Two Strangers on a Train S/J PWP 1/3
anonymous
December 26 2012, 09:15:57 UTC
This is the first piece of porn I've written and been semi happy with. However it feels cliched and I think who's who gets confusing halfway through. The ending is the kind of ending people complain about me writing, does it fit and if it doesn't what should be there? Help gratefully accepted
The man in the seat next to him is dark and handsome in a horsy way. His clothes scream old money as much as his face. A discrete glance at his reservation tells John they're both bound for London.
He got on at Peterborough bringing cold air and the smell of Starbucks coffee. The only person to join this late train from Newcastle. The man had flung himself with careless grace into his seat, seeming to take no notice of John. His attention focused on the smart phone in his hand since he sat down. Elegant fingers moving surely across the screen.
As he settled into his seat the man's body spread out until one warm leg pressed against John's and an arm leant against the arm rest brushing against John's with every bump pulling John out of his desperate attempt at reading this month’s BMJ.
He thinks its accidental, after all the seats are a tight fit for him and the other man is so much taller, until the man’s fingers brush tantalisingly along the inside of his wrist. Turning light circles over John’s pulse point occasional teasing sweeps coming out to brush over the pad of his thumb.
“You’re a doctor. An army doctor specialising in trauma.” The man’s voice is a drawl straight out of Eton. “How did you do at your interview? The Royal Victoria Infirmary wasn’t it?” The phone has magically disappeared and his hand moved to knead John’s thigh.
John shifts uncomfortably legs spreading as he slides down his seat. The combination of adrenaline and the man’s careful teasing bringing him to unexpected hardness in his good black trousers. “What? How did you know?”
“You were reading the BMJ, so doctor. The clothes are smart but you’re uncomfortable. Suggests a job interview. Your reservation says Newcastle to London Kings Cross. That combined with gun calluses on your fingers, the stiff shoulder and the only job opening recently advertised for at Royal Victoria Infirmary being a Trauma Specialist say army doctor.” He indicated the interview pack pocking out John’s briefcase. “How did you do?” He returns his hand to John’s thigh brushing against his cock on the way.
“I-” John cuts off as the hand moves up to juncture of his thigh and hip. The back of the man’s hand pressing into his erection as he kneads his inner thigh. Encouraging John’s legs to spread as much as they can in the seat. Taking a deep breath he starts again, “I got through to the next stage.”
“Want to celebrate with me?” The man is leaning over his seat now. Crowding him in, one leg in between John’s, hand heavy on his crotch leaving no doubt about what he means. Seeming to see John’s answer before he speaks the man takes advantage of John’s open mouth to swallow John’s tongue and breath in a passionate kiss. “Come on!”
He pulls John out of his seat ignoring the only other passenger’s scandalised look as he gropes John’s arse from behind.
He pushes them both into the cramped piss smelling train toilet. Spinning John to him slam against the door. His tongue moving through John’s mouth, swiping over the roof of his mouth before massaging John’s tongue. John’s hands grab frantically at the man’s shoulders as his hand deftly unbuttons and pushes John’s trousers down. Sliding under his pants to palm his buttocks and massage them in time with his tongue. John grinds against the leg that seems to find its way between at exactly the right moment.
One long finger runs a teasing path around his anus and the man draws away from John’s mouth to pant coffee flavoured breaths in to his face. “Do you…” The man asks his voice wrecked. He darts back down for a kiss the moment finishes speaking. Long fingers pushing John’s pants down.
Two Strangers on a Train S/J PWP 2/2
anonymous
December 26 2012, 09:17:08 UTC
Something deep in John’s lust addled mind tells him he’s being impolite and he looses his hold on the man’s shoulders. Letting his hands fall to his hips where he has to hold on tight for a long moment when the man expertly fists him. A needy whine is drawn from his throat and the man smirks against John’s neck. Frustrated at his lack of control John makes himself let go of the man’s hips and fumble his trousers open. He awkwardly slides a hand down the front of the man’s boxers to palm his cock, squeezing rhythmically.
The man moans and presses his forehead against John’s. He lets go of John making him moan and buck into the man’s thigh and the man press gentle kisses to the edges of John’s mouth. Pushing his trousers and boxers to his knees the man says, “We don’t need to. We can do this.” He wraps one big hand around both of them and jerks them. John’s eyes roll back and his head hits the door. “Like that” the man croons, his mouth moving over John’s neck. He bites down and John’s legs gave way. “May be not.” He laughs, a dark chuckle that makes John’s insides curl, letting go of them to hold John up.
John whines, a reedy desperate noise and blushes. A deep red that spreads down his neck to vanish beneath his collar. He kisses John until his blush recedes to an aroused flush. “I’d really like to” His finger has returned to John’s anus. Slick and slightly cool it slips in to John with ease making him gasp and clutch at the man. “Is this okay?” The finger finds his prostate. John can’t keep his eyes open. He feels full and good and he wants more.
He looses sense of time until the man turns him around and a blunt, thicker, latex covered object presses slowly into him. He moans pressing back in to the seemingly endless slide until the man is pressed tight against him and John feels like he will burst.
The man’s hands dig hard into John’s hips holding him still until John is crying, short muffled sobs with need. Then finally agonisingly slowly he pulls almost all the way out and shoves himself back in again. Pressing John into the door, smearing the dirty metal with pre-come. If John was less aroused he would be wondering how many other people had done this here and what he could catch. Instead John moans desperately trying to fuck himself faster on the cock slowly penetrating him. Trying to bring the fizzing tightness to a head. “Prostate slut.” The man laughs brokenly speeding up.
John’s moaning constantly now begging in incoherent jumbles of syllables. He can feel pre-come leaking down his cock as his balls tighten and his focuses narrows down to the push and pull. The waves of pleasure spreading out as his vision whites out and he’s coming painting the grotty metal door with his come. The man’s rhythm is breaking down his clenched fingers tightening. His nails breaking skin but John isn’t feeling any pain. He’s lost in the overwhelming fullness and pleasure.
Some small dark part of him is irrationally angry when the latex swallows the man’s come.
The man pulls out almost immediately leaving him gaping and empty. Feeling dirty and used as he pulls his trousers up shaky legs and grabs some tissue to wipe the come off. The man takes one more head spinning kiss before he slides out the toilet. Leaving John to make the walk of shame alone.
Re: Two Strangers on a Train S/J PWP 2/2
anonymous
December 26 2012, 19:48:09 UTC
I don't write a lot of porn, so take everything I say here with a grain of salt.
I didn't have much trouble differentiating who was who, except for in this passage: The man moans and presses his forehead against John’s. He lets go of John making him moan and buck into the man’s thigh and the man press gentle kisses to the edges of John’s mouth. Pushing his trousers and boxers to his knees the man says, “We don’t need to. We can do this.” He wraps one big hand around both of them and jerks them. John’s eyes roll back and his head hits the door. “Like that” the man croons, his mouth moving over John’s neck. He bites down and John’s legs gave way. “May be not.” He laughs, a dark chuckle that makes John’s insides curl, letting go of them to hold John up. What don't they need to do? What's Sherlock suggesting? (What's "them" in the last sentence? The closest thing is "John's insides" but that's probably not it :P)
Hope that helped somewhat; good luck! I think the main thing that makes this feel clichéd is that you’re mostly describing what happens but not why. Since this is from John’s POV, readers will want more of an explanation of John’s motivations, especially because he doesn’t have any spoken lines here. There are actually a few places where you could explore this:
- He pulls John out of his seat ignoring the only other passenger’s scandalised look as he gropes John’s arse from behind. (There's another passenger here? What were they doing while Sherlock was groping John all this time? Was John thinking about the other passenger at all? Maybe it turns him on to know there's someone else, or maybe he's conflicted but swept along by Sherlock. Either way, what’s his state of mind?)
- If John was less aroused he would be wondering how many other people had done this here and what he could catch. (But he is thinking about it! This is an interesting avenue of inquiry. John’s a doctor, but also an adrenaline junkie - is the thought that other people have fucked in this place a turn-on or a turn-off? Did he hear Sherlock opening the condom packet, and what did he think about that? Also technically that should be "if John were less aroused". /subjunctive nerd.)
- Some small dark part of him is irrationally angry when the latex swallows the man’s come. (If he wanted Sherlock to come inside him, why? Is it a form of claiming - does he want Sherlock in particular to do it? Or is it indicative of some deeper problem John’s been experiencing - maybe he doesn’t feel wanted/needed and any stranger would have done? How does this desire come into conflict with his instincts about safety, etc?)
It’s up to you to figure out what kind of conflict John’s experiencing, and how that comes through in this sexual encounter. But once you settle on that I think the ending should suggest itself much more organically. Tell us about why John’s feeling used and ashamed. Is he feeling any anger towards Sherlock? Is it mostly the shame of having had a quick fuck in a public place (propriety) or does he feel disappointed that he wasn’t good enough for Sherlock to stick around (something more internal)?
Also, even though Sherlock’s POV doesn’t come into this at all, it’s worth sitting down and thinking about what drives Sherlock as well. Why does he come on to John in the carriage - why does he leave him alone after? This might help you figure out what John’s conflict should be.
Lastly, you didn’t ask for grammar/style advice but something that felt really jarring was your frequent use of sentence fragments. For example: - Elegant fingers moving surely across the screen. - Turning light circles over John’s pulse point occasional teasing sweeps coming out to brush over the pad of his thumb. Fragments are fine when used sparingly because they can mirror thought processes or lend something dramatic impact, but these feel awkward because they're trying to do the job of sentences. Also there are a fair number of dropped commas and apostrophes, and watch out for “looses”: I think the first should be “loosens” and the second should be “loses”.
Help gratefully accepted
The man in the seat next to him is dark and handsome in a horsy way. His clothes scream old money as much as his face. A discrete glance at his reservation tells John they're both bound for London.
He got on at Peterborough bringing cold air and the smell of Starbucks coffee. The only person to join this late train from Newcastle. The man had flung himself with careless grace into his seat, seeming to take no notice of John. His attention focused on the smart phone in his hand since he sat down. Elegant fingers moving surely across the screen.
As he settled into his seat the man's body spread out until one warm leg pressed against John's and an arm leant against the arm rest brushing against John's with every bump pulling John out of his desperate attempt at reading this month’s BMJ.
He thinks its accidental, after all the seats are a tight fit for him and the other man is so much taller, until the man’s fingers brush tantalisingly along the inside of his wrist. Turning light circles over John’s pulse point occasional teasing sweeps coming out to brush over the pad of his thumb.
“You’re a doctor. An army doctor specialising in trauma.” The man’s voice is a drawl straight out of Eton. “How did you do at your interview? The Royal Victoria Infirmary wasn’t it?” The phone has magically disappeared and his hand moved to knead John’s thigh.
John shifts uncomfortably legs spreading as he slides down his seat. The combination of adrenaline and the man’s careful teasing bringing him to unexpected hardness in his good black trousers. “What? How did you know?”
“You were reading the BMJ, so doctor. The clothes are smart but you’re uncomfortable. Suggests a job interview. Your reservation says Newcastle to London Kings Cross. That combined with gun calluses on your fingers, the stiff shoulder and the only job opening recently advertised for at Royal Victoria Infirmary being a Trauma Specialist say army doctor.” He indicated the interview pack pocking out John’s briefcase. “How did you do?” He returns his hand to John’s thigh brushing against his cock on the way.
“I-” John cuts off as the hand moves up to juncture of his thigh and hip. The back of the man’s hand pressing into his erection as he kneads his inner thigh. Encouraging John’s legs to spread as much as they can in the seat. Taking a deep breath he starts again, “I got through to the next stage.”
“Want to celebrate with me?” The man is leaning over his seat now. Crowding him in, one leg in between John’s, hand heavy on his crotch leaving no doubt about what he means. Seeming to see John’s answer before he speaks the man takes advantage of John’s open mouth to swallow John’s tongue and breath in a passionate kiss. “Come on!”
He pulls John out of his seat ignoring the only other passenger’s scandalised look as he gropes John’s arse from behind.
He pushes them both into the cramped piss smelling train toilet. Spinning John to him slam against the door. His tongue moving through John’s mouth, swiping over the roof of his mouth before massaging John’s tongue. John’s hands grab frantically at the man’s shoulders as his hand deftly unbuttons and pushes John’s trousers down. Sliding under his pants to palm his buttocks and massage them in time with his tongue. John grinds against the leg that seems to find its way between at exactly the right moment.
One long finger runs a teasing path around his anus and the man draws away from John’s mouth to pant coffee flavoured breaths in to his face. “Do you…” The man asks his voice wrecked. He darts back down for a kiss the moment finishes speaking. Long fingers pushing John’s pants down.
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The man moans and presses his forehead against John’s. He lets go of John making him moan and buck into the man’s thigh and the man press gentle kisses to the edges of John’s mouth. Pushing his trousers and boxers to his knees the man says, “We don’t need to. We can do this.” He wraps one big hand around both of them and jerks them. John’s eyes roll back and his head hits the door. “Like that” the man croons, his mouth moving over John’s neck. He bites down and John’s legs gave way. “May be not.” He laughs, a dark chuckle that makes John’s insides curl, letting go of them to hold John up.
John whines, a reedy desperate noise and blushes. A deep red that spreads down his neck to vanish beneath his collar. He kisses John until his blush recedes to an aroused flush. “I’d really like to” His finger has returned to John’s anus. Slick and slightly cool it slips in to John with ease making him gasp and clutch at the man. “Is this okay?” The finger finds his prostate. John can’t keep his eyes open. He feels full and good and he wants more.
He looses sense of time until the man turns him around and a blunt, thicker, latex covered object presses slowly into him. He moans pressing back in to the seemingly endless slide until the man is pressed tight against him and John feels like he will burst.
The man’s hands dig hard into John’s hips holding him still until John is crying, short muffled sobs with need. Then finally agonisingly slowly he pulls almost all the way out and shoves himself back in again. Pressing John into the door, smearing the dirty metal with pre-come. If John was less aroused he would be wondering how many other people had done this here and what he could catch. Instead John moans desperately trying to fuck himself faster on the cock slowly penetrating him. Trying to bring the fizzing tightness to a head. “Prostate slut.” The man laughs brokenly speeding up.
John’s moaning constantly now begging in incoherent jumbles of syllables. He can feel pre-come leaking down his cock as his balls tighten and his focuses narrows down to the push and pull. The waves of pleasure spreading out as his vision whites out and he’s coming painting the grotty metal door with his come. The man’s rhythm is breaking down his clenched fingers tightening. His nails breaking skin but John isn’t feeling any pain. He’s lost in the overwhelming fullness and pleasure.
Some small dark part of him is irrationally angry when the latex swallows the man’s come.
The man pulls out almost immediately leaving him gaping and empty. Feeling dirty and used as he pulls his trousers up shaky legs and grabs some tissue to wipe the come off. The man takes one more head spinning kiss before he slides out the toilet. Leaving John to make the walk of shame alone.
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I didn't have much trouble differentiating who was who, except for in this passage:
The man moans and presses his forehead against John’s. He lets go of John making him moan and buck into the man’s thigh and the man press gentle kisses to the edges of John’s mouth. Pushing his trousers and boxers to his knees the man says, “We don’t need to. We can do this.” He wraps one big hand around both of them and jerks them. John’s eyes roll back and his head hits the door. “Like that” the man croons, his mouth moving over John’s neck. He bites down and John’s legs gave way. “May be not.” He laughs, a dark chuckle that makes John’s insides curl, letting go of them to hold John up.
What don't they need to do? What's Sherlock suggesting? (What's "them" in the last sentence? The closest thing is "John's insides" but that's probably not it :P)
Hope that helped somewhat; good luck!
I think the main thing that makes this feel clichéd is that you’re mostly describing what happens but not why. Since this is from John’s POV, readers will want more of an explanation of John’s motivations, especially because he doesn’t have any spoken lines here. There are actually a few places where you could explore this:
- He pulls John out of his seat ignoring the only other passenger’s scandalised look as he gropes John’s arse from behind.
(There's another passenger here? What were they doing while Sherlock was groping John all this time? Was John thinking about the other passenger at all? Maybe it turns him on to know there's someone else, or maybe he's conflicted but swept along by Sherlock. Either way, what’s his state of mind?)
- If John was less aroused he would be wondering how many other people had done this here and what he could catch.
(But he is thinking about it! This is an interesting avenue of inquiry. John’s a doctor, but also an adrenaline junkie - is the thought that other people have fucked in this place a turn-on or a turn-off? Did he hear Sherlock opening the condom packet, and what did he think about that? Also technically that should be "if John were less aroused". /subjunctive nerd.)
- Some small dark part of him is irrationally angry when the latex swallows the man’s come.
(If he wanted Sherlock to come inside him, why? Is it a form of claiming - does he want Sherlock in particular to do it? Or is it indicative of some deeper problem John’s been experiencing - maybe he doesn’t feel wanted/needed and any stranger would have done? How does this desire come into conflict with his instincts about safety, etc?)
It’s up to you to figure out what kind of conflict John’s experiencing, and how that comes through in this sexual encounter. But once you settle on that I think the ending should suggest itself much more organically. Tell us about why John’s feeling used and ashamed. Is he feeling any anger towards Sherlock? Is it mostly the shame of having had a quick fuck in a public place (propriety) or does he feel disappointed that he wasn’t good enough for Sherlock to stick around (something more internal)?
Also, even though Sherlock’s POV doesn’t come into this at all, it’s worth sitting down and thinking about what drives Sherlock as well. Why does he come on to John in the carriage - why does he leave him alone after? This might help you figure out what John’s conflict should be.
Lastly, you didn’t ask for grammar/style advice but something that felt really jarring was your frequent use of sentence fragments. For example:
- Elegant fingers moving surely across the screen.
- Turning light circles over John’s pulse point occasional teasing sweeps coming out to brush over the pad of his thumb.
Fragments are fine when used sparingly because they can mirror thought processes or lend something dramatic impact, but these feel awkward because they're trying to do the job of sentences. Also there are a fair number of dropped commas and apostrophes, and watch out for “looses”: I think the first should be “loosens” and the second should be “loses”.
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/ I had a feeling it should have been were not was.
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