Wow, I want to thank everyone for their support, you really made a fangirls day much better. As I promised, here´s the sequel for 'Take Me'. Enjoy!

It felt like he hadn´t slept at all. The bell started to ring it´s cheerful tone and John gracefully reached for it and threw on the wall with a grumble. He moved under the blanket, lifting his head up eyes half lidded and winced at the pain that shot through his whole body. Perfect. Just perfect. He smiled despite all it, it had been totally worth it. Carefully throwing his feet over the bed he got up and slowly made his way to the bathroom for a wash-up.

Sherlock woke minutes later with an empty bed, but he soon heard the hiss of the shower in the adjoining bathroom and smiled into his pillow. John. He shifted, groaned - he was sore. Blissfully so. Oh, he'd fucked John yesterday, every single memory preserved forever in his hard-drive. Mmm...yes, so good.
"John," he called. "Come back to bed."

"I still need to get to work." John replied walking out of the bathroom wearing jeans and a towel slung over his shoulder as he dried his hair. He reached for his shirt as he spoke. "I´ll be back after work, you know that."

"But what am I going to do while you're at work, John? All covered in our come, still?" He let his hand trace through the still sticky remnants of the night before, exposing a morning erection to John, a fat smirk planted on his face. "Little image to keep you occupied throughout the day."

"Sherlock." John shook his head pulling the shirt over his head. "Do experiments, the usual stuff you do while I´m working. And how can you be hard so fast?" He chuckled grabbing his jacket and hesitating a moment before leaning beside Sherlock, pressing a kiss on his forehead. "I´ll be back later."

"Just woke up, that's why." Sherlock stretched, morning wood dying down. "Hmmm." He turned over, sulking. "Later..."

Hours later, it was noon, and he was bored. And still naked. And his phone was in his hand. He looked glumly at it, sighing when he realized John still had four hours to go. "Hnnngg..." Then...being Sherlock, he got an idea. A very naughty idea. Speed-dial three. John's number.

"Take the medicine twice a day and you should be alright." John smiled to an elderly woman and steered her out. He sat back on his chair and stretched. He had been three hours at work, four hours to go. Luckily his next appointment was in a hour so he had time to relax and maybe eat or take a nap. That was before his phone rung and he flipped it open without looking at the screen. "What is it now Sherlock? I´m working."

"I'm naked."
"Surprise. You don´t even have the sheet?"
"Nothing, John. I'm hard."
"Still? I think it´d be hurting at this point." John frowned in sympathy.
"I practice. I'm resilient. And I thought I'd have a good wank while you were out but...you're out." Sherlock pulled his phone back, snapping a picture of himself, sent it to John. "Check your messages."

John frowned turning on his computer and checked his email, the picture splayed on the screen making him cough awkwardly. "R-Right...why not take that..wank then?"

"I want you to make me come. From where you are. You can do that for me, can't you John? It's noon, you're on your break since you take the morning shift, and obviously because you answered your phone and took the time to look at a smutty picture, you're alone. And your voice shook." There's a smug grin in his voice. "Am I making you hard, John? Just by my voice?"

"No." John answered quickly, glancing at the clock and bit on his lip. Surely Sherlock wasn´t implying what he thought he was, right? It´d be crazy, he was in work, there were people just outside the door and he could figure out dozen other reasons this was a very bad idea.

"You've got ten minutes. I'll get you off. I'll bet you I can get you off right over this phone." He snapped another picture, more provacative, his face wasn't visible, but...other parts were. "Want you, John." The challenge. "Bet you can't talk me to orgasm."

John opened the next picture he got and had to fight down the groan that threatened to escape his lips. "You´re trying to kill me, aren´t you?" He breathed out, his mind running a mile a minute wheter to take up the challenge or not.

"Maybe. Not your erection, at least. Which I know you have. Your voice is choked, trying not to sound too...enthralled. Is it a nice picture, John? Me with my cock in my hand, stroking myself because I need you? God, I want to suck you off right now. And I want you to watch me as I finger myself, God John, don't you wish you were here?"

John squirmed on his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position to be in. He could imagine Sherlock there, laying on the couch, bored out of his mind and slowly stroking himself. he shivered and wetted his lips, turning his voice lower and rougher. "God yes. Maybe I should try the vibrator on you, huh? Maybe I should tease you to the edge over and over again but never letting you fall?"

"Oh, God, yes," Sherlock murmured, and spits into his palm. "I'm touching myself, John. Tell me how you'd use it on me. Tell me right now."

John groaned silently at the image, closing his eyes and using his imagination to think. "I´d use it on your hard cock. Turn it on the lowest setting and gather the pre-cum up, using it to slick your shaft, teasing the head by just holding the vibrator there while I´d lick my way in your mouth."

Sherlock sighed, his cock twitching in his hand and a dewy drop of precome was instantly visible. "Yes, yes. Lick my nipples while I'm stroking your cock...knowing you're still sore...I want to lick you. I want to lick inside you...oh God, John, tell me more, I'm so hard right now..."

"God Sherlock.." John whined palming himself gently, resuming his task. "I´d take you in my mouth, finally being able to taste you on my tongue. I still haven't done that..pushing the vibrator in you while sucking on the head so hard your eyes are going to roll on the back of your head.."

"Oh they are...John, they already are..." He put the phone down by his thigh, and the slap-slap of his stroking was loud enough to be heard. "Hear what you're doing to me, John? Oh...it's getting so wet." He pulled the phone back up to his ear, tucking it between his cheek and shoulder, other hand pinching and rolling a nipple between his fingers. "I can feel it inside me...you going to move it around, John?"

John let his hand open his jeans fast and he slid his fingers up his aching hard-on, hissing at the sensitive touch. "Of course I´d move it. Oh so slowly, it´d feel minutes before I´d push it back in. Then when you least expect it, I´m changing the tempo to a hard one, fucking you so hard you arch from the bed without a sound because it´s blocked in your throat."
Sherlock gave a little whimper, "Oh, John, you nearly made me come there. Oh god, send me a picture. Send me a picture of your cock, please. I want to see how hard you are."

Without thinking, John found himself obeying. He turned his phone around and took a picture of himself, sending it to Sherlock. "There you go. Look at the picture and imagine it in you, fucking you through the mattress and on the floor below." John whispered huskily, sweeping the thumb over his head gasping.

"God, John, you look so big from that angle," Sherlock whispered. "God, I want to suck you. I want you inside me, god, I wish these were your fucking fingerrrrsss..." He put the phone down again, and yes, he's indeed fingering himself, the slick-slick-slick of spit and pre-come crudely used as lube echoing into the mouthpiece. "Hnn...John...I need it. Oh god, I'm underneath you, and you're fucking me so hard...god, my cock is so wet. Please, John, please..."

"Maybe I´d get you a cockring...buy one someday and slip it on you, would you like that? Not being able to come, even though I´m stroking and fucking you hard enough for you to feel it for weeks." John panted roughly, his hand working furiously on his cock. He wasn´t used to do this, to actually do phonesex but with Sherlock...he groaned at the sound of Sherlock actually fingering himself. "Come on, want to hear you come, come so hard around your fingers and thinking it´s me up your ass."

"Oh god, John, oh my God, I'm coming!" Sherlock let the phone fall onto his chest, crying out in that low, hoarse, baritone voice so well suited for sex. Hot come splattered over his belly, and his fingers made a disgustingly beautiful wet sound thrusting in and out of him. Trembling, he picked up the phone. "John...so good...oh John, are you coming? Are you going to come for me now?"

John was mesmerized by the sound of Sherlock breaking on the other side and he felt dizzy with the power of having to done that to him. The wet noises of his fingers, Sherlock's cry off release and harsh breath was more than enough to send him over the edge and he muffled the cry with his hand, remembering the others outside the door. He whispered Sherlock's name over and over again, hips bucking up from the chair and into his palm as he coated it with his release.

Hands shaking, Sherlock managed to take one last picture of him, smirking on the couch, covered in come, his cheeks and chest flushed. He sent it and put the phone back to his ear. "Ahhh...John...thank you."
John smiled at the picture, taking in the flush and satisfied eyes. He turned his phone and snapped a picture of himself, eyes half-lidded, lips wet and parted and a pink flush of arousal on his cheek, the front of his hair stuck on his forehead with a weak smile. He sent it to Sherlock with a chuckle. "You´re very much welcome. Now I think I have to clean up before the next patient."

"Good luck," Sherlock chuckled. "You're two minutes over your break." With that, he hung up, reclined on the couch, and fell asleep, a smirk on his face.

John cracked his neck as he opened the door to their flat. Greeting mrs. Hudson with a polite smile, John got rid of the shoes and jacket with a yawn, and slowly made his way upstairs. He wondered if Sherlock was still in the sheet or if he had actually clothes on. The call earlier had made him want rush straight back home, but he still had that four hours of work so he had to wait. Now, finally home after an exhausting day, John opened the door and made his way to the kitchen, putting the kettle on. Tea, he needed tea. "Sherlock, I´m home!"

Sherlock woke from his doze on the couch, stretching a leg up so John can see. "Mmmm...over here." He looked at him lazily - he could had been there all day, John would never know...only he did some shopping. Some rather distinct shopping. "Have good day?"

"Normal I think." John replied pouring tea on two cups and walking in the living room, lifting an eyebrow to the lifted feet and handed Sherlock the other cup. "You know, normal if you don´t count the call."

"Count it," Sherlock said, winking at him slyly over the rim of his mug. "Did I brighten it? Were you...pre-occupied by that for the rest of the day? Or do I have to actually send you a video next time?"

"If you mean could I focus on my work, the answer is yes, I could." John replied leaning back on his armchair, taking a sip from the mug and humming satisfied as the hot liquid poured down his throat.
Sherlock skimmed his fingers over John's knee, catching the shiver - it's 1/16th of an orgasm. "Hm...well. I did some shopping."

"You? Shopping?" John stared at Sherlock disbelieving. Sherlock never did shopping, not even if you threatened him with an axe. "Did you bring jam?"
Sherlock slinked over to settle in John's lap. "No...that would be a reward, wouldn't it? You left me all alone today so..." He bent closer and whispered in John's ear. "You need to be punished again."

John shivered all over, his breath leaving in fast swoosh. "I...I needed to go to work Sherlock, you know it.."
"Mmmm...but you didn't do what I wanted you to, which was stay home," Sherlock purred, pressing John into the sofa cushions. "I'd say that's disobeying me, isn't it?"

"No, I´d say that´s trying to keep my job." John explained hoping right now that he could vanish through the chair. Sherlock's eyes and smile were down right predatory.
Sherlock sinked his hands into John's hair and wrenched his head back to expose his throat. "No. It's disobeying me. And now..." He raked the nails of his other hand down John's chest. "You're going to have to face the consequences. But first..." He pressed a kiss to the thick throb of his pulse. "I get to indulge, because I missed you. Kiss me."

John gasped as his head was wrenched back, trembling slightly at the nails against his chest and he swallowed thickly. "It´s..I have to work Sherlock.." He wrenched his head back up and obeyed Sherlock, but just to revenge on him he brushed their lips together feather like, adding the slightest hint of pressure against his lips and keeping the kiss gentle and tender.

Sherlock pressed both hands to John's chest, kissing him sweetly, innocently, if that could be said about Sherlock, almost romantically. He sensed John's relaxation, his easing into it, and suddenly forced his mouth open and devours him, hungry, full of hot lips and slick tongue and clicking teeth and biting and curling and hands in hair. It's mad and passionate, and just as a startled and overwhelmed John started kissing back, he pulled away, staring at him intently. "Well John...what kind of punishment do you think you deserve?"

John let out a strangled gasp as Sherlock all but devoured him, changing the innocent kiss in a hot, messy, passionate one. His tongue was in his mouth, exploring demandingly, his teeth clashing together and when he pulled away, he left John breathless, panting up at Sherlock shaking his head." It´s my work Sherlock...work. Like you solve crimes, it´s something I must do."

Sherlock clapped a hand to John's mouth. "Not up for discussion, John." He's firm, eyes cold and hard. "Understand? Now..." His eyes raked down John's form, sitting on the couch, languid and lazy. "Hm...I know just the thing." He stood up, swaying a little bit, and began to slowly, very slowly undo the buttons on his shirt.

"B-but I-" John gives up talking with a sigh, looking up at Sherlock. As he started to unbutton his shirt, John found himself licking his lips unconsciously, watching how Sherlock was trying to seduce him...and probably succeed on it.

Sherlock pulled the tails of his shirt out of his trousers and finished the last round of buttons, letting it hang open. The line of his hips was visible just above the waist of his pants, and he walked to straddle John's lap, leaning back and pulsing to an invisible beat that only he could hear, the long line of his torso all creamy white and delicious and absolutely John's.

John swallowed thickly, his eyes taking in the ivory collarbones, firm chest and the v-shape of his hips. His shirt was just adding on the effect, moving around Sherlock like a wave as he moved against him with a rhythm of his own body.

Sherlock smiled, slow as syrup, inching his way back up and gyrating a little bit. He's getting hard - the way John was staring at him is just making his blood boil. His hands went to the button on his pants, and he teased it. "What are you hoping to see?"

John licked his lips again, finally bringing his hands up and touching that marbel-like skin with a soft sigh. "Everything you have to offer.." He breathed sliding his hands up and into his hair, tugging gently at the soft curls.

Sherlock slapped his hand away, glaring. "No touching. You get to look. And look only." He twisted slightly, his back cracking as he did so, sighing deliciously. "Just for that," he said, "I have a...present for you." He reached into a pocket and pulled out...a cockring.

Johns eyes widen almost comically and his breath catches in his throat. "N-No way Sherlock-!" He almost hisses, leaning flush against the cushions and trying to melt through them.
Sherlock grabbed him by the shirtfront and licked along his chin. "It's what you get, John. You get to be the first to wear it. I may not let you come for hours. Get used to the idea." The heat was coming off him now, coming off in waves. He let the ring fall around a few fingers, undoes his trousers so John could see the bulge in his briefs, the tip of his cock wet and darkening the fabric. "Want them off, John?"

"For hours?" John asked weakly, swallowing the lump down his throat and gasps as cold air hit his erection through the briefs. "B-but you didn´t say I couldn´t touch, how was I supposed to know?"
"I'm schooling you, John." Sherlock wet two of his thumbs and begun circling his own nipples. "You have to -hnnn...- learn what I like." He jerked at the button to his own trousers and instantly let John see that he's wearing no underwear whatsoever. "Mmmm..." He let the shirt slip off his shoulders, grinded a little bit, heat coming in waves off his body like a small sun, the center of his own solar system where all things John revolved around him. "What are you thinking, John?"

John wetted his lips once again, his eyes fixed on the movement of Sherlock's fingers and relished on the short gasp the man let out. "Commando? Really?" He asked eyes drifting lower, taking in the hard cock in front of him. He was thinking so many different thoughts right now, it was hard to voice them though. "I´m thinking how gorgeous you look like this."

"Mmmm, I like that. Tell me more. Serve my vanity," Sherlock murmured, leaning forward wrapping his arms around John's neck, his chest at John's face level. "Have a taste. That's your reward."

John didn´t hesitate this time, moving his lips closer and latched them around the left nipple. He tasted the salty skin, licking and sucking on the bundle roughly. "Look amazing like this.." he murmured between gentle bites.

Sherlock let out a moan and gently brought his hands up to tangle in John's short hair. "Mmmm...feels good," he sighed brushing his cock up against John's clothed one and working his hips. "More. Tell me more. Touch me more. But not too much."

John licked around the nipple, tugging it in his mouth. What exactly was too much for Sherlock? If he crossed the line, it´d know more 'punishment', and John wasn´t sure just how much he could take anymore. He answered the grind with a slow roll of his own hips.
Sherlock sighed slipping his hand down to plunge into John's briefs, caressing his cock and tugging on his hair. "Mmm...oh John, that's perfect." He lifted himself a bit. "Suck me off."

"It´s a little-" John cut himself off with a moan, trembling slightly at the touches in his briefs and bit his lip. "-hard to concerate on something-nnnghh-when you´re doing that-"

Sherlock rocked and twisted until he's on top of John, straddling his chest. "Now. Suck."
John twisted his head lightly, licking his lips at the hard member in front of his face. Bending his head he took the head in his mouth, sucking lightly and swirling his tongue around it, moaning softly at the taste that exploded in his mouth.

Sherlock groaned, leaning forward and tried to push further into John's mouth. "More John. Feels so good, oh yes. More. Take more of me, all of me!"

John let out a choked noise as Sherlock pushed deeper in his mouth, reflectively swallowing around him. He flattened his tongue and licked up the underside of his shaft, pushing his head back to suck on the head before moving back forward.

Sherlock grabbed him by the temples holding his head still and fucked his mouth, panting, not too deep so John would choke, but enough to render him a little senseless, so he knew who's playing top here. "Hnn...oh yes. Oh John..." He had to stop, pulled his cock from John's lips with a pop, stayed there shivering, eyes closed. "God...your mouth is too good." He tugged at the waistband to his briefs. "You're overdressed."

John let out a whimper when Sherlock pulled away from him, he wanted to taste more of him, he wanted Sherlock to come down his throat. He shifted under Sherlock, looking up at his darkened eyes and shivered under the intense gaze.
Fingers went under the waistband of John's underwear and soon Sherlock was stroking his cock, pressing a knuckle behind his balls and swiping his thumb over the tip. John's sensitive, and looked on the verge of something, and suddenly Sherlock had ducked down and fastened the cockring on him. "There now," he said. "Now I can do however I please."

John had been on edge of coming. He had been so close, he really needed just few more strokes- the blunt pressure on the base of his cock made his eyes snap open and he realized Sherlock had managed to push the ring around him. Letting out a surprised and shocked sound, John tried to scramble up and tug the ring away. He needed to come, he needed it damn it.

Sherlock grabbed his wrists and forced them above his head. "Don't even," he snarled, and there's a sick kind of enjoyment in those eyes. "You deserve it." He bent down, his cock dripping on one of the sofa cushions, and took John into his mouth - he's lavish where he was once harsh and hard and fast. He licked from root to tip, circling the head, takes in everything. He massaged the little strip of skin behind John's balls, sucking hard on the tip of his cock. "Enjoying it?"

John threw his head back with a cry. He was so close to the edge, he was on the thin line of gray between white and black, but he couldn´t fall over. He wasn´t let. He tried to push his hands free, finally having enough strength to put his army training in good use and managed to flip them over, John straddling Sherlock's lap panting, eyes staring right back at him. "Take. It. Off."

"It's this or the vibrator, John. And if you argue anymore, it'll be both." Sherlock took the moment to slip a finger warningly between his buttocks, hand fastened firmly on his cock. "Don't test me. Be a good boy."

John gasped out, tensing and whole body trembling. It felt like he was bursting, exploding inwardly. He tightened his grip against his chest, his hand moving over Sherlock's shakily, toying with the ring. "I mean it Sherlock.." John said silently, licking over his lip.

"Take a break, then," Sherlock laid back with a sigh. "Touch me. It'll take your mind off it. And take your shirt off, I want to see all of you."

"It doesn´t take anything away from anything." John hissed shaking his head. He was aching, he wanted it so badly. "I´m taking it off." He thought to himself, fingers sliding around the ring, trying to figure out how it worked.

"Stop it, or I'll tighten it and tease you for hours," Sherlock snapped, slapping his hand away. "Now touch me. Or I will get the vibrator." As though to help guide John in the right direction, he took his hands and placed them on his chest, right over his hardened nipples, encouraging him to explore.

John let out a sigh, deciding to give it a try and twirled his fingers around the hardened peaks, rubbing them between two fingers and tugging gently.
"Oh John, the things I'm going to do to you," Sherlock breathed, eyes falling closed. "I'm going to touch you and lick you and suck you and tease you until you're begging me for mercy, until you're not sure you can take anymore, and then I'm going to spread you apart and lick inside you until you're screaming my name...or beyond that point, until you can't talk anymore. Then I'll fuck you until you just about break apart, until you're completely gone, and then finally, maybe I'll consider letting you come. Oh John, does that sound good? Do you want me to turn you over and fuck you like a power-hungry general would on one of those nights, high on adrenaline where you just needed to shag something?"

John gasped at the words, letting out an embarrassing whimper past his lips, hips jerking against Sherlock and his head hanging low between his shoulders. "That never happened.." He said between his teeth, his cock twisting and he gulped in air.

"Yes, but you wanted it to, didn't you?" Sherlock purred, his cock brushing against John's belly, tilting his hips so he touched John's cock with his own. "Mmmm...didn't you, John? So many sticky fumblings with yourself, too proud to just ask someone to give you a hand?" He rolled them over and grinds his semi-clothed ass against John's sensitized erection. "Doesn't that sound like something grand?"

John squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. "I was there...to heal the injured.." He said weakly, releasing a moan as Sherlock grinded himself against him.
"You were still a soldier," Sherlock said huskily, biting down on his collar and lining their erections up. "Give me your hand." He took John's hand wrapping their fingers around them both, beginning to stroke them together. It's slow and achingly sensual, and they're kissing and sighing and thrusting and it's sloppy and hot and messy and kinky all half-clothed and good and perfect.

John groaned and pushed his hips up to his own hand, relishing the feeling of their erections together, sliding his tongue in Sherlock's mouth and sucking on his tongue.
"John...I'm so close...are you close?" Sherlock was rutting against him with animal force, and he could feel John's restrained cock pulsing against his, knew how much it must pain him, pleasure and agony and heat and so much Sherlock. "Need to come?"

"Yes..yes..." John whimpered, stroking them both faster and dug his heels on the cushions, lips parted in slow pants.
"Too bad." Sherlock shoved John's thighs up and over his forearms, calves momentarily propped on his shoulders, slinking down to push his knees closer to his shoulders so John's ass was so perfectly laid before him. He loved rimming, he really did, and John responded so beautifully to it, and he's soon licking and probing greedily with tongue and lips and taking moments here and there to bite a cheek, up to suck on a testicle.

"Holy-!" John shouts out, clenching automatically around Sherlock's tongue, moaning out before pushing his fist in his mouth, biting the knuckles and squeezing his eyes shut. The warm, wet muscle made him tremble, his cock feeling impossible full against his stomach. He was aware he let some small noises escape his parted lips and he trashed his head to the other side, panting heavily.

Sherlock was laughing, actually laughing. God, he's enjoying this. He licked John deeper, until his jaw ached and he's deep inside, tongue twisting and wriggling and slipping a finger inside to brush across his engorged prostate.
Johns eyes snap open at the laugh and immediate push against his prostate, his back arching from the couch in a keen. He had never heard Sherlock laugh like that, obviously joyful and dark and god he wanted to hear it more often.

Sherlock felt him still a bit sticky and loose from the day before, the night before, all those orgasms having relaxed and loosened him beautifully. Still, it's a little rough as he shoved three saliva coated fingers inside John and begun thrusting, letting John drape his thighs over his shoulders.
John tensed, his back holding the arch it had formed, his eyes wide open and lips parted in a silent scream. It burned, god it burned, but it sent a wave of arousal through him, making him tremble and moan silently. He pushed back against the fingers, shouting out as Sherlock brushes past his prostate.

Sherlock, ever changing, suddenly pulled out. "I'm tired of doing this for you," he said, reclining back on the sofa. "Now. Finger yourself. Right now." He grinned, John was red lipped and hazy eyed and his cock was thick and dark against his belly and straining against the cockring. "And don't even think about taking that off."

"W-what-?" John breathed out, a new blush coloring his cheeks in dark red color. He had never done that to himself, it was..."Are you serious..?" He asked with a whimper, breathing heavily and swallowed, finding his traitorous finger slide down his leg.
"You heard me," Sherlock said sternly. "Now do it or we're done here." He stroked his own cock and motioned John to turn around. "Turn. I want to watch you do it. And don't forget to look back at me, I want to see you enjoying it."

John stilled, looking at Sherlock with wide eyes before slowly turning around on his knees, lip between his teeth as he turned his head to look at Sherlock. "It´s embarrassing.." He whispered silently, pushing his fingers in his own mouth, moaning around them.

"I know," Sherlock murmured, leering at him with unabashed glee and arousal. "But it makes me so hard just imagining you doing it. So..." He flapped a hand at John. "Go on. Finger yourself."
John slid his finger down his back, shivering slightly and slowly pushed a finger inside himself, gasping and moving slowly against the finger as he pushed it in him again and again, his cheeks flushed as he looked at Sherlock with half-lidded eyes.

"More, John. You can take it," Sherlock said, his eyes captivated, pupils blown with arousal, speeding up his strokes to stay hard, to take the edge off so he doesn't come right there. "I'm going to bury myself in you...make sure you're ready."

John let out a whimper, adding second and third finger immediately and moaned falling against his other hand, his fingers thrusting into himself in steady rhythm. It felt weird, it was a weird angle.
"Mmmm, yes John. That's good, you're so beautiful spread out like that..." Sherlock had a finger pushing gently inside himself, mirror neurons firing as he watches John stretch and prep himself. "Can you imagine me, John? Imagine my cock inside you? Does it feel good, John?"

"God yes.." John moaned practically fucking himself with his fingers. His cock was hard and aching, it pulsed rhythmically and he wanted so badly to reach out and pry the ring away from him. If he was fast enough, maybe he could do it. He jerked forward with a cry, managing to push the sweet spot in him.

"Just like that, John, yes." Sherlock was breathing hard through his teeth, stroking firmly but slowly now as he watched John thrust and moan and writhe before him. "God...that's enough. That's enough, that's enough." He launched forward and grabbed his hips, pressing Johns face into the sofa. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small tube - it's a small pack of lube, which he quickly smeared onto his cock and quickly on and inside John, giving his fingers a little wriggle to remind him who's boss. There's a lot of slipping and sliding and maneuvering until he moaned, sinking inside John with his hands planted firmly on the doctor's hips.

John threw his head back with a cry of pleasure, fist tightening on the cushions as Sherlock started to fuck him slowly. He let his head fall back on the cushions, turning his head to the side and breathing hard. The pleasure was growing all the time, the teasing had just increased everything. His senses were heightened and still overstimulated, making him whine softly. "S-Sherlock.." John pleaded silently, he wanted it already.

Sherlock was impatient - for all his relevance and his slowness and his downright worshipping abuse of John's body, he wanted it, and he wanted it now. He bent low over John's back and fucked him in short, sharp thrusts, licking and sucking at the tip of his ear, reaching around to teasingly thumb the head of his cock. "Are you sorry, John? Are you sorry you left me?"

"You know I-nnnh-I had to go Sherlock...I have to keep my job-" John panted sweat forming on his forehead, hands fisting on the cushions.
"You better say it, John, or I won't take this off..." Sherlock gav his cock a quick jerk, tickling right around the cockring and drilling his prostate with the head of his dick. "Now, are you sorry?"

John cried out, bucking against him and he finally gave up. "Yes, okay, yes! I´m so sorry I left you!" He practically shouted, trembling against the couch with heavy pants.

"Very good, John," Sherlock purred in his ear. "Now, what do you need? What do you need from me? You need to tell me or I won't know."
"Let me...let me come..." John whispered silently, swallowing thickly. "Please..I need it.."

Sherlock grinned into his shoulder. "Very well, John," he said, very business-like. He turned John over onto his back again and hiked one leg over his shoulder, then carefully, ever so carefully released the ring, slowly so John didn't come at once. "Now, let's try this," he murmured, and leaned forward to rock his hips upward, rolling in smooth, even thrusts inside John, angled directly and perfectly, stroking him in an off-beat that never left him without some kind of stimulation.

"Oh god...oh god oh god oh god-!" John gasped and shouted out as his release finally slammed on his full powered, shooting thick, white ropes on his and Sherlock's stomach, his muscles spamming and back arching. He trembled from the power of it, his cock pulsing again and again as fireworks exploded before his eyes.

Sherlock groaned as John clenched around him like a vice, sucking in air so hard through his teeth that they grew suddenly cold and ache, making him shiver. "Almost...almost!" He's relentless, pushing right through John's orgasm and started fucking him harshly, obeying the part of his brain that slammed on the brakes of logic and just urges him "fasterfasterfaster" towards orgasm. He grabbed John's hips and fucked him impossibly deep, feeling him still twitching and pulsing and hearing his name said thickly through teeth and tongue and lips below him. "I'm going to-!"

And it hit him with hurricane force, sending him forward and in and hot inside John, his hips bucking and pressing deep to make sure John could feel him pulsing, and he hissed, "Oh, John, I'm -coming,-" nails coming to scrape down his back, dig into his hips. "Oh John...you've made me come so -hard-..."

John keened, his eyes open and staring at the roof as he felt Sherlock come inside him in deep bursts, melting his insides and making him moan out. He was still trembling over his own orgasm, his legs shaking and falling limp on the couch. "Serves...serves you right.." He managed to get out with a grin.

Sherlock trembled above him, limbs about to give out, but he's still controlled as he descends to roll John over and kissed his neck. "There now," he purred. "I think you're just about disciplined enough." He sunk down and curled up by John's side. "How do you feel?"

"I..don´t know. Good, great, satisfied..and I have a urge to hit you for keeping me waiting that long." John replied with a yawn and small smile, turning on his side to look at him.

"Well, you deserved it, John. And I don't think I want to punish you anymore for the night. In fact, I'd like to sleep with you. Just sleep." He stood up stretching. "Oh, you've made my knees so weak." There's come dripping along his inner thighs as well. He looked down at John, who's got come leaking from his ass onto the couch - it's perfectly filthy. "Mmm...come to bed."

"You really mean just sleep? I don't have to worry about waking in middle of the night when you try to be sneaky and molest me in my sleep?" John asked stretching himself carefully and got up wobbly legged, ignoring the come that leaked from him.

"You've rendered my cock unusable for at least 24 hours. I'm sore." Sherlock said ignoring John's disbelieving 'you´re sore, what about me?' face and pulled him in kissing him. "You were that good." He wandered hand in hand with him, to the bedroom, where he's quick to clean them up. "As for the sleep molestation...only if I get bored. But I can't wring you dry. Maybe we'll lay off the sex for a month or two, see how much you miss it." He winked - John looked a little horrified. "But I doubt that I could wait that long, so you needn't worry."
He pushed John down on the bed. "I want to spoon. Want to be intimate with you." He crawled over and kissed his injured shoulder, which he's made sure he won't lay on. "You want to hold me or me, you?"

"You´ve been on top for two days, I think I´m going to spoon you." John replied pulling Sherlock flush to his chest, arms wrapped around his waist and nose brushing on the nape of his neck. He pressed a tender kiss on the curls and sighed softly. "Goodnight Sherlock."

Sherlock settled - John was warm and lovely and solid behind him, and it's almost unbearably intimate. He was more content than he's been for a while. "Mmm...goodnight John."