Maggie 4.9 (Patreon)

When she’d arrived home by limo, the service picking her up out front of Wickford Station, her mother was still at work. Father was in Norway, his plane was coming home on Saturday, and she was alone. There had been a note on the high island counter in the kitchen. Written in her mother’s odd, tight and back slanting hand, it had read:

Your dinner will arrive at 6 P.M. I will be home late. It’s a perfect time for you to study. If I am not home before 10 P.M., remember that you have appointments tomorrow.

That left a lot up in the air. What appointments? They were finding her dress on Saturday, tomorrow was Friday. Wouldn’t her mother be at work? She came home a day earlier than the dress fitting, yet her father was away on business...

A little before six, dinner had been delivered. A young woman in white uniform brought to the kitchen door a zippered bag. She’d let her in and the young chef arranged steaming containers on the counter for her. Rice with coconut and lime, organic farm fresh chicken, grilled sea bass with almonds oranges and basil. Everything perfectly cooked and perfectly nutritious, just as she had imagined her mother had instructed.

The chef was that cool kind of girl, hefty in size but with a winning smile and effortless cheer. Her face was pretty and she had lots of ear rings laced up her auricle and a tantric symbol tattooed on her neck below her ear. Told her she was private chef at the Schlesinger’s home, longtime neighbors of theirs. Klaus Schlesinger a former associate of her father’s, working at the same firm when they first came here from Holland. She was chatty and Maggie would have talked longer but she hadn't had a shower yet and she was hungry. The chef left her to eat, getting in a Pontiac Vibe and beeping twice as she left. Maggie closed the gate behind her using the control panel by the fridge.

Max called while she ate and worked on finishing her book on Toulouse-Lautrec. She laughed out loud at how mean she was being. It made her stomach tighten and tingle—with mirth and good humor, not meanness. The meanness was manufactured fun. In her mind she pictured him in his dorm room, trying to keep his chagrin from roommate Steve, telling himself that of course his fiancé didn't have sex with a stranger on the train or, God, the bus. But there would be part of him that was thinking Shit, what if she did? That part of him, and she was becoming very aware of it, was kind of fun. Not answering her phone was her gift to him. She was feeding that little gollum that lived in the swampy moss-slick parts of his brain, worrying a tarnish on a metal band of sick jealousy.

Providing nourishment to that weird part of him was his reward for his allowances regarding her sexual proclivity. Growing sexual proclivity. What other man than Max would allow her to pursue the things she had missed while she had already promised herself to him? Now, he got something from it too, but she didn't mind that their darkness was symbiotic. Maybe it was some knowing glimmer they saw in each other’s eyes from the very beginning that told them they were two of a kind. And it just took them a few years for their stinking flower to gather up the necessary nutrients and minerals from the soil of their loving relationship before opening up to the light.

Three times Max called. It began to worry her that he was calling about something serious but then her phone dinged with a text message.

Max: you got home okay, right?

She laughed out loud at that. Picturing him now like an admonished child. Worried that his mommy was dissatisfied with his behavior, looking for her favor. Coming up with a text that would better encourage a response from her other than his sexual worry.

She texted.

Maggie: what a day!

She waited.

Max: I know. You home?

She smiled. Laying on her bed, freshly showered, scrubbed, and lemony-freshened with a douche, she was feeling quite good. No one was home and she lay in her room, face down on her bed, up on her elbows with books and iPad and Macbook and iPhone spread around her. Wearing just a wide neck sweatshirt, panties, legs and feet bare, hair tied back in a ponytail.

Maggie: We’re not supposed to be talking.

Max: I have to! I miss you!

He was happy he had her talking now.

Maggie: we shouldn’t be talking...I want you going crazy...

Max: I am going crazy

Maggie: I want you to really miss me...then when I come home...you know...

Max: Oh God. You are killing me.

Maggie: I miss you

Max: I love you

She texted him back a bursting heart emoji.

Maggie: I love you too

Her legs kicked gently while she watched the screen, saw the signs he was writing something, then it would stop. Then the dots would appear again, dancing while her Max carefully worded what he wanted to know. A smile was pulling her cheeks up and she giggled and threw her head forward, waited. The dots stopped again.

This time her iPhone, iPad, and Macbook all chimed in unison. A tab scrolled down on her phone but moved away before she could read it. Tilting her iPad screen, she read:

Jay: You make it home okay?

She chuckled and licked her lips. To Jay she texted:

Maggie: Chilling in RI, all in one piece!

With a wide smile she rolled over on to her back, put her iPad on her stomach and brought her knees up. While she waited, her iPhone chimed and she held it in her palm and read:

Max: I assume you were kidding about your traveling partner

Maggie: why?

Max: seriously, maggie

Maggie: what?

Max: were you serious?

Maggie: you told me to

Max: dirty talk, you know that

Maggie: no I don’t

Max: so you did?

Maggie: yeah. I wouldn’t have, I wasn’t looking. That guy found me and you told me to. Literally told me to

Max: ok

A laugh escaped her, loud in her still room, and she pictured his cute face twisted in frustration.

Maggie: are u mad?

Max: no

Maggie: I thought it was ok

Max: I guess it is

She stifled a laugh, snorting into her clenched palm, like she was worried he would overhear her. Her hand came away and she enjoyed a loud laugh.

Maggie: sorry

Max: it’s ok. What happened?

Maggie: I don’t know. Cheer up, maxy, I’ll tell you everything when I get home

Max: please tell me now

Maggie: not much happened, okay?

Max: then tell me…

Now her devices chimed again and she tilted the iPad leaning on her thighs, angling a glare away from the screen so she could read:

Jay: Glad ur ok. Lot of weirdos on the trains

Maggie: Never mind the buses...I heard a guy got his head cut off one time while he was sleeping.

Jay: Maybe I should have gone with you

Maggie: Keep me safe or meet my parents?

Jay: ha ha. We there yet?

Maggie: Not even close. They love Max. I love Max.

Jay: Okay. I love our time together. You regret what we did?

Maggie: I’m okay with it. I know what it is. You know what it is?

Jay: I know what it feels like

Maggie: Tell me what it feels like

Jay: Ha ha no way. You tell me first

Maggie: Feels like sex

Jay: If you say so.

Maggie: I say so

Jay: good sex?

Maggie: uuuhhh, what do you think?

Jay: is it conceited to say I think I make you see stars and rainbows

Maggie: pretty conceited. what about unicorns?

Jay: shiiiit, you see unicorns? That’s some next level shit...

Maggie: it is indeed

And with that she added an eggplant emoji. Now she was one of those girls. The naughtiness was thrilling.

Then there was another melody of incongruous chimes as all of her devices dinged a new arrival. There was a third player vying for her attention. She laughed out loud, ran her hands over her hair and gripped her neck.

Cole: U get home safe?

She swished her mouth from side to side, texted.

Maggie: made it in one piece!

Cole: good. I like you in one piece

Maggie: me too. Two pieces or more would be terrible

Cole: and painful. How’s Carol and Martin

Maggie: absent

Cole: my little Maggie is all alone in her big house?

Maggie: OMG and it’s dark outside

Cole: you scurred?

Maggie: so scurred

While texting Cole her phone had binged three times. Holding it up she read three texts from Max.

Max: Maggie?

Max: hello?

Max: just tell me

Her thumbs moved on their own, a wide smile on her face.

Maggie: are u mad? I don’t want you to be mad

Max: no. Tell me

Maggie: we kissed a bit

Max: kissed?

Maggie: yeah, he sat next to me. He started it. He came on to me. Can I just tell u later?

Max: call me

Maggie: no.

There was a long pause and she watched three dots bobbing around while Max struggled with this entirely false information she was meanly feeding him. Her toes wiggled and she sucked on her lower lip while she waited. Finally, he responded.

Max: did he touch you?

Maggie: he put his hand up my skirt but I stopped him

Max: ok

Maggie: you and Jay left me really dirty down there. What would he have thought if he touched me, ha ha

Max: did u touch him?

Maggie: u know I bought a douche at the train station. Almost twenty-one yo and I never douched in my life

Max: did you touch him?

Maggie: yeah

Max: did you?

Maggie: yes

Fearing she would lose her gullible little boy she scaled it back.

Maggie: only through his suit

Max: ok

Maggie: sorry

Max: was he hard?

Maggie: yeah

Max: what else?

Maggie: nothing

Max: nothing?

Maggie: no.

Max: you didn’t make him...

Maggie: no. It wasn’t very sexy really. Too many ppl around

The thought of her hand moving on her hunk under his Glen plaid jacket was at once comical and also, admittedly, kind of arousing. You would never get away with it, would you? She supposed if you were highly motivated you could do it. But would it be sexy with a stranger?

On her Macbook she saw a message from Cole left hanging.

Cole: the calls are coming from inside the house Margaret

She texted him back.

Maggie: you trying to creep me out?

Cole: I’m waiting for you to beg me to come keep you safe

Maggie: fun but too much to do. Appointment with Carol tomorrow, dress on sat

Cole: I don’t like u being away

Maggie: it sucks. bored

Tilting her iPad she saw that Jay had texted under her eggplant emoji.

Jay: eggplant? that’s what you think it looks like?

Maggie: ha ha, do you think I have an exact emoji? that’s the closest they got...I work with what I’m given

Jay: ha ha, me too

Maggie: touche

She looked around her room, smirking, reluctant to type what she wanted to. She did anyway.

Maggie: send me one

Jay: one what?

Maggie: you know

Jay: we talking about what I think we’re talking about, or maybe you got me so all I think about is sex.

Maggie: Tit for tat. send me one

Jay: don’t you have a drawing?

Maggie: mm, left it at home tho

Jay: lol hold on

She watched her iPad screen expectantly, her mouth working around nervously. Picked up her phone and read from Max:

Max: did you get his number?

Maggie: yeah he put it in my phone but I didn’t give him mine

Max: thank God. Why not?

Maggie: thank God? I don’t know why not. He was so hot. I mean really hot

Max: thanks

Maggie: you saw him

Max: big dick too?

Maggie: yeah pretty big. Like Cole but maybe not quite as thick

Max: that’s nice

Now she had to cup her hand over her mouth again, stifling an urgent laugh that brought tears to her eyes from restraining it.

Maggie: I think I like girth. Jay hurts sometimes when he goes deep. He bumps my cervix and it makes me feel queasy

Max: okay

Now she hooted and kicked her feet.

Maggie: I think Cole could hit my cervix if he tried but he wants to be careful I think. he’s a gentle lover

Max: Jay can’t help it?

Maggie: I don’t know. Cole stretches me and I like that

Max: I don’t want to hear about it

Her head cocked in sad affection. Max did want to hear about it, she figured. Maybe this was too mean though, maybe this would be something she could say when they were together and he would enjoy it.

Maggie: sorry. I’ll shut up

Max: how’re your parents?

Maggie: not even home. Haven’t seen them.

Max: you could have stayed with me. Gone tomorrow.

Maggie: yeah. Too late now

Max: I miss you so much

Maggie: I didn’t kiss anybody on the train shithead.

As much as she’d enjoyed twisting her Max up like that, it felt so wonderful to let him off the hook. She ran her thumb over the edges of her iPhone and imagined him falling off his dorm room bed with relief.

On her Macbook, Cole had texted:

Cole: u hinting u want company?

Maggie: no way. Supposed to be only me and Carol this weekend

Cole: I know so much about wedding dresses tho

Maggie: Weird, u look like u know nothing about wedding dresses

Cole: looks can be deceiving Mags

Maggie: what are u doing this weekend?

Cole: pining

Maggie: didn’t take u for such a sap

Cole: u don’t know what pining is

Maggie: I don’t?

Cole: it’s dirty

Maggie: ha ha it is not

Cole: I make everything dirty

Maggie: now that I believe

Cole: thank you. I’m going to pine the shit out of some freckle-face freshman

Maggie: don’t worry I won’t ruin ur reputation

Cole: I don’t want my fans to be disappointed

Maggie: all those teen girls

Cole: I know my market

Maggie: gross

Cole: Nah my dick is taking a break

Maggie: Aw, don’t let it get out of shape

Cole: u corralling me into an ‘exercise’ joke?

Maggie: like what?

Cole: like I’ll spend the weekend masturbating

Maggie: that what ur gonna do?

Cole: I’ll be thinking of you lol

Her stomach flinched, then fluttered. Chewed her lip again, her thumbs feeling a little sweaty she slowly typed:

Maggie: mm kind of hot, send a pic

Cole: wait of me masturbating?

Maggie: no

Cole: whew thought you’d gone hardcore perv

Maggie: no you didn’t, you hoped that’s what I meant

Cole: no comment

Maggie: just send me a regular pic

The room was quiet as she waited. The ding from her iPad startled her and she tilted it to reveal a photo Jay had sent. His viewpoint, looking down between his legs. That huge thing he had was half-aroused, lurching to one side, the swollen glans touching down on his muscular leg. It was dark against his caramel thighs and her stomach fluttered again, that stretch that lay between her anus and her vagina tightened like a string on her cello.

Her phone dinged now with a message from Max but her eyes stayed on the image of Jay’s large penis.

Then below it, a text from Jay followed.

Jay: I’ll be in Farm on Thursday

Maggie: Okay

Jay: u want to see me?

Maggie: I’m done figure drawing

Jay: you’re so cold

Maggie: I’m heartless

Jay: See me Maggie. no strings

Maggie: txt me Wed

Jay: can’t wait. Take care

Her phone chimed again with another message from her Max but now she saw that Cole had sent a photo. She enlarged it.

Artfully shot, careful light played along the surface of his very thick uncircumcised club. He’d eased his foreskin back so it bunched in creases under the flare of his glans, showing off its plump shape. He was achingly erect. She frowned.

Max texted again but she texted Cole.

Maggie: how did you get so hard so fast?

Cole: I’m always hard for you baby

Maggie: oh my God did you send me a file pic?

Cole: ha ha, yes.

Maggie: wtf? how many dick pics you send you have to have them on hand?

Cole: gotta keep these bitches happy

Maggie: ah, the life of the Lothario

Cole: the struggle is real

Maggie: send me one now. Send me one where it isn’t hard, I’ve never seen that

Cole: few have

Maggie: ha ha, send me one. now

Cole: I don’t think I should

Maggie: Why not?

Cole: I think it’s wrong

Maggie: what the hell are you talking about?

Cole: I don’t know

Maggie: You just sent me one!

Cole: that was on my phone already

Maggie: so?

Cole: taking one just for you is stepping over a line

Maggie: ??? you forget last night? crisis of conscience?

Cole: crisis of conscience

Maggie: wow. Cole is deep

Cole: Cole misses you.

Maggie: I’ll be back on Sunday

Cole: we should all go out

Maggie: I’d like that

Cole: ok ttyl pick a good dress

Maggie: see you

Staring at the painting she’d done when she was in high school, she realized her mouth had fallen open. She huffed, closed it. Shrugged. That wild painting, hanging high on the concrete wall that faced the foot of her bed, was done when she was seventeen, meant something then, a lot about being dissatisfied and being unfulfilled. She’d never admit that it was sexual in nature. Maybe others could read it because it had done her well. It one three awards at local galleries and exhibitions, and had been a major piece of her portfolio in her Farmingham package. Three years later and look at her now.

She stared dumbly at the words Max had been texting her.

Max: Maggie?

Max: Maggie

Max: are you kidding?

She typed.

Maggie: I slept on the train. That guy was in a completely different car

Max: You are a fcuking butch and I hate your stupid guts

Maggie: I hope u mean bitch

Max: I do. I’m so mad I can’t type

Maggie: guy was hot though right?

Max: I guess

Maggie: If he did sit next to me, who knows?

Max: so nothing happened? You were kidding?

Maggie: yes. But not about the douche

Max: I don’t know if that’s gross or hot

Maggie: I know right?

Max: maybe kind of both. Bad girl

Maggie: would you believe me if I told you I can literally feel waves of ur relief all the way here in RI

Max: I believe you. You had me almost crying

Maggie: I’m going to have you eating out of my hand

Max: I’d do anything for you

Now she was smiling again; smiling and feeling warm. She would go for the trifecta.

Maggie: send me a picture of my friend

Max: what friend?

Maggie: I bet that little man between your legs is standing at full attention from my story

Max: You want a picture?

Maggie: Am I right?

Max: yeah

Maggie: so show me

It didn’t take long for her Max to produce a picture of his penis for her. Imagined he must have thrust his sweatpants down, penis hard as stone already (hopefully roommate Steve was gone!), snapped his pic and sent it with trembling hands. Of her three men he would be the most eager, the most anxious. All her time with him, the two of them secret perverts, and neither had texted images of their private parts to each other. She owed him one of what she had.

For now she surmised the picture he had sent. He was erect, fully, a telltale shimmer of semen running a line down his shaft, showing her the effect her dirty story had on her husband-to-be. Between his thin hips, his thumb pressed his cock upright; her Max laying on his back, his bushy pubes swirling the base of him, his balls tight and excited, held up close to his cock. It was arousing. All three of them were amazing things, disembodied cocks but all of them intimate partners to her, their features being delineated to her as unique and separate as the elements of her lovers’ distinct personalities. The men were all unique, their equipment unique, their passions, their abilities…

Maggie: I miss him. But if you touch him I swear I won’t for a month.

Max: I won’t

She was startled again, this time by a long pervasive beep that seemed to exist within the walls of the house. Her mother was home. She could hear the pulses of sound as Carol’s fingers danced the code out on the control pad in the kitchen, and she got a chill thinking about security systems and video cameras and the things that might have been recorded and viewed by her own father. Maybe her mother too. The two of them watching a monitor, arms folded, seeing their own daughter fucking her fiancé and their Best Man at the same time. She shivered. Even if such a video existed it would be too dark to see anything, right? Unless he had night vision. A cold ball of dread returned but she shook it off as she climbed out of bed.

Standing clutching her phone in both hands, head bowed, she signed off with her Maxy.

Maggie: gotta go, Carol just got home

Max: say hi to your mom and dad for me, don’t forget

Maggie: of course. I miss you so much Max

Max: I’m dying without you

Maggie: I’ll be home on Sunday. No touching remember.

Max: I know

Maggie: no texting either you bad boy

Max: no games then!

Maggie: I was asking for it wasn’t I?

Max: I love you

Maggie: I love you too

She sent a bursting kiss emoji, lips pressing and smacking, threw her phone down into the bed sheets.

Standing now on the hand woven rug that lay before her dressing table and a tall mirror on an articulated stand she watched her reflection. Times sure had changed. Girl in the mirror had bare and shapely legs. Not too thin after all. Her wide-necked sweater had slipped down one arm and exposed her slim creamy shoulder, sans bra strap. Perky tits pressed up against the fabric, nipples—aroused by her lovers—poked through in undeniable humps. A hand slipped along her trim tummy, fingers dipping under the waistband of her pale pink panties, touching herself, finding her sex warm and wet and clearly aroused. A wide glossy smile stretched her lips and she winked at herself. Look at sexy little Maggie Becker, three men on a string…