“Look at this,” I said to Emmy’s dad, pointing in a store window that we were walking past.
“Is that Émeraude? And her bandmates?” he asked, surprised to see the bobblehead doll set on display.
“Yes it is,” I said as we looked at the three little figures on a stage the shop employees had made. The elaborate arrangement was the centerpiece of the shop’s presentation, with a light show and everything, including a video screen mimicking the one the band used on tour.
Mr Lascaux looked at the figurines for a long moment, then announced that he had to buy them.
Of course the clerk in the store immediately realized who we must have been, her eyes wide as we laid the set of boxes on the counter for her to ring up. I’d be the first to admit that the two of us made a very, very distinctive pair, so I wasn’t surprised one bit.
“Are you-“ she began nervously. “Are you here for the concert?” she asked.
Mr Lascaux said yes, but I added, “Emmy will be here in London a lot more in the future. We just bought a flat over in South Bank.”
“I live in Southwark!” she blurted out, then covered her mouth, embarrassed.
“Are you a fan of Émeraude’s music?” Mr Lascaux asked gently.
“I have tickets to both nights,” the girl confirmed. “I’ve been waiting months for this week end! I’m going with my friends from Uni,” the girl said. “Six of us. Both nights.”
“Would you like to see the Downfall play at the Royal Albert Hall?” Emmy’s dad asked. “Can you get free Sunday night?”
“What do you mean?” the counter girl asked. By now, several other store employees had approached, curious as to what was going on.
“I had planned on giving these to some of my business associates,” Mr Lascaux replied, pulling a handful of tickets from an inner pocket of his coat. “But I suspect that you would enjoy the performance more than they would.” He counted out six tickets, laying them on the counter.
“All I require is that you promise me that you will go to the show, and not simply sell them. I will know, since these are in the balcony box I have reserved.”
“Are you-” she stammered, completely floored. “Are you sure?”
“Why not?” he asked. “My daughter loves her fans, and she would want to know that these tickets were put to good use.”
Staring at the six tickets lying there on the glass countertop, the girl gaped like a fish for a few moments before an older lady who had been watching said, “Take the tickets, Tabbie. I’ll find someone to cover your hours. This is an opportunity of a lifetime- don’t pass it up.”
Looking at the woman who was presumably her manager, Tabbie managed a thanks before gingerly taking the tickets from the counter and staring at them in her hand as if they were the most precious things she’d ever touched in her life.
Honestly, they might actually have been just that, at least by weight. Scalper prices for good seats at that show were going for well over a thousand pounds each, so it literally was a small fortune she held in her hands.
“Tabbie, right? Would you like me to get Emmy and the boys to sign some of these for you?” I asked, indicating the bobble headed dolls.
Tabbie’s manager broke in at that point, seeing an opportunity. “Do you think you could get the band to sign more than just a set for Tabbie? Could you ask them to come to the store here and sign the lot of them?”
“Let me see what I can do,” I said, taking out my phone and calling Stephanie. A few minutes later, I’d arranged for Tabbie to take the store’s entire stock of Downfall bobble heads to the hotel after the shop closed, where the band would sign them all. The manager got on the phone to a few of her colleagues at other local stores in the same chain for them to immediately bring what they had over to the Piccadilly store, which was pushing the agreement a bit, but we were talking a few dozen each at the most.
Laughing about the whole incident, Mr Lascaux hailed a cab as we walked towards the river. “The princess’ fame is more than I could ever have imagined,” he said. “For her fans to even recognize you and me…”
“Well, look at us,” I said. “The blackest man any of them have ever seen, walking with a blonde giant. We don’t really blend in to any crowd.”
“No, we certainly do not,” Emmy’s dad agreed as a London cab pulled up. He gave the cabby the name of my hotel as we settled into the seats for the ride. “Émeraude’s mother and I have noticed a difference in the way others have reacted to us since the princess’ rise to fame,” he mused. “I am coming to believe that your scheme for using her to introduce us to the world has been wildly successful.”
“I’m not going to tell you how to do things in your nation, but we require that our people show their faces. In North America at least, most day walkers react with curiosity rather than fear. Now that everybody has seen Emmy on TV or magazines or whatever, they immediately jump to the conclusion that the Night Children they see are like her,” I said.
“Perhaps it is time our people showed themselves as well,” he replied, lost in thought.
When Tabbie and another shop employee came to the hotel that night, the two girls were almost useless as far as actually getting the task done. They were so overwhelmed by meeting Emmy, Lee and Jackson that all they could do was stand around in the way. Stephanie took immediate charge of the situation and handed big markers to the three band members while she distributed the various dolls to have their boxes signed.
Under her direction the whole process only took about twenty minutes or so before the signed packages were back in the big cardboard boxes the two girls had brought. Tiny, Grant and I quickly loaded the boxes back in the van the girls had come in and they were sent on their way. After the obligatory round of selfies, the two girls left to return the now much more precious bobble head dolls to the shop.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
The task done, we all retired to our rooms for some sleep. The Downfall had their first night of two nights at the O2 Arena the next evening, so it was important to get good rest.
Of course that meant a relaxing bath for Emmy and Angela while I took a quick shower, since there wasn’t room for three in the hotel room’s tub.
In bed afterward, Emmy asked me how the bobble head doll thing had come about, so I told her the whole story and her dad’s reaction, and about the tickets he’d given to the girl that had brought the dolls to be signed.
“My father did that?” Emmy asked, amazed.
“Your dad and I are getting along really well these days,” I said. “And the more I get to know him, the more I get to see a different side of the guy.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, curious.
“He’s really starting to seem more like a normal guy. More approachable, less formal and intimidating,” I said. “Actually, I think we get along really well, and I think we understand each other pretty well, too.”
“I am very pleased by that,” Emmy said, kissing my shoulder.
“Emmy’s mom, too,” Angela said. “Somehow she seems less scary than when I first met her.”
“This is very good,” Emmy said. "Because we are all one big family now.”
“Ange,” I asked, kissing her hair. “Have you talked to your parents yet?”
“No,” she said, her voice suddenly small. “I want to wait until we get the results from the lab in Salt Lake City. Just…”
“Angie, baby,” Emmy said, reaching across my to stroke Angela’s face. “The test results will be fine. Do not worry so much.”
“But what if-” Angela started to object, but Emmy put her finger on Angela’s lips to quiet her.
“The doctor said everything looks good. Until we hear otherwise, that is what we will believe,” Emmy said. Leaning forward to kiss Angela’s face, she added, “It is certainly what I believe.”
I wrapped the two in my arms and held them close, kissing the tops of their heads in turn. “Our babies are perfect,” I said to Angela. “Don’t make me fight you on this.”
That got the laugh I was hoping for, both of them cuddling up closer next to me as the mood lightened.
“Fighting you seems like a terrible idea,” Angela said.
“I’ve seen what happens to people who fight Leah,” Emmy said. “She breaks them in half.”
“I will never forget those guys in Arizona,” Angela agreed. “It was like they ran into a bus. She flattened them so fast!”
“She is a beast,” Emmy said, slipping her hand up under my T shirt to feel my abs. Angela followed her example and next thing I knew the two of them had it up and off me, leaving my chest bare. On some sort of unspoken signal the two started kissing my belly and my chest, their hands roaming over my body.
I was getting so turned on it only took moments for me to rise to the occasion when Angela’s hand snaked its way down inside my boy shorts. Her fingers dipped into the moisture and spread it around, slipping and sliding in just the right way.
I hooked my leg over hers to give her better access, enjoying the feel of a finger finding its way inside, then easing out again. In, ever so slowly, then back out again, the sensation making me groan with pleasure.
Emmy sat up in bed and pulled off her camisole and panties, her velvety black skin very nearly invisible in the dim light filtering through the curtains. I reached over and cupped her butt cheek in my hand, curling my fingers around to stroke the back side of her vaj with the tips.
Needing no more prompting, Emmy threw a leg over me as she moved up the bed, straddling my face just the way we both liked it.
I took her hips in my hands and lowered her onto me, kissing the insides of her thighs as I brought her closer and closer to where we both wanted to be.
As I was doing this, I felt Angela tugging at my waistband, so I raised my own hips to allow her to yank my undies down.
The feeling of Angela plunging two, then three fingers inside me was intense, but not enough to distract me from my feast. I did my best to ignore the rising tide of sensation from between my own legs as I did what I knew would send Emmy into her own universe of pleasure, but once Angela added some clit work to the mix it became a lot harder to do.
Emmy tried to pull away as she always does when she gets close, but I held her hips and wouldn’t let her escape until she came, even though I was on the verge myself. When I felt Emmy’s body tense up, every muscle contracting, I let myself follow her over that crest. We fell together in a heap on that hotel bed, leaving only Angela sitting on her heels and looking at the two of us in satisfaction.
I marveled at how she had transformed from a pillow princess uncertain about the whole ‘girl love’ thing to an eager lover, ready to take charge when she wanted some hot sex. Angela had grown confident in her sexuality, and confident in her place in our family.
I reached up and took her hands, pulling her onto me for a kiss, which she returned with passion. It didn’t bother her a bit that I tasted like Emmy, again showing that she was solidly in the lady loving category.
I reached down and grabbed the hem of her Stanford T shirt (which I had long ago given up any hope of reclaiming), pulling it up and off her as she raised herself up a bit before dropping back down to kiss me some more.
Emmy had revived by this point, leaning in to shower kisses on Angela’s shoulder and back, her hand roaming up and down Angela’s thighs and butt.
Although I couldn’t exactly see what Emmy was doing , I definitely could see the effects it was having on Angela as she had to stop kissing me so she could breathe heavily, her head resting on my shoulder as she made sexy little noises. I slid my hands down Angela’s back to her hips, then even lower, cupping her firm butt in my hands. I hadn’t noticed when Angela’s panties had come off, but the smooth skin under my touch was nice and bare.
Angela’s breathing was growing increasingly ragged as Emmy played with her delicate bits, so I just held her and stroked her back, whispering how much I loved her.
When Angela peaked her body tensed up for a long, shuddering moment before she let herself fall back on top of me in satisfied exhaustion. I continued stroking her sweaty back, telling her in a soft voice that she was gorgeous and I was immeasurably proud that she had chosen to be with Emmy and me.
Emmy soon climbed on top of Angela, the weight of the two pinning me to the bed in the very best kind of way. Their combined weight felt good, and far from crushing me it made me feel strangely powerful, but I couldn’t really tell you why.
Emmy nuzzled Angela’s neck, burying her face in the long, dark hair, while I caressed the two in equal measure, their sticky skin a reminder of our passion. The three of us lay like that for a long time, our sweat drying in the slightly cool air of the hotel room.
After a while, Angela said in a soft voice, “I know I’ve said it before, but this… When people say they’re living their best life? They don’t have it as good as I do right now.”
"I feel just the same way,” I said. “There is no way I could even be any happier.”
I snuck out again for another morning run, leaving Angela and Emmy snuggled together in bed. It was dark and cold and lightly drizzling, but only just enough to make everything damp and to cast halos around the streetlamps. I ran through Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park again, this time continuing on past Buckingham Palace and to the Thames. At the turnaround point I was pretty sure I could see our new apartment building across the river and past the Eye, but I might have been wrong and been looking at some other high-rise. It wasn’t going to be too long before that tower would be a familiar landmark for me.
Thinking about what it was going to be like living in London as I retraced my steps back to the hotel, I figured I was going to have to eat a lot of kebabs and curry. No real hardship there. Six months per year with no need for legal residency, Angela had said, but as Emmy’s dad had pointed out, there were no doubt ways around that restriction.
I did my best to not wake either of the sleeping beauties when I snuck into the room after my run, but I did take a long moment to just stare at the two of them, their heads sharing the same pillow and their limbs entwined in sleep. The urge to throw off my clothes and climb in there and kiss every inch of their bodies was almost too strong to resist, but somehow I managed to be good and not disturb their sleep.
Life was good, I mused as I warmed up in the shower. Very, very good.