Lol, that was quick! 😛 I’ll work on one ( it’ll probably be pillow humping, shhh) when I get back on my computer, nonny!
Sadie:
12.
Diapered pillow humping (nsfw under the cut)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Be Ready.”
That was the last text John had sent right before getting off work. The last, and only text he’d sent in response to several filthy and increasingly needy texts from one particularly needy little boy.
“Be Ready.”
John checked his phone again, just as he was leaving the clinic: no answer.
Good. That meant that previously idle hands were now busy.
John took his time getting home, a faint smirk permanently plastered onto his face (and his cock straining against the fly of his trousers).
He took his time going up the stoop.
He took his time climbing the stairs (and making as much noise as possible as he did so).
He could hear the heavy panting even before he made it to their landing.
He took his time opening the door (again, making as much noise as he could with fumbling and jingling his keys on purpose).
All of that time and patience and straining and throbbing proved worth it as he opened the door…
And there was Sherlock in the middle of the sitting room floor, stripped down to nothing but the nappy John had left him in that morning…straddling John’s pillow and thrusting into it with enough force that John’s cock nearly busted though his zipper.
John was watching as Sherlock’s arse rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell in time with the grunting, when the salacious little whore looked up and noticed that he had an audience.
It didn’t stop him. If anything, he quickened his pace as he stared at John, slack-jawed and eyes glazed over, face and chest flushed with the effort.
Drool dribbled from the corner of Sherlock’s open, heaving mouth, leaving a long, thin line from his bottom lip to the puddle it left on the floor below him.
John bit his lip and reached down to squeeze his cock through his jeans.
“C-could…” John paused to lick the sweat off his upper lip; “Could you…?”
Sherlock stopped his panting and looked up into John’s eyes, his pupil’s blown wide and dazed, cheeks flushed, and waited.
John
opened his mouth again…and still faltered. He couldn’t do it. It was
too embarrassing. Which was quite a feat, considering he was on his
knees, thrusting into Sherlock’s arse while his lover was folded in half
like a lawn chair. Yet this was ‘too embarrassing’. “Sherlock, could…unnh!” He grunted loudly as Sherlock clenched around his cock.
“Get on with it, John!” he breathed, rocking his arse impatiently, urging John to move again.
John
snorted; of course His Majesty would be even more demanding now. “Yeah,
yeah, yeah,” he muttered, giving Sherlock’s hips a harsh squeeze before
slapping one soft, rounded buttock.
Sherlock arched his back and hissed, his hands twisting the sheets beneath him, and keened.
John’s lip curled into a leer; that had been a welcome reaction. He did the same to the other side and Sherlock writhed, his mouth hanging open, panting a gasping.
John
found his nerve. “You like that? You like it when Daddy spanks you?” he
said, and when Sherlock stopped to gape up at him, goggle-eyed, John
smacked him again and thrust himself deep, deeper than he had been, and
listened to Sherlock cry out loud.
He sat still for a moment,
chest heaving, and let Sherlock’s hole adjust to the stretching.
Sherlock lay still, his breath coming in short, quick little pants while
his cocked bobbed against his stomach. He murmured something in between
gasps, something that John couldn’t quite catch, and for a moment, John
was worried that he might have hurt him. He rubbed his hands along
Sherlock’s thighs, and leaned in; “What, love?”
Sherlock slowly turned his head and gazed up at John..
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