Again, I should be asleep but fuck it.
this is day 5 of the 30 Day nsfw challenge : Blow Jobs
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"Oh fucking hell!" Sherlock all but screamed, his hips lifting off the duvet, his arms straining against the restraints holding him to the headboard. John hovered over him, running his splayed palm over his lover's heaving chest.
"Tut, tut, tut Mr Holmes…" he purred, tracing his hand over the restraints that also held his thighs down, a faux black leather that was padded for comfort and that could be tied to the frame of the bed, spreading his thighs. "Such blasphemy, we can't have that." He kidded, firmly stoking his lubricated hand over the underside of Sherlock's cock, making him jolt up in another bolt of pleasure.
Sherlock panted, his retrains pushing into his wrists slightly but not enough to feel uncomfortable. He grit his teeth and tore his eyes away from John's to survey his engorged, almost purpling erection in John's fist. This had been going on for almost an hour now, John giving Sherlock constant but minimal stimulation until Sherlock had been turned into this rather undignified pool of arousal, shaking and sweating and hoping John would take mercy on him.
It had been Sherlock's idea to buy the restraints in the first place; apparently it turned him on to be so helpless. 'I have almost too much control in my everyday life as it is, it would be a nice change.' He'd said and John couldn't comply quickly enough.
"Please….John…." He whined, trying his best to rotate his hips up into John's hand whilst being tied down. John licked his lips, a smirk playing on his face as he removed his hand completely off Sherlock's cock.
"Oh, you want me to stop? Well if you say so…" he teased with an infuriatingly smug smile on his face. Sherlock was never really very specific in bed and John took good advantage of that. Sherlock's brows knitted together on his sweaty forehead, groaning in frustration.
While Sherlock tried to get his brain in gear and organise the right sentence- fancy that? Sherlock Holmes speechless?- John brought his hand down to his own painfully erect cock, hissing in pleasure as he pumped himself slowly, taking in every miniscule expression on Sherlock's face.
"No, please…please John…" he begged, gasping and bucking against the ties, trying to get friction from thin air. John just continued to grin, stroking himself to the image of Sherlock- the Great Detective, Mr Punchline, an undoubtingly masculine man- squirming and writhing and whining like a whore on double pay.
The thought, and then the realisation that this thought was in fact true, made John growl low in his throat and Sherlock shuddered.
"Please what, Sherlock?" John demanded, shuddering in sympathy with Sherlock. Sherlock whined again and hid his face in the crook of his arm, still embarrassed about begging even at this stage of their relationship. "I'm waiting Sherlock…" John clipped, not dissimilar to a teacher, the effect only slightly ruined by the involuntary gasp he took as his hand twisted over the head of his cock.
"Please…please touch me…" he muttered, panting at the thought. John smiled warmly, a feeling of pride swelling in his chest.
"Good boy…" Sherlock's cock twitched and John squeezed his in response, "But I think my dominant hand is quite busy right now, let's try something else shall we?" Sherlock looked up from the crook of his arm for a second, only to roll it back against the pillow as John gently lapped at the pre-come at the head of his cock.
"Oh John, yes!" he moaned, his stomach muscles contracting with the need to buck up into John's tongue. John groaned as Sherlock's musk filled his nostrils, making his member pulse in his hand.
The doctor positioned himself on his belly, one hand thrust underneath him as it worked in slow strokes, parting his thighs slightly off the bed to allow himself more room. His propped himself on his elbow and took Sherlock's cock in his hand, Sherlock moaned again and shifted into his touch, his thigh muscles straining against the leather bonds and his toes curling into the bed sheet.
"Sherlock…" he uttered, blowing hot breath over the sensitive head of Sherlock's member. He could see the veins stand out on Sherlock's arms as he tightened his fists above him but, eventually, he brought his head off the pillow to look down at John.
"Oh shit! Oh my god!" he sobbed, unable to tear his eyes off John as he sank down onto his cock until his lips met the fist of his hand. Sherlock ground his teeth, tears stinging his eyes with the effort of keeping them open as John swiped a broad stroke up the sensitive underside of his cock, wriggling it against the frenulum as he came up again, taking a breath and repeating the action.
Sherlock wailed, unable to keep it up anymore, he let his head fall back against the pillow, rocking it from side to side and John bobbed steadily up and down on his most sensitive organ.
John moaned, feeling the vein of Sherlock's prick pulse against his tongue. He looked up to survey the beautiful view of the column of Sherlock's neck, his head thrown back against the pillow, his chest flushed and heaving.
He pumped feverishly at his own cock, moving to his knees in his desperation to allow more access. He took his mouth off Sherlock's cock and set about lavishing the head with hot caresses and swipes of his tongue, taking it into his mouth and suckling, trying to bring Sherlock to orgasm before him.
Sherlock's head swam, his eyes had been tightly shut for a while now but if he could close them any further to brace himself against such an onslaught of immense pleasure, he would have. The only sounds that left his lips were obscene noises that were between loud panting and vocal moaning, sometimes even both.
John moaned onto him again, the vibrations shooting up Sherlock's cock and bringing him closer to the edge with a sharp sob. He ran his tongue gently over the hypersensitive frenulum, conscious of the fact that too much pressure will do more to hurt Sherlock than pleasure him. Sherlock cried out jerked as best he could while being bound down, writhing and panting until, with a shout that could bring the house down, he came.
John pulled off after the first spurt, not all too fond of the taste of semen, and let it streak the bottom of his chin, neck and chest. He wasn't focused so much on that anymore anyway, he was too busy memorising the erotic moans and faces Sherlock had made as he came, pumping furiously at his cock. The pressure built and built until, finally, it released and John was hit with an euphoria in which he wasn't sure if he had moaned or not before ejaculating onto Sherlock's thighs and stomach.
He collapsed onto Sherlock's heaving chest, panting just as heavily as Sherlock was and feeling their sweat mingle almost pleasantly on each other as they came down from their orgasmic high. John lazily reached up to untie Sherlock's hands, the bounds coming away conveniently easily.
"Legs too please…" Sherlock slurred, the haze of his orgasm still clinging to his senses. John grunted slightly as he got up off Sherlock, stroking his hand down over each thigh as he untied them, making sure he was okay.
Sherlock smiled and curled up into the covers, John was soon to join him, plonking next to him with a contented sigh. Sherlock wrapped his arm around John's front and John remembered about the semen on his chest just after Sherlock put his arm in it.
"Ew…" Sherlock chuckled slightly and John laughed with him.
"Right then…" John sighed groggily, slapping Sherlock gently on the thigh, "You and I have an appointment with the shower, come on."
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