I was never into watersports. At all. I still am not? But I did this solo-write sequel anyway? Also, previous disclaimer about not condoning this in real life in any way still applies.
Shota Disclaimer: To me, as a young teen getting into my first fandom, and even now as an adult, there has always been a difference between 'Shota' (which I found/find acceptable) and 'Pedophilia' (which I found/find unacceptable and did/do not condone). This disclaimer is not the place to get into those differences, however, so I shall simply say that, no matter how you view the two terms and the differences between them, shota does contain sexual content between a pre-/pubescent boy and another person, one who is typically an adult, but can be a person of the same or lesser age; the term for the opposite genre (girl) is 'loli/ta'. If you personally know someone who has engaged in sexual activities with a child, whether you were the engager, the victim, or a bystander, please report them to a trusted authority immediately. No matter how shota/loli is written, no matter how informed the shota/loli's character consent is in-fic, real children are not capable of the same consent. That said, please enjoy this fictional work.
Originally posted to AO3 on 2014-11-17.
Sherlock had to piss more than he ever had, but John's lips were still wrapped around the head of his half-hard cock.
"I have to urinate, baby. You have to release me," he murmured, attempting to cajole his little boy off of him. John made an annoyed sound and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's leg as his mouth slid a little further onto his papa's penis.
"Baby, wake up," he tried again, running his fingers through the little boy's hair. One bleary blue eye opened and he smiled warmly. "There you are. Papa needs to urinate. You need to get off, John."
The blue eye kept contact with him for a moment more before the little blond head shook in disagreement and the eye closed again. The need was ignorable, and he was barely holding the urge at bay.
"John," he said warningly, feeling his control splinter and fall away. One little hand released his leg and he thought the little boy would actually release him. But then chubby fingers whispered over his side, right where John knew he was ticklish, and he couldn't hold it back any longer.
He couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief as the restraint on his bladder was lifted and the urine flowed freely. But rather than into a toilet where it belonged, it went right into his little boy's mouth. And as he watched that little throat move and work, he realised it was going right down John's throat too.
His half-erection tried to swell to full size, but he was still pissing, and how was John keeping up with it all? But his beautiful baby boy did just that, swallowing it all and not letting a drop slip free.
When he was finally done, his erection swelled to full size and he grasped the base, beginning to stroke it in wild, short strokes. The sight of John swallowing without a grimace or complaint, the idea of John making him piss down his baby's throat, had him so aroused that he was coming in seconds.
The first spurt made it into John's mouth, but then Sherlock pulled his cock free, still stroking to draw out his orgasm. Several white ropes landed across his little boy's face: lips, cheeks, over one eye. As the orgasm faded, he stroked harder, quicker, trying to keep it going as he shoved his erection back into John's mouth, grasping the back of the blond head to get at least the tip of his cock into his baby's throat, come following the urine from before straight into his little boy's belly.
Finally, the aggressive grip on his cock was nothing but pain, and he slowed his strokes before pulling his hand back entirely. John's face was a mess, lips swollen, dripping with come, but no piss in sight. It was as if it had never happened, but Sherlock's empty bladder told him it had, as if the mental photographs he'd taken and hung up in his Mind Palace weren't enough.
Before he could gather the energy to go wet a cloth for John's face, little fingers swiped through the come before disappearing into a small mouth. They came out clean a moment later, and then repeated the process. When it was finished, Sherlock was laying relaxed, and John was kneeling just in front of him, tiny cock standing at attention.
"Thank you for breakfast, Papa," John murmured, sly little smile stretching his small mouth. Against all odds, Sherlock felt a throb of lust in his cock and he began to swell. Again. He moaned low in his throat and practically tackled his little boy. Perhaps they were overdue for a day in.
FIN
Reblog the thing (themadkatter13fanfiction tumblr, post/104290877108). :3 Tschüß~