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Sherlock laid on the sofa, clad only in his gown when John unexpectedly came to 221B. Under the gown he was practically naked. No T-shirt, no pants, not even underpants. He thought he was alone, as he was for many months now, John being dad and all.
But suddenly John was here. Standing above him with his eyes roaming somewhere below Sherlock´s waist. Blue silk was covering pretty much nothing and in the most incriminating place was pulled aside, leaving Sherlock’s cock clad only in nest of dark curls, these a bit coarser than his hair.
Why didn’t I hear him come? Must have fallen asleep. Thought Sherlock when tried to cover himself as nonchalantly as possible.
He knew John kept keys from 221b and shown no tendency to give them back. It warmed Sherlock inside and he made no pressure at all. In fact, he never even mentioned the fact, afraid that John would have taken it as a clue to return them.
This time however he must admit it was a bit uncomfortable. Yet Sherlock knew he will still let John keep his keys. He was just going to be a bit more carefull with his home wardrobe.
“What are you doing here?” Sherlock tried to ask but John didn’t answer. His eyes were still devouring Sherlock’s body and his face was… Sherlock never seen John look like this. It was a bit frightening, being introduced to this hungry, predator look of John without any warning and practically naked, but Sherlock was more thrilled than afraid. John always fascinated him and this was just new perfect and shiny piece of John he didn’t get to see until now.
“No pants, eh?” Uttered John almost conversationally, then bent and took hold of a hem of Sherlock´s gown.
Sherlock froze and before he could react, John uncovered him in one swift move.
“John!” Cried Sherlock indignantly, and tried to snatch the cloth back, but John firmly caught his hand and that petrified him once again.
“You really are beautiful, you know that, right?” John´s eyes bore into his and Sherlock found himself struggling for another breath. He swallowed hard.
“Please stop this…” he whispered weakly. “You are straight, remember?”
“And you?” Answered John teasingly and unimaginably, unbelievably and gently touched Sherlock´s penis, softly laying between his legs.
“Don’t..” Gasped Sherlock. “You’re married… you… you have a baby.. ah…” John’s fingers gently wandered up and down Sherlock’s prick and it started swelling accordingly.
“I know what I have, Sherlock. And I know what I don’t have. You’re lying about naked, hoping I’ll find you and take you, and when it comes to it you just back off? I didn’t take you for such a coward. Don’t you want this?”
Sherlock screwed his eyes shut. He took a deep breath and then slowly noded.
He didn’t know how, but was certain he felt John’s smile shine upon him approvingly.
John’s grip of his cock got stronger, more confident and Sherlock dared open his eyes.
John let go of Sherlock’s hand and pushed the gown further down uncovering Sherlock completely.
His left hand slowly stroked Sherlock’s cock and his right started wandering Sherlock’s naked body.
Sherlock began to shiver. He laid on his back unable to move, to touch, to speak. He was frightened of consequences,of what would happen if he started fully participate and above all that John might stop. That combination of fears chained him and the gown in which he was tangled got heavy and binding.
Also Sherlock really didn’t know what to do. He loved John, but gave up all hopes when John got married.
He didn’t have any experiences, but was certain that infidelity on level John was currently performing was reason of serious problems in marriage. When discovered, of course, but then he was never able to lie convincingly around Mary. And so wasn't John.
It was only matter of time when Mary found out and possibly unleash a hell upon poor John. Sherlock would be damned if he let it happen, yet his treacherous body was apparently absolutely fine with it.
“John, please…” He whispered brokenly.
“Shhh..” Was his only answer, John taking interest in his right nipple. When he pinched it, Sherlock let out involuntary cry of anguish mixed with unimaginable bliss.
“You were saying?” Smiled John cheekily and repeated the move.
Sherlock moaned this time and absolutely against his own will spread his legs a bit further.
“That’s right, show me yourself…” Murmured John and began thoroughly exploring Sherlock’s penis, balls and then he got deep down and pushed finger against Sherlock’s hole a bit.
Sherlock, rendered absolutely speechless, had no other possibility than to go with the flow.
He raised a hand to John’s fly, but was batted away. John was obviously enjoying himself, having so clearly upper hand. Being fully clothed against Sherlock’s stark naked body.
After a while John put one sock clad foot between Sherlock’s legs, sat on Sherlock’s left shin and raised Sherlock’s right leg on the back of the sofa, exposing him completely. He was still playing with Sherlock’s cock, but now his eyes slid to Sherlock’s arse.
Sherlock was utterly stunned with a tide of arousal, stemming only from the fact he had his most intimate parts spread out for John to see.
John wasn’t even touching his arse, having both hands on Sherlock´s prick and doing something exquisite and perfect involving sliding and twisting and pressure on exactly right places…
“I will make you come” Breathed John heavily with arousal straining his trousers. “And then I’m going to put my tongue in your arse and lick you inside and then I want your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock and I will fuck your mouth a bit and than Sherlock I swear to God I’m going to fuck you like.. “
Sherlock didn’t hear the rest. The assault of images completely overloaded his mind and consequently his body. He was catapulted into white sparkling space of pure pleasure and John, John was who took him there.
That thought made everything even stronger, arousal almost unbearable and he was coming and coming and wishing it would never end…
Slowly, slowly Sherlock descended back to earth. He laid on the sofa, naked only with a gown softly hugging his shoulders.
Both his hands wrapped around his prick, sticky and wet.
It was dark outside. John was nowhere in sight.
When the reality caught up with him Sherlock felt guilty for exactly 2,5 seconds.
Then he figured that for the love of God he wasn’t able to regret what happened. After all, it was just a dream.
When he realized the implications of the dream he felt sorry for himself a bit longer (approximately 3 minutes).
Finally he decided this was so far his best sexual experience and set to memorizing every last moment of that perfect dream.
Anyway, John would never know.