Chapter IX: A continuation of the reminiscences of John Watson, M.D.
Sherlock Holmes stood upon a dais between Mr. Jefferson Hope and Mr. Joseph Strangerson in front of a packed crowd at the club Rache. All three men wore suits of the finest cut and make, and each was brimming with happiness. Hope and Strangerson clasped hands between them, their eyes wet with tears, matching ruby rings slipped upon their fingers, as Holmes closed his Bible.
"Should anyone here object to this union..." Holmes said with a mischievous smile plastered to his face. "Then please do shut up about it for nobody cares."
The men of the establishment duly laughed, a hearty communal sound that cut through the sentimentality we all were feeling at watching the proceedings before us. Hope and Strangerson's love had filled us each with pride and delight, and seeing the two of them partake in the trappings of matrimony made my heart swell. It didn't matter that their ceremony was not legally binding. It didn't matter that I could never have imagined the sight of a man marrying another man a few short months ago. The only thing that was important was their proclamation of everlasting love to one another here before this exalted community.
The vows had been said, the rings exchanged. Holmes stated that, while he was certainly no man of the cloth, he had been inside of one not too long ago, and therefore wondered if some of that man's priestly powers had been transferred to him.
"In any case, I declare you married," he said, beaming. "You may now kiss one another."
And so they did, to much excited whooping and hollering from the crowd.
Later, I stepped away from the small dancing floor, my muscles sore from hours of merrymaking, my brain lubed up with great amounts of beer. I had been cavorting with the rest of the men as a banjo and squeezebox played entertaining tunes. Many in the crowd were sweaty and beginning to disrobe. Needing a moment to myself, I took a seat at the sidelines.
Sherlock Holmes came over, his tie already loosened, his jacket gone, and placed his hand on my knee as he sat down beside me. "Are you having fun, my friend?" he asked.
I told him I was having a wonderful time and was quite glad that he was able to arrange these nuptial proceedings. "But could we please go over the particulars of the case? I don't think I quite understood how you managed to solve it."
His eye twinkled and for a moment it seemed he might hold back. But instead he leaned forward and suggested I resolve the details myself. When I told him there was no way for me to do such a thing, he simply smiled and asked me to state the final facts as I knew them.
"There was the ring," I said. "Which was purported to be stolen, though you quickly deduced that this was merely a cover story. Yet Strangerson, who was the secretary of Enoch Dreber, had the ring with him in the end." A bolt flashed in my mind and I realized there was an easy conclusion to make from this information. "Which means that Strangerson must have had the ring with him the whole time, even before the alleged robbery."
The light of Holmes' grin shone with an approving gleam. "I told you that my tricks were not so hard as they initially seem. A short time with me and you are already becoming quite the detective yourself."
Yet there was still a great deal I was missing and so Holmes gave in to my entreaties and explained the gaps in my knowledge. Strangerson, it seems, held his secretarial position with Mr. Drebber because the elder man was supposed to be a great expert in the reeducation of wayward youths. Specifically, Drebber specialized in taking boys with errant desires and leading them toward the path of righteousness. That he himself was as crooked as any of his pupils was hardly an unexpected turn of events, and many boys suffered from his mixed messaging and guilt.
Strangerson had been with him the longest, the two eventually finding something like romance between them, in spite of Drebber's perpetual shame and his long-suffering wife. Drebber even slipped his secretary a ruby ring he'd once bought as a gift for his wife, conferring it to Strangerson as a token of his companionship. Yet in his heart, Strangerson knew that Drebber was incapable of loving him, and that their relationship was wrong. Not only because Drebber was married, but because he was constantly plotting with the Mormon elders to keep him far away from the convert who had, in their eyes, soiled him. Yet Strangerson never lost hope that he might see the beloved from his youth one day again.
And so it happened that Drebber took Strangerson on a foray to the club Rache. It was meant to be simply something to spice up their sex life, which had of late grown stale, yet it ended up with a complete disillusion of their relationship. For at the club, Strangerson came upon an American prostitute with steely eyes and a drooping moustache and he instantly knew that he had found Hope again. He told Drebber that he was leaving, though kept the name of his true love secret so that the Mormons would have a hard time finding them again. As a final retribution for keeping them apart for so long, the two men broke into Drebber's home while he was visiting friends with his wife and fucked on his bed. Drebber could neither admit that he knew this, nor that he had given his wife's ring away to a miscreant, and so was forced to lie to the police.
"And this marriage ceremony," I asked. "How did you come to know of it?"
"That was sheer luck, my friend. By investigating the jewelers of the area, I hoped to figure out some way to help Misters Hope and Strangerson, who I understood were fleeing back to New York. But instead I ran into the two of them while they were looking to get a copy made of the ruby ring. I instantly recognized who they were and what they were up to and offered my services as an officiant at their wedding."
"How magnificent!" I exclaimed.
"I had been thinking that I would help them escape and begin their new life together, and this seemed like an even better use of my connections and my abilities."
The boisterous crowd continued dancing in the dim light of the club. From the corner of my eyes, I could see that several of the men--most of them quite drunk--had begun to remove their shirts and were currently slipping and sliding their half-nude bodies against one another as the music swelled. Even during the wedding ceremony, there had been a number of ribald jokes, a great deal of backs being slapped, several crowd-members caressing their inflating implements beneath their elegant clothes. It was understood by all that Hope and Strangerson's vows had not included exclusivity and many were awaiting the moment when the new grooms decided to transform their after-party into a bacchanalia.
As for me, my vision was filled with Holmes and his kind expression. He seemed to be regarding me in a way he never had before.
"It is wonderful," I told him. "Your merits should be publically recognized. You should publish an account of the case. If you won't, then I will for you."
He smiled. "I suppose there are a few particulars you might have to leave out of this Study in Fornication, else the masses would be horrorstruck."
I shrugged. "Populus me sibilat, at mihi plaudo ipse domi."
"The public hisses at me, but I applaud myself in my own house," he translated.
The two of us sat across from one another, neither apparently able to come up with something further to say. Holmes bit his lip and gazed into my eyes.
"You know, John," he said. "There is something I've been meaning to tell you."
But before he could utter whatever was on his lips, a quite-sloshed Strangerson came over and nearly fell upon Holmes' shoulder. He said that he wanted to thank the detective for all of his help and began pulling him toward a small crowd of men that included his new husband. He shouted something to Hope that I didn't quite catch, but I was pretty sure it included the words `enormous cock.'
Holmes looked back at me with an apologetic countenance but I waved him away and smiled. Let him go have his fun. We could talk again later and, at the moment, it seemed that the party was about to take a rather delightful turn.
From afar, I watched as Hope, Strangerson, Holmes, and a small crowd of men laughed and touched one another. The particulars of their words were lost in the hullabaloo but it was clear that their conversation had turned to carnal matters. Many in the circle had thrown their arms around their companions' shoulders. A few kept reaching for their crotches again and again. Finally, I saw Hope ask something of Holmes, to which my friend nodded. His belt was then unbuckled, his pants and underwear dropped to the floor, and the soft version of his gargantuan instrument tumbled out for all to see. Strangerson, I noticed, gasped at the sight.
Holmes continued to laugh and talk as each of the men took turns caressing his slowly-engorging enormousness. He retained the casual air that had been in effect moments prior but the accipitrine gleam in his eye notified me that his mind had begun turning to other matters. The men in the circle marveled at his immense cock, which now began to rise like some magnificent contraption of considerable pleasure. Some of the dancing men had noticed the change in the sexual atmosphere and began kissing one another. Other groups in the shadows were engaged in their own foreplay, carefully stroking one another, slipping out of their clothes, beginning to nuzzle and neck. I even saw the proprietress Bess standing to one side, watching the events with rampant delight.
Strangerson came up to Holmes, kissed him, and held Holmes' heavy bullocks in his palm. He whispered something, to which Holmes nodded, and then dropped to his knees. Holmes' enormity twitched before his face, a teardrop of precum glistening from its tip, and Strangerson seemed unable to believe both its dimensions nor the fact that he was encountering such an extravagance. Entranced, he placed the cockhead between his perfect lips. Holmes and the other men encouraged his actions, their own members straining in their pants.
At this moment, I saw Holmes turn and point to me. He said something to his small audience and then crooked his finger to call me over. I had been enjoying leaning back in my seat, rubbing my prodigious tool beneath my clothing while simultaneously circling my right nipple with my thumb. But seeing how the men all beckoned me as well, I decided to take them up on their entreaties.
Strangerson was still working away on Holmes' sizeable dick as I came to stand in the circle.
"I told--ah--I told these boys," said Holmes, trying hard to maintain his composure, "That--oh yes--that you possessed quite an appealing appendage yourself. They all would like to see it."
I looked at those gathered in the eyes. "Is that so?" Furious nods of assent went around the circle. "Well they will all have to judge for themselves."
And with that, I fished out my own quite raging erection, eliciting peals of excitement from my audience. Several began to disrobe, touching themselves and their nearest companions with unrestrained lasciviousness.
"What did I tell you?" said Holmes. "His cock is nearly--ahhh--nearly as big as mine."
Hope, who was perhaps more forward than his new husband, came over and tugged at my ballsack. "It's one of the most beautiful I've ever seen." He immediately dropped down and placed my head in his mouth, eliciting a satisfied exhalation from me. His soft tongue traced over the engorged tip of my implement as he sent it to explore the interior of my sensitive foreskin. The men around us broke into a Edenic state, their clothing doffed, their bodies beginning to writhe against one another in a lurid display of virile contentment. My eyes drank in the sight of beards and body hair, stiff sausages, downy buttocks, bushy crotches, shaggy legs, and all manner of gorgeous manhood beginning to consummate their desires around me.
The newlyweds remained on the floor between Holmes and I, their oral cavities stuffed with our substantial tools. Breaking away, Hope and Strangerson turned to one another and kissed excitedly before switching positions so that each now had a new cock in their mouth. Caught up in a riot of sensations, my flatmate and I came close to one another, our arms thrown around each other's shoulders, our foreheads leaning together as we watched the stunning performance beneath us. By this point, we had all removed our clothing and I relished the view of Hope's naked hirsute body engaging in deftly swallowing Holmes' copious beauty, which was still unparalleled among all that I had seen in the world. Strangerson's soft tongue swirled around my own thick shaft, causing radiations of absolute joy to emanate from my loins.
But at a debaucherous celebration in their honor, the married couple was in high demand and so it was not too long before Strangerson and Hope were called away to engage with other gorgeous men. Holmes and I stood there a moment after they left, grinning at one another like schoolboys. A nervous tickle spread through my belly as he approached within inches of my face.
"Look at you, John," he said. "You are a marvelous creation. I apologize that we were interrupted earlier."
Not quite understanding where this was going, I told my friend that it was no matter. "Thank you for kicking off these excellent festivities."
His head turned to watch the decadence all around us--the swallowed cocks, the fingered arseholes--but then came back to look me squarely in the eyes. "I simply wished to express how much I have enjoyed meeting you. You are quite unlike anyone I have encountered. I hope that we will have a long and lasting friendship, you and I."
And with that, he leaned in and planted his tender lips upon mine. Caught unawares, I melted into his embrace. Our intimate connection caused a swelling in my breast and I knew then and there that I was in love with Sherlock Holmes. Because of the earlier actions of our new companions, we were both in quite a randy state and so my hand slipped around the girth of his cock just as his hand did the same to my member. I tugged at his preposterous prominence, feeling its incredible size and weight for the first time. His own exploration of my implement sent inundations of bliss throughout my body.
The two of us broke away, the enchanting spell between us reaching its natural endpoint. We smiled at one another, and it seemed that each of us was awaiting the other's reaction before we could proceed. Holmes crooked his head to one side and then swung a muscly arm around my back, pointing me out towards the saturnalian sights around us.
"Come now, chum. A veritable wonderland awaits us here. Let's have ourselves a time."
And I agreed. Whatever my feelings for Holmes, I wanted more than anything to enjoy myself during this masculine episode, to touch and be touched, to fuck and be fucked, and to watch others engage in sexual congress of astounding variety and exhilaration.
Spotting another circle of burly men, I walked over and got down on the floor between them. Their previous cocksucker had just departed and so I offered my services to the proffered appendages, each wet with spit and pre-ejaculatory fluid. A half dozen dicks surrounded me now and I took one in each hand and a third in my mouth, delighting as the remainder took turns slapping my face with their shafts and bullocks. My existence became nothing beyond the consuming of cock as each man took his turn between my lips.
As one rather large specimen filled my throat, I looked up to see a familiar face. The sapphire eyes and elegant moustache of Jack Saul greeted me with a wink as he bucked his oversized instrument against my lips. A moment later, I was drowning on the dick of Jefferson Hope, who was kissing Jack Saul with abandon. The next man in line, I didn't recognize, though his instrument tasted so heavenly that I impelled him to finish inside my mouth, tasting the delectable volume of cum he deposited within. This stranger, who was handsome beyond compare, then turned his arse towards me and requested that I play with his pucker, an appeal I could not readily refuse.
My tongue dove upon the tight aperture volunteered to me, savoring its contractions and the excited yelps I elicited from its owner. His buttocks were exceedingly hairy and I delighted in running my fingers up and down their forested curvature. Standing up, I tapped my hardness against this pliable rear entry. Encouraging calls came from both the men around us as well as my new partner, who pressed back his curly-haired head to give me a kiss. As my rod slipped into the first part of his slick slot, he gasped at my great size but grunted affirmatively to let me know the incursion had been appreciated. Our friends around us helped out, passing me a bottle of lubricant and even rubbing it over my fat tool when I pulled out for a moment to allow my companion to relax.
The scent of male sweat filled my nostrils as my endowment returned to the snug and sensuous compartment from which it had been removed. Rugged hands ran over my brawny chest as I slid forward and several companions leaned in to kiss me. I felt a feathery touch on the curve of my buttocks, its gentle pressure impelling me farther into the incredible chute of the brute below me. He howled with delight when I reached my maximum depth, stopping only when a precum-dripping dick was placed into his mouth. Both my instrument and my nipples had never felt so hard before, my body stoked to a place of inconceivable passion.
At this moment, I sensed a wet tongue on my exposed arsehole. Looking back, I saw the cinnamon-skinned Moslem youth who had shared his huqqa with me yesterday. His long-lashed eyes and grizzled beard peeked up from between my cheeks and I winked at his instinctive consummation of my innermost desires. He continued his torrid exploration of my backdoor as I began to slip in and out of the astonishing aperture beneath me. To fuck while being analingually stimulated in such a manner was a nearly-overwhelming feeling and it took most of my willpower not to ejaculate on the spot.
I was glad to delay the orgasm for now the Moor stood up behind me, tapping his lurid purple-headed member against my pucker. In a fugue state, I nodded my head and felt his thick serpentine gift slip past my sphincter. He pushed it to full hilt with hardly any resistance, my antechamber stretching with ease to accommodate the enchanting beast of his implement. While issuing cries of ecstasy, I stood impaled between two exquisite men, one whose obliging arsehole was housing my immense bequest while the other was broadening my tight outlet with his own gargantuan manhood.
The Moslem came forward to hug me from behind and pinch both of my incredibly-aroused nipples, diving his contrivance in and out of my slit as he did so. The oscillations were transferred to the long-haired man below me, who wriggled and whimpered with joy, his throat simultaneously stuffed by a rather large instrument. The scenery and sensations were all too much for me and so I achieved my first orgasm of the night, expelling a donation into my penetrated partner just as the Moor shuddered behind me. I felt a delightful rush into my own chute, leaning back my face to kiss the beauty now filling me with his cream. Almost as soon as I pulled out of the hairy-arsed man beneath me, another enormous cock squeezed its way between those extraordinary and voracious cheeks.
Taking a refractory break on a couch, I watched the couplings continue. A pair was fucking in the missionary position on the seat beside me and, as I recuperated, I took the opportunity to kiss them both, slapping the penetrator on his chiseled rump as he slapped his bullocks against his companion's buttocks. A bit farther afield, I saw a man being held up by a group, who passed him around so that each could cherish the pucker he brandished high in the air. More acrobatic maneuvers seemed to be occurring in the distant darkness, from which I could only hear the sounds of gratified orifices being stimulated by sodden tools. When I looked back at the partners next to me, they had been joined by a third. The eager penetrated man must have had a particularly cooperative aperture because I watched in fascination and ardor as the new man plunged his good-sized implement into the enthusiastic hole while the previous partner remained simultaneously lodged within.
All of this put me back in willing condition rather quickly, and soon I was up and about in the club again. I almost instantly spotted my next amusement--a row of men bent over a comfortable settee, each proudly displaying their eager outlets for anyone to take their satisfaction with. A few muscular trailblazers were currently pumping away at an arse or two but the majority of the buttocks seemed sadly unoccupied. Deciding to rectify this misfortune, I stroked my implement back to full hardness and set myself at the end of the line. I wanted my dick to savor each of these mouthwatering offerings and, after covering it with some proffered lubricant, sank my colossus into the first compartment.
Its owner gave a gratified grunt as I began to buck and grind. The pucker was a veritable utopia, both snug and pliable, the ideal level of slickness for me to partake in its pleasures. Looking down the row, I marveled at the selection before me, each arse with its own distinct splendor. Some were covered in wiry hairs, others smooth and soft. They ranged in curvature and solidity and I relished in pinching and slapping each one as I traveled the queue, sticking fingers into those nearby, watching as their fine-looking proprietors looked back at me and smiled. I became lost in the hedonistic action of ploughing each rear end, my mind swirling with intoxicating emotion, enjoying the freedom of this emancipatory revelry.
The party lasted for hours and I came several times that night, not all of which I need to relate. During the final occurrence, I had once again found myself pressed between two men. The one below me was on his back, his bronzed skin suggesting he was an Italian, or perhaps Greek, a profuse carpet of hair covering his chest, which I delighted in tugging as I pressed my cock into his accommodating receptacle. The man penetrating me was a gigantic Viking, with a bright red beard and long locks of hair that I ran my other hand through as he repeatedly incurred his way into my tender pucker. The rhapsodic pleasure bathing me from all sides could not have been more agreeable, and I was in rapturous paradise, consumed by carnal matters.
It was then that I noticed Holmes, quite nearby, in much the same position as me. The man below him was that lowlife John Rance, though this time I saw his features in a more flattering light. Behind Holmes was Jack Saul, his massive instrument sliding to and fro inside Holmes' Hellenic buttocks. Catching my eye, Holmes gave me an enthusiastic wink, and our excited expressions spoke volumes about all that we had encountered that night. Holmes began to cultivate a faster pace with his magnificent endowment, pushing back and forth between Rance and Saul in a manner that suggested a playful air but which was at the same time quite arousing.
Seeing these three, while also surrounded by two more unbelievable creations, penetrating and being penetrated, it was all too much for me. I began to come, my fourth or fifth attainment that evening, the orgasm both understated and yet euphoric. I believe I achieved what the Eastern mystics call nirvana, that moment when one is caught up in the awe-inspiring elation of being. My backdoor partner, perhaps feeling my twitches, achieved his own critical period then, and I felt a warm flood of semen rush out to intermingle with all the others inside my cavity. Our third must have also been quite close, for his dick now issued forth a parabolic fountain of cum that shot up and landed in a glob on his furry chest.
Stimulated by these sights, the trio beside us now also found their bliss. First Rance, who shot out sticky ejaculate that coated himself and his penetrators. Then Saul, whose eyes rolled to the back of his head and he pressed his dick deep inside his companion. And finally Holmes gave forth a celestial cry, his powerful physique shuddering as he drained the contents of his mammoth bullocks into the pliant chute in which his exceptional member was encased. He even pulled out his fantastic contrivance--so improbable in its size and capacity for generating pleasure--and fired a volley of sultry gobbets in every direction about him.
That six men could each achieve their completion nearly-simultaneously beside one another may seem unbelievable, especially to some readers. But such was life for me with Sherlock Holmes.
THE END
Thanks so much to anyone who actually read this all the way through. It was a labor of love on my part and I hope at least a few other people get some enjoyment from it. As always, comments welcome at sirarthurpornandoyle@yahoo.com
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