by KT Morrison
“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.
Chapter Eight
Shaggy
Wednesday, September, 20th
He'd invited his Maggie to have intercourse with a guy he knew nothing about. Launching her into this life-changing event without properly thinking it through. Jay was unknown to him. He could be anything. He could be good; could be bad. What if he was bad? What if he invited badness into their life?
He needed to do some digging.
After she’d gone back to her dorm room he lay awake. Sleep was impossible. Part of him was ripped to shreds that he’d admitted those things to her. Then more spiritual annihilation as he stared at the ceiling and tried to fathom how he'd brought himself to tell her he wanted it. Bad enough to think it. He had presented it to her. Sweet innocent Maggie—now though discovered to be not so sweet. Or at least not so innocent.
He at once regretted it and then not regretted it. Abhorred it and yet grew excited about it. She didn't say no. She also didn't say yes either. That meant that she might get naked with Jay and hold his cock. He wanted that. That was so exciting.
Then, though he’d fucked his sweet girl four times to completion, his cock rose up the bed sheet. Hard again. Steve came home, stumbling in, breathing heavy and stinking of beer. Bumbled to his bed and toppled face first onto it.
Max got up. He had a mission. He wanted to know more about the young gentleman his precious girl might jerk off, maybe suck, maybe even fuck. Like a curious father he wanted to know as much as he could about the boy who was dating his daughter.
Steve snored loudly and Max took up his laptop, covered it over his erection and padded out to the empty hall of Samuelson, down to the rec.
It was empty except for a sleeping blonde-haired kid sprawled across one of the couches, his elbows and knees jumbled in pointed angles. Max took a spot in the centre of the couch facing the TV. The spot he'd seen his Maggie horsing around with Cole. Another arousing blade plunged through his confused heart today.
Phosphorus blobs blurred his vision as he growled into his hands, fiercely rubbing his face and his eyes. Clamshell lid flipped, he fired up the laptop and blew up a browser. Tap-tap. Right there on the NCAA wrestling page. Front and center. A thickly built Jay Carmichael in a State unitard. Victorious. Referee holding his muscular forearm, creamy milk chocolate skin, Afro was black when this picture was taken. He wore a head guard with a chinstrap. His rugged cheekbones and handsome brow rendered him gorgeous despite it. Skin shimmering with sweat, his veins bulged like thick cables up his arms. Holy shit. Max explored his student profile.
Jay Carmichael was not a dumb jock. He’d garnered the NCAA scholarship, plus two academic scholarships. He was a National Merit Scholar and a member of the Cum Laude Society.
It lowered Max’s brow with a puzzled frown. Not what he expected to find. A little daunting, really. Smart as Max. Built and hung. Handsome, capable. He growl
ed. Still wanted it. In fact the twist in his heart right now made his breath come sluggish and desperate. Maggie deserved an afternoon with this guy.
He checked the Instagram and Twitter of übermensch Jay Carmichael. No excessive drinking and partying, no worrisome photos. No drunken peace signs with hazy-eyed coeds.
One questionable picture was posted. A meet in Massachusetts—seemed like an important rivalry—posted a picture of him in a singlet. The angle of the stadium lights lit up his bulge, threw a shadow on his leg. It showed he was really packing. But he hadn’t posted it, only retweeted it. That photo had 440 likes. Comments like Yum, Yes please, and various approving emojis.
Other than that there was nothing to cast aspersions on Jay. He seemed all right. Lots of positivity quotes and interesting articles on philosophy in his feed. Some references to his dad. His profile stated: This life is short, go on and get it. Maybe Jay was a good guy.
Ah, unless of course you considered the glaring incongruous behaviour—showing his cock to a young woman he knew was engaged to another man. Considered those perverted things he did with her. Asking her to jerk him off. Innocent Maggie. Encouraging her to watch him. Asking her to hold his balls while he came. Maybe Jay could pretend to be nice online but there had to be more. There was something dark in him.
In the morning he had Public Economics 440, then Monetary Policy. After lunch, a peanut butter sandwich he ate from a plastic baggie in the hall at Millbrook, he had European Economic Integration, and then Gov 335. Concentrating during those classes had proven difficult. He took notes, typed away on his laptop. Wasn’t even sure what had been written. Not sure he’d even comprehended what the lecture was about. He was vaguely aware, sure, some surface understanding. But the bulk of his cranial horsepower was wrenching torque on the libidinous discoveries over the last twenty-four hours.
Wished he could take it back. Wished he hadn’t revealed to Maggie how those things had turned him on. Wished though, that he hadn’t seen Maggie touch that Jay. Wished she hadn’t ever met Jay. Somehow he’d been so consumed by his lustful thinking the actual act of Maggie practically cheating on him disappeared in the shadows. Her act had shone a light on something else. Something that should have stayed hidden. But here it was now out in the open and his big mouth had whispered it right into the ear of the girl he loved while he fucked her from behind in an alley. Those feelings conjured up by what he witnessed hadn’t even had time to get sorted and he was acting on them. Wanting what they’d produced to be explored further. Wanted that anxious wild knot in his heart, in his belly, in his cock and balls—wanted it back. Wanted to experience it again. Wanted to know if that odd pleasure he got from the feeling could be made brighter, or slipperier, or whatever way he might describe it. Like something slick and wriggling, exciting, but deadly poisonous. Something his brain said to leave alone but something dark in him said, Tickle it a bit more—see what happens...
Maggie seemed to waver. She wasn’t as keen as he presumed she would be. Didn’t seem to be feigning, either. He didn’t think she was lying. Hidden in her room, he’d watched her face go red, from bashfulness and lust. Saw her eyes burn traces all over Jay’s muscles and manhood. She’d been convinced to hold his balls while he jerked off. His Maggie. His smart Maggie falling for something so dumb. My cock won’t go down, guess I’ll have to jerk off while you watch. This is cool, right? And she agreed. Smart Maggie. She wasn’t being tricked. She wanted it. She was curious. And yet when he gave her a green light—permitting something that should be forbidden—she did not jump on it. She was considerate. She wasn’t sure that’s what she wanted. Crazy. Yesterday he was mad at her for drawing him, looking at him, touching him. Now today he might be mad at her for not agreeing to fuck him. This was all about Max. All about Max’s feelings and desires. He tried to picture if Maggie asked to watch him fuck another girl. He guessed he would indeed feel weird. Deep down though he would be interested, but it would be weird to hear from someone he loved that they wanted that. Fuck. Did she think there was something wrong with him?
There wasn’t though. He loved her. It made sense that he wanted her happy. It also made sense that he would be aroused by seeing her with another man sexually because he would get to see her sexy and happy. There was jealousy, but that was part of the thrill. Fuck, maybe that was weird. He knew Cole had threesomes. Maybe four times now at Farmingham. Cole and two girls. That was not the same thing. Those girls were just looking for fun. Cole didn’t love them. Wasn’t in relationships with them. Just three people looking to get off. But maybe that’s what this was. Maybe they were just getting off. He was just getting off with the person he loved and some other guy. That was it. He just wanted Maggie to get off. He’d been inspired by what he’d seen of her response to Jay. That had inspired this feeling. He just wanted this to be fun. He’d get off. Get off in the closet by himself. But he would get off.
He headed across the Oren Glen, booking it to his dorm room. He was going to have a shower, try not to masturbate, then he’d run to his Maggie and they’d make love. Wherever. In an alley again if he had to. He’d convince her this was okay. Not weird. It was safe and it was fun. She was almost there, she just needed a gentle and caring nudge.
His phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket while he hustled the gravel path. The screen was lit up with his Maggie’s face. She was supposed to be in class until five o’clock.
“Hello?”
Maggie, tinny on the other end, said, “Max. Can you come here? ...it’s important.”
“Where are you?”
“In my room.”
“In your room, Maggie? I thought...” he looked at his watch, tried to remember what day it was. “Don’t you have class?”
“I skipped it. Can you come here? Please...it’s important.”
“Is everything okay?”
“I think so. Yeah, it is. I want to talk to you.”
“You sure you’re okay?” he said, coming to the center of the circle, a concrete hoop with a fountain sprouting up from a bounteous garden. He turned off the left intersection headed for Keegan instead of home. His shower would have to wait.
“I’m fine, Max. I’ve been thinking...”
Maggie answered her dorm room door conspiratorially. Not saying a word, letting him pass while she peered around him, then looking down the hall, closing it behind her and locking it.
“What is it, Maggie? What's going on?”
“Sit,” she said, guiding him to the bed. He sat on the edge, in the middle, and she crossed to sit up at the pillows where she sat when she would draw. “Nothing’s going on.”
“What’s so urgent? Please, you're killing me.”
“I want an honest opinion.”
“On what?”
“Max. If I do this thing tomorrow...”
His heart somersaulted and he sat straighter. “Yeah?”
“I’m not going to. But if I did...” she bit her lip painfully, making herself wince, the corners of her mouth coming up into a smile.
“What?” he laughed.
“Honest?”
“What the fuck is it, Maggie?” he laughed again.
“My...pubic hair.”
He laughed hard enough to shake the bed, fell on his side.
“Max, don’t laugh,” she said, slapping his arm. She was also laughing.
He said, “What about it?”
“You know? ...”
“What?”
“...Is it sexy?”
“Oh Maggie. It doesn't matter. You're sexy. You're natural. I like it—you know I like it.”
Her head rolled around on her neck a little, looking up around her room. “Will...will Jay like it?”
The thought of Jay having an opinion on her grooming hurt him. Reminded him Jay would see her...see between her legs. Touch it maybe. He got mad and hurt and aroused all at the same time. Just like that. Now he was horny.
“You want Jay to like what's between your legs?”
&nbs
p; “Of course, Max,” she said, holding his forearm. “That's okay. Of course I don't want to gross him out.”
“It’s hot.”
“Is it?”
“No, I mean asking me what you're asking is hot.”
She laughed, “Does that turn you on?”
He nodded. Aroused but embarrassed again. “Do you think it's weird? ...I’m weird?”
“No, I kind of think this is hot now, too.”
He breathed heavily a few breaths, watching her, their eyes staring into one another, smiles starting to creep up their cheeks. His cock was filling out in his briefs.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Maggie.”
“Should I shave?”
“Shave between your legs?”
“I think I should,” she screwed her face up, bit her lower lip.
His eyes worked around while he thought. No idea what Jay would like or not like. Preponderant choice would be that she should shave. He might like her when she was hairy. He wouldn't not like that she was shaved. Everybody shaved. It was the most assured choice.
“He won’t not like that you're shaved.”
“Right?”
“Aw, you're going to shave?”
“You’ll miss it?”
“You grow it back for me?”
“I will, Maxy,” she said, and she leaned over her crossed legs and she kissed his cheek. He turned and took her lips.
“You’ll think about it, then?”
“No promises, Max. This is crazy. ”
“It is.”
“It's kind of stupid,” she said, kissing his neck.
“I know. It’s so hot to me.”
“To me, too.”
“Did you think about Jay last night?”
Her eyes went wide, looking away, inhaling. She nodded.
“Did you touch yourself?”
Now she was mad. “Max. No,” she said, frowning.
“It’s okay if you did.”
She shook her head, saying no, and changing the subject at the same time. “Max?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you do it for me?”