Eastenders is the property of the BBC. I claim no rights and am making nothing off of this story. This is a work of fiction and has nothing to do with the actors in the roles. Don't take anything in this story as in any way resembling real life or any guide to what you or anyone else should do in life. Read only if you're 18 or older.
Thank you for all your feedback and suggestions, which I'll do my best to work into the chapters. Sorry for the delay between chapters.
I have been very busy but I do plan to finish the requests I've had for a story with Mick and Johnny and Lee right after Johnny comes out. I'm about halfway through, and it will be several chapters long. Sorry for the delay on that too.
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Mick never thought he'd say a bloke could look so gorgeous in a woman's smalls, even the shiny, expensive kind his L prided herself on, but seeing the Coker lad sprawled out, creamy top flimsy against his creamy white six-pack, his long neck pale and soft against Mick's gripping hand, murmuring from his sexy mouth and bucking his slim hips as Mick's hairy low-hangers pushed ever closer to his entrance.
Paul's arousal strained against the crotch of the panties, pre-cum drooling copiously against the tantalizingly silky fabric. Only the back was torn, ripped to shreds to accommodate Mick's pistoning shaft. Paul had taken larger blokes, even if this was the fattest he'd been fucked by in a good long hard while, but this got to him so much more than some trick from a club or on an app. This was the pub landlord, devoted family man, all-around saint. Untouchable. Off limits. Not that many years ago Paul wouldn't even have been allowed in the Vic without being treated like scum. Now he was in the big bed, getting the big dick that had practically propped up the bar all on its own the first time Paul saw it, a "Welcome to Walford" sign practically hanging off the zip already struggling to contain such delicious dickmeat.
As Mick not-so-lightly slapped his cheek, he turned to the window, happily taking Mick's thumb in his mouth. He looked at the back alley where he'd blown two workers who hadn't spoken a word the whole time, never even looked him in the eye. He'd taken their dicks at the same time, letting them stretch out his cheeks and feeling their greasy hands rough in his hair. All because they'd reminded him of Mick. The closest he'd ever get to Mick, he knew...until now, where Mick throbbed inside him like a second heartbeat, where Mick's hand was now the one in his hair, tugging, where he could feel the weight of Mick's heavy thighs against his, the taste of Mick's spit running down his lips.
He stayed still, letting Mick do everything, be everything. The most he did was grin like an idiot, because this was so much of what he'd wanted, why he'd snuck into the Vic in the middle of the night stark naked, dick bouncing with every quick step from what he could only hope would happen, that Jack had left the Vic doors unlocked for him to sneak in and he wouldn't be standing outside wearing only a smile, that Mick would take him to bed rather than to the cop shop. Amazingly, it had happened...that and even more.
"Slag..." Mick snarled at him, a dirty smirk darkening his face as Paul's shaft jumped at the abuse. "Thought you was such a good boy...your grandparents know 'bout all the dick you take behind me pub?"
When Paul, biting his lower lip, didn't respond, Mick tore the crotch of Linda's panties, the roughness of the Carter patriarch's palm against his shaft making him whimper. Mick's dark eyes, drained of all the warmth Paul was so used to when they exchanged glances in the pub, drilled into him nearly as violently as the flesh club slamming him in two.
"Good thing your Ben's an even bigger slag than you are..."
Paul groaned like a whore, pre-cum splashed against Mick's furry tits at the insult.
Before Paul was left breathless by Mick pulling out and roughly turning him over onto his stomach, he wondered if Ben was still at home worrying about him. Any further thoughts left his head as he was face-to-face to a furious Mick, hammering home every frustration and liberation of recent days.
Paul gave in, releasing anything of himself, letting Mick take him over, fill him. He thought the sheer thickness would break him, the weight of the bull balls slapping his tender opening would leave him begging for mercy, but he'd never been more satisfied. He welcomed Mick's mitts in his hair again, tearing through his curls, memories left on the pillow to match the bruises Mick would leave on his upper thighs.
He groaned against as Mick raised his lower half up, digging deeper in his dicking. To halt some of the cries of need and want, Mick shoved the tattered panties into Paul's mouth. Paul bit at Mick's silk-covered fingers before thrashing the garment with his perfect teeth, hoping the lewd image was everything Mick needed to tip him over the edge.
Mick grunted, beard dripping with sweat as he smacked Paul's chiseled abs hard, punched them when he knew Paul was strong enough to take it, like it. Ran his rough fingers over them, his thumb over and against the base of Paul's hard cock. Paul purred against the silk gag when Mick began circling the sensitive glans so few men seemed to understand the pleasures in. Or maybe it was just this man - Mick Carter of all men - whose touch broke Paul, because it was so much more than he ever expected. In his wife's bed. In her underwear.
The nastiness of it all, of drawing her husband into such perversion, his dick filling Paul until he couldn't remember where he began and Mick ended, was what made him convulse into Mick's amateurish but skilled hand, made him give Mick everything he wanted as Mick leered down at him.
And then Mick, spurred on, came inside him, came and came until Paul's marble-carved arse and the bedsheets were one, until Mick's feral growls were tuned to his rapid heartbeat, until he felt full, and happy.
He locked his hips around Mick's thick waist, not letting him pull out. Mick didn't fight it, too busy chuckling grimly at what they'd just done before reality slowly set back in. Reality and panic.
"If ya - if ya tell L I'll -"
Paul, with the last energy left in him, pulled Mick into a kiss passionate enough to remind him of just what it would take to keep their affair quiet.
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Something in Ben knew this was wrong, that his relationship with Jay could never be the same, but the chubby 6 inches between his chubby thighs would never forgive him if he denied himself this bliss.
An impatient Jay glared at him in a way that sent shivers, good and bad, through his body. He soon sensed that Jay wasn't looking at him, but at the remnants of coke Paul had left on the coffee table.
"Tell that fag to keep his hands off my gear," Jay said in a voice nearly as dead as his eyes. startling Ben with his ugly talk.
Ben was ashamed to feel his dick throb to full hardness at the words.
"Like that?" Jay jeered, stepping back, wiping his nose with the back of one hand as the other crudely wanked his long shaft.
He stepped closer, his voice softer, sweeter now. Like the Jay Ben loved.
"Tell me, bruv."
"Y-Yeah," Ben admitted, licking his lips as he tried not to look Jay in the eye. He found himself focused on Jay's gorgeous cock.
Jay's piece was thinner than his, but was still so much thicker than he'd remembered from all the times he'd perved on him changing or in the shower. Maybe because he had a close view, or because this time he knew it was going in his mouth or his arse - both probably.
Jay slapped his dick, hard, the loud thwap of flesh against flesh startling Ben. He began to stand up, wanting to touch, not just look. He was surprised when Jay shoved him back down.
"We always do what YOU want."
Jay stared down at him, lightly caressing Ben's red cheek with long, thin fingers. Each word had contempt, none of the fondness or patience he knew from the man he loved.
"You wanna cover up a murder."
A hurt Ben was about to say something, when Jay shook his head, his dick bobbing at the same time.
"You wanna pretend you ain't a poof."
The harsh words stung Ben, tears in his eyes even as he masturbated to the dressing down, ashamed at how sick he must be to get off on being verbally thrashed.
"You wanna wear your cocksucker colors...be all out an' proud."
Jay leaned down to squeeze Ben's aching shaft, not too soft, letting his hand rest on the belly that contrasted to Jay's tight six-pack.
"Betcha never thought I'd do that, but I always do what you want. Right?"
When Ben, tongue on the roof of his mouth, didn't respond, Jay startled him again by slapping his long prick against Ben's cheek, drops of cum coating his glasses. Ben could only let out a slight moan of surprise and desire.
"R-Right."
Ben began to reach for Jay's shaft, wanting to take it in his mouth the way he never thought he could, but he was surprised again when Jay instead yanked off his glasses.
He squinted, able to still see Jay sneering at him, able to feel another spurt from his aching shaft as he watched Jay turn around, watched Jay rub his glasses up and down between those shapely, smooth cheeks. He wished his tongue was in their place.
"Loved seein' me bend over the bonnet, didn't ya 'bruv?'"
Ben tugged his heavy balls as he grunted, 'yes.' He spread his legs wide, hoping Jay would see it as an invitation.
Jay slipped his foreskin back to leave sticky trails across Ben's glasses, fisting his meat until he stood rock hard. He bit his lower lip, his pale skin a contrast to the cherry red nipples Ben knew he could easily circle with his tongue, if Jay ever let him.
He groaned when Jay rested the glasses against the crown of his hardness.
"Come get 'em," he jeered.
Ben began to walk over, until Jay's stare turned even colder.
"On your knees."
Ben flushed, but complied, settling in against the carpet, crawling like a dog, his thick prick bobbing with each step.
"Now you really are a bitch," Jay laughed when Ben nearly reached him, startling Ben with a smack to the mouth, followed by rubbing his red cheek out of sympathy.
"You're my bitch..." he said, softer, sadder, at what Ben would do for him, wiping the tears of shame and sexual frustration from his submissive best mate.
Ben took the glasses off Jay's throbbing penis.
"Lick 'em clean," Jay whispered, amazed at how greedily Ben ran his fat tongue along the glasses, eager to taste the juices he'd only imagined.
As Ben finished, Jay not-so-gently pushed him flat on his back with a foot, leaving him staring up at Jay, who was staring down on him like a giant who had found his newest prey.
Ben felt his head pushed back against the carpet as Jay brushed his toes against his mouth. Ben opened enough to taste Jay's big toe, biting gently below the trimmed nail. When Jay groaned approvingly, Ben slowly began to lathe each of the five digits with his tongue, drool running down his cheeks matching the pre-cum steadily leaking down Jay's trim, hairless thighs, Ben's own thighs brushed against his hands, hands free to beat himself off and slip two fingers into the hole that was as hungry as his mouth.
"If your dad could see ya now," Jay sneered, moving back again.
Ben didn't have time to catch his breath before Jay used his long toes and big feet to turn him over, whistling at Ben's chunky arse - what Ben prized at his best feature.
He shivered as he heard Jay drop to his knees behind him, felt him blow hot air between his cheeks, then the sensation of those endless fingers, slick with spit or jizz or both, brushing against his entrance.
"Bet I could fit a tram in there..."
Ben shook his head in shame, but after the night he'd had with Jack and Paul, he couldn't say Jay was wrong.
This wasn't how he'd wanted his first time with Jay - he'd wanted to kiss him, be held by him, taste the length and width of him - but the more Jay filled his stretched hole, the more he knew this was what he needed, what he deserved. And the groan that ripped from his throat as Jay's thrusts began to hit his prostate was louder, dirtier than any he'd ever let himself do before.
Ben could swear Jay's hands were everywhere, those long fingers groping his tits, squeezing his balls to keep him from cumming, those firm hands smacking hard against his scarlet cheeks, rough-edged fingertips coated in his arse juices that were then slowly dripped down his ravenous throat. His own hands were sprawled out on the carpet, bracing himself as Jay slowly, through the controlled but brutal rhythm of his fucking, ground Ben down until his face was pressed against the fibers, his greedy arse still in the air.
He wanked himself as he humped the carpet, crying out in sheer uncontrolled bliss at the animalistic pounding of his hole. He clamped down through instinct, wanting Jay's raw load, the thing he'd most wanted for years, but also wanting to wring a response out him. A slap or another reminder of what a dirty fag he was...anything. Anything to remind him Jay had chosen him for some reason beyond a cunt waiting to be filled.
Jay ignored his silent pleas as he began coating Ben's insides, collapsing on top of him, sweat making them one as much as the cream filling Ben's hole and leaking down the backs of his legs.
Ben struggled to breathe at the extra weight on his back, grateful for the familiar fingers now gently finishing him off, coated in his latest and last load of the night. He shuddered at the strength and force of his orgasm.
Exhausted as he was, he could still feel Jay's soft kiss on the back of his neck, still appreciate Jay staying inside him instead of leaving him cold and open.
He craned his head, daring to hope for a kiss, one an equally tired Jay gave him. Sloppy and a little sad, Ben's heart fluttering at Jay's messy ginger hair in his eyes. Ben's tongue said what he would never know how to say himself as the kiss deepened until Jay pulled away to regain his breath.
Ben felt soothed by the soft palm massaging his battered bottom.
"Did you mean everything you said?" he allowed himself to ask.
Jay wiped his nose again.
"Some...the rest...like I said, I'm always what ya need me to be."
Ben pulled Jay in for another kiss, then one more, then yet another, biting his chin as they pulled away.
"I love you," he made himself say out loud, finally, even if Jay kicked him into touch.
Jay managed a laugh.
"Everybody loves me...am I right?"
Ben knew he didn't mean it, he knew Jay couldn't count on anyone anymore, not after the last year, but he he ran his sticky hands through Jay's hair for encouragement, grateful when Jay brought one of them to his lips for a gentle nip.
"I do - fuck all the rest."
Jay smiled, not as fake now.
"I can live with that."
As he collapsed on top of Ben again, he whispered a few more tender words before dozing off.
"Love me so much, means you can tell Billy why his carpet's full o'jizz."
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Lee's beefy thighs were the perfect shelf for Tom's writhing body, his gut the perfect foil for Tom's sputtering shaft as the lean paramedic rode him so hard and so fast Lee was sure the kitchen chair would break.
Jack cut off their panting moans and cries with deep wet kisses, one to the other, then sliding their mouths together to taste him as he stood back watching and tugging at himself.
Lee tasted cum from Jack's breath and tongue, eager for more, but as always Jack never let him forget who was in charge.
Lee's eyes were nearly shut as everything in him shut down to avoid blowing his full load into Tom, and likely shooting him into the ceiling. It wasn't made any better when Jack crouched behind Tom, Tom's eyes going wide as he felt Jack's thickness sliding up and down his crack, brushing against the base of Lee's shaft as his thrusts into Tom's tight arse grew more and more frenzied.
"Want a double stuffing?" Jack teased, licking the sweat dripping down Tom's stubbled neck before biting his ear.
Tom whimpered, nodding instead of speaking, too lost for words.
"Thing is," Jack grinned, naughty and nice as he gave Tom a quick kiss on the mouth, "You got that sweet boy in there ya ain't been payin' enough attention to. Been thinkin' with this," he made Tom groan by squeezing his tumescence, Lee groaning even louder as the pleasure and pain led Tom to clamp down on his horse meat. "Left him all alone in there while you have all the fun. Now that just ain't fair."
Tom was reduced to sobs at what Jack was denying him, a stranger in everything but sex, but now so important to him, that hairy, sinewy body, that cocky smirk nearly as delicious as his fat bell end, the bell end he so desperately wanted to bump against Lee's own fat crown.
"Pl-please..." he cried.
Jack shook his head, slapping Tom's toned, lightly furred stomach, making his stiffness sputter more pre-cum.
"Don't like to see a man beg. So let's just ease your mind."
Tom let out a surprised cry as Jack out of nowhere deep throated him, eager to taste his cum. Tom was more than happy to give him all he wanted and more, shooting and shooting until the fresh cum slid down Jack's chin, onto a delirious Lee's chest. Rather than swallow, Jack kept it in his mouth, Tom in heaven as his still-spurting cock was bathed in his own warm milk.
When Tom came down, he was amazed that even with his clenches and movements, Lee was still hard inside him, deep inside, stock still for fear of coming. Lee was looking at Jack in awe, licking his full lips, moaning in approval as he pulled Jack down for a cum-coated kiss, tasting everything of Tom.
A trail of beige white remained between their lips when Jack broke away, putting Lee's sausage fingers on his own hard shaft, squeezing and stroking obediently. He looked down at how close Lee was, how Lee's neck lolled back and forth, eyes back in his head, doing anything to keep going.
Tom saw him whisper something in Lee's ear. What he couldn't hear, but he soon saw Lee's response - full body tremors - heard his broken moans, felt his gallons of semen filling Tom to the brim, making him full and yet, even with wobbly legs and a collapsing body and used insides, pining for more.
"Keep it in," Jack ordered, fondly brushing his thumb over Tom's lower lip as he kissed Lee's sweaty temple.
With help, Tom slowly stood up, missing Lee's mammoth meat like an old friend, impressed and somehow not surprised that Lee was still half-hard as the sausage slapped against his beer belly.
Jack led him - by the cock and still-sensitive balls - back to Johnny's room.
"Sit on Johnny's face - give 'em a snack," Jack hissed through his teeth as they neared the room.
Tom's dick jumped at the thought of what he was about to do, feeding Johnny his brother's cum.
Jack leered at the sight, joining Tom as he woke Johnny to make a chair of his angelic, sleepy features.
"Wanna know what I told Lee?" Jack whispered in Tom's ear.
Tom, distracted by Johnny's skilled tongue cleaning him out, managed a nod.
"I asked 'im how it felt to taste his dad's and his brother's cum."
Tom never came as hard again as he did after that.
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Lee managed to rouse himself enough to get out of the chair, big dick bobbing, mind of its own, as he made his way down the hall. He heard obscene sounds from Johnny's room and Mick's, and it took everything he had not to join one of them, or both, make his fantasies a reality, but once he did, they could never go back.
Instead, he went back to his room, seeing another video from his vile workmate Oz.
He was startled by Jack's sharp smack against his jiggling bottom, his engorged meat square between Lee's sweet cheeks.
"Ready?" Jack asked, noticing some of the many unopened bills Lee had strewn around his room. He knew the way to get Lee out of debt, but he'd only want to talk after he'd finished pounding the Carter lad's arse of the gods.
"Ready," Lee answered, laying face down on the bed, spreading his cheeks for what he'd wanted from the first time he'd seen Jack freeballing in his tight work trousers. What every man in Walford desired more than they ever dared say out loud. To get plowed by Jack Branning.
Jack slapped his dick a few times, grin on his face at a desire ready to be fulfilled.
Before he got to work, he saw the video on Lee's phone - a gorgeous black man with an utterly perfect bubble butt and huge cock, degrading himself in a way that seemed like dominance and defiance, even as his dark hole was crudely exposed for the camera every time he fingered himself on his way to an eye-popping cum volcano.
Jack's cock stiffened further as he recognized the lad...knew him - and that tower between his thighs - very well indeed.
As he leaned down to feast on Lee's arse, chunky cheeks spread wide for a tongueing they'd never forget, he knew he'd have plenty to ask Lee once they were through.