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Cherie appears at our new place one afternoon out of the blue. Even though it’s been gloomy and overcast all day she’s wearing giant sunglasses that obscure half her face. I pull out my phone to type.
He’s not home.
“That’s okay.”
Cherie squeezes past me, dragging a shiny black rolling suitcase behind her. It looks like she might stay a while.
“Which one is Serge’s room?”
I point.
“Thanks.” And with that, she walks into the room with her suitcase and shuts the door.
Kimiko : Cherie just moved in
Frenchie: ???
Frenchie: I’ll be home in 15
Cherie has moved in. It’s temporary—or that’s the plan anyway, until things quiet down with Little Nina. I point out that if Little Nina is still after her, this would be the first place she would look.
We all know it’s a terrible idea. And I’m not exactly thrilled by the prospect of sharing our already small New York City apartment with another person. This person in particular. Our whole situation is…complicated.
I think underneath all that eyeliner and tough girl veneer, Cherie is probably scared and doesn’t want to be alone right now. I wouldn’t want to be alone either. I also don’t know if she has anywhere else to go. So I said okay.
She slinks out of Frenchie’s room wearing a T-shirt and nothing else. There was never any question of where she would sleep. We do have a couch, but Frenchie would never ask her to sleep on it. I know he still has sex with her. I mean, I don’t know for sure. The nights that he doesn’t sleep at home, I assume he’s with her, or he’s found another person’s bed to spend the night.
“Morning, kitten. Is there any coffee left?”
I point to the French press.
“Oh great.” She pours herself a mug and sits down next to me at the table.
I’m pretty sure Cherie’s wearing Frenchie’s shirt. I try not to think about it, but I see the closed door and hear every bump, every murmur, every sound that comes from within and my mind goes places.
“Not a single mark on you. It’s like it never even happened.”
She traces a black lacquered fingernail tenderly along my cheekbone, where, just a few weeks earlier, there was a nasty three-inch gash, a souvenir from one of Little Nina’s goons. It hurt every time I moved my face or tried to smile.
Cherie’s really touchy feely. I’m not used to it. It takes some effort on my part to not instinctively shrink back or lash out at her. My family was loving but never very physically affectionate growing up. And then after, at the camp, other people usually meant danger. Nothing good ever came from other people, especially men. Frenchie’s allowed to be close to me now, but he’s the only one.
She turns her cheek to me, showing the faint lines, almost invisible under a layer of expertly applied cover up.
“I never thanked you.”
I try to wave her off, but she shakes her head.
Unexpectedly, she leans in and wraps her arms around me. I’m stiff at first, unsure what to do, but eventually I relax.
When she releases me, her eyes are a little damp. I don’t know what to do with this version of Cherie. She’s being so nice, stroking my hair.
“You hate this, don’t you?” She laughs. “Not much of a hugger?”
I crack a little smile. I tap out a message on my phone and show it to her.
I thought you hated me
“I never hated you.”
I raise an eyebrow and she laughs.
“Okay. Maybe a little. Hate’s a strong word. You just… kind of blew up my life, you know?”
Yeah. I do know. Back when we were hiding out in that basement, I heard some things I wasn’t supposed to hear. I still wonder about their relationship, but I"ve never asked Frenchie about it.
“I don’t hate you. You’re good for him. He’s not getting into half as much bullshit as he used to since he met you.”
I don’t think this is true. In the short time that we’ve known each other, Frenchie’s been kidnapped twice and taken a few bullets. Our lives are chaos and blood and heartache. I can’t imagine it could have been much worse before me. But then again, based on the little I know about his past…maybe not?
“He even quit smoking.”
I roll my eyes and nod at the ashtray on the coffee table in front of us, full of cigarette butts.
That lasted 2 months
She smiles. “Yeah, but the point is he’s trying.” She lights a joint and takes a drag. “The Serge I knew would never... He was about whatever felt good in the moment. Another pill, another bump, another hit, another fuck. Pure hedonism. Pure nihilism. He’d never say no to sex in the past. Want some?”
I look at her, confused.
She waves the joint in front of me. I start to shake my head but surprising even myself, I change my mind and hold out my hand. Instead of passing the joint she takes a long drag. And then she turns that eerie gaze on me and leans in. She touches my cheek, running a finger to my mouth. And then she leans in, pressing her lips against my own. Her lips are soft. She breathes warm smoke in my mouth. I let it wash over me, sweet, sticky, and dense, feeling a slight burning in my lungs. Her tongue darts out to touch my own and I jump back in surprise.
Cherie laughs. “Skittish. I had to try, kitten. Was that your first time?”
I nod.
“Really? Serge never…?”
I shake my head, feeling my face get a few shades warmer just thinking about it. I"m not sure if she’s asking about weed or the other thing she just did.
Frenchie has offered me things. Pills, the occasional powder. Out of politeness, mostly, in the same way he’d offer me a bite of a particularly delicious sandwich. I don’t think they even register as drugs to him anymore. But I always say no because I don’t have a good history with people forcing foreign substances on me. And because I don’t want to encourage his addictions.
“You"re blushing, kitten.”
I don’t know what to say so I just take the joint from her.
“You ever thought about the two of you, together together?”
My flush goes deeper. I shake my head unconvincingly.
Images pop into my head, unbidden. The briefest kiss. Then Frenchie, naked, chained to a pole with a lock around his neck. His beautiful battered body, a map of all the pain, the hurt, all that he had survived. I feel disgusted with myself for conjuring this awful memory and feel worse still if I admit to myself how it makes me feel.
We’re just friends. He’s my family. He doesn’t see me like that.
“He’s my family too. And Jay. We were a family. Did he ever tell you about the three of us?”
I nod.
“I’m not blind. Whatever is happening between the two of you…it’s not platonic.”
I wonder how she can say that while she’s having sex with him every night probably. My eyes dart to his room, the unmade bed visible through the open door. She follows my gaze.
“Oh kitten. It’s not like that. We haven’t fucked in ages. He’s gone all shy on me. He even threatened to sleep on the couch the other night…”
She laughs again, but this time there’s a slightly bitter note. I don’t understand.
It doesn’t matter. We could never have a real relationship anyway.
“What do you mean? I’ve seen how he looks at you. And I’ve seen how you look at him.”
I tried to cross that line once and for a brief moment it was nearly perfect. Frenchie felt solid in my arms. Not something I could crush, like an overripe peach, if I accidentally pressed too hard. But then he ran off, almost immediately.
It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. To later lie and tell him that I didn’t see him that way. The way he nodded in agreement so quickly…It made it easier to go with the lie.
So what we have now, this…almost everything has to be enough.
I shake my head.
He doesn’t see me like that
She eyes me, gears turning.
“Do you trust me?”
I give her a look and she laughs.
“Fair. But I’m going to need you to trust me anyway. Just go with it. It’ll be fun. I promise.”
Frenchie pauses at the door, keys hovering near the lock. He can hear the unmistakable clink of glasses through the door. He smiles. Kimiko didn’t drink much, but on the rare occasions when she did she was adorable; flushed pink and all smiles. He guesses that their new roommate has something to do with it. Cherie had teased him about the giant bottle of Kirkland Signature whiskey but that had not stopped her from making a good dent in it in the last week or so. He made a mental note to restock. Kimiko would love that. She loved going to Costco.
Frenchie turns the key in the lock and pushes the door open. The two women are on the sofa, sitting far closer than he ever thought was possible. He’s never talked to Kimiko about Cherie, but he’d always had a sneaking suspicion that she only tolerated Cherie for his sake. And Cherie, well… she’d made her feelings known.
“Hey pumpkin.”
Cherie has her long legs draped on Kimiko’s lap, their heads leaned toward each other, looking almost conspiratorial. He’d resigned himself to the fact that the best he could ever hope for the two women in his life was grudging civility. Whatever this was made his chest fill with warmth.
“You started without me,” he says, grinning and shrugging off his jacket.
Kimiko turns to him, her face a lovely shade of pink and smiles. She pats at the spot on the couch next to her. Then points at the third glass on the coffee table.
Frenchie doesn’t need to be told twice. He squeezes in next to Kimiko and pours himself a drink. He doesn’t know what the catalyst was for this but he’ll take it.
“What are we celebrating?”
Kimiko and Cherie regard one another.
“Family?” Cherie smirks.
“Vraiment ?” Frenchie considers this and shrugs. “Okay. I will drink to found family. What time did you start? I need to catch up to you.”
“A while ago. We probably taste like whiskey, don’t we, kitten?”
Frenchie is used to this kind of flirty talk from Cherie, but Kimiko flushes bright red.
“Shall we find out?”
Frenchie nearly falls off the sofa when Cherie leans in to kiss Kimiko…and Kimiko does not immediately push her away. And then does the unthinkable…she kisses Cherie back. Frenchie doesn’t know what to do. He knows he should look away but he can’t take his eyes off of them. He is slack-jawed as the two women make out in front of him. After several long minutes, Cherie breaks away.
“Mmm… Do you want to see for yourself, pumpkin?”
Cherie tilts Kimiko’s chin toward Frenchie. She looks up at him through those big dark eyes. He knows he shouldn’t. But every fiber of his being is telling him to let go and do the thing he’s been fantasizing about for months now. Kimiko’s eyes flicker to his mouth and then back up again.
Frenchie can’t wait anymore. He cups Kimiko’s face in his hands and leans in and kisses her lips. She tastes sweet.
And then Kimiko is pulled away from him. Cherie whispers something in her ear and they drift to his bedroom. She looks over at him one last time before disappearing.
Holy fuck. Frenchie downs the contents of his glass and trails after them. He stops in doorway, watching the two women sitting on his bed, kissing. He’s already painfully hard, but then Cherie peels off Kimiko’s shirt and bra, and then she takes off her own tank top. He gapes at all the bare skin on display. He can’t believe this is happening. His jaw drops as Kimiko reaches out to touch Cherie’s tits, running her fingers along her piercings.
“Serge. Get on your fucking knees.” Cherie orders.
He swallows. This is a familiar scene for him and Cherie. A long time ago, in another life, she and him and a series of nameless strangers. But this time it’s different because it’s her.
“Oui, madame.”
He walks over to the bed and drops to his knees in front of the two women.
“Take off her clothes,” Cherie says, sweet as honey.
Frenchie looks up at Kimiko sitting on the edge of the bed. His eyes drift from her breasts to her face and back down again. Tentatively, he puts a hand on the fly of Kimiko’s jeans.
“Mon coeur?”
He waits for her reaction. She nods. Frenchie’s mouth is dry as he unbuttons her pants and drags down the zipper. He pulls her jeans off, until she is nearly naked save for a tiny scrap of black lace underwear.
Cherie looks right at Frenchie as she slides a hand under the elastic waistband of Kimiko’s panties.
Kimiko is shy at first, but her thighs fall open to give Cherie more access. It"s unbelievably hot watching her react—lips parted, heavy breathing, the fluttering eyelashes. Frenchie thinks he might come just from watching it’s so fucking hot.
“Oh kitten…how did you get so wet?”
All he can do is stare at Cherie’s fingers moving under the thin lace. Cherie stops, then holds out two fingers to him.
“Open.”
He sucks them into his mouth, licking her fingers clean.
“Good boy.”
Kimiko watches him through heavy lidded eyes.
“Has anyone ever eaten you out, baby?” Cherie asks.
Kimiko shakes her head.
Cherie spreads Kimiko’s legs open wider and pushes her panties to the side, revealing slick pink flesh.
“So pretty.”
Cherie bends down and flicks her tongue along Kimiko’s slit. Kimiko gasps. Then Cherie turns to Frenchie and smirks. He looks like he’s in pain. His erection visible through his pants.
“What do you want, Serge? Tell her.”
“Mon coeur… S’il te plait… Can I taste you?”
“Kitten, do you want Serge to lick your pussy? He loves licking pussy.”
Kimiko caresses the side of Frenchie’s face and he kisses her palm. He’s never wanted anyone more in his life.
“Go on. Lick her pussy.”
“Merci, madame.”
Frenchie doesn’t need to be told twice. He drags down her panties and places her legs on his shoulders and then he puts his mouth on her. He can feel two sets of hands—Cherie’s holding his face to Kimiko’s sweet cunt and Kimiko lightly tugging on his hair. It’s almost too much to finally have her panting and wriggling under him, tasting her wetness, his tongue inside her heat.
He slips a finger and then another inside her while he sucks on her clit and she lets out an audible moan. Fuck. He didn’t know she could do that.
“Good girl. Come on his mouth. He fucking loves it.”
Serge feels her get closer and closer until finally she shudders and comes. Cherie pulls his face away from Kimiko’s pussy so he can look at what he’s done. She looks more beautiful than he’s ever seen her, bare skin, her skin flushed, her legs spread wide for him.
Cherie pulls Serge back up to standing. She runs her hand along the length of his cock and squeezes. A little too rough.
“Show her how hard that made you.”
Kimiko has seen him naked before, of course, when Nina kidnapped them. But this is obviously different. Frenchie strips and she openly stares, her eyes running up and down the length of his body, her gaze resting on his erection.
“See, Kitten? What’d I tell you? Do you want to know what his cock feels like?” Cherie asks, stroking him.
Kimiko locks eyes with Frenchie. She seems a little shy but she doesn’t break eye contact as she nods.
“Serge, we’re going to take turns riding your cock. Do not come until you get both of us off.”
“Oui, madame.”
“Get on the bed.”
Frenchie obeys. Cherie straddles him, sliding her slick pussy along the length of his cock. Kimiko is sitting next to him. She watches in fascination as inch by inch, his cock disappears inside of Cherie.
“Fuck, Kitten. It feels so good.”
It’s absolute torture. Pure, exquisite torture. Cherie on his cock, the taste of Kimiko still on his lips, her naked body beside him. He doesn’t know where to look, between Cherie grinding on his dick and fuck…was Kimiko touching herself?
Frenchie reaches out to touch Cherie’s clit, and with his other hand, rubs Kimiko’s swollen pussy. Kimiko moans as she presses against the palm of his hand.
“Do you want to ride him, kitten?”
Kimiko nods. Cherie climbs off Frenchie. And then Kimiko straddles him. Cherie wraps her hand around Frenchie’s cock and positions it at Kimiko’s entrance. Kimiko’s mouth drops open as she slowly slides him inside her, getting used to his thickness.
And then she begins to move. It takes everything he has to not immediately come inside her.
“Does it feel good, baby?” Cherie purrs, massaging Kimiko’s tits as she rides Frenchie slowly. Kimiko’s moans are muffled as Cherie kisses her. Then Cherie moves up the bed, and sits on Frenchie’s face.
It’s impossible. He doesn’t know how he’s going to keep from blowing his load. It’s too much, the sensations, the taste, the sounds that the two women were making. It’s so much pleasure it’s crossed into pain. And then he hears Cherie say, “Serge. You can come now.” And he nearly blacks out as he comes inside Kimiko.
The next morning, Cherie wakes up curled up next to a naked Kimiko and Serge. They’d fucked a few more times before passing out in a messy tangle of limbs. In the light of the morning, Serge and Kimiko look almost angelic, sweet and gentle. Kimiko was spooning him, her leg draped protectively over him. He always loved being held like that.
Cherie slips out of the bed to take a shower. She feels like a slutty fairy godmother. She was a woman of many talents, but initiating threesomes was a particular skill that she excelled at.
When she emerges from the shower, Serge is in the kitchen. He kisses her on the cheek and slides a mug of strong black coffee to her.
”Bonjour.”
“You’re welcome,” she purrs.
“How long have you been planning that?”
“A while. I was getting bored of the sexual tension.”
He considers this and then nods, conceding.
“Is the kitten up yet?”
“Still sleeping.”
Cherie smirks.
“Want to see if she wants to play?”