Maggie 5-9 (Patreon)

She was waiting for the valet to return with her father’s car when she heard Cole call her name. Right now, though she cared for him, she wanted to be alone. There was nowhere to go. She hugged her own arms and dipped her head. When Cole caught up to her, coming down the steps from the double doors, dress shoes darting quickly on the carpet, he put his hands on her and held her. It was nice to be in his arms, and while she was mad at him and hurting in a way she couldn’t shape in her mind, she was glad for the comfort. She let her back sink into him and he took advantage, sank his arms around her tighter.

“Maggie, if I knew you would be hurt I never would have done this. I only wanted you to be happy. Please don’t be mad at me.”

She whispered, “Was he in that armoire?”

“Tell me you’re okay. I’ll do whatever to make you not hurt.”

“Was Max in the armoire?”

“We love you. Max loves you so much...”

“He was. Tell me if he was, Cole.”

“He wanted to watch.”

Her breath chugged from her, stuttering, stertorous, she wanted to cry but no tears came. She looked up to the sky. They stood under the canopy extending out front of the hotel, over the drive; the outdoor fresh, cold, a chandelier glowed above them in amber. The sky was a tragic amaranthine, dim and starless, a perfect reflection of how she felt right now. Empty, betrayed, made fun of, taken advantage of...and while her tormentors were two men she loved, the pain was still deep. Their love for her may have dulled the blade, but it wasn’t enough to stop the damage.

“I’m just a toy,” she cried and as soon as she said it, she recoiled at her melodrama. But it was true, she felt like flotsam on someone else’s water. She wasn’t in charge of her love, or her sex. Her men were. She could act like she was, fantasize and make believe, but truthfully, she was subject to the whims of her men. Their strategies, their fantasies. “Why did you think I wanted to cheat?”

“I don’t know...”

“I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to cheat on my Max. You just want me... You want to ruin me.”

“Ruin you? Maggie, I would never—”

They lit up in electric halogen as her father’s Mercedes turned the loop out front of the mansion. They both stood upright, their conversation ended. The car roared to a stop in front of them and the red-vested valet trotted from the car and handed Cole the keys, though it was Maggie who had issued them. Another valet held the door of the SL for her and here she was once again at the whim of men.

“I’ll drive you home,” Cole said, and he guided her to the passenger seat.

There was no alternative she saw but to sit. so she did, scooped her skirt under her legs and put her heels in the foot well of the car, let Cole close her in. He came around into the driver’s side and started the car again.

They stayed silent from The Poirot all the way past Newport. On the Newport Bridge she turned to regard him. His face was stony serious. All the charm and warmth she’d seen from his handsome face on the drive here from her home, all the promise, all the hope she’d secretly kept had been dashed. Now she saw her friend again. Max’s friend. Her friend. Her good buddy, Cole. A man she’d known for years now and had enjoyed as a friend but had never harbored feelings for though she recognized his gifts. Now she’d been with him. In a threesome with her husband-to-be... Anal sex—playful, submissive sex that she’d fooled herself into thinking was simple college hi-jinx. Tonight he’d seduced her, and while neither of them would fully admit it, he’d won a piece of her heart. He’d shown her the sex she’d craved. He’d given her the things that she hadn’t even admitted to herself that she wanted. He’d shown her what he could do. And part of her had always known he was the man to do it. She’d never thought she deserved him. She never thought she was good enough. This Cole sitting next to her had proved she was good enough, had proved that she was worth winning. The sex they’d had tonight was on a different level than she’d ever had in her entire life. Different than with her loving Max, different than her indecent stud Jay. This sex with Cole was what she craved. God, what any woman would crave. Dinner with a handsome funny man, seduction, intrigue, drama, tying her up and fucking her holes, making her go out of her mind with his dominance, making her come so many times she truly—sitting here right now only half an hour later—couldn’t remember. She remembered tinkling. Remembered a pleasure so enormous washing over her that the only escape she had from it it, before it drove her mad, was to let it go. She’d let her muscles relax or she would have fucking screamed from overwhelming pleasure. Then while he continued to rail in and out of her, delivering incredible pleasure with each thrust, something wet had sprinkled form her. Urine or who knows what, it sent a tickle through her that put her lights out. She’d lost consciousness. She was sure of it. Then when she didn’t think she could take any more, he’d disrobed and made love to her.

Max had watched it all.

And being viewed, that simple act of her husband-to-be witnessing those actions, had turned that pleasure 180 degrees into completely shameful sin. The aftermath of that sex with Cole had left her awash in enormous guilt. And now since she was sure Max had watched, had orchestrated the whole evening, all that passion she’d felt with Cole was seen in a carnival mirror. Distorted, ugly, manipulated, shocking. Untrue. Her heart felt crushed. She’d soared to where she’d never gone, now she was realizing it was all a dream. It was all her wicked Max’s sex fantasy. He’d given her a gift, and all its allure was only rented. Not hers forever, but hers for an evening. Something in Cole’s eyes had told her it was real, and now faced with reality, she didn’t know how much of it was part of the play. She was afraid to ask.

There was much she wanted to say, but she was frightened. So she turned her eyes back to the road, watched the fairy lights of Jamestown sail past, the muffled power of the Mercedes evident, her Cole working her father’s car with some precision, getting them onto the gravel hills that led to the southern point of Conanicut. He stopped at the gate to the house, unsure of how to open it. She’d fallen into reverie, an elbow on the sill of the door, her cheek in her palm. She reached across the console and fingered the car’s control screen. The gates to her home opened wide for them and Cole drove through.

* * *

Walking the driveway together he took her arm. She let him. She was still unsure in her heels and the deflating events of the evening had left her unwilling to strut for him. All that little girl sass she’d left the house with extinguished. If it weren’t gravel, she would have kicked the shoes off and continued barefoot.

“You don’t hate me do you?” he said.

“Hate? No.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“I don’t even know, Cole.”

At the door she punched the security code and walked through the kitchen. Cole followed, and she didn’t stop him. They passed through the hall, under the eyes of father’s cameras though she was sure she didn’t care any more. Up the stairs and to her room, Cole was still behind her, silent and slow, keeping his distance.

In her bedroom she kicked the heels off finally and went into her closet alone. Cole lingered by the bed, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. She shrugged off the dress, found comfortable clothes. The normal Maggie things; a comfortable, expensive sweatshirt with a wide neck and some leggings. No panties because those were in a drawer in her dresser and Cole was out there. She slipped low socks on, then a pair of pure white K-Swiss.

She grabbed her travel bag, went into her room, threw it on the bed and rifled things into it.

“So what are we doing?” she asked him without looking up.

“What do you mean?” he said.

“Well, what fucking is supposed to happen now?” she said, rifling her iPad into the bag.

Cole came around the bed and he held her wrists.

“Don’t, Cole,” she said, but she didn’t struggle.

“Maggie, what’s going on? What do you mean what’s happening now? ...Why are you so mad?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Maggie, don’t... We didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You did.”

“I’m sorry. I know he’s sorry too.”

“Take me home.”

“Home to—”

“Take me to Farmingham. I want to go home.”

“Maggie, I’m not leaving Max here.”

He stood before her in the quiet room, the sound of his suit jacket brushing against his shirt as he breathed. Both her hands came up to cover her face.

“Max was watching,” she said.

Cole put his arms around her, and he held her and there was that feeling again. As reluctant as she was to acknowledge it, Cole made her feel safe when she was in his arms.

“I’m ashamed of myself,” she whispered through the gap between her hands.

“Ashamed? Why?”

“Ashamed of the sex we had.”

“How could you be ashamed of that?”

“The things we did. I did them with you. It was private...but Max watched. They were for me and you.”

“I’m so sorry, Maggie.”

“The things you did to me...”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve never had sex like that.”

He was nodding above her, then his chin coming down to rest on the crown of her head.

She softly whispered, “My body has never reacted like that.”

“It was incredible.”

“Cole...it was so incredible.”

Cole breathed against her, and she pressed tighter to him. His breaths came quicker. He said, “He’s not here now...”

Putting her palms flat on his chest, she looked up in his eyes, saw him looking down at her. She made to speak, stopped, sucked her lower lip under her teeth. After a moment, she said, “No, he’s not...”

Maybe her chin moved first, maybe his dipped low first, but her eyes were on his lips and she watched them slowly come toward her. She pressed hers to his, felt them warm and soft, plump, her heart pounded in her chest. His strong hands swept her back, up and down, settling finally, both of them, laced over the small of her back. Her hands went up the sides of his neck, her fingers working around his ears, her thumbs tracing the hard stubbled line of his jaw.

Then they were falling back on the bed, him on top of her. A tear was squeezed from an eye and it rolled back into her hairline above her ear. She peeled her own shoes off with her toes, let her knees fall wide, let Cole put his weight over her body. His hand traveled under her sweatshirt, slipped under the tight waist of her yoga pants and she thrust her hips to meet his fingers. He worked her sex with her rapidly rising excitement. Their kisses grew with lust, their breaths heaving. A finger slipped inside her. Then two, and she squeezed them as hard as she could with the muscles of her belly. Her sex gushed around his intrusion, she felt the tickle of rolling rivulets between her ass cheeks. She ached for his cock. She felt it against her thigh. Hard and ready, the wide cable underneath it grinding into her soft flesh.

She kissed his neck, and he lifted his chin to let her. Her hands worked the buttons of his shirt, opening them all the way down, and then she kissed his skin, took a nipple in her mouth, sucked on its tight masculine shape. He groaned, and the rumble in his chest excited her, made her hips buck against the fingers he plunged in and out of her. Nails scratched his bare skin, slipping underneath the open shirt, tracing around his back, feeling the heat of his skin, feeling the beautiful movement of his muscles.

Then he was over top of her, his hard cock pressing into her pussy, his hand roaming up her body, under her sweatshirt, warm against her eager skin. His mouth went over hers but she gasped into his kiss for him to stop.

“Wait,” she said, “wait, wait, wait...”

“What?”

“No, stop, Cole,” she said, even while speaking the words her hips were grinding against his hardness, and she could feel the width of his cock pressing her excited labia apart through the thin material of her pants.

“Stop?” he said, breathy and disappointed.

“Stop,” she said, “please.”

He groaned again, this time it was defeated and tinged with disappointment and he lay his head on her chest. “Fuuuck,” he sighed, his hips still working his erection into her.

“I know, I know...Right? ...”

“You're right,” he sighed. Now he lay his forehead against her chest, and she let her hands smooth the hot skin of his back, enjoying it, but still attempting to de-escalate their passion.

He rolled off her, lay side by side with her, both of them looking up at the incredibly high ceiling of her concrete bedroom. He lay a forearm across his forehead and his breathing still came with excited urgency. “What’s happening...what is happening with us...?”

“I don’t know, Cole,” she gasped.

She sat up, straightened her sweatshirt, pulled it down to cover her tummy. She stared at her shoes laying on the floor next to her bed, one sole side down, the other laying on its side. Pulled off in a moment of intense passion. Evidence of what was transpiring between her and her best friend. It was so obvious though, wasn't it? So natural. The attraction between them wasn't something surprising. At one time it had been forbidden and duty and protocol had kept them on their best behavior. Only now her Max had stripped away all sense of decency and procedure...

That wasn't true at all, really. Just one way to look at it. In fact she had acknowledged nothing she may have ever felt for her Max's best friend (and later her best friend), because she thought he was out of her league. She was just happy to be his friend so that others could see her associated with him. And while there had never been a moment that transpired between them in the years they knew each other, the moment Max had loosened her leash, she’d gone for Cole. Unzipped him, put her mouth on him while Max watched. That wasn’t for Max and none of this was Max's fault.

Her feet slipped back into the sneakers, and she hunched forward, sighed heavily and Cole sat up next to her. He rubbed her back and then hugged her to his side, kissed the top of her head.

“I have to get out of here,” she whispered.

He helped her gather up her things, and they went back downstairs. In the kitchen she found a fresh sheet of paper and she used a pen to leave her parents a note. She thanked them for the hospitality and she thanked her mother for taking the time with her today to help her select a wedding dress. Told them she would call them tomorrow, that Cole was passing through the area and that they’d gone to dinner and she might as well get a ride back to Vermont tonight rather than shuttle her way back tomorrow. She thanked her father for the talk they had today. She signed it, slapped the pen down and shut the lights, left without looking back.

They climbed up into Cole’s Jeep and went out the gate and down the gravelly road, the headlights bouncing along the towering tress that lined the way.

As they passed through Jamestown, she turned to Cole and regarded him again. Watched his handsome face as he eyed the road, lit from the gauges. His hand worked the gearshift. When he finally looked over at her, she smiled. He smiled back.

She told him she would go to Harvard law next year. The happiness didn't leave his face, but it washed with a darkness, his eyes narrowing, his jaw muscles flexing. He held his open hand out, palm up, and she put her fingers through his and squeezed.