221B-drabble where there are 221 words, the last beginning with a 'B'
The Highest Heaven
It was so much more better than a dream. Dreams never came with the musky fragrance, the sweat glimmering on John's chest as he languished on the chair, legs spread wide to accommodate Sherlock, John's eyes half-lidded in invitation, cupping his own bollocks, watching Sherlock fall down onto his knees and worship.
The first, long, testing lick of Sherlock's tongue was followed by a satisfied sigh rumbling from the depths of Sherlock's desire, small sounds of contentment blissfully rolling along the tip of John's cock, Sherlock's eyes closed against the rapture from the firmness meeting his hollowed cheeks, the enchanted man inhaling, savoring John's manly scent.
Allowing himself a few languid strokes to ease the pressure, Sherlock, used to ignoring his own needs, lunged forth. Needs, except for this; John's cock lodged deep in his throat, listening to the moan, the mewl, the hand gripping hard in his hair, sharing the moment, exposed, vulnerable, trusting… The taste of John on Sherlock's tongue took him to high heavens, the thought of soon being ravished by that cock raising him higher, his own cock leaking over his fingers wrapped tightly around the hot flesh as it threatened to become unbearable to exist without pleading, begging, praying to be fucked.
Not yet. No, because this was Sherlock's Paradise, Eden and Elysium. This was beatitude.