Elle's Story | By : Cozygoma-lover Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3527 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of BBC SHERLOCK. It belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's estate, the BBC, Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. I gain nothing from my story financially. I enjoyed writing it, hoping you will have pleasure reading it equall |
Elle woke to find her left arm and leg crooked across Sherlock. Senses tingling she realised, limp, used and somewhat abused, he was still very slightly within her: they had been together all night. Had neither of them stirred enough to even separate them? Taking a long breath she shifted herself just fractionally, ensuring her captive could not fall away from her then, concentrating hard to tense muscles in the correct order, she choreographed a tighten and release rhythm that pumped life back into his soft phallus.
Sherlock started to wake, feeling his manhood being caressed by her muscles alone. A languishing moan of pleasure he gripped her bottom with both hands and pushed her further on to him, luxuriating in the phenomenon of being woken with sex. Her body tensioned in an orgasmic ripple of lust and passion.
Using his superior strength and core muscle control he rolled the pair of them over, keeping his hands tight on her rear he pushed himself more within her, hard, quick and heated. As the roll pressed him stronger within her his penetration sent waves of pleasure over and through her body, his own climax soon forthcoming and extremely powerful; his whole body vibrating with the moment, her second orgasm matched his one in both timing and ferocity.
"Morning" came breathless recognition.
"Morning" she replied.
"What the effing hell happened there?" he questioned, quasi-swearing, half laughing.
"I woke and you were still inside me. We could not have moved all night. It felt so strangely erotic to find you soft but still there, my muscles started to tingle and tension to evoke a reaction."
"Looks like they just got one! I need that shower we were going to have last night. Care to join me?"
"Can you guarantee to keep your hands off me?"
"Guarantee? No."
"Then yes, I will join you."
"You really are an insatiable glutton for punishment."
"No, just an insatiable glutton for you Sherlock. Any idea what time it is?"
"Oh, shit. It is only twenty past seven. We can't shower yet. We'll wake John and Mary."
"Sorry, I should not have woken you. Do you want to sleep a bit longer?"
"Not really. Don't apologise for waking me like that! In fact, don't ever apologise at all. Every man at least once in his life should be woken with sex. It was wonderful! Can you guarantee to keep your hands off me if we just plan to lie here together?"
"Guarantee? No."
"Oh. Good." A smile burst across Sherlock's face. He extracted himself from the bed covers, grabbed his robe and walked out to the bathroom. A splashing of water from the tap later he returned to the room, and closed the door, looking somewhat more awake and refreshed. Dropping his robe on the floor as he crossed the room he moved to climb back into bed, but Elle stopped him short. Sitting up she took his hands and guided him to stand close to the divan's edge.
Locking her eyes into his she released his hands, put hers on his bottom, squeezing the cheeks as she pulled his hips forward, guiding the extent of his soft phallus in between her lips. He curled his arms around her head, stroking her hair, standing in front of her, involuntarily gyrating his hips, controlled by her hold from both sides. Her eyes were closed now, but his were locked on what she was doing to him. Her mouth released him briefly as her tongue touched under and lifted each testicle in turn, kissing them, then she started to traverse her way back up his now stiffening form to the rim, pushing his foreskin back with her lips, licking all over his glans, kissing it with her wet and inviting mouth.
Unfortunately watching her was taking him to the brink far quicker than he wanted. He put his finger under her chin and held her head back as he freed himself from her caressive lips. "Move over" he whispered and clambered back into the bed alongside her. It might not have been his plan or intention, but Elle was now on a mission and immediately sidled down the bed to re-take her place, now with her man under covers, prone instead of standing. Sherlock's dissipating groan coupled with a wry smile marked his acceptance of this fate and he left her to gorge upon him. He interlaced his fingers and put his hands behind his head, closing his eyes, pleasure-bent.
There was a soft tap on the door, which opened slowly. A bleary-eyed John walked into the dim room. "Hello, Sherlock?" he whispered. "I heard you moving about. I have just received a text message from... oh, excuse me, sorry, I had better leave."
"A message from where, John? Lestrade?" Suddenly very businesslike in his tone, Sherlock was fully attentive to what John had to say, leaning up on his lower arms. John, though, was less so.
"I... errr... I... yes, Lestrade. He has left a message, look, for both of us." John moved over to the bed keeping his eyes fixed to his friend's face, and passed Sherlock his phone.
GL: SH/JW lead on case points to past Plymouth-based homicide. Checking out with Devon Const. Early start. Will keep you posted. Thanks for help again. GL
Sherlock held out the phone back towards it's owner. "I guess that puts us off duty for a while. Thanks John. Breakfast around 10?"
Since John's arrival into the bedroom Elle had not moved at all on Sherlock, neither had she risen from under the covers. The position of her body shape within the bedding however showed clear enough for John to know exactly where she was and more than likely what she was doing there. He agreed regarding breakfast and retreated from the room, closing the door.
Sherlock's attention now returned to Elle. He could feel her tongue rolling around him, moving his deep dorsal vein. They may have lost some of their impetus thanks to the short disturbance but she was obviously continuing from where she had paused, and he was now refocused on her, energised by her coaxing. Sucking his foreskin, she slipped the end of her tongue inside it then pushed it back with the grip of her lips.
Her fingers clawed on his chest, not leaving an imprint but informing Sherlock she was closing in on her own orgasm. He took her hand, trying to pull her up the bed; he wanted to take her, but she was going nowhere. He instead arched his pelvis towards her, feeling her slide her hand down his stomach and along his thigh, up between his legs, cupping his balls as she licked and sucked him again. She sensed the tension in him and sucked deeply as he ejaculated, his whole body shaking. Throbbing and bursting his full ejaculation was encouraged into her mouth. He felt as though his whole body was going to self-combust, then realised he could feel an equally extraordinary amount of heat emanating from her. She had climaxed. Her mouth released her prey and she swallowed, her head rested on his hip; she too was shaking.
The pounding of her heart thumped against his inner thigh. It felt incredibly erotic. He wanted to pull her up and embrace her for the wondrous sensation she had caused him, but he felt she would rise when she was ready. A few minutes' later her head finally appeared from below the covers. Hot, sweaty, red-faced she dropped her head on the pillow near him, taking in slow lungfuls of air now she was no longer sheathed in duvet. He looked at her satisfied closed-eyed face wondering what on Earth to say when the first words uttered were from her.
"Sorry about that. I think I got a bit carried away." Their discussion carried on in animated whispers.
"Sorry? You are apologising to me again, and for what? For making me feel so... oh, that was exquisite."
"Thank goodness for that. I would hate to think I did all that just for my gratification alone." An impish smile crossed her lips.
"I think it is fair to say I enjoyed it at least equally as much as you did. Believe me."
"But you tried to stop me. Why?"
"I wanted to give as much as I was getting, share the experience more. But I realised you have a stubborn streak and no intention of moving so I left you to it. I just feel a little guilty I was the one to get all the pleasure."
"You weren't! I have told you before 'anyone who thinks a woman gives a man a blow job solely for his pleasure is most truly mistaken'. I love the sensation. I crave the feeling of you within my mouth. Surely you must have realised I was in orgasm too?"
"Yes, but not of my making."
"Of course it was Sherlock. I wanted you that way. Desperately. So long as you don't feel abused?"
"What? You think I might feel you took advantage? How terrible for me."
"Seriously..."
"Seriously. You loved it. I loved it. And... when I recover enough I will show you just how much I loved it. Here." He put his arm out so she could snuggle up to him. They lay together silently for around forty minutes, cuddling, stroking, kissing, then it was the detective who spoke again. "We had better get up and shower. I suggested 10 for breakfast to John when he came in earlier."
Picking up and putting on his robe as he left Sherlock found Elle in hot pursuit as he headed into the bathroom. She closed and locked the door behind her as he walked into the cubicle and turned on the shower, shivering slightly as the initial water was cold. By the time Elle had joined him the water was running at temperature. Soaking his hair he lathered then passed the shampoo. She followed suit, then conditioner, then Sherlock squirted body gel on to a shower puff and began rubbing her in gentle circling movements, sculpting around her curves. Passing the puff Elle started with Sherlock's back, backside and back of thighs, letting the soapy water run down the rest of his legs. As he turned to face her she smiled. He was fully erect again. She bit her lower lip suggestively raising her left brow, highlighting the glint in her eyes.
"Damn you" he exclaimed in a semi-breathless whisper. He put his arms between her legs, lifted her, trapped her between him and the wall and pushed himself inside her, she coiling her arms around his neck, her legs around his back, licking his throat then gently biting his lip. He used the wall to full advantage: no soft bed giving way at his thrusts, she was getting everything, and quickly too. Like a rampant steed he charged his way to another orgasm, taking her, very vocally, there as well. "Oh, shit." The only words he could manage to utter as he left the cubicle to dry whilst Elle rinsed conditioner from her locks. It was a very interesting start to their Saturday.
Twenty minutes later the pair were in the kitchen, talking generally as John surfaced from his room and came downstairs, he too was damp-haired having also showered, saying Mary was in there now. The shortest glance between Sherlock and Elle made them realise they had both thought the same thing: wonder if they had been in there together?
"Sorry about earlier." He looked to both of them. "Nice to know we have the day off though." Sherlock did not give the situation a second thought. Elle, however, did think her supposition was correct on whether his autistic-style nature liked to be appreciated in anything he did so, like with his crime solving, he had felt pleasure from being observed.
Mary joined them and they all sat down to fresh orange juice, toast and coffee. Noticing the rain they agreed the best plan was to stay at Baker Street for the day, sure they could find something to occupy them. A loud PING disrupted proceedings, just as one had last Sunday from Mycroft. John said "I bet that's Lestrade" looking expectantly to his colleague to pick up his phone.
"It wasn't mine" Sherlock said.
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