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Walter	By : Spike119 Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Sherlock Holmes > Threesomes Plus Views: 3424 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on the Sherlock Holmes series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Chapter List
- 1-Walter
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Author's note -- this was written as a joke in response to some idle chatter on Holmesslash about ferrets. No plot, just three guys gettin' it on in a railway carriage.

Walter

“By all that’s holy, I am glad to be rid of that man!” Lestrade exclaimed, as we settled ourselves and our luggage into the first-class compartment.

“I did find His Lordship’s company somewhat unpleasant,” Holmes yawned, stretching out in the corner of the seat.

“Holmes,” said I in an aggrieved tone, “the man was fatuous, conceited, opinionated, bigoted –”

“—and completely innocent of any crime,” Holmes finished with a dismissive wave, “or at least, any crime currently on the books of our fine judicial system. Now, we three, on the other hand –”

Lestrade and I exchanged knowing looks, and then flew into action. While I pulled down the shades and locked the door, Lestrade pinned Holmes to his seat, biting his neck viciously. Holmes did not struggle to free himself from Lestrade’s clutches, but immediately responded in kind, pulling the man’s mouth to his own just as I dove upon Lestrade’s back. I reached around his waist and undid his belt and fly-buttons, pulling his trousers and drawers down to his knees in one swift motion as I began to cover the back of his neck with fierce kisses. A thought struck me as I ground my rapidly growing hardness into Lestrade’s bare buttocks, and I whispered my request in his ear, knowing that Holmes would also understand what I wished. They both nodded their assent, their mouths still locked together. I kissed their cheeks and turned to rummage in my medical bag for the required salve while Lestrade helped Holmes remove his trousers.

When I turned around, a delightful sight greeted me: Holmes lay back upon the seat, his legs open wide, holding himself open for Lestrade, who knelt before Holmes, greedily licking his ballsac.

Grinning, I leaned over Lestrade and planted a long, teasing kiss upon the tip of Holmes’ prick, running my tongue down along his length until I met Lestrade’s busy mouth. We shared a momentary kiss as we traded places, and Lestrade began sucking Holmes’ cock as I greased his hole. I frigged Holmes for a while, watching with admiration as Lestrade masterfully licked the throbbing manhood, but soon I became fevered with arousal, and I stood up, hastily undoing my own trousers.

Lestrade smiled and pulled his mouth from Holmes’ prick, sending a groan from the latter, who had been reveling in our attentions.

Without a word, the inspector positioned himself with his cock at Holmes’ small opening, pausing only momentarily before plunging in to the hilt. He then held himself still, his gleaming buttocks tantalizing me as I spread them and began to lubricate the passageway. I rubbed my prick along his crack for only a few delicious passes, and then I thrust myself deep inside him, moaning as his inner muscles squeezed and caressed me.

We did not move for some few seconds, but then we began to pump our hips together, our laboured breathing the only sound apart from the slap of skin against skin as our thrusts grew deeper and faster. It could not last for long; Lestrade was first, throwing his head back with a wolf-like howl as he came to glory, his wildly contracting muscles bringing me to my own climax, just as I heard the familiar groan that told me Holmes, too, had reached his completion.

We three collapsed upon the floor of the railway carriage and lay together thus for a while, a heap of sweaty bodies, our arms and legs tangled together comfortably. Eventually, however, we knew that we must be nearing the station, and so we regretfully arose and put our clothes and selves to rights.

Holmes sniffed the air as he fastened his belt. “Good heavens, what is that smell?”

I frowned sharply at him. “Holmes, that is a fine thing to say just after – hold on, what is that smell?”

“Oh, that would be Walter,” Lestrade said, pulling on his waistcoat.

“Walter?” Holmes ejaculated.

“My nephew’s ferret,” Lestrade explained patiently.

“And should I ask why you have the animal with you in a first-class railway compartment from Leeds to London?”

“His school doesn’t allow pets in the dormitory,” Lestrade told us, “but the boy smuggled it in nevertheless. So once my wife found out we were going to Leeds –”

“Say no more,” Holmes laughed. “The things we do for the people we love, eh?”

“Excuse me,” I put in, “what sort of beast is this?”

“A ferret,” said Holmes, “is a cousin of the little fellow we met in the matter of the death of Colonel Barclay, I believe.”

“Shall I make introductions?” Lestrade asked, smiling.

“I say, this ferret,” I coughed, “he couldn’t – er, that is to say, could he see –”

It was Holmes’ turn to trade knowing looks with Lestrade. “Well, we still haven’t corrupted him enough, Inspector,” said he with a laugh.

“He’s not shy about coming up with absolutely scandalous suggestions,” Lestrade agreed teasingly, “but he manages to be mortified at the thought that a rodent might have seen him in the act.”

I smiled despite myself. “So let us meet the fellow, already.”

“In fact,” Lestrade said, as he pulled a wicker basket out from the jumble of boxes, “he was probably sleeping. He doesn’t like railway journeys; I think they upset his stomach.”

A, sleek, elegant white head with intelligent pink eyes popped out of the top of the basket, followed by a pair of tiny paws on short legs. The whole animal poured gracefully out, sniffing the air before tentatively approaching each of us in turn.

“Halloa, boy,” Holmes purred, scratching Walter behind the ear. “You weren’t bothered by our little game, were you?”

I frowned with mock disapproval. “You’re a wanton, Holmes.”

“Ah, yes, but I’m your wanton,” he rejoined cheerfully.

Walter settled down into Lestrade’s lap with a tiny yawn, stretching his long body out before curling into a tight ball, his nose at the base of his tail.

Holmes rubbed his hands together, sniffing the fingertips. “A not altogether unpleasant odour,” he said, “but definitely on the strong side. It is amazing that your nephew thought he could conceal a ferret in a dormitory.”

Lestrade nodded sadly, looking at the creature who now lay on his lap, eyes tightly closed. “Alice will have to wash this suit separately tonight. That means I’m on pot-scrubbing duty before I can smoke my evening pipe.”

“And even after you were so good as to transport the source of that smell from Leeds upon her command? Tut, tut, we shall have to have a word with her, eh, Watson? We must beg the good lady to grant our poor friend amnesty.”

“Perhaps we could plead amicus curiae,” I smiled, as the train pulled into the station. “You and Alice are still planning on joining us for dinner Friday night, yes?”

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Lestrade answered, scooping Walter gently up and back into his basket. “Alice just ordered a new outfit from Paris,” he added significantly, with a grin that went straight to both of our groins.

I swallowed hard. “Is this the same establishment from which she procured –”

“The leather corset, yes.”

We sat in silence for a moment, each man lost in his own lustful thoughts of the very good-natured Alice Lestrade and her delectable corsets.

“Well, here we are then,” Holmes said cheerfully. “Seven o’clock, then? You may bring a bottle of wine, if you like, but if you please, leave Walter at home.”
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Walter