Gay Romance Holmes and Watson: A Forbidden Love Unveiled in the Shadows of Baker Street

This story is my first attempt at writing gay fiction. It is the result of a request by a female friend who asked for a Holmes and Watson sex story.

I hope you like it.

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John Watson laid the palms of his hands on either side of Sherlock’s face. Sherlock Holmes didn’t react in any way, shape or form.

“You’ve done it!” Watson exclaimed. “You solved it!”

“Of course I did,” Holmes retorted calmly. “It was elementary once I worked out how they breached the security system, got past the infrared sensors and entered a room with a retinal scanner.”

“Well, however you did it, it was wonderful.” Watson kissed Holmes forehead euphorically. Again, Holmes didn’t react; Watson had done this many times.

Today though, things would end differently Holmes guaranteed himself.

Holmes placed his hands on top of Watsons. He stared into his friends brown eyes and, hesitantly, placed a kiss on Watson’s thin, pale, pink lips.

John to his credit didn’t react the way that Sherlock expected. He didn’t pull away from the kiss, instead, he embraced it, began kissing him back.

John parted his lips slightly, allowing Sherlock to begin probing between them to find the sweet warmth of his tongue and mouth. John’s right hand went to the back of Sherlock’s head. He grasped a handful of thick, black hair, twisting it. Sherlock’s head titled slightly, so that their kisses could be that much more passionate.

Sherlock’s right hand traced a path down Watson’s arm coming to rest gently on his left shoulder. He paused slightly, and then his hand made its way down onto his chest, covering his heart.

He could feel the beat of Watson’s heart, getting slightly faster with each passing second. The heat emanating from his chest grew too; it was starting to make his palm sweaty even through Watson’s lumberjack shirt.

John opened his mouth fully and Sherlock took advantage. He thrust his tongue into the mouth that waited for his probing.

Sherlock did not disappoint, he ran his tongue around the inside of John’s mouth – running it across his teeth and gums, as if searching for something hidden deep within the recesses of the cavernous mouth he was kissing.

Watson lowered his left hand to Sherlock’s chest searching for the buttons that held his silk shirt closed. Finding the top button, he clumsily fumbled it open before moving down to the next and the next.

When finally the shirt was open, he broke away from the passionate kiss that he and his friend were sharing. He kissed Holmes’ neck, his collarbone, his defined pectoral.

Eventually Watson’s mouth came to rest over the large nipple that stood erect and proud. Sucking it into his mouth, he nibbled at it and Sherlock groaned quietly, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Oh John,” he whispered. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment.”

Watson didn’t reply. Rather than remove himself and stop toying with the nipple that was growing under his touch, he simply grunted his response. He gently licked the brown nipple and the areola that surrounded it. He felt light headed.

Sherlock placed his right hand gently on the crown of Watson’s head, pushing him back onto the nipple. The feeling there was exhilarating to him, filling him with feelings not felt for such a long time. Watson nibbled that little bit harder now.

Memories of childhood and his brother Mycroft, flooded back to him. Before their affair had become know to their parents, he and Mycroft had spent many gloriously torrid days and nights together, exploring each other’s bodies, learning the fine arts of same sex lovemaking.

Watson kissed gently across Holmes’ chest, eventually reaching the so far untouched nipple. He repeated all that he done before biting a lot harder than he had previously, and Sherlock groaned again, this time though, audibly. He liked a little pain every now and then.

Removing his hand from Watson’s head, Holmes undid the cuff buttons and removed his silk shirt, savouring its feel.

Dropping it at his feet, he sought out his waist and the belt that secured his trousers. Without even undoing the belt, he dropped his trousers and underwear as one to form a small circle of clothing around his feet.

Watson, aware of exactly what Sherlock was doing, waited until his friend’s penis sprang into view. At the exact second that Holmes had moved his hands downward to expose himself, he made his move – dropping to his knees, head held slightly away from the groin in front of him so that he might take in the view.

Holmes was huge! He was also semi-erect. Watson couldn’t even imagine what this monster of a cock would look like when it was at its hardest.

The penis on display before him was thick and long, very long. Watson estimated that at this second, it had to be 9 or 10 inches and it was growing! With every involuntary twitch, it seemed to grow, become harder and harder as Holmes’ blood filled and engorged it.

The bulbous head was a purplely red colour; thick blue veins throbbed with blood as it grew before Watson’s eye. The urethra at the tip was large and inviting, Watson poked his tongue at it, lapping up the taste of Sherlock’s cock.

As he sat hunkered down admiring the cock that was on display before him, Watson’s eyes were drawn down the shaft; past the veins and the enormous length, to the base and to the bald pubis that sat almost a foot away from his face.

Nervously, he licked his lips, which were wide open to receive this monstrous organ. Sherlock, however, had other ideas. He bodily lifted Watson to his feet and began undressing him, slowly, with purpose.

Watson’s shirt was removed; he stepped out of his shoes automatically, as if he were undressing for bed. Next off came his trousers and socks, Holmes took his time removing each item.

He lingered at times, feeling the strong muscles under the skin; just beneath his fingertips. Every now and then he would place a light, delicate kiss and without a word move onto the next piece of clothing.

Eventually Watson was stood only in his boxer shorts. The section of cloth that covered his erect, throbbing cock bulged. Holmes stared at it, a look of anticipation on his face.

Reaching forward slowly, Holmes ran two fingers slowly around the silhouetted shape, feeling the member beneath react to his touch.

All the while, Watson had his eyes closed tightly. He moaned almost silently. He wasn’t in his comfort zone sexually, but he had to admit that so far, it felt good, very good. He was determined to experience Holmes to the fullest – to experience all that Holmes had to offer.

Holmes slowly, but carefully gripped the elasticated band that topped the shorts his soon to be lover wore. Slowly and deliberately, he tugged the material downward to at last, set free Watson’s cock.

A base of slightly greying light brown hair covered

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THE END