The Adventure at Baskerville Hall & Other Cases

his movements grew more erratic when he felt my tongue on his neck. I reached down with my other hand to cup his balls in my palm, squeezing gently, and when I pressed my fingers firmly against the skin behind them, he fisted his hands in my overcoat.
    "John," he said, sounding frantic, "that's it ... I'm going to ... you need a handkerchief, a rag, something , for God's sake–"
    I dragged my coat roughly out of his clutching fingers as I slid down his body, and pulled his cock into my mouth mere seconds before he shuddered silently and finished. I braced his hips against the door as his knees shook and threatened to give out, and slid my lips along his shaft as the taste of his climax flooded my senses. Almost before he had finished, he was tugging me upright again and claiming my mouth in a messy, passionate kiss.
    "My God," he muttered, when he had breath to speak again. His hands cradled my flushed face and I caught the left one, knowing what I would find there before I saw it. I kissed the set of teeth marks that were dug along the side of his hand, and he pulled away and loosened my own trouser buttons.
    "Holmes..." I cautioned, "You know that I am usually rather ... that is to say, it would be inadvisable for me to do this here."
    "I know," he breathed against the side of my face, "just let me feel you, just for a moment."
    His hands slipped below my underclothes as he caught my mouth in a kiss. But instead of brushing my groin as I had expected, his hands moved around to cup themselves over the curve of my backside. He squeezed my flesh hard, in stark contrast to the gentle way he drew my lower lip between both of his, and pulled me close against him. My arousal pressed against his hip and he encouraged me to rock against him.
    The familiar rhythm, and the feeling of his hands grasping at my buttocks, sparked vivid memories of intercourse between us, when he was in the habit of grabbing me to pull me more deeply into him. I buried my face in the crook of his neck and shoulder, and told myself sternly that I would pull away after a minute of this, as I could certainly not reach my finish here. One of his hands disappeared for a moment, and when it returned it was in the form of slick fingers pressing into me gently but inexorably.
    It was enough to make me raise my head in alarm. "Holmes!" I choked out. "For heaven's sake, man, we cannot–"
    I cut myself off as his fingers were replaced with something cool and slick and solid, which slid smoothly into me. When he removed his hand the object stayed in place, held firmly by my internal muscles. It was too startling to be erotic, and so I looked at him in surprise and met his gaze, in which lust and amusement were inextricably mingled.
    "Are you all right?" he asked me softly.
    "I am fine. But what in the name of–"
    "I rather thought you might like a small foretaste of what the rest of the evening will bring," he murmured against my ear. "But if you think it would be too much for you then by all means, my dear chap, you need only say the word and we can abandon this plan."
    He looked at me earnestly and I had no doubt that he was sincere, for beneath his impatience and frequent displays of rudeness, I know that he is devoted to me. But there was a wicked, challenging sparkle lurking in the depths of his gaze that called to my own sporting instinct. In a flash I realised that he was teasing me and was not truly expecting me to agree to this; he was anticipating that I would act as the voice of prudence, as usual, and that we would forget the whole proposal.
    The idea of Holmes carrying the device with him, to say nothing of the pot of substance that had eased its passage, was shockingly arousing and it was the knowledge that he had been planning this, as well as my own innate taste for risk-taking, that made me lift my chin proudly.
    "Not at all, Holmes, your suggestion sounds intriguing."
    From the undisguised shock on his face, I knew that my insight had been correct and he had anticipated a refusal from me.
    "Are you really sure?" he demanded.
    "Absolutely." I stepped away to re-fasten my clothing and make myself presentable once more. "It will be an intriguing experiment."
    "Watson..." he seemed lost for words, and settled for repeating himself. "Are you sure? "
    "I am. However, while I am to undergo this test of my fortitude, I am not quite clear on what the ordeal is for you."
    He lunged suddenly, with the agile grace that is so much a part of him, and