Date: Wed, 28 Nov 2018 19:27:55 +0000 (UTC)
From: Arthur Doyle <sirarthurpornandoyle@yahoo.com>
Subject: A Study in Fornication, Chapter 9

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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