The Motion of the Ocean (Johnlock)

The Motion of the Ocean

"Please, John," Sherlock gasped, his voice deep and scratchy with need. "I'm ready."

John ran a soothing hand down his sweat-damp back, Sherlock curling up into his touch like a cat. He loved seeing Sherlock in this state. So aroused and responsive, totally focussed on the moment and the sensations John was immersing him in.

Sherlock was breathtakingly gorgeous like this. Completely naked, his ivory skin smooth and perfect, a little flushed in places. His hair mussed from when they were kissing in the kitchen, before moving to the bedroom. His knees spread wide on the sheets, giving John the best access he could.

John ran his hands over the pleasing roundness of Sherlock's ass. It was one of the things he found most attractive on his flatmate. Sherlock knew it, wearing tight trousers perfectly tailored to show it off.

Now, Sherlock wiggled under John's touch. "John, John... please," he moaned, pressing back towards him.

John had prepped him thoroughly, with lots of lube and working his fingers in slowly. He teased Sherlock lots, occasionally stroking his cock or rubbing more firmly on his prostrate. Working him up to this perfect, almost delirious state of desire.

Now, he eased in slowly, knowing Sherlock would take the first few inches easily, but the rest would be much harder. He didn't want to overwhelm Sherlock, have him think it was too much. The thickness was the initial challenge, and John made sure he was well lubed, using shallow thrusts as Sherlock relaxed more and more. He wanted it, pushing back against John, groaning at the intense sensations.

"You're doing so good, baby. You feel so hot and tight," John said, pressing a few kisses on Sherlock's upper back.

They both moaned when the thickest part was in. John stilled, marvelling at the feeling, letting Sherlock adjust to it as well. "That's it. You are taking it so well."

Sherlock shuddered beneath him, his ass tightening around John in a way that made him want to move fast and hard. Thrusting into him, pounding into him, seeing how much he could take. Make him cum fast and hard.

John took a deep breath, calming that urge, and slowly turned his hand, rocking it from side to side. It moved within Sherlock's well-lubed ass, pressing against his prostrate, bringing out more shudders of pleasure and a bit of a keening moan.

Taking it as a good sign, John continued with small movements, playing around, seeing what Sherlock responded to the most. He hadn't done this with many people before, and it was Sherlock's first time, so he was still learning what worked best.

After a few minutes of that, John curled his fingers towards his palm, making a firm fist. "Can you feel that, Sherlock? My whole hand inside you? Do you want me to fuck you with it?"

Sherlock moaned, his head hanging down as he pushed back towards John. "Fuck. Yes, yes, John," he begged breathlessly.

This was the part John loved the most. Small movements of his fist, pushing slightly deeper, pulling back, twisting, rocking. Pressing firmly against his prostrate and hearing Sherlock's grunt of pleasure. Building up a rhythm. The hardest part, working his hand inside, was done, and now it was playtime. He soon learned what Sherlock liked best, and concentrated on that.

Sherlock was panting hard, his body tensing up as he got closer and closer to the edge. He dropped his head to his pillow, resting the weight of his upper body on to his forearms, rocking back against John's thrusts. "Yes, yes...," he moaned.

John loved the view, the obscene, raunchy sight of his hand up Sherlock's tight ass, stretched snugly around his wrist, dripping with lube. The wet squelch sounds mixing with their panting, and the creaking of the bed. Good sex was noisy and a bit nasty, and he loved that Sherlock was just totally surrendering to it all. Completely in the moment and loving it.