Several days later, Magda slipped into Charles' study during his free period. It wasn't the first time she'd done so, but in the six months they'd lived here, she'd never felt so anxious to interrupt him. Not even on the first day, when she'd been torn between her fear for Nina and her fear that Erik would want his old love more than he wanted her; not even a week or two later, when it finally occurred to her that no other child's parents lived here with them, that she and Erik were taking up a bedroom that could have been used for more students, whose parents could perhaps afford to pay tuition. This was something new.
Charles had been kind to her, the other times. It was kindness she saw again in his face now, when the door clicked shut behind her and he looked up from the stack of papers in front of him—
But he only looked up for a moment, and then back down again. He made a mark on the paper on the top—an essay of some kind, she saw, close enough now to see the large, childish handwriting—and then said, too casually, as if he did not think she would hear the sorrow beneath it after all these months of getting to know him, "If you've come to call it off, I understand completely."
"No," Magda said.
Charles looked back up at her now, startled. "...Really."
"I do not think I could do that to Erik. Besides, he thinks it was good."
"—Really."
"Of course, his standards, they are—if he comes, he thinks it is good. And if he does not, then he thinks it is his fault."
A small smile switched at the corner of Charles' mouth. "That sounds like Erik, all right." He laid his pen down and looked at her, the kind of searching look that made her wonder how deeply he was looking. "So, if you haven't come to call it off, then what?"
It had been bad, so bad. For the two of them to go to bed with Charles—that much had been Magda's idea. She had been so pleased with the idea at first, so proud of herself for getting Erik to agree, when he considered even the smallest suggestions for changes in bed with great suspicion. But once they had all three been naked together, the easiness that had been between them before had departed. Neither she nor Charles had seemed to know how to touch the other, and so they had focused on Erik only. Magda hadn't been able to dress quickly enough, once it was over; Charles, who usually navigated his chair with more grace than most people walked on their own two feet, had managed to slam into their bedroom door so hard on his way out that he'd left it dented.
At first, she had thought she would never do that again, no matter what Erik chose to do. Then, she had begun to think about why it had gone so badly, when it should have gone well.
This morning, she had sent Erik and Nina out on an errand. Nina had been delighted; she was her father's daughter in so many ways, always much happier with her outfits when Erik was the one who took her shopping. As for Erik, for all his complaining that he'd surely be recognized, even under his big hat and dark sunglasses, the awful mustache she let him keep only because she liked the way it felt against her skin—she knew him well enough to see how excited he truly was for a chance to get out of the house.
And now that the moment was here, she became nervous again. Much more so than she had been when she'd decided to talk Erik into it in the first place. More so than she had been since she had gone to him to say she was pregnant, she thought—and even then, she'd been fairly certain that he would be pleased.
Now, she had no idea how Charles would react, what he would want to do.
"Erik and I," she said, and wiped her hands on her skirt, "we know each other very well. You and Erik, you do also. But you and I—since Erik and I came here, you and I have become friends. But we do not know each other in the same way. We have not learned to be comfortable with each other, not yet. I think that is why it was so bad."
"Ah," Charles said. "You think we should get to know each other better."
"Yes. Before we decide there is nothing there—yes."
If Charles hadn't noticed that she'd locked the door before, he did now. "Here?"
"That is what I was thinking. What do you think?"
The look Charles gave her now was the same he had when she and Erik had told him about her idea in the first place, so that she knew what his answer would be before he said, "I would like that." His gaze stopped at her breasts for what would have been a moment too long had they been speaking about anything else. "I would like that very much."
She had thought she would undress now, if Charles agreed. Now that they were here, she decided, instead, to cross around his desk, and lean down, and kiss him.
It was awkward for the first few minutes. Not the way she had feared it would be, but simply because they had not done this before, and had not yet found the right positions. But Charles was a very skilled kisser, and Magda had come here early enough that they would have at least an hour, as much time as they could possibly need. In a mostly-wordless discussion, they soon learned that it would work best for Magda to be in his lap.
Once they were settled like that, it became closer to what Magda had hoped it would be without an audience. It became easy, the way she had thought it would be between them when she had first begun to fantasize about what it might be like to sleep with him. How heady it was, to be kissing someone new, and for it to be him! It wasn't long before they began to explore those other parts of each other, that had so embarrassed each of them before. She began to think that she should have undressed after all.
By the time the bell finally rang, signaling that Charles' next class was to begin in just five minutes, his shirt was open and her skirt was askew, his hand so far up her thigh that if he moved it even half an inch up...
"Um," Charles said, pulling back a little. His face was redder than she'd ever seen it, so that he looked almost drunk. "I should really—"
Magda reached for his hand pulled it where she wanted it, so he would feel how wet she was, and not be able to think of anything else until his classes were over for the day. "I think we should try again tonight," she said, and nipped his ear, having already learned how well he liked for his ears to be touched, having spent so many minutes experimenting with them. "I think it will go better this time."
"I think so, too." His hand stilled for a moment, and then he reached further up, and despite the limited space for him to move between her panties and her skin, slid a finger inside her easily. My afternoon classes are canceled for today. Please use your extra time wisely.
"I certainly will," he added, stroking her on the inside even as his thumb found her clit.
Even Erik noticed how much better it was, the next time.
The next time they intended to try it with all three of them together, Erik was running late, so that Magda was alone in their room by the time Charles knocked on the door and peered in.
"Erik is putting Nina to bed," Magda said. "He will be back soon. I hope."
He'd been supposed to be back ten minutes ago. She knew what was keeping him; they'd never allowed Nina's friends inside, but Charles had said he didn't mind—and, well, this was his house, and he was the one his staff complained to when they had to clean up the bird droppings Magda had not spotted and Nina had mysteriously failed to notice.
As another result of this policy, whenever it was time for Nina to go to bed and for her friends to go back outside where they lived, there was always a squirrel who was not done finished sleeping on her pillow, or a sparrow who needed more time to finish eating the seeds she had given him. Bedtime was a much longer ordeal than a song and a story, since they had come here.
"In the meantime, you should make yourself comfortable," Magda added, patting the mattress next to her.
The last time Charles had been in their bed, she hadn't noticed how fluid his movements were as he transferred himself over by the strength of his arms; now, the excitement she'd felt all day only grew as she watched him. There were a few butterflies in her stomach, but they seemed barely there compared to the wetness between her legs, the memory of his clever fingers inside her, less than two days ago.
Once he was settled, sitting up against the headboard, Charles looked at her, and she could see without being told that he was remembering, just as she was.
He put his hand up to his temple, then made a face. "He may be a while yet. It seems there are raccoons in my kitchen. They're being obstinate about leaving, apparently."
"Oh no," said Magda, although she was not entirely sure what sort of animal raccoons might be—she did not think they had them in Poland—and it was Charles' own fault anyway, for thinking that letting wild animals indoors would not ruin his house.
"Do you think we ought to go help him?"
"No," Magda said at once. "I am sure he can handle it. It is good for him. It takes his mind off other things."
"Oh? Like what?"
Like worrying that the authorities would be coming for him any day now, although Charles had checked and said no one knew they were here, that no one had ever come close to guessing that Henryk Gurzsky and Erik Lehnsherr were one and the same; like worrying that he would somehow contaminate their daughter with everything he thought was so terrible about himself. Erik had too much time on his hands, ever since they had come here. Handling problems that came up was a very good distraction, and also kept Magda from having to be the one to handle them.
She would have said some, most, or all of this, but the way Charles had asked, the way he was looking at her, made her think he wanted a different answer.
"Like what his wife and his lover might be doing together when he is not here with them," she said, and Charles smiled.
Kissing Charles was different, now that they had kissed before; kissing him in a bed made many things easier. Where in his office they had remained mostly clothed, now they were both eager not to be so, and undressed each other between eager kisses. Charles' shirt went, and Magda's, and her bra (those fingers of his were better at undoing the clasp than Erik had ever been—he always gave up and used his gift, instead), and then Charles' hands were where they had not quite been before, feeling and squeezing her bare breasts, stroking her nipples until they stood up. He lowered his head and took one and then the other into his mouth, sucking them so that Magda gasped and grew wetter and wetter.
Where was Erik? Magda wondered, and wondered, too, what Charles would feel like between her thighs, if he parted her lower lips with his tongue, if he sucked and licked her there, too—
Oh, yes. Charles was still sucking on her nipple, but it was his voice, breathless, all the same. Yes, that can be arranged.
But before they could get that far, Magda noticed something else: the bulge between Charles legs. He had not gotten hard the other times—had explained to Erik and she, in a stilted way that made it clear he had not explained this often enough to be as smooth about it as he was about everything else, that it was 'a bit of a crap shoot, really.'
Between something they could do at any time, and something they might not be able to do for the next while...
"I will fuck myself on you, instead," she said.
Charles didn't argue; when she got up from the bed to take off her skirt and underthings, he scooted out of his trousers and underwear, until he was completely naked, skinny pale legs stretched in front of him and stiff red manhood jutting up. Once, Magda had found it strange that Erik was circumcised; now, she found it strange that Charles was not.
A few minutes after she had straddled Charles' lap again, Magda heard the door click shut. She had not heard it open, and for a moment, she was almost afraid to look, to see what Erik thought of this—after all, she still had not told him about her visit to Charles' office, and they had not discussed what either of them could do with Charles when the other was not present. It had not, until now, occurred to her that this might be a problem.
It's not, said Charles, and along with that thought came something else: The two of them through Erik's eyes, the way he was lusting after them where a moment before he'd been so tired and grumpy that he'd meant to call tonight off.
Magda expected Erik to get in bed with them, so she was surprised, after she had lowered herself onto Charles and begun to move—had, in fact, been moving for long enough to be used to the feel of him inside her, for her climax to begin to build—to look back to see Erik still standing in front of the door. His eyes were dark, his face flushed; she could see his harsh breathing from here, if not hear him over herself and Charles; and there was a tent big enough to shelter three in the front of his trousers.
She had tormented Erik many times throughout their marriage, she'd made him beg more than once, but she'd never seen him look quite like this. She loved to tease him, but she'd never been able to stand making him wait so long.
She couldn't stand it now, either.
"Come here, Erik," she said. "We want you."
"That's right, we do," Charles said, and Magda waited until Erik had taken the first step forward until she looked back at Charles.
A few moments later, Erik joined them, crawling onto the bed. Magda had meant for him to get undressed, too, but when his arms went around her middle, his front pressing against her back, he was still fully clothed. He moved with her, his breath against her ear, his bulge rubbing against her lower back. His hand trailed lower, until he found her clit, and it was not long before Magda came, once, twice, three times, clenching around Charles. Then, she was too sensitive to go on, but Charles still had not come.
"It is your turn," she said to Erik, once she was sitting by Charles' side, Erik looking everywhere but down, at the sight of Charles covered in her fluids.
She half-expected Erik to argue. He had never so much as let her put a fingertip inside him before (even though he'd told her on the night they met that she would not like him because he was a mutant, and was also Erik Lehnsherr, and also had spent a year in the sixties being fucked by a man...and had enjoyed it). Instead of argument, he nodded, a jerky motion, and began to undress—a process that went twice as slowly with three sets of hands as with two, but Magda could not make herself get out of the way, and she would not ask Charles to, either.
She had imagined this before, and it was not as if she didn't know where everything went—still, it was a very strange sight, her husband lowering himself onto Charles as Magda had done before, then beginning to move, hiding that part of Charles inside his body, then revealing it again, over and over. For a minute, Magda could only watch, not sure what she thought about this, after all; then, Erik made a sound, a low, guttural grunt, and then another, and she looked at his face. He looked exactly the way he did when he was inside her, and it excited her in the way it always did.
She had to do something, she could not watch without touching for a moment longer, and so she wrapped her hand around him, and began to pull. After a moment, Charles joined her, his large pale hand and her smaller, darker one, coaxing Erik to cry out longer and louder, the way he always claimed he didn't when it was over with.
A few minutes later, Erik closed his eyes and bit his lip, sure signs he would come at once if he looked at anything that was happening, or if he allowed himself all pleasure and no pain. Maybe he would have gotten a few more minutes, except that this was when Charles came—and when Charles came, it washed over Erik and Magda, exactly the way it had in Charles' office the other day. Charles emptied himself inside Erik as Magda clenched around nothing as Erik jerked within their hands, splattering white across their fingers and Charles' bare chest.
The last time, Charles had left their room, quickly as he could. This time, he seemed very comfortable by the time he stretched and said, "I hope you're not planning to kick me out of bed."
"Never," Erik said, at the same time Magda said, "It is your house. You can sleep wherever you would like."
Erik had known her for ten years, and understood her perfectly; Charles had known her for less than six months, but took this exactly the way she had meant him to.
"Excellent," he said, yawning. He fidgeted around until he was lying on his side. There was room enough for Erik and Magda to lie down as well; the bed that had seemed ridiculously huge for two was just right for three.
When they were all under the covers and drifting off, Charles said, sleepily, "What happened with the raccoons, by the way? Magda and I were wondering."
"—You don't want to know," Erik said, which was how Magda knew the next day would be just as exciting, but not nearly so much fun.
Magda had not had so much sex so often ever in all her life. Even when Erik had first come to her, when she was starved for his touch and he was starved for any touch - even then, it had not been quite like this.
Every few nights, Charles came to their bed. On the nights he did not, she and Erik still made love, often with Charles inside their heads, watching and approving. (Sometimes, he commented too effusively, until Erik became embarrassed and could not finish.)
She and Erik had not made love so often in Poland; Erik's long hours had meant they were lucky to manage it once or twice a week. Ever since they'd come here, it had been three or four times in a week - but now it was every single night, whether Charles was there with them or not, and whether or not either of them had been with him during the day. Sometimes, they even woke in the middle of the night to go again, something that had not happened since she was pregnant with Nina and horny at all the most inconvenient times.
Still, it wasn't enough, and a few times a week Magda found excuses to sit on Charles' lap again during his free period, to enjoy his fingers and his mouth, and, sometimes, his cock. The days Magda didn't go to see him in the afternoon were the days he and Erik played chess well into the evening - games that quickly became more, and that Charles showed her as they happened. Despite all the rest, this always excited Magda enough that she had to rush to her bedroom, lock the door, thrust her fingers into herself until she came along with the two of them.
All in all, it was wonderful. Magda had never imagined sharing Erik before that came here, but now she could not imagine keeping him to herself, depriving the three of them of what they had together.
There was only one time she faltered again, thought that perhaps they should not have started this to begin with. It was because she was not certain what Erik would think, and had less idea of what Charles would. But she was not going to leave the subject hanging, not when she could bring it up sooner and know for sure.
She waited until she was certain. Then, the next night Charles came to their room, she said, "I must speak to you both. It is very important."
Erik must have recognized the seriousness of her tone, and Charles must have sensed it in her mind; they turned to her from the bed, almost as one, and waited.
Before either of them could ask, Magda took a deep breath, and then said, "I am pregnant." She paused. When they did not say anything, she added, "I do not know whose it is."
Charles, who'd been inside her a handful of times, and come there only twice; Erik, who'd been inside her five times a week for the last several months, but who had been trying for a second baby with her ever since Nina had been toddling; Magda thought she knew who had fathered this second one, but she would not be certain for a long time to come.
If Erik would grow blackly jealous now, the way he could be, the way he had the time one of her old boyfriends had tried to flirt with her in his presence; if Charles wanted what they had in bed but not more; Magda did not know what to do if either of these fears came to pass.
But now, Erik and Charles turned to look at one another. When they looked back at her, their expressions were again identical: the same joy Erik had worn when she told him about Nina, shining out from both their faces.
"Finally," Erik said.
"That's incredible," said Charles.
Magda joined them on the bed, and the three of them laughed and cried together, and the two of them made love to her as tenderly as either of them ever had, alone or together.
Or at least, they did after Charles said, "Are you quite certain this won't hurt the baby?"
"Don't be an idiot," said Erik, as if he hadn't been even more concerned than that when she'd first become pregnant with Nina.
"It is fine," Magda said, and slapped Erik lightly on the arm.
Then, she lay back on the bed, Charles' hot tongue thrusting into her as Erik teased her clit and sucked on her nipples. Every time she came, Charles inquired, Erik grumbled at him for inquiring, and Magda felt less and less certain why she'd been so worried to begin with.
Magda was naked, lying on the mattress, her stomach protruding above her, taking up a huge amount of her vision; Erik was standing between her legs, holding her thighs steady behind her knees as he thrust in and out of her. She could see nothing of that with her belly in the way, but she could see his face, red and sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead.
He had been going for twenty minutes now, a miracle; when she had been pregnant with Nina, he had never lasted more than five, and always had to finish her with his fingers or his mouth. But that had been before they'd had Charles to hold Erik at the brink, to keep him hard from half a house away.
Magda had lost count of how many times she'd come, since Erik began to fuck her. More than she would have if they'd been alone, for Charles kept showing her what Erik was feeling, and she came around him again every time.
You're so incredibly lovely, the both of you, Charles said, in that tone he used when he was projecting to her only; he had learned better than to make Erik self-conscious when she needed him so badly. My God.
Magda could not see what was so lovely about herself as she was now, but there was no denying how well it affected both Erik and Charles, so she supposed they did see something she did not. At any rate, she benefited from it, day after day, whenever she wanted either or both of them.
The moment she was finished, Erik groaned and came inside of her. Once she had scooted all the way onto the bed, he collapsed next to her, still gasping. She might have felt sorry for him if he hadn't also looked so self-satisfied - as if he hadn't had help in making it so good for her.
"Was that enough for you?" he whispered into her ear, once he'd caught his breath. There was something in the way he said it, his hand caressing the swell of her belly, that let her know that Charles had told him what she was feeling, too. That he had told Erik every time she came, that he had been free about how good it felt, to be so full of Erik, to have him moving so steadily inside her for such a long time.
"For now," Magda said, knowing as well as he did that she would want his long fingers fucking her roughly sometime before dawn.
A few minutes later, their bedroom door swung inward, and Charles rolled in. His face as red, as it always was when he was aroused; when he came closer to the bed, the bulge in his lap became easily evident.
"I hope it's not too late," he said thickly, as if he had not been here with them moments ago.
In answer, Erik slipped off the bed, all liquid grace, knelt down in front of Charles' wheelchair. They were positioned so that Magda could see, though they made no particular show of it. Together, the two of them undid Charles' trousers, pushed his underwear down, and then Erik took Charles into his mouth.
This had been strange to witness, too, the first few times. Now, Magda thought it very beautiful, Erik taking Charles in so deep as to be gagging on him, hungry for Charles in just a slightly different way than he was for her; and Charles, petting Erik's hair, telling him how gorgeous he was, how much Charles had always loved this sight. (Somehow, being told in this way never seemed to do anything other than to make Erik more eager, despite his shyness at other times.)
But Charles was not only looking at Erik. Every so often, he glanced at Magda, taking her in. For a few minutes, her hand remained on her belly. Then, though she had thought she was done for the next few hours at least, she waited until the next time Charles looked before sliding her hand from her belly to the slick flesh between her legs. As Erik devoured Charles, Magda put herself on display, positioning herself so that Charles could see what she was doing, her fingers rubbing her clit, then sliding over her entrance.
Glancing between the two of them, Charles soon came. Then, he and Erik returned to bed.
As sore as she was beneath her arousal, Magda almost wished Charles had not come, that she could have ridden him. Bur that was before the two of them surrounded her, Charles on her left and Erik to the right; that was before two of Charles' fingers entered her, along with two of Erik's. Then, she no longer wished any such thing.
With his other hand, Charles reached for her breast, as she leaned against him, Erik looming overhead. Between the two of them, Charles was the one who was allowed, because he was the one who always knew when she was about to become too sensitive.
Soon, she came around both their fingers, with Erik's mouth kissing her shoulder, Charles' hand stroking underneath her heavy breast. Just the once, this time, a last clenching around them, and then she was done.
It was not until after they had gotten situated in the bed - there was no question of Charles returning to his own bed now that he had been here tonight; both rooms would have felt too empty - that Charles made a sound.
"What?" Erik asked.
"Your daughter," Charles said.
There was no need for him to say more. Over the past few months, Nina had discovered her rebellious side, proving once and for all that she was Erik's daughter. They'd put her to bed hours ago, but lately that hadn't stopped her from getting out of bed in the middle of the night, and then outright sassing them when she was told she had no business going anywhere but the restroom after midnight. While getting Nina to bed had often been a trial, it had never been a battle, not until these last few months. Magda did not know what had gotten into her. Perhaps it was the baby, the latest of the great changes in their life over the past year. That was the most obvious explanation, though it did not feel true when she tried to consider it.
Erik, who was now between Charles and Magda, as they were the more likely to need to get up for the restroom in the middle of the night, scooted down to the foot of the bed and hit the floor. As he reached for his clothing on a nearby chair, he was already grumbling to himself; though he'd always had much patience with Nina, even he was wearing thin these days.
With a look toward them that said he knew they would canoodle in his absence, but he had resigned himself to it, Erik went off to track down their daughter.
When he had gone, here was the opportunity Magda had been waiting for, these past couple days. For the moment, she forgot Nina, who she would remember soon enough when Erik returned to grumble some more, and she crawled into Erik's spot in the bed, and she placed Charles' hand on her stomach.
Charles' eyes softened, in that way they did for this baby and no one else. "Hello," he said, to both of them.
"The baby, he is yours," Magda said.
"...Pardon?"
"It is your baby," she said, watching his face, very anxious to know what he thought about this.
Uncertainty, caution - that was what she saw there, and it was not very comforting.
"How could you possibly know that?"
Suddenly, Magda knew: the way Charles was looking at her, it was because he was not sure if he dared to believe. He had been told he would never father children. The doctor had believed it, and so he had, too. This seemed too good to be true, another rug that might be pulled from under him - like his first school, years ago. Like Erik, longer ago still.
Understanding this gave Magda comfort, allowed her to calmly explain instead of bursting into tears and swearing at him, which had been the other option. "When I was very pregnant with Nina, sometimes the neighborhood cats would follow me home. Not only that, but the neighborhood birds - in the last month, I do not think I ever woke up without at least ten birds at the bedroom window, singing to me."
"Did the cats sing?" Charles' hand was stroking her belly, his mind searching hers, unable to wait for the answer despite his apparent irreverence.
"Yes, but they were not so good at it," Magda said. "So. Nina manifested when she was five years old, but we were not surprised at the how." Charles may have known already, but there was a difference between allowing him to discover this and telling him, and so she would finish. "In the past week, I have been hearing things, knowing things I should not. When people speak to me, sometimes I hear what they are thinking, whether it is the same thing or not. Maybe it is possible that Erik and I could make a baby who will read minds, but I think the other explanation is more likely. Do you agree?"
From the way Charles kissed her then, and kissed her stomach, it was very clear that he did, even without the baby telling her any more of his secrets.
Charles had fallen asleep by the time Erik returned. Magda had meant to tell him tomorrow, when they could have the same privacy she and Charles had had, but found herself whispering it to him anyway.
She was not concerned that Erik would grow jealous, or feel less connected to this baby - she had learned that he wanted this baby to be Charles', as if it would be a repayment of something - as if he shouldn't have known already that babies were made when they were made, and had nothing to do with their parents' past sins - but still, it was a comfort when his eyes softened, too, and he said, "Good. He'll be all of ours, then."
"Yes," Magda said, though she knew as well as he did that it would have still been the case, if it had been otherwise.