Maggie 4.2 (Patreon)

Max watched Jay wrestle while sitting at the base of a wide Scotch pine on a slight rise from the exhibition area. Jay in his skimpy singlet never lost, manhandling men of the same size and even larger. His muscles popped and bulged. His skin took a wet sheen like the day Max had watched him fuck Maggie while he hid in her roommate’s closet.

Standing in the crowd (watching with lustful intent, he was sure) was his fiancée, the woman he’d followed here. She’d warned him. Told him to keep an eye on her.

She stood in a woolen poncho and skirt, her hair pulled back neatly, a twisting black, blue, and platinum tail down her back. Next to her stood her lover’s father. A man they both knew. Farmingham’s intellectual elite, tenured professor, tall and handsome Professor Carmichael. They watched his impressive offspring get the better of every contender and they applauded.

The matches were held at the foot of the main college building and most people just passed by on the pathways, looking over mildly and not breaking their step. Spectators gathered and watched, but not enough to close the spectacle off completely. It allowed Max to watch from a safe distance. His belly was hard like a rock. His jaw ached from keeping it clenched too long. He couldn't believe she had come here. Couldn't believe that she would want to do this.

His chin came to rest on his knees that he had bent up, feet in the grass, arms around them. Maggie was so beautiful and he couldn't love her more. He watched her profile, her exquisitely shaped jaw and pouting lips, her long black lashes scoring her narrow sultry eye. She looked nervous but excited just the same. She hadn’t expected Professor Carmichael to be there he figured, given her reaction to his greeting.

His phone buzzed in his hand and he flipped it around to see the screen. His brother, Connor.

“What’s up, dipshit?” he said as an introduction.

“Dude, you’re not coming home?”

“Nah. I have too much work to do. I’ve...fallen way behind...”

“Shit, man. I didn’t know you weren’t coming home...”

“What? ...What about Mike?”

“Nah, he’s not coming either.”

“That’s last minute...”

“Yeah, some girlfriend or some shit.”

Jay had been off to the side, his matches done, but now he was being waved on again. He strode out with energy, reattaching his headgear as he went. When he faced his opponent in the center he crouched low, his head up, watching the other wrestler from under his brow. He didn't look mean or fierce. Calculating. That's what it was. He knew he could beat this other guy, just was waiting to see how this other guy would let him win. He didn't need to get in the opponent’s head, didn’t need trickery of any kind. He would win with skill and strength. And he did, the first point going to him in under five seconds.

Max said, “It’s just Columbus Day, Connor. I’ll see you at Thanksgiving.”

“Mm,” he hummed with irritation. “So... What? ...You going to Maggie’s?”

“No, I’m solo, I told you. I have a total shit-ton of reading to catch up on. She’s going home by herself. Her parents have her booked up. She’s picking out her wedding dress.”

“That’s nice,” he said, the speaker on his phone muffled and his voice was constrained with exertion.

“What are you doing?”

“Laying on the couch.”

“You’re at home? You’re already there?”

“Yeah. Why you think I’m mad? If I knew you and Mike weren’t coming I could’ve just bailed...”

“How’s Mom and Dad?”

“Fine. Dad’s at work. Mom’s making me breakfast right now.”

Max laughed, “You sound mad, but everything you’re saying seems pretty good...”

“I know, I know. I’m going to be bored.”

“You got a girl you’re missing?”

“Me? No.”

“How about that blonde girl? . . . Marley?”

“Yeah, I see her sometimes. Others too...”

“Hound dog.”

“Love ‘em and leave ‘em, Maxy.”

“Mm. You don’t know what you’re missing.” Maggie was applauding now, her pale hands coming together in furtive delicate resounding. The claps sounded disjointed and distant in all this open space. Her ponytail shook with her movements.

Jay was back up again, tugging at the legs of his shorts, getting down in a crouch to start it all over.

“Yeah, you’re a lucky guy. How is Maggie?”

“The best,” he said, watching her watch her lover throw lesser men around, knowing she was excited, knowing that her heart rate would be elevated by this other man.

“Yeah, too good for you, that’s for sure.”

“Don’t say that.”

“You keep an eye on her, buddy. She might catch on what a pathetic little worm you are.”

“Fuck you.”

Connor laughed with honest jubilation, always happy to land one too close to the mark. “Nah, I have faith in you. You’ve fooled her this long, you got that wool right over her eyes.”

He heard his mother’s voice in the background then. Her familiar lilting sing-song, calling out, Con-nor, break-fast.

“Better go feed your fat fucking face, asshole,” Max said with comical coldness.

Connor laughed, said, “You bringing her to Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah,”

“Tell her I said hi, buddy.”

“I will.”

“Ciao. Gotta go annihilate a dozen pancakes and some bacon.”

“See you,” he said, turning the call off without taking his eyes away from his dirty little Maggie.

The match was wrapping up below. While Max discussed home life at the Milton Compound, he’d watched Jay take down and submit or score on the bigger farm-boy. The farm-boy wasn’t angry—as though Jay was already determined the winner. Like he won by pedigree. So far the obvious champion his opponent merely submitted to fate, not once believing he would be the victor at all. Jay was certainly the center of attention. His teammates deferred to him, the coaches doted. A camera crew, one with a professional looking setup befitting national news had recorded the activities but the camera mostly had followed Jay. And up front, most telling of all, was the woman he was engaged to marry. She stood side by side with Jay’s father and she watched him. Watched her lover display his masculine superiority with his tight unitard and his muscles and his bulge noticeable even from here. Shouldn’t they be made to wear jockstraps? It was vulgar.

But in many ways, Max admired him.

* * *

She should have told Professor Carmichael something. Said something about how she knew Jay and why he might hold her hands and kiss her cheek. Instead, she had said nothing, and let the moment pass. Like she was too afraid to mention it, afraid he would read her guilt in her voice, in her face, so instead she ventured nothing. But that was an admission of a sort, just the same. It wasn’t the reaction of someone who was only an innocent friend of his son; someone who would say what a great guy Jay was, how she knew him, how they met... She said nothing, and in that nothing was volumes. Volumes of weight and meaning. What did he think?

He was smart. He knew his son’s worth, knew what appeal he had. Probably could read in his son’s attention to her that they had been intimate. So profoundly embarrassing.

When the match had ended, Jay had signaled to her with two fingers, mouthing the phrase Twenty minutes with a nod, a wink, and a confident smirk. Professor Carmichael had said he had to meet a colleague for lunch and politely extricated himself from her company with a plastic smile. He did, however, pause, look down thoughtfully, and then he told her he was serious about his office being open to her. That if she needed to talk, he would love to listen. There was a passing glimmer in his eye, something warm, and in that moment she felt some of the fiery shame extinguished. She thanked him; he waved and slipped into the pathway traffic.

Now she sat on a granite boulder protruding from the grass at the edge of a path near the door she had seen Jay disappear beyond. The sun was bright and its touch was warm but the air had a chill. Nonetheless, she had her bare legs stretched out straight and held together, the heels of her loafers pitched in the grass. She didn’t like to get sun, liked her pale pinkness, but the feel of it was nice.

Her mind wandered to Jay and what he might be doing. The dirty thought crossed her mind that he would be naked right now, standing under a spigot of hot water, rubbing slippery soap all over his hard muscles. She entertained the notion of slipping in there, imagining him alone, without his teammates. She could come in behind him, watch him a moment. Then, when he caught her looking, he would take her, pin her to the wall. And unlike the day in the co-ed washrooms of Keegan, when she had clumsy sex with her Max, she imagined Jay would pick her up and throw her around like a toy; she could run her hands over him while he banged her off every wall in the boys washroom. Her legs up around his hips, his big arms wrapped around her, that big thing he had penetrating her substantially, no matter the angle. Then she pictured him not alone. Pictured his whole team watching, wondered what shape their faces would form as they bore witness to their team captain fuck some little naked whore in the shower. Some tramp who wandered in looking for some action...

“Maggie?”

She flinched; her legs jumped and her knees drew up as if to protect herself. In that moment she was distinctly aware of a warm lubrication in the creases between her legs.

She laughed seeing Jay’s face in comical puzzlement. Her sunglasses had shielded her eyes, and he struggled to read her expression. He said, “Did you fall asleep?”

“I might have,” she laughed, her hands coming up and absently testing the heat on her cheeks, worried she was blushing. She put her sunglasses in her pocket.

He held his hand out to her and helped her to stand, said, “Let me buy you a coffee before you have to go.”

“I'd love that,” she said, and when she stood she didn't let his hand go.

It was a weird moment. She stood with him, looking up into his eyes. They stared at each other for a long while, faces working in restrained mirth, eyes darting and studying, trying to glean from one another what each of them intended. They broke into smiles and Jay kept her hand in his and led her to the path.

“You did well out there,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said. “Just an exhibition.”

“Your dad said you're going to the Championships...”

Jay laughed, shrugged. “That’s a long time from now. A lot can happen.”

“I have faith in you,” she said and squeezed his hand.

“One thing at a time. Conference is next month. How about you? I want to pose for you again...”

“I’m finished.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry. I couldn't have it hanging over me. That drives me crazy. I used other models.”

“Did I let you down?”

“Not at all, Jay. It's...I'm getting married in the summer.”

Shoulders hunched, he rolled his head around.

She continued, “I canceled on you. I...I feel so guilty about what we did.”

“Don’t feel guilty,” he said without looking at her.

“I do. And this? ...” she said while giving his strong hand a squeeze, “...is so dangerous. You know I know your dad? Well, you come up to us after I finished telling him I was getting married this summer. You kissed my cheek and held my hands... Your dad knows Max.”

“I was excited to see you.”

She glanced at him, gave him a smile. “You gushed.”

“It wasn't very manly, was it?” He smiled now too.

Truth was it had turned her insides to jelly. If his father hadn't been standing at her side, she would have crammed her tongue down his throat.

He said, “I don't know where that puts us. You don't need me to pose for you, you're getting married, it's dangerous to be seen with me...but you're here...you came to see me...you're holding my hand...”

She stopped, and he stopped with her. They stood still on the path and pedestrians passed around their obstruction. Looking in his eyes made her heart beat furiously. She struggled with what to say and Jay’s gaze lowered to her lips, parted and struggling to form words.

“Maggie, I think about you all the time. I think about what we did, how you felt, your skin...”

He brushed his knuckles against her cheek.

“I didn't say I didn't want the danger.”

Gray eyes roamed her face, his hand dropped to cradle her jaw. His plump lips lowered to hers and her eyes closed, her lips parted, and she let herself be kissed.