Deflowered-04
When John went back to the bed he carried a can of petroleum jelly with him, which he had retrieved from the cupboard. The slight twitch in Sherlock's eyelids contradicted his otherwise cool demeanour and betrayed his nervousness. John told him to bend his knees and he obeyed without another word or snide remark.
John rested his right hand on Sherlock's knee.
"Relax. Breath deep. I won't hurt you on purpose," he told him in a calm voice. He laid his left hand on the inside of Sherlock's thigh and let it travel downwards.
"I hope for your own best that you haven't lied to me about the enema. I might be inclined to let you suck my fingers clean… after I have prepared you sufficiently," John said matter-of-factly.
Sherlock tried to stifle a sharp intake of breath when John reached his clean-shaven balls and touched them lightly.
"To think that I'm the first one to touch you there… right there…" John mused while his fingers stroked over the soft skin of the perineum. The urge to claim, to take, to fuck was suddenly overwhelming. John had to inhale a few times through his nose to calm himself again, to quench his thirst and to dim his hunger to a bearable level.
Sherlock shivered under his touch and it was such a breathtaking sight that John spent long minutes fondling the soft balls and the even softer skin which lay behind them.
"Won't you just get on with it?" Sherlock finally asked, but it sounded so breathless that John's mouth split in an amused grin.
"Eager, are we?" he teased. "In fact we have the whole night on our hands, but since you are so… desperate… I will indulge you." John opened the lid of the can and smeared a generous amount of the jelly on his forefinger.
Slowly, he circled the puckered virginal opening with the lubricated digit. A ball of molten liquid burned through his body until it settled firmly between his legs. The twitching of the skin under his finger only fanned the flames of his hunger. Finally he rested his fingertip directly over the tight, twitching hole.
"Relax," he repeated. "Breath. And push down a little bit."
Surprisingly, Sherlock followed his orders and John watched with bated breath how his finger slipped nearly effortlessly inside this tempting body. Just as John thought everything would work out fine, Sherlock gasped and tensed.
John didn't move his finger. Even if he had wanted to, he couldn't. Sherlock was unbelievably tight. At this thought his traitorous cock surged back to life.
"Does it hurt?"
Sherlock shook his head.
"Not really..." he managed to get out. "Just… uncomfortable."
"It will pass," John tried to soothe him. "Really… you have to relax or you will hurt yourself. You're so tight. You're going to crush my finger if you keep tensing up."
That earned him a small giggle. A small sigh and a little bit of the tension left Sherlock's body and John was able to move his finger again.
"Lie back, think of England and enjoy the ride," he suggested with a sleazy grin.
oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo
Half an hour later, Sherlock's member was hard, leaking and nearly purple. On his quivering stomach a wet patch of pre-come was glistening with each breath and every movement of his aroused, restless body.
His face and his chest was flushed, his nipples hard and erect like his cock. Both body parts practically begging John to suck them into oblivion.
Sherlock's legs were spread obscenely wide, his thighs trembled, his forehead and his heaving chest were damp with sweat. The lids over his fascinating, pale eyes had fluttered and closed a long time ago.
Only soft gasps and throaty moans had escaped those slightly parted lips. White teeth nearly constantly worried the full lower lip which was now red and swollen and would look just right - stretched around John's weeping cock.
Long fingers clawed on the dark red sheets in an attempt to fulfil John's orders to keep his hands away from his cock.
It was a sight to remember and John held still to drink in this wanton display. And to think that it had taken only two fingers and some petroleum jelly to reduce this insolent, arrogant and sarcastic guy to a shivering, wanton and impossible horny mess…
John's fingers now moved without resistance in and out of Sherlock's body. On every third or fourth stroke he brushed over the small bulge of Sherlock's prostate. Every time he did it, Sherlock's body reacted more violently. His moans became more breathless and eager. His body tried to open up even more, tried to took more of John's fingers, to swallow them, to hold them there… deep inside of him.
With a slightly hard push, John buried his fingers deep inside of Sherlock's body. Deep inside the hot, smooth walls of his canal. His fingertips thumped on the already overstimulated gland and Sherlock cried out in arousal and agony. A now steady stream of pre-come constantly dripping from his neglected, rampant cock was soiling his pale – otherwise flawless - skin.
"Are you ready for a third finger?" John asked with a devilish smile.
Sherlock only nodded vehemently.
"Do you want a third finger?" John asked again.
"GOD YES! HURRY!" Sherlock cried.
"Mmmhhh…" John pretended to contemplate Sherlock's ecstatic outburst while his fingers kept still. "No," he told Sherlock at last, pulling out his fingers and wiping them on the inside of those pale, trembling thighs. "Sorry. Wrong answer." He stood up and watched Sherlock with merciless, calculating eyes
Sherlock startled and sat up.
"What? No!" Sherlock cried. "Wait… please!" he pleaded with a frenzied, desperate look on his face. "Come back!"
A cruel smile played over John's lips.
"Ah… too late for pleading and begging, I fear."
Incredulity settled on Sherlocks features.
"But… you're… really leaving?"
"Yes."
Dark eyebrows knitted in pure confusion but then he noticed the small tent in John's black trousers.
"But you're still…" He searched John's eyes. "Don't you want me to suck you off? I mean… at least?"
"No. That's not necessary. And not what I came here for," John stated.
The look of confusion remained firmly on Sherlock's face.
"Will you come back?"
John shrugged casually.
"Not tonight… not tomorrow... but eventually."
Sherlock seemed to fumble for words.
"But you haven't… finished…"
Again, John smiled. But again, it wasn't a kind smile.
"I never leave a job unfinished. But I will do so in my own time. Not when some horny cockslut is getting all wanton and eager."
Sherlock didn't show any embarrassment at the crude words. He still couldn't get over the fact that John was leaving without taking his virginity.
"But my…" he licked his lips nervously. "I'm still… Miss Adler… what should I tell her?"
"Don't worry about Miss Adler," John stated calmly. "I will talk to her and explain her everything about your… condition."
"I really don't understand," Sherlock admitted with great reluctance. "What was this…" he gestured with his hand over himself and over the bed, "…all about?"
"Oh…" John sucked on the inside of his cheeks and grinned. "Just passing the time and proving a point." Before Sherlock could utter another question John turned on his heels and walked out of the door.
"And they call me infuriating," Sherlock muttered under his breath.
With a frustrated sigh he fell back on the bed. His fingers formed themselves in a tight sheath around his still hard and wet erection. He only managed a few – surprisingly rather unsatisfying – strokes, when the door opened again and John was back.
His mouth curled in a knowing smirk, but the look in his eyes was stern.
"I wouldn' t do that if I were you," he advised Sherlock.
"Or else?" Sherlock spat back.
The smirk turned to a sneer.
"Or you would have to suffer my displeasure."
A visible shiver ran over Sherlock's body, but he remained cool and slightly arrogant.
"You wouldn't know."
John laughed.
"Trust me… I would."
"Fine!" With an irritated sigh Sherlock's fingers unfurled and grabbed the sheets instead. Needless to say his cock was not amused. Sherlock breathed through his nose. He was concentrating on his breathing, trying to calm down.
"Excellent. Good boy. Eager to please, are we?" That earned John a glare. "Just remember: I own you," John whispered in a low and stern but nevertheless seductive voice. "I bought you. Your virginity is mine to take. Your cock, your balls, your mouth, your tongue, your ass… it all belongs to me now. Even your pleasure – all mine. And I am the one to decide when is the right time to claim you… to take you slowly apart… to decide whether it's the right time to inflict pleasure or to inflict pain."
"Pain?" Sherlock asked with clear interest in his voice. "So… you will hurt me?"
The unpleasant smile was back.
"You haven't earned that right yet."
At those words another shiver ran through Sherlock's body and his still half-hard cock twitched in vain.
John flashed Sherlock another friendly, but toothy grin and left without another word.
To be continued…
Sadly without gifs… there were only three of them. Starting from now I will let my imagination run wild.
