It started with MapleleafCameo saying "Just read this thing on Tumblr - turn to page 35 of the nearest book -read the 3rd sentence down to determine the state of your sex life for the next year" Mine was 'And below that, a telephone number.' from Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere. Then Mattsloved1 said "We should each write a slashy 221B on our sentences. Lol"
So here is mine…

xXx

John was just settling down to eat lunch and catch up on admin when the receptionist knocked on the door.

"Sorry Dr Watson, message for you." She said, handing over a note.

Police require advice. Please ring.

And below that, a telephone number had been written. He knew that number. Sherlock.

Pressing the speed dial, he slipped across and locked the door. He would rather not be disturbed.

It was answered at the first ring.

"John." A breathy moan.

"Sherlock?"

"I want you John."

The deep velvet baritone entered John's ear and travelled straight to his groin. His breath hitched.

"I can't."

"I need you John."

"No, really Sherlock, I can't."

A growl reached him.

"God Sherlock, don't." He fought his body's reaction.

"I'm naked on the rug," the sultry voice continued. "I'm running my hands over…"

"Please," Unconsciously his hand slid over the bulge in his trousers "stop it."

"I'm imagining it's you." Sherlock's breath stuttered as he spoke, and John's own matched its broken rhythm.

"Slowly" John hissed, sliding his hand now inside his trousers.

"Firm and slow." Sherlock agreed.

It was difficult. John listened to Sherlock's sensual moans, biting his lip to stay silent, envisaging the other man's supple body. As he heard his partner's shouted release his own climax hit.

Eventually breathing steadied, and Sherlock spoke.

"Better?"