Candy Ever After (Hot Candy 2)

Nothing turns me on like the fantasy of two men together. Masturbating. Doing each other as I watch. Big hands on muscular asses, on hard, straining dicks, hard mouths slamming together in savage kisses as they chase their release.

Not just any men. Two men in particular, two men I have now met and hot damn… I’m throbbing, excited just from the mental image.

Okay… Time out.

Chapter Five

JOEL

I glance at Jet as we run along the park.

The tradition of running together started back when we first met. I was on the track team of the school, and he said he wanted to give it a go, so we began running together two, three times a week.

That’s also the time we started wrestling. I was into all sorts of sports.

He said he wanted to be stronger. He was kinda scrawny back then, way too thin and gangly, all limbs and joints.

Not anymore. I glance at him as we round a corner and cross the street to enter the park where we often end up in our evening jogs. He’s filled out, his shoulders wide, his frame muscled, his legs strong. He’s as tall as me now, too, and can take me out at least one time in two on the wrestling mat.

The thought makes me grin and give him a shove as we jog into the park. He gives me the finger, and I only grin wider. He’s always been a prickly motherfucker, but he seems more confident now than ever before. I got to see that transformation from awkward boy to a damn strong man, and I’m proud of him.

If only he told me what happened to him before I met him…

“You okay now?” I ask for the third time, and Jethro sends me a pissed-off look.

“I’m fucking fine.”

“Need help?”

“Fuck you.”

I clench my jaw, forcing my gaze away from Jethro who’s limping beside me down the street toward my car, away from the bruise darkening his jaw and his split lip.

“Didn’t know you changed jobs,” I mutter. From a bad and seedy bar, to an even worse and seedier one.

“You don’t know everything about me.”

“Don’t make me punch you, you assface. You want me to pick up where those guys left off?”

He stops, fists clenching, eyes flashing. “Try it.”

“For fuck’s sake.” I grab his arm and haul him toward my car, scowling at everyone unlucky enough to step in our path. “Tell me you started the fight. Tell me you wanted the pain.”

“And if I said yes?”

I let go of him to unlock the car. “I’d call bullshit.” He may be brash and moody, but Jet’s not an asshole. “What happened to the previous job?”

“Got fired, what did you think?”

“Why?”

A silent beat. “Freaked out.”

Shit. It’s been a while since he had an episode. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No, I don’t wanna fucking talk about it.”

Heh, right. That’s the Jet I know. Farting rainbows.