Jesus Christ.. I'm sweating all over. This can not be attractive. Why the hell is he still kissing me when I'm sweating like a pig? Seriously, he's crazy if he's finding me attractive right now. I'm pretty sure my t-shirt is clinging to my torso.

Sherlock's hands push the garment up and over my head before I can even think enough to decide if it was clinging to me or not. It's like he's on a personal mission to stop me from thinking (not that I think all that much anyway).

The moment we entered his flat again, we attacked each other. On the walk back from the movie (which was awesome), Sherlock couldn't take his hands off me. The same could be said for me, I guess. He kissed me many times. He kissed almost everywhere he could. Neck. Face. Shoulder. Jaw. Lips. I made sure to return the favour, loving getting the attention and giving him the attention.

Now, we're stumbling across his living room, blindly heading somewhere. The sofa? Bedroom? Wall? I don't know, I don't care.

"J-James..." Sherlock pants my name, barely removing his lips from mine.

I can't see him. My eyes closed the moment he started kissing me. God. He can't feel this good. It's impossible for anything to feel this amazing.

I tug on his shirt, sending the top button flying off. For a moment, I expect him to stop us because I vaguely remember him scalding someone in class that almost spilled their water on his shirt. He obviously loves his shirts. He doesn't stop us, though, and continues to undress me. As I undo his shirts buttons (killing a few more), Sherlock unbuttons my jeans.

Once his shirt is off and on the ground with my own top, our shoes get kicked off. I'm then being pressed into the wall and kissed without restraint. Distracted from the removal of our clothes, my fingers slide into his hair, gripping tightly and I kiss him back just as eagerly.

I'm not too keen on being the one that pressed into the wall and so when the chance presents itself, I spin us around and roughly shove him into the wall. My knee slides between his legs, making sure that he's staying against the wall. Sherlock pants and looks at me with dark, hungry eyes.

Smirking, I unbutton his trousers and kiss him again, slow but forceful, in full control now. Sherlock happily surrenders to me, sending shivers down my spine. Jesus. There are no words for how pleased I am he wants things to pan out this way too.

"Get them off." I growl, tugging on his waistband, before stepping back and getting out of my own trousers, watching as Sherlock reveals more of himself to me.

When we're both in just boxers, I press close to him again and shove a knee between his legs for the second time tonight, pinning him there. I don't kiss him again, just meet his eyes and stare for a while.

He's gorgeous. Breathtaking. I literally am finding it hard to breathe when I meet his eyes. They're so... captivating. They... take my breath away. There's not a better way to describe it. Well, there probably is but my vocabulary is as wide as my love for the French language.

Sherlock tilts his head to the side, offering his neck to me. It sends an almost pain burst of arousal through me each time Sherlock offers himself to me or makes it clears he's going to submit to me.

He's my teacher. Sherlock, in a classroom, is the one in control. In movies and books if anyone's taking control, it's usually the teacher. That doesn't matter now. While being teacher and student makes this a lot sexier Sherlock isn't seeing himself as my teacher right now.

Sherlock is my partner right now. My boyfriend. My plaything. Whatever way he wants to put it, I don't care. The point is he's submitting to me and letting me control the situation despite all the things that suggest he should be in control right now - he's older, more experienced and, obviously, there's the teacher thing.

Moaning softly, I lean forward and start to suck and bite at his neck. I'm sure that most people lean towards sucking but I can't help sinking my teeth into his neck. The marks I leave are going to be gorgeous, that's for sure.

Sherlock tries to rock against him and even though I can feel against my thigh that he is ridiculously turned on right now, I don't budge. I want to tease him. Drive him insane from wanting just a touch more.

Smirking, I bite now again harder than before. I don't make him bleed. I don't know where he stands on that and I don't want to hurt him right now. Maybe another time. Maybe.

Sherlock sounds like a porn star with all the sounds he's making. Not even like a good porn star, he sounds like one of the shitty ones that moan at everything. It's still music to my ears.

Gradually - very, very gradually - I start to rock myself against Sherlock. He squeaks and his breathing catches. I grip his arms tight, breathing heavier myself.

It feels amazing. I've never rubbed myself against another person before but Christ I see what the big deal about sex is now. We're only in our underwear and we've barely begun. I may not survive this night but what a way to go it will be.

"Sherlock..." My voice comes out more whiny than I planned. "Let's get to the bedroom. Now."

Sherlock nods eagerly, humming and whimpering when I move away from him so we can head to the bedroom.

Smirking, I pull Sherlock close for a brief kiss before tugging him by the hand towards his bedroom.

It's only once we're in the bedroom I remember that I'm a tad out of depth here. I've never done this before. I've looked it up, of course, and I know how everything works but that's just research. It doesn't mean I'm going to do it correctly first time. What if I hurt Sherlock? And not in the way I was talking about hurting him a while ago. I could cause him real harm if I don't do this right.

Sherlock takes a few steps towards the bed before he turns back and raises an eyebrow. His expression smoothes out in understanding a moment later. Are my worries painted that clearly on my face?

The gorgeous creature in front of me steps close and presses his lips gently against mine, barely moving away when he speaks. "I'll guide you through anything you need me to. I'll show you the best way to prep me. There's not a lot to worry over. Instinct takes over."

"That isn't as reassuring as you'd think..." I mumble.

Sherlock smiles a little and kisses me again before he moves to the bed and lays down. I stay where I am, watching. Sherlock winks at me before he fishes a bottle of lube out from somewhere under his pillows.

Sherlock raises his hips and stuffs a pillow under before he removes his underwear and spreads his legs.

I drink in the sight of him. His skin is so pale and soft. His curls are just a bit messier than usual. He's lightly flushed and his cock bobs proudly against his stomach. If I didn't know better, I would think he's glowing. He looks so gorgeous.

I can see where I'm going to push into him. It's going to take a lot to spread him enough.

"I clean myself this morning using an enema." Sherlock murmurs, squirting some lube on to his fingers.

"Hopeful?" I tease.

Sherlock hums and nods, lowering his hand. My eyes follow.

I've seen porn and read about how to prepare for anal but neither of them tell you about the small things that seem so important right this moment.

They don't mention the down right sexy way Sherlock takes a deep breath and then the way it hitches again as he pushes the tip of the first finger into himself. It doesn't mention the way Dherlocks licking his lips and sent me a glance before he focuses on work his finger in. It doesn't talk about the way Sherlock's hole is quivering with each touch. Nothing was said about how Sherlock's erection slowly leaks on to his stomach.

I want to touch. Him. Myself. Standing her is killing me. Sherlock hasn't got far but I'm already bored of watching.

I walk over to the edge of Sherlock's bed and push my boxers down.

"You're so hot." The words are a little mumbled as I climb on to the bed and settle between Sherlock's legs.

I watch for a moment longer before covering my own fingers in lube and slowly pulling Sherlock's hand away. He spreads himself further. Looking up, my eyes meet his and the small smile on his face takes my breath away. He needs to stop being so gorgeous. It's bad for my health!

I go slow, very slow, with the first finger. It slides in easily but I make sure to be slow and to watch Sherlock's face for signs of pain. His fingers are longer than mine but they're also thinner.

Once I've an idea of the pace to set my eyes fall to my own hand and I watch as I put my fingers into Sherlock. When I have four inside of him, he's rocking down against me and moaning like a bad porn star again.

He's been saying for a while that he's ready but in all honesty watching my fingers slowly disappear unto what was such a small hole is fascinating. One day, I'll see if Sherlock will let me play for hours just I've got my hand inside of him.

I use my free hand to stroke myself twice and my hips stutter forward. I was so focused on Sherlock that I completely neglected myself. I honestly thought I'd be a selfish lover. I'm selfish in almost everything in life but making Sherlock cry out in pleasure is too satisfying for me to be selfish right now.

"J-James, you need to fuck me. Now." Sherlock growls.

I completely agree but I just have to tease him. There'd be no fun in just agreeing with him, after all.

"So impatient, Sherlock-"

"James! Please. God, please." Sherlock snaps. Maybe it was meant to sound fierce but he just sounds like a whiny child.

Chuckling softly, I nod and carefully pull my fingers out of him. The sight of his hole, stretched and already so used makes me moan and I stroke myself again.

"Condom." I murmur.

Sherlock hands me one from under his pillow. I wonder what else he keeps under those pillows. Unless like the enema this morning Sherlock had planned for lube and condoms to be within his reach.

The condom is rolled on quickly, my patience starting to deteriorate after seeing Sherlock's gaping, and I do mean gaping, hole.

Swallowing the lump that has formed in my throat, I position myself so my arms are holding me around Sherlock but my hips are far enough back I can slide into him without an issue.

I open my mouth to speak but Sherlock interrupts before a single word comes out.

"If you ask me if I'm ready, I'll actually hit you."

I laugh again. He's cute when he's frustrated.

Well. Here goes my virginity.