Maggie, Book 1, Chapter 9

“Maggie, wait,” he called behind her. She heard him doing his pants up. She stopped at the mouth. Stood there watching the shadows of the tied umbrellas in the tables on the patio reach to her feet, pointing their blades at her.

Watch her?

She hugged herself, her legs, cold now, pressed to each other. Her hair danced around her as another light gust picked up.

“Maggie,” Max said as he caught up and threw his arms around her. “Maggie, I’m sorry, I...is that? ...I’m sorry, don't be mad.”

“I'm not mad, Max,” she said, her hands smoothing his forearms wrapped around her middle. “I’m not mad. It’s so dirty. So wrong.”

“It’s not. It is, but I think...it would be good.”

“Say it again. Say what you want.”

“I want...to watch you have sex with that guy.”

Her legs trembled. Literally could feel her knees knocking together. She twisted her mouth around, exhaled, the smell of her pussy and Max’s semen at the back of her throat now. Have sex with Jay? For real? What would that be like?

The doors of Altieri's burst open on their right, a ribald group of Farmingham students spilling out onto the sidewalk. They laughed and yelled, one jumped up and swatted at a branch, bringing a cascade of leaves down behind them as they strutted down Main.

“I’m not ready to do that, Max.”

“You don't think its so crazy, though?”

“It’s crazy. I don’t know.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Nothing, Max. Not really. I’ve thought about it ... You mean all the way?”

“All the way.”

“But, we’re—”

“Did you want something else? You want to...go down on him?”

“Max...don't be gross. Ew, I can’t even picture that...it’s so wrong.”

“What then?”

“Touch him.” She said it so quiet she was worried she'd have to repeat it.

“You want to touch him?”

“Maybe. Can he touch me?”

She could feel him slump against her, like he’d pictured it and the reality hit him.

“See?” she said, “Picture that, Max. It's crazy.”

“Do you want him to touch you?” His voice a tense whisper in her ear.

“Maybe.”

“You think about that?”

“I don’t know, Max.”

“Tell me. This could be amazing for us.”

She turned quickly in his arms, her hands stroked his cheeks and she looked in his eyes. “Max, it could hurt us.”

“Why?” he said, seeming cross now. “Is he that hot? He’ll steal you away? Don’t you-”

“That’s exactly it, Max—listen to you, to your voice. Hear the jealousy? I didn't even do anything and there’s already problems.”

“No, Maggie, no...”

“Do you...this arouses you?”

He stared at her for a beat, his lips moving around as he built up the nerve. She knew the answer.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Wow,” she said. Shocked. Literally shocked.

“It’s not about me, is it? It’s about you...”

“No, Maggie. It can be both,” he said, his eyes looking down, ashamed now of his own feelings.

She watched him, his sweet face, his plump lips, pouting when he wasn't smiling.

***

The words that came from him while he fucked her emerged unbidden from a strange place within him. Words with leathery wings, released from an ancient box of magick deep within. It was like he'd seen them erupt from him, flapping wildly. Dirty, filthy words. Then he was glad they were out. As dark as they were, they were the truth. When he was rid of their badness within him he felt an overwhelming—at least for a moment—abounding joy. He was delirious with the revelation. Saying those dirty thing to her, hearing her dirty words back.

He's too big. He’d destroy my pussy...

He’d about erupted inside her when those dirty words of hers tickled his ear.

When she ran from him, when she hiked her clothing up her sweet thighs and stomped down the alley in her flip-flops he was hit with how bizarre his words were. And with his erection fading, his lust subsiding, he grew closer and closer to a functioning human being. The thing he asked was awful. They were going to be married. They were good students. Came from good families. Decent people. Decent friends. Didn’t do drugs. They were not two people who should ever engage in something so lewd.

“Maggie, it could be for both of us.”

“It could,” she said, her voice rising, almost a question.

“It could,” he confirmed. He was losing his own grip on the idea. Seeing it for how ugly it was.

“How?” she asked, and his heart jumped.

“How? How would we do it?”

“How would you watch me?”

“I don’t know,” he lied. “We could...uh, get a hotel room and I could hide in there.”

“I want to...I mean, if I did it, it would be easiest in my room.”

“I could pretend to be your roommate. I could pretend to be Jessie. Hide under her covers.”

“That would be weird. Would he want to... You could hide in the closet.”

“Jessie’s closet?”

“Across from my bed.”

“Yeah...I guess,” he said, rubbing his chin like he was contemplating how that would work.

“Max, it’s crazy. I don’t even really want to...”

“You think about it...”

“Yeah...” she said, trailing off, looking away, somewhere down the dark alley behind him.

“Whatever you want, Maggie. What do you say?”

“I don’t know, Max.”

“I could hide and you could just do whatever you want. Show me what you want.”

“Show you?”

“Go as far as you want or as little. Or don’t. What’s his name?”

“Jay.”

“Is he nice?”

“Yeah, he is.” Stab in his heart.

“Is he clean?”

“I think so.”

“How’d you find him? He goes to State...”

“How’d you know? Do you know who—”

“His T-shirt.”

“Oh, right. He’s...he goes to State. He wrestles...I guess you know. He's on scholarship...but his father...his father is Professor Carmichael.”

“What?”

“Yeah...”

“Holy shit, Maggie.” Professor Carmichael was the school’s most prestigious member of faculty. An awarded professor of Philosophy; a black man, an intense and driven intellectual coming from Barbados. He was the jewel in Farmingham’s crown. “Professor Carmichael? Why does his son go to State?”

“Jay’s serious about wrestling. He worked really hard. He’s Division 1.”

Calling him Jay now like they were all friends. “What can he do with that? He could go here...go to Farmingham.”

“His passion is elsewhere, Max. I don’t know.”

“Okay. Wow, that is weird.” He let his arms come away from her, let her go, took her hand instead and they walked back along Main Street headed to the campus.

“Is that okay? Or is that weird?”

“I had Carmichael. You did, too.”

“I know. I’ve talked to him one-on-one a lot of times. He knows my name. There's more to it than just having sex with him.”

“Yeah. It’s fine, I guess. Yeah, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“It doesn’t?”

“No, just a little weird.”

“That's why Jay’s on campus. He comes to visit his dad. He grew up here in Farmingham. He stays at State but his home is here.”

“Yeah? How does he model for you?”

“How did I find him? His dad loves the Arts, you know...”

“Yeah...”

“Jay does too. He feels like he’s contributing. He has a passion for art despite being—”

“A jock?”

“Yeah. And I think he likes to show his body.”

“He probably does...”

“He's in good shape,” she said and it stabbed him again.

“Your drawings are really beautiful, Maggie,” he said and he squeezed her hand then swung them together between them.

“Thank you.”

“I really do see something in them. Something that’s not in the others. I meant that.”

“I guess...I guess it’s there.”

“Does he excite you?”

She looked away, but he could see the corner of her smile before her face was hidden by her hair.

“It’s okay, Maggie, honest.”

“Well, I mean...yeah. Look at him.”

“Do you...”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Do I what?”

“Like his...penis?”

“Max...I don’t want to talk about that.”

“It’s big.”

She didn't answer him, kept her eyes ahead on the sidewalk as they passed by the empty storefronts lit with solitary light that shone on their front window merchandise.

“Do you like how it’s big?”

“Max...” she rolled her eyes, huffed, her hand feeling a little sweaty in his grip. “Yeah. I like it.”

“What do you think when you draw it?”

“Max...”

“It’s not like when you draw other parts...what do you think?”

“I don’t know,” she giggled, looking down, her smile coming back. “It has an interesting shape. It’s really big, it has weight to it—makes it behave differently than other mens’.”

“Differently than mine?”

“I don’t draw yours.”

“No, but you’re familiar with it.”

“Yeah...” she laughed, “I’m pretty familiar. What? ... His is different than yours.”

“Better.”

“Bigger. I don’t know if it’s better...”

They were stuck on that, both of them went quiet and walked along the quiet street. She didn't know if it was better, but he’d told her she could find out. She didn't want to talk about Jay’s penis anymore and he didn't want to hear her talk about it anymore either.

It had, however, put some steel back between his legs. Listening to her talk about its shape, how it hung. For whatever awful reason, listening to his Maggie talk about it made him hard. It was crazy. He wanted her to sleep with another guy. Sleep with a guy with a big cock and muscles. He wanted to watch that. It made no sense. What would make sense was to stop her drawing relationship with Jay. Give her a warning. Tell her this was awful. Tell her to never do this again. Maybe even break off the engagement.

Instead they went back to his dorm room, hung his Don't Disturb sign on the knob for the benefit of roommate Steve and he unzipped his pants and brought out his aching cock. Showed his Maggie what all this talk had done to him. They made out and he rubbed it on her bare belly and she moaned and she touched him. They made love three more times and didn't mention Jay once. But when she left at midnight, she had a strange sort of smile and he wondered what would happen. He wanted to watch her. He wanted it so bad. He was sure she was intrigued. They had two days to decide before Jay came back to her room again and got undressed and showed Maggie all his wonderful gifts.