Cherry Blossom Girls International

by Harmon Cooper

  “Veronique has a similar outfit,” the psychic shifter explained, “nothing that would stand out if you saw us in the crowd.”

  “And I have to wear the bolo tie?”

  Grace nodded at me. “It’s part of your disguise.” Her skin folded back, and she was suddenly in all black, similar to Dorian and Veronique.

  “You all look incognito, and I look like an asshole,” I told them.

  “I think you look cute,” Grace said, still with her Californian girl accent. “Like, totally country boy cute.”

  “Cowboy cute,” Dorian added as she adjusted her hat.

  “Maybe you’re right…” After my shirt was tucked in, I used the bathroom mirror to make sure the bolo tie was fastened just right. It wasn’t too bad, black leather with some sort of amethyst as its centerpiece.

  But I couldn’t help feeling like Burt Reynolds or some shit, which, come to think of it, was sort of badass.

  Looking at my face, I began to change into old man Gideon, adding a little hipster mustache this time just for shiggles. Once I was done, I stepped out of the bathroom to find three beautiful women waiting for me.

  What a life.

  And I couldn’t help but think how much better my last statement would have been had a manhunt not been underway, the Giddiest Gidster this side of Giddington falsely accused of attacking the US Capitol.

  But I could deal with that later; and Veronique was right, this was my fault.

  In other words: FML.

  Bolo tie secure and three hot bodies alongside me, we took the elevator to the lobby and from there to the mean streets of Richmond, Virginia.

  The city reminded me somewhat of Alexandria but with wider boulevards, taller buildings too. Quaint, but in a big city sort of way.

  After a quick stroll, the CBGs chose a seafood restaurant, which I was totally down with. It didn’t really matter what we ordered as we weren’t going to be paying for it anyway.

  And while this again went against the new mode of operation I was trying to instill in the group, it was something we would have to do for now.

  It was weird, really, walking the fine line between being an ostracized hero and a straight up criminal.

  But someone had to do it, and ultimately, what we were doing was for a good cause.

  I only wished that we could stop getting new enemies for a little while and just deal with the ones we already had: Angel and whoever was still with him; Damon Lord, the albino shifter and new enemies we had yet to encounter; the goddamn US government; Natalie Johansson and her team, including that big bastard Smiley; hell, the public at large.

  Enough with the foes.

  After a short wait at the seafood restaurant, we were seated, given menus, and Dorian immediately ordered a bottle of champagne. The waitress returned with the bottle and popped the top off, filling Dorian’s glass. Once all our glasses were full, she set what was left of the champagne in a bucket of ice, and took our order.

  “What better time than now to order the bacon-wrapped shrimp?” I asked, closing my menu and smiling at the waitress.

  “And your side?”

  “Mashed potatoes all the way. Make it extra mashed potatoes.”

  “Our mashed potatoes are a house specialty,” the waitress told me as she moved on to Grace, who ordered the surf and turf, promising to split some of the steak with me.

  Fuck yes.

  Dorian ordered the baked cod with the spinach and feta side salad, and Veronique ordered a cup of coffee, as usual.

  “Are you sure that’s all you would like?” the waitress asked the metal vampire.

  “I already ate,” she told the woman, baring her teeth.

  The waitress might not have been a telepath, but she definitely wasn’t dumb enough to stick around after seeing Veronique’s predatory grin.

  “So…” I started to say.

  “Cheers?” Dorian said, raising her glass to me.

  Even Veronique drank a glass, and then another. And as the food came we had another bottle, and then another.

  Two hours later and the four of us were schwasted and schtuffed.

  It wasn’t pretty either. We were loud, and it was hard to keep my morphed face intact. Luckily, Grace had cleared the room out with her telepathy, so there was no one to see us acting the fool.

  “I’m still hungry, Gideon,” Veronique said, drunk and caffeinated in the way she kept getting up, walking in circles with her arm swinging at her side and sitting back down, her hair in her face.

  “You can eat me,” Dorian said with a giggle. “That totally doesn’t sound right.”

  “It totally doesn’t,” Grace said, who had now shifted into Dorian’s form.

  Yes, two Dorians. I had to smile at that.

  Who could forget the time in Colorado…

  “Which Dorian do you prefer?” Grace as Dorian asked.

  “Yeah, Gideon, which Dorian?”

  “The one without any tattoos,” I said with a drunken smile.

  Grace lifted her hands and the tattoos faded away. “This is what Dorian would look like without tattoos. Look how pale her arms are. She needs the tattoos to add color to them.”

  Dorian burst out laughing. “It’s true, it’s true.”

  “Tattoos it is!” I said, toasting no one in particular. Eventually, Grace responded by clinking her glass against mine.

  “We should get drunk more often.” Veronique pointed across the table at me. She moved forward, practically crawling over the table as she pressed her finger onto my nose, draining a little bit of power.

  I felt the channels open up, indicating that I could take her power if I wanted to, but I didn’t.

  “Careful,” I told her, noticing the table wobble. “Now isn’t the time to play games.”

  “You love playing games!” she said.

  “But we have to get back to the hotel, and if you drain me, I can’t walk.”

  “Who cares, Dorian can teleport us there.”

  “I’ve never teleported somewhere drunk before,” Dorian said. “At least I don’t think I have. Maybe in Chicago?” She blew her dark bangs out of her eyes. “I was definitely drunk there.”

  “I wish I could have come to Chicago with you guys,” Grace said, still morphed into Dorian and using her voice. “That would have been so fun.”

  “It was fun,” I told her. “We should go on more vacations.”

  “We’re going to Japan!” Veronique shouted, and as she did all the metal on the table rose into the air, the metal merging together until the word ‘Japan’ appeared and fell to the table, all of us cracking up.

  “That was so cool,” I finally said. “You could be a magician.”

  Veronique snickered at my suggestion. “Yeah, after being a super killer, I’ll be a musician.”

  “No, magician,” I told her.

  “So I’ll be a cosplayer, and she’ll be a magician,” Grace said with amusement, her cheeks red.

  “Gideon, I don’t know any magic, and I don’t really know any music either.” Veronique hiccupped. “Sorry. This is embarrassing.”

  I snorted, some of the champagne coming out of my nose and stinging my nostrils.

  “Don’t make fun of me!” Veronique said, anger boiling behind her eyes.

  I lifted both palms in her direction to let her know that we were playing. “Chill, chill.”

  “Where’s the check?” Natalie Johansson asked.

  I nearly kicked out of my chair until I realized it was Grace, that she had morphed into the famous Hollywood star/our mortal enemy.

  “That’s messed up,” I started to tell her, my heart settling. “I would have attacked you.”

  “Please,” she said as she morphed back to her base form. “I would have stopped you long before you tried to do anything.”

  “You are so pretty,” Veronique said to Grace, immediately bringing her hand to her mouth.

  “Thanks, you are too.” Grace took Veronique’s form. “See how pretty you look?” she
asked in Veronique’s voice.

  “That’s so weird. I wonder what it would be like…” Veronique put her hand back over her mouth again.

  “That would be crazy,” Grace said, winking at her.

  “This is a terrible idea,” I told the group. “No, before you call me a Debbie Downer, I’m just saying, the government is after us and we’re sitting here in Richmond, Virginia, getting drunk when we should be… Running?”

  The CBGs laughed.

  “They will get us eventually, and we will get away or…” Dorian bit her lip.

  “No, that’s the last time that happens,” I said firmly, looking down at the ring on my finger that contained Fiona’s crystal. “And that wasn’t the government, that was something else, someone else.”

  The four of us were silent for a moment.

  The waitress returned with another bottle of champagne, and Grace turned her away.

  “Let’s go back to the hotel,” Dorian finally said. “And no more talk of what happened today or what happened a month ago. Let’s just focus on tonight, and get out some of our… demons?” She laughed. “Is that a good way to put it? Let’s get some of our demons out.”

  “All right, I’ll take it,” I said, lifting a finger in the air, the bags around my eyes drooping.

  “Gideon, your face,” Veronique said.

  “Sorry, it’s hard to keep this form when I’m drunk,” I told her, feeling my face morph back into my normal features. “Let’s just go…”

  Chapter Five: An Ode to the Number 4

  There had been a couple of three-ways between me and the original CBGs, but not as many as one would think. Sufficient to say, I didn’t need to read a Vice article any longer to know that a ménage à trois always had a few logistic issues, and now that I had some experience hosting them, I actually preferred a one-on-one session.

  Funny, that.

  But like anal sex, it wasn’t for everyone, and there was a lot of territory to explore when an additional person was added.

  And here we were, with not only one additional person, but an additional additional person.

  All this to say: I hadn’t really thought much about the number four when it came to sex, and when presented with this as an option, I really didn’t know where to begin.

  So Grace, arguably the freakiest of us all, took the lead, morphing into Veronique, and going to her, kissing her.

  They had never done something like that before, and I had a feeling it was more of a drunken thing, at least on V’s part. Eventually, they were full on making out, which must have been really weird for Veronique, but she was still going for it. So kudos to her.

  I briefly recalled her mentioning something at the restaurant that sounded like she would be interested in experiencing this, but I couldn’t say for certain.

  Regardless, I didn’t have much time to watch them before Dorian was taking off my sweet bolo tie, ripping my shirt open and kissing her way down my chest. She stopped just in front of my zipper, and drunkenly nudged it with her face.

  “I get the hint,” I told her as I unzipped my pants, pulling my trousers down, my proof of Gideonhood growing in my boxers and nearly sprouting out what I liked to call the porthole. “Yeesh…” I whispered as Dorian immediately took me in her mouth, even though I wasn’t fully erect yet.

  Her mouth was warm, a bit slimy, and it only took another few seconds for me to become fully erect, Dorian also finding a rhythm as I watched the Veroniques make out.

  This was definitely going to be one of those memories that I thought about from time to time, but we didn’t talk about after, especially once Grace helped Veronique out of her outfit, and started sucking on her little breasts, Dorian doing her fair share of sucking on yours truly.

  Watching them go at it while Dorian went at it forced me to clinch my asshole, on the verge of sounding the alarm right then and there.

  This got me wondering how porn stars handled these sort of scenarios.

  Of course, as soon as Dorian’s lips first met my cock, I had taken her power, replacing Grace’s telepathy with it. If I hadn’t done so, she would have blown my little guy to smithereens.

  And while I could heal, I didn’t think that was something I could come back from.

  Who knew? Maybe Father could heal that type of injury, but I couldn’t imagine going to him and asking for that.

  Please heal my dick, Father. Ha!

  Rather than dig too deep into how weird that conversation would be, I simply rested with my back against the wall, Dorian treating my member like a lollipop. She eventually stood and hiked her jeans and panties down, her little bubble butt now visible as she lifted her cheeks up and let me slide right in.

  It was a little awkward at first, the base of my penis running against the top of her jeans, but it was incredibly hot, both of us watching Veronique and Grace-as-Veronique suck titties. We got into our groove, Dorian forcing her weight back once she knew I could handle it.

  “Something else,” Veronique said as Grace started kissing her stomach. “Morph.”

  Grace’s hair turned white, a red outfit forming on her, red stripes on her cheeks.

  “Kitsune,” I whispered, instantly smiling.

  Dammit if Grace didn’t know how to push my buttons.

  Veronique seemed to approve, letting Grace kiss her waist and her thigh bones, stopping the shifter just before she reached her lady parts.

  “Gideon,” Veronique said with an exhale, pointing at me, her finger glowing red. I felt a tug in my chest, the drunken metal vampire draining a bit of my power.

  “I’m being summoned,” I told Dorian as we continued to bang it out.

  “Okay, okay, okay…” Dorian said as she let me move away. She sat on the couch and lifted her legs, touching herself as I made my way over to the bed. I stopped, realizing I should clean up before jumping in, and told Veronique to wait just a moment while I went and toweled off.

  “BRB,” I said, showing my Gen Z colors, rather than actually say the words.

  I practically kicked the bathroom door down even though I didn’t need to, and immediately doused my weenus with cold water. It was cold, but not cold enough for me to lose my erection.

  Once I was cleaned up, I returned to the bed and got in position over Veronique, Kitsune Grace now resting her white hair against Veronique’s waist and looking up at me. She helped guide me in, a mischievous look on her face as I started up.

  Veronique was already wet, so it didn’t take long to get moving a little bit faster, Grace still watching from close-up, curious even.

  She was moaning too, because of course Grace was moaning, and for a moment I remembered that all of them were somehow related, that this was a bit incestuous, but there was no turning back now…

  FUCK IT.

  I went with it, increasing my speed, Veronique with her head thrown back, Kitsune Grace with red stripes on her face waiting for me.

  And just a few minutes later, I let out an incredible sigh and finished in Grace’s mouth at her direction. I collapsed to the side, instantly feeling naked and alone until the post-orgasm left me.

  I looked over to Dorian to see that she was still fingering herself, licking her lips, her eyes partially shut. Veronique was next to me, breathing heavily, her eyes closed, and Grace, still in Kitsune cosplay, had already gone to the bathroom to wash up.

  The real world could wait.

  Tomorrow we would be back in Colorado and from there, the Land of the Rising Sun.

  But for now, we were primal. We were animals, all of us, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit this.

  Maybe that would be my new thing, to accept the situation and what it had become, to live entirely in the moment.

  All the judgment in the world wasn’t going to change what had just happened, and even if our little group lacked solid morality, it didn’t mean that we weren’t able to help people, that we weren’t the type to do good in this world.

  “Damn,” I finally said aloud. “Damn,
damn, damn.”

  What could I say other than that?

  The CBGs just liked to get our freak on from time to time.

  Chapter Six: Back to the Rockies

  Okay, so that was quite the detour.

  A much-needed detour? Not exactly. But it was nice, and I ended up sleeping in the same bed as Grace, while Dorian and Veronique shared the bed in the other room.

  Sexcapades weren’t exactly the reason I wanted to stay in the hotel, but it worked out in the end, and by the next morning, I was feeling ready to tackle our actual problems.

  And what a list!

  I looked at my phone, seeing I had an inbox filled with new messages.

  The omnibus of Mutants in the Making had been a hit, making it into the top ten on the Amazon store, and staying there for the last month.

  Seriously, the top ten.

  Ask any indie author what that means, and they will draw the money symbol for you, point at it, make the universal sign of rubbing their fingers together, and if they’re a millennial or onward, they will also do the “make it rain” gesture.

  So much dinero.

  And the audiobook was set to release soon too, which was also going to kill.

  Even if I wasn’t really taking any of the money, EBAYmazon was still depositing it in my account, which meant I had cash floating around somewhere.

  And truth be told, I hadn’t really thought about money in a while; I figured the government had probably frozen my bank accounts by now anyway. If they hadn’t, they would use it to potentially track me.

  So no money mo’ problems for me.

  I skimmed through most of the messages, two of them critiques of my work, one of the two telling me that my writing sucked, and he would never read another book by me.

  Cool, bro.

  What a strange world we lived in where a reader can quickly contact an author to tell them they suck and that he won’t read any more of the books.

  Sheesh.

  A blinking icon told me Luke was online, so I decided to hit him up over GoogleFace.