Sharing Maggie

by KT Morrison

  “I know...”

  “I didn't stop her because you were there. Whatever...” he said, throwing his hands up. “I didn't want to...do that...but because you were there my body wouldn't...let my brain tell me to leave.”

  “I know.”

  “I didn't kiss her. I would never...”

  “She knows I’m okay with it, but she didn't tell me it would be...you...”

  “Are we going to be okay?” Cole asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. He held his hand out and Cole took it, pulled himself to Max’s bed and sat next to him. Put his arm around him, said, “Sorry. Sorry about this.”

  Max made a fist and he bumped Cole’s knee. “I’m happy. I want this for her. I do.”

  “I don’t know. I guess I get it.”

  “Right? Not when we’re married.”

  Cole nodded, his body rocking with his continued affirmation. Eyes lost in thought.

  Max took a deep breath, held it. Slowly exhaled, turned to Cole so he would face him, but his eyes settled on his chest rather than his face.

  “She wants...” He stopped. Breathed again. Said, “Would you? ...”

  “Really?” he said. Max was bothered by a squeezed excitement in Cole’s voice. Knew he would agree to have sex with her just by that tone. Hurt that it was so easy to undo all the good in the relationship. Just friends this morning, now she’d sucked his cock, kissed him, tasted his come, and Max was negotiating intercourse.

  Cole looked to the floor, wistful, a smile on his mouth. He chuckled, shook his head.

  “Not tonight,” Max blurted. “Some time.”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “I’ll be there,” Max added, trying to poison the offer.

  Cole nodded. “Aw, little Maggie,” he sighed, his smile curling higher, his eyes still envisioning the two of them together or whatever it was he was lost in. “She’s so sweet.”

  “Can I tell her you will?”

  “Yeah, Max. You want me to go with you?”

  “No, she’s still upset by what happened.”

  “Shit, Max. I should talk to her.”

  “Let me talk to her first.”

  Cole agreed, returned to his bed, that dumb smile still plastered on him.

  Max told him he’d be back and he slipped down the hall, head cocked, listening for any movement in the house. Got to Maggie’s room and slipped inside.

  5

  Final Symphony

  Friday, September 29th

  Maggie lay naked in her teenage bed, staring at the high ceiling. She couldn't close her eyes. She’d stripped out of her skirt, hose, and top after Max went to talk to Cole. Ran to her bathroom and put on deodorant and brushed her teeth, ran a brush through her hair. Hopped back in bed and waited and worried.

  She sucked Cole’s fucking cock. Why the fuck did she do that? She hadn't planned on it. Didn't lure him to the beach so she could. She loved Cole like a friend. He was a good guy. Funny and charming, and so handsome. Out of her league. One second she’s pulling his leg about her imaginary boyfriend, the next she's kissing him. Craning her neck, eyes darting from his eyes to his luscious lips, moving slow, slower... Heart racing out of control when Cole’s lips moved towards hers. Not away, but to her. He wanted to kiss her. She wondered if he’d ever thought of her that way before tonight.

  She lay in the LED glow of the sleek scissored Toan Nguyen lamp next to her bed, bare shoulders poking above the duvet. Her hands stroked her thighs. She could feel herself slippery again, even though she’d tidied and talced in the bathroom, from front right up the back. What had got into her these days?

  Cole had responded with more than his kisses. Her hand had found him hard in his pants. Then, with Max watching, she unzipped him. Hard as a rock. She made Cole hard. Gave her a deep thrill.

  One week now and she’d slept with Jay—who might have been the hottest guy she’d ever seen—and now Cole, another solid TEN. Handsome, rugged, smart, driven, and he was funny. And God, his cock was so nice. It felt so good to have him in her mouth. The head of his cock was big and plump. She’d never seen a foreskin before and it wasn't gross, like she’d heard. She thought it was kind of—

  Her door opened and she whipped her hands from between her legs where they’d wandered and played in her wetness. She dried them on her sheet, sat up.

  “Max?” She whispered, then, seeing him alone, said, “Where is he?”

  Max shushed her, a hiss, and then a finger to his lips. He came to the side of the bed, said, “I saw your dad out there.”

  “What? Where?”

  “I heard him in the hall...”

  “He doesn't... Where’s Cole?”

  “It’s too risky, Maggie. He’s back in the room.”

  “He didn't come?” she said, hearing a whine in her voice and a tension seared across her forehead.

  “I’m here, Maggie. I’m here,” Max said, and he lifted the cover to slip in next to her. “Maggie, you're naked...”

  “I know,” she said, scooting to give him some room.

  “What did he say, Max? Is it okay?”

  “He’s fine, Maggie,” Max said, slipping next to her under the duvet. They lay on their sides facing each other.

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I don't know. I said...he said he would.”

  “Would what, Max?”

  “He would sleep with you.”

  “He’d sleep...how did you ask him?”

  “I said, you know, you didn’t have sex with anyone but—”

  “You told him that? Max...why would you say that?”

  “No...it’s...I said, no, I said, you wanted to experiment...”

  “Experiment?”

  “I don't know, Maggie. I don't know how to talk to him about this. I’m sorry. You could have tried talking with him first, instead of sucking—”

  “Hey, Max, don't, okay, don't.”

  He stared at her, rubbed his chin into his shoulder. Waited a moment and said, “Sorry, Maggie. I don't know how to do this, okay?”

  “Does he want to? For real?”

  “Yeah, he said he would.”

  “Why didn’t he come?”

  “He didn't feel like it tonight. He's still freaked out.”

  “Ah, fuck,” she said, feeling an awful heavy feeling come over her.

  “What?”

  “He...what if he doesn't think of me like that...” Saying it out loud sealed the deal on the malaise that washed over her. She covered her face with her hands and moaned. “Oh fuck. I'm so stupid. Stupid, stupid. Oh, I made such a fool of myself.”

  “No, Maggie,” he said and he pulled her hands away and she watched him through narrow eyes. “I mean it—he said he would. He will, too. Back in Vermont.”

  “It has to be here, Max. I want to do it now.”

  Max rubbed his head and looked across her room towards her records.

  “How freaked out is he?”

  “He’s a little freaked out,” he said without looking at her.

  “Fuck,” she said. “God, I’m so stupid.” She spun her legs out of the cover and onto the floor.

  “What are you doing?” Max asked.

  “I don't know,” she said. She got up and opened a drawer and found a pair of sweatpants. Grabbed them and a T-shirt. “I have to talk to him.”

  Max was behind her in an instant. His hands coming around her and holding her. He said, “Stay with me.”

  “Max,” she said. “I have to talk to Cole.”

  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow...”

  “Max, let me go.”

  He lifted her. Her feet came right off the floor and she clutched her T-shirt balled to her naked chest. His arms were bars across her stomach and her legs kicked for balance, her sweatpants hooped around her ankles, not pulled up yet. “Max!” she hissed.

  Thrown face first on the bed, her chin dug into the mattress and her head bounced. Max was on her. His chest pressed to her back, his hips digging his erec
tion through his pants against her rump. He clutched her hair and he humped his cock into her crack. She kicked her legs behind her, trying to get higher up the bed but she was pinned.

  “Max, what are you—”

  But she knew. She was a bad girlfriend. He’d watched her suck his best friend's cock. A horrible thing. But he was turned on by it. She forgot. She fucking forgot about Max's turn. She’d sat with him on her bed and woe-is-me’d about Cole. She must have drove him mad. Her poor Max had an aching hard-on and all she was occupied with was getting her future-husband to convince their friend to come and fuck her. She wanted to laugh. She would have if the act she had performed on their friend wasn't threatening to rip apart a wonderful relationship she had with Cole. And a friendship between Max and Cole. And what if Cole was secretly laughing at nerdy Maggie going down on him? What if he told other girls what a loser she was? Sucked him right in front of her boyfriend. You should have seen that little slut.

  She rounded on Max. Caught him with his hand in his zipper, pulling his stiff cock out. She slapped him right across his face. Kept her hand flat, she wanted to make noise, not hurt him. She had his attention. He looked like he might cry.

  Pushed his hand out of the way, grabbed his fleshy rod sticking straight and eager out of his open fly. Stroked his little handful, said, “You want one too? Want a blow job?”

  His head was rolling on his powerless neck. He was under her control. She stood, stroked, and walked him backwards until he sat down in a low leather chair in the corner of her room. She stepped out of her sweatpants and squat between his open legs.

  “Max, I’m twenty-one and I never had sex in my bedroom.”

  He caressed her cheek and she kissed his thumb.

  “I’m sorry, Max. I'm sorry I got so crazy tonight. Were you going to rape me?”

  “Maggie, don't say that...”

  She kissed the heel of his hand, stroked his cock. Watched it in her grip, looked at her fiancé’s sex organ. Now the fourth cock she’d been intimate with. Numbers expanding, experiences rippling in concentric waves, an undulating pattern working away from the node—the day Max said he wanted her to sleep with Jay. She was growing, she was becoming whole. A light burning inside her glowing brighter and chasing her shadows away.

  “Max, I’m going to suck your cock and you're going to come in my mouth.”

  “Okay,” he said weakly.

  “Want some music?”

  He shrugged. The leather squeaked.

  “Take your pants down for me, Max,” she said as she stood. It was night and while this house was bombproof there were rules. No music past ten. It was well past ten now.

  She flipped the green acrylic lid on her Beogram turntable. Opened the three-fold packaging of Final Symphony. Turned to see her Max watching her dumbly with his cock in his hand. She smiled. He'd taken his pants down for her.

  She stood naked and had never felt so sexually independent in her life. Placed the vinyl on the deck, set the needle down. Beyerdynamics already plugged into the gold inset on her tube amp. Lifted the headphones and brought them to Max, placed them over his ears and he suckled at her hardened nipples while she did. She held his head like he was her little baby and watched him feed from her. She could hear the gentle strains of the London Symphony Orchestra around the seal on the headphones. Full London Symphony, mixed at Abbey Road, playing the music from Final Fantasy. Max’s level of interest in symphony, but expertly played. She lifted one of the black ears and said, “Too loud?”

  He shook his head no, his face frozen with anticipation. She eased him off her breasts, encouraged him to lay back and receive her pleasure.

  Max had told her she was good at this. She didn't know. She was enthusiastic. She’d only sucked Max up til last week. Hardly performed for Jay. Too eager to have him inside her. Cole was responsive. Maybe just the taboo of receiving unexpected oral sex from a good friend. She’d like to think though that she'd done it with her skills. That he appreciated how she made him feel with her mouth. She liked to do it. Liked the feel in her mouth. Liked the smooth texture of the tight skin, that stretched bow along the frenulum, liked how it played over her tongue. Max’s was more pronounced. Jay had it too, but Cole didn’t really. The head of Cole’s cock was so big and round. That was a nice feel. The skin of his glans was tight as a drum and smooth as porcelain. Jay’s glans was rough. Not as plump, but still big. Max’s was small and narrow. Easy to work with. She could do all kinds of things with Max’s cock. Anything really. Take him all the way. Jay and Cole were a little unwieldy. Maybe that’s why Max said she was good. Because he was small and she could perform easily. Maybe any girl could give him a good blow job. Maybe her skills would be diminished when applied across a larger sample number.

  His cock flat in her palm, she ran her tongue up him. From between his balls all the way to the tip of him, pointing her tongue into the hole he peed from. Forced it in there until he grimaced. Smiled at him as he watched with the black phones on the sides of his head, like fallen Mickey ears. She held one of her breasts, brought it to his cock held in her other hand, ran her nipple over his tip. It made his legs jump and his belly flutter.

  “You like that?” she said, but he didn’t hear her.

  Other nipple now, ran her pointed bud around the flared edge of his cock. Her pink nipple folded against his hard glans. Lowered then and squished both his balls into her mouth. Pulled them far from his body and watched his eyes on her. Tongue swiping up again to the very end and consumed him. Gulped him in one quick move that had his tip poking the top of her palette. Deep but not as deep as the others. He didn’t make her gag. Made her eyes water. Tongue spread wide, underside scraped over her bottom teeth, covered his balls, stroking at them. Max shuddered.

  Moved here when she was ten. Spent her unfolding years, opened like a flower in this house. Like a veal in a cage, or like a square watermelon. Confined, forced into a shape dictated by her mother. Exploding with youthful sexuality she instead played and played, practiced and practiced, painted, read book after book, homework, homework, homework. Dreamed of boys in here. But that’s all they ever were. Ethereal conjuring, pretend manifest. Humped her pillows. Didn’t hold hands or kiss until Lee. No movies, no late night phone calls. No dick pics.

  She bobbed on Max, watched up his belly now. Eyes closed, head back. She was doing it. She was really making him crazy. The symphony played in his ears, drowned out everything but the feel of her mouth. Wondered what in him made him enjoy seeing her do things with other men. She was a sexual juvenile, not one to judge. She did have her own fantasies. She couldn’t cast aspersions on her boy’s turn-ons. She had her own weirdness.

  He came and it was a surprise. He’d been holding back. It jumped out of him and hot splashes jetted against her palette. Deep, gagging her, sliding down her throat with no chance for her to stop it. She swallowed. Max thrust himself into her mouth and she pinched his base with an okay sign, braced him from hurting her. Swallowed every drop of him. When he was done and she’d squeezed him out, she let him fall onto his belly. She wiped at her mouth and sat on his lap. Lay on him. Lifted an ear of the headphones, said, “Can I talk to Cole now?”

  Maggie followed behind Max, sneaking through the halls of the house she grew up in. Just that was exciting. This was the kind of escapade she’d dreamed about when she was in high school. Boys in the house, maybe a party, intrigue and drama. Sex. Her heart was racing. They slipped along in their quiet socks.

  When she got to the archway of the guest room she stiffened. It was all fun and playful until now. She saw the filament of light around the square seam of the door. Not closed, but pushed as far as it would go without clicking shut. Cole was in there. Sitting in there. She had blown him. He had come in her mouth. They were good friends. The best of friends. She had tasted his semen. All her bravado slumped, burst and splashed on the floor. She couldn’t go in.

  “I can’t, Max,” she said, stopping in the hall six feet from the door.r />
  “He’s okay, Maggie.”

  “I know. I’m not. God.”

  How could she face him? What did he think of her? Was she a little slut? One of those skanks who would go home with him on a weekend. Get fucked and forgotten. She’d lowered herself to their status. Another dumb bitch to be fucked or forgotten. Or worse. Laughed at. He’d laughed at girls before. Laughed that they’d even try to get with him. Was that who she was? Some horny girl who he wouldn’t even dream of having sex with but because they were friends he didn’t want to make her feel bad and push her away. Did he let her suck his cock because he didn’t want to hurt her feelings by rejecting it? Was she being laughed at?

  “Stay here,” Max said.

  She stood in the hall, hands clasped at her front. Cold suddenly even though the house was warm. Tight sweatpants and a T-shirt, warm socks, but she shivered. What would she say? She didn’t think she could look him in the eye. She had to go. Had to get out of here. Right now Max was telling him she was in the hall. Hey, go easy on her. The two of them orchestrating some network of sympathy for her. Fuck.

  She turned, saw her shadow grow large ahead of her. The door had opened behind her. She didn’t turn back, stepped away. Grabbed again from behind. Cole this time. He was gentle. Held her, stopped her from leaving. But it felt like a hug.

  “Come back, Maggie,” he whispered.

  He let her go. She turned, head down, eyes on the floor, and she walked below him with her arms folded around herself. Walked in the bedroom and saw Max sitting at the foot of his bed. His eyes were on her, following her as she entered. Cole closed the door behind her but he didn’t say anything. No one said a thing, and she wanted to yell or something, she felt like she might burst. Cole edged around her, moving near the wall on her left side. She could see his reflection in the window out to the bay. He leaned on the wall, he was looking at her.

  Max cleared his throat and she looked to him hoping he would say something.

  Cole spoke. Said, “So, that was crazy.”

  Her eyes moved to him, her head following. She smiled, scrunched her nose up, getting an image of what she had done.