"Please, John," Sherlock gasped, his voice deep and scratchy with need. "I'm ready."
John ran a soothing hand down his sweat-damp back, Sherlock curling up into his touch like a cat. He loved seeing Sherlock in this state. So aroused and responsive, totally focussed on the moment and the sensations John was immersing him in.
Sherlock was breathtakingly gorgeous like this. Completely naked, his ivory skin smooth and perfect, a little flushed in places. His hair mussed from when they were kissing in the kitchen, before moving to the bedroom. His knees spread wide on the sheets, giving John the best access he could.
John ran his hands over the pleasing roundness of Sherlock's ass. It was one of the things he found most attractive on his flatmate. Sherlock knew it, wearing tight trousers perfectly tailored to show it off.
Now, Sherlock wiggled under John's touch. "John, John... please," he moaned, pressing back towards him.
John had prepped him thoroughly, with lots of lube and working his fingers in slowly. He teased Sherlock lots, occasionally stroking his cock or rubbing more firmly on his prostrate. Working him up to this perfect, almost delirious state of desire.
Now, he eased in slowly, knowing Sherlock would take the first few inches easily, but the rest would be much harder. He didn't want to overwhelm Sherlock, have him think it was too much. The thickness was the initial challenge, and John made sure he was well lubed, using shallow thrusts as Sherlock relaxed more and more. He wanted it, pushing back against John, groaning at the intense sensations.
"You're doing so good, baby. You feel so hot and tight," John said, pressing a few kisses on Sherlock's upper back.
They both moaned when the thickest part was in. John stilled, marvelling at the feeling, letting Sherlock adjust to it as well. "That's it. You are taking it so well."
Sherlock shuddered beneath him, his ass tightening around John in a way that made him want to move fast and hard. Thrusting into him, pounding into him, seeing how much he could take. Make him cum fast and hard.
John took a deep breath, calming that urge, and slowly turned his hand, rocking it from side to side. It moved within Sherlock's well-lubed ass, pressing against his prostrate, bringing out more shudders of pleasure and a bit of a keening moan.
Taking it as a good sign, John continued with small movements, playing around, seeing what Sherlock responded to the most. He hadn't done this with many people before, and it was Sherlock's first time, so he was still learning what worked best.
After a few minutes of that, John curled his fingers towards his palm, making a firm fist. "Can you feel that, Sherlock? My whole hand inside you? Do you want me to fuck you with it?"
Sherlock moaned, his head hanging down as he pushed back towards John. "Fuck. Yes, yes, John," he begged breathlessly.
This was the part John loved the most. Small movements of his fist, pushing slightly deeper, pulling back, twisting, rocking. Pressing firmly against his prostrate and hearing Sherlock's grunt of pleasure. Building up a rhythm. The hardest part, working his hand inside, was done, and now it was playtime. He soon learned what Sherlock liked best, and concentrated on that.
Sherlock was panting hard, his body tensing up as he got closer and closer to the edge. He dropped his head to his pillow, resting the weight of his upper body on to his forearms, rocking back against John's thrusts. "Yes, yes...," he moaned.
John loved the view, the obscene, raunchy sight of his hand up Sherlock's tight ass, stretched snugly around his wrist, dripping with lube. The wet squelch sounds mixing with their panting, and the creaking of the bed. Good sex was noisy and a bit nasty, and he loved that Sherlock was just totally surrendering to it all. Completely in the moment and loving it.
With his other hand, John cupped Sherlock's cock, stroking fast with lots of lube. He knew the signs, knew Sherlock was close, and just wanted it to be great for him. "That's it, baby. Give it to me."
Sherlock's whole body tightened up, his back arching upwards. John almost cried out at how tight his ass was around his hand, but just pressed firmly against his prostrate, stroking even faster with his other hand. Sherlock came hard, groaning, shuddering all over, a huge load spurting out on to towel beneath him.
John eased up, stroking him until the end, and letting go. He straightened out the fingers of his other hand slowly, easing out.
Sherlock dropped down on to the bed, still breathing hard, sweaty and flushed. His limbs were slack and completely relaxed now, in a way John rarely saw him.
Grabbing a damp facecloth, John cleaned up his hands and Sherlock as well as he could. Most of the lube was mopped up anyways. They could take a hot bath later on.
John stretched out beside Sherlock. His breathing was back to normal, his eyes closed. "Are you OK?"
Sherlock opened his eyes about halfway. "After that? I will be OK for a month," he purred with very naughty grin.
"I'm glad you liked it. We can't do it too often, or course, but it's-"
He was cut off by Sherlock moving, his intent clear. Within a minute, he was pinned down and Sherlock was taking him in his mouth.
John had been hard for what felt like ages, so into pleasuring Sherlock, to make the experience as good as he could. His erection had faded a little, but quickly came back completely. He groaned, clutching at Sherlock's head as he sucked and licked.
Sherlock moved off, stroking him as he moved his talented mouth to his balls, taking them inside. John was soon arching off the bed, panting in pleasure.
"Fuck my mouth," Sherlock said, glancing up at John under the fringe of his messy hair.
With his hands still on Sherlock's head, John followed his request. This was one of his favourite things, knowing he didn't have to hold back, that Sherlock could take it all. He sucked and flicked his tongue as John thrust into his mouth, getting closer and closer. He came hard, pushed in all the way. Sherlock took it all, swallowing it down.
John was the one lying boneless and panting as Sherlock grabbed a towel to clean up.
He smirked as he cuddled along John's side. "I love doing that with you."
"You are so good at it," John said, leaning in for a kiss.
It was something John had never expected, when things became sexual with Sherlock. He had always been focused on his partner's pleasure, and was extremely good at oral sex.
He had gotten his reputation in the army as 'Three Continents Watson' because of it. Many of his female partners said they had never had good oral sex before, as most men didn't really understand the female body. He took his time, learning what each woman liked, and took great pleasure in giving her orgasm after orgasm. He usually would just stroke himself as they came, getting off on it.
It was even easier with men, doing the things that he liked and just fine tuning it to each guy. He got good at sucking cock, and occasionally bottomed with the guys he liked the most.
He had learned the hard truth as a teenager, in those first intense make out sessions with girls from his school. It had been in the years before the internet and the porn he had seen was mostly just pictures of naked women. Things progressed to dry humping and eventually his zipper being undone. It felt wonderful, a small hand wrapped around his hard dick, but then things seemed to grind to a halt.
From then on, after rugby practices, he would check out other men in the showers. He looked the same. Eventually on a drunk night, a friend explained it all. John was not a grower. His erect penis got slightly thicker, but did not change much in length. From then on, he kept sex focussed on his partner, hiding his cock from direct view and wandering hands. He developed his techniques.
He had several long term girlfriends when he had eventually let them explore him more fully. They had been kind, giving him head or an occasional fuck, but he could tell they weren't really into it. Doing it out of duty mostly. Instead, he used his mouth, hands and toys to keep them satisfied, and quickly took care of himself.
...
It had been a few days after Christmas. They were staying at the Holmes country house, an hour out of the city. John didn't mind Sherlock's parents, but Sherlock needed breaks from being around them so much. They ended up bundling up to go on a long walk. It started snowing, big fluffy flakes, and John's breath had caught just watching Sherlock staring upwards in wonder. Snowflakes were landing on his dark curls, his face, his long, dark coat.
Sherlock had turned just then, and seen the look on John's face before he could change it to a more neutral one. His eyes widened, and he seemed to freeze in shock.
John let out a chuckle, drawn towards him. "Sorry, just ignore me. I'm in a funny mood," John said, a weak excuse.
Sherlock's eyes clearly showed he didn't believe a word of it, and John's smile faded.
Reaching out, John brushed some snow from his cheek. Sherlock's breath caught at the light touch, and he closed his eyes. John slid his hand into his hair, holding him in place as he leaned in for a kiss.
Sparks were there right away, even if it was a bit awkward at first. Sherlock hadn't kissed anyone for a long time. John was quite expert at it, stepping closer and tilting Sherlock's face to the perfect angle. Arms wrapped tight around each other, they shared kiss after kiss on that snowy lane.
John eventually pulled back, taking Sherlock's hand as they walked back to the house. They sat close together after that, on the sofa as they sipped tea to warm up. John wanted more but didn't want to scare Sherlock, or screw up their friendship.
Sherlock took a throw and dropped it over them. His hand found John's under the covers, holding it, their own little secret. John appreciated the need to appear normal in front of his family during this visit. They'd have time to explore things more when they got home. He was just happy Sherlock was wanting to stay in contact too.
...
By the time they got to Baker St after New Years, John was feeling excited yet a bit scared. "So, are we doing this? Taking this next step in our relationship?"
Sherlock pulled him down to the sofa, cupping John's head to pull him in for a kiss. They had stolen many private moments to do this the last few days. "What is the next step?"
Feeling very distracted by the kiss, John blinked a few times before he could answer. "Um, well, being in a romantic relationship, I guess."
He had never done this before, with a friend. They really didn't need to date to get to know each other, did they? What should they do next?
"What would that involve?" Sherlock asked, his eyes going down to John's lips in a most distracting way.
John resisted kissing him again. They needed to talk it out. "Um, well, being exclusive. Not dating other people-"
"Hardly a problem in my side," Sherlock scoffed.
Arching an eyebrow, John pinned him with steady gaze. "What about Irene Adler? Something was going on between you." It had bothered him like crazy, and he had been so jealous. Counting those stupid moaning text alerts.
Sherlock just smirked at him. "She's into women. I'm gay."
"But still, if we did this," John waved a hand between them, "you can't do stuff like that anymore. OK?"
"You did act up when Irene or Janine were around," Sherlock purred, kissing along John's jaw. "But I was just as bad when you were dating somebody, doing everything I could to disrupt your dates."
John chuckled, tilting his head to give him better access. "It's good to have you finally admit it. It would also mean doing more of this, as long as you are comfortable with it."
That had Sherlock pulling back, his eyes searching John's. "You would be willing to be in an exclusive relationship with me with only kissing? No sex?" He seemed surprised.
"Yes. No sex or as much as you want. I just want to be with you," John said, and meant it. He hasn't dated anyone for a few months. Maybe it was a part of getting older, and not needing sex as much. He could take care of his own needs.
Sherlock nodded, clearly thinking it over. "Thank you for that. I haven't been with anyone for so long, I'm not sure what I want."
"Let's take it slow. We can figure this out together," John said, breathing a bit harder as Sherlock moved back to kissing near his ear.
"Would lying together on my bed be going too fast?" Sherlock said softly.
John's breathing got even quicker at that. "Um, no, not at all."
They got up, John taking Sherlock's hand, something they had done lots the last few days. On their walks, under the table at meals, under a blanket on the sofa. But this was different, heading to Sherlock's bedroom together.
Sherlock released John's hand. "OK if we mostly undress?" His hand was already on his shirt buttons.
John felt his mouth go dry. Aroused, but also nervous. Sherlock obviously wanting more than just an intense make-out session. "Yes, of course."
He stripped down to his black boxer briefs, watching as Sherlock did the same. He had seen much of Sherlock's body over the years, treating him for injuries and when he traipsed around the flat in just a sheet. But never like this, knowing soon he'd be allowed to really touch and explore him.
They pulled back the covers, laying down, and turned to face each other. John moved first, kissing Sherlock and pushing his hands into his hair. It quickly became more intense than the other times they had kissed, and John pulled back, breathing fast already. They had amazing chemistry and he didn't want to overwhelm Sherlock. Take it too fast.
Sherlock pushed him on to his back, his eyes gleaming. "Can I touch you? Everywhere? I've been wanting to for so long."
Fuck. John closed his eyes at those words, feeling a surge of pure desire shoot through him. "Yes, anywhere," he replied, his voice a bit strangled.
He kept his eyes closed, feeling Sherlock trace lightly over his skin. It was thorough, those fingertips making John feel more alive, sensitized, with every area he touched. Sherlock seemed to map out his body, and John was sure he was cataloguing it all.
"Can I kiss you? Everywhere?" Sherlock asked.
John was breathing faster from all this attention already, and he let out a small moan. "Yes, yes, Sherlock. You can do anything you want."
He had never expected this, Sherlock taking the lead. He thought he would be the one making Sherlock comfortable, like a shy virgin or something. But it made sense. Sherlock was satisfying his curiosity about John's body, in a way a friend couldn't.
But Sherlock didn't just kiss. He licked, he sucked, he bit. John writhed underneath him, not holding back his responses. He could tell Sherlock was learning him, seeing what drew out the most reaction, and trying it other places. He learned that soft, dry kisses worked best when moving up his arms. Light bites along his inner thighs. And his nipples got rock hard when he sucked and licked them.
That last action had John grabbing Sherlock's head, and shifting down to kiss him. Harder, deeper than he had before. A really sexual kiss. Open mouths, panting against each other. His tongue teasing in, pleased when Sherlock reciprocated.
"It's my turn now, alright?" John asked, knowing he'd have to check in with Sherlock a lot.
"Um, OK," Sherlock said, shifting to lie on his back. "But I should warn you. I'm not as responsive as other people. I'm not as sexual. Maybe it's low hormones or just the way I am."
John nodded. "I won't do anything you haven't done with me, OK? Just exploring your body. Getting to know what you like."
Sherlock agreed, but John could see he was a little tense. It was harder to lie back and be the passive partner sometimes, giving up control. John felt honoured that Sherlock felt comfortable enough to allow him to do this. He had been wanting to touch Sherlock forever too.
He started with his neck, kissing slowly all over it, like he had wanted to for ages. By the time he kissed Sherlock's collarbone, he was already breathing faster, and shifting restlessly on the bed. John claimed his arms next, stroking his smooth skin, kissing down along it. Licking the thin skin of his inner elbow, feeling the pulse beneath his lips jump. Massaging his hands, those long fingers.
It had almost become more of a massage by the time he moved to Sherlock's legs. Stroking over his skin, the light amount of hair there compared to the rest of his body, kneading lightly into his muscles. His legs were long, and strong, from all the running he did around London.
He took his time on his scars, remembering treating most of them during their years together. He pressed a soft apologetic kiss to the bullet scar near his heart, and his eyes met Sherlock's. He gave a little nod, and John continued on.
"Would you roll over?" John asked gently. Sherlock had explored his shoulder scars thoroughly, and he wanted to do the same for his back. In a way, allowing these marks from the past to be touched in such an intimate way was a way of accepting the other's past. Acknowledging it. Knowing how bad it had been, how painful, and showing they weren't bothered by it.
John touched the scars, and then kissed them all. Sherlock had been tense at first, but by the end, he was relaxed, and breathing harder. John loved his reactions, his small moans and gasps.
Kneeling between Sherlock's legs, John kissing and stroking all over his back, just lost in it. Sherlock shifted a bit underneath him, and John lost his balance a bit, falling against his ass. Even though they were both wearing underwear, they both froze. John was hard, and he was sure Sherlock could feel it.
He was about to scramble off him, kneeling again, when Sherlock rocked upwards, pressing back against John. He moaned himself, pushing back. They started rocking together. John's hands went to Sherlock's hips, dry humping against him, kissing against his back. Sherlock was moaning softly, his hips moving too. John realized he was rocking against the bed, and shifted to be in even tighter contact.
After all that build up, it wasn't long before Sherlock was shuddering and moaning beneath him. John came seconds after that, pressed hard against Sherlock's beautiful ass.
He rolled off, breathing hard, and Sherlock shifted to lie on his back too. "Um, are you OK?"
Sherlock chuckled, tugging at his pants. "Yes, except for this."
"I haven't done that since I was a teenager," John laughed along with him.
"It's never happened to me before," Sherlock said. "I think I'd like to clean up. How about a shower?"
"Um, together?" John asked, a little stunned. Again, things happening faster than he ever expected with Sherlock.
Sherlock got up. "Yes, if you are comfortable with that," he said, chuckling, and held out his hand to John.
John rolled his eyes at Sherlock throwing his own comments back at him, and took Sherlock's hand. He felt the familiar nervousness of being fully naked with a new partner for the first time. It was a bit of a relief that it was after they had just orgasmed, since it would be OK to be soft. Unerect, he looked like other men. Should he say something now? Warn Sherlock what to expect?
He didn't have much time to ponder it before they were under the hot water. Wet soapy hands were going everywhere, even less inhibited after what had just happened. John felt comfortable with this, knowing he was pretty fit. Sherlock spent a lot of time on his scar, and John reciprocated. The light was better here, and they took their time. John liked feeling Sherlock's hands on his slick skin.
They towelled off and changed the bedsheets, cuddling together under the covers.
...
John awoke to bliss. A warm body pressed along his own, an arm draped over his chest, and lips planting teasing kisses against his neck. John moaned softly, shifting closer.
"Oh good," came a baritone whisper close to his ear, "you are finally awake."
"Um-" John started sleepily, turning his head. His words were cut off by a deep kiss.
Sherlock was definitely more alert than John. His hands were running over his body as the kisses continued, becoming more bold.
Before John's sluggish brain could catch up, Sherlock was pushing his hand into his pants.
"Oh, I-" John started, stumbling over what to say. He normally had time to prepare what to say, how to explain to a new lover, give them a warning. He hadn't with Sherlock yet, and tensed up defensively. How would he react?
Like most men, John usually woke up with morning wood. A nice firm erection that he often indulged with a good wank. A good way to start the day. Today was no exception, his cock stiff.
Sherlock's hand cupped over him fully, and John jolted at the sensation. It had been a long time since someone had touched him there. He closed his eyes, resisting the urge to push up against that warm hand. It was a confusing jumble of sensations and emotions. Lust, arousal, need against shame and embarrassment. Wanting to pull away, at the same time he wanted to get closer.
Before John could decide anything, Sherlock's hand was rubbing over the head, precum making his hand slick. John moaned, loving the sensation, and was even more lost to it when Sherlock's erection pressed against his ass. They rocked together, faster and faster.
But Sherlock pulled away, pushing John on to his back and practically diving under the covers. John could only groan again, pushing his hands into Sherlock's hair as he took him all in. It was shockingly intimate, entirely unexpected, and had John cumming hard within a couple minutes.
It hadn't been the best blow job he'd ever had, but it was certainly the most enthusiastic. Sherlock's eyes gleamed as he let John go, licking his lips. There was no sign of disappointment.
Something deep inside John surged, a wave of emotion, and he urged Sherlock upwards into a tight hug.
"Oh, um, are you... did you-" John started, easing off and glancing downwards.
Sherlock grinned. "Yes, embarrassingly fast. I woke up before you, after all."
This was so different. Having a partner concentrating on his pleasure so much. Taking such enjoyment from it. John smiled, pulling Sherlock closer for a deep kiss.
...
Things progressed fast after that.
Sherlock was insanely curious, wanting to do and try everything. For someone who claimed he had little interest in sex, John was surprised how often cuddling on the sofa led to more. He was the one holding back, being more experienced, not wanting to pressure Sherlock into more than he could handle. Lazy kisses became more intense, and hands started going under clothing.
Maybe it was his lack of experience or long suppressed sexual side, but he explored John completely. John had never had a lover touch and kiss him all over, and was surprised at how many erogenous areas he found. Sherlock learned to play him like his violin, drawing out his pleasure. John had never felt so accepted and treasured.
He returned the favour enthusiastically, feeling even more connected to Sherlock. Anything that felt good was explored. They both used toys on each other.
Sherlock seemed to love going down on John the most though. Loved that he could take him right to the base without choking or gagging, never having to worry about that. John loved being able to fuck his mouth, relishing the tight wet heat of it. Sherlock said he also liked bottoming, as it didn't take much prep and John hit his prostrate perfectly. But they didn't do it that often.
...
Sherlock hugged John tight. "I never thought I'd have this, be like this, with anyone."
"Having raunchy gay sex?" John joked, feeling very relaxed and happy.
Rolling his eyes, Sherlock shifted on to his back, staring at the ceiling. "I've never had a connection like this with anyone else. Many men and women have found my body attractive, and I've had sex with a few of them, but it wasn't good. They didn't understand me, and I couldn't fully relax around them. Couldn't be myself."
"I felt that too. Like they couldn't accept me fully."
Turning his head, Sherlock looked down at John warmly. "But it was different with you from the start. You kept saying how brilliant I was at that first crime scene, and in the cab, and it wasn't faked to just have sex with me."
"Well, you shut my flirting down at the restaurant. I was happy to just be around you."
"You were just as into the cases as I was, and shot a guy for me," Sherlock continued. "I think everything changed for me from then on."
John sighed. "We wasted so much time."
Sherlock moved to be on his side, facing John. "I think we needed that time as just flatmates and friends. Getting to know each other so well. When you finally kissed me, it just felt so right."
"When we started this, didn't you say something about not being very sexual?" John chuckled.
Sherlock rested his head on John's chest. John was stroking a lazy hand through his messy curls, enjoying how relaxed Sherlock was against him. He was practically purring.
Those sage green eyes flicked upwards to meet John's, a smirk on his lips. "My libido seems to be limited to army doctors that I live with."
"And mine to consulting detectives," John replied.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I'm not the one with a nickname related to my sexual prowess."
John sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "Yes, I had a lot of partners before you, and enjoyed sex. But you've spoiled me for anyone else."
"I'm that good?" Sherlock lifted his head to stare directly at John, clearly intrigued.
Pulling him down into a kiss, John smiled against his lips. "Yes."
...
A/N: This isn't really a kink of mine, but it was brought up in a Johnlock Facebook group, and this fic idea popped out of that. I can see John being such an attentive lover, using his hands, mouth and toys to blow his lovers' minds, that he still earns the 'Three Continents Watson' name.
-"It's not the size of the boat nor the motion of the ocean, it's whether or not the Captain can stay in port long enough for all the passengers to get off." is from someecards. com.
-I think John in this fic is slightly smaller 'downstairs' than average, but doesn't have a micropenis. Small enough that he feels a bit self-conscious about it with lovers, but it looks normal when flaccid. Not much of a grower. But he makes up for it with his 'special skills'.