Sharing Maggie

by KT Morrison

  “Oh, oh fuck, Maggie,” Max whispered into his praying hands.

  She ran her hair back, held it behind her ears and leaned to the flames, spit Cole’s semen into the fire. Coughed a bit, a gag, retched, spit a few more times, then sat back on her heels and looked at Max, her hands on her knees.

  “Oh, Maggie, what have you done?” he whispered.

  Her mouth curved to a trembling bow and her eyes went wet, her brows curling up in sorrow. She shook her head, mouthed, “I don't know.”

  4

  Rooms

  Friday, September 29th

  Maggie fought tears, fought the urge to retch. She could taste her friend's semen in her mouth. Smell it in her exhale. She gulped again. Her breaths trembled, her stomach fluttered, nausea and fear. She’d done something that would never be undone. Couldn't look behind her. Heard Cole's zipper, afraid to turn around and meet his eyes. She could look at Max and that was bad enough.

  He was stuck with horror. Mouth hanging, eyes wide, cupping his hands over his face, smoothing his hair, covering his face again. Looking to Cole, looking to her, mouth trying to speak but nothing was happening. Then Cole was standing. Must have been, because Max was looking up. She heard feet moving through the sand, turned her head over her shoulder and saw Cole walking back to the house, moving from the warm of the fire until the light on his back was cold and blue. Now her tears came. She blinked and blinked, eyelashes fluttering and tears plopping. Max jumped up and he called after Cole.

  “Wait! Cole, hold on,” he said.

  He made to follow, stopped and staggered to her instead and fell on his knees, grabbed her hands and held them.

  “Maggie...” His head tilted sideways with the enormous weight of what she'd just done. “Oh, Maggie,” he sighed. His eyes trembled too, getting wet like hers. When his arms went around her she sobbed. Her hands came up weakly to hold his back. His body was warm and she was so fucking sorry.

  She cried into his shoulder and let him squeeze her. He didn’t have time though, he jumped up, still holding on to her hands. “Maggie, we have to talk to him.”

  “I know,” she cried. She could never talk to him again. She was so ashamed. It had been so hot and she'd wanted to do something like that for so long but now it was over and they were left with a bleak future.

  “Come on,” he said, a tinge of anger to his voice. He grasped her hand and led her through the sand to the path. She looked back at the fire, worried about the littered beer bottles and the flames but Max kept walking and she followed. He led her up to the house and into the kitchen.

  “We have to be quiet,” she reminded him. He let her hand go and she wiped the tears off her cheeks.

  “I know,” he said. They mounted the stairs without making a sound. No creaks in this concrete and steel mansion. At the top of the stairs and down the hall she cowered behind Max as they approached the guest bedroom. The tears came again when she saw in the room. The house was dark but Cole had the lights on in the room, lighting it up so he could pack.

  “Oh, no, no,” she cried. “Oh, Max.”

  Cole's back was to them and they watched him thrust his clothes into his open bag.

  “Max,” she squealed, her nails dug into his shoulder and his arm, then she ran. Ran all the way to her bedroom. Ran before her sobs turned to wails and she brought everyone running to see why they weren't in bed like they'd been told.

  Max watched her run, watched her disappear into the dark of the hall. He could hear the sand falling from her onto the polished wood floor. He wanted to run after her and hold her again. But Cole was leaving and he couldn't let him go.

  “Hey, hold on,” he said quietly, coming into the room behind Cole. Cole’s bag was on the bed, zippered open. He stopped, his back to Max, he slowed his packing but didn't stop.

  Without turning, Cole said, “I gotta go. You...you get a ride back to Vermont? ...”

  Max didn't close the distance, stood behind his good friend, said, “Don’t go.”

  “I have to,” he said. “I have to get out of here.”

  “Please, Cole. Don’t. Please...” He stood uncomfortably still, his hands on his hips. He wanted to put a hand on Cole, steady him, but he felt twisted inside. Trying to preserve his friendship. Mad at Maggie. Mad at Cole, too. He shouldn't be. Max was trying so hard to be big about this, to tower over it. He could do it but when his guard wasn't up he could see his friend's legs kicking in the sand, shooting his come into Maggie's mouth. He knew what Cole's face did now when he came. Knew how it twisted and what shape his mouth formed.

  Cole shouldered his bag, still faced away, went to the table where his raven head pointed out to the black bay, just looking at its own reflection now. Max watched Cole's reflection. His face shadowed, head lowered, shoulders slumped, he lay his palm over the crest of the raven’s head. “I can’t be here.”

  “Don't you dare go.”

  “I didn't...do that.”

  Yeah, you did! Max yelled in his head. He said, “It’s okay. Stay. I want you to stay.”

  “She kissed me, Max.”

  Max shook his head, bit his tongue. Blaming Maggie. Came in her mouth, blames her. “I know.”

  “Why?”

  He took Cole's bag with both hands and eased it away. Cole let the strap come off his shoulder. “Give me your keys,” Max said. “You're not leaving.”

  “On the table,” he said, still looking out the same direction as the raven.

  Max threw Cole's bag onto his own bed and retrieved Cole's keys from a table at the concrete wall facing the foot of the bed. Pocketed them.

  Cole turned now, his face was flush, he ran his hands through his hair. “Max, I’m sorry.”

  “I told you it’s okay.”

  Cole sat on his bed and put his head in his hands. “She did it, Max. I didn't...you watched...”

  “I know,” he said. “Cole, I can explain. I have to see Maggie. She ran off, I want to make sure she’s okay. Just be cool, all right. Sit here. I’m fine.”

  “Is she okay?” he said, his worried face coming away from his hands.

  “I’m going to go see,” he said.

  “Hey,” Cole said, putting his hand out to get Max’s attention before he left. “It’s okay, right? We’ll be okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I mean it, all right?”

  Max left Cole in their bedroom, patted the Jeep key in his front pocket to make sure he had it. Headed down the dark hall, peeled his deck shoes off when they started to give a wet squeak. Continued in his socks to Maggie’s room. Didn’t knock, opened it and slipped in. Big room, much like the one he was in, cold but personalized with Maggie’s artwork and turntable and collection of symphony vinyl. Her bed was a low queen size and she lay on it, on her side, curled, her back to the door. He went to her and sat behind her, put his hand on her waist.

  “I’m so sorry, Max,” she whispered without turning. Her hand came to her waist and lay across his fingers.

  “I’m okay,” he said.

  She turned then, her lamp throwing beautiful warm light across her face. She'd been crying. “Did he leave?” she whispered, a tremble in her voice. Her eyes grew wet.

  He pat his pocket. “I have his keys. He’s staying.”

  “Oh God,” she sighed and covered her face with her hands.

  “What the fuck did you do that for?” he said.

  “I wanted to,” she said into her palms.

  It wasn't the answer he was expecting. He was looking to go after her, to punish her with how upset he felt. But she was blunt. It scared him. He huffed, said, “For how long?”

  Still talking into her hands, she said, “I've wanted to for a long time.”

  “What do you mean?” he said, pulling her hands away.

  “I’m doing the things I missed, remember?”

  “With me,” he whined. “We didn't talk about this.”

  “You liked it.”

  “No, I didn't,” he hissed.

  �
��Yeah, you did,” she said. “You didn't stop me. You sat and watched.”

  He grit his teeth and stared across her room. Looked at a painting she had done. Much like the Jackson Pollock, it was a spattered mess but it seemed to say something. Seemed to have order in its chaos. Maggie dried her cheeks with her fingers. Sniffed and stared at the ceiling.

  “You have feelings for Cole?”

  “Yeah,” she said. She put her hand on his thigh. “He’s my friend. He’s our best friend, Max. He means so much to me. Not like you, Max. He’s just...”

  “Hot?”

  “Well, he is,” she said.

  “You've thought about him before? Before Jay?”

  “Not for real. I...I have eyes, Max. I’ve always been able to see that he’s hot.”

  Max groaned and doubled over, put his hands to his face. She sat up. Her hand smoothed his back in circles. He sat up again and looked at her. “You want to fuck him?”

  “Yeah,” she nodded, eyes on his for a moment then darting to watch the floor.

  He felt empty. It should have stung him but he was already throbbing with emotional pain. This revelation, which he saw coming, added no more discomfort to the omnipresent suffering. But still, while he hurt and mourned the lost innocence of their relationship just a week ago, he rode that hurt like a wave, feet steady on a longboard, feeling its splashes, wet from its slick pain, but cresting it, riding its thrill and feeling the exhilaration of taming something so powerful.

  “Doesn't that arouse you?” she said.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I want it to arouse you.”

  “Ah,” he groaned again. “Maggie, it’s my best friend...”

  “I thought you liked seeing me like that...”

  “I do. I really do, Maggie.”

  “That’s so hot, Maxy,” she said, rubbing his arm now and watching herself do it.

  “But it’s Cole. We see him every day. He’s...”

  “With Cole you can be there. Right there. Max, wouldn't you like that?”

  “Yeah,” he admitted.

  “You don't have to hide, Max. You could be there. Maybe you could participate...”

  “Ungh,” he grunted, a sudden lascivious swirl twirling up inside him like a dirty dust devil. He clenched his thighs together, picturing it. Being right there, touching her while she was shared. But he couldn't separate Cole from the picture.

  “You really want to fuck him, don’t you?”

  Her hand fell from his arm and made a fist on his thigh. “Don't be mean, Max. You'll ruin this.”

  He looked deep in her eyes. Felt very distant from her. In a strange moment he saw his relationship with her dwarfed in scale by this new thing, this sexuality. It bullied him. He feared it. He lightened her by saying, “A threesome?”

  She shrugged and pinched a smile off. Stared into his eyes now. She shrugged again and leaned closer. Said, “I want you to get off on this.”

  “Okay,” he whispered.

  “Would you marry me if we met last year?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even if I had slept with Jay or Cole or whoever...before that? ...Before I knew you.”

  He nodded.

  Her thin arms went around his neck. She said, “That’s what we’re doing, remember?”

  “I know.”

  “Don't forget.”

  “Yeah,” he said, trying to mask an irritation. Not because of Maggie entirely. An encompassing feeling of loss of control. Like Maggie had pulled ahead of him in traffic and now he was following her, trying to keep up with her. What had started as his manipulation—using data gleaned from devious spying—was becoming very slippery and he was afraid he would lose his grip.

  “Is he mad?” she asked, her hands rubbing both his thighs.

  “No. Freaked out.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “I’ll talk to him. Maybe—”

  “Kiss me.” She leaned to him, eyes lowered, then closing as her pouted lips came to take his.

  He moved away.

  “Max...”

  “He...in your mouth...”

  Her soft warm hands came to his cheeks and she stared in his eyes. “You went down on me...after Jay...”

  “I know Cole...it’s...”

  “You know how hot that made me? You made me come so hard...”

  “You liked it?”

  She inhaled deep, her eyes intent, her front teeth pressing down very hard into her bottom lip, her hips raising up as if she was squeezing her pelvic muscles.

  “Shit, Maggie,” he sighed.

  She said, “You really love me.” Not a question. A statement. He did.

  “I do.”

  “Just kiss me,” she whispered again, her lips coming to his. He kissed her. She worked her wet mouth over his, her tongue parted his reluctant lips, he let her. She worked her slim slippery tongue over his, her mouth made wet sticky sounds. She pulled away, said, “Do you taste him?”

  He shook his head no.

  She took his wrist with both her hands and she led his hand under her skirt, rising to her knees. Slipped his hand under her stockings and he felt between her legs. She was slick and engorged. Plump lips full of excitement, begging for a cock. Cole’s cock. She held his shoulders and kissed him again. Her tongue probed his mouth, she was more passionate, heavy breaths scoring through her nose. She sucked his tongue, pulled back. His hand stoked her pussy. She said, “Taste him now?”

  He shook his head again.

  She wiped at her lips with the back of her hand, said, “I taste him.”

  “Fuck, Maggie,” he sighed, his mouth hanging open, his heart beginning to pound.

  She whispered right in his ear, teasing him, “His come tasted so good, Max.”

  He slipped a finger inside her as she spoke. It stiffened and his heart jumped at her awful words. “Oh shit,” he said, feeling his innards constringe.

  She sat back on her heels, her eyes wide, both hands covering her mouth, her worried brows raised. She said, “Is that okay? Can I say that?”

  He worked his finger in circles inside her, heard how wet she was, her tight little pussy making slick crackling noises.

  “Mm,” she moaned, enjoying it, pushing her hips for her pussy to meet his touch. “Ah,” she gasped, “It’s so hot. I’m so bad.”

  “You are, Maggie. You're so bad.”

  Up on her knees again, hands on his shoulders, legs parted so he could finger her, she whispered in his ear again. “Max, did you see his cock?”

  “I did,” he said.

  “It was so fat. The head was so big, Max. I could barely suck him.”

  “Jesus, Maggie,” he moaned.

  She giggled, squeezed his shoulders. “God, that's so sexy, Max. Mm...” she hummed, bucking her hips against his stroking fingers.

  “Go get him, Max. Bring him here.”

  “What? Maggie...”

  “Please, go get him,” she said, eyes lowered, biting her lip again.

  “I don't think he’s in the mood, Maggie.”

  “He is,” she said.

  “No, he was really...like, upset.”

  “Please...try, Max. Try,” she said.

  He sat back so he could see her. Messy hair, lusty eyes, her hips flexing with excitement, like she needed it. Her pouted lips puffy from sucking a big cock, from kissing Max. He’d never seen her like this. He wanted to be excited, but it scared him. He had not anticipated her being such a devoted participant in his fantasy. He tempted her into fucking Jay and now, one week later, she sucked his best friend’s cock without his permission. He let her see the worry in his face. He was too much of a coward to give her words right now, but maybe if she saw his fear she would have sympathy.

  She didn't waver, whined in a whisper, “Please, Max.”

  He skated the hallway in his socks, back to his room, found Cole sitting on the bed. He had his phone out but his screen was blank.

  Max said, “Shit, you're not calling a cab...
”

  “No,” he said, expressionless. “I was going to. What took so long...I thought you weren't going to come back...”

  “Sorry,” he said, and he set himself on the bed across from Cole, their knees pointing at each other. “Sorry, we had to talk.”

  “So what the fuck is happening?” Cole asked, anger scraping the edges of his bewildered voice.

  “Fuck, dude,” Max said, wringing his hands and looking up at the ceiling. “I don't even know where to start.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s...fine, yeah. She’s sorry. She's worried you might be...freaked out...”

  “Freaked out? ...I am freaked the fuck out, Max.”

  “Okay,” he said, “calm down. You didn't exactly stop her.”

  “Ah, fuck,” Cole sighed, looking to the ceiling too, rubbing his cheeks.

  “Maggie wants...she feels like...she’s only been with me...” he said finally, lowering his eyes to Cole, hoping making eye contact would fill the gaps, stop him searching for words.

  Cole looked in his eyes, his head shaking slightly, he looked away. “Why wouldn't you fucking tell me...”

  “It wasn't planned,” he blurted, “it wasn't something we talked about. She just did it. She didn't even know she was going to until she...was doing it. I didn't ask her to or any weird shit like that...it was all...organic. She...likes you...trusts you...”

  “Aw, Maggie...” Cole said to himself, running his finger around a leather bracelet, tugging it in wide circles.

  Max said, “Is that okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I wish...I wish, like, someone had said something. I was...” He looked to Max’s eyes again, said, “You're not mad at me?”

  “It hurt,” he said. “I didn't enjoy it, but I...love her.”

  Cole inhaled sharply, changed the subject fast, said, “I thought she was with that Lee guy...”

  “One time. That’s it.”

  “Shit, Max,” he said, lowered his head and ran his fingers through his hair and shook it. “Fuck,” he hissed.

  “Is it all right? Are we all right?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I didn’t stop her...”