Chapter 10: Jean Broody vs. Bradley Jackson ~ When suppressed desires explode… Review from hell!

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“Reminds me of this review I once read on a hair removal gel. You’re not going to believe what happened to the guy.” He chuckled. “He says he felt a gentle warmth after applying the gel on his pubes. But he thought it was normal so he ignored it. In no time, he began to burn.”

“True story?” Bradley removed his arm from across his eyes and looked down at Jean.

“Yep. The burning became intense so he quickly washed the gel off but the burning only intensified.”

“Shit,” Bradley muttered.

“Meanwhile he’d actually smeared it as far as in between his butt cheeks so even his butthole was burning too.”

“What?” Bradley laughed. “I’m sure if he’d used soap to wash it off...”

“And you think he didn’t?” Jean drawled. “So there he was, groin burning, butthole burning. He says he was willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning, especially around his asshole. Stop laughing Bradley.”

But Bradley couldn’t stop laughing. “Was he home alone?”

“Wife was in bed. It was her birthday. Dude told her he wanted to give her a treat. I wonder what kind of treat a smooth groin and arse were supposed to be but that’s not the issue. He needed to stop that burning. Water and soap were obviously not helping so he rushed to the kitchen…in fact, he crawled because walking was not possible. He needed some cold relief.”

“Oh god.” Bradley was laughing so hard at that point.

“Don’t blame me if this thing nicks you.” Jean tried to sound stern but couldn’t pull it off. “Dude yanked open the freezer and grabbed a tub of ice cream. He took off the lid and sat on it.”

Bradley shook so hard with laughter, Jean had to pause what he was doing. “You’re making it up.”

“Trust me, it’s a true story.” Jean laughed. “Naturally, the burning butthole couldn’t get any cold treat from Einstein just sitting on that bucket of ice cream…which was beginning to melt fairly quickly by the way. He said for the first time in his life, he wished he had a gay snowman in his kitchen.” Bradley’s laughter reached a crescendo. At least he’d gone back soft. “But alas, there was no snow dick to give him a soothing fuck. So he grabbed a bag of frozen sprouts, took one out, and eased it into that burning chute. And that was the exact moment his wife entered the kitchen, wanting to investigate the grunts coming from the kitchen. Imagine her shock when she found our man with arse cheeks white from their encounter with the ice cream, a frozen sprout sticking out of his hole, moaning… ‘Ooooh, that feels good’.”

Bradley was laughing so hard he started to cough. Jean got off the bed to pick up the bottle of water from the tray on the table and tossed it to Bradley with a shake of his head. Then he headed for the bathroom. By the time he came back to the room with a wet hand towel, Bradley’s laughter had subsided into chuckles.

“Oh my god, you’re nuts.” Bradley panted, looking at Jean with amused eyes. “So what happened? What did the wife say?”

“You don’t even believe me but you still want me to continue.” Jean laughed as he got back into position…this time to wipe Bradley off.

“You might as well tell me the whole made-up story.” Bradley grinned, drawing a chuckle from Jean.

“Well, she screamed in shock of course. Which startled Einstein into an involuntary fart, which also resulted in the sprout springing out of his hole and hitting the wom…”

Bradley burst into laughter. “Now I know for a fact this whole story is made up.”

“I’ll let you read that review. Maybe we should make a bet or something.” Jean drawled as he stood up.

“Don’t believe everything you read.” Bradley retorted.

“This one sounded too sincere not to be believed.” Jean drawled. “Dude says the gel does not remove just hair, it also removes dignity and self-respect.” He laughed as he collected the shaving kit and headed for the bathroom. “Time to dress that wound. It’s healing just fine.” Jean announced when he reentered the room.

He dressed the wound quickly and gave Bradley another long t-shirt to wear. After seeing to it that Bradley had eaten some breakfast and taken his drugs, Jean disappeared for some minutes. When he came back, he’d changed his t-shirt for a slim-fit white shirt and completed his smart-casual look with a lovely blue blazer and a classy, navy suede, Desert boots.

Bradley’s gaze raked over Jean, lingering on his footwear. The man had taste. “Going out?”

“Yep.” Jean dropped some tablets on Bradley’s bedside table. “Making a quick stop at the hospital and my parents’. I’ll be back with lunch. If you’re in pain, take one of these. And if you need to reach me…” he leaned down and wrote his cell phone number on a notepad on the bedside table, “you can reach me on this number. I know it will be useless to tell you not to move from this bed so I won’t.”

Bradley snorted. “Why mention it then?”

“Try not to put too much strain on your leg. And whatever you do, don’t go up those stairs.” He cautioned. “That won’t be good for the injury. I know you’d rather be running around shooting like a maniac but please rest.”

“Buzz off. I need to exercise.”

“So the earlier you heal, the earlier you can exercise to maintain that eight-pack you’ve got there. Catch you later.” Jean turned to go.

“Remember not to go out in that car,” Bradley grumbled.

“I’m not an idiot.” Jean threw over his shoulder as he left the room.

“Could have fooled me,” Bradley muttered as he lowered the volume on the TV. He would wait for a while and then move out of the bed to stretch his limbs, he decided.

Bradley watched a farmer being interviewed on TV and promptly burst into laughter when he saw some sprouts amongst some vegetables. Jean was something else he thought, recalling his silly story about the hair gel. The laughter however disappeared when he recalled how he’d gotten hard at Jean’s touch.

“Fuck.” Just thinking about Jean’s hands-on him was making him hard again. “Shit, this is bad.” He muttered, moving his hand down to grip the rapidly hardening cock. He couldn’t stop himself from giving that hard flesh a squeeze. “What the fuck are you doing?” He rumbled at himself and quickly let go of his cock, moaning when it slapped against his hard tummy.

Bradley angrily swung his legs off the bed and stood up shakily. It was one thing getting a hard-on like a normal hot-blooded young man. It was totally another thing getting hard from a man’s touch and the mere thought of it. That was not acceptable.

“No, no…” He groaned as he suddenly heard that condemning voice again. That voice that made him feel dirty and worthless…that voice that he hadn’t heard in years… “No…” His hands moved up to press against each ear as he staggered back till he sat heavily on the bed.

‘You will burn in hell.’ The voice rose angrily. ‘I wish you hadn’t been born. You’re the spawn of the devil himself. I would have killed you myself but I don’t want to contaminate my hands with your filthy blood. Get out of my house…get out and never come back. Out…’

“No!” This time it was an anguished scream that tore out of Bradley.