On Account of Love by Clonesgirl
The following morning when I came down to breakfast he greeted me as normal. His head was buried in The Times and he said little. After breakfast I dressed, but before going to my surgery I stuck my head into the sitting room where Holmes still had his head buried in the paper.
"Holmes?"
He did not look up. "Yes, Watson."
"We can... talk later. All right?"
"Of course."
I went to my surgery and was there for most of the day. I finally saw my last patient around a quarter past five. I had had little lunch and was starving as well as exhausted as I made my weary way through cold and windy streets back to Baker Street. I was looking forward to a hot bath and a good dinner. Then perhaps Holmes and I could sit down over a brandy and sort things out between us, although I was still unsure of exactly what I wanted to say to him.
When I arrived home I went straight up to my room, undressed and took a long, hot bath. Oh, it was luxurious to just lie there and soak and not think about anything in particular. Afterwards, feeling somewhat apprehensive as I was still uncertain of the method I should use to tell my friend that I could not return his desires, I dressed for dinner and went downstairs to the sitting room. Holmes had his head buried in a book on ancient Sumerian manuscripts, but he looked up and greeted me when I entered the sitting room.
"My dear chap, you look exhausted!" he exclaimed. "Here, have a seat. Would you care for a cigar? Or perhaps a brandy?" he inquired solicitously.
I gratefully sank down and accepted a brandy from him. He continued to fuss and inquired if he should have Mrs Hudson send up dinner straight away. I gratefully agreed and shortly thereafter our good landlady arrived with a simple but excellent repast.
As we ate he spoke of his studies of the day and I watched him. He had not had a case for a week now, yet he bore none of the hallmarks of his habitual cocaine usage. Indeed he seemed to me to be at his most normal, although I must admit that what might be considered normal for Sherlock Holmes would in all likelihood be considered exceeding strange for anyone else.
After Mrs Hudson had cleared away the dishes we retired to sit by the fire with our port and cigars. Conversation lagged and there was an awkward silence. I reflected that from the day I had moved in there had rarely been awkward silences between us. Not any more, I thought ruefully. Obviously Holmes was waiting for me to speak; I only wished I knew what I wanted to say to him.
"Holmes?"
He looked up at me. "Yes, Watson?"
"Holmes, I would like for us to discuss your..." I had almost said proposal, but realised at the last moment that it would sound as though Sherlock Holmes had proposed marriage to me; but, then again, was that not exactly what he had done? He had proposed a lifetime partnership for the two of us, both business and personal. "...well, that is, your suggestion of last night," I continued awkwardly.
He said nothing, merely looked at me, his face more expressionless that I had ever seen it. I realised that he had prepared himself well for my rejection and would not allow himself to reveal his disappointment and I began to get frustrated with this whole situation which he had created, but mainly with myself for handling this so badly.
"Holmes," I began again, "I want you to know that I am honoured that you should think of me that way; that you have chosen me of all people to... to care for..."
"My dear friend," he interrupted, "please do not distress yourself on my account. You wish to tell me that your answer is no. Am I not right?"
Damn him, he was always right! But what could I say? That I was sorry I could not love him the way he wanted? That I was sorry but I did not want to marry him even if we legally could? That I was so very, very sorry that I could not give him what he wanted but I was incapable of feeling desire for another male, even one as handsomely built and well proportioned as him. But he had lovely eyes, I thought absently, and such sensitive hands. Unbidden, my mind wondered if those same hands were to touch me in passion, would I feel pleasure? Ridiculous! I found the thought of participating in an act of sodomy revolting, especially to be on the receiving end, so to speak. So why then had I always found him attractive? Nonsense! Anyone would find him attractive; after all he was a most handsome specimen of manhood and just because I found him handsome did not mean that I desired him. Oh, this was awful!
"Holmes, please, hear me out."
He nodded.
"As I was saying, I am honoured that you should think so highly of me and I am flattered by your kind offer. You are also a man who is thoroughly worthy of love. You deserve to be loved, completely and wholeheartedly, but I fear that I cannot give you that kind of love - the kind that you need, that is. Alas, my friendship and support are all that I have to offer you."
I shook my head. Why did this have to be so awkward? I could feel my frustration rising. "Damn it all, Holmes, this is not what I wanted to say to you!" I blurted.
"Then say it, my friend," he said mildly. "Do not hold back on my account. Say exactly what you want to say."
"Oh, Holmes, for heaven's sake, much as I care for you - and I really do care for you, my friend - but I am not into sodomy!" I exclaimed, feeling the blood rush to my face.
There was a small smile on his lips as he looked at me. "Who says you have to be?" he retorted calmly.
I felt emotionally naked before his gaze, as I often did, and turned away from him. "I know... I mean... I do know what men do together." My tongue no longer seemed to be working properly and I stumbled awkwardly over the words. "After all, I am a doctor."
"Have I asked you to participate in an act of sodomy?"
I kept my back turned to him. "Well, no, but I assumed... I mean, that is..." I stumbled awkwardly to a halt.
He reached out to grip my shoulder and the feel of his hand there calmed me somewhat.
"Have I not told you never assume, my friend? I would never ask you to participate in any act which you found abhorrent to your gentle nature. I wish only to give you pleasure," he murmured fondly, his lips very close to my ear, "the sweetest, most exquisite pleasure, that we might share it together, and learn of each other, and eventually explore all the facets of love and desire that two people may share. As you know, I am not experienced in the ways of love, but I have conducted considerable research - you know my methods - and I have come to realise that there is so very much more that we could share, together, and, forgive me for saying so, dear friend, but I find you so very... very... desirable..." his voice dropped to a whisper in my ear and a shiver went up my spine, "...and if you would but allow it, I would give you bliss beyond your wildest imaginings."
I stood entranced, totally captivated by the spell he had woven as his mouth fell to my neck and I felt the touch of warm lips on my skin.
I allowed him to turn me around and stared at him in shock.
He was smiling openly at me. "Come, dear friend, and let us share the mystery and the pleasure of the senses God has given us. It will be our grandest, most glorious adventure of all!"
This man knew all my weaknesses; he knew I could never resist the lure of the unknown, and this was unknown territory indeed! There was also my implicit trust in him, my unshakeable faith that he would do nothing to harm me. Add to this the fact that my heart was pounding like it would jump out of my breast, I felt most vitally alive and every nerve ending in my body seemed to be tingling.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm my racing heart and from somewhere the words came that would shape my future - and his.
I smiled at him a little shakily. "Yes. Yes, it will."
As I watched him his eyes widened in disbelief then closed briefly as though overcome by strong emotion before once more gazing at me in that direct way of his.
"Yes, my friend, I will embark on this new adventure with you, and we shall see where it may lead us, and if it leads us into territory bright with promise and hope, then the risk will have been worth it. Also, I wish you to know that, whatever may happen this night, or in the future, you will always be my dearest friend."
His profound relief at my acceptance was obvious in his trembling lips and his huge eyes, now luminous with tears.
"Yes, we will always be friends," he murmured somewhat tremulously. "My gallant John, you have the stoutest of hearts!"
"There are none more brave than yours, my friend."
"Oh, John!"
He hugged me briefly before pulling back to look at me, his hands running over the lapels of my jacket.
I nodded at him, acknowledging that I was willing to defer to his judgement and he grasped my jacket and slipped it off my shoulders and down my arms, reaching to deposit it on the settee. He then did the same with my waistcoat. Then his hands were at my throat undoing the my tie and removing it before unbuttoning my shirt. As more of my neck was exposed his mouth returned to it again, kissing; kissing it everywhere; running his lips up my throat while his hands stroked lightly and possessively up and down my arms through the thin material of my shirt. I thought of how capable and sensitive his hands were and how very delicate his hand movements could be. But his mouth... Oh, Lord, his mouth! I had always loved the feel of soft lips on my neck and it was so very long since I had known it and, oh, but the touch of his warm lips, as soft and pliant as any woman's, was delicious.
His lips moved down to my shoulders leaving soft, sucking kisses in their wake and I realised that he was possessing me with his mouth, and with his hands, and I cared not that what we did was forbidden by law for the sensations he was creating were awakening in me a most delightful hunger.
As he removed my cufflinks and slid my shirt from my arms it occurred to me that I had never thought of him as a sensual being - and yet he was. How often had I seen him run his fingertips over the surfaces of furniture and sundry other objects and ignored the implications of my friend's sensitivity and sensuality? Well I was learning of it now, I realised with some trepidation as I felt him take hold of my hands and then felt his lips on them, kissing each finger in turn, kissing my palms, then licking them with his warm, wet tongue.
Never before had I felt this, and there was something so incredibly sensual in the feel of his tongue on my palms that I was helpless to prevent my body's reaction, and indeed did not wish to. I began to respond, reaching out to touch his face as his mouth moved to the inside of my wrists.
His face was a revelation; alive with desire, eyes bright with pleasure and lips parted as his breath came in short gasps. I remembered the touch of his lips on my own from the night before and wondered now what it would be like to really share a kiss with him.
Without conscious thought my fingers stroked his smooth cheeks and I saw his face come closer until, oh, Lord! our lips touched briefly, delicately. I gave a small involuntary gasp of pleasure, as indeed he did also. Mere inches separated our searching gazes and I was mesmerised by his beautiful grey eyes as again our lips met, this time lingering. My eyes closed in sheer unadulterated bliss and from somewhere in the region of my throat came a whimper of helpless delight.
Oh, but the touch of his lips on mine was pure heaven and my body reacted swiftly; my heart raced, every nerve ending came alive and my member swelled deliciously in my trousers. I could not remember ever becoming so aroused just from two chaste kisses.
As our lips continued to meet I realised that he was holding back on my account, no doubt fearful of frightening me with his ardour. I vowed to change that; I might be a virgin with men, but I knew how to kiss and I kissed him now, pulling him closer as his arms went around me, one hand stroking through the hair at the base of my neck and the other around my shoulders. I sucked eagerly at his lips, leaving soft, nibbling kisses on them, listening to his soft moans of pleasure. When I licked at his lips he immediately opened to me, sucking hard on my tongue and emitting a long groan that was sweet to my ears, at the same time pressing the full length of his lean, hard body against my own. For a moment I was startled when I felt his arousal pressing against my own hardness through the thin layers of our clothing, however, I could not help but feel pride that it was I that he desired and I eagerly pressed back against him.. Sherlock Holmes desired me - and the feeling was heady indeed!
Our kisses left us breathless and gasping and I looked up at him in sheer wonder as his hands continued to caress the bare skin of my torso. Then his mouth fell on me again and I ceased to think at all as his tongue insinuated itself between my lips and I stroked it with my own and sucked on it in most avaricious fashion, revelling in the sheer pleasure of kissing in so willing and wanton a manner. After all, I reasoned, I was only human and it was a long time since I had shared something as intimate and pleasurable as a kiss. Additionally, women of my acquaintance did not kiss like Sherlock Holmes; then I remembered that a woman's tongue was somewhat shorter than a man's. If this was a meeting of equals, then so be it and I willingly surrendered myself to the pleasure of enjoying my dear friend's kisses.
Eventually his lips travelled to my cheeks and temples, then my ears; nibbling at the lobes and I gasped in sheer delight as he mouthed them and licked up and down the outer edge; and all the time I was aware of the hard press of his arousal against my own, but it did not frighten me. I was aware only of the utter delight he was creating with his hands and mouth. His lips moved down to my chest then, and I groaned softly as he mouthed my nipples and they responded instantly to his touch.
Oh, but it was delightful to feel his mouth there; to look down and see his dark head bent so assiduously to his task as I thrilled to every sensuous lick of his tongue. For a moment he looked up at me before closing his eyes in concentration and allowing his mouth to claim my rigid nipples again. He began to suck on them avidly and I wondered that I had lived so long and yet had never known the exquisite feel of a tender mouth on my sensitive nipples, and oh, Lord, I was so hard now!
His hands moved lower to caress and squeeze my buttocks, through the material of my trousers; to feel every inch of them. My prick felt swollen out of all proportion, full and heavy and aching with need, causing the front of my trousers to bulge considerably.
Then he knelt down in front of me and I found I was holding my breath in anticipation, wondering what he would do as his eyes fastened on the swelling in my trousers. To my astonishment he pressed his face against my aching loins and whispered my name over and over in the most reverent manner I had ever heard.
In those exceptional moments I looked down at him in awe, glorying in his touch as he used his cheeks, chin and jaw to stroke me deliciously through my trousers while I ran possessive fingers through his now-unruly hair. As he continued to nuzzle me in this tantalising manner I held him close; closer; holding his face pressed hard against my groin as my pulse raced and my mind reeled in unencumbered and joyful rapture.
I gasped out his name, but to my own ears it sounded like a whimper and he looked up at me and murmured, "Hush, my dearest my own, and allow me to ease your suffering - and you are suffering, are you not, my sweet John?" he added wickedly, gazing up at me from beneath his long lashes while his hand continued to stroke me.
"Oh, yes!" I groaned. "Most grievously, I assure you!"
He undid the laces of my shoes and I stepped out of them. He then slid my socks down and removed them also before undoing my trousers and drawers. I watched as his fingers deftly opened the buttons and proceeded to slide both items down over my hips until they fell to the floor and I stepped out of them.
How strange it was to be undressed by another! I could not recall being undressed by another since my mother had undressed me as a small boy; but this wholly sensual experience, accompanied as it was by the sheer carnality and excitement of physical desire, bore no resemblance to that long-ago occurrence.
I stood naked and unashamed before him, knowing that the strength of his desire matched my own in every way. I felt loved. I felt whole. I felt utterly desirable.
I watched now as his hands caressed my legs everywhere, stroking over my calves and thighs. Every nerve in my body was on fire with longing; each touch of his magical fingers seemed to ignite a fresh blaze, culminating in the conflagration at my groin. Oh, it was heaven to be wanted thus; to see and feel his beautiful hands as they stroked my outer thighs before moving to the softer flesh of my inner thighs and I parted my legs a little to give him greater access.
"Oh, my dear, dear friend," he murmured, gazing at my distended member and swollen testicles, "you are a most glorious sight. You can have no idea how very much you please me; how you delight me."
I looked down at my burgeoning manhood and realised with some little dismay that if a woman had seen me thus I would have felt most embarrassed; with Holmes I did not. Perhaps because, being a man, Holmes would understand what a fellow male would feel in such a potentially compromising situation.
"Oh, let me bring you pleasure!" he declared. "Allow me to bring you the rapture you so richly deserve, my sweet Watson. You want me, do you not?" Incapable of speech I merely nodded. "You want me to take you in my mouth and adore you?" I groaned at the erotic imagery his words evoked. "You want that, don't you, my dear? Tell me! Tell me you want that!"
"Oh, yes! Oh, God, yes please!" I moaned helplessly.
"Then tell me," he continued maddeningly. "Tell me what it is you want of me, and I will do it. You know I will. I am your slave. Your slightest wish is my command, my dear. I am yours to do with as you will. I am yours. Command me!"
I leaned down and grasped his arms, pulling him roughly to his feet and kissing him harshly, my mouth bruising his in my need; my tongue thrusting again and again into his heated and delightful mouth, claiming him for my own as my prick rubbed against the hardness at his groin through his clothing.
Finally, I pulled back and looked at him. "Yes, I want you!" I declared boldly, desire loosening my tongue. "I want you to take me in your mouth and swallow me and suck me until I come." I heaved a great, shuddering breath and tried to calm myself through sheer force of will. "But first..." he looked at me in anticipation, "I want to undress you. I want to see all of you; see you and touch you; touch all of you, as you have me."
His smile was sheer delight. "Then you shall have your wish, my dear!" he declared.
He stood still before me, his arms hanging loosely at his sides as I began to remove his garments. Too excited to take the time and care that he had taken with me, I nonetheless stroked him and kissed him in all sorts of places, delighting in his sighs of pleasure at my every touch. His small brown nipples drew me like magnets and I feasted on them, even worried them lightly with my teeth while he, with closed eyes, gasped and moaned and I felt his fingers wandering through my hair, holding me tenderly as I worshipped him with yearning lips and tongue.
When he finally stood naked before me I almost gasped in sheer wonder at his beauty; his skin, flushed with arousal, was smooth and hairless as any woman's; his lips, soft and swollen from our kisses, were turned up in a lovely smile and his small nipples were hard and jutting from my ministrations. I grasped his slim hips and kissed my way down his lean, flat abdomen to where his manhood stood proudly tall.
Of course, as a doctor I had many times touched other men's sexual organs to check for disease or injury, but I had never before touched a man in a sexually excited state.
I knelt before Holmes now, marvelling at his arousal and his utter helplessness in the face of it. My dear friend must have been in an agony of need, the flushed tip of his manhood was wet with his own natural fluid and as I reached out to touch it in sheer wonder, I felt it throb gently in my hand and heard him sigh my name.
"I am at your mercy, my darling! Do with me as you will!" he gasped.
I experienced then for the first time the sensation of power; the awareness of having a man as masterful, and at the same time as appealing as Sherlock Holmes at my mercy, to do with as I pleased - and it was utterly intoxicating!
As I continued to stroke him I wondered what would please him. As a man I knew what would please me, but ladies simply would never do it. As a man I knew also that equally it would please Holmes. I wondered if I dare do it. He had offered to do it for me; could I do less for him? I reasoned that he would not expect it of me, certainly not tonight anyway; perhaps another time when I was more experienced.
Another time? I realised then that I would willingly do this again for the sheer pleasure and enjoyment of the experience. I was a sensual being no less than he, and he knew it. If we could give each other pleasure - albeit a forbidden one - what harm was there in it? After all, we were both consenting adults. It was not as if Holmes had tied me up and forced me against my will.
I again ran my hand over the soft tip of his prick, now thoroughly wet, silky and slippery, and he groaned softly.
"The floor, my dear, and quickly!" he rasped, kneeling and pulling me down onto the carpet.
As I lay down on my back he lay half on top of me, his tongue licking delicately at the tip of my prick, lapping at the moisture there and swirling around before swallowing half my length, sucking on me most needfully.
Oh, but it was heaven to feel his mouth on me like that! To know that he wanted me so much! But I was neglecting him, I realised, and I wanted more. Before this night was over I wanted to know the feel of him in my mouth; to taste his hungry arousal, feel the power of his ecstasy, and know ultimately that I had caused it; indeed that I had created it. Yes, I could do that for him, I realised, and only for him. I knew now that this was what I truly wanted to experience.
"Oh, Holmes, my darling," I gasped, "turn around please! Let me taste you!"
Not for one moment did his mouth release me as his long body folded in two and he turned onto his side, wrapping his arms tight around me again and touching my testicles most eagerly.
His groin was now level with my eyes, the musky odour of his generous, aroused manhood exciting me unbearably as I took it in my hand, feeling its heat and hardness and did what I had never thought to do in my lifetime - I licked at the silken-soft tip of another man's penis, tasting the salt-musk moisture there, at the same time fondling his swollen balls and squeezing them gently.
That was the last coherent thought I had for his mouth was driving me wild and as my excitement mounted I began to swirl my tongue all around the tip. When I took him into my mouth and began to experimentally suck on him he groaned deep in his throat and I felt the vibrations of his pleasure in my prick.
Both of us were lost to the world now, totally involved in each other's ecstasy. The act of physical love with another man which had always seemed to me would be difficult, awkward, even repulsive, was so easy, so comfortable and so delightfully pleasurable with my dear Holmes that I was totally unafraid of the consequences and took him as deeply in my mouth as I could comfortably manage.
It could not last long, both of us beyond any kind of control now. I was as deep in his throat and he was in mine when the first electrical sensations shot up my spine, my whole body quivered at the point of rapturous release, and then I was pouring myself into his accepting mouth; at the same time feeling him spasm beneath me and fill my mouth with his precious issue, and as I swallowed it I was blissfully aware of him sucking and swallowing my own.
In that singular moment of unsurpassed intimacy the sense of sharing something unique and remarkable was overwhelming and I knew then that I would never forget the power, the rapture and the sheer erotic joy of it as he adored me with his mouth, sucking every last drop from me.
Gradually he softened and I gave one final gentle suck on him and cleaned the tip with my tongue before allowing him to slide gently from my mouth.
Totally drained by the experience I collapsed beside him and simply lay there. Eventually I turned around and crawled back up his body to rest my head on his shoulder. I kissed the soft skin of his neck as his arms and legs encircled me.
"John, my dear friend, what have we done?" he murmured anxiously.
"Shh. We did as we both desired," I assured him, "and I do not regret anything! It was sheer heaven!"
I had spoken without thinking, but it was that, I realised. I had done the unthinkable; I had sucked another man's prick and thoroughly enjoyed it. I had let him - nay encouraged him! - to come in my mouth and, far from feeling shame, I had positively revelled in it! Had utterly gloried in it and, yes, I would do it again, I realised.
He chuckled. "Oh, yes! Yes, it was that! You are wise, my John, especially in ways of the heart; I have always known that about you. Very well then, we shall not regret, but I suppose we should go to bed," he added.
"Yes. We will certainly become chilled if we stay here."
I looked up at him and marvelled at the tenderness of his expression. I knew then that it was something else that I would always remember about this infinitely remarkable night. I also knew that I could not bear for us to part company now after having shared such complete intimacy.
"Holmes, my dear friend, would you do me the honour of sharing my bed tonight?"
His smiled at me. "My dearest John, I thought you would never ask, and it is I who am honoured."
I smiled back at him and could not resist leaning close and kissing him; a kiss that was returned in as tender a manner as I had ever known and yet was altogether more intimate as tongues caressed and explored deeply, tasting of each other's essence and silently acknowledging the momentous joy each had known in the act. I knew even then that I was already addicted to his luscious lips and exquisite kisses.
When we finally parted it was to share knowing smiles.
I stroked his face, letting my fingers wander where they would. "Holmes, my dear, dear friend."
"Dearest John," he murmured, his fingers running lightly through my hair. "So delightful."
"You knew you would succeed in seducing me, didn't you?" I gazed into his eyes.
"Ah, no, but I planned my strategy well and the experiment was a rousing success, would you not agree?"
I looked at him in dismay, wondering if that was all I was to him - an experiment, a demonstration of his expertise in seduction.
As always, he read my thoughts. "Oh, no, no, no, my dear fellow! How cold-hearted you must think me! You must never think that, my dear John, never! You mean..." he swallowed hard, "... a great deal to me and I have wanted you for a very long time but did not... could not... find a way to approach you with my needs, my hopes, my desires. The subject was of such delicacy and such magnitude that it loomed large in my thoughts and I devised many scenarios with which to broach it. Last night I estimated that I might have at best a fifty-fifty chance of success. I only hoped that you could some day forgive me for daring to speak of my desires."
"Forgive me," I murmured contritely. "I did not mean to doubt you."
I cupped his face in my hands and kissed him with all the fervour of my newly-wakened heart. "Am I forgiven?" I asked, watching his eyes open dreamily, a soft smile on his much-kissed lips.
"Mm, yes. You are the sweet elixir of life to me, dear John," he murmured.
"I like it when you call me `John'," I whispered.
"Then I shall continue to call you that, my John," he murmured.
"Let us go to bed now," I declared with one last caress to his cheek before pushing myself out of his arms and attempting to rise. However, I had momentarily forgotten that extreme arousal inevitably results in a corresponding state of extreme debilitation and as I stood I felt considerably weak and took a couple of deep breaths to steady myself.
As I beheld the state of the floor I was dismayed to see Holmes's clothing scattered all around us and I shook my head in disbelief. Obviously I had been far too excited earlier to notice where I had dropped his garments as I undressed him. Truly I had been carried away on the wings of desire! I thought ruefully.
I held out my hands to him and hauled him to his feet before helping him tp pick up his clothing. He disappeared into his bedroom, though I noticed that he, too, seemed slightly unsteady on his feet.
I gathered up all of my own garments and headed to the sitting room door, opening it cautiously. I need not have worried; our good landlady had obviously gone to bed and the house was in darkness. Nonetheless I found myself tiptoeing upstairs to my cold bedroom.
After cleansing myself I donned a clean night-shirt and got into bed to await him, my mind filled with thoughts of the events of the last hour. My body tingled at the memory of his hands and mouth and I could not remember a more seductive, more pleasurable experience in my life. I, who had known many women and had recoiled at the thought of sex with a man, had learnt that the reality was far different and far more enjoyable that I could ever have dreamed. I also realised that I would never have indulged in such an act with a stranger but, because it was Holmes and I trusted and cared for him, and he for me, I had been willing to learn this new way of loving. Yes, I loved him dearly and I knew without doubt that my love was more-than-returned. On account of love we had shared an act of such exceptional physical intimacy that, far from regretting it, I decided it was a subject worthy of thorough research and study.
There was a soft tap on my door and Holmes entered my room carrying a candle which he deposited on the bedside table before turning to lock the door behind him. I smiled at him and turned down the bed in welcome as he slipped off his dressing gown and slid in beside me.
The feel of him lying next to me, separated only by our night-shirts, was too tantalising to resist, so I embraced him and, with arms and legs entwined, we curled up close in my small bed, the sound of his deep sigh of contentment music to my ears. All was silence and warmth and comfort.
After a while he pulled back a little to look into my eyes and there was a poignant look about him that told me his thoughts were troubled.
"What is it, my dear?"
He reached out to touch my face. "Oh, my friend, you were innocent and I fear that I have corrupted you most dreadfully."
"My friend, we said that we would not regret," I admonished gently.
"I know but..."
I dared to place a finger over his lips to quiet him. "Holmes, listen to me. In the first place I am hardly `innocent'. I am a doctor and I do know of such practices, even if I had not experienced them myself and, as you know, I am no monk. I have enjoyed the company of the fair sex - yes, I admit it freely and unashamedly - but never, never have I experienced such sensual delights as I have with you tonight. Just before you entered the room I was lying here thinking that I had learnt so much tonight. I never knew... never imagined that making love with a man could be so powerful, so enjoyable. Somehow I had always thought it would be crude, animalistic and over quickly, but it was not like that at all. It was wonderful! Beautiful even! Oh, Holmes, you have taught me that and it is a lesson I shall never forget as long as I live!"
He hugged me and kissed my cheek. "You enjoyed my little wager, did you not, my dear?"
"Oh, yes and we both won!" I declared fervently, kissing him back. "You were right, it was worth the risk. In fact it was so marvellous that I would be willing to have another `wager' with you at any time, though no doubt the mere thought of such an act would disgust most decent folk!"
"Hah! So-called `decent folk' don't know what they are missing!" he declared. "But you do not feel disgust, do you, my dear?"
"No," I whispered wonderingly, gazing fondly at him. "Not at all. It was wonderful! Glorious! Oh, it was heavenly, and I fear that I shall want it again, and soon! Is that too terribly depraved of me?"
He smiled. "That would largely depend on how you define depravity. Personally I would hardly consider such an occurrence to be depraved, but rather to be anticipated surely."
I smiled and shook my head in exasperation. "Oh, Holmes, I am not sure what to think any more!"
"Then do as your heart desires, darling John. Don't think - act!"
I did!
* * * *** * * *
