Maggie 6-8 (Patreon)

“Are you going to come?” she whispered in Cole’s ear as he drove himself into her hard.

“Yeah, mm,” he grunted. “I’m close.”

“Ah,” she gasped, eager to feel his eruption. She moiled her hips against his thrusts for a while then whispered, “Come on my face.”

He slowed. “What?”

“I want you to come on my face.”

“You want that?”

“Claim me ... make me yours.”

His thrusts slowed, and he held his head back to look in her eyes. “You sure?”

“You come in other girls’ faces?”

He held her gaze but said nothing.

“Make me yours, Cole.”

His thrust continued, hesitatingly, and he bit his sexy lower lip.

She said, “You don’t want to?”

“I want to so bad, Maggie. You’ve got my heart so worked up,” he whispered, and he took her hand in his and lay it over his chest.

She smiled and felt his hot skin, could feel the pounding of his strong heart under her palm. “Okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he gasped and nodded.

“I really want it, Cole.”

His lips trembled, and he fucked her harder while he looked in her eyes with his hand on hers as it lay over his heart. He built it up, got himself right on the edge and she never took her eyes from his. Their breaths came faster and faster, his thrusting quicker and more urgent. She felt him leaking inside her.

“Okay, Cole, okay ...?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, and he withdrew, jumped up to his knees and she scooted to the pillows and sat with her legs apart.

He got himself close to her, his cock swinging and bobbing before he gripped it and began to jerk himself furiously.

“I want it,” she whispered, and she ran her hands up his thighs and held his balls.

There was a tremble in the muscles of his legs, a flutter in his belly as he stroked himself. Knowing he was close excited him, anticipating the enormity of this moment was driving him. This was going to end with an incredible bonding. He drew it out, and she waited, enjoying the anxious breadth of the moment.

She whispered, “Do it, do it, claim me, Cole.”

His stroke came faster, her eyes narrowed but wanted to see, looking and seeing the veins bulging in his hand, his foreskin stretching and puckering, the head of his cock swollen to bursting proportion, could see slippery excitement seeping from his hole.

“That's it, that's it,” she gasped, her breaths coming as heavily and urgently as Cole’s.

He grunted, “Close, mm, close your eyes.”

“I want to watch.”

“Seriously Maggie, it, ah, it stings if it gets-s in your eyes.”

“How do you know?”

“Just open your mm-mouth ...”

She did, let her mouth fall open, pressed her tongue down and let the tip slip over her lower lip.

“Oh, fuck, Maggie … ah, Maggie …” Cole blurted, and she closed her eyes now, felt Cole's hand on her neck, turned her face up to his, gave her the most placid and beatific expression she could. Let her mouth fall open and extended her tongue farther.

Cole roared, the hot animalistic sounds ripping from him charging up her insides, swelling her heart and supercharging her sex. His stroking stopped suddenly and Cole came.

She bubbled wetly between her legs at his masculine expulsion. She felt it then, hot flashes on her face. Up over her forehead, across her cheek, into her eyes, blocking a nostril, splashing in her mouth. She breathed and stretched her tongue farther, curled it till it touched the point of her chin, desperate to feel his seed on her tongue. He landed it there, a hot mess that trickled down into her throat and her tongue darted back to curl it and taste it.

It kept coming; across her nose, pooling in the cup of her left eyeball ... She felt it dribbling down her neck, from her face and onto her collar. The whole while Cole's hand pumped and squeezed, his grunts and roars and groans over top of the slick sound of his hand on his cock.

She wished to encourage him, wanted to say how she loved it but her mouth was held open for him, wanting him to enjoy this moment; and he did. When the spurting stopped, and all that was left was the roar of his breathing, he slipped the head of his penis into her mouth and she took it, swallowed it, let it go right back to her throat then drew her lips to a point, swallowed all that still dribbled from him.

“Oh, my God, holy shit, Maggie,” Cole gulped as he took his penis from her mouth and dropped to sit on his heels, both his hands on her neck.

He held her, pulled her close to him, their chests slipping across one another with the wetness of his discharge. She felt so loved in his arms, cradled and safe. She dug the pad of a thumb through her eye and cleared it, tried blinking and felt the sting of his semen. She murmured complaint, and he hugged her tighter.

“Ow,” she said, and put the back of her wrist into her eye socket.

Cole let her go, and she covered her face with both hands, bending forward letting his semen drip to the bedding. But he was on her then, and she felt the warmth of the sweatshirt he wore pressed to her eye and cleaning her. He did it lovingly, with care, cleaning his discharge from her, soft purring groan in his chest as he did.

She stopped him before he could finish, pushed his hand away. She blinked, saw a fractal image of his handsome face watching her with concern. She smiled, said, “That was really hot.”

“You’re mine now,” he said in a low quiet voice.

She nodded but said nothing in return. And then he held her again, pulled her to him and ran his hands in circles around her back and her waist.

She whispered, “Can you take a picture?”

He stiffened. “Are you sure?”

“I think so. I don’t want to leave him out. I don’t want him to be separate from us.”

“Yeah, but ...”

He held her away from him but she could barely see with her eyes still squinted and stinging.

“Take a picture,” she said again.

His body heat left her as he got off the bed and made his way to Jessie’s, retrieving the phone where she dropped it.

“Holy shit, Maggie,” he said.

“What?”

“You’re not going to believe it ...”

“What is it?” she asked, a growing anxiety coming up her back.

“Look,” he said.

“I can’t,” she said, blinking her eyes again.

“Look,” he repeated.

Slowly her eyes opened, lashes fluttering uncontrollably. Cole stood at the side of the bed and he held the phone to her for her to look.

She murmured, “What ...? I can’t ...”

He moved the phone closer.

There under the last text he had sent—the image of his bulbous cock head underneath her shaved pussy—Cole had written: Thumbs up, buddy, if you want more. And below that, sent from her sweet Max, the emoji of a large thumbs-up.

“He got back to us,” she softly sang. “Oh, my Maxy.”

“He’s not mad at us,” Cole said, turning the phone so he could look again.

“I told you,” she said.

“You feel better now?”

“I do. I feel a lot better.”

“You really want ...? Want me to take this picture?”

“Do I look bad?”

“You look beautiful.”

“Take it, please,” she said. Then added, “Not my whole face, just my mouth and nose, okay?”

“Hold still,” he told her and she closed her eyes and tilted her chin toward him.

He asked, “Max never, you know ...?”

“Came in my face?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re the first.”

The sound of the shutter came from the camera and he sat then on the bed. “Did you like it?”

“I liked it ‘cause it was you,” she said, then his warm sweatshirt was back, wiping at her face and she leaned herself against him as he cleaned her.

When he was done, when her face had been dried and his sweatshirt tossed to the floor, he looked in her eyes and smiled. She cupped a hand to his cheek.

He wagged the phone now. “Are you sure I should send this?”

“Yeah. It’s like he’s here with us. It bothers you?”

He nodded. “You’re here with me. Max doesn’t need to be here. You wanted to be open remember?”

“Please send it.”

“Do you want to see it first?”

She shook her head no. “Is it bad?”

“I wouldn’t want it.”

“Max does. My Max does.”

Cole stared at the screen for a while but did nothing.

She said, “Let’s see the one Jessie took. Maybe we send that one first.”

* * *

The room he’d booked for two nights had a king-size bed, and a small pie-shaped balcony with a view inland, toward the city. He entered and walked right past the high, crisply made bed, threw his bag on the blue tweed couch and followed behind, bouncing on it till he settled with his feet up and crossed over. What the fuck was he thinking?

He hadn’t anticipated such resistance from Ken. He’d always seemed so meek and understanding. Way he pictured this going, he had this room for two-nights and had anticipated meeting up with Ken tonight, maybe tomorrow, go out for dinner, go meet some of his friends. If he’d asked, Ken would have obliged, but after that impasse this afternoon he just wanted to be home in Vermont.

His phone buzzed, and he jumped. It was in his front pocket, close to his scrotum. Fished it out with one hand, his mind racing, wanting to see what they had sent him now, his brain saying maybe it didn’t really want to see. The last image had been a doozy. Cole and Maggie’s bare sex equipment so close. He knew they would fuck, didn’t know why she was being so coy. Of course, as much as it hurt his heart, it did make him feel welcome. He sent a thumbs-up. So, feeling a little lighter, he checked his screen and saw this message wasn’t from Cole but from his beloved Maggie this time. He smiled.

Maggie: tell me you’re okay

He texted:

Max: I’m ok. miss you big time

He pried the heels of his shoes off with his toes and let them fall to the carpet next to the couch.

Maggie: miss you so much. can’t wait until ur home with me

Someone was feeling guilty, which was sweet. He’d only been gone for half a day, they normally would be apart this long any day of the week. Still, the distance between them was palpable.

Max: tell me u love me

Maggie: I love you forever

Max: love you too

Maggie: u okay with pics?

He rolled his head from side to side and flexed and stretched his neck.

Max: yeah

There was a long delay, and he watched the screen the whole time. It rose and fell on his chest while he breathed deeply.

Maggie: want another one?

Oh, man, she had him. He mouthed the words No, to his phone, but every molecule in his body right now absolutely fucking needed to see this picture. He didn’t even say yes, and the picture was sent. It flashed a quick timing wheel and then there it was. The two of them together in her bed. His fiancée and his best friend. Cole was between her legs and they were fucking. Skin a little shiny, laying on her bed, her head in her pillows, right where he had left her this morning. His cock was still sore from all the fucking they did last night but his newly realized sex-demon still needed more plowing. God, she was so sexy, though. He ran a fingertip down her digital calf.

He simply texted:

Max: hot

Maggie: still ok?

Max: love you more than ever

He lay there for another long while and no more texts came. He typed one:

Max: Did you study?

There was a delay while he waited, but then, finally, she texted:

Maggie: I did. and I drew Cole :)

He laughed. Hoped they had fun today. Hoped they were silly and light, and that they thought of him.

Max: Tied him up with your pink tights?

Maggie: Ha ha, he wasn’t trying to get away

Max sat up and put his feet on the floor. Zipped his bag down and fished out a T-shirt and sweatpants he’d packed. While he changed, he lay the phone face up on the seat cushion of the couch. Before he slipped his shirt on, he touched the screen to scroll back to the new photo. Put his shirt on, bent over and examined it again. It was a hot photo. He wasn’t lying. Their faces weren’t visible, but he knew it was Maggie. It was her feet, her ankles, her hand on Cole’s arm. It was Cole who was between her legs, he could see the thick, long blonde hair. Something bothered him, and he finally realized what it was. He scrolled back down, typed:

Max: Hey, who took that picture?

He sat with his phone for five minutes but she didn’t get back to him. He examined the picture again. The two of them in bed, her legs wrapped around Cole’s hips, her heels in his rump. The light came from behind; it was midday. It was dim, like there was a storm. The picture was taken from near Jessie’s bed and he tried to fathom how they’d managed it. Was it placed on a shelf, on one of Jessie’s art projects? They must have set a timer.

After five minutes had passed, he began to imagine she had another boy in there with her. That Cole brought one of his lacrosse buddies to tag team her and sweet and gullible Maggie said, Okay, that sounds like fun. They took turns fucking her ass and her pussy and laughing and taking pictures. Just like that, his stomach turned rotten and curled inward like a suppurating post-Halloween pumpkin. He belched in his throat and felt bile splash up. That was crazy. She wouldn’t do that, would she? He was having trouble rectifying the real Maggie with the Maggie he had painted for her brother. She wasn’t really that wanton, was she? It would kill him if she did that. Two guys at once and he wasn’t one of them? He felt his brow lower and his eyes well with sadness. He couldn’t wait to be home.

Then, on cue:

Maggie: Can’t wait to see you. want you here with me

She ignored the question of the photographer and he wouldn’t ask again. Not till he was home. He rested his hand on his own heart and felt his chest and neck shaking with its powerful beats.

Max: I’ll be home soon. we’ll go do something fun mon night

She texted him another happy face emoji, followed by a few hearts. A minute later she resumed with:

Maggie: how are your folks? did you say hi from me?

He hung his head with sad shame. He forgot he was up to his own nonsense today and now he had to lie.

Max: of course

Maggie: what did you do today?

Max: nothing

Maggie: you guys go out?

Max: yeah

He grumbled and ran his hands through his hair, hating that he would lie to her like this.

Maggie: are they around? wanna skype?

Max: they’re out back maybe later

Enormous guilt fell over him now. Why did he want to manipulate her? She was perfect.

Before any more questions came he texted:

Max: hey gotta go ttyl heading out for dinner

He set his phone down and hated himself. He’d come out here to perform an illegitimate task, but it was for the greater good. But he was so fucking deceitful. When did it get like this? Why wouldn’t honesty with Maggie be the path he took? What would make him think that, however noble the cause, lying to his fiancée and attempting manipulations behind her back was acceptable?

Under it all, he realized he must be hurting. It was the only thing that made sense. As much as he loved to see her with Cole and sometimes Jay, as much as he put up a brave face and told her to experiment, he was hurting himself. And it wasn’t necessarily that she was having sex with these guys. That wasn’t bad. He liked it. It aroused him. Cole’s closeness wasn’t Maggie’s fault.

There was something else tugging at him and he couldn’t see its face yet. He worried that when he saw its face, it would be his own, like looking in a mirror. The problem he had was his own lies. Maggie was happy, but she’d been tricked into this. Was she tricked into liking it? How much did she actually like this? When she tired of fucking these other hot guys would she see her Max the same way? When all the hot-blooded passion was exhausted, and she looked around her would she turn her nose up at the activities spurred by the boy she was supposed to marry? Wouldn’t then a guy like Cole just take her hand and walk away with her? If that were to happen it would be his own damn fault. And it wasn’t the sex with Cole that would separate them, it would be his own amateur Machiavellian scheming. He was hurting her. That’s what was wrong. His lies, his manipulations. He was hurting her, and she didn’t even know it.

His thumbs flashed on the screen and in a few minutes he had changed his open-ended ticket, booking a flight home first thing in the morning. Save himself another two-fifty on the hotel room by going home. What was the point anyway? ...why keep up the ruse he was staying with his folks if he was going to come clean?

He would see Maggie by lunch time tomorrow and maybe he would sit with her and begin to relate to her the truth. As soon as the decision had been made, he felt better. Now he couldn’t wait to tell her the truth. Never felt closer to her suddenly. They’d shared so much as a couple in the last few weeks, grown in crazy ways but they were still one unit. Everything up till now had been fun. If he was honest with her, the closeness with Cole would dissipate. He was her true other, not Cole. She could still fuck him if he was honest. He could picture himself telling her the truths and she was mad at him, but soon they were giggling and rolling on the bed.

Of course, he saw his meeting with Ken going better—he might be bad at imagining. There was a danger still lurking that she may have trouble facing: a video most likely did exist, and it wasn’t her brother who hid it. Then again, sometimes those things really did just shit the bed.

Tomorrow would be a new day, and to celebrate he lay on the bed and flipped through the menu. With the money saved on the canceled night in the hotel he splurged a little and ordered a steak and potato, and a bottle of beer. As he waited he considered only one possible concern: Ken calling Maggie tonight and spilling the beans before he could talk to her tomorrow. He would be as truthful as he could with her, softening the edges of some of the more nefarious of his schemings, but if Ken leaked it first, he would have a much tougher time.

Before his meal arrived, his phone buzzed again with an incoming text.

Maggie: I have another picture but it’s really bad, you don’t want to see it

His stomach tightened with dread. What would be so bad? He pictured a close up of Cole’s cock sliding inside her and his fingers twitched and his palms sweated.

Max: yes I do

After an agonizing delay which he was sure she was doing on purpose, she answered:

Maggie: You sure?

Max: I’m sure

Maggie: It’s really bad. You have to say please

She had his full attention. He answered.

Max: Please

Maggie: I warned you

Room service had terrible timing and while he waited they knocked on the door. He held for a moment, watching the screen of his phone and waiting. They knocked again.

“Fuck,” he whispered and set his phone face down on the bed, answered, ushered the young server in and tipped him, got him the heck out of there. When he was alone again, he stood by the bed and looked at the backside of his phone as it lay on the crisp comforter. His palms were wet with worry and he wriggled his fingers in anticipation. The steak smelled delicious.

When he was prepared, he flipped it over and swiped his phone back to life. He lost his appetite.