Candy Boys (Hot Candy 1)

Like last time, on his bed, when he whacked off together with me. The memory makes my cock jerk in my hand again, and I grit my teeth, squeezing. Why the fuck am I thinking of that now?

Goddammit. This is a disaster. It won’t work.

With a curse, I let go of my hard-on and start to push off the cushions, intent on getting out of here before I make a fool of myself in front of Candy who scoots sideways at my sudden movement.

A strong hand shoves me back down, and I fall against the backrest with a surprised oof.

Jet’s hand.

He has an arm around Candy’s shoulders, and he’s leaning into me, stopping me from making my escape, not allowing me a way out.

“I’m here,” he says, and I blink, because fuck if that fact doesn’t ease the tension in my gut—and increase the pressure in my balls. “We do this together.”

That sounds better than it should. My balls ache. I’ve been hard since I heard them make out through the wall, since I walked in and saw them locked together in a hot kiss. Since I took over and directed them to their release.

I need to come so fucking bad.

And Jet seems to know exactly what to do to make it happen. How the hell does he do it? How does he know to keep his hand on my chest as I struggle to accept I want it on me, or to turn and kiss her mouth as I reach for the condom in my wallet?

I tear the foil and pull it on, biting the inside of my cheek not to moan as I handle my too-hard, too-ready cock. I wrap an arm around her waist, my hand brushing over satiny skin and soft curves on its way down. Cupping her lush ass, I guide her to me. I put my hand between her legs, under her skirt, and pull her soaked panties to the side, baring her.

She moans into Jet’s mouth. He doesn’t release her from the kiss as I push into her sleek pussy, a slow, hot slide that leaves me shaking.

So tight. So fucking good.

She clenches around me and I lean back, putting my hands on her tits, massaging them, teasing her hard nipples.

She cries out, breaking the kiss, and rocks on top of me, taking me deeper.

Holy shit. If she keeps doing that, I’m gonna blow my load right now.

Jet glances over to me, licking his lips. He’s hardening again, his cock rising toward his stomach. I look away quickly, but that’s hot, too, and fuck, he’s noticed me looking.

My mind’s all screwed up.

“Joel…” she whimpers, gripping my biceps, pushing her boobs into my hands, and I squeeze them harder, rubbing my thumbs over her nipples.

“Give it to me.” I groan when she rises slightly and drives herself back down on my cock. “Fuck yeah, like that. Ride my cock, girl.”

A buzz echoes in my ears. All the blood has left my brain, pooling in my dick. My balls are drawn up tight, heavy. My hands drop from her tits to her hips, controlling her movements, lifting and dropping her down on my cock.

Come on. Damn, I want her, and I’m aching, and I want…

Jet is still braced on me with one hand, and when he lets out a strangled moan, I glance down to see him stroking his dick.

Shit, I want to make him come along with Candy and myself. Feel it. Feel him come, see him.

“Ride me,” I tell her again, gripping her hip savagely and kissing her hard—as I grip Jet’s thigh, digging my nails into the thick muscle there until he hisses.

Bruising him. Marking him.

Like I’m marking her.

She cries out against my lips, tightening around my cock like a vise, contracting and rippling until I can’t breathe from the pressure.

Jet’s hand clamps down on my shoulder, and he gasps, coming hard, his load hitting my chest—and it’s starting.

I feel it deep inside me, the pressure breaking, the wave cresting, the heat rolling down my dick in a fucking massive tide. As Candy breaks the kiss to arch her back, still riding my jerking cock, I moan so loudly I think the whole city can probably hear me—and I don’t give a damn.