Tempting Maggie

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Tempting Maggie Page 6

by KT Morrison


  There was a crowd growing in the old brick building. Students and some locals as well, the sky outside getting darker now and people looking for dinner. They ate. Cole was charming and funny and Maggie watched him draw Max out of his shell, get him laughing again. She rubbed his back. He even smiled at her. Felt her hand on him and looked over his shoulder at her and showed those white teeth of his.

  But what got into him then? What had changed since mid-day when he showed up at her door and wanted to make love and hang out? Was it because she rebuffed him? Had plans? That wasn't abnormal. He was gone when she got off the phone and came back in the room. It was possible he’d seen her sketchbook. It was very possible. She'd wondered before but now it was coming into focus. He knew what her figure model looked like. Shoot, he probably knew he’d come to her room. Saw the foot of her bed in her drawing. He would be mad. If the roles were reversed she would be livid. Jay was no figure model. He was a fucking God.

  She suddenly felt the weight of what she'd done. She’d hurt Max with her drawings. That simple act had hurt her poor boy’s feelings. He didn't even know how much worse it was. God, if he knew what she’d done last week and now today he would hate her.

  “Hi-ii, table,” a besotted redhead from the table next to theirs leaned way back, her pretty hair tumbling over the curved crest rail of her chair. Her friends laughed—a mix of young boys and girls, Freshmen. She was addressing the table but she was eyeballing Cole. Cole knew, he smiled, gave her a confident look and it made the girl smirk. She tilted her head then, rolling it around and looking into Cole’s eyes sideways, drawing muffled laughter from her friends.

  She was very cute and Cole was interested. She had blonde highlights, freckles and brilliant green eyes. She knew she was pretty but she had a béguin for handsome Cole that made her pink lips suck into her mouth and her eyelashes flutter.

  “Are you Cole Cantarella?”

  “I am,” he said.

  “I thought so,” she sang.

  A pimply-faced boy with a bowl cut helped her finally, taking her arm and pulling her back to face their table. Her friends were embarrassed but they’d had drinks as well and they cackled and fell against each other.

  She watched them. Wondered what their experience at Farmingham was going to be like. What experiences did they have in High School? What did they think it would be like for them at College? Would they get all the experiences they were after? It didn’t seem that long ago that she was one of them. Sitting here in Altieri’s drunk on wine hoisted back at the dorm and eating too much pizza and barfing in the hedges outside Keegan. She was here only a few months before she had her loving Max to hold her hair for her, to put ice packs on her forehead the morning after she might have drank too much. She loved every minute with her Max but she never got a chance to lean back in a chair and flirt with a handsome Lacrosse player.

  “You okay?” Cole asked. She looked up suddenly and both of them were looking at her.

  “Me? Am I okay?”

  Max said something but the restaurant was so noisy now she couldn't hear him. She shook her head, her eyes staring.

  He said, “Are you all right, Maggie?”

  “Yeah,” she said.

  A loud cheer broke from the table next to them as a sixth for their party barged through the front doors. She stared down at the red gingham check of the tablecloth. Saw her empty plate with crumbs and crusts. Felt the wet weight of the beer she drank swirling in her tummy. Felt the enormity of her actions in her room today. She was going to barf. Right here. All over the table in front of them. Barf and then cry. She got a sudden image of semen leaping up at her out of the deep hole set in the plump head of Jay’s huge cock. It had smelled. In that moment she had smelled Jay’s semen.

  “I gotta go...excuse me,” she said and she bumped her way out from the table, stumbled through the crowd, got swallowed by it. Made her way down the glossy green-painted hall and into the ladies’.

  She held herself over the sink, looked in the mirror. It had subsided now—the terror gone...the panic. But it wasn't over.

  What had she done today?

  She’d have to tell Max. She couldn't keep a secret like this.

  She washed her face, rubbed cold water onto her hot skin, stared at her reflection again. She couldn’t tell him. He would leave her.

  When she opened the door, her sleeve pulled over her clean hand, got out of the bathroom, Max was standing in the hall waiting for her. He had a strange worried but desperate look in his eyes. Something wild was in him.

  Her lips trembled, she held his gaze. He looked at her with firmly set jaw. Then he stepped to her and he hugged her. His arms around her felt so good. He kissed her neck and she ran her hands through his hair, her nails scratching at his scalp. She tilted her chin to the pressed tin ceiling tiles, looked at the metal lampshade with its bright shining globe. It blotted her vision, turned it all to painful white.

  “Max,” she sighed into his ear. His hips pressed her and she felt his hardness. “Oh, Max,” she sighed, genuinely glad to feel his arousal. She slipped a hand down and grabbed him through his pants, his dick sticking straight up and out, pushing against his cotton.

  “Get a room, Max,” somebody laughed loudly at them as they passed, but neither of them even looked to see who it was. He held her head in his hands now, kissing her lips and sucking on her tongue.

  “Jessie’s home,” she said. “Your room?”

  He nodded, grunted as he pulled on her lips with his.

  They held hands, and he pulled his shirt out of his pants so it would hang down over his erection. They made it back to the table and Cole had his side turned and he was talking to the smiling redhead, one confident muscular arm over the back of his chair.

  “Cole,” she said, making him turn. “We gotta go...” She winked, Max squeezing her hand.

  Cole’s smile narrowed his eyes, and he said, “Catch you later,” or something, and Max was already pulling her to the front doors of the restaurant.

  It was cold outside and there was a group of townies waiting to get a table and they walked through their cigarette smoke. She went to the right and got yanked back, her leg kicking up and her flip flop almost coming off. Max pulled her to the left.

  “Where are you going?” she said, stumbling along behind him.

  It was colder out now with the sun gone, the purple sky of the fall night bringing a chill with it that made the skin of her arms and legs turn to gooseflesh.

  “Down here,” he said.

  Altieri’s was in a vintage red brick building and their neighbor was another brick building, a gift shop, painted puce with hunter trim. Between the two buildings was an alley wide enough for a car. It was dark down there but when Max pulled her into it she was excited.

  An ash tree in a planter at the edge of the street acted as a canopy, stretching across the mouth of the alley. Pale yellow leaves rustled on its branches in the breeze, some giving up for the season early and fluttering down to the ground. He led his Maggie down the alley.

  During dinner, while they ate and drank, the dirtiest of thoughts slithered through his head. The things he had witnessed today; other things, too. Things he should never want to see. Maggie pulling down Cole’s zipper, her little hands working the pull, his cock tumbling out and then putting his best friend’s penis inside her mouth...the way her eyes tracked the spurts of Jay’s semen...Maggie’s legs spread like a frog’s only she wasn’t masturbating she was watching Jay plunge that weapon into her hairy sex...spitting in Jay’s hand so he could stroke himself, making it seem like she was reluctant; even from the closet he knew she would.

  How well did Jay know her? Did he see through her, too? Was it fun for him? This cute girl engaged to be wed, knowing what she saw in him, knowing his appeal...did he enjoy trying her resolve, knowing he could turn her No into Yes? It must be a game to him. That excited him too. Another man dominating his Maggie. Bending her will, prying her open with his size, making her hea
rt pound with his beauty and his muscle.

  He had a steel bolt between his legs right now and his Maggie had a hot wet hole and she would be ready. He’d even like it if she thought of Jay.

  “Maggie,” he gasped, and he pushed her up against the brick wall in the dim dark. Light from the street played along her jaw and her nose, a wet white spot glimmered in her eye. He kissed her again, his hands clutched both her breasts through her shirt and she moaned excitement into his mouth. Her nipples pushed the fabric out and he could feel their hardness against his palm even through her flannel pockets. She lay her arms against the wall and thrust her chest to him, wanting to feel his rough hold.

  They were between two aluminum kitchen exhausts. Pale metal drums stuck out from the brick wall on either side of them, thin metal rattling loudly as fans pushed warm air around their shoulders, smelling like garlic and cheese.

  “Fuck me outside, Max...fuck me in this alley,” she whispered into his ear.

  He groaned and gripped her breasts tightly. She was turned on. Turned on by Max, but turned on by what she’d done today. That aroused him. What did she think about? What were his sweet Maggie’s dirtiest thoughts? She could be thinking of Jay right now. Max’s hands on her, her eyes rolled up, watching some movie play on a big screen in her brain...Jay’s hands on her, Jay’s mouth on her...Jay’s erection splitting his pants and digging into her tummy right now.

  That’s what he wanted her to be thinking about.

  His mouth still on hers he dipped at the knees, his hands going up and down her cold bare thighs, then cupping her bottom and hoisting her to his waist. She clung to him, arms around his neck and he shuffled to his right, found a set of four concrete steps that led to a wooden enclosure built onto the side of the brick restaurant. He lay his Maggie back on the concrete, setting her butt down on a step.

  She wasted no time, kissing him still, her hands worked his pants open, tugged them, her hand wrapped around his exposed cock and stroked him, balls still tucked in his boxers. Her hand slipped all over him, his eager cock pumping out clear lubrication.

  What did she think of it now, that thing in her hand? She’d seen one today that was a monster. Was there disappointment at his feel in her greasy grip? Did she think less of him now...now that she’d seen a real one?

  His hands dove between her legs and he fumbled with her shorts, tugging and wrenching. Excitement blasting through him and ruining his dexterity. Button undone and zip half pulled he pushed her to her side, making her grunt.

  “Yes, Max,” she gasped.

  She was on her knees now, her elbows on the concrete step two above. He ripped her shorts down. Panties went with them. Her bare ass and her hairy sex were completely exposed to him. He smelled her. She smelled aroused. His Maggie musk, strong and wet, rolling up from between her legs. His little slut got herself worked up today. This little pussy had sweated for another man. She’d got wet watching Jay. Fucked her own pussy with her fingers while she thought of a handsome black kid with a huge cock.

  “Oh, fuck,” he gasped, grabbing a handful of her wet flesh. Her pussy was soaking, his fingers played through her folds, made her groan like a cat as his bunched fingers smacked through her hot flower. Her pussy was begging for it. Wide and soft and receptive. Maggie wanted to get fucked. He grabbed a handful of her hair, held his cock in his other hand and he stroked himself inside her like a knife in butter. No resistance, tip to balls in one easy stroke that made her gasp, “Yes!”

  He clenched his eyes, thought how Jay would make her cry out more than that. Jay would make her scream. His cock would stretch that tight little thing she had. She would love every inch of Jay.

  He fucked her wildly. Pulled her hair, each thrust was as deep as he could go. He gave her every inch he had. Full bore strokes that pounded her like a machine. He had her grunting and crying, urging him, telling him she wanted more. He had no more. She’d need Jay. Jay had what she wanted. If she wanted more, she wanted Jay.

  “More, oh, Max,” she grunted. “Oh, you feel so...good.”

  “You want more?” he growled in her ear.

  “Ah...yes...fuck me...”

  “I know what you’ve been up to,” he said, his hand gripping her hair tight and pulling her ear close to his mouth. His words coming out unbeckoned, his scalp tingling hearing himself say it.

  “What?” she squeaked. Her pussy tightened on him.

  “I saw...”

  “No...Max, what? ...”

  She tried to turn from him but he pinned her. He thrust his cock deep and dropped his body weight onto her. Flattened her to the steps.

  “Max,” she cried.

  He fucked her still. Had her stuck on the concrete and still his hips pressed his cock into her wetness.

  “I saw your sketchbook,” he said.

  “Oh, no, oh, Max...”

  “Beautiful drawings, Maggie...”

  “Max, don’t...” she said, an anxious pitch to her plea.

  “I love you, Maggie...”

  “What?”

  “Don’t struggle,” he said, “Stop.” He held her, an arm went around her neck, his forearm pressed to her throat.

  “What are you doing?” she said fearfully, her hands gripping his arm.

  “I want you to think about him.”

  “Max, don’t...”

  “I want it, Maggie...”

  “No, she said.”

  His other hand slipped down her flat belly and tucked through her thick pubic hair. He kept his thrusts sliding through her, in and out, slow and steady now. His fingers found her button, swollen large and full, blossoming out of her hood and her folds.

  “I feel your clit, Maggie...”

  “Oh!”

  “Yeah, he turns you on...”

  “No, Max...”

  “Of course he does, I saw him,” he whispered, his cock stroking through her, his fingers pressing her clit against his grinding shaft.

  “Max, please...”

  “Maggie, you’re so fucking wet now, your pussy is running all over my balls, down my legs...”

  She squeaked in protest but her nails dug into his arm where she gripped him.

  His cock slid deep, he said, “Do you want to feel him inside you?”

  “No, Max, no.”

  “I know you do. Tell me...”

  “No...”

  “You don’t think about how he would feel, how his muscles move when he fucks you?”

  “Ah,” she gasped.

  “Tell me...Tell me Yes...”

  “Yes...”

  “You think about it?”

  “I do.”

  “Ah, fuck, Maggie, you’re so bad. You little slut...”

  She stiffened. “Get out of me.”

  He said, “What?”

  Her voice firm now, she said, “Get your cock out of me...”

  “Maggie...”

  “I mean it, stop...”

  He gripped her tighter, his arm around her neck shaking her. he growled, “Picture him, Maggie...”

  “No...”

  “This is his cock inside you, you want it...”

  “I...don’t...”

  “Picture him fucking you like I’m fucking you...hard, bent over concrete steps, fucking you with that horse cock...”

  “Mm...no, Max.” Her protest had softened to a quiet breathy sound.

  “Yes, Maggie... Feel his muscle against you...you want it...tell me you want it.”

  “No, Max,” she whimpered weakly.

  “Tell me you want him.”

  “I don’t, Max...don’t make me say it.”

  “Say it...say it for me...I want to hear it...”

  “No...”

  “Tell me you think about him.”

  “...I think...about him...ah...”

  “That’s it...tell me you imagine how he would feel.”

  “Oh...I think about how he would feel, Max.”

  “That’s it...Fuck, Maggie, you're so hot.”

>   “You're so hard, Maxy,” her breathy voice sliced from her.

  His thumb and forefinger gripped her clit, shook it and teased it, so slippery it wanted to squirt away from him. She cried out an animal sound, something high and all-girl and he worried someone would get the wrong idea watching them from the mouth of the alley. She sounded like she was out of control, gasping and gulping for breath and crying and squawking, thrusting her rump into him, eager for penetration. The arm across her throat pulled her, raised her up so they were both on their knees.

  He wanted to stop talking. He wanted to drop it and just pretend this was dirty talk. But she was eager now. Trusting him to admit it. This wasn’t dirty talk. They were being honest.

  He growled close to her ear, the curled ridge of her auricle tickling his nose, “How big do you think he is when he’s hard?”

  She moaned, “I don’t know.”

  “You've never seen him hard?”

  “...No...”

  “Do you want to?”

  “Yes-ss...”

  It soared his heart, the idea that this sweet little girl would want to do something so devious It seized him, made him hurt and love all at once. “Tell me...”

  “I want to see him hard.”

  “Dirtier, Maggie, dirtier...”

  “I want to see his big hard cock, Max...”

  “Oh, fuck, that’s it, Maggie...do you want to suck it?”

  She cried, “He’s too big...”

  “Would it hurt your little pussy?”

  “He’d destroy my pussy, Max.”

  “You want it anyway...”

  “I want him to destroy my pussy, Maxy...”

  “I want it, too...”

  “No, Max.”

  “I want you to fuck him...”

  Her neck struggled and turned against his arm, she said, “What?”

  “I want you to fuck him...I want to watch you fuck him...”

  “No...Max, wait—”

  “Don’t stop, Maggie...we’re close...I feel you’re so wet...”

  She let out a low sound, a mournful erotic note. Her nails scrabbled at his arm. “Tell me again.”

 

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