#older!john

[mojoflower]

Wrapped Around Your Finger

Heh heh.  Here's another one. I think I'll post this chapter tomorrow.

“I’m going to fuck you, now,” he said, seemingly struggling to enunciate.  “I’m going to bend you over and fuck you.  It’ll feel good.  I’ll make it feel good.”  

He stooped down and grabbed at Sherlock’s crotch, hand unerringly wrapping around his distended cock, still agonizingly tucked against his leg in the trousers.  John tugged until Sherlock rose unsteadily to his feet, following that cruel grip.  John massaged his cock, pushing so hard that Sherlock feared he might finish off right here, before the promised fucking.  

[mojoflower]

A Day Swimming in Smut

You know what I did today?  ALL DAY?  I wrote.  Yay, me.  (Sadly, no porn spree for y'all, though.  Maybe I'll do one tomorrow?)

I've got 8736 words of a Johnlock story (all day, that took me.  ALL DAY!) based on the song Wrapped Around Your Finger by the Police, and it's not much more than an excuse for unmitigated porn (kind of dubcon, y'all.)  With student!Sherlock and older!John.  In Marrakesh, becuase, well that's another story.

Here's another snippet.  This'll be a 4 chapter story, and the first chapter's finis!

John didn't wait, but slipped a third finger into the mix, pressing all three home, plunging in and out of Sherlock’s body at an almost brutal pace, and Sherlock whined and wiggled under his chest, against his thighs, sleek cock throbbing in his hand.  He turned his fingers upward, searched, rubbed and stroked, found the smooth nodule of Sherlock's pleasure, and worked it ruthlessly.  Sherlock moaned and panted and jerked so hard that John had to let go of his cock.  He grabbed one of Sherlock’s arms and twisted it into the small of his back, quickly following with the other, and then held them both pinned there, grasping hard around his wrists, pushing down with his chest.

Sherlock was so hot he thought his skin might split, lubricated with sweat and oil and the enticing smell of the man along his back, heady and intoxicating.  His hands were firmly pinned against his back, he could hardly move, much less struggle, and John was doing something, something /inside him, that had sparks lighting up behind his eyes, had his cock jumping and leaking, had his stomach roiling with butterflies and the sweat on his body turn cold and prickling.

John’s fingers slid out, and Sherlock heard the jar of oil again, the rude squelching as it was slicked onto some body part that did not belong to him.  “Now, my little virgin,” John panted against his back, not tall enough to reach his ear at the angle.  John’s knees pushed his own wider still, lowering his rear to the height that John required for the act.  “/Now I will fuck you.”

Sorry to the folks waiting for Hatch.  I'll get back to that tomorrow.  My brain just wouldn't settle until I spewed this out.

[mojoflower]

Dammit. IT's Penis Friday, isn't it?

You'll have to settle for porn snippets instead of my usual gifs and nsfw fanart.  I've been bit by the Muse today (7k words so far!) for this new story (Wrapped Around Your Finger w/student!Sherlock and older!John).  Here you go:

He worked his fingers into the cleft, the meridian of Shrlock’s arse, and rubbed them down, dry and just shy of painful, down until they touched the tightly closed hole there, and Sherlock jumped, frightened and intrigued and bewildered.

John bit his neck.  Hard, merciless and Sherlock shuddered at the pain, felt the bruise he sucked to the surface of Sherlock’s previously unmarred skin, and felt a surge of fluid released from his cock, choking and garbling in his unexpected orgasm, pushing against John’s belly as John pushed against his arsehole, which spasmed around the tip of the finger that he’d slid in.

The stood still for a moment.  Sherlock was afraid to lift his head, sure he'd done something unforgivable, coming before his host and teacher the way he had.  John kept his fingertip inside Sherlock, dry and burning, gently pulsing in and out as the post orgasmic shudders slowly shivered to a halt.  “I’m sorry, sir,” Sherlock whispered miserably into John’s shoulder.  “I’m sorry.  I-”

John pushed Sherlock’s head back so he could see his face and then he smiled.  “It’s alright.  You’re young enough to go another round.  But.  Next time,” and his voice dropped into a low tone of command, still friendly, but implacable.  “Next time, you come when I say you can, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”