Maggie 4.3 (Patreon)

Max sighed when he saw Jay’s lips come together against Maggie’s. Jay had plump lips, still masculine, and he and Maggie had pressed together so slowly that Max could witness the soft shapes osculate against one another; press and squash and join in some combined shape, two sets of lips becoming one.

Jay stood taller than Maggie, his head bent to hers, one big hand on her waist, the other holding her face to be kissed, stilling her against his gentle passion. Max’s heart beat strongly once, a powerful surge, his ears rang; his cock grew. Maggie came up ever so slightly on her toes to meet Jay’s kiss; a line of muscle stood out along the side as her calves flexed on her slim, pretty legs.

When they came away, Maggie still held Jay’s gaze. They stared into one another and Jay licked his lips. Letting her chin go, he took up her hand, and they walked down the path again.

Max stayed close, but not so close that one of them might discover him. He wasn’t sure if Jay even knew what he looked like. Jay knew Max existed. Knew, and had such little respect for the sanctity and protocol of a wedding engagement that he’d seduced Maggie, then fucked her in her own dorm room. Jay was a player. Dominant, and masculine, and smart. He’d played dumb games with Maggie almost as though he didn’t respect her either. I mean, telling her he needs to jerk off to make an erection go down. That wasn’t true. Jay lied to her; thought she was sexually immature enough to fall for that. What was he up to? What did he want from Maggie? Was it only sex?

Weaving through Drillfield, meandering gravelly paths, flattened grass, dirt trails, Jay and Maggie came to a wide concrete walk that ran under towering oak trees with leaves that had lost their vibrant fall color, still hanging in their branches, gone the shade now of bright ochre. Max lost sight of them a few times in the fluxing throng of students. Keeping his pace, he didn’t panic, and caught up with them. They still held hands. It made him hard. The jacket he wore reached the tops of his thighs, and he kept his arousal pointing up; no one would see it.

Soon Jay and Maggie came to another clearing. They were away from the parking lot, deep in the campus, and now in a different park. This one lesser in scale, more pronounced in substance. Tiered planters, a fountain, benches, there was an open field beyond, tree-lined, bordered by a dense wood. The grass plain was dotted with tight clutches of students gathered on blankets, laying under broad elm trees, chatting, napping, and reading. There were two separate groups playing frisbee, and one group playing Hacky Sack. To the right, near the fountain, was a small, low building with a peaked roof, styled to mimic a Swiss mountain chalet. It was an open-air café with a lineup of students waiting to order coffee from the uniformed baristas standing at a polished wood counter.

Jay took Maggie by the hand and they waited in line. Max wandered past them, keeping his distance, looped around the fountain, then lingered hidden behind it and watched. They stood in line, their hands together. How long were they going to do that for? It seemed so loving. This was more than just being bad, being naughty, this was distinctly cheating now. Holding hands was an act of affection, not lust. Why would she want that from another man?

The two of them talked, flashed smiles at one another that seemed to sparkle in the fall sunshine. Maggie cocked her head as Jay spoke, absorbing his words, responding with affectionate nods. They ordered.

When their drinks were ready, they took them and walked near the fountain, side by side—no longer holding hands—and they crossed between the two thick elm trunks, into the grass, and wandered through the field.

Max angled left, walking the path, eyes on them. The path crossed an iron bridge over a stream. At the edges of the stream were woods that lined its banks. The same woods that formed the tree-line that rimmed the field. Exiting the path before crossing the bridge Max got on the grass and walked along the edge of the woods, hands in his pockets.

Maggie and Jay had made their way across the field and were up ahead, in his line of vision now, getting to the woods’ edge so they were out of everyone’s way; so they could be alone. Max slipped into a gap between two cedars and onto the hard pack of the woods’ floor, the atmosphere cool and dark. Pathways beat around the trees from student traffic crossing through, but mostly it was littered with beer bottles and wrappers and dried brown evergreen needles. He wound his way through the trees, headed in the general direction of where he’d last seen them. When he thought he was close, he hitched right, headed to the bright sunshine filtering through the break in the woods.

When he came to the edge, he saw them not more than two dozen feet from his vantage point. Maggie held both their drinks—two tall lattes, steam billowing from plastic lids, corrugated cardboard sleeves under her fingers—and Jay lay his jacket on the grass so they could sit. Jay took the drinks, and Maggie slipped her poncho over her head and lay it next to Jay’s jacket. They sat.

Max watched them for fifteen minutes but couldn’t hear what they were saying. Every once in a while Jay would say something that would make Maggie laugh, and she would throw her hair back and a half second later he could hear her sweet familiar sound out of sync with the movement of her mouth.

This was burning him. Igniting in him a bed of glowing coal. Not jealousy this time, not some exquisite, tortured pain he could hold his hand up to and feel its heat, let it warm him. This was a temperature he didn’t like. This was anger. It was pointed and sharp and had little of that slippery chrome pleasure that he enjoyed when Maggie had been sexually intimate with Jay. This was too far, and he didn’t know why she thought this was okay.

He wanted to cry with the pain of seeing her happy with another man, just sitting and talking; he saw how vulnerable he was, and how fragile their love could be. Under that virtual sadness was rage. He wanted to smash, and rail, and scream in anger. Throw a tantrum. That’s all he could do. He wouldn’t last two minutes with Jay; he’d just spent an hour watching Jay throw men around that were twice Max’s size.

So he watched, and he steamed, and he explored his sadness. Maggie mesmerized him. She was beautiful. He watched her profile as she talked, her mouth held in a perpetual half-smile, that smile opening like a flower, her whole face lighting up when she was amused. Eyes sparkling, lips gleaming with a glossy sheen—she was his angel. He wouldn’t lose her. He would do anything for her.

Jay’s laugh was a low sound. He sat cross-legged while Maggie hugged her knees and cocked her head, bashful eyes narrowed on him, being flirtatious. Jay talked and listened, and he tossed blades of grass into the breeze.

Then Maggie bit her lower lip, her eyes held on Jay’s. They seemed to stop talking as Jay realized this signal she was sending him. White teeth clenched that plump lower lip of hers, and her shy little mouth peeled into a hesitating smile. Slowly their mouths came together again, and as they got closer Maggie’s eyes lowered to watch Jay’s lips. They kissed.

Max was stabbed again, deeply and painfully. Maggie was a young student falling in love. Max didn’t exist in her world, and she was happy and carefree to explore her sexuality, her identity. It focused his mind on his possession of her. He burned for her. She was his. Short of being property, she belonged to him. That was absolute. Wasn’t it? She’d said she would marry him, she’d said a thousand times yes to his proposal. What did it all mean? Just sex, Maggie. This is just sex. What you are doing right now is so wrong.

Yet, between his legs, his cock had become throbbing steel.

* * *

Kissing turned to fondling and Max wanted to be closer. He was frozen to the spot for the moment. Jay’s hand touched Maggie. He watched it intently, noted the hesitation; not afraid or bashful, but drawing out the moment, eking out the most enjoyment from that initial contact. It gripped Maggie’s upper arm. Then the kiss broke, and Jay looked in her eyes. That hurt.

So he took the opportunity to work closer to them.

It took painstaking movement; the ground littered with needles and other dry things apt to make a noise if he stepped on it. But he made his way around, going slow, keeping his eyes down, letting them dart up to keep abreast of what Jay and Maggie did. He managed to get another dozen feet closer, cutting the distance between them in half. Aware of his own breathing, his own sounds, he hoped that it was only loud in the insulated space he was in, the tight enclosure of trees and shrubs; that any sound he made, once past the tree line, would get eaten up with wide open spaces and shouts from frisbee throwers, and gulls, and rustling leaves. The two of them made no movement like they heard something suspicious; they were caught up in each other.

Now he squatted down, the stiff blades of a cedar irritating the back of his neck. But he was closer, his view unobstructed. He could even hear the sounds their lips made against one another.

With one hand still on her shoulder, Jay’s other hand lay across the top of her bare thigh, just below the hem of her skirt. That simple touch sprang Max even stiffer, his cock growing uncomfortable in the tightness of his briefs. He fought the urge to adjust it, worried being so close provided too many opportunities to get discovered. He let his cock suffer.

Maggie put her hand over Jay’s. It was small and pale compared to his thick-veined caramel skin. They continued to kiss, and while he’d thought that she had put her hand down on Jay’s to control him, to stop him from being too forward, it was evident now that wasn’t the case. It seemed like she was inching his hand higher up her thigh. Her fingers had closed around the back of Jay’s hand and she seemed to guide him under her skirt. Jay’s hand was happy to oblige, and it slowly slipped under the plaid fabric of Maggie’s short skirt.

When his hand was hidden underneath the skirt, Jay’s smile broke away their kiss and he looked in Maggie’s eyes. He spoke her name in the tone of surprise and admonishment. Indicating to Maggie that she was a bad girl. Hand moving under her skirt, their eyes darted over one another. Maggie’s expression went placid, her attention focused on what his hand did under her skirt. Eyelids heavy, her lips parted. Then her eyes closed as Jay continued to do things under her skirt. Jay contemplated her face intently. He kissed her cheek.

Legs parting wider, she sat on one hip, opening like butterfly wings, one foot planted on her poncho that she lay on. She kept her calf blocking the view up her skirt, in between what Jay’s hand was doing and the students farther out in the field. But as her skirt rode up higher, a curve of her ass cheek was revealed to Max. The dark woolen material bunched in the seam of her hip and folded away. Bare ass cheek exposed, the pale curve of it revealed to him, it was apparent that Maggie wasn’t wearing panties. She’d come today prepared for this. Wasn’t just dropping by to see how Jay was doing, she had prepared for something like this to happen. She wanted it.

A sickness rose in him. Thinking of her at home today, this morning, getting dressed, knowing she would make a detour before she got on the bus. Purposely deciding, I’m not putting on my panties. It will be better for Jay to stick his hand up my skirt and touch the part of me that belongs to Max. Maybe even worse. Maybe I’ll let Jay sneak that big cock up inside me. Right up my skirt! I won’t even have to undress!

Sickness, bile, and a swirl of blood-red anger came up his throat, and he swallowed it. It burned like acid. He felt so betrayed. She was letting him down. He’d called her a slut and she loved it. He’d called her a slut and she also hated it. Hated that it might be true. Here it was, Maggie. It was true.

Two guys ran out deeper in the field, one tossing a football to himself, throwing it up a few feet and catching it. Maggie closed her legs, and they broke their kiss. They both watched the two guys for a moment. They weren’t too close, but Maggie was wary. She worked herself closer to Jay, rolled towards him, taking a corner of her poncho that she sat on with her, covering herself as she went. On her belly, her elbows in the bare grass, Jay took up the poncho now and he put it over her waist and rump. He lay next to her, on his side and they spoke too quietly for Max to understand what they were saying. Jay’s hand moved underneath the poncho. Maggie parted her legs and Jay must have slipped his hand between her ass cheeks, his fingers stroking her pussy from behind, maybe even toying with her anus. Maggie smiled past his kissing lips, Max seeing the corner of it pull up one pretty cheek. Her ponytail hung down her shoulder and onto the grass under her chin.

Maggie’s hand crawled Jay’s belly, working like spider legs to get lower, get between his legs, but the angle was twisting her arm up, her shoulder moving high as it would go but she couldn’t reach. Eager Jay tried thrusting his bulge towards her reaching hand but she gave up. Now she eased herself to her side to face him, his hand lifting the poncho for a moment while she got comfortable. Max saw right underneath—her bare legs, her ass cheek, her shaved mound... Then the poncho covered her again, and Jay’s hand continued to play with her pussy, tenting out the fabric with his movements.

Maggie’s hand was free to explore. She broke her kiss, her head turned to the field to see if they were watched. Not realizing someone was, from the opposite direction, and only a dozen feet away, hidden in the bushes.

Jay wore a sweatshirt, jeans, and expensive Jordans. Maggie’s hand worked down to his jeans, felt around the denim until she discovered the shape of his manhood underneath. Then she gripped it, gave it a light stroking. He was huge and erect under the denim. Max saw the shape of it in her hand. The view was blocked as their faces came together to resume their kissing. Both of them making out in the fall sun, touching each other’s genitals where anyone could see. It was so unlike her and, mad as he was, he didn’t hate her. He had an explosion inside; one that made him want to scream, to fight, to yell, but also, and more likely, to watch. To enjoy. To witness her badness. Compersion. It froze him to the spot.

When her two hands came together, trying to work Jay’s zipper down, Max’s breath clutched in his throat. He couldn’t believe it. There were people around. Many people. She was being a whore. The kind of girl she and he might have made fun of a month ago. Some horny freshman. There was no excuse. She wasn’t a kid. She was grown up. She was engaged.

It was him that had spurred this. He’d wanted it. But when he had struck this match, he could never have expected finding himself like this. It was not a far stretch, he supposed. Hiding in the bushes wasn’t far removed from hiding in the closet. And while they had done it together as a couple that time in the dorm room, what she was doing right now wasn’t that nefarious because these were all things she had done before—and done it right in front of Max.

Was it all the same?

The pain now was as sharp as before, but this time Maggie’s piercing arrow dipped in the poison of betrayal. This was killing him. Some anfractuous thing grew inside him—something egg-hatched, twirling and writhing with reptilian ugliness. It wasn’t entirely bad.

The button on the top of Jay’s jeans popped and Maggie’s hands jerked with the release. She slipped a hand inside Jay’s fly while they both regarded each other. A football thudded nearby, hopping up and twirling end over end, coming to rest a few yards from them. Maggie slipped her hand away and Jay snugged the poncho over her hips, made sure she was covered.

The guy who had missed the catch and been responsible for the ball coming to rest so close to them came to retrieve it. A handsome kid, a jock, with shaggy brown hair, he knew Jay and as he came close to his football, shouted out to him.

Jay answered, gave a mild wave back and a nod of his head. The brown-haired kid stooped for his ball, stood tossing it while he asked Jay more questions. Stuff about the gym, about the wrestling schedule, if he was going to go to that Kappa party next weekend (he wasn’t), about homework, because they were in the same literature class. Maggie’s face assumed a polite boredom. Both her hands were up from under her poncho and she watched the guy with the football ask a question, then Jay’s mouth move as he answered. Jay kept his hips turned to Maggie, was talking over his shoulder at this other student. All at once, the guy got it; he hesitated mid-question, his expression blank, and it was as if he’d just picked up on something that should have been obvious at the beginning. Guy with girl, laying in grass at back of field, out of the way, girl’s poncho covering her waist, they were close and face to face… He stammered, pointed at Jay with the football, saying, “All right, Jay, catch you later.” He hustled away.

Jay looked at Maggie, eyebrows a dead even line, the slightest smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Maggie looked back, blank as well, and just like Max’s own little Maggie, the one that was his, she couldn’t keep a straight face, and soon she burst into laughter, clapping her hand over her mouth and rolling so she was face down on the grass.

Jay put an arm around her and kissed her ear. He slipped his hands under the poncho, working with his cock or something, whispering in her ear. Maggie nodded, still with her face in the grass, rolled, pecked Jay’s lips, peeked under the poncho before removing it and gathering it into a ball. Jay had zipped his jeans up.

They stood, brushed at their clothes, blades of grass falling from them and catching in the breeze. Maggie slipped on her poncho and Jay put his arms into his jacket. They stood a moment, whispering to each other, Jay’s hand under Maggie’s poncho, resting on her flat tummy. Maggie lifted a knee to brush away grass that had embedded in her skin. They both looked around surreptitiously, two kids up to no good, not wanting to be spotted.

Jay took her hand and together they walked toward the tree line, headed straight for Max.