Maggie 5-10 (Patreon)

He woke from sleep with the sound of the heavy door of the suite closing. He snapped upright, a sharp intake of breath scoring through his nose. Maggie and Cole stood at the door. Maggie in front, Cole behind her, one hand on her waist.

The fire had dwindled, and they glowed in a dark orange. He stared at them a long moment and they stood blankly, watching him. He looked away, over to the side of the bed, the clock turned over to midnight.

Out of bed, he crossed to the steps that led to the lower level. Paused there. Maggie bit her lip, her eyes watching him, blinking. She wore a sweatshirt now, leggings and sneakers. She tossed her purse onto the couch and stepped toward him. With fearful hesitation, he put a foot down, came to her level, stepped toward her. Now they were both moving, walking with restraint and stiffness towards each other. He brow furrowed, her eyes gleamed with wet, and her mouth curled in a wriggling bow as they came together and his arms circled her. His heart exploded in his chest at the feel of her against him. Thin arms went around his back and she hugged him weakly.

“Oh, Maggie,” he whispered in her ear, “Maggie, I'm so sorry, I don't know what I’m doing anymore...”

“Why did you do that to me, Max?”

“I don't even know...I thought...you wanted that...”

“Maxy, I cheated on you. I really cheated on you.”

Now he felt the sting of betrayal. As if it hadn't been clear to him before, like it was a blurry picture and he thought he could make it out, could see the shapes that warbled in the image. But now, hearing her words, it was razor sharp. She knew she had cheated. And if she knew it, then it was. It was true. She had cheated on him. Didn't know this was a game at all. Her infidelity was real. Cole had sold him on it being acceptable because it was safe and they all loved each other. But it was profoundly wrong. And they were both party. A hard lump formed in his belly, and his breath came with struggle. But instead of recoiling, instead of suffering, he hugged her harder. The more he squeezed her the greater the joy he felt. He loved her completely, and he would never let her go. If that was also true then this evening was nothing. All that was left was her hurt but he could soothe that.

“I did it, I made it happen, Maggie. I knew you would. I knew it was okay...”

“How can it be okay, Maxy?”

“Because I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Max,” she whispered, and her hand clawed the back of his neck. they kissed. It was stiff, awkward, but he welcomed her cool, wet lips.

* * *

Cole said, “You two are okay, right?”

Max turned to see him, arms folded, leaning his butt on the back of the couch, the dim fire glowing behind him.

Maggie said, “We’re fine.”

“We are. We’re fine, right?” Max said to her, turned back to look in her eyes.

“You tell me,” she said, her mouth poised neutrally, afraid to smile.

“You tell me,” he said. Also not smiling. Also not sure. What happened was a big mistake and everything in him wanted to pick her up and be the way they were before she left but there was some sort of unseen barrier between them. Nothing was stopping them from embracing and forgetting, but a film had slipped in between them, coated them, made each other too slippery to hold. He’d wanted to watch her cheat. He’d been rewarded. But that meant she had cheated. She was mad at herself for cheating, unsure what it meant that he wasn’t mad she’d cheated, and then also struggling with the anger that her two best friends had orchestrated the whole thing. He imagined that given she had not one other person in the world to turn to she was stuck accepting what they'd done to her for the moment. He hoped deep down, she felt the way he did, she wanted to move past this and return to their feelings before she left Farmingham.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly.

“I’m fine too,” he said. Their bodies had come away, and he wanted so much to pull her back, squeeze her tightly again, but part of him worried she would reject him, part of him worried that she didn’t want that right now. He let them part farther, but he took both her hands in his. She had trouble meeting his eyes.

“Well, what the fuck,” Cole said. “I guess...I guess we’re staying here tonight.” He crossed from the couch, passed them, stepped up to the raised end of the room, onto the quiet carpet.

Max said, “Is that okay, Maggie? You okay to stay here?”

“What else are we going to do? It’s midnight...”

Over his shoulder, Cole said, “I’m way too tired to drive. I’m crashing.” He shrugged the suit jacket off and threw it on to the couch at the foot of the bed. The place where all those wonderfully bad things had transpired. He put his hands on his hips and regarded both of them. Max noticed his shirt had been re-buttoned so it was aligned properly, and he had a sudden punch in his stomach, wondering what transpired while they were away. Maggie changed clothes. They’d gone to her house. Were her parents home? What if they fucked again behind his back?

He squeezed her fingers between his and looked in her eyes again. “Maggie, I love you so much.”

She cocked her head, winced. “I know, Max. I love you too.”

He ventured, “Maggie, I didn’t want to hurt you...we wanted you—”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Max.”

“Okay,” he said, everything in him wanting to gush his feelings to her. He’d drop to his knees and plead if Cole wasn’t here watching.

“It's fine, Max,” she said again before slipping her fingers away from his. She turned and stepped up to the raised end, walked to the side of the bed.

Cole still stood, hands on hips and she walked right past him, Cole’s head swiveling to follow her. He looked back to Max and shrugged, chewed his lip.

At the side of the bed, she loosened her ponytail, took the tie out and shook her hair free. Unclasped her jewelry and placed it on the bedside table, then pulled her shoes off with her toes. Turning her back to them, she pulled her shirt up over her head and tossed it to a padded chair sitting again the wall. She covered her breasts with a forearm and slipped under the sheets. Her knees came up as she dug her heels into the bed, working under the covers to take her yoga pants off. A bare arm came out and flung them to the chair. She tossed, turned, lay on her side.

Cole’s eyes held Max’s, and he couldn’t tell what his friend was feeling. Were they both mad at him? This was Cole’s idea. But then again there had been the big revelation about Jay Carmichael. He supposed Maggie spilled her guts to Cole while they were away together. What could she have said? Were the two of them working against him now?

Cole moved to the opposite side of the bed, undid his shirt, pulled off his pants and socks. Got into bed next to her completely naked. They didn’t touch, didn’t acknowledge each other. Cole lay on his back, looking at the canopy of the bed, Maggie lay facing him, her eyes closed.

“Yeah,” Max sighed, joined them, coming to bed on the same side as Maggie, slipping his sweats off, getting naked and slipping in behind the woman he loved. He lay a hand on her waist and she didn’t shoo him away. No one made a move, all of them laying there quietly breathing. Eventually Cole leaned to the side and switched off the light. Soon they were all asleep.

* * *

At three in the morning Max woke with the stroking of Maggie’s soft, perfect foot along his shin. Opened his eyes, saw her dim face obscured in shadow, her cheek and the edge of her nostril lit in nighttime blue. A glint of light reflected from her open eye.

“I can’t sleep, Max,” she said.

His heart pounded, wide awake in two heartbeats. Every bit of his soul wanted to lurch over her, take her, shove his tongue in her mouth, force his cock between her legs, make her come, make her whole, make her his again. But he played it cool while his pulse flitted excitedly up his neck.

“Me neither,” he said.

She darted her lips to kiss his quickly, pulled away to watch him. Her back was toward the windows and his face was lit better than hers.

“Maggie, I—”

Maggie pressed his lips closed with the tip of a finger and he sighed. A knee came up, bumped his knee, slid up the outside of his thigh. The fabric of the bed sheet bulged as her hands searched underneath, found his wrist, led his hand low. He didn't need instructions. Once she had his hand, had opened her legs, she was giving permission, and he was just glad to be part of her world again. He stroked her tight tum-tum, chuckled breathily, his fingertips sliding lower, exploring the soft plump shape of her vulva. His conquering middle finger stroked first, over her folded hood, parting her labia. He gasped. She needed no warming up.

His finger made wet sounds heard even under the bedding. She watched him still. A bit too timid to venture dirty talk right now, he concentrated on serving her. Stroked and dabbed at her opening, parting the petals of her flower, he teased her. Her lips parted and her eyes narrowed. She grunted softly and her hips churned, her delicate hand stroking his forearm. When he kissed her lips she kissed back, but she wasn't her passionate self, she didn't consume him. They would have to work to get back to where they were. He might have damaged the relationship, but the boat wasn't sinking. It could be patched.

She gasped away from his kiss, not rejecting his lips but seeking air as her breathing became quick and heavy. The heel of her foot she had draped over him dug into his calf, urging him closer. His cock had turned to a hard, iron column in mere seconds after she'd woken him, so hard it throbbed. He worked his fingers through her oily flesh, her sex so productive he smelled her every time their movements rustled the comforter, moving her excited scent past his nostrils, driving him crazy. His fingers thrummed her, made wet smacking noises and now she squeaked with excitement, baring her teeth to him. He slowed, resumed spreading and stroking her.

She cupped her hand under her mouth and she spat a long stream of saliva into her palm and he resisted the urge to tell her his excitement. It would be obvious. He let her lead the way, show him what she wanted. The hand disappeared under the covers and he held his breath, thrust his cock out for her to find. The edge of her hand bumped around, found his hardness, gripped him and stroked her abundant spit up and down his shaft.

“Oh fuck, Maggie,” he sighed.

When she had him coated with the lubrication, she rolled to her other side, showed him her back. Facing Cole now she pressed her rump towards him, parted her legs, reached between them, found his erection. He shimmied down the bed helping guide himself between her legs. He got his own hand in there, stroked her sex while she angled her pelvis towards the point of his incredibly hard penis.

When he pushed she moved away, dipped lower. Did it again, and she shied away. Her hand still guided him, the tips of her fingers angling him.

“What?” he whispered. His eyes roamed over the shape of her head and her wild, silky hair spread on the pillow, to see Cole still sleeping. His handsome profile a black shape against the dusky blue of the bedding.

“Don't move around,” she whispered back to him.

Then she wriggled against him, guided his glans along her sex, getting it nice and slippery—but now she pushed him farther back.

“Okay,” he whispered.

Maggie guided him to her anus, and he braced the curve of her rump with an outstretched hand. She pressed back to him and he wiggled his own hips now, letting her saliva coat the ring of her sphincter so he could slip inside that very tight space. She grunted, gasped, made a squeak, and her sexy noises drove him wild.

Her hand came away, gripped a wad of sheets as he sunk deeply inside her. He flexed his cock, felt it bulge against the incredibly snug restraint of her anus, inducing a ticklish spew of his own lubricant inside her. His strokes came easy now. He fucked her ass slowly and gently, the light playing along the angles of the silky smooth skin of her shoulders arms, and back. Watched her squinting profile as her body accepted him back there.

Watched then as her hand moved beneath the sheets, stretching, reaching across to their friend. A tenting in the fabric appeared as Maggie stroked Cole's stomach to wake him. His eyes fluttered, opened, looked up to the canopy, then his head jerked around to face her. The corner of his cheek pulled up high and Max figured he must be smiling. She whispered something into his ear as he turned to his side to face her, and his hand gripped her arm just above her elbow.

They kissed, their mouths making wet sounds against each other, their heads slowly rocking. Max reached out, held the top hem of their bedding and unfurled it down their bodies, exposing all three of them. He wanted Cole to recognize that Maggie was engaged with him physically, that they were making love. He made big, sweeping movements with his hand, up and down her haunch, up to her waist and caressing her baseball-sized breast, plucking at its swollen bud, then back down. Cole saw, and his hand cupped her neck while they made out.

Their kissing had passion. It had changed from their first time together and it made him wonder what she had done with Cole the night she was vague with details but admitted she'd jerked him off onto her stomach. The night he also learned they'd discussed cheating together. Discussed leaving him out. His worst nightmare. And yet, they'd done it in a way that showed him it would be pretend. That Maggie truly loved him, wouldn't cheat on him, and Cole had wanted to facilitate something he thought lurked in Maggie. He'd been fucking right too. She sure wanted it. And boy did she sure get it. He'd thought about what he’d witnessed tonight a lot before he'd fallen asleep on this very bed in the warm spot his two best friends had made.

Mostly it was the personal things she’d shared with Cole that had never been shared with him; the spanking, the orgasms, the bondage, the squirting. Those were between her and Cole and they were only meant for Cole. Those were things that were done behind Max’s back when she thought he wasn’t looking. All this time he thought he was getting to know the real Maggie—that he gave her the gift to be who she really was, that he was doing things, giving her things, no other man ever could, but he was wrong. She kept this from him. There was a secret part of her that was unknown to Max, but she’d shown it to Cole. She’d given it all to Cole.

Soon his cock had crumpled, and while he thrust, her tight aperture resisted him, buckled his semi-hard cock, folded it up as he tried to fuck her.

Maggie broke from Cole's lips and whispered over her shoulder, “What's happening?” She wiggled her bum against him for emphasis.

“Nothing,” he whispered.

She moved away. Probably didn't mean a thing by it, just wanting to have a good time, but when he failed to please her and she literally went to the arms of another man, it was a symbolic punch in his heart.

Her body shimmied along the sheets, got herself closer to Cole who then put an arm right around her, an object in between her and Max.

He lay a hand on her back while she ran her hands through Cole's hair and they still rocked their faces together.

He wasn't out. He could sit and witness but Maggie belonged to him, and he was a part of this, so he shimmied closer just as she did, getting right up behind her, his cock poking into her ass cheek, still not hard enough to penetrate her, but not a saggy nothing. His hand swept her hip, curled around her tummy and eased low between her legs.

Cole's hardness ran along the back of his hand, alarming him; he withdrew quickly. But that was exciting—Cole's erection brought on by their Maggie and they were all friends and they were about to have a real good time. Her hand squeezed the muscles of Cole's shoulder, her nails denting his flesh as she got a good feel of him. His hand lay over hers and he laced his fingers through hers, piggy-backing over top. He took control of her hand ran it under Cole's arm, down his waist. Maggie's breathing increased and Max’s erection returned with renewed zeal. Their hands flipped underhanded and Cole lifted his leg to open himself up to them. They moved down his belly, his hard cock sticking out straight and upward. He lay their hands on it, gripping it. It was massive. His hand was over Maggie's so it wasn't an accurate gauge, but he could tell how much girth his friend had. He stroked Maggie's hand up and down him and she complied. She moaned, and her body shook with excitement against him. Their kiss broke and Maggie gasped, “Oh fuck,” to the room, her breath coming rapidly as she and Max stroked her lover.

“Oh fuck,” she whispered again, “oh God,” her chest rose and fell in heaving lurches. Cole took one of her nipples in his mouth and he suckled at her. They still stroked him, up and down him from glans to base. Then Maggie slipped her hand from under Max’s and she grabbed him by the thumb, shoved his hand lower and he let her. Her hand lay over his and she used his hand to grip Cole's balls.

“Oh shit,” he whispered into her ear, his cock harder than it had ever been. He wiggled his hips, pushing his cock towards her anus again.

Cole's balls filled his hand and he was careful with them. Had no idea how to handle balls. Knew his own could be hurt easily, so he was cautious. They were hot and sticky, huge, maybe twice the size of his own balls. They were foreign in his hand, the only ones he knew were his own. Maggie stroked him quicker, her breaths still rising and falling with lustful intent, breath scoring through her nostrils loudly. Cole's hips worked now, thrusting his cock through her grip, and she gasped Yes, yes, yes with each one. Max let Cole's scrotum down carefully, his hand came behind Maggie and he took his cock in his grip, marveled at the hardness that had returned, stroked his tip along Maggie's wets seams, found her opening and she paused her movement, eager to have him. He plunged his slippery cock into her backside and she cried out over top of Cole's head.