[sherlock] Spirit and flesh

Chapter 8 John

This night, my dreams were strange and colorful. I dreamed of some erotic things. I dreamed that I was tied up and couldn’t move. It's hard to say, but I can't help it.

When I woke up from sleep again, the sky was already bright, and the thin curtains could not hide the sunlight outside. The alarm clock on the bedside showed that it was 10:[-] in the morning. I slept soundly, my My arm was numb, I turned my head and looked, oh my god!

oh!I!of!superior!emperor!

I slept with Sherlock, slept together all night!

His sleeping face was incomparably quiet, his eyelashes rested quietly on his white eyelids, his curly hair was piled up messily on top of his head, his pajamas were unbuttoned, this sleeping appearance was as incomparable as himself.

Well, I'm finally back to reality.

He was lying sideways on my arm, probably lying like this for several hours, not willing to move, no wonder I felt that my arm was no longer on my body, the blood vessels were pressed by him and stopped flowing, I moved my body, Feeling something strange in the quilt, I lifted the quilt to expose my body and his body, "Fuck..." I covered my mouth to prevent myself from screaming.

I can't wake him up in this awkward situation.

Because his damn fingers were holding my morning erection, I let go of my palm on my mouth, then raised my head slightly to look down, and then the back of my head was helplessly limp on the pillow, I felt that God was here Must be sick of me in the morning, my God, his hand is on me!It didn't approach me, nor did it cover it casually, but clenched its five fingers, holding me firmly through a layer of pajama pants and underwear.

...I was speechless for a while, what kind of accident would it take to trigger such an astonishing behavior of his.

I raised my other hand and pinched his wrist, trying to pull his hand away, but Sherlock suddenly exerted force unconsciously in his sleep, and I was about to swear, I held his wrist, and my whole body went limp, Oh no, this feeling is very wonderful, the pleasure is like an electric current rushing from the soles of my feet to the top of my head, I am slightly convulsed like an electric shock in the mattress, I even want to control his hand to play a plane here for myself .

Oh he's holding me tight through his pajama bottoms.

The strength envelops me like a hug, the exquisite fingers that are as flexible as a machine, and the intelligent palm surrounds my fragile foreskin. A strange sound trembles from my throat, and I grit my teeth to hold back the remaining monsters behind. Sound, I looked at my towering pajama pants, a small wet dot gradually appeared at the top, I was surprised to see the wet dot gradually expand, getting wet, seeping through the pants, oh shit, I Desire is fully aroused, and I am fully ready to fuck. Precum is streaming hot from the opening of the urethra.

I withdrew my hand and bit it on my lips. I could neither move him away, nor wake him up, let alone call for help. I felt very helpless.

If only he could jerk it up and down a bit, I shook my head and tried to drive away the nasty thought, I slowly, slowly withdrew my arm from under his head, damn, oh no, Sherlock squinted, didn't know Waking up as if he was somewhere, he finally adjusted the focus of his sight, saw me clearly, and smiled, "Good morning, John."

I froze for a moment, "Morning... good morning, Sherlock."

Your damn hand is on my dick! ! ! !

I swear I almost snarled and yelled in his face, the kind of yell that sent his haughty curls flying back from his head.

Sherlock looked down with a puzzled expression, no no no no, damn it, okay, okay, he sees everything now, understands everything, Sherlock keeps staring at the thing in his hand.

He suddenly smiled again, he looked up at me again and said, "Me too," I swore I didn't know why he was able to be so calm and composed, he said, "I wake up like this every morning. "

"Is it...?" I lay awkwardly in front of him, wondering when on earth it occurred to him that he should let go of his hand, whether it was polite or otherwise, and just hold my penis. As far as this kind of behavior is concerned, it cannot be included in the normal way of greeting in the morning.

"This is a normal physiological phenomenon, John. Some people will have spontaneous erections in unconscious dreams starting after 4 o'clock in the morning. The important manifestation is why men get morning erections. There is still no conclusion in your medical field, because sometimes, it is not only caused by sexual desire, but also the reflection of internal organs can also cause penis erection..."

"Sher...Sherlock, let go of me before you finish the sentence..." I realized I must be blushing, and I really wanted to find something to cover my face.

Sherlock stopped talking, he smiled suddenly, propped up his body, and tightened his fingers around me even harder, I raised my hand and grabbed the pillow, if it wasn't because it made me so excited that I was about to die, I would definitely have to He kicked and flew out the window, oh god, oh god, this feeling is so wonderful, it makes me feel hot, my thighs can't help shaking, my breathing speeds up, it becomes heavy, it's like gasping, I close my eyes Dare to see any shadow of Sherlock.

"It's hard," he said. "It's even harder now."

"Hmm..." I couldn't say anything.

"You like this? To be held by me? You like it?" he asked softly.

I can't nod, I can't.

I made up my mind, pushed his hand away suddenly with shame, and jumped off the bed. I opened the door of his room, ran into the bathroom at the end of the corridor like a sprint, closed the bathroom door, and locked it. I let out a long, hot and uncomfortable gasp, then I stood in the bathtub, drew the shower curtain to block out all disturbances, I couldn't wait to hold the tile wall with my hands, pulled off my pants in a hurry, and wrapped my fingers around the head of my penis , I was indeed very anxious, but at the same time I was obsessed, I was frantically ups and downs in the swamp of carnal desire and lust, I bit my lower lip, closed my eyes obsessively and fought for more than ten minutes, all I thought about was him, I can't change his face into any other scene, I even recalled the obscene sex dream just now, I feel more and more that I dreamed of him too, the one who was buried under me trying to suck and swallow me It's Sherlock Holmes, if I can, I want to use my palms to rub his unruly hair intimately at this moment, I stroke deeply, indulging in my out-of-control fantasy world, I scream hoarsely from my throat , all the muscles in my body were trembling, my legs were stretched straight, but my back was trembling, at the moment when the white light flashed, I shouted out a name that I couldn't say out of my mind, and I masturbated freely until the I painted the walls of his house with my hot and lustful milky cum.

I felt the last aftertaste of orgasm in the bathtub. I moved my fingers slowly, slowly, and squeezed out the last drop of liquid. I stroked the top of my penis, which was swollen and red after ejaculation, and was sensitive. The wetness between my fingers was unbearable to look at. I'm going to lose my footing, I sigh happily, I feel a little ashamed and excited to do such a thing in his childhood home.

I put on a thick floor-length dressing gown and sit in his downstairs dining room enjoying my steaming coffee.

Sherlock sat across from me without saying a word, tapping his fingers on the table impatiently, I looked at his white fingers like the first snow, damn, I was trapped by his fingers, I couldn't pull my eyes out.

"I can hold yours forever if you like," Sherlock said seriously. "What did you do in the bathroom afterwards?"

I almost sprayed the coffee in his face, I coughed and ordered him to lower his voice, "Since your parents are in the living room next door, can you not mention this matter!"

"Tell me what you were doing in the bathroom."

I gave him a blank look, and then I took a shower and wiped out all the evidence of the crime, "Why should I report to you."

Sherlock snorted softly, leaning back proudly against the back of the chair, he stared arrogantly at my face, I knew what he was doing, I wasn't sure if it was the corner of my mouth or the corner of my eye or me The eyebrows would betray all the privacy of my master, I sipped the hot drink in the cup guilty, my eyes looked at another place, I found a meaningless place, stared there, I looked at everything, I just don't look at his face, I'm afraid that as long as I look at him, the deepest secret in my heart will jump out like a slide show and openly play in front of his eyes.

"Hmph." He snorted again dissatisfied, "Here we go again."

"What?" I asked him blankly.

"You don't like to look at me anymore. In your eyes, even the kettle on the stove is more attractive than me."

I looked back and hit him on the face, only when I looked at him, he didn't look so sad, lonely and down, Sherlock said to me in that restaurant before, let me become to him Interested, I suddenly felt that Holmes's so-called interest was not the same thing, the concept of "interested" he said was completely different.

Ordinary people's interest usually refers to physical aspects, but Sherlock is different. His so-called wanting me to be interested in him is purely to keep my eyes from him, not even for a second, otherwise his heart It will shatter all over the ground, and no matter how strong the glue is, it will not stick back.

I realized now that he is still the same Sherlock Holmes who has no interest in sex. Scotland Yard's idiot defines him as asexual. It is not groundless, it is what he usually shows. Yes, I think he is especially proficient in the mating process and post-mating traces of the heterosexual and homosexual reproductive systems. This knowledge will be of great use to him in identifying some special corpses, but it does not mean that he thinks that having sex in bed very funny.

I sighed in front of his eyes and coaxed him, "Come on, John Watson won't do anything today, my eyes are grown on you, I'll just look at you until sunset."

Sherlock smiled like a child again, "John, quick, change your clothes, I'll take you somewhere..." He sprang up from the chair, grabbed my arm and dragged me out.