Chapter 1: Revelation
Greg was nervous. He stood at the threshold of the big house, putting off the moment when he would enter. He knew John and Mycroft were home. The doctor had promised they would be there to offer their support for when he talked to Sherlock.
But all he had told them was that he had accepted an acting chief inspector role. He hadn’t told them it was an acting chief inspector role in uniform. A unifor which he was now stood in.
Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped inside. As he took off his coat, the moderate chatter in the room died off abruptly.
John and Mycroft gaped at him, causing Sherlock to turn around. To all of their surprise, Sherlock burst out laughing. He was laughing so hard, he was doubled over. “Pet, what have you done?”
That was the absolute last reaction Greg had expected. He exchanged looks with the other two men before he spoke. "I was offered a promotion and I- accepted."
Sherlock slunk across the room to his sub. “How long for?”
“Depends if I get on in the postion or not. My old job is waiting if I want.”
“What exactly do you... do now?” He asked flicking the black tie he had on.
"I oversee uniform, petty thefts, burglaries, muggings that sort of thing. No more organised crime, drugs, dead bodies or kidnappings for me." Greg smiled. "I should be able to avoid the press, vultures that they are."
“But that’s... That’s... boring! What am I going to do?”
Behind them both, John and Mycroft burst out laughing.
Greg took a deep breath. "The same thing you do now." He really hoped his Dom would respect his descision and not go completely insane at his next revelation."You'll just be doing it with Donovan. She's taking over for me."
“Sir, it’s temporary. She’s only acting DI until I do/don’t make this permenant.”
“You wear a uniform now!”
“I started off wearing one...”
Sherlock started pacing the room wildly. "You're going to hate it. You'll be bored within a week, you'll see." He muttered a few more words under his breath. "And who will investigate Donovan's untimely demise, I wonder? Have you considered that?"
Greg snorted. “Sherlock, sir, this isn’t permanent. I might not like it. I might hate it and miss the out and about.”
The detective threw himself down on the sofa in a great sulk. After a moment he curled up on it with his back to the room. "Fine. Go away. I don't want to play with you right now."
Greg rolled his eyes. “You are such a fucking brat.”
“Excuse me?” Sherlock rolled over and sat up on the edge of the sofa, his face was thunderous.
“Your submissive has just got a promotion and you’re sulking like a fucking 5 year old," Greg complained.
"You can't talk to me that way!"
"I can, I did and I will if your attitude doesn’t improve. You don't want to play. Fine. In that case don't treat me like your sub."
Mycroft wanted to intervene, but he darent, not in this situation. He left it to John.
The doctor stepped up between them, “Boys, don’t be like this.”
Greg took a deep breath to calm himself. This was why he had wanted John here, to help him keep his head and hopefully reign Sherlock in. He made himself visibly relax. "You're right. Thanks, John."
“No, he’s not!” Sherlock snapped, springing to his feet. “You are my submissive, you’ll bloody well treat me with some respect.”
"Just as you must treat me like you care," Greg said wearily. He addressed the other two men. "I'm going to go change. Would either of you like a beer when I come back? I certainly need one."
Sherlock spluttered, incoherent.
"Mate, don’t push it," John warned him. "He might just safe word on you if you do. This is important to him."
Greg had disappeared by the time Sherlock had thought to argue again. “But he-”
“Has had a great success at work. Celebrate it. Don’t be a shit.”
"He's correct, brother mine." When Mycroft spoke, it was the big brother speaking, not the sub. "Your partner has been recognised for his many skills. He's been in the spotlight and under tremendous pressure for quite some time. This may be just the change he needs whilst not wasting his talents as a leader."
Sherlock shook his head and kicked the coffee table over.
“Piss off, the pair of you,” he took off up the stairs at speed.
"That went well," John deadpanned.
Mycroft snorted. "Should I check on Gregory, sir?" He worried about the other sub. It had to be a tremendous blow how Sherlock had reacted, though it probably hadn’t been entirely unexpected.
"Yeah." The doctor nodded. "Good idea." He hoped Sherlock hadn’t gone after him. "Call me if you need me."
John's worries proved unfounded as Greg and Mycroft came back down the stairs together. The new chief inspector had changed into his pyjamas and a dressing gown. John joined them as they headed into the kitchen to get beer.
“Well done, mate,” he said placing the bottle in his hands. “Get drunk.”
Greg snorted. “I wanted to play to celebrate if I’m honest.”
Half an hour later, Sherlock reappeared looking rather sheepish.
“What?” Greg grumbled when he stood beside him awkwardly.
“I hate you,” Sherlock hissed at his brother.
“What did you do?” John asked of his sub.
“I phoned dad. He phoned Sherlock.”
The detective glanced at his sub, then down at the floor. "I may have overreacted. A bit." He scuffed the side of his shoe against the floor.
"A bit, yes," Greg agreed, his tone cool.
"And maybe I should have told you congratulations on your promotion and I hope it makes you happy." The detective still didn't look up from the floor. He couldn't make himself meet his boy's eyes.
“Hmm, maybe you should. Maybe you should have grabbed me and kissed me and dragged me to the playroom.”
Finally, Sherlock looked up and met Greg’s eyes. It was one of those human moments he didn't know how to navigate. Was his sub asking him to do that now or was the moment for that irretrievably lost?
John, stepped behind the detective and pushed him until he was stood directly in front of the chief inspector, almost touching. "Well, get on with it then."
Sherlock stared at his sub then looked up at his friend. “What?”
The silver haired sub grinned, then sauntered by Sherlock on the way to the playroom. The Dom followed, glad he was getting a second chance.
“Don’t be a dick!” John yelled out after him.
“He wont mess up twice,” Mycroft said, settling beside his Dom on the sofa.
John pulled his sub to him. "I hope you're right."
In the playroom, Sherlock grasped Greg by the arm and turned him towards him. "I still haven't said it."
The sub waited, his head cocked to the side.
"I don't know why it's so difficult. I tell you how amazing and gorgeous you are. I just... I'm proud of you."
Greg didn’t quite know what to say. Instead, he stripped his pyjama top up over his head.
Sherlock was on him immediately, kissing him as if his life depended on it. He was frantic and his large hands roamed over his boy's back, pulling him as close as possible.
“This is what I wanted half hour ago.”
“I know,” Sherlock whispered, pushing him backward towards the bench. When Greg sat down on it abruptly, the Dom pushed him onto his back and quickly stripped him of his pyjama bottoms and pants. "Much better."
Sherlock plucked the bottle from his pet’s hand and dumped it on the side. “You didn’t even touch it, pet.”
"I don't need it now." Greg shot him a boyish smile that made his Dom's cock twitch.
The detective came back with a pair of leather cuffs and he buckled them around his pet's wrists.
“Put them above you,” Sherlock ordered. “I’m going to take you apart.”
"Yes, sir." Without hesitation, Greg did as ordered. When his Dom attached the cuffs to a bolt on the bench, he felt that special kind of arousal he only got when he was restrained in some way. It felt absolutely delicious.
“I’d give up the job, Sherlock,” the sub said seriously, watching his Dom for a reaction.
The Dom froze, unblinking. As tempting as it was, he realised he couldn't ask Greg to do that. In response, he went down on his boy, wrapping his lips around his cock.
“Woah!” Greg bucked not predicting what the detective was about to do.
Sherlock just laughed. He wanted to show his boy just how much he appreciated his offer to give up the job. Within just a couple of minutes, he had Greg on the edge of coming.
Much to the sub’s surprise Sherlock actually let him finish in his mouth. "God, s- sir. That- Oh fucking hell, that felt good." He lay there trembling, trying to catch his breath.
“You don’t think we’re done do you?” The detective asked pointing down at his own hard cock.
"No, sir, but thank you anyway."
Sherlock unfastened his trousers and shoved them down along with his pants. He enjoyed the power dynamic in remaining somewhat clothed while his boy remained naked. He kept his shirt on and the sleeves rolled down so Greg couldn’t even see his arms.
“Roll over,” he ordered.
“I don’t care if it’s going to be uncomfortable. Roll. Over.”
Greg shivered at his Dom's commanding tone. It was almost enough to make him hard again. It would have if he was younger.
The newly promoted chief inspector took a while, but eventually managed to roll over, his wrists twisted awkwardly in the cuffs.
Sherlock had grabbed a tube of lube and drizzled some down the crack of Greg's arse before slicking himself up. He proded at his sub's unprepared hole with the head of his cock, enjoying the tease.
Then he gave up poking at his pet’s hole and walked around in front of him. He gripped his boy by his silver hair and yanked his head back.
Greg automatically opened his mouth, though he was surprised by his Dom's actions. When Sherlock shoved his cock in, the sub wanted to laugh. It was cherry flavoured lube.
The detective gasped as Greg licked and sucked him. He started moving his hips, thrusting into his pet's mouth shallowly at first, then deeper.
“Do you think I want to finish the same way as you?”
Greg just shrugged, staring up at his Dom. When Sherlock pulled out, the chief inspector felt a sense of loss. It made Sherlock laugh. “So adorable.”
"Thank you, sir," Greg said, looking up through his lashes. He felt a bit cheeky, actually. If he hadn't been cuffed to the bench, he would have lunged for his Dom.
“Your hands hurting yet?”
Greg shook his head. He’d been in far worse situations, he could grin and bear it. In fact, he was quite enjoying it. His cock was even beginning to stir again.
Taking his time, Sherlock began to strip off his clothes. He stood where Greg could see him, letting him have a good view of his fully erect cock. He knew it was fully erect, he’d just made it so.
The pair were expecting John and Mycroft to join them, but there was still no sign. They must have been giving them some special time alone. Greg appreciated that. He tugged at the cuffs trying to slip his feet free so he could lunge at the younger man.
Sherlock slapped his boy on the arse. "You're exactly where I want you. For now, pet." He ran his hand over the smooth mound of of Greg’s arse cheek, wanting to spank him, but feeling it would be inappropriate after how he had reacted to his boy’s promotion. Instead, he unfastened the buckles from the bench. "On your knees."
Greg knelt in front of his Dom, automatically putting his hands at the nape of his neck. So much for being right where Sherlock had wanted.
Sherlock began to pace around his kneeling sub. The third time he circled him, he repositioned his pet's hand to the small of his back and connected the leather cuffs together via a carabiner. Then he put his foot on it and pushed down, forcing Greg to lean back until he was bent awkwardly.
“Something to say, pet?” Sherlock asked when Greg whimpered slightly.
“No, sir.” The strain was incredible and it pushed Greg hard. He loved giving Sherlock his submission.
The Dom loved accepting it, after a moment he lifted his foot up, “Stay,” he ordered, watching his sub strain to hold it.
It was almost impossible and Greg was sure he was going to lose his balance. When he started trembling, Sherlock tipped him over with his foot. Greg sighed in relief, his cuffed wrists tucked up beneath him.
Greg hadn’t expected praise, so it felt doubly good to receive it. He was helped back onto his knees by his Dom and settled there, catching his breath.
“What about if I do it again?”
“Sir?” The inspector asked.
“What if I told you to get back in that position?”
“I would do it, sir.” Of course he would, especially after what Sherlock had finally said to him about his promotion.
Sherlock smiled as he reached out and tweaked one of his boy's nipples.
“You’re such a good, boy,” he brushed his hand through his hair.
Greg drank in the praise like it was the sweetest wine. He turned his head and kissed Sherlock’s palm. "Thank you, sir."
“That wasn’t good.”
Greg straightened up immediately and the detective snorted. Then he crouched down and began playing with his nipples.
The painful/pleasing sensation made the sub gasp. He held himself very still, trying not to pull away. Sherlock smirked then pulled a set of clamps off the bench, he had grabbed them when he had been pacing the older man.
The Dom crouched down in front of Greg and played with his left nipple until it formed a sharp peak, then he closed one of the clamps on it. He pulled on the clamp, enjoying his pet's hiss of pain. Sherlock then gave the other nipple the same treatment.
When Sherlock grasped the chain that connected the clamps and started walking backwards, he forced Greg to knee walk to keep up with him.
“I didn’t say you could move pet.”
“Wanting to argue?”
Greg sighed, trying to keep still. “No, sir.” He felt his nipples stretch and the burn multiply to the point his eyes filled with tears of pain. He was just at his limit when Sherlock stopped adding pressure. Then he let it go, watching as the inspector straightened up and bit his lip.
Chapter 2: Good
Sherlock looked around at the sound of John and Mycroft entering the room, the latter crawling on all fours. The doctor looked pleased with what he saw as did his sub.
John ordered his pet to kneel up in the middle of the room, then he walked over to select a colar to put on him. "Having fun?" he asked the detective.
“Hmm. My pet is. Aren’t you, boy?”
The inspector nodded. “Yes, sir.” He watched as John fastened the collar around Mycroft’s neck.
Sherlock noticed where his boy’s eyes had strayed and fetched a collar for his own boy.
He slipped off his pet’s usual collar and replaced it with the more constricting leather collar he had picked up.
Greg swallowed, feeling the way the collar hugged his neck. It was far wider than the one he wore on a daily basis.
Mycroft’s was much the same, but seemed to get tighter, as John leant forward and snagged the D ring hanging from the front. “Were going to play, and you are going to be a good boy, aren’t I right?”
“Yes, sir,” he responded, nodding ever so slightly.
John gave the D ring another tug, before letting it go, then he went to fetch a humbler from the nearby table.
Mycroft eyed it warily but didn’t comment, he knew doing so would get him nowhere.
With practiced expertise, the doctor soon had the humbler fitted on his pet. He snapped a leash onto the D ring, then started leading Mycroft around the playroom.
Greg made himself keep completely still, lest Sherlock do the same thing to him. He had been good, hadn’t he? He didn’t deserve the humbler.
Sherlock twiddled with his pet’s nipples, tugging on the chain again, then he went and fetched several small weights. He added the weights to the chain one at a time, carefully watching Greg’s expression.
The inspector knew what Sherlock was up to, so he kept completely still and only showed the reactions he knew his dom would approve of.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow and decided to push his pet further. He fetched a parachute and fit it over Greg’s bollocks, then he began to add weights to it. It didn’t take long for the older man to begin to grind his teeth.
“Why do you feel the need to push him until he disappoints you?” John couldn’t help but ask as he paused beside his friend.
"I'm not. I'm admiring his stamina." Sherlock crouched down and kissed Greg deeply. He pulled back and cupped his boy's face. "Don’t you think he's incredible, John?"
“Hmm,” the doctor agreed absently. “Not as good as mine though.”
Sherlock pushed his hand into Greg’s hair and tugged him about. “You’re wrong.” His boy was absolutely perfect. He lapped at the bit of his boy’s left nipple that was pinched in the clamp, enjoying the way Greg’s breath hitched. While Sherlock flicked his tongue over the bit of exposed flesh, he reached over and removed the other nipple clamp, letting the chain dangle and the weights fall to the floor.
John led Mycroft to a bench. "Lean over it," he ordered.
Fortunately for the government official, the bench was low enough he could lean over it without the humbler causing him any pain.
John rearranged his hands and pulled them down over the front of the bench. “You looking forward to this, pet?”
"Yes, sir." He really was, more than could be expressed.
"Good answer." The Dom ruffled Mycroft’s thinning hair as he closed the cuffs that were attached to the front of the bench around his pet's wrists.
The government official tried to watch as John walked around behind him, craning his neck to see.
Then he got distracted by trying to watch his brother instead. John smacked him on the back of the head. "Oi! Keep your eyes forward. If that collar's not stiff enough to keep you out of trouble, I can always put the posture collar on you."
Mycroft shook his head slightly. He hated posture collars. As if his posture was bad!
Sherlock glanced at his brother and gave an indelicate snort. He knew exactly what Mycroft was thinking. He returned his attention to Greg, taking off the remaining nipple clamp and immediately sucking the bit of abused flesh between his lips.
The inspector bucked beneath the detective’s ministrations. “Good boy,” Sherlock soothed.
"Thank you, sir," Greg said, his voice strained.
Sherlock hefted the parachute that Greg was wearing, debating taking it off. His pet really had performed admirably. He decided to leave it on for just a bit longer.
Behind them, Mycroft yelped because John had just let his palm fall unexpectedly on his arse. It stung like mad, but in a decidedly good way. He liked being spanked as long as John used his hand and not something more heavy duty which he was half expecting.
“Again, sir,” he said before he could stop himself.
The doctor laughed and gave his boy’s arse another swat, then another and another. He kept going until Mycroft started kicking his right foot against the floor.
“You want something harder, pet?”
“Wah- no sir. Of course not, sir.”
“Of course not? Then why you stamping your feet?”
“I’m sorry, sir.” Mycroft managed to make himself sound small and repentant, quite the feat for the British Government.
Sherlock had led Greg to the bench beside Mycroft and had bent him over it. Because his pet had behaved so well, he had removed most of the weights from the patachute that he wore. Only most, not all.
He groaned as he lay over the bench, doing his best to remain completely still. That became exponentially more difficult when Sherlock began to play with his hole, slathering his entrance with an ample amount of lube.
He wanted nothing more than to buck back into it but with the way his bollocks were being treated he had no chance. That was probably why.
Sherlock didn’t waste time on preparing him, trusting to the lube and Greg’s penchant for liking things rough. He inserted two fingers as far as they would go, enjoying his pet's sharp inhale of surprise.
God, but it felt good, especially the way Sherlock had crooked his fingers to brush over his prostate. The DI moaned wantonly with pleasure.
“You can do better than that pet.”
“Yes, sir, I could. But it would hurt, sir,” he whispered, clenching his fists where Sherlock had cuffed them to the bench.
"Mm." Sherlock kissed Greg’s lower back as he added a third finger to his hole and spread his fingers wide. "I think you would like that, pet."
Greg groaned again, resisting the urge to move again and concentrated on breathing even as Sherlock did his absolute best to make him move. Finally, he couldn't resist any more and he pushed back on Sherlock’s fingers. God, he wanted more. He wanted his Dom's cock inside him and he wanted it right then.
“Keep still,” Sherlock ordered. “Only naughty boys move.”
Greg grumbled something that was incoherent. It was almost impossible not to move, but he tried very hard not to, knowing that was what Sherlock wanted. He didn't realise he was biting his lip until he tasted the metallic tang of blood.
Sherlock didn’t notice until he did it again on the same spot and hissed.
“Pet?” Sherlock walked around him and realised what had happened. He brushed his fingers against Greg’s lip. "Oh, pet," he sighed as he fetched a tissue. He used it to dab at the bite mark. It wasn't as bad as it could have been. It had merely bled a lot. "I should have given you something to chew on." He got up and went to get a gag for his boy.
Greg eyed it nervously, moving back slightly when Sherlock reached forward with it, it made the younger man frown.
“What is it?”
"I don't know, sir. The idea just makes me nervous." He ran his tongue over the small wound. "It's normally fine, sir. I just-" He shrugged as best he could.
“Have you had enough pet?” Sherlock asked softly, crouching down in front of him.
“You don’t usually mind, sir.”
“We’re celebrating. This is about making you feel good.”
“Your cock in me would make me feel good, sir. More than the gag.”
Sherlock laughed. "That can certainly be arranged." He kissed Greg at his temple, then fetched more lube, slicking himself up. He lined himself up with his boy’s entrance and slid inside him in one long, slow push.
He had expected Sherlock to toy with him for hours before doing anything that remotely resembled physical contact between them.
Greg moaned with pleasure and he pushed back to meet his Dom. It felt so good being filled by Sherlock, better than any toy could feel.
On the bench beside them, John had paused to watch the pair and mycroft had fallen asleep. He almost woke his boy up so he could watch too, but decided against it.
Greg slid along the bench with each thrust forward and was pulled back again as Sherlock partially pulled out. God, but his Dom was magnificent.
It was then that detective realised John was watching and he snorted. “Oi, pet, we have a voyeur amongst us.”
Greg didn’t care. John could watch all he wanted. In fact, it actually heightened his pleasure. He was so close to coming. All it would take was a touch of his cock and it would be all over.
Of course, there was no way Sherlock going to let things finish that quickly. He slowed his pace until Greg wanted to cry with frustration.
"Sir, please," Greg begged, "please let me come."
“But I haven't come yet,” Sherlock countered.
“I know,” Greg moaned wanting nothing more than to stamp his foot.
"It's not going to happen boy, not before me." Sherlock nipped at his boy’s shoulder, then sucked a bruise there.
He struggled momentarily, and spotted Mycroft. “He seems comfortable, sir,” he pointed out, quickly rubbing himself off while Sherlock was distracted. But not distracted enough.
"Naughty, naughty pet. Do you really think me that unobservant." He thrust hard into Greg, then pulled nearly all the way out. "You tempt me to fetch a cock cage before I continue."
“No, sir. No, I'm sorry, sir.”
“Hmm,” Sherlock tipped his head on one side. “I don't think you are.” He pulled out, leaving his pet feeling abruptly empty, and fetched a cage. He could have put it on his pet in his sleep by now, so it was no trouble to reach under him and lock it in place.
John couldn’t help but smile. Greg had been asking for it, rubbing himself off like he had.
“Want to join in?” Sherlock asked. He jerked his head towards his pet's head. “His mouth is up for the taking right now.”
With a glance at his own pet, John stood up. "Yeah. I think I'd like that very much." He crossed over and ran a hand through Greg’s silver hair. “Shame mine fell asleep.”
“He doesn't sleep enough as it is.”
John barked a laugh. "Pot, kettle there, Sherlock."
The doctor rolled his eyes. "Right." He unfastened his belt and trousers and shoved them down along with his pants.
Greg’s eyes widened at the sight of both Doms then he tried to shrug but couldn’t manage it.
“Open,” John ordered.
Not seeing any reason to rebel and actually thinking to enjoy himself, Greg opened his mouth. When John's cock slid in, the Inspector began sucking and licking it. He quickly lost himself to the pleasure of trying to bring John off. All of his focus was on that single task.
“Hey, don’t finish yet,” Sherlock grumbled.
His complaint made the doctor laugh. “Shut up. You invited me over here.”
That made Greg laugh around the doctor’s cock despite himself. He was just lucky he hadn't accidentally bitten him in the process.
“You can shut up as well,” John ordered, reaching over and smacking the older man on the arse.
It was all the chief inspector could do not to burst into a fit of giggles. In fact, he came so close that he swallowed John down far enough to make himself gag.
The detective rolled his eyes. "For such an intelligent sub you aren't half stupid sometimes."
Greg ignored that and set back to work trying to satisfy John. The doctor gripped his silver hair tight and it shot another wave of arousal through the chief inspector.
Sherlock paused where he was. To watch as John was getting closer and closer to the edge. Almost mezmerised, he placed a hand on Greg’s lower back. His hand slid down over his pet's arse and gave it a squeeze.
The sub somehow managed to stop himself from biting the doctor. His gaze flickered up to check him.
John’s eyes locked with his, blue meeting brown. The heat between them increased tenfold and the doctor was soon coming inside Greg’s mouth.
“No fair!” Sherlock said just like a child, while patting his pet's arse again.
The doctor ignored him, enjoying the aftershocks as Greg cleaned him with his tongue. He only pulled out when he became to sensitive to enjoy it. Then he walked around and sat on the Inspector's back, watching his own sub still snoring softly.
Sherlock pouted at the cheeky grin John gave him.
"What? You offered and I accepted. It doesn't mean you can't use him too." The doctor ran a hand through Greg’s hair. "As you know, he's really quite good."
“I'm happy with this end,” Sherlock said with a shrug. “Come on Gregory, you can do better than that.”
The newly promoted chief inspector just grunted. He couldn't do much with John sitting on him. He was doing good to breathe. Still, he managed a little arse wiggle.
Sherlock just laughed. “John, you've broken my pet.”
“Yeah, well mine has completely shut down.”
A glance at his brother showed Mycroft was still sleeping. "Not my problem. Now get off my toy. I want to take advantage of his lovely arse."
John snorted. “But he is comfortable!” He reached over and pushed his fingers into Greg's mouth.
The DI fellatted them without thinking until he got a slap on his arse, a hard slap. He yelped loudly and looked back over his shoulder reprovingly.
“I didn't tell you to suck them,” Sherlock ordered, thrusting in much harder.
Greg gasped when Sherlock hit his prostate just right and sparks flew before his eyes. He would have pushed back to meet his Dom if it weren't for John sitting atop him.
“Sir, please can I come,” Greg whimpered still sucking on the doctor's fingers.
"Not." Thrust. "Just." Thrust. "Yet." Sherlock pulled almost entirely out of him and held the position for a moment, grasping the base of his own cock and willing himself back from the brink. He wanted this to last a bit longer.
John was absentmindedly rocking from side to side, trying to distract the copper on the bench. He was doing a rather decent job too.
Still, when Sherlock finally thrust back into him, Greg let out a moan of relief. He was so very close to coming. Trying to nudge his Dom over the edge, he clamped down on his cock as tightly as he could.
"Fuck!" Sherlock tipped right over the edge unceremoniously. "Jesus, pet, you can come."
That was all Greg needed, he let his orgasm wash over and through him, enjoying the all consuming sensations.