Recovering Maggie

by KT Morrison

  Her expression was warm and caring, a glimmering dot of white reflected under her lashes, her sweet pouting mouth showing a gentle smile. He climbed over to her, got his hands on either side and kissed her mouth. She took his aching cock in one hand and gave it a few strokes, her legs opened wide around him, her knees up in his armpits. That hand let his hardness go, soft skin sweeping up his belly and chest, coming to rest over his shoulders while they still worked their mouths over one another. Pressure began where she lay her grip. His Maggie urging him lower. He broke their kiss and looked in her eyes, saw her love and care. Hands on his neck, now she guided his kisses low, and he worked on her throat, then her collar. Plucked at her nipples, kissed down her ribs and belly, his tongue swirled through the cup of her navel while his arms stretched over his head and he coddled her perfect breasts. He looked up her body.

  Cole sat at her side, watching him, his hand stroking at her cheek. He wanted to taste her so badly, but he felt an unexpected rising shame. They both showed him their love in their expressions but he was frozen. His hands drifted down her body, touching her hips, coming low and opening her thighs.

  “Please, Max,” she whispered. “I want it.”

  He glanced to Cole who smiled. He kissed her warm belly just above her mound. Cole’s hand cupped the back of his head, his thumb stroking at his scalp, urging his mouth lower. Maggie’s hand then too, scratching over the side of his face and cupping his ear.

  He heard her whisper, “Please, Max.”

  He kissed low, cupping mouthfuls of flesh above her sex, kissing and suckling, lower and lower until he took in her hot and sopping coppery tasting flesh. He slipped his tongue up and down the lines of her folds, felt her sex-flesh full and pumped and abused, and so ready for his touch. Her thighs closed around his ears and a tremble could be felt inside her tummy and in the muscles of her legs. She whined as he worked her sex, tonguing her slit, up and twirling over her hardened pink pearl, peeling its hooded cover and poking at its live wire surface.

  She bucked at his work, her hips thrusting up off the bed and colliding to meet him. He got her writhing. Her sex was flooded. Her own wetness rising anew and the remnants of what they’d already conjured from her; she seeped semen. His own, and Cole’s too, running almost freely from her aperture. His head was squeezed tighter, and she moaned and coughed above him, her two hands worked nails through his hair, tearing painfully at his scalp.

  “Fuck, Max, oh, fuck, Maxy, mm, I’m going to come, don’t stop, oh Maxy …”

  It drove him harder, despite the difficulty brought by his growing smile. He laughed and blurted against her sensitive flesh and it got her bucking again. Tongue then pushed inside her, the muscles of his lips pulling and tugging at her petals, she cried out, one brief loud shriek and he heard her hand slap to cover her own mouth, a sure sign that his Maggie was on the verge of losing control.

  He twisted and worked her and her thighs clamped him so hard all he could hear was the furious thudding of his own heartbeat and the ocean whoosh in his eardrums. Then he was twisting, Maggie turning on her side with him still imbedded in her sex, him rolling with her, trying not to laugh, doing it anyway, blowing raspberries on her vagina. When she let the grip go with her thighs, he heard her gasping and laughing.

  He sat up, wiping at his mouth and cheeks. Maggie lay on her side with her knees drawn up and her hands clutched between her legs like a man who just got kicked in the balls. She howled, only not from pain, but joyous breathy laughter, her eyes closed, burying her reddened face in the pillow. Her body writhed from the afterglow of the orgasm he just brought her. Cole laughed too, watching her and rubbing her shoulder.

  He bounced himself higher up the bed, coming behind to spoon her but kissing on her upper back as she still shook with laughter. He bit the back of her arm and she yelped, rolling around and throwing the arm over his head to hold him against her. He took a nipple in his mouth and she kissed his forehead.

  With a satisfied sigh, she said, “That was so fucking hot.”

  He reached up and kissed her lips and she put both arms around his neck.

  Above their heads, out the tall window, snow swirled, the squall thickening, blocking out the dimming blue light, and they lay that way, talking and joking until the room grew black.

  12

  Claim

  Sunday, November 5th

  Outside the window to the bathroom, the wind howled under the eaves. A sheet of metal rattled, beating out a tinny wobble as the wind pulled at where it was fastened, looking to tear it away. Cole parted the wooden louvres of the window shade, peering out into the night.

  “Coming down sideways,” he said in a low disinterested tone.

  They were safe in the house, safe together from just about anything the elements wanted to throw their way out here in the mountains. Safely sealed behind the massive hand hewn logs of this hulking lodge. Hot water roared from the down-turned copper faucet, filling the deep marble tub, steam rolling in hazy plumes.

  She sat on the cold polished stone of the tub’s edge, naked and a little sore between her legs, but a blatant driving horniness that still thrummed a low, deadly idle, looking for a little juice on its pedal. Max rubbed her shoulders, sitting behind her, equally naked, and for maybe the first time in the last few months she felt he was at ease. Her hand stroked up and down the inside of his thigh. It moved absently, working behind her while she admired Cole’s bare ass as he watched out the window.

  He was hunched over, his gaze lowered to measure the snowstorm’s ferocity, naked as they were and looking gorgeous. One hand scratched the other forearm idly, the muscles in his arm flexing, down his leg and calf too as his weight shifted. With a sigh, she leaned against her Max and his arms encircled her, his lips finding her neck and kissing. The soft steady sound of his contented breathing soothed her. Cole turned, ran his hair behind his ears and smiled at them, crossing the dimly lit bathroom, his genitals swinging.

  After the first time they’d made love, he’d gone downstairs and brought hot coals up in a metal bucket and she lay in bed and watched Max and him get a fire going in the bedroom’s stone hearth. Seeing her two boys being good together, working in conciliatory humor, God, maybe becoming best friends again, pleasing her depthlessly.

  She rolled her head around to Max and said, “What was that? I didn’t hear you …”

  Max, having said nothing, paused the thumbs he circled over the knots of her back, saying, “I didn’t—”

  Now she lay back, pushing herself to seal against him, her temple resting against his cheek, interrupting, saying to Cole, “Max says he wants me to suck your dick.”

  Cole laughed, set himself down next to her on the tub’s flat edge and rested a hand on her knee. “He does?”

  Max shook her back with his quiet laughter.

  She shrugged, and showed Cole an expression of ‘whatever,’ and said, “I guess if he wants …”

  Cole lifted a knee and dipped a leg into the hot tub, straddling the edge, reaching behind him to pull the copper lever and ceasing the rush of water. The room was quiet now, and she sat upright, her two hands planted on the marble as she leaned toward Cole. His penis and balls rested on the stone, dark reddish brown against the ashen marble striped with swoops of gray. She wanted to suck it. Wanted it in her mouth. Wanted it while it was still soft. Wanted it hard, too, of course, but right now that driving horniness wanted his warm soft flesh to fill her mouth.

  She asked Cole, “How’s the water?” As she ran a hand up his thigh now.

  He smirked, seeing her getting playful. “Hot.”

  Hands walking across the marble behind him, he leaned back, arching his back, the skin on his belly getting tighter and now she did see his abs. That beautiful big cock was presented to her like this, and he smiled with narrow eyes, knowing she wanted it.

  She crossed her leg over to straddle the edge as well, letting one leg dip into the tub, finding the water scorching. Max followed suit, getting hi
mself behind her, putting a foot in the tub then running his hands over her back.

  “You want me to suck his dick?” she said over her shoulder toward Max but returning Cole’s narrow gaze with one of her own.

  Arms around her, he squeezed her tummy, and cupped a breast. “Suck his dick, Maggie.”

  With an arm reaching up, she ran her hand over Max’s cheek and whispered, “Okay, I’ll do it. I want … I want him in my mouth while he’s big and soft.”

  Cole said, “You better hurry.”

  She could see his penis rolling inside its skin already, beginning to grow.

  Max released her, and she eased forward, lowering her face between his legs, the effort and the angle mashing her stretched sex against the cold of the stone and feeling quite soothing. She moiled her hips against it, making her sex kiss the marble.

  Now she ran a tongue up the topside of Cole’s penis, tucking a forefinger knuckle under the covered cock head and hoisting it up, wrapping her lips around it. It squirmed in her mouth, buckling, wanting to drop out and fall to the marble again, but she gripped it with the ring of her flexing lips, while her tongue traced over its shapes. Her thumb caressed over his testicles sitting on the stone, and it wasn’t long before the fun of having his big soft thing squishing in her mouth became replaced with the excitement of his growing turgidity. It thickened, it lengthened, and she wrapped her fingers around the base and her head bobbed up and down on him. He grew to full proportion, that flared cock head pressing out against the foreskin until her lips rolled it back, her tongue slathering the underside, feeling the cloven chin of his glans. Behind her, Max’s hands worked up and down her back.

  She wanted Cole to come in her mouth and was on the verge of suggesting she would slip into the water where the angle would be more comfortable for her neck when something hard poked her from behind. She tucked her chin down, looked between her legs, felt Max’s hardness running over her labia then saw the head of his cock poke through, bringing the squishing folds of her sex, then dragging them back. The feel of his hardness stroking against her but not poking up inside where she felt a little tender right now was exciting, and the sight of his cock head blipping in and out between her legs and the feel of Cole’s big penis in her hand had her heart racing again. This was what she craved, this was what she wanted. She could have it all.

  Max gripped her waist tight, pressing his body against her, the inside of his thighs closing against the inside of hers. While one of her hands gripped Cole’s thickness to steady his angle to the thrusting of her mouth, the other hand slipped between her legs, alternating touching at her own clit, then stroking over the top of Max’s cock head every time it thrust through.

  The point of Max’s chin dug into her upper back as the pleasure he took from this collapsed him over her. He dug his thing through and held it, and now she tickled the tip with feathery stroking from thumb and forefinger. Cole leaned farther back, his cock pointing straight at the wood strip ceiling, drawing her closer, and she rose, lifting off Max and raising up to stand over top of him, her mouth still bobbing, her hand stroking, her other one now coming up to play with his bouncing balls. Max stood as well, she could see his bare foot on the bathmat next to hers, his hands running over her body, his hard cock poking between her thighs.

  Max pulled her hair aside, moving to the left so he could watch her and she angled her shoulders so he could see. Eyes closed, Cole leaking semen now, she bobbed faster, sucking so hard her cheeks went hollow.

  Max said, “That’s it, Maggie, suck it …”

  It delivered a dirty punch to her belly, and she flexed her thighs, frowned and pinched her brow. The idea he watched and loved it was intensely arousing.

  She nodded, and hummed, uh-huh, for Max, and then Cole was thrusting his cock against the inside of her cheek, that huge glans pushing it out. Hot jets of his cum squittered into her mouth with great force, splashing and roiling and filling her maw to overflowing. Cole’s legs kicked and shook underneath her and he roared and writhed. She drank it all, swallowed and swallowed, keeping him in her mouth as he continued to pump weak streams.

  Max’s lusty breaths roared next to her as he continued to watch and she opened her eyes to see him slack-jawed, awed, and aroused. She smiled and let Cole’s cock fall from her mouth into her waiting hand where she squeezed and emitted another pearly strand that ran his shaft and she teased it with her tongue, her eyes on Max’s, drawing the line of semen up to his foreskin then scooping it into her mouth and swallowing.

  Her sweet boy groaned, and she laughed, said to him, “Stand up.”

  She sat, saw Cole stretched out over the tub ledge, his head up by the taps where the edge opened to a flat expanse of marble like a table top and his face was obscured by the fronds of a small potted plant.

  Max stood next to her, chest heaving, face held in an expression of horror though she knew it was just lusty excitement. He was practically panting.

  “Maggie …?”

  She withdrew her leg from the tub and turned to face him, splashing hot water all over the bathmat and the tile floor.

  “Can I …?”

  “What?”

  His cock stood strikingly erect, pointing up and out from his body.

  “Can I … come … on …”

  He couldn’t finish.

  She slipped off the marble and set her knees on the bathmat between his feet, took his cock in her hand and looked in his eyes as he stood over top of her. Her hand pumped him steadily, smiling and watching his reaction. His lower lip quivered, and he still fought to catch his breath.

  She nodded, continued.

  He groaned and squinted, body swaying with her tugging, his breath stopped and his face went red, he coughed, eyes wide, locked on hers, then she flinched at the first hot stream that flopped on her cheek and brow, closed her eyes and smiled.

  When his eyes fluttered open, it was well past dawn, and he saw only brilliant azure beyond the arrow-shaped window towering above him. He lay in the bed, on top of the covers, and it felt like he might be naked. His head was at the foot of the bed, his feet up toward the pillows, and beyond the headboard he saw the beautiful vista of Adirondacks, snow, and clear sky. There was a syncopated creak-creak that repeated; the sound of fixed wooden joints being tested, like a heavy baby bouncing in a wicker bassinet.

  The fire must have died down because he sensed the slightest chill and swept an arm around, seeking the edge of the blanket, finding it and curling it over to cover his bare body. He closed his eyes and breathed … behind his eyes now a placid void; his ataraxia. In the aftermath of this once terrible enterprise he felt now strangely equal.

  Feeling equal didn’t feel bad. It was liberating. For so long, he’d struggled with the complexities of this relationship because he wanted to possess Maggie. Own her. Deprive her from others and deprive deserving others from her. This morning all the hurt that had ached his back and jaw and curved his posture, twisted at his insides and truly threatened to tear his life apart … was all gone. He felt good. Warm, content, accepted, loved.

  Happy eyes fluttering open again, he looked high up the spire logs that held up the shellacked pine plank ceiling and smiled. He kicked his feet around, felt no bodies near him, rolled over onto his stomach, saw that he was the only occupant of the big warm bed. But picking his vision up to peer over the bed’s footboard he saw the source of the creaking.

  Sunlight filtered into the room, making it bright and setting a gleam on all the polished wood. On a sturdy pine log rocking chair, Maggie sat on Cole’s lap, the two of them completely naked and lit up. She faced Cole, his bare toes touching off the floor, her legs bestride his thighs, her little feet tucked against his knees. His thick cock was buried deep inside her and she rocked on him, her face hovering over his, their eyes pouring into one another. Cole humped against her rocking, and Maggie’s perfect, round but tiny rump jiggled and shook as she squirmed against his wide intrusion. Cole’s hands went up and down her ba
ck with loving care, cupping the top curves of her ass cheeks then smoothing up her sides and caressing her neck.

  The sight was insanely erotic, and he felt love for her; happiness for her.

  As the speed of their grinding increased, Maggie beginning a cute little bounce, he reached a hand under the blanket and gripped his throbbing morning wood. Hand moving up and down in time with her movements, it wasn’t long before his grip went slick with his own lubrication.

  They slowed again, Maggie sighing, looking to prolong her pleasure, rising and sinking on him, and they both chuckled then kissed.

  Maggie caught him watching then, glancing over her shoulder and finding him on his side, watching her yet again, his hand and cock bumping out the blanket as he stroked himself. She laughed and showed a comical expression of shock, then pretended to shyly hide her face away. But she looked back, running her hair away from her face, beaming, cheeks shining, biting her lower lip.

  “Naughty boy,” she mouthed silently, frowning and wagging a finger of admonishment.

  With a wink, he continued, showing her a devilish smirk and keeping her gaze.

  Still riding Cole, who hadn’t noticed yet, now she mouthed, “Show me.”

  He raised his eyebrows, mouthed, “Yeah?” but was already pulling the blanket away to reveal himself to her. Eyes narrowing lustily, her face fell in a gasp and she watched his hand, her bouncing on Cole growing eager again. She nodded to him in encouragement, and soon she and Cole had the chair squeaking madly, rocking back-and-forth.

  He lost her then, her attention returned to her lover, eyes squinted shut, mouth snarled, her mind away, focusing on pleasure and chasing yet another orgasm; a number he would estimate in the teens. He laughed as he stroked and watched her.

  The two of them grew frenzied, bucking against each other, Maggie’s chin tilted to the ceiling, her perfect little breasts bouncing up and down, Cole’s fingers squeezed into her ass cheeks. They groaned, Maggie squeaked excited gasps, and Cole grunted like an animal. They came together, clutching one another tightly, their bodies trembling, flushing red, seized together breathlessly.