Experiments of the Rather Personal Kind

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Sherlock has never been what he, or anyone else, would consider a sexual being. His life had been more or less devoid of any feelings of that variety, and yet somehow John Watson has managed to stir hot lust up inside of him.

Now, Sherlock finds himself fantasising about his flatmate, imagining that slightly soft form divested of any clothing. Imagining all kinds of delicious things. And, as he ruminates, Sherlock's hands begin earnestly exploring what lurks beneath his silky boxers for the first time.

Submitted: August 19, 2017

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Submitted: August 19, 2017



Sherlock had long presumed himself to be more or less asexual in nature, though there had been a few rare instances of attraction to both male and female individuals in his past.

Still, that attraction hadn't been enough to stimulate him physically.

While most males his age had, at the very least, lost their virginity, Sherlock hadn't even masturbated to completion.

He'd given it the odd try back in his adolescence, though he'd never achieved an orgasm from the experiences. Sherlock had even become rather bored partway through and had given the notion up.

The satisfaction of solving a worthy maths problem, completing a fascinating experiment, or solving a mystery, these things gave him exhilaration the way that sex seemed to exhilarate most men.

Sherlock hadn't even given the topic thought in years until he'd met John, who had stirred something deep down inside him that he hadn't been aware of.

Over time, John had unknowingly made things quite difficult for Sherlock.

He'd begun getting hard around the handsome ex-army doctor, and it hadn't always been easy to hide.


With John out for the night with friends and nothing to do, Sherlock did something unusual and retired to bed early.

After laying awake for what felt like much longer than a mere hour, Sherlock found himself fantasising about John in the shower, and he did his best to shut all other thoughts out and focused only on the imagined sight of John's wet, naked body...

He could picture the curly, greying chest hair smattering John's subtly muscled chest, his slightly soft tummy, and the thick manhood that lay beneath.

Sherlock placed a hand flat on his abdomen, letting it slowly slip down to his firm cock.

He hadn't touched himself like this for years, and it was different somehow.

This time, the feel of his hand wrapping around his rigid appendage was like slight electrical sparks instead of being wholly unremarkable.

Sherlock gripped himself tighter, his other hand massaging his bollocks.

He found himself letting out a slight groan it felt so good.

He imagined John fondling himself in that steamy shower, continuing to explore his body and stoking the heat that was beginning to burn.

Sherlock bit his lip as sensations went through him like a sudden spark after he'd squeezed his erection with nearly too much force, unable to keep from making a needy sound.

This felt amazing, but Sherlock was chasing after the release he'd been so curious about for nearly two decades.

He felt a desperation for more, and Sherlock hastened his pace.

Sherlock stopped, the sensitive skin beginning to hurt from the friction.

Impatiently, Sherlock hurried into the kitchen and grabbed some butter from the bowl in the cupboard and returned to his room.


Back on his bed and flat on his back, Sherlock applied the butter.

Despite being room temperature, it had felt chilly. Still, it wasn't altogether unpleasant.

Sherlock slowly slid his closed hand around his width again, the slipperiness odd but satisfying.

He closed his eyes, wondering how it would feel to be inside of John.

Would it feel tighter? Hotter?

Sherlock could barely think as his body spasmed, flooding with a whirlwind of pure pleasure.

Sweat dripped down his skin, throaty moans escaped him, as he tightly grasped the bed sheet with his free hand.

This was better than most anything he'd physically felt in his entire life, and Sherlock had relished the feeling of his orgasm taking hold so completely that he wasn't capable of thinking at all.

His mind had gone blissfully blank as his body shuddered in delight.

Once his orgasm had begun to ebb, Sherlock's body went completely limp in total relaxation, his breath returning to its usual rhythm.

Almost immediately, exhaustion overtook him and he'd found himself drifting into peaceful slumber filled with dreams of John.

© Copyright 2018 Colún Dubh. All rights reserved.

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