A Turn of Phrase 5/8as_i_amDecember 31 2010, 05:54:09 UTC
Sherlock bobbed smoothly, swiftly, expertly. A few strokes and he took even more than half, his cheeks hallowing. Then he opened his eyes and gazed up at John as he worked on him, focused and intense. The sight was almost too much.
"Don't keep at that too long," John said, his voice harsh and catching. "I'll put a load right down your throat if you do."
A few more passes and he slid his mouth off. His lips were glistening. John wanted to push his head back down, but at the same time he didn't want to go off before they even got naked. "Good God, Sherlock." He could barely breathe. He realized his entire body was trembling. "I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you right now."
Sherlock got back on the bed, graceful and languid. "Do you want to do the taking? It’s probably better that way."
"Oh yes." John tried, flailing and boneless, to get the rest of the way out of his jeans and pants. "Wait…why is it better?"
"I'm, as they say, hung like a horse."
John stared at him.
"It might be uncomfortable for you," Sherlock explained evenly. "And you'd need a good deal more preparation than I think you have the patience for at the moment."
John still didn't know how to respond. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "So, it…" He paused again. "Well, 'hung like a horse,' you mean…"
Sherlock waved a hand. "It's not really the dimensions of a horse's penis, of course. That's absurd. Some like the fullness and discomfort and want me to top them, but as I said, it takes some preparation and you seem a bit too aroused," he looked at John's cock, "to withstand that. You'd probably come off while I'm readying you."
John cleared his throat. "Let me see this thing."
Sherlock took his bottoms off, and dear God, the thing was markedly big, especially fully engorged. Thick, though not any more than his own, but notably longer, with a bit of a curve toward the head. It's proportional to his body, he thought deliriously.
"I know, I know," Sherlock said dismissively. "It's not grossly outside of normal range, but it's big enough to get comments, and as I said, cause discomfort without proper preparation." John wished he'd quit alluding to fucking other men, because suddenly the notion made him angry. "You seem more eager to penetrate me anyway, so I didn't think it would be an issue."
"Oh I am," John said. "I prefer to be on top."
"Good, then there's no discussion." He paused, expression thoughtful. "Do you have any condoms?"
"Yes, just there in the bedside drawer."
"And lubricant?"
John felt a drop in the pit of his stomach. "Um."
"What do you wank with?" Sherlock asked, sounding mildly concerned.
"Uh." John felt his cheeks flush. "My hand?"
Sherlock blinked at him, slowly, the sort of blink which said, 'you're being daft.'
"Er, just…spit, usually," John said. "And as you might have noticed, I leak quite a bit when I'm aroused. I don't usually need lubricant."
"Hm." Sherlock darted his gaze about the room. "All right. Stay put." He worked himself off the bed. As he left the room he called back, "Put a condom on while I'm gone."
John stared after him a moment, then he snapped out of his stupor and fought the rest of the way out of his clothes, jeans and shirt, until he was finally naked. He got a condom from the drawer, and, appreciating Sherlock's demand for efficiency at a time like this, opened the package and applied the slick rubber sheath. He felt a little absurd, sitting there waiting for Sherlock to return with a condom on his cock, and was glad when he heard his footsteps on the stairs.
When Sherlock entered the room he was completely naked, as if his clothes had magically disappeared. He was long and lean and pale and his cock was still fully erect, jutting out obscenely in front of him. He had a clear bottle in his hand. "Baby oil," he announced, as he crawled back on the bed.
"Why do we have baby oil?" John asked.
"It's the perfect viscosity for some of my experiments." He held the bottle out. "Do you want to prepare me, or watch me do it myself?"
John considered. "I'd like the honors," he said, and took the bottle.
Re: A Turn of Phrase 5/8spiderineMarch 29 2011, 14:39:16 UTC
OMG this is extraordinarily hot and amusing at the same time. I adore you.
I do, however, feel obliged as a former employee of a sex-toy shop and lecturer on the subject to remind readers that oil-based lubricants should not be used with condoms, as they weaken the latex and render the condom prone to breakage.
This has been your safe-sex PSA for the day. Carry on with the smut, please and thank you!
"Don't keep at that too long," John said, his voice harsh and catching. "I'll put a load right down your throat if you do."
A few more passes and he slid his mouth off. His lips were glistening. John wanted to push his head back down, but at the same time he didn't want to go off before they even got naked. "Good God, Sherlock." He could barely breathe. He realized his entire body was trembling. "I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you right now."
Sherlock got back on the bed, graceful and languid. "Do you want to do the taking? It’s probably better that way."
"Oh yes." John tried, flailing and boneless, to get the rest of the way out of his jeans and pants. "Wait…why is it better?"
"I'm, as they say, hung like a horse."
John stared at him.
"It might be uncomfortable for you," Sherlock explained evenly. "And you'd need a good deal more preparation than I think you have the patience for at the moment."
John still didn't know how to respond. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "So, it…" He paused again. "Well, 'hung like a horse,' you mean…"
Sherlock waved a hand. "It's not really the dimensions of a horse's penis, of course. That's absurd. Some like the fullness and discomfort and want me to top them, but as I said, it takes some preparation and you seem a bit too aroused," he looked at John's cock, "to withstand that. You'd probably come off while I'm readying you."
John cleared his throat. "Let me see this thing."
Sherlock took his bottoms off, and dear God, the thing was markedly big, especially fully engorged. Thick, though not any more than his own, but notably longer, with a bit of a curve toward the head. It's proportional to his body, he thought deliriously.
"I know, I know," Sherlock said dismissively. "It's not grossly outside of normal range, but it's big enough to get comments, and as I said, cause discomfort without proper preparation." John wished he'd quit alluding to fucking other men, because suddenly the notion made him angry. "You seem more eager to penetrate me anyway, so I didn't think it would be an issue."
"Oh I am," John said. "I prefer to be on top."
"Good, then there's no discussion." He paused, expression thoughtful. "Do you have any condoms?"
"Yes, just there in the bedside drawer."
"And lubricant?"
John felt a drop in the pit of his stomach. "Um."
"What do you wank with?" Sherlock asked, sounding mildly concerned.
"Uh." John felt his cheeks flush. "My hand?"
Sherlock blinked at him, slowly, the sort of blink which said, 'you're being daft.'
"Er, just…spit, usually," John said. "And as you might have noticed, I leak quite a bit when I'm aroused. I don't usually need lubricant."
"Hm." Sherlock darted his gaze about the room. "All right. Stay put." He worked himself off the bed. As he left the room he called back, "Put a condom on while I'm gone."
John stared after him a moment, then he snapped out of his stupor and fought the rest of the way out of his clothes, jeans and shirt, until he was finally naked. He got a condom from the drawer, and, appreciating Sherlock's demand for efficiency at a time like this, opened the package and applied the slick rubber sheath. He felt a little absurd, sitting there waiting for Sherlock to return with a condom on his cock, and was glad when he heard his footsteps on the stairs.
When Sherlock entered the room he was completely naked, as if his clothes had magically disappeared. He was long and lean and pale and his cock was still fully erect, jutting out obscenely in front of him. He had a clear bottle in his hand. "Baby oil," he announced, as he crawled back on the bed.
"Why do we have baby oil?" John asked.
"It's the perfect viscosity for some of my experiments." He held the bottle out. "Do you want to prepare me, or watch me do it myself?"
John considered. "I'd like the honors," he said, and took the bottle.
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I do, however, feel obliged as a former employee of a sex-toy shop and lecturer on the subject to remind readers that oil-based lubricants should not be used with condoms, as they weaken the latex and render the condom prone to breakage.
This has been your safe-sex PSA for the day. Carry on with the smut, please and thank you!
Reply
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