encyclopaedic, hence his fit of temper, which was doubtless compounded by the fact that I could see, in the dim light, that his attentions to me had not left him entirely unmoved. Still dazed, I reached out a hand to cup him through his trousers and no sooner had I brushed him than he batted me away.
"You are not thinking clearly!" He opened the door, sprang out and, after a brief word to the impatient cabman, leaned back in to address me in a low voice. "I will settle the fare. Get in the house, and for the love of Heaven do not let yourself be seen by any passers-by or by Mrs. Hudson. After one look at your face, even the most innocent person would not have any delusions about what you have just been doing."
As usual, he was absolutely right, but even the sudden realisation that we had almost been caught in a rather compromising position did not help greatly in dampening my ardour.
Clumsily, I hurried into the house, ascended our stairs and made straight for his bedroom. My own would perhaps have been more advisable, being farther from our landlady's quarters on the ground floor, but I could not wait even the few minutes it would take to get there. I heard his footsteps pounding on the stairs a few minutes later, by which point I had made an excellent start at disrobing, and the next instant he was in his room. He locked the door and turned to face me, the gleam of devilment back in his eyes.
An instant later he was in my arms and kissing me fervently. I wasted no time caressing him, or stroking over the lean form that aroused me so much. I moved straight for his trouser buttons and belt buckle, and groaned loudly when his hands slipped below the waistband of my loosened trousers. He traced long fingers between my buttocks, and when I felt him nudge delicately against the cause of my torment for the last fifteen minutes, I thrust my own hand down the front of his trousers and grabbed his erection.
"Now," I said desperately, incapable of elaboration.
"A moment," he requested, hurriedly loosening his waistcoat and shirt buttons. "Let me just–"
I am embarrassed to say that I practically dragged the poor man over to his own bed by his open shirtfront, and kept a firm grip on him with one hand while I rummaged in his bedside table with the other. Quite why I felt obliged to hold on to him throughout I am not sure – the odds of him disappearing elsewhere at that moment were vanishingly small – but I think it excusable if I say I was not thinking clearly.
I tore open his trousers and thrust my hand into his underclothes, my palm slick with the contents of the pot of Vaseline.
"John!" Holmes grabbed at my wrist. "Easy, slow down, at least let me remove my–"
"Now," I repeated, pushing his trousers down around his thighs and slicking his cock, "please, now, I cannot wait any longer."
Finally he acquiesced. Shrugging off only his overcoat and jacket, he pushed me down onto the bed. I rolled onto my stomach and spread my legs, my muscles twitching and jumping in anticipation as he knelt between them. He tugged at my hips, encouraging me to get up onto my knees, and crowded closer when I readily complied. I felt the rough scratch of the wool of his trousers on my inner thighs, and then a slow wave of pleasure rolled up my spine as he gently eased the plug free of me. A scant few seconds later I felt the tip of him pressing against me, and we both moaned simultaneously as he slid into me, a long steady movement that left me with my head hanging down between my braced arms, panting for air and battling ferociously with the urge to sob aloud in relief.
He flexed against me, and let himself slide free before gently pushing back into me. When he repeated the same agonisingly slow movement, it was enough to make me raise my head.
"For God's sake, Sherlock," I hissed at him, "haven't you teased me enough this evening? What do I have to say for you to—ah!"
He had taken me at my word. Kneeing my thighs further apart, he
"You are not thinking clearly!" He opened the door, sprang out and, after a brief word to the impatient cabman, leaned back in to address me in a low voice. "I will settle the fare. Get in the house, and for the love of Heaven do not let yourself be seen by any passers-by or by Mrs. Hudson. After one look at your face, even the most innocent person would not have any delusions about what you have just been doing."
As usual, he was absolutely right, but even the sudden realisation that we had almost been caught in a rather compromising position did not help greatly in dampening my ardour.
Clumsily, I hurried into the house, ascended our stairs and made straight for his bedroom. My own would perhaps have been more advisable, being farther from our landlady's quarters on the ground floor, but I could not wait even the few minutes it would take to get there. I heard his footsteps pounding on the stairs a few minutes later, by which point I had made an excellent start at disrobing, and the next instant he was in his room. He locked the door and turned to face me, the gleam of devilment back in his eyes.
An instant later he was in my arms and kissing me fervently. I wasted no time caressing him, or stroking over the lean form that aroused me so much. I moved straight for his trouser buttons and belt buckle, and groaned loudly when his hands slipped below the waistband of my loosened trousers. He traced long fingers between my buttocks, and when I felt him nudge delicately against the cause of my torment for the last fifteen minutes, I thrust my own hand down the front of his trousers and grabbed his erection.
"Now," I said desperately, incapable of elaboration.
"A moment," he requested, hurriedly loosening his waistcoat and shirt buttons. "Let me just–"
I am embarrassed to say that I practically dragged the poor man over to his own bed by his open shirtfront, and kept a firm grip on him with one hand while I rummaged in his bedside table with the other. Quite why I felt obliged to hold on to him throughout I am not sure – the odds of him disappearing elsewhere at that moment were vanishingly small – but I think it excusable if I say I was not thinking clearly.
I tore open his trousers and thrust my hand into his underclothes, my palm slick with the contents of the pot of Vaseline.
"John!" Holmes grabbed at my wrist. "Easy, slow down, at least let me remove my–"
"Now," I repeated, pushing his trousers down around his thighs and slicking his cock, "please, now, I cannot wait any longer."
Finally he acquiesced. Shrugging off only his overcoat and jacket, he pushed me down onto the bed. I rolled onto my stomach and spread my legs, my muscles twitching and jumping in anticipation as he knelt between them. He tugged at my hips, encouraging me to get up onto my knees, and crowded closer when I readily complied. I felt the rough scratch of the wool of his trousers on my inner thighs, and then a slow wave of pleasure rolled up my spine as he gently eased the plug free of me. A scant few seconds later I felt the tip of him pressing against me, and we both moaned simultaneously as he slid into me, a long steady movement that left me with my head hanging down between my braced arms, panting for air and battling ferociously with the urge to sob aloud in relief.
He flexed against me, and let himself slide free before gently pushing back into me. When he repeated the same agonisingly slow movement, it was enough to make me raise my head.
"For God's sake, Sherlock," I hissed at him, "haven't you teased me enough this evening? What do I have to say for you to—ah!"
He had taken me at my word. Kneeing my thighs further apart, he
Similar Books
