Page 81 of Our Elliana

“Sweet baby Jesus, Jackson. You’re hitting it just right. Right there, right there, don’t stop.”

As if I even could at this point. This is like a freight train barreling downhill with no brakes.

All this sensory input is overwhelming. The fragrance of Noah’s freshly washed form. Tristan’s slightly spicy cologne. The combination of Elle’s drenched sex along with her fruity body wash. All of it is coalescing, and along with the clenching of her pussy on my cock, it becomes too much.

The orgasm strikes me like a thermonuclear detonation.

I’m a blabbermouth most of the time, and sex is no exception. But this time despite coming with Elle earlier at her shop, I’m maxed out to my limit. The power of the explosion is so all-encompassing that I’m speechless, completely silent, as my balls tighten and empty with so much force that I stagger drunkenly forward and the other men have to steady me.

The four of us remain in contact as my blood returns to my brain, again allowing me to think. I process one thought over and over. At least if my time in this house is limited, I’ll have all these shining memories of us together.

Always.

THIRTY-FIVE: Five-Star Rating

ELLIANA

The day before Christmas Eve, I traipse into work noting the second much more extensive set of security updates I authorized. Andre and I supervised the installation of this package over the past week, and in his manager’s office downstairs now resides a security station on one wall.

Except for the entrance to the restrooms at the foot of the stairs, those display monitors show nearly every inch of Blingblang, inside and out. It’s now been nearly a month since any sign of my stalker has shown up, and I hope and pray that means whoever it is gave up. I mean, what do they have to gain through this?

The bare bones of it add up to some jerk leaving me oddball cards along with breaking a window and display case. The vandalism could’ve been so much more severe, and the lack of theft still puzzles and frustrates me.

I mean, what is this dude’s point?

With so much time passing, I’ve pondered some possible reasons, and all this strikes me more like a child throwing a tantrum than someone being legitimately insidious. It’s as if he’s testing me, trying to attract my attention without being fully committed to getting it.

What if this whole thing has been some elaborate prank perpetrated by some asshole with too much time on his hands? Only rather than ringing my doorbell and sprinting away like some ornery preteen, he busted out some glass instead?

It’s way less creepy to think about it that way.

I’m starting to relax at work again bit by bit. For one thing, nobody’s strolling into my store without being on camera and recorded. For another, Andre has been on the warpath. Anyone who has acted anything resembling squirrely has been told to hit the road.

Of course, he deals with them in his own suave manner, cloaking his insistence on their departure in excellent customer service. I’m extremely lucky to have him. I’m also extremely lucky to have my guys.

My guys.

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