Page 80 of Our Elliana

THIRTY-FOUR: It’s Getting Hot in Here

JACKSON

I’m not gonna lie. Earlier, I had true feelings of aggravation toward Elle. Maybe it was inappropriate or unjustified, but I had them regardless. These past few months have been the gig of all gigs, the gig of my dreams. And copping to the fact that she doesn’t see these circumstances as vital to her existence as I do to mine left me a little miffed.

Fine, a lot miffed.

Yet sex makes everything better. I can look at what’s going on with two differing philosophies. Either the intensity she just displayed with Tristan and her desire to fuck all three of us tonight means that her feelings run so deep she won’t be ending our contracts—or mine by itself—when our six months is up.

Or she will end them, so that means I should get as much of that amazing pussy of hers as I can while the getting’s good. One view is cynical, and one is outlandishly optimistic. And right this particular second, I don’t know which one I honestly believe.

When Noah sinks into her, his eyes roll up into his head so far I wonder if he’ll go blind.

“Elle, this is just... oh... It’s so...”

“That’s because you’re feeling Tristan’s come mixed with all my slickness. It’s dripping down my thigh, isn’t it?” she asks, and he nods, visibly swallowing. “I can’t wait to feel your come combining with his as you fill me up and dribble down my leg.”

Fucking Christ, that’s some top shelf dirty talk.

The kid must agree with me because he pounds into her more enthusiastically than I’ve ever witnessed prior to now. Maybe I’m being presumptuous, but I’ve taken over the clit duties by rubbing her pearl piercing between my index and middle fingers. My hand’s already so slippery from her that the tip of my cock’s leaking like a sieve.

Tristan has taken up his station on the sofa sitting behind her. He’s cupping both her tits and Frenching the wholly living fuck out of her mouth. So, with him handling her top half, that leaves Noah and me to tackle the bottom, and I know we’re up to the task.

Just for shits and giggles, I make sure one of my strokes edges low enough to skid along the space where Elle and the kid are joined. While the contact is fleeting, it’s enough to make an impression.

Noah hisses like Three Socks—our resident feline abandoned the main living space as soon as all the blissed-out noises started—and pummels that thick-ass shaft into her like there’s no tomorrow.

She’s so drenched it’s super easygoing for him, and he’s coming within literal seconds, his tight abs clenched as he unloads within her. Kudos to him, though, when he doesn’t just throw in the towel. The kid must have a superhero short refractory period because with the pressure now eased, he goes for a long while, plenty long enough for Elle to orgasm for the third time.

I know the signs, have known them for quite a while now, because this interaction isn’t the only male-on-male sex I’ve had. I’ve rubbed off with a couple of other dudes during hookups before, once in a devil’s three-way, and once just me and him. And while I enjoyed both interludes physically, I didn’t connect with either guy beyond that.

It felt like eating empty calories. Sure, those cheese puffs will taste good. But not only are you hungry again soon after, there’s basically no real nutritional value.

But that’s my fault, not theirs. Those dudes didn’t do anything wrong. And yes, anytime I think about labeling myself, I figure I’d probably need to go with something along the bisexual spectrum. Or at least I did. I assumed I was only attracted enough to men to barely qualify for the status. Because frankly, ninety-plus percent of the time, I prefer and pursue women.

It’s been years since those encounters.

Yet offering to push Noah’s boundaries is something I’ve been considering for a while. I just haven’t done anything about it in order not to make him uncomfortable. But if my experiment just proved anything, it’s that the kid liked it. Moreover, I liked it far better than I ever did with those other dudes.

Is it because I feel closer to Noah? Has the lighthearted friendship we’ve developed enhanced my enjoyment?

If so, that means I might not be strictly bi, after all. I could be more of a demisexual based on the closeness of our relationship rather than merely gender. If that’s the case, Noah might be in the same boat.

But exploring all that isn’t up to me. The kid will have to determine whatever his labels might be himself. If he even wants such a label. Besides, now that Noah has made his grand finish—and helped Elle to find another of hers—it’s my turn.

And I’m raring to go.

We rearrange our configuration again. Tristan latches his mouth onto Elliana’s right breast while Noah takes up residence at Elle’s side as he provides her with one slow and luxurious kiss after another. This is the kind of thing that gets my motor running.

The visuals of one man sucking a woman’s tit while the other smooches her from the opposite side, and all of it happening in the stark-assed nude?

It’s like sexual crack for me. I’m unquenchably addicted.

Sliding into Elle right now is like heaven, and as I do, more of the buildup of come is displaced, the white semen leaking out of her. I don’t know why but the image of that flips some primal, lizard-brain switch inside of me, and I pummel into her much like the other two did.

Still, I remain aware enough to maintain my lover’s safety and satisfaction. Her expression is uplifted and relaxed, so I know I’m good. In fact, soon I’m gonna be great.

Bringing Elle’s feet to my chest, I situate her soles so that they’re lined up with my eagle’s wings. Then, holding her by the hips, I piston into her creating a slapping noise, and she again starts up with her sounds of ecstasy.

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