Eastenders Chronicles II - Ricky's morning treat (M/f/T)
Based on a British soap this idea appeared a while back and, regrettably, has not been followed up by the author of a great Grant Mitchell wank. Here is a piece based on the current storyline. If you don't like man-sex, or if it is illegal for whatever reason where you are, then this is not for you. Ricky is a recently deserted straight bloke in his early twenties (you know, longish dark hair, well built, 8 inches uncut-- good british rough trade).
Ricky's Morning Treat
Ricky has been away from home for a couple of days and has slept late. His young baby son was taken away by its mother and he is alone in the house enjoying the calmness. He is sprawled out under a thin sheet across the double bed - the room is dark and warm. You can make out how fit he is through the cotton. Broad shoulders and the remains of a once slender waist. He is very slightly bloated from marriage, but still a real hunk of a fit fuck. He is lying on his stomach with his legs spread apart and his face half into one of the pillows. He thinks he hears a sound at the front door and opens his eyes to see the bedside clock -- 9.45am. "No fucking chance mate," he mutters and rolls onto his back determined not to get up yet. He is enjoying the tranquil life without the nagging wife Bianca. A few minutes later he is disturbed again by a noise on the street, and he lazily runs his right hand through his hair and rubs his face. Conscious now, he smirks slightly and his right hand goes back under the sheet to confirm the swollen warmth of his engorged cock stretched out rigid against his belly, tenting out the front of his boxer shorts. His fingers stroke lightly along the 8 inch shaft and he scratches with a nail at a starchy spunk stain trapped earlier in the week just below the waistband. "Fucking wonderful.... I think I will just start my day with really good wank."
His fingers slip into the fly and he grips his cock shaft. His thumb just below the ridge of his flaring helmet and his forefinger against the ample foreskin where it covers the slit. He spreads his legs wider and enjoys the feeling of the weight of his babymaking balls as they fall heavily between his fit, hairy thighs. He begins the stroke that he knows will bring a flood of pleasure before too long. "Yes, baby. This is going to be a really good load." As his arm builds up speed slightly the sheet moves up and down over his body, and the draught caused carries with it the overwhelming erotic odour of his stale sex. He allows his fantasies to flow, and although there are images of girls and young women offering him young tight cunt to penetrate, he focuses on the image of a girlfriend from his teenage years who would perform his favorite act. The act, which remembered, always makes him spunk off best. She would spread her legs across his chest and let him lick and smell her cunt while he wanked off. She allowed him this pleasure -- it gave her a sense of control to see this prime piece of rough trade with his face red and contorted, squirting ropes of thick teen boy sperm up her back. Lately, his fantasy has become `fucking weird' -- he has been dreaming about Jamie Mitchell playing the part of this girl. He puts it down to Bianca fucking him up so badly -- he doesn't trust women at the moment. He wants to smell this strong young blond lad wanking off in his face. He wants Jamie to be next to him in the morning, waking up with his sweaty teenboy hardon, and pressing his face into Jamie's stale crutch as the kid rubs off his morning load. He wants to guide the kid's cock to the back of his throat and eat his energetic flood of cum. He wants to squirt his spunk into the boys dirty briefs.
"Oh yes, Jamie let me taste it man." Ricky is getting into his fuck rhythm, he can smell his armpits now as the effort of sex built up in his groin. Throwing back the sheet he prepares for the third phase. He lifts the waistband and pulls the shorts down wriggling his tight arse out of them, down his tight hair covered thighs to his ankles and slipped out his left foot, so they hang lewdly over the foot of the bed from his right ankle. The he grabs them and pulls the crutch to his face and deeply inhales the musk of three days wear. The cock stink he is sniffing could be Jamie's, "Yes Jamie, I bet you'd love to see me to sniffing these wouldn't ya?"
Ricky's hot cock is swaying gently as his pulse intensifies at this onslaught of the massively horny pheromones generated by his cock sweat. His foreskin is now tightly drawn back over the flaring helmet and the slit is drooling precum in a pool on his hairy tight belly. He sets his underwear to one side and takes up the stroke again. This time he uses his left hand to stimulate his fat bollocks. They have drawn together with the jerking of his cock ready to deliver their wad of slime. His fingers grip, squeeze and release the ballsack and he fingers his sweaty hairy arse. He pulls his finger to his nose and inhales "oh fuck Jamie, you want to smell my arse mate? Let me smell your balls, go on Jamie wank it off man, I want to suck your lovely fresh spunk.. I want your spunk man. Put your dirty balls under my nose and let me lick you tight teen arse. Yeh, that's it Jamie fucking brilliant."
Ricky takes up the stroke again, this time using all the fingers of his right hand up the front of the shaft with his thumb riding the ridge of the helmet. The flow of precum has given the lube he needs to make the friction delicious and unsustainable. His hand is flying back and forward over the cock, dragging the tight foreskin almost painfully over the swollen head and then back as far as it will travel. The forefinger of his left hand has slipped about two inches into his moist warm sphinctre and he is using his nails to nip the tight skin of his balls. The warm air is rank with the scent of a stale cock getting its morning exercise and he lifts his butt off the bed letting his finger travel deeper into his hot firm arse. The verbal abuse of a cockney male giving his spunk breaks out . "Now you dirty little wanker, fucking let me eat your spunk you slut -- fuck, your bollocks smell so good, let it flow Jamie, give me my fucking breakfast...." Ricky convulses and his hips thrust helplessly as he rubs himself into a frenzy and gasps and five thick white ropes of spunk squirt up over his torso. He flops back onto the sweat damp bed and breathes deeply, his still twitching cock softens and leaves it final few dribbles of sperm in the hair under his navel. Ricky takes the shaft between his fingers and drains it with a few slow pulls leaving a few drops of the slime under the cover of his foreskin. He gasps again -- "Fucking great, Jamie you little slut."
He takes the boxers and wipes up the cool prolific lake of cum slime from his chest -- he is proud at the volume of sperm as he weighs his dirty shorts in his hand before tossing them to the floor.
(Who was at the door? What happens next?)
All good feedback reciprocated. Rob