Maggie 4-10 (Patreon)

He didn’t hear from Maggie at all on Friday and he gave her space.

That night, just at dinner, she’d sent a text that said:

Maggie: guess what my appointment was today

Max: no idea

Maggie: she had me play cello at a legal function

Max: how mad are u, scale 1 to 10

Maggie: 1000000000

Max: sorry

A secret piece of him laughed. Like she had deserved it for the game she played yesterday. As ridiculous as it was, as transparent really, she had played him expertly like he was her fucking cello.

It was ridiculous that she would jerk some guy off on the train, or even make out with a stranger. That wasn’t Maggie. He knew her. He should have seen right through her ploy. But she towed him out to deep water and cut the rope. Let him thrash and sputter. Just as he bragged to himself how he knew her, perhaps she knew him better. Knew how long to drag out the subterfuge, how to carefully, reluctantly reveal the small pieces of her story for maximum believability. By not talking to him she let his own brain build up a story. Saw her picture of the handsome train passenger, laughed it off as her being silly. Then radio silence. He made himself believe. Then her texts, cold and distant, detached from him...Sure, Max, what? ...you told me to...

That was his weakness. A cold shoulder from Maggie was like a .44 Magnum through his heart. An absence of her affection, something so slight, imaginary, implied...had scale like the Grand Canyon. Last night she got him bad. It was subtle. He came on to me. That’s how it could happen. He was gorgeous. He was. We only made out. Believable. You and Jay left me so messy I was embarrassed for him to touch me. Groan. A diversion. An acute and precise manipulation like throwing a ball of yarn past the most skeptical of cats. That’s when she hooked him. If she was meaner, she could have him believing it still.

So, good. Good. I hope you had to play your cello for four hours and the room wasn’t air conditioned. How you like that?

Not really. He’d like to say it to her but if she was in another playful mood who knows what she would convince him of next. The last week of their lives was already putting far too much stress on his heart. Their escapade yesterday was of mammoth proportion. It had enough nutrition to sate his sexual appetite for quite some time. Then her play last night, then getting him to send a picture of his erection. His heartbeat was a fluttering trepidation, afraid it would trip itself up into a complete heart attack. They were on a tightrope. He knew he was, and it would seem she was also riding something very sharp. Not letting him touch himself had him wound up tight. She had him in control. He wanted it. The game wouldn't be played if he didn't want to. He’d take his ball—balls—and go home. This was by his own free will. As much as he wanted to play it over in his head, he wouldn’t. Couldn't stop thinking about it though. Her legs wrapped around Jay, their soft talking, their kissing. Her expression. What he did together with her in the prop room. How wet she was when he fucked her. God, the dirty things she said to him. Her games too. He couldn't stop toying with the disgusting idea that his Maggie—honor student, smart and talented, sweet—had to douche because he and Jay had filled her up with their fluids. He shuddered. His cock was iron going on hours now, straining at the cotton of his pants.

Sunday seemed too far away.

So he tried to occupy himself by catching up on all the reading he was behind on and writing a paper that he’d put off this week. The more he could clear from his plate the more time he could spend with Maggie when she got home. Maybe he would take her out and they would do something loving. He’d like that. She would too. Put a clip in the bulging toothpaste tube of their perversion, allow a little reset of sorts, a reminder that under all this new found depravity they were fundamentally a sound, loving couple who would marry in ...nine and a half months now.

* * *

When Cole showed up at eight, he thumped Max’s door open without knocking and yelled Max! Scared the shit out of him and Steve. The MacBook on his lap bounced on his thighs as he flinched. Steve let out a deep, brief howl. Cole chuckled, pointed his finger at Max and said, “I’m buying you a beer.”

Max said, “Dude, I already texted you. I can’t, I want to—”

“Max, just give me an hour, okay? I’m buying. I swear I’ll have you back in an hour. I swear. Come have a slice and a beer.”

He looked down at his paper in progress, his handwritten notes on the bed. Knew his thoughts were fleeting things and worried that he might lose his slippery grip on his complicated thesis... But he said, “One hour? ...”

“One hour tops. You gotta eat...”

To Steve, Cole said, “Sorry, dude, I’ll get you next time. I have important Maggie matters to discuss,” and he winked.

Max, paused, half off the bed, said, “Maggie?”

“Wedding stuff,” Cole said.

They went to Altieri’s, and they didn't talk about Maggie. They talked about all sorts of things that made him think Cole was putting off something he wanted to say about Maggie. Then he knew what it was before Cole even said it.

After slices of pizza and a pint of beer at the bar of busy Altieri’s they walked back to campus, and it was in the Oren Glen that they stopped.

Max guessed what was coming when Cole wandered around the concrete lip of the garden, watching his chukkas, hands shoved in his pockets. Max stood and waited, his hands tucked in his own pockets. Finally, he said, “This the ‘Maggie matters’? ...”

Cole nodded. He was biting the inside of his mouth. “Dude...Max, I really fucked up.”

“Did you?”

“I think so...”

“What did you do?”

He ran his hand through his hair, shook it, inhaled. “Night before last...Maggie and I hung out...”

“I know.”

“I think I fucked up.”

“What happened?”

“What did she tell you?”

“Nothing.”

He sighed, almost inaudibly, coming out as a groan. “Okay. I came on too strong. I tried something on her and I definitely shouldn't have.”

“What did you try?”

“Pssh,” he said, unable to look at Max now. “Everything.”

“Did you do something?”

“You know how good she is. Nice, I mean. I don’t have to tell you. I ran something on her I’d run on some co-ed. Not someone I know. I’m so stupid.”

“So, what happened?”

“Well, nothing. I just shouldn't have done that. I like her too much. I like you too much. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Max wandered around in a circle, hands still in pockets, looking at his own shoes. Made his way to the bench and sat heavily in it. “That’s okay. This is all fucked up. I’m fucked up.”

“Nah, don’t say that. I get it. I get you. I get her.”

“You don’t think I’m fucked up?”

“Dude, we’re all friends. It’s not so crazy. I’ve slept with some of the same girls as some of the guys on the team. It’s no big deal. Some of those guys end up really caring about those girls even though some of the other players may have been with them. It’s...I don’t know...no big deal. But I mean it...I think the world of Maggie, and you...you are my best friend. I shouldn't have done what I did.” He set himself down on the bench.

“She told me.”

“Told you what?”

“Told me what you guys did. She wouldn't keep that from me.”

“Ohh, fuuck,” he said, leaning forward and putting his face in his hands, scrubbing them up and down, rubbing his eyes. “Do you think I’m an asshole?”

Max laughed, “No. I get it. We need rules, that’s all.”

“Rules? It’s not...? I mean... You still...?”

“I think so. I think she does...still want to...”

“So fucked up,” Cole sighed. “Not you, I mean me.”

“Cause of what you did?”

“Yeah. I mean, part of me was serious...about wanting it to be for all our benefit. For next time. I...hoped there would be a next time.”

“Was it for all our benefit?”

“Yeah, of—”

“No, I know your intention was for all our benefit...did it work out that way?”

“I guess. No, I know. Yes, she... God, I don't know how to say it. She learned...”

“Learned?”

“That it was okay.”

Now he was lost. What was okay? What had they done that she learned?

“I meant it for all of us to be looser next time, but I shouldn't have done it. I broke a rule. We don't have rules but I know I broke a rule.”

Max drew a deep breath in, let it out. “She’s not mad or anything, you know.”

“I know.”

“You've talked to her?”

He nodded.

“When I met her that night we had incredible sex.”

Cole nodded. “That’s good.”

“So whatever you worked out with her, it was a benefit.”

Cole didn't answer. Eyes cast down at the pavement between his shoes. Max watched him a while as he seemed to work something out in his mind.

“Do...you? ...” he trailed off.

Max said, “What?”

“Some time, do you think me and Maggie could be alone?”

“Holy shit...what?” He chuckled, brows up in bewilderment. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he said, running his hands through his hair in frustration again. “I want her to have what you want her to have...I want the same thing for her. I care about her. I think...I don’t want it for me...well, I do want to, but I mean...God, I mean I think she wants to...”

“Be alone? With you?”

“Max, it’s not crazy. She’s so sweet. She’d never ask you. You know that. She doesn’t even want to ask, she won't ask. But I know she wants to. She wants to have that experience before you guys are married. To be alone... Man, I can’t even say it...”

“Alone with you,” he said, resting his chin in his hands, staring holes into the garden across from them. “I don’t...I don’t like it...”

“I know. I know,” he agreed. “Fuck,” he said, his hand fumbling inside the front pocket of his lacrosse sweatshirt. His phone came out, and he held it speculatively, turning it over and over between his two hands. He said, “Can I show you something?”