EPILOGUE 1
The notebook sits sprawled across the bed, my bare foot casually leaning against the edge next to it and my guitar in hand casually strumming a chord or two as I watch Jagger next to me, writing down a couple of notes inside the book.
He looks up, meets my eyes, and then glances at Asher, a spark of excitement in his gaze.
“I’ve got this line,” Jagger says, his voice carrying the weight of the words. “It’s like a heartbeat, you know? Something primal and raw.”
He hits a chord on his guitar, “Through the dune of time, his footsteps leave a trace…”
Jagger’s vocal range has developed since I’ve known him, allowing for both intense, raspy low notes and soaring, dynamic high notes. But it’s that distinctive rough, husky texture that gives his voice a characteristic edge that cuts through the instruments and sits so well with the kind of music we now produce. Whether belting out anthemic choruses or delivering soulful ballads, his voice often conveys a sense of rebellion, emotion, and charisma that captivates audiences.
“No, wait,” he says, cutting me off from following off his notes. “Through the dune of time….yeah, that’s it…..” he repeats himself again. “Through the dune of time, his footsteps leave a trace, chasing inner demons, finding solace in this space.”
Asher, always in sync with the rhythm, starts tapping out a heartbeat on his drumsticks. ”Like this?”
Jagger’s grinning as he bops his head at Asher’s drumming.
Then, my fingers find the perfect chords, weaving around the heartbeat rhythm, creating an ethereal yet grounded melody.
Jagger begins to sing, his voice blending seamlessly with the instruments, and we finally breathe life into a set of lyrics. My fingers dance on the strings of my guitar, plucking them with melodic precision, providing a steady undertone. Asher continues tapping out a beat on the edge of the bed, his eyes focused on the notebook in front of him.
By the second verse, I stop, and the other two follow me, smiling wide.
“I reckon, fellas, we got the base tune of our next song!”
“Ahhhh!”
Our joy is interrupted by the two figures on the bed in front of us, and my knob on instant goes hard.
I watch the beauty sprawled out naked on the customized massive bed and my brother positioned between her legs, his face hidden within her thighs, going to town on her without any sign of stopping on the pussy he’s currently feasting on.
Her dark, tanned skin against his pale, typical English flesh contrasts. Those juicy breasts of hers, beautiful hard buds…
“For fuck’s sake, Callum,” she breathes out heavily as she arches her back and thrashes her hips against his face.
He looks up from her mound and turns his head over his shoulder at Asher and Jagger sitting in his direct line of sight.
“A little help, fellas, to keep her down while I bring her to the edge.”
His face wet with a mix of his own saliva and her juice, he gives me that signature cunning grin he’s known for.
“It’s been five already, you ass!” she screams.
“Shhh, princess!” I chuckle, putting my guitar against the chair I’m sitting on and crawling up the bed. “When my brother is determined to break his record, don’t interrupt him!”
Callum’s gaze looks up at me as I move towards the left side of Eden and I know he’s grinning.
“Hasn’t your tongue numbed yet?” she asks, panting, as her head lifts up.
I brushed a few sweaty strands of hair away from her brow, and my eyes catch the faint scar that starts from her left temple and gets hidden in her hair. They had to shave part of her head, but over a year later, her hair is growing back at a steady rate. She dyed her growing hair green and the ends of her long strands to match. One would think she intentionally cut her hair that way, but her inner circle knows the truth.
A cold shiver runs up my spine just thinking about how we all thought we lost Eden.
Perhaps for a brief moment, we had. That fateful evening, we heard Asher yelling and shouting over the phone and then crying.
It was an event I would never want to relive again.
When we arrived at the abandoned mall, the emergency medical crew had already loaded her into the ambulance. Asher got into our vehicle, and we sped through the streets to the hospital, where we watched the medics unload Eden and nurses and doctors race her into surgery.
When Asher pulled her out of the car, he already knew she had been shot in the head. The head tends to bleed more profusely than most parts of the body, and he thought she was dead, but as he held her, he felt slight gasping breaths from her, realizing she might still be alive, and started immediate CPR on her.
He kept Eden’s heart going for twenty minutes until the ambulance arrived. Truth is, he saved her life, and without his swift determination to keep going, she’d be dead by now. I regret now taking the piss out of him back when he chose PE1 for his GCSE2 elective school exam and got his first aid instruction through the course. Ironic in every sense.
When the surgeon approached us, he explained that the bullet entered the skin on the side of her head but evidently hadn’t much force—we later learned the gun used was some dodgy cheap shite that was bought off the street. The bullet skirted along the outside of Eden’s skull, just under the skin and out the back. It did pierce the skin, which left her temporarily paralyzed, and she went into cardiac arrest.
The doctor explained they were more concerned with the state of her heart than the gunshot, and Eden was in a coma for almost twenty-four hours. During that time, no one knew if she would live or die. She lay motionless with tubes attached to her, surrounded by monitors, machines, and medical professionals in intensive care.
To describe how I felt, how we all felt during that time … well … I would not wish that on any man to watch the love of his life so fragile and vulnerable. I had never felt so helpless in all my life. To finally get the woman of your dreams back and then have fate take it away in such a cruel, abrupt manner.
There wasn’t just the complete uncertainty of whether she would live or die, but if she did wake up, the doctors couldn’t rule out the possibility that she would have serious brain damage from the twenty-minute lack of oxygen during the heart attack.
Then, the magical moment struck when she woke out of her coma, looked at us, and said, “Where am I? What happened?”
At that moment, we all breathed a heavy sigh of relief in unison.
But Eden’s recovery wasn’t easy. For several months, she suffered enormous brain fatigue, difficulties with memory and concentration, sensitivity to sound, and a touch of depression. But each of us stood by her at every step of her recovery.
It’s been five months since our lives got back to normal, and we’re now living at Terra Sands. The property renovations were completed a month ago, and we spend most of our time here in the desert with only each other to entertain each other.
And the five dogs Eden and Asher adopted.
Old Storm took a turn for the worse. While Eden was in recovery, he suffered a couple of seizures, but the vet managed to pull him through.
When she decided to return to Terra Sands for a couple of weeks to finish her recuperation here, she brought him with us. A few nights later, the poor guy died in his sleep right beside her. I think he kept himself alive to spend his last night cuddled up next to Eden at the place they both regarded as their home.
It was devastating that she had to deal with the death of her buddy on top of everything, but his death wasn’t surprising; he lived longer than the average dog of his breed. She had him cremated, and he now rests in a special garden area outside and has a plaque with his name made. She said this area on the property will now be dedicated to all her pets that pass.
So we have five new dogs running amok in this now extended home….
Not a day goes by without some adventure going on with the animals.
We never asked what happened to Catalina’s body. None of us know or care.
She’s dead, and that’s what matters.
“Ahhhh! Fuck!!”
Hearing Eden’s voice gets my knob even harder. I reach down to remove my shorts, but bloody Ash has beaten me to it and is getting his blown by Eden.
I lean down and catch her nipple between my lips as I hold her arm down.
“How many are we at?” I hear Jagger ask, who’s just moved to her right side. He reaches out and caresses her breast.
I’m pretty sure it’s six.
“Seven,” Callum looks up, “She had a slight tremor at number six.” And he goes back to work.
“Does a slight tremor even count as an orgasm?”
“Half an orgasm,” I say, releasing her nipple from my mouth. “So he’s at six and a half.”
“Fucker,” Callum releases himself from Eden’s pussy. His mouth and most of the lower part of his face are swollen, red, and wet. “That was seven.”
“How’s your tongue?” Asher asks, laughing, and then groans with whatever Eden’s just done to him.
“I can no longer feel it. I think I left it inside Eden.”
Eden pushes me and Jagger off her, gets on her knees in front of Asher, and goes back down on him. Her arse is just there facing me, and I reach out and stroke it. She opens her legs wider, inviting me in. I grip my hard knob, and all I need is one pump before plunging straight into her core.
Spreading either arm out, she indicates to Callum and Jagger that she wants to jerk them off too. They remove their shorts and move closer as she takes either knob and starts to rhythmically pump them at the same speed she bops her head over Asher.
I slow myself down to her pace and observe our working in sync. It’s fucking hot.
“You recording this?” I ask Jagger and then see the red light on the camera.
“Yup,” he confirms, his eyes focused on Eden’s hand pumping his knob.
As I said, there isn’t much to entertain ourselves with here. We make music, love, fuck, record ourselves doing it, and then sit with popcorn to watch the porn we make.
We’ve discovered that black and white is more flattering than filming in color. Sometimes our movies are fun, other times, it”s cringy, and almost every time, we’ll put a pause on watching because we’ve become horny again.
We broke up once because of a video that was recorded without our permission, and then it was intentionally made public. Now, we record ourselves because we are in control of it for our own private use. The five of us discovered that when there’s consent, it can actually be a lot of fun.
I grip Eden’s hips and focus on my knob going in and out of her, and not only does it look amazing, but it feels fucking good too.
Her pretty puckered hole is right there in front of me, and I reach down and lube my finger with her juices and add my finger slowly inside her hole, watching it disappear. She jerks slightly and then hums over Asher’s dick.
Eden absolutely loves anal play, and doing this excites her more as she begins to pick up her pace on Asher. As I slowly add a second finger inside her, she stops and moans loudly.
Asher takes over, collects her long dark hair into his fist, and begins to power into her face as he grinds himself, his own face contorting with pure bliss. I probably have the same look on my face.
“Shit, I can’t,” he grunts hard. “I can’t hold back. Watching him finger fuck your arse, Eddie, it”s too fucking much. I need to come, baby.”
She nods her head but refuses to let her mouth leave his knob, and I’m pretty sure she’s just dived even deeper to take him all the way.
Fuck, I’m going to come just watching her do that.
Asher’s body jerks several times, and I watch Eden lick his dick clean.
“You alright there, princess?” I ask as I continue to pump into her.