Baker Street Boys

28

//SMUT WARNING//

John and Sherlock celebrate a new addition to their fun. It goes very well.

John looked down at his lover.

It was a rather beautiful sight.

Sherlock's arms were stretched above his head and John had wound wide, black leather ribbons from elbows to wrists and then knotted the ends to the sturdy metal headboard bolted to the wall. The headboard was a new addition to their bedroom, as Sherlock had accidentally pulled too hard on the narrow spindles of the wooden predecessor the last time John had tied him up and rimmed him for two hours. It had rather broken the mood, and John had promptly gone online and found an old cemetery gate that was just about the right size. Sherlock had been in raptures over it, and this was their inaugural fuck to christen it. So far, John was counting it a huge success.

Sherlock's hands were actually tied to the lower end of the bars, but John had forced him onto his knees and placed a black metal spreader bar around his thighs, just above the bent joints. As a result, Sherlock's back was one long stretched line up through his shoulders and arms sloping down to where his long fingered hands gripped the bars with deadly force. John had removed the pillows so Sherlock wouldn't suffocate, and the trussed up detective had his right cheek pressed to the damp burgundy sheet, his sweat soaked curls plastered to his forehead and temples, his aquamarine eyes glazed and staring at nothing, and his pink lips stretched around the black rubber ball gag buckled around his head. His pale skin was flushed pink and glowed against the contrast of hair, eyes and sheet, and John found his own eyes continually pulled to the expression of pained ecstasy gracing the beloved features.

Sherlock's lean back was reddened and sported long, snaking trails of black wax from the candle currently burning merrily away on the bedside table, the single flame the only illumination in the darkened room and limning both men in the sensual reddish light and severely contrasting dark shadows. John had also bitten and sucked at Sherlock's vulnerable nape and broad shoulders while he had been curled over the detective and plunging four fingers in and out of his body. As a result, love bites and circular bruises in the shape of John's teeth littered Sherlock's upper back. That had been an hour ago, and had been preceded by forty five minutes of John's mouth sucking and licking the fluttering arsehole while Sherlock had whined and whimpered before gasping as a wide black plug had slammed home.

John stood next to the bed and ran his fingers through his lover's hair, causing the lust stricken man to jerk in his bonds and moan luxuriously. The blond doctor's dark gaze travelled the length of the beautiful body strung taut before him, admiring his handy work and alighting on the fucking machine currently wringing the most delightful sounds from that long, white throat. Sherlock's thighs were spread wide by the bar John had placed at its widest setting, and his arse was at the perfect distance from the custom footboard John had had made to match the rest of the bed to take the long slow strokes of the slim, steel dildo sliding through the copious amounts of lube and saliva in his hole.

John had carefully selected just the right toy, the dildo far too narrow and smooth after the wide ridged plug to get Sherlock over the peak. He had also set the machine to a steady, but languorous rhythm also designed to keep Sherlock on edge and gagging in desperation. John himself was standing by the side of the bed in nothing but his old desert camo trousers leftover from his army days, the zip down, but the button fastened and his sturdy and his very hard cock and tightened balls jutting out through the opening. Just visible through the zip was the black metal cockring he'd placed around himself. He kept an eye on the clock, conscious of how long the both of them had been hard and wanting and came to the decision that it was time to get to the main event.