Sherlock worked the man through his orgasm, licking on one end and pumping on the other. He felt John's body writhe and shake and buck under him, felt the man's cock stiffen and pulse, and felt the hot liquid spill over his hand, coating his fingers and running between them, dripping down onto table, and down tothe tiled kitchen floor.

As John started to come down, he pulled his head away first, and then gave John a couple more slow, languid strokes to milk the last of his come out before he let go. He knew how easy it was to get overstimulated, so he pulled away right as he could see the last of the lingering pleasure of the orgasm fade.

"John.." He said, his voice just as wrecked as if it had been him. It was an intense experience on his end as we, and though he hadn't come himself (though he'd been close) that didn't matter right now. All that mattered was John, bent over the kitchen table,. having made quite a mess of it.