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Andy scoped out the action in the Queen Vic, sharing a sly smile with a fittie whose boyfriend was in the toilets. He knew he was a handsome man - dark hair and eyes, well-groomed beard - yet he also had the danger to him that kept the ladies - and the lads - coming back.
Aside from Buster Briggs his seemed like a quiet night, but those were the nights that ended with the most fireworks. Andy was in Walford for a reason - reasons only he knew - but that wasn't going to stop him from enjoying the show.
The fittie left the pub with her boyfriend, his big brown hand cupping her pert arse. He wished he could join them for some fun, but he knew the fella well enough to know he wasn't up for sharing.
"Free tonight?" he winked at barmaid Whitney, leaning into the bar as he did so.
"She ain't free any night," Lee, her fiance, groused, glaring at the builder as Whitney rolled her eyes and went to clear glasses.
"Just a joke. Lighten up, mate."
As he licked his lips, he was sure he saw Lee staring at them, gormlessly, before looking elsewhere.
"Take a drink on me...show I'm a decent fella." He handed Lee the cash, making sure to hold his hand just a second too long. "When I wanna be," he smiled, eyeing the gorgeous, strapping ex-soldier up and down.
Lee blushed a bright red, and Andy knew he was looking at a double-dipper. Like him. Like a lot of men around here, he was pretty sure. He wanted to do his best to find out. Information was power...and in his experience, it was also mindblowing sex.
He knew that well enough after learning some info about his fellow builder and bessie mate Linford, currently chatting up a tableful of girls. As he did, his superior posterior, wrapped in tight jeans, was currently on show to Andy, and a clearly not displeased Lee.
He'd known Linford for a year or two, going from one job to another, but had always just seen him as one of the lads...until he'd come back to their shared room early and found Linford's foster brother Vincent with Lin's legs on his broad shoulders, pounding him in a not-very-brotherly way.
Andy had wanted to join in, imagining those two big black cocks in his hot hands or on his warm tongue - or if he was high enough, maybe even in his hungry hungry arse - but he stayed hidden, knowing Vincent was not to be trifled with. He was just content to quietly shove his baggy jeans down and wank at the glories on show. Vincent's utter silence, the intensity in his bulging eyes and flaring nostrils as he yanked at his foster brother's hair, yanked his neck back to bite him, claim him, take over his entire, writhing, sweat-drenched, smooth, hard body the way he'd dominated and violated his stretched-out hole.
Yet it wasn't just sex - it was love too. The sweet, dirty words whispered so low Andy couldn't hear them. The long, soft kisses. The way Vincent's fingers traced along Linford's smooth, sweaty, perfect caramel chest and gently traced his tiny, dark nipples.
Andy resented them, even as the tenderness increased the stiffness pulsating in his rough palm, even as he licked two fingers and traced his own nipples through the white work shirt that was stained from a hard day's work, even as he lifted his arms to smell his rank pits as he pulled his pud. He resented them because no man or woman had ever shown him that type of love.
He circled his sweaty navel, tasting his thumb, then biting down on it hard as he heard Linford whisper, "Love ya bro...love ya..." as his body stilled at the onslaught of ejaculate from a writhing Vincent.
"Love you too...slag," Vincent smiled into his foster brother's long neck, licking it, along with the coats of seed Linford had left on his bare stomach and massive pecs.
Andy nearly bit his tongue off as his own load sputtered into his baggy jeans, the blue denim darkening from the large loads of a working man.
He hadn't let Linford know until a week later, in Dusseldorf, after they'd struck out with some exchange students.
"I need to get FUCKED," Linford had sighed into his pint.
Andy, knowing his mate had had a week of blue balls, whispered, "I may not be as big as your big brother, but I can give ya a good time." He'd then finished a stunned Linford's pint.
He wasn't anywhere near as sweet as Vincent - he spanked that stunning arse until it was practically red, he fucked him from behind, he choked him and humiliated him with filth talk about all Vincent cared about was a cheap, easy manhole - but Linford had wanted - needed - it. They both had their demons, and Andy was more than willing to feed the devil in order to get the best, biggest load out of himself and his partner at the time.
Back in the present day, Andy watched Linford head for the door with a hot blonde. Linford stopped to whisper in his ear.
"Her man's off work in a few hours so...why don't I stop by and give you all the dirty details..."
He rested his hand on Andy's flannel-clad shoulder as he whispered the rest.
"Ain't like you gonna be as lucky as I am tonight anyway."
Andy saw the Carter lad - the other one, the twinkie one - staring up at them from his books.
"Yeah. Alright. Now fuck off," he muttered to Linford, jovially.
He raised his pint glass to Johnny, who looked at him with innocent hunger. Andy knew that type - sweet in the streets and deadly in the sheets. If Andy hadn't had so many plans, among which were not pissing off the Carter clan that seemed to take up half of Walford, he would have tested just how nasty a boy sweet little Johnny Carter was.
He DID have plans for Martin, stupid, bumbling, gorgeous Martin, who was currently doing his level best not to make any eye contact with Johnny, and therefore making it clear to anyone who was paying attention the way Andy was that he had either shagged him senseless or was desperate to give it a try.
Then there was Kush, hovering over Martin for a strained drink and chat. Andy knew they'd once been best mates, and now barely spoke. He didn't know why - aside from figuring it had to do with Martin's missus-to-be Stacey, judging by the way she flinched every time Kush's muscular arse cheeks clenched their way down the market - but he knew it was something else to exploit, to get Martin out of the way.
"Pint?" he asked a bleary-eyed Martin.
"Nah...think I've had enough."
Andy shrugged, handing the drink to Kush instead, who was well on his way to joining the wobbling Fowler into intoxication.
"Got some work for ya."
Martin sobered up at that.
"Really?"
Andy nodded.
"It's with photogs."
Martin had recently had a bad experience, tricked into using his face and bare chest for a stripping website, so Andy jumped in with the rest.
"And it's legit. Look 'em up."
Andy wasn't lying. They sold professional, classy images to catalogs. What he wasn't mentioning was that if the photographer talked sweet enough or offered up enough dosh, there were...less classy images that would be sold to horny, desperate lads - and a fair few lasses - on porn sites all around the world.
Martin's eyes hooded as he paused for thought.
"Yeah?"
Andy nodded.
"Yeah. Only thing is..."
He looked over at Kush, still watching them.
"Might need ya to practice at home. Test shots. Just your pecs - or maybe yer pants. Betcha fill those out mighty nice."
Martin blushed.
"Can't say I've had any complaints."
Andy smirked. God was he hot...stupid, but hot.
"Thing is - might be the best night for ya to try, with Stace and the kids away."
Martin paused again.
"Don't have a camera."
Andy laughed.
"Just use your mobile."
Martin looked down at his empty pint.
"It's shit. Barely makes calls."
Better and better.
This was where, if he wasn't wary of getting too involved - not yet, anyway - he would've volunteered, but he had better plans.
"Bet Kush has a great phone. Why doncha ask him?"
Martin's eyes filled with tears.
"I-I can't."
Andy needed to know the whole story on that one. Someday.
"Not even for Stace? For your kids?"
Martin swallowed hard. Andy had him.
"Alright. I'll do it. Just - just one more round."
Andy flashed the cash, handing it to a suspicious Kush and winking at him before he headed out the door.
As Andy breathed in the cool night air, and the residue of smoke, he saw someone, dark as the night, sprinting by, then crouching next to a brick wall.
He waited a moment before slowly making his way. This might be interesting...
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Johnny studied Kush, brooding at the barstool next to him, nearly as much as he studied his law books. Probably more, if he was honest. He knew from his nights with Martin, the nights Martin would drift to sleep with his soft, soppy cock still nestled between Johnny's well-fucked cheeks, that Martin wanted Kush. He'd moan his name in some private sex fantasy Johnny wished he could be a part of, although sometimes he'd just ride a sleeping Martin's awakening shaft and pretend he was in on the fun.
Kush had such elegant features - dark wavy hair, a gorgeous mouth, dark eyes that seemed warm until you saw the guardedness underneath. He took Johnny's breath away. He reminded Johnny a bit of his ex, Gianluca, but more dangerous.
He'd been staring at Kush's full lips a bit too long, imagining them sliding up and down his throbbing dick, when Kush, alcohol heavy on his breath, confronted him.
"No'fense, but it's a sin, mate."
Johnny's stare turned hard and cold. He'd never hurt anyone in his life. He'd had a tough time accepting who he was and now he was just trying to reap the benefits - the benefits being a lot of cock and arse. He would have said something back, but he was too scared of confrontation.
Instead, he went to the toilets, embarrassed as he unzipped his skinny black jeans and realized the bigotry had made him just about rock hard.
He closed his eyes, willing it to go down, but there was no chance of that when he felt fat fingers wrapped around his fat shaft, and heard and smelled boozy whispered nothings in his ear.
"Love this place," Martin said, pulling Johnny back by the curls for an open-mouthed kiss. "Love these toilets."
Johnny groaned into his warm mouth, shuddering at the meaty hands pawing under his jumper.
"Mum'll be pleased...she redecorated 'em."
Martin grinned.
"S'our secret. Not ours ours...me and the other ours. We love toilets."
Johnny had no idea who he meant, or if Martin even knew. The only thing he noticed was the huge lump in Martin's jeans.
"Let's be quick," Johnny said, popping open the button fly he had so much practice with and smiling at the sight of the lime green briefs he'd left behind.
"Wore 'em for ya," Martin blushed.
They were so tight on Martin, only further showcasing his thick girth, currently drooling against the cotton, and highlighting his beefy thighs.
Rather than spoil the show, Johnny just began a stroke session through the cotton.
"Oh fuck..." Martin mouthed as he clumsily palmed Johnny's hardness, Johnny lifting his shirt enabling him to palm his flat stomach and toy with his easily aroused nipples.
"You're bigger than he was..." Martin bit into Johnny's long neck, "but he had a better arse," he finished, squeezing Johnny's supple cheeks as he did so.
"You're all charm," Johnny replied, squeezing the base of Martin's thick prick to make him moan in pain and pleasure. He almost wanted to know who this mystery fella was, but sometimes it was better not to know.
Martin pulled him close for another kiss, with the feel of his cum-heavy, slick dick sliding against Martin's tight white top and tighter green pants making him dizzy. He rested his head on Martin's broad shoulder, licking the sweat running down his face, sharing it with his lover.
He had a flash and quickly stuck his ready-to-burst pipe inside Martin's - his and Martin's - briefs, shaft right next to Martin's in the tight fabric.
"Ohh Goodddddd..." Martin shouted, noisy as ever during sex. Johnny laughed shoved four fingers in his mouth, hoping no one heard them. His other hand wrapped around Martin's plump arse. The things he'd done to that arse...and wanted to do...
The friction made them both clench their teeth, their turgid shafts on top of each other, jostling and straining, pre-cum coating the path.
Johnny didn't want to come first, but he had little choice in the matter when the toilet door opened and none other than Kush was standing at the door...stunned into silence.
Rather than let a drunk, confused Martin know - or ruin the incredibly fuck high they were both about to have, Johnny instead stared right at Kush, smugly, and spread Martin's hairy cheeks wide open, giving a prime view of a hole he knew better than his own.
Two cum-wet fingers shoved inside were all Martin needed, and he moaned obscenities into Johnny's ear as they both lost their loads. An aching series of explosions, coating the green pants in a sea of gray and white.
Johnny grabbed Martin's head for a sloppy, sweaty kiss, not caring that Kush was now gone, but caring enough to remember Kush had had a big lump in his black jeans as he'd left.
He sank to his knees, kissing Martin's half-hard shaft through the gooey cotton.
"Ruined your pants..." Martin managed through heavy breaths.
"Let's get 'em clean then," Johnny replied, grinning like a slut as he swiped the underwear with his tongue, gently nuzzling Martin's shaft through his foreskin as he did so.
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Kush couldn't believe what he'd just seen. Johnny Carter, who was always called so kind and sweet and innocent, had seduced Martin. His Martin. His mate. A decent bloke, a straight bloke, a proper bloke, was just some...some pawn in some gay sex game.
He didn't have a problem with gay people, but not when they were making eyes at him...or fellas he cared about.
He'd taken a few blow jobs from queer blokes, when he'd been drunk enough, but that was strangers out of town. Not in Walford, where anybody could know. Johnny didn't seem to get that. And now Johnny was all over Martin. Martin. That dirty grin and the way he had his hands all over Martin...groping him...displaying him, all crude, like Martin was a whore.
Martin was better than that. Kush had already hurt him so much by sleeping with Stacey, and now Martin had fallen into some sorta gay trap. If any fella was going to touch Martin, make him feel good, it should be him. Kissing his hairy stomach, holding his thick thighs over his shoulders as he dove deep into that tight hole...
He shook his head, not wanting to think about that right now, trying to will away the erection glued to his left thigh, embarrassingly noticeable.
As he stood near the toilet door, chewing his lower lip, Mick came by on the way to the kitchen.
"Hey, hey - Mick," Kush said, frantically.
"Hey, hey, Kush," Mick replied, confused.
"Your son's servicing men in the toilets."
Mick scratched his beard.
"Well I didn't think it would be ladies."
Kush glared.
"It's not funny. It's wrong."
Mick shrugged.
"Yeah. I'll have a word."
Kush shook his head, agitated.
"He's preying on innocent men. He's sick."
Mick's eyes turned cold and dead, and before Kush could say another word, he was shoved against the wall, Mick's arm against his sculpted chest.
"Watch yer mouth."
Before Kush could interrupt, Mick kept going.
"Martin ain't no rosie posie...he knows just what he wants. Truth is, he's had both me boys."
Kush's eyes went wide, and to his embarrassment, his prick jumped, and Mick's smug grin said he felt it, as his meaty thighs, wrapped in tight blue denim, were nestled against Kush's muscular calves.
"I'm probably next - or you, way he stares at your bits an'bobs."
Kush turned red. He'd seen Martin staring at him for months, hugs lingering too long, arm around shoulder, kissing his cheek when drunk...breathing Kush in. That was just - that was lads though. Mates. But now...
His thoughts were interrupted when he felt Mick's beard burn against his chin and cheeks, his tongue pressing for entrance. He was stunned by Mick's kiss, the insistent tenderness of it. He gave in, fully, his hands going to Mick's thick waist, clinging to Mick's blue waistcoat.
He was disappointed when Mick pulled away, grinning cruelly.
"Now THAT was preyin' on a straight fella..."
He looked at Kush's denim dick, rock hard from the kiss.
"Then again," he taunted, giving the younger man a good squeeze before wiping his mouth and finally going to the kitchen.
Kush was humiliated, but so turned on. He needed to find some hot pussy and get away from his own confused thoughts - desires.
Unfortunately the pub was free of ladies, aside from hellish Aunt Babe grinning at everyone, so he instead left to get some fresh air.
He'd nearly made it back to his flat when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to see a confused Martin.
"Where'd ya go?"
Martin looked so sad. Kush wondered if he was the reason, and if so, just what the reason was.
He pushed that down, instead throwing an arm around Martin's shoulder.
"Had enough karaoke."
Martin laughed.
"Yeah. Listen - Andy needs me to take some test shots. Can ya help?"
Kush stared.
"Nothin' porn...just pants, topless."
He'd seen Martin half-naked before, so it shouldn't bother him, but that was different. That was before so much had happened tonight.
"Sure," Kush said, nervously, as they went to his empty flat.
Martin swiped a beer from the fridge, handing another to Kush. Kush promptly downed his in a few swigs.
"Woah. Alkie."
"Fuck off," Kush laughed, glad for the kick to ease his nerves.
"Right. Lighting's good here, I guess," Martin said, confused on how photography worked. "Or maybe I should go on the bed."
Before Kush could stop him, Martin went into the bedroom, and cleared off the bed - always so big now that Kush's wife Shabnam was long gone.
"Rank," Martin joked as he picked up a pair of Kush's tight black pants. He stared at Kush's lower half, clearly imagining how they draped Kush's body.
"Martin," Kush said, drunk enough to say it, "You sure about...about marryin' Stacey?"
Martin crumpled the pants in his hand, fuming.
"No no no no. I...I want ya to marry her if that's what ya want, but..."
Martin looked down, finishing his own beer.
"I love Stacey. Wanna be her husband, dad to her kids."
As he doffed his top, tight and white with a silly reindeer (the closest he could find to a stag) on the front, he stumbled. Kush rushed forward to keep him from falling.
"There for me when I need ya," Martin smiled through bleary eyes, planting a soft kiss on Kush's lips.
"Soz..." he said when he realized what he'd done.
Kush knew he should be angry, but it had been sweet. Good. He wanted more and hated himself for wanting more.
He sat on the bed, hair-dusted pecs on show as he hugged his stomach, lost in thought and doubt.
"I know I ain't good enough for 'er, but it ain't as hard to deal with lately. Sorta got - dunno, new ways of copin'."
He smiled at that, like a dirty secret smile. One Kush knew all too well.
"Like Johnny and Lee Carter?" he said before he could stop himself.
Martin looked like he'd looked the night Kush had decked him. So hurt and so angry at the same time.
"Yeah," he spat, fuming. "Like them. So what?"
He laughed.
"Oh, I get it. This is your chance. Tell Stace all about dumb Martin and the Carter cocks...clear the path for you and her and yer kid."
Kush shook his head, moving toward Martin, clasping his shoulders, trying not to see how Martin stared at him with as much desire as hatred.
"Arthur's your son, not mine. Not in the ways that count. And I'm not gonna tell Stace. I just want you to be sure. I want you to - want ya to think it's right."
Martin scrunched up his nose, wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands.
"I am...alright? I wanna marry her. I just - I need more. I need to know somebody really wants me. Somebody it's easy and fun with."
Kush sighed.
"There's one other thing," he began, too drunk to have the filter for restraint.
"Yeah?" Martin snapped.
"Is it true you - you want me too?" Kush asked, hating that he had some trace of hope in his voice.
Martin wiped his eyes again, laughing. Kush would never forget the defeated look in his eyes.
"Yeah," Martin repeated, soft, broken. "Dunno why, after what you did to me, but I still do."
Before Kush could respond, Martin stood up on wobbly legs, and began to unfasten his jeans.
"If you wanna know the real truth, mate - all I want is for ya to come inside ME the way you came inside HER."
Jeans left on the ground, he crawled onto the bed, onto Kush's bed on all fours, showing off the hole Kush had had a glimpse of earlier.
"C'mon. Fuck me. Please Kush. Please."
Kush moaned at the sight of the exposed hole, winking at him.
"Fuck me like a best mate should."
Kush reached for the buckle of his belt, the clanking suddenly being the loudest sound in the world.
He knew what he had to do...
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Andy was still trailing the other man, discreetly. He got a closer look as the street lamps hit the tracksuit-wearing stranger. He was a black man - handsome, with eyes and features softer than he probably wished. Andy imagined sinking his teeth into the full lips, wringing the secrets out of the horse meat barely contained by his track bottoms.
He nearly jumped to the sky when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
He turned to see a confused Linford.
"Didn't shower, so ya could taste 'er..."
Andy cut him off with a tonsil-cleaning kiss, not wanting his subject to hear anything or anyone.
When Linford caught his breath, he stared over the corner, realizing what Andy had been doing. Andy was surprised at what Linford whispered in his ear (in-between bites against his lobe).
"I know him. That's Jordan Johnson. Works for Vince."
Andy smirked. That meant he took it up the arse. Any fit fellas who 'worked' with Vincent always did.
"Why doncha go say your greetings...and drop his mobile on the ground for good ol' Andy."
Linford looked unsure.
"Then I'll come along in a bit and we'll double team his juicy bum the way it was meant to be. Right?"
Linford smiled, kissing his fuck buddy on the side of the head.
Andy hung back, in case Jordan got angry and Linford needed backup, but any brief hesitation was soon replaced by heavy breathing and wandering hands. By the time they staggered back to one of the empty construction sites, the only thing left was Jordan's burner phone.
Andy picked it up, looking through names and numbers. And then to photos, and...
His jaw fell at the same time as his dick rose.
The start of a video - middle of it, really - with Jack bloody Branning, wearing nothing but a chest carpet, putting bare-arsed Ben Mitchell on a collar and leash.
He laughed, a hand fumbling into his jeans even as he saved the video to his own phone. He was going to have to know the full, vivid story and watch the video many, many times...