Deflowered-05
Five days later John came back.
During those five days Sherlock had – unusually obedient – refrained from touching himself in any erotic or sexual manner.
Yet he was not very pleased with himself. A slow, constantly burning arousal coursed through his veins, through his body and through his overactive mind… slowly eating away at him.
He grew restless and even more short-tempered than he had been before. He didn't knew what his mysterious customer had told Miss Adler (and she didn't share her knowledge with him) – the only thing he had learned had been the name of his intriguing guest: John Watson. Or better: Mafia Boss John "Doctor" Watson. Sherlock had Internet-access after all – and he wasn't stupid.
As soon as he knew who his mysterious customer had been, his curiosity has really been awoken and he now longed to satisfy it alongside with his physical needs.
In the meantime he attended on his clients in his usual style – with his hands, his mouth, and sometimes with his back and his arse for an occasional spanking.
In all these five days he had only once been tempted to break John's order of not relieving himself.
The customer in question had reminded him of John. Not so much because of his looks, but because of his stance and his attitude. He had been older than John, but just like the Mafia boss, he had been friendly but firm. Sherlock never knew that he craved such a treatment just that much.
His customer had wanted to spank Sherlock's buttocks and Sherlock had complied willingly. He had draped himself across the customer's thighs and had noticed the first signs of arousal in the elder man - his erection had begun poking against Sherlock's stomach.
The customer had spanked him quite expertly and Sherlock had enjoyed the proceedings more and more until not only the other man had sported a straining erection.
It would have been so easy to rub himself against the other's lap, to squirm and to buck until he would have achieved an orgasm at last. The sting in his glowing buttocks had been superb and he had revelled in it. He had anticipated the next blow and his hips had made already tiny, involuntary movements which excited him further… when he had felt a tender brush of a finger travelling down the crack between his arse cheeks.
Sherlock had stiffened and bolted upright, had distanced himself from the customer, had shouted abuse and had caused quite a scene.
The whole hubbub brought Miss Adler to the room where she first had backhanded Sherlock to shut him up, before she had turned to the baffled and angry customer to apologize for the behaviour of her "unreasonable and impertinent employee".
Later Sherlock had seethed in her office that "this man had no right to touch me THERE."
Miss Adler had looked at him with a thoughtful expression and had said nothing. But she had advised him to rest for two hours, before he should attend to the next customer – and to put an icepack on his cheek, to lessen the imprint of her delicate but strong hand on his pale face.
But that had been in the past.
Now was the present.
And John was back.
Three hours ago Miss Adler had tossed Sherlock an enema, told him the time and the room number and – since he hadn't moved and had kept gaping at her – she had ordered in a friendly manner: "Up you go, Get ready for your… doctor's visit, my little virgin."
He had glared at her – but since then his hands had kept trembling in anticipation.
If someone would have told him just two weeks ago, that he would be so eager to lose his virginity – to a Mafia boss no less – he would have told them to see a damn good psychiatrist.
And now… John was standing before him and he was so ready to beg for a good, proper fucking.
"Congratulation… you broke me," Sherlock said in a strange mixture of pride, relief and desperation.
John arched one eyebrow and smirked.
"Did I?"
Sherlock bit his lips.
"At least kind of…" he mused. "You gave me a taste… a mere hint of what was to come, what you had in mind with me, what it will be like." He breathed slowly, deliberately in and out before he continued. "That had been clever… awfully clever. Somehow you knew that tasting and still not knowing will drive me up the walls. Will you now satisfy my curiosity and sate my hunger?" He paused for a moment and licked his lips. A look of desperation and nervousness flickered over his face, but he kept his head held high and a stubborn light kept on gleaming in his eyes. "Or do I need to beg first? Disgrace myself? I… am inclined to do so… if necessary."
John smiled, and this time it was a real, pleasant smile.
"I don't think begging will be necessary. I guess we're past that. You have earned your reward without further terms."
A small, relieved sigh escaped Sherlock's lips.
"Good. I would have hated it, but I would have done it."
John's lips curled.
"Someone should tell you that such honesty doesn't sit too well with your choice of career."
"You are lecturing me about honesty and career choices?" Sherlock asked with a haughty look.
On the outside, John remained calm.
"So you found out what I'm doing for money," he simply stated.
Sherlock shrugged.
"I'm not stupid. I know how to use search engines on the web. And I guess it's not only the money you're after."
"Oh, what else would it be, pray tell," John spat sarcastically.
"Power," Sherlock answered unimpressed.
"You really are a clever boy," John said – again intrigued by this total lack of fear. "It doesn't frighten you that I'm a part of the family?"
"Should I?" Sherlock merely asked.
John showed his teeth.
"Clever and brave! My… am I lucky tonight," he drawled. "Enough foreplay. Undress yourself," he ordered in a harsh voice.
Sherlock's eyes roamed over his body and his face.
"I guess that has not been very clever of me…" he contemplated.
"Spot on deduction" John said with an icy smile.
Sherlock took a deep breath.
"I've angered you - now you will make it hurt, am I right?" he asked – not with fear, but with a quiet acceptance like he had been many times before in exactly the same situation.
And in that few seconds John did something he had never did before in his whole life. He reconsidered an already made decision.
"No," he said finally. "I gave you my word that I won't hurt you on purpose… I'm a man who keeps his promises."
Sherlock looked at him with wonder in his eyes.
"Really?" he blurted out, but then he looked down in confusion and whispered: "Thank you."
"Would you now be so kind to finally undress yourself?" John asked with a little exasperation in his voice.
"Certainly," Sherlock answered with a smile and shrugged out of his dressing gown. He was naked underneath. "Where and how do you want me?" he asked with a smug smile.
"You're incorrigible," John said with a brief smile. "On the bed – on your back. Just like the last time." While Sherlock gracefully draped himself on top of the sheets, John retrieved the lube form the cupboard.
But as soon as Sherlock noticed it, he frowned.
"Lube?" he asked. "Why not petroleum jelly like the last time. It had felt… nice." A faint blush shone on his cheeks.
John stared at him incredulously.
"Perhaps because petroleum jelly and condoms don't match well?"
Sudden realisation dawned on Sherlock's face.
"You never intended to fuck me the first time," he said accusingly.
"As I told you before… you were surprisingly pricey. I wanted to make the most of…" John paused. His eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Wait. What? You assumed I would have fucked you without protection?" he asked angrily. "Even worse… you would have let me fuck you without protection?"
Sherlock blinked in surprise.
"Well… I assumed…"
"Is that your favourite past time? Playing Russian roulette with your life?" John interjected.
"It get's a little bit boring here… now and then…"
John shook his head.
"You're an idiot," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Perhaps you're right," Sherlock agreed with a small sigh. "I wouldn't be here in the first place, if I wasn't."
Without wanting to, John found himself in danger of growing too fond of Sherlock's blunt displays of honesty. He noticed that he had been staring on Sherlock's naked form for quite some time now and under his gaze Sherlock's flaccid member had hardened visibly.
A hungry growl rose inside John's chest and he took of his jacket and his black turtleneck shirt. With a thrill of satisfaction he observed that Sherlock's eyes had widened at the sight of his muscular chest and the scar on his left shoulder – a souvenir from a little dispute with another – now dead - member of the family.
"Ready?" John asked in a low voice and Sherlock nodded and spread his legs invitingly.
oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo
Twenty minutes later John was pumping three fingers in and out of Sherlock's loosened, but still convenient tight hole. Just like the last time his whole body was trembling and his hard cock was practically leaking.
"I guess that's enough," John murmured and pulled his fingers out of the hole which was clenching around him, trying to suck him back in. Finally, Sherlock did let go, but whimpered at the loss and John watched with lust and fascination as the wrinkled opening was desperately clamping down around nothing, without being able to close completely. "You're loose enough" John said, while licking his lips.
Sherlock looked at him with heavy lidded eyes and heaving chest.
"Fuck me already," he pleaded hoarsely. "Fill me… I need…"
"I know exactly what you need," John interrupted him with a sleazy grin. "But you will have to work for it."
"Everything," Sherlock breathed.
A pleased smile ghosted over John's lips.
"On your hands and knees then," he ordered and moved on the bed to give Sherlock enough space.
With slow, languid, drowsy movements Sherlock did as he had been told. When he had arranged himself accordingly to John's wishes, he looked back to him over his shoulder.
"What are you waiting for?" he asked with a raspy voice and a small wiggle of his hips.
John slapped the presented buttocks sharply and Sherlock moaned.
"You really get off on that, aren't you?" he teased.
"When someone is as good as you… then the answer is yes." Sherlock stretched his body like a cat in heat. He opened his legs wider, his buttocks parted on their own and John was presented with the sight of a still slightly dilated, still convulsing hole. He stroked his fingers over the soft skin of the already drawn up balls and gave them a slight tug downwards. A small cry and a new, steady flow of pre-come soiling the bed sheets were his reward.
Delicious.
There was no other word for this.
Suddenly John didn't want to wait a minute more. Didn't want to make this last. Hastily he opened his pants and took hold of his hard and weeping erection. He bit his lips to quench his sighs. He took a wrapped condom out of his trouser pocket, ripped the packet open with his teeth and covered his cock with the thin latex sheath. He applied a little more lube and hissed at the coolness on his hot flesh.
He took hold of his cock and pointed it against Sherlock's eager entrance. He heard a small gasp and then only Sherlock's heavy breathing.
"Don't get your hopes to high" John told him. "I won't simply slam into you. I won't do anything. You have to impale yourself on my cock." John heard a groan and a whimper but no objection. His heart sped up. This will be the most fantastic fuck he did have in a long time. A very long time.
"And do it slowly. As slow as you can. Don't rush or I will leave immediately" John threatened. Not that he will be able to do so, but Sherlock shuddered and John knew that the boy enjoyed this kind of treatment. Revelled in it, even.
"You can start anytime you like." John laid his hands on Sherlock's hips and felt the shudders running through the over-stimulated body.
He waited and finally Sherlock braced himself and pushed back a little, moaning like the wanton whore that he was, when the tip of John's cock slid inside his body with sinful ease.
John breathed through his nose. God, this boy was exquisite. How he clenched around his glans, clearly desperate for more.
But he held still, waiting… wanting…
"A bit more now… but remember… keep it slow" John whispered in a low, filthy voice. "And don't stop until you feel my pubic hair in the crack of your arse. If you're a good boy, I will then proceed to fuck your brain out and bugger you senseless."
A nearly obscene moan escape Sherlock's throat and with trembling thighs he pushed a little bit more and another part of John's jerking cock was engulfed in the silken heat of Sherlock's arse.
After long, agonising minutes - which felt like eternity – Sherlock had achieved his goal and John stroke soothingly over the shaking body which was drenched in sweat.
"Such a good boy," he cooed teasingly. "Such a perfect little slut."
A new shudder wrecked Sherlock's body and the silken heat tightened again convulsive around John's impatient cock. John sighed and to the music of Sherlock's little, sharp ecstatic cries he pulled out completely. For a few seconds he admired the gaping hole before he slammed back in.
"GOD! YES!" Sherlock's cry echoed in the room.
"What a naughty bitch," John growled and began to thrust in a nearly punishing rhythm into Sherlock's eager and inviting body.
Sherlock's hands gave out and he rested his weight on his forearms instead. His forehead was pressed against the bed and his arse was high up in the air. John's fingers were sure to leave imprints on those pale hips while he tried to change the angle of his thrust.
Suddenly Sherlock cried out and his head flew up.
"THERE! OH FUCKING GOD! DO THAT AGAIN!"
But John only smirked in satisfaction now that he had found the sensitive prostate he avoided it on purpose until Sherlock nearly sobbed with lust, arousal and frustration.
John flashed the dark, tousled curls a cruel smile.
Oh, that will be fun…
He slowed down and finally stilled with his pulsing cock firmly inside Sherlock's clenching body.
"John? Don't… don't stop now… I'm so… so close…" Sherlock whimpered.
"Me too – but hang on… just a little bit more…" John pulled out a little and put his left index finger underneath his cock. His finger stroked around the stretched opening and he listened to Sherlock's sighs. Then he pushed his finger carefully in.
Sherlock's long, low moan vibrated through his whole body and John had to close his eyes for a minute or it would have been over for him then and there.
Steady but tender, he pushed his finger further inside. Side by side with his own hard flesh he was finally able to touch Sherlock's neglected prostate. He waited for the small, relieved sigh and when it came, he began to rub his finger ruthlessly over the gland.
The ecstasy had rendered Sherlock speechless. No words left those lips. Sweet cries and deep moans were all that could be heard from him. John's other hand sneaked around the now constantly shivering and tensing body and took hold of the weeping cock. Sherlock groaned in desperation when he realised that John would not rub him but only hold him and squeeze him occasionally.
Just when Sherlock thought he would die from this agonising, torturing and utterly fantastic sensual excitement, his balls started to tighten almost painfully. His felt his arse clamping down, felt the pressure on his prostate even more and then his cock seem to overflow. His semen poured out of his cock in a steady, pulsing stream. The feeling was indescribable, but somehow it seems to be not enough. He wanted more and when John again started to pound into him hard and fast, Sherlock longed for completion, for some kind of closure, but it seemed to be out of reach. And when John finally, finally stiffened and spent himself with a loud groan, Sherlock's hunger still hadn't been sated.
John pulled out almost immediately and removed the used condom from his softening cock. Sherlock turned around and looked down at his body. With a frown he noticed that he was still more than half-hard, clearly yearning for more. Sherlock was puzzled. He had come just a few minutes ago after all… although it hadn't really felt like coming…
He looked up at John who watched him with a strange expression.
"Why hadn't it felt like an orgasm and why am I still…"
"Horny?" John interrupted with a toothy smile and Sherlock nodded. "Oh, that's because I didn't let you come properly… it was more like milking you dry."
"But how…" Suddenly Sherlock understood. "Oh, yes. The prostate massage. You did that on purpose," he declared.
John had already zipped up his trousers and now donned his turtleneck shirt.
"Obviously."
Sherlock swallowed. His throat felt constricted somehow. Curious.
"When will I see you again?"
"Never," John stated flatly and put his jacket back on.
"Never?" Sherlock echoed. "But I thought… you could become my…" Sherlock swallowed again, "you could become a regular guest."
John looked at him with cold, hard eyes.
"I already popped your cherry – quite thoroughly I might add. What else do have me to offer that could possibly entice me into a second go? Entice me enough to become your sugar daddy?" He waited a few moments, but all Sherlock could do was stare at him with wide, unbelieving eyes. John cleared his throat and continued with a sneer: "Nothing. Yes. I thought as much." He turned around and walked to the door.
"You had said… you had promised you wouldn't hurt me on purpose," Sherlock called after him and John broke his stride and turned around to look at Sherlock. "You lied," Sherlock concluded with a cool but empty voice.
"Yes, I lied. That's what people do! What did you expect?" John all but shouted. "You're a whore for god's sake. And I'm a…"
"At least I took you for a man of honour," Sherlock spat, but it still sounded hollow. "I have been clearly mistaken."
John gnashed his teeth.
"Believe me – you're better off without me." With these words he left and closed the door behind him.
Sherlock looked at the closed door in confused bewilderment.
"You also told me that you're not a kind man," he told the empty room. "And I know that had been a lie, too." He looked on the floor were the used condom had ended up. He knitted his brows. "John Watson. I don't understand you. You really are a mystery to me."
oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo
To be continued…
This chapter has been written in quite a hurry. If you find mistakes – please point them out to me. English is not my native language.
It was brought to my attention that there is a fourth gif-set out there. Sadly I can't use it for my story, because I planned something different. Sorry. The gif-set is really hot… you can take a look at it here:
mrs - mob - johnlocked . tumblr post / 50675731618 / mob - au - boss - john - bought - the - first - night - of
