That’s it, baby,” she cooed. His pace was slow and loving and she ground into him purposefully, syncopating with his movement and his pressure to find the perfect, most thrilling feel to her sopping wet pussy.

She got his attention, put her hands on his cheeks and held his face, his ears between her fingers—when his eyes met hers she said, “Is that your come?”

His wet eyes trembled, holding her gaze, he said, “I don’t know.”

“Come here.”

She guided him to her mouth and he came up, got on all fours over her, his body heat warming her, his hot hard cock slipping across her flesh. She kissed him. Held his face steady in her hands and locked her mouth on his. He kissed her hungrily and she met it with eager desire. Their mouths twisted and sucked and after a long while, where she sucked all the wet from him, she pulled back and said, “That’s your come. That’s my Max’s come. Cole’s tastes different.”

“Oh fuck... oh Maggie,” he said and he looked on the verge of going wild.

“I’m bad.” She grinned for him.

“You’re so fucking bad,” he gasped. “Why won’t you take your top off?”

“Don’t make me...”

“What are you hiding?” he said, rearing up and slipping his hands up her shirt, his warm loving hands coming up to her bra. He explored her breasts, watching her, concerned. He assumed he’d find her without a bra but she was wearing one. She smiled. Hooked his thumbs under the hem of her sweater then, under her shirt, and he peeled them up, slowly revealed her stomach. He kissed her, his eyes on hers. Now he was kissing where Cole had spurted his semen. All over her belly, all up her chest. Max kissed higher, running his tongue around and through her tight little belly button. She caressed his face. He worked higher, licking and suckling.

“What did you do with him?” he whispered to her.

“You tell me.”

“Maggie, stop it.”

“Did you taste him on my belly?”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t cheat.” Her hand slipped down his bare stomach, watched his face while her hand slid so slow along his tummy, gripped his cock again, renewed her stroking. His head slumped forward. “You’re so hard, Max. You love your bad girl.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She slipped her hand up and down him, producing more precum from him, feeling her own wetness rising. “What if I did this for Cole?”

“Jerk him off?” he groaned, his eyes worried but so narrowed they were almost closed.

She licked her lips, said, “What if he came all over my stomach and you were kissing me there?”

“Did you?”

“Picture it, picture it for me, Max,” she said, her stroke feathering him at his tip.

“Maggie, p-please tell me... did you jerk Cole off?”

“I didn’t cheat, I told you. Maybe I used my hands... that’s not really cheating.”

“Mm, you made him come?”

“Yeah, I might have. Not inside me, Max... but I couldn’t keep my hands off your best friend.”

His legs began to writhe. “Did he make you come?”

“Yeah, maybe. He makes me come so hard.”

His eyes sparked now, narrow but intense. “How? Maggie, how did he make you come?”

She whispered, “That’s private.”

“Private?”

“I don’t want to say.”

“Why not?”

“You like your bad Maggie, or not?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe we played around a little, maybe we made out, Max. I was as good as I can be but you know how hot your best friend is. You know how good looking he is...”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe we just played with each other. Maybe we tried to be good... we love you so much, Max, but we can’t keep our hands off each other.”

“Did you?”

“Maybe, Max... it’s a secret.”

He stared into her, his expression in a purgatory between pain and pleasure. Part of him horrified at what his girl did behind his back, the other part of him excitingly evident in her soft grip. Max was hard as he could be, harder than she’d ever felt him, she was sure. He was endlessly streaming his precum. She had him trembling and stupefied. His lips trembled.

“Where’s that smile, Maxy? Show me that smile...we’re having fun.”

His mouth opened to say something, but he only croaked.

She slowed her luxurious stroking, said, “If you don’t smile, I’ll stop.”

He forced his lips to a line that crawled into an uneasy and artificial smile.

“You want this, don’t you?”

“Yeah...”

“Do you?” she said again, resuming a full and fast stroke on his shaft, down into his pubic hair, making his balls jiggle.

“Mm, ah, fuck I do,” he gasped.

She slowed again, whispered, “Kiss me.”

Their lips came together and she felt in his soft pouting union a devotion to her. She had what he needed.

“Max, maybe once Cole and I were kissing...maybe he took his cock out...”

He moaned and his kiss broke, his forehead pressing to hers. His hips gently thrust against her stroke.

“And when his cock was out... I couldn’t not put my hand on it.”

“You couldn't?”

Her other hand came to his scrotum, gripped his balls and squeezed them carefully. “He’s so hot, Max. His body, his face... God, his big cock...”

“You did it without me?” he gasped.

“I can’t help it, Max. I’m such a slut.”

“You are...”

“You told me.”

“You are a slut.”

“That’s it,” she whispered, her fist pumping him with a feathery grip. She kissed his lips, said, “You love your little slut...”

“I do. I fucking do.”

She said, “You should keep your eye on her.”

“I-I should?”

“She’s so bad. So hungry. So horny. I wonder what she’s going to do.”

“Whats sh-she going to do?”

“She’s going to be bad. Make sure you watch her. She can’t be trusted.”

Max’s hand came up and he pushed her bunched shirt and sweater higher, hooked a thumb underneath and formed a V, hoisting it above her breast bone.

“That’s it, Maxy, you want to come on my tummy?”

“Yeah,” he gasped.

“You want to come where Cole came?”

“Did he... did he... come on you?”

“I stroked that fat cock of his like this and I watched it in my hand, Max, watched his foreskin, watched that big cock head ripple in my fist, Max, he has such a big sexy cock...”

He sobbed and bucked, thrust his hips, drove his cock in and out of her wet hand. She gripped his balls tightly.

“Kiss me, Max, kiss me where he came on me, kiss my chest.

He hunched, crying and sweating, groaning. Her hand pumped him furiously and he leaked over her knuckles. His mouth sucked on her clumsily, he snorted breath through his nose in heaves and starts and for a brief moment she felt pity for him. She felt she had taken him too far. His cock was like an iron column, his arousal complete, but he cried tears on to her skin.

She kissed the top of his head, stroked him faster, whispered to him, “We don’t laugh at you. We love you. We both love you so much, baby...”

His hand clutched at her shoulders, his fingertips dug deeply into her, hurting her, bruising her bones. He chugged and jumped, a creak, long and low came from him as his body went tense and immobile. Her belly was abruptly spattered with his hot seed and her grip on him went liquid. She stroked him lovingly and felt his endless cascade on her skin.

“That’s it baby, give me your come, baby. Cole and I love you, Maxy, that’s it...”

She let his balls go, rubbed his back, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck. Still he came, pulsing jets weakening to pattering spurts. Soon she slowed and she held him in her hand, her stroking turning to a caress, easing eventually to cradling. He breathed and heaved, his sobs abated and he held her.

* * *

His head pounded fiercely. She’d given him an orgasm like no other he’d ever had. He felt sheets of shame wash over him. Shame and love and fear and ecstasy. He was over her on all fours, his head buried in her neck, her hand soothing his back, her other one gently holding his fading erection. Her hand on him cold and wet from his semen. She stayed with him, held him while he recovered.

She’d coaxed from him the silt that congregated in the darkest corners of his mind. The dirt and filth that secretly accumulated in the creases of his every day life. She wanted them, wanted to see them, did it with love and care and she shared with him his shame and didn’t judge him for it. He felt emptied and each beat of his heart, held in the arms of the woman he loved, brought him out of his darkness, brought him into the light, made him feel accepted and cared for. While he’d embarrassed himself to her, revealed to her his weakness, his fear, emasculated himself, he felt wondrously accepted. He breathed, a smile came to him. He’d been emptied of the black. She’d pulled it from him, cleaned out all those dark seams. He laughed.

She laughed now too, her hand soothing his back again. Her touch was magnificent and loving. And as he sighed into her he was suddenly aware that while she had emptied him, cleaned out his filth, he couldn’t wait for it to accumulate again and have her purge him all over. Get himself dirty so she could keep him sanitized.

He emerged from the warm cave, the hollow of her neck, his mouth traveled her jaw and he found her lips with his own; kissed her. Held her face in his hands and she rested her cold semen hands on the crease of his hips. When he broke from her he looked in her eyes. There was nothing he could say, a connection to her he felt that was so profound his words would be clumsy. They smiled together.

She head-butted his chin gently, tapped him three times, whispered, “Okay, get off me.”

He fell next to her side, lay on his back and she sat up slowly, her tummy hunched, streaming with his white evidence. Her hands were in her lap, formed in wet claws.

She said, “You want to know what I did with Cole, but I'm not going to tell you.”

“Why not?”

“I want to have my secrets.”

He exhaled til he was empty, pushed all the air out of his body while he thought about the things she might do behind his back. “Secrets...from me?”

He could feel her shrug as she sat next to him. She said, “They're there to discover, but you’re not going to hear it from me.” She got to her knees, walked on them and her elbows, her hands curled like wet spiders. There was a T-shirt on her dresser, clean and neatly folded but she yanked it down and ran her hands through it. Her ass was up in the air, her glistening labia exposed to him. She was bare below her waist except for long rainbow striped socks that came just below her knee. He rubbed a thumb over her heel, and she flinched and he smiled seeing her labia wink at him. He slapped her ass cheek lovingly.

There were things, he imagined, that his girl wanted from this. Things she wanted to experience with other men. He’d sent her on this path to suit his own whim and fantasy but she had a brain and a heart all her own. It was her curiosity that brought them to where they were now. Her curiosity was a healthy thing. He said, “Like Maggie and her figure model?”

He was aware now of her head slowly rotating to face him over her shoulder. She said, “What do you mean?”

“You know...you told me...you touched him...”

“Oh...”

“Did you do more than that?”

“No...not behind your back. You saw it all. I miss him, you know?”

“Miss Jay?”

She nodded without looking his way. Then she was climbing the bed, back to him on all fours. She lay by his side and put her chin on his arm.

He said, “We have Cole...”

She said, “Doesn’t mean I don’t think about Jay.”

“Do you?” he said, suppressing a whine that wanted to accelerate his voice through restricted passages.

She held up his hand in both of hers. She took her left hand and ran her fingers between his, piggy-backing it. Her engagement ring sparkled in the light.

He’d bought her that ring last Christmas when he knew he would propose. There was no other girl for him ever. He knew it the way you knew things in your life were absolutes. Knew it like he knew he needed air to breathe and light to see. So last Christmas, home in Michigan to stay with his family for the Holidays, he made his intentions known to his mother father, and siblings. There was no dissension. Who wouldn’t love little beautiful, smart and funny Maggie Becker? His Dad had a Dad-crush on her. her mother doted on her. His brothers... Well, they’d even admitted dirty thoughts about her, though he suspected they were fictional, just trying to rile him. They thought she was the one too. So he went with his brothers down to the jeweler and bought her this symbol of his devotion.

Maggie broke his reverie, whispered, “Whatever happened in Cole’s room, Max, you don’t have to worry. We would never laugh at you.”

“You’re going away...”

“I am.”

“I don’t know if I can be without you right now. You’re gone the whole weekend. The holiday weekend.”

“To buy a wedding dress...for our wedding...”

“It’s going to kill me to not be near you. I need you...”

“Five whole days, Maxy...”

“He turned and held her cheek. “Maggie, I’m going to think about you every minute.”

“Can you trust me? ...”

“Yes. Can’t I? ...”

“I’m a liar.”

He joked, “What are you going to do. Go home and fuck Lee?” He ran his thumb over her beautiful cheekbone.

“He’s not the only guy I know in Rhode Island.”

His features slumped. “Don’t.”

“You never know, Max.”

He kissed her forehead sweetly.

She smiled and it wasn’t malicious or mean, not even sly. It was endearing and kind. She said, “If I were you I wouldn’t trust me one bit.”