Recovering Maggie

by KT Morrison

He said, “Maybe in ten years. Way, way, way out of my price range.”

  Cole said, “We haven’t been to your vacation place yet.”

  That reminded Keely, and she blurted: “Maxy bought me a boat.”

  Maggie said, “Bought you a boat?”

  Max muttered, “I’ve been working while you two were fucking around at school for four years.”

  Keely said, “Well, us a boat, for the cottage, but he named it after me.”

  Cole said quickly, “The SS Firecrotch?”

  Keely’s features fell in a mimicry of shock and great offense. Her mouth formed an O, and she looked to Maggie for support, then back to Cole. With her fingers, she took the hem of her short little summer dress’s skirt and pulled it upward, parting her legs. She said, “You don’t see any flames here, do you?”

  Maggie leaned forward to see Keely wore no underwear. She stroked her hand up the inside of Keely’s thigh, and she let her legs fall open a little wider. The tips of her fingers stroked up Keely’s pretty labia, hot, not yet wet, but inviting just the same. Keely turned back to face her, eyes narrow and lusty from the things Maggie did between her legs. Max and Cole’s faces were frozen in stupor. Max swallowed dryly.

  She said to Keely, “You shaved your flames off for me?”

  Keely nodded, lips parted.

  Maggie parted her own lips and the two girls came together slowly and kissed, her taking Keely’s pouting pinks and running her tongue between them. Keely accepted it lovingly, moaning, her hand coming up and gently holding the side of Maggie’s face while her finger stroked a little slickness from her.

  Now she had everyone’s complete attention.

  Max’s pulse absolutely thundered. It had been a very long time since they’d all been together like this. More than eight months. Not since his mother died.

  In the cushioned armchair next to him, Cole adjusted his shorts, breaths as deep and steady as his own. On the couch, an arm’s length away, the love of his life kissed his fiancée with an open mouth. Maggie in her green pareo, the material parting in a V at the chest to reveal her perfect little breasts in their black bra and an engagement ring strung on a chain he’d given her a lifetime ago when he thought she could be his. It sparked a twinkling white star off its diamond.

  One gleaming leg crossed over the other, printed tropical skirt that fell to her knee, her graceful arm working her hand between his future wife’s legs. Keely’s long legs parted wider, letting Maggie work; her chest heaved with lusty breath and their two mouths made slow smacking sounds. They parted, looking at each other, Maggie’s smile serious, and her fingers still working her opening, making Keely giggle shyly now.

  Keely exhaled shakily, her hips working against Maggie’s touch, then she turned and caught him and Cole staring lustily. With her lips sucked in her mouth, she hummed light laughter and drew her skirt to cover what Maggie did. Maggie leaned close and whispered something in her ear, Keely nodding. Now she rose, standing above him, her eyes on Cole; Max saw her fingers searching for him and he held her hand, pulled it and kissed the back, her engagement ring poking him under the chin.

  Still standing, she bent to him, holding his hand, touching his face before kissing him. He took her kiss, sucked her lower lip, took her tongue, smelling Maggie and tasting her. With one more kiss on the top of his head, Keely went around the table now, eyes on Cole. Maggie’s eyes watched Keely’s bottom and long legs as she made her way to Cole, then darted up to meet Max’s as he watched her. She smiled.

  Cole leaned back in the armchair, chin turned up to watch her come to him. Keely bit her lower lip, put a leg on either side of Cole’s thighs then mounted him, walking her knees onto the cushion, her face turned down to Cole’s, her long ponytail swaying over her back. She caressed Cole’s face, running her thumbs over his brow, his cheekbones, jawline, pushing down then on his plump lower lip.

  Keely darted her face, wanting to tease, catching Cole’s lower lip between her teeth and pulling gently. Cole smiled wide, looking in her eyes, the widening breaking his lips from her clutch. Her nails stroked through his hair as his hands held her narrow waist.

  Keely said, “I heard you’ve been abstaining.”

  Cole chuckled. “Before the wedding,” he said.

  Keely’s hips began to sway, rubbing herself against Cole’s crotch, something surely hardening there.

  Cole said, “We made up for lost time this week.”

  Keely’s hips humped, driving and curling forward and backward. “I hope you’ve left something for me.” Then with a few more swivels of her hips, added: “It feels like you’re ready for more.”

  “Three months was a long time,” he said, smiling, eyes sparkling under his lashes. Now the hands that held her waist slipped over the curves of her round ass, lifting her soft cotton skirt, Keely leaning forward, exposing her anus and glistening petals to him and Maggie. Cole’s middle finger stroked her opening as they resumed their kissing. Maggie watched through narrowed eyes, directly across from them, sunk low in the couch with one leg still crossed over the other. She smiled, hand dropping to pat the couch seat where Keely had been sitting, inviting him to come and join her.

  Max came to her, rising, staying hunched, falling to the cushioned seat next to her, his legs clamped closed, his hands clutched together between them. She watched him a moment as he watched the girl he loved gyrate her sex against Cole. That familiar pinched tension in his face; excitement, lust, worry. She laughed and clutched his forearm; he faced her, cheeks reddening, chuckling quietly, eyebrows drawn up with anxiety, then returning to watch as her handsome husband eased his middle finger inside Keely and she made a high mewling sound.

  Keely’s arrival in their lives had been fortuitous. A consolation gift for Max. One of Cole’s young Farmingham hand-me-downs. Keely came from Dublin to attend Farmingham; transferred after her second year to Harvard, headed for law school. Three years younger than them but traveling in the same circles she and Cole did in Cambridge, they got to know her. She was fun, funny, sweet. Caring. One weekend Max visited they introduced her to him and thusly introduced Max to his independence. Keely was a big hit and the greatest and kindest thing they could do for their best friend who they both loved so much. It was Keely’s special spirit that saved Max and made her such a loving part of their group.

  Max’s wrist trembled under her fingers and she pulled his hand free from the vise of his thighs, wove her fingers through his and Max held her tight, eyes locked now on what her Cole did to his fiancée. Her husband had two fingers inside her now, glistening, and Keely’s thighs trembled. She pulled his shirt up, bearing his warm stomach, and one hand worked at undoing the button of his shorts. Max’s hand shook as much as Keely’s thighs and she closed his hand in both of hers, watching the side of his immobile face, seeing the lust he had, the tragic enjoyment he took watching Keely with Cole. The only way he could care is if he loved Keely and for that she was so grateful; he needed someone like Keely in his life.

  Max shifted in his seat; Cole’s zipper being drawn down made a distinct sound over the soft noises of rustling fabric, moans, and kissing. She turned to see Keely taking Cole’s cock out of the parted flaps of his fly. He was fully hard, throbbing; he liked Keely and he like to be watched.

  Keely sighed, whispered, “Oh, you’re so hard,” hand lightly stroking him.

  Cole’s hands cupped the pale globes of her bare ass, fingertips denting their softness, her skirt bundled at her waist. Keely looked over her shoulder, just her sly eyes visible, looking for her husband. “He’s gonna fuck me, Max,” she said.

  Max nodded to Keely, cheeks sunken, eyes staring.

  She gave his hand a squeeze, and he squeezed her back, eyes still on Cole and his fiancée. Keely’s hand clumsily held Cole’s girth, angling him so his covered glans rested in her bright pink stripe. Her own gaze became frozen on the garish point of contact; her husband and the girl she felt genuine love for.

  Keely’s hand let him go, h
is cock seated in her membranes. She sunk a little, his girth too much, and they both shifted. Keely grunted, and complained, rocked forward, held his cock again and wiggled her hips to work him inside her. She laughed at that difficulty, saying in a sing-song, “I forgot what a great big boy you are,” her accent coming on strong.

  Cole’s hand appeared to help, taking a hold of his base and pushing his hips upward. Keely’s fingertips teased his shaft as he slowly sunk inside her. She squeaked and squawked, made high noises of pain as she let her body sink down his shaft.

  “Oh, you’re so big,” Keely sighed as she took him.

  Max grunted next to her, his hand suddenly gripping her far too hard and pinching her fingers, sending bolts of pain shooting into her hand.

  “Ow, Max, Ow,” she laughed, slapping at his hand with the other.

  “Sorry,” he whispered, eyes glued on his Keely.

  She reached over and put her hand over his heart, running it in circles, making him smile (but not look away). He chuckled in his throat, brought his other hand free from where it was pinched and lay it over hers. She kissed his shoulder.

  “I love her, Max,” she whispered. “I love her for you—she’s so good …”

  “She is,” he said, “she’s so good for me. I love her.”

  Holding hands with the boy—now a man—she once thought she would marry, and who she loved so endlessly, she watched as Cole fucked Max’s fiancée.

  Keely was still adapting to Cole’s thickness, not kissing him, her face instead buried in his neck making muffled sounds of discomfort, though her hips worked to meet his thoughtfully slow thrusts. Cole’s hands caressed her back, coming down and pulling up on the skirt, easing the light cottony fabric up her pale body and over her head, having to pull it far to the side to get her long gingery ponytail free.

  Cole took the point of one of her swaying breasts in his mouth and Keely gasped, rearing up now, cradling it for him and feeding him the nipple. She’d grown accustomed to his size now, getting into it and breathing heavy, muscles of her back working as she hugged herself against Cole’s intrusion. Her pink ring gulped around her husband’s big beautiful cock, leaving it shining. When he withdrew, he pulled a thin layer of her membranes like a tight sleeve. The sound they made grew breathy; more gasping, more utterances of affirmation. Soon they were kissing, and Cole’s hands smoothed all over Keely’s back, down to her ass cheeks and pulling her wide, knowing Max and her were watching his cock go in and out of her.

  The two of them got themselves bouncing, the chair’s feet squeaking on the wood floor. Keely began her loud vocalizations. Cole called her a ‘screamer,’ and when she got going, she could become piercing. Even Max was known to make her wild; sometimes Maggie envied her exuberance—she really did get taken away, it wasn’t an act, and Keely once confided to her an embarrassment over it. Cole and Max, however, loved it.

  As it built between them, Keely’s gasps becoming shrieks and Cole trying to cover her mouth, she leaned to Max and asked, “She’s still on the pill?”

  “Yeah, of course,” he whispered, eyes still on the coupling.

  Keely collapsed onto Cole, holding both her hands over her mouth, shrieking into them, her face turned to the side toward Cole, Cole had her ass cheeks pulled up, driving his hips into her at triple time, knowing she was close. His big balls had worked out of the open shorts and they came up to slap and bounce against her wetly with each hard thrust. While Keely’s face lay on his chest, he tucked his chin down to watch her expression.

  Then she was coming—her thighs clamping against Cole’s hips, her body bucking and squirming, screaming out brightly.

  “Ow,” Maggie said again, laughing, shaking Max’s hand to stop him from breaking her fingers.

  On the chair, her husband held Max’s girl while she still writhed in orgasm, shaking and gasping, crying out and slowly slumping down Cole’s body.

  The muscles of her own stomach flexed, feeling a sympathetic erotic surge that brought sudden heat to her upper lip and also down below. Now she worked her hand out from Max’s and sat straighter. Keely slumped further down Cole’s lap, still breathing heavy. She looked over her shoulder again, eyeing both of them, cheeks flushed, eyes twinkling with mirth as she got on her knees on the floor. With her hands reached up and tucked in Cole’s waistband she worked the shorts down his legs while he lifted his hips for her, shrugging out of his T-shirt. His cock swayed side-to-side stiffly, still steely hard. Keely now walked her fingers up his thighs. Then her mouth was over him, Cole’s head falling back to rest on the chair, arms on the rests. Keely’s head bobbed, her ponytail swishing pendulously across her creamy back.

  She and Max watched Keely work for a while, her turning her shoulders so Max could get a look at what she did, one hand holding Cole’s scrotum, the other stroking just below her sucking mouth. The slurping sound of her mouth came to suction as she let it plop from her, hand stroking quickly, Cole’s balls bouncing, and Keely turned so they could both see, her eyes on Maggie. She said to her, “I could use some help here,” winking at her, nodding her head toward the cock in her hand.

  Cole came instantly alert, sitting straighter, fidgeting in the chair and fixing his excited eyes on hers, ecstatic to have two girls go down on him at the same time. She laughed hard, moving closer to the sofa’s edge, thinking of joining, appreciating the invitation, but she had to deal with something before the night went any further.

  Hands rubbing circles on her knees, she promised: “Later.”

  Keely frowned and pouted with comical petulance.

  Maggie said, “Could you two go in the bedroom—leave me and Max to talk?”

  Keely looked to Cole, and they both nodded at each other. “Yeah,” Cole said, sitting up and scooting forward. Max did the same next to her, scooting forward to sit on the edge of the couch seat. Cole rose to stand, proudly erect, his cock aimed upright, holding a hand to help Keely stand. His eyes traveled to Max, and he nodded with brow furrowed; an expression asking Max if he was all right. Max nodded affirmation.

  Then, everything cool, Cole was fun again, taking one of Keely’s breasts in each hand, stooping and kissing between them, Keely laughing, swaying her hips and running her fingers through his hair. With his hands on her hips now, he guided her to sit on the chair’s arm, Keely unsure of what he wanted but complying. He put his palms on the inside of her thighs and she spread wide for him. The head of his cock tapped down her soft tummy into her hot wet nest and he pushed it into her.

  She hissed, said, “Oh God, oh fuck,” as he sank inside her, turning to Maggie and snarling, “Fuck, he’s thick,” doing it for her fiancé’s sake. Now Cole guided her legs to close around his waist and he told her to hold onto him. With her arms around his neck, he stood with her clinging to him, Keely crying out as his cock fully seated inside her with her sinking body weight. Cole’s muscle stood out, the fanning blades of muscle in his thighs and calves, the bumps and knots of his back. She missed his long hair sometimes, but fuck he looked sexy and grown-up now.

  With Keely wrapped to him, standing sideways to them, now he fucked her, making Keely’s eyes go wide, making her gasp as she and Max watched his balls sway, his thick thing working in and out of her with slick wet sounds. Cole growled then and kissed her neck, making her shriek. He walked toward the bedroom, stopping to pin her against the wall and thrust in and out a few more times, Keely crying out and knocking a picture crooked with her elbow. Then Cole had her again, walking, passing through the doorway to the master bedroom, Keely looking to Max and making grabby hands at him, saying, “Hurry up, Maxy, don’t be long.”

  Max nodded, said, “Keep the door open, please.”

  As Cole and Keely disappeared into the dark, she heard Keely tell Cole, “Keep the door open.”

  From the dark, Cole said, “Yeah,” then shouted out to them, “Don’t be long.” The sound of their two bodies collapsing on the bed came next, some giggling; shortly thereafter, gasping and moaning.<
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  The ends of his fingers still tingled with the electricity of seeing Keely with Cole, his heart still thumped in his eardrums. The sounds coming from the bedroom now—the sheets rustling, his fiancée’s building cries—demanded him to come and witness … what he most wanted right now, however, was whatever Maggie needed. She was looking at him sideways, elbows on her knees, hands clasped together, head hung low, turned to face him, smiling nervously, her russet hair tumbling down in her lap.

  “What?” he asked, sensing something big she needed to broach, and the slightest slither of worry work through his insides.

  Keely gasped out from the bedroom.

  Maggie’s hands wrung together as she drew the moment out. The pareo had slipped down her arm and exposed the circular pools of pink new skin.

  He inched himself closer, wanting to ease whatever burden she looked to unload on him right now. Peering at the sun’s damage to her shoulders, he shook his head.

  “Is it bad?” she asked him.

  “Mm, it’s okay,” he said, looking it over. “Does it hurt?”

  “Itches,” she said.

  “You have any lotion?”

  She held his gaze and smiled. “Yeah,” she said then, bouncing her head in a happy nod, reaching down and opening her purse. She turned back and handed him a small plastic bottle of fancy cocoa butter. She shifted in her seat, pointing her back to him, untying the pareo and tossing it over the couch’s arm. Her back was bare, just the black strings of her bikini top crossing over it.

  Top flipped on the lotion, he squeezed a generous portion, stomach tightening at the proximity to touching her. As he lay his hand softly on her shoulder, he said, “You looked beautiful up there.”

  “Where?” she asked him, turning her head, eyes lowered to watch his hand sooth her shoulder.

  “The altar,” he said. “You are a beautiful bride.”

  “Thanks, Max,” she said, her voice quiet and delicate. “That was my second favorite dress,” she said, her eyes coming up to meet his. The point of her warm shoulder felt exquisite against his palm. With his index finger he pulled the black string over till it fell down her arm.