by KT Morrison
Maggie said, “I know, Jay, I—”
“We know, man. I’m not saying that,” Cole said, putting a hand out again, getting some distance between them. “What happened, happened. She knows it was a mistake. She wants it to be over now.”
“She does? Maggie...?”
Her shoulders slumped, and she looked up at Jay. Her handsome, accomplished Jay. He’d tempted her, shown her the things that could be hers and that she’d never had. Dangled that big carrot, and while he was exciting and intoxicating in many ways, she had enough control to resist. It was her Max who had guided her into his arms and into his pants. She bit her lip, afraid to speak.
Cole urged Jay, “C’mon, man, just go.”
Jay said, “She can make her own decisions.”
“No, she can’t. You’re taking advantage of her.”
“I’m what?”
“She’s young and impressionable, and you’re manipulating her for sex.”
Jay laughed, folded his arms. “What’s her fiancé doing? She’s so young and impressionable but she’s ready to marry? She’s too young to be married, and she knows it. I’m good for her. This guy she’s marrying, this fucking Max, he’s the one taking advantage of her.”
“Don’t say that, Jay,” she said.
He looked past Cole again, his expression open, compelling. “Is it true, Maggie? What he’s saying...? ...”
She nodded, tears welling up suddenly, wiped them away with her fingers while her mouth twisted up. She couldn’t look at him, but she said, “I don’t love you, Jay. I’m sorry. I just wanted to have sex, but I know I shouldn’t. I can’t anymore. I can’t see you anymore.”
“Maggie, don’t...”
“I have to do the right thing, Jay,” she cried. “For Max’s sake. For your sake. I care about you too, but...”
She got control of herself, inhaled, blinked, wiped her cheeks dry with the inside wrists of her sweater. She sniffed, cleared her throat. Looking him in the eye, she said, “What we did was wrong. It’s not going anywhere, okay? It was just sex. It’s over now.” Her lips pursed, and she held his gaze.
He didn’t show her anger. He showed her nothing. His expression blank and unreadable. He nodded twice, a short, slow movement, then he turned around and walked away. Didn’t say a thing, didn’t even look at Cole again. They watched him walk the path until he disappeared from sight.
A sadness ached through her but she didn’t cry. Didn’t show it in any way. She breathed deeply, in through her nose out through her mouth, her back straight, her hands crossed in her lap. Cole said nothing either, just sat right next to her, looking straight ahead, his hip touching hers. He looked to her after a long while of sitting and watching students pass. She smiled, and he smiled back but there was trouble in his eyes and she imagined he could read the same trouble in her eyes too.
Cole held her hand as they left the Glen. Walking across the intersection, heading off campus and passing under the sign for FarmFresh, he said, “You know I’m not seeing anyone. Not since that weekend at your house. I want to be exclusive with you. All right?”
“Exclusive with me?”
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
“You haven't been seeing other girls?”
“I told you my dick was on a break,” he laughed. “It wants to spend time focusing on you.”
“I can tell,” she laughed now too. “Me too. I want that.”
They cut through the back streets behind the village’s main thoroughfare. Cold and grey today but they were both dressed for it in sweaters and jackets. They didn't wear gloves and their palms were warm against each other while the backs of their hands stung with October cold.
“I didn't...you know I didn't want to sleep with Jay. Not really, at least.”
“I know. You told me.”
“Yeah, I was just curious.”
“I know. I'm not mad. You should have told me. I wasn't using condoms with you.”
“I’m sorry. I trusted Jay.”
“Maggie. First rule is to never trust a man. You can't trust them. Max, yes. Me, yes. But you've known me for years.”
“It was stupid.”
“Max didn't make him wear a condom?”
“I think he wanted me to take it bare.”
Cole grunted and squeezed her hand. She could see him shaking his head.
“Sorry,” she said.
They had passed between two houses, on a narrow pathway that led to the park where Max had proposed to her. They were cutting through a children's play set, the village tennis courts on their left side, closed up for the season, the nets packed away in some municipal building. He stopped her then, both of them coming to a halt in the wet sand of the playground. They were alone, the weather not favorable for swings, teeter-totters, monkey bars... Facing her, he stepped into her space, pushing her back until she pressed against the painted metal rails of an eight-foot-tall geodesic climbing dome. He looked in her eyes and she didn't shy away, stared back into his trembling blues and read his distress.
His hand still held hers and he said, “Don't let Max get control of you.”
“What do you mean?”
“He's making bad decisions for you, Maggie.”
“They're my decisions too, Cole,” she said, her back arcing as he leaned her on the dome.
“They're my decisions now.”
“Okay.”
He kissed the point of her chin, making a soft sucking noise with his lips. She tilted her head up to the sky, let him kiss her neck. A tingle went through her when his thighs pressed against hers. She slipped her free hand along his back, kissed his lips. It was soft and delicate, their pressing wet flesh making suction noises, their breaths coming heavy through their noses.
She said, “You're going to take control of me?”
“I am. I’m going to give you the things you're missing. We’ll do it my way.”
“What about Max? What about his control over me?”
Cole thought about it a moment, looking in her eyes, squeezing her hand, his other hand on her waist and tummy. “If you feel someone has control over you, there's no better way to get out from under them than to fuck another person.”
“That work for you?”
“Maybe.”
“Some girl got a hold of you...”
“I fucked her best friend or her sister.”
“And what if that someone, the one with all the control, is my father?”
“Fathers are the biggest cuckolds on the planet.”
“Ha ha, what? ...”
“Your dad...raised you, cared for you, turned you into this incredible woman standing in front of me. He spent hundreds of thousands turning you into this fucking beautiful genius. He made this perfect creature...”
One strong hand gripped her hip, his other tracing her hair from her face, smoothing it behind her ear.
She whispered, “Yeah? ...”
“And I slide my big dick up inside it...”
“Mm-hmm...” she hummed, her hand running up the outside of his thigh, in between his legs and running over the bulge in his denim. He was aroused, not erect, but hot and straining against the fabric.
He said, “Come inside it. Make it my own. I claim you.”
“You do that.”
“I can make you so happy, Maggie.”
“Cole...”
He smiled wide and mean, the smile making his eyes close to twinkling slits. “You know I can, Margaret.”
“I...I want to make you happy. Right now.” She pinched the flesh of his penis through his pants, running her finger and thumb up and down its shape and testing its growing firmness.
“Show me,” he whispered, coming close to her and his breath tickling her ear. His long hair fell forward and brushed her cheek. With both her hands hidden under the lapels of his peacoat she unzipped his jeans. No underwear, as she found was usual with Cole, and she reached in, his pubic hair tickling at her skin. Found his penis then, hot and gummy, semi
-erect, brought it out of his fly into the cold and stroked him. She said, “I want to suck your cock. Out in public where anyone might see us.”
He kissed her lips again, smiling against her as he did, his lips pulling tight, making her smile too, like it was infectious.
“Yeah?” she whispered, the excitement hardening him in her grip.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
Her back slipped down the dome, bumping from rail to rail until she was down on her heels, her rump resting on the backs of her legs, her knees shooting out on either side of his calves. Cole's thick cock sprouted from between the navy flaps of his coat. Proudly large, hard and ready, looking for some hot girl to suck it. She was that hot girl.
When she was in music camp, the year she was fifteen, there was a blonde-haired preppy girl, Tabby, who played the piano and had her clique of ice-faced preppy witches at her beck and call. Maggie had overheard her describing going down on her boyfriend (a drop dead gorgeous college boy, said preppy girl only seventeen at the time), and it was one of those moments that forever stuck with her. The girl had said it was in the park and Maggie had always pictured it much like this one. An empty playground, the one she'd played on at her private grade school in Rhode Island.
She posed for Cole the way she'd always imagined that pretty white girl had, ran her tongue on his tip, peeling back his foreskin and swathing that sensitive underpart of him that would make his eyes roll back. She circled thumb and forefinger on his shaft where it emerged from his fly amidst sprouts of his pubic hair. Even gripping it tightly so his veins would stand out, her grip wouldn't meet.
Max had told her she was good at oral sex, so had Cole. So had Jay. She gave Cole her finest treatment. Wanting him to appreciate her talent and hard work, wanting him under control, even if it were just for a few minutes. She had him shaking and jumping. She teased him with her tongue, sucked his glans, swirled around all the shapes. Tugged on his foreskin, then plunged deep. It was a crazy thought, but she wanted someone to interrupt them. She wanted to be spotted. She wanted recognition from strangers—or even better, students she recognized—as a sexual being. Not that really nice Asian girl who always had her homework done and played a cello quite well. She wanted her peers to know she had power.
When Cole began to leak a delightful surge of buttery excitement into her mouth, she smiled around his spit-slick cock, plunged him deep, ran her hands down his thighs then up the backs of his legs, coming up to grab handfuls of his perfect ass and squeeze. Then when he realized he was close and what she wanted his hips thrust and she encouraged him, her hands helping his movements. She wanted her face fucked. Wanted to gag on his fat tool. And the thought of the reality—and then pairing those dirty thoughts and dirty words with it—she soaked through her panties, the air cold against her damp cotton under her skirt. She gave up a hand, let if fall from Cole's ass and dip between her legs, press herself, work over the panties.
Cole gripped her hair, fucked her deep in her mouth and it was incredible. Her eyes squeezed shut tight, but they were rolling back in her sockets with wild pleasure. Her hand buzzed between her legs, finding her hood, peeling it so she pressed the pads of her fingers on the swollen cotton shroud of her clit.
Cole growled and choked when he came and his semen squirted from him with exciting force, splashing the back of her throat and urging the eggs she had for breakfast to come up for a visit, but she choked it back, gagged and swallowed, her face swelling up and turning red, and semen and spit flowing from either side of her stretched out mouth and probably staining her skirt. But she bobbed her head to meet her lover’s thrusts, getting him deep, that large glans bumping her esophagus, making her spew more bile. She coughed and spluttered around him as the semen continued to flow in urgent dashes. She drank him, all she could, losing only a little out the sides, but drinking his fluid and enjoying it. And as he flexed his cock, and it swelled up against her palette, and she felt the last of his satisfied oozing into her mouth, accompanied by a long ecstatic groan above her, she finally came too.
She cried out, but his cock let no sound escape and instead a bubble swelled from her nostril, burst, tickled her and made her shiver. She fell against his legs, his slippery cock squirting wetly past her lips and she gasped for breath, hugged his knees with one arm, her hand clamped firmly against her pussy between her thighs as she rode out a long-legged, shivering orgasm.
When she came out of it, gasping and heaving, she looked around, disappointed to find they were still alone. No one had discovered how bad they were—how bad and dirty she was.
Max checked his watch when he saw them coming. They were a little late, but he was glad to see them. He sat at a tall table in the front window, just under the apex of Altieri’s written in gold. Maggie and Cole walked the sidewalk together, and he noted with a jab in his belly that they held hands. Maggie’s face was happy, smiling, listening as Cole told her something. Then she laughed, hunching at the waist it was so funny.
Sure, he seized with jealousy at the sight of them like this but he deserved punishment. The game had got away from him. He’d stepped up to the plate and swung too big. Wrapped his arms right around himself and got hit in the face with his own bat. Didn’t knock himself out, thankfully, but he made a fool of himself, and the coach wasn’t likely to send him up to the plate again any time soon.
He was content to sit in the back seat for the last few days. They’d all been very busy, and while he deserved coldness from Maggie she didn’t deliver. There was a rift, but she hadn’t shown him less love. For that he was very grateful.
She and Cole hadn’t been together (that he heard), and due to scheduling, neither had they. They texted, talked on the phone, but hadn’t spent time one-on-one. She needed her space, and frankly, he needed some too. He’d done some bad things recently, and they’d been for him, not for her. It wasn’t lost on him that today would be the day she was to meet Jay but instead the three of them were getting together, spending the afternoon at Altieri’s and this evening? ...Who knew? He had hopes.
As they entered the vestibule together, he polished the beer he’d started, then topped his glass and poured one for each of them. He’d already ordered and the food would be here soon.
Maggie cocked her head with affection when she saw him, cooed, “Maxy,” and came to him. She put her arms around his neck and she hugged him.
A tremor passed through him feeling that contact with her. His arms circled her back, and he hugged her tight. She pulled back, looked in his eyes and he stared up into her ambers, a smile being drawn from him.
There was that rift. They were in love, but a divide had interrupted them, the earth rending between their feet. He reached across the chasm to her...
...Kissed her, his lips coming to hers and planting firmly. He breathed her in. Smelled something. Something not right. He knew what it was, but he pushed the thought away.
“Hey man,” Cole said, slapping his back. Now he hugged him too, Cole bending and putting his arms around him and holding him for a few heartbeats.
“Hey buddy,” Max whispered to him.
Cole took Maggie’s coat and held the stool out for her. She stepped up onto it, flicked her ponytail back and sat. Cole sat next to her, took his beer glass and held it up, said, “Cheers.”
Max laughed with relief, Maggie smiled; they all lifted their mugs and touched rims and swigged their beer.
“Pizza’s on its way, guys,” Max said.
Maggie said, “Good, I’m starving.”
“How you been, Maxy?” Cole asked.
“Good. Busy,” he said. Cole clasped his hand over Maggie’s while they talked and Maggie didn’t shy away. Max watched her delicate, manicured thumb run back and forth over Cole’s first knuckle. His stomach twisted with angst but his cock swelled with excitement. They would all get together tonight. He was sure of it. Excitement chased the fear away.
Maggie had a thing for Cole. That was all right. He noted how she’d woken him at T
he Poirot, stroked his leg and aroused him, how it was obviously a ploy to also make love with Cole. He wasn’t blind nor was he stupid. She primed Max, and that gave her license to wake Cole. He had respect and privilege as the fiancé and she honored it. They’d all had incredible sex that night. They would again. And each minute he spent with her he would work on patching their divide.
Eyes on their joined hands he extended his own, sliding it between his glass and the pitcher, palm up across the red-and-white vinyl gingham. Maggie watched it coming, smiled, took his thumb and gripped it, and he closed his hand around hers. There was a tremble in her.
She said, “Max, I want to spend some time with Cole.”
His insides flinched, but he held it together. He said, “Okay.”
“Is that okay?” she asked.
“Without me?”
“Well...I mean, yeah. Like, I want to be open.”
“An open relationship? With me and Cole?”
“Yeah.”
“Until the wedding?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“There’s going to be a wedding?” he said with purposeful petulance. It was easier to parody it out in the open than to try to hide it.
She looked pained, her eyes darted to Cole. “Yes, Max. There will be.”
He sighed, his eyes on hers, noticed they were unwavering. His mouth worked from side to side while he considered her. He said, “Okay.”
“And...I’m...I’m going to take the LSAT. I want to go to law school.”
“Law school?” he blurted.
She nodded.
He let her hand go, looked to the ceiling. When he was done shaking his head, he looked across at her. Nodding toward Cole, he said, “Is this his idea?”
Cole said, “Hey, Max, no...it’s not.”
“No, it’s not. It’s my idea, Max. I ran it past my parents last weekend. I’ve been concerned for a while.”
“That’s a big idea, Maggie. You ran it past your parents, past Cole, but not me?”
“I’m running it past you now.”
“Practically after the fact.”
