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Elle's Story	By : Cozygoma-lover Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3523 -:- 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

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Elle woke to the sound of running water. It was nearly 9am and Sherlock was drawing a bath. She rose and slipped into her robe, made the bed, then walked out into the bathroom to find him. He was sitting on the edge of the bath, running hot water into a frenzy of bubbles. He kissed her, then took her hand and helped her into the water, squeezing a natural sponge over her body, soaking her. She lay back and relaxed in the lavender scented water. Her eyes were closed but she heard a splash and felt the water displace as her beau joined her. He was rubbing her with the sponge now. She opened her eyes, took the sponge and started to wash him too. They finished with their feet behind one another's backs, their arms around each other, just enjoying the moment and the water around them. Intense kissing and stroking fired all the senses within her, yearning desperately for him now.
Just as Elle was about to climb out of the bath, Sherlock rose, pulled her up then clambered out of the tub and turned on the shower. He let her go in first, following her. Rinsing away the suds they both then showered and washed their hair. The water was very hot, the shower cubicle steamy, and about to get steamier. Elle watched the water run down Sherlock's chest. Her eyes opened wide and she smiled. He returned that smile then nodded and leaned against the shower wall. She slid her hands down the fronts of his legs as she lowered herself to her knees and took the fullness of his soft manhood into her mouth, as she grabbed his hips in her hands.
Rotating her tongue around him again and again, her tongue playing with his foreskin, she felt him gorge with blood and transform. Sucking then licking, short then long draughts, she brought him quite quickly to full erection. She wanted to take him a lot further, but he was slowing her down, positively groaning in the ecstasy of her attention. He took her hands from his hips and pulled her up to standing, lifting her immediately off her feet, turned around so her back was against the wall and entered her fully. With her legs over his hips and feet locked against one another behind him she pulled his head into her breasts and ran her fingers through his hair as he bent and stretched his legs using the movement to thrust further and further into her. Skin to skin, muscle to muscle, sex to sex, the pair delighted in the bodies of one another, enjoying their wet enthusiastic fornication.
As his teeth latched again on to her breast and she felt a surge from him her head rolled back and she let out a cry like a wounded banshee, tightening everything. He powered his way through the moment, but after, his knees buckled and she had to release her legs to put her feet on the ground before they were about to fall. Pulling apart to save an accident she steadied him against the wall until he re-opened his eyes and managed to take his own weight on his legs. He swore loudly.
"Bloody hell, what was that?"
"No idea" she panted, "but whatever it was I hope we find out again some time. Can I go back to bed now? I am more shattered than I was when I came in here in the first place!"
"You're shattered? Charming!"
"Oh, of course. You did do most of the work." She smiled, brushing his face tenderly with her hand. "I need a drink. What do you fancy?"
"I squeezed some oranges before running your bath, there is Champagne in the fridge as well, so Bucks Fizz would be great. Bring it into the bedroom. I will make the bed."
"I did that as I got out of it."
"Actually, I need to get the Bucks Fizz. You..." There was a knock on the outside door. "You go and answer the door. I thought - and hoped - we wouldn't be disturbed today."
Wrapping a towel around her head she put on her robe, made sure she was decent and skipped down the stairs like a teenager. "Yes, that is me. Oh, thank you, they're beautiful" Sherlock heard her say to some unknown face. Elle walked up the stairs slowly, carrying an enormous, and definitely very expensive bouquet. It was tied, arrangement-style, in clear cellophane, with a water bubble at the bottom.
"Wow" said Sherlock as the Champagne cork left its bottle into his hand, "who are they from?" He began pouring the bubbly into two long flutes, rescuing a pair of crumpets from the toaster and coating them with butter.
"Here, there is a card." She read it aloud. "Dearest Elle, Many Happy Returns and very best wishes to you and my brother. Regards Mycroft."
"Oh my God, he's human!" Sherlock exclaimed. Elle laughed then placed the bouquet in the middle of the kitchen table, admiring it, turning it to decide which angle to put it for best impact on walking into the room, but it did not matter. It was just perfectly stunning from every direction.
"I guess he saw more than he was willing to admit to when he came into your bedroom a couple of days ago." Elle removed the damp towel from her head, taking a bite of her crumpet.
"What makes you say that?" Sherlock was adding the fresh orange juice to the flutes now, noticeably there was more fizz than bucks this time.
"Well, he did not call you 'little' brother, did he?" She grinned mischievously. Sherlock threw the cork at her. They both laughed and returned to the bedroom. Sherlock had been busy whilst she answered the door. He had gathered up all her birthday presents and laid them out on the bed.
"Wow. I don't remember being so popular." Sherlock had piled all the cards together. She started opening those first, each finishing a crumpet.
"You will be popular with the florists if you insist on answering the door like that!" Elle looked down. Though modestly covered, her nipples were now erect and stimulated, the satin cloth over them and the slight dampness from the drips from her hair now exacerbated the look. "Wow!" Sherlock repeated.
Both of them sat on the bed with their legs crossed, Sherlock occasionally stroking her back with his hand subconsciously. After opening the cards she pulled forward a big single parcel. Beautifully wrapped in bright white gloss paper and tied up with a huge purple bow the label read 'To Elle, Happy birthday, Best wishes, Mrs Hudson x'.
"Gosh, this is heavy. From Mrs Hudson, look." She opened the parcel and they both began to laugh. A set of white and off-white striped Egyptian cotton sheets and matching pillow cases, a perfect fit no doubt for Sherlock's kingsize bed.
"Well done Mrs Hudson. Another set for rotation" he grinned.
"That's actually so thoughtful and kind. How sweet of her. See, she does remember young love after all."
"Yes, how sticky it often is. Ow." Sherlock had received a little dig in the ribs from Elle's left elbow.
The sentiments on all the parcels were roughly the same. The next she opened was a bag from Em and Ben. There were two gifts inside: a pair of yellow gold creole earrings and a smart long-sleeved t-shirt from a high-end designer collection.
The next - a bag from Kaye and Tony - was a new pair of black skinny jeans from Elle's favourite jeans manufacturer, and a small black leather cross-body handbag.
"What was the gift they took with them yesterday for you? I meant to ask last night but we were on a time line."
"It was best-seats-in-the-house and back stage passes to the show. Must have cost a bomb, and we met the cast after the performance. Brilliant play."
The next bag was signed from Em and Kaye only. "Interesting. Why something else, I wonder?" Again there were two parcels. Opening the first she gasped, on opening the second she just laughed loudly, head back, mouth wide open. Sherlock demonstrably collapsed backwards on to the pillows having seen the boxed vibrator and set of cock rings Elle had just unwrapped. He sat back up, putting his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder, cuddling her from behind.
"Your friends obviously care for you very much Elle" he said smiling, kissing the side of her neck.
"Oh my. I just remembered Kaye's expression yesterday when she handed over the birthday bags, remember her going so red and giggling? No wonder. She'd bought Sherlock Holmes a cock ring!"
"Serves her right feeling embarrassed. How do you think I feel?"
"Who cares. Think how you will feel when you wear one!"
"Seriously?"
"Ooh yeah! Anyway, they did not know you were you when they bought them, did they?"
"I guess not." Sherlock slugged his Bucks Fizz as Elle reached for a large slim box. "That was given me yesterday to give to you. It is from Greg. He apologised he did not wrap it himself, there is no label. He got it in Fortnum's." Elle ripped the paper off a box of best quality chocolate biscuits from the renowned retailer, covered in their duck-egg blue signature wrapping.
"Umm, lovely. That is so kind of him. Thank him on my behalf when you next see him. I will thank him personally when I see him too. He must have picked them up yesterday."
Finally Elle came to a large decorated paper bag with a tag reading 'To Elle all our love on your birthday, John and Mary xx'.
Elle opened the bag. Again there were multiple presents inside: a medium sized thin package, very lightweight; a small box, slightly larger than the one Sherlock's bracelet had been in, surprisingly heavy, and an even larger square box wrapped in blue paper - heavier still. Each box had an individual label on it. The largest, surprisingly, said 'To Sherlock - for Elle - have fun xx'.
"I think you are supposed to open this one." Elle passed Sherlock the box. He tore off the blue paper quickly, the box was just plain cardboard. He opened it and now he laughed loudly. "What is it?" Sherlock held up four long lengths of black braided cord, the supple kind curtain ties and some dressing gown belts are made from. Sherlock's eyes suddenly looked menacing. He flicked his eyebrows at her and was just moving in for a sneaky kiss when she said "Was that in your parcel too?" He picked up a much smaller package off the bed, only just slightly larger than a ring box. He snapped it open and found two keys.
"I wonder what on Earth they are for?" He handed them over to Elle who looked at them, just as puzzled as he was. "Finish your other presents."
"It says 'To Elle - for Sherlock - enjoy xx' on this one. Dare I open it I wonder?" She did. Inside was the most beautiful gossamer sheer midnight purple negligee with tiny gold star sequins sewn upon it.
"Put it on" breathed Sherlock. Elle climbed off the bed, took a quick draught of Bucks Fizz, dropped her satin robe to the floor and slipped on the negligee, walking across the room and back. It was long sleeved, covering to just beyond halfway down her thighs, and tied with a matching material belt. It was simply exquisite. "Well, that is a waste."
"I think it is beautiful; it feels wonderful on the skin. Do you not like it then?"
"Like it? I love it but you are never going to wear it more than a few minutes. I cannot describe in words what it is doing to me. And I would hate to damage it. You look sensational. I... oh". He dropped on to his elbows and his head swung backwards, his eyes raised to the ceiling.
"Is it turning you on Sherlock?"
"What do you think?"
"I think I might just have to find out." She reached for his robe belt.
"Hey, it's your birthday, not mine."
"I know, and amongst all these kind and thoughtful presents it is you I want more than any."
"I am sure you have another present to open from John and Mary."
"Oh yes. Saved by the gift. For now." She opened the last package. "Oh. Perhaps not saved after all." Her eyes dilated and she sniggered. Inside the last box was a pair of satin sheathed handcuffs. "Well, at least now we know what the keys are for." She held them so Sherlock could see.
"Oh, shit." They both laughed. "The nerve of them. Our friends, they're supposed to be."
"They obviously remembered we said we had tied one another up. Surrender Mr Holmes. You are now going to be my captive." She picked up the box with the keys in it, tried the lock of the handcuffs first ensuring they were paired, then fastened Sherlock's wrist into one. She took two of the four pieces of cord, tied both ends of one piece around the headboard making a tight band, linked the handcuff chain through it and fastened the second manacle on his other wrist.
Sherlock capitulated. It was no good fighting the inevitable; she was going to tie him up, then eat him alive. Roping his feet together with the second cord she then tied off his feet cord to the bed leg so he could move his own about but not separate them. Actually undoing the belt on his robe this time, Elle found his cock erect and glistening. She removed her new negligee and put her satin robe back on. "I don't know whether to ride you or suck you. What do you think?"
"Suck first. Now Elle" he croaked. No time for refinement she gripped his cock, opened her mouth and slipped her lips down his length. "Oh, God" was his exclamation. Sliding her mouth up and down him, she took easily as much pleasure from this as him then, she concentrated on opening her throat muscles. In the full sense of the meaning she deep throated him, surprisingly, as it was the first time she had ever tried to do it, without any gag reflex. He, on the other hand, could barely breathe. "Oh, shit." He was really fighting the shackles now. He wanted to take her so badly.
Extricating him steadily from her mouth, continually licking him, keeping her lips and tongue against him until he was totally free to the air again she moved up the bed, straddled him, knees bent, and dropped herself on to him so comprehensively she cried out loudly and went into orgasm nearly immediately. Her eyes found his and there was an expression she had not seen for some time. A look of desirous lust, not love, was scrawled across his angular features. Pulling her internal muscles as tight as she possibly could she rode him quick and hard to orgasm, taking herself there again too, him pulling against the handcuffs and ties in absolute rapture. Under his breath he sighed "Happy birthday Sherlock". A grin of total satisfaction radiated across his face.
"It's not your birthday." She was re-finding the keys to release him. She unlocked his wrists.
"Are you quite sure? Damn, that was good. Holy f..." She planted her lips firmly on his, sliding her tongue deep in his mouth. As the kiss finally ended "...uck" he finished. "Hungry?" She nodded. "Me too." His eyebrow flicked.
Sherlock sat up, undid the tethers on his ankles, grabbed the pillows from the other half of the bed, made a supportive mound, shuffled Elle on to it and fastened up her wrists in the handcuffs as his had been. Climbing off the bed he tied one of her ankles with the cord she had used on him, then selected another from the box in order to unsubtly tie her other ankle, leaving her legs wide apart. Throwing the bedding back over her to keep her warm he said winking "I'll be back shortly" when her mobile phone rang. He passed it to her, then tying his robe as he left the room, empty crumpet plate in hand, he, for the first time, heard her one side of a conversation.
"Hi Mum... thank you... 21 again of course, you know that...Yes, I am having a wonderful day thank you. I have had some lovely cards and presents - thank you for your card... yes Katherine and Emma brought it with them when they came into Central London and treated me yesterday... I am spending today with my boyfriend, we are about to have an early lunch... Yes, well, we have been off a normal time line all day, what with opening cards and presents, and I was late back last night as the girls took me to the theatre. Barely made it to bed before midnight... I'm a little tied up at the minute... Yes, Mum, I promise, but not over the phone. I will see you soon, then I will tell you all about him... OK... ooo, looks like I have Champagne with my lunch... yes, he is quite a romantic... no we won't. No-one with any sense drives in London anyway... Thanks again Mum. Bye, love, bye."
"A little tied up?? I think you are a lot tied up to be fair."
"Yes, but I was not going to say that to my Mother now, was I? Even she would probably have seen through that un-subtlety. Well, maybe not. What have you got there?" Sherlock pulled the bedcovers off again, leaving Elle semi-wrapped in her robe.
"Champagne, prawns, chocolate, and fruit... we must make sure you get some of your five a day." He smiled at her and lowered a tray to the bedside table. There was Champagne in an ice bucket but no orange juice this time; juicy prawns, tiny plum tomatoes, chocolate coated strawberries, then some other easy to handle bite-sizes of fruit - melon, grapes, raspberries, some orange segments, some more uncoated strawberries and giant chocolate buttons, "Lunch" clarified Sherlock. Elle realised she was about to be fed. He poured two glasses of Champagne and held one glass to her lips and the second to his own. "Cheers!"
So this was Mr Holmes' idea of playtime? Or was it torture? Elle was unsure. All she knew was she was all trussed up, extremely vulnerably, and at his mercy, and she could not be happier.
Sherlock sat on the bed at her side feeding her first, then himself. The prawns were fuel only, delicious as they were the pair were really only interested in the fruit and chocolate. The poor tomatoes were left abandoned altogether. After eating the prawns, out came the first piece of fruit he fed her, melon - it dribbled down her chin softly. He licked away the trace and returned with a raspberry, grape, strawberry, another piece of melon, more raspberries, a piece of orange and more strawberries, then a chocolate covered strawberry.
This was not torture, but he was definitely tantalising her. She felt his weight move on the bed and he settled kneeling between her legs. He touched her lips again with a couple of the chocolate buttons, which she ate, then some for him, placing a further two on one of her breasts, near the nipple. They melted quickly and he licked it off her skin. It demonstrated just how hot she was at that moment. Now he let her see and smell a coated strawberry and as she reached for it, he moved it slightly further away. She craned her neck upwards to try and get the fruit and, whilst being distracted in doing so he inserted an ice cube inside her with his other hand.
Now this was torture! The chilled sensation set every nerve ending in her body a-jangling, as he rolled the ice within her as it melted. She finally got her strawberry and enjoyed every morsel, but her mind had wandered substantially away from food. "Feed me Sherlock" she breathed. He touched her lips with more melon but she turned her head away and her eyes burned into his.
"Oh, I see, you want me to feed you? A shame that, as I intend to feed me." Moving down the bed breaking eye contact Elle felt another ice cube enter her, followed by a finger, then it withdrew and in went his tongue. It felt to her as though he could lick far enough inside her to reach her navel; he lapping the water and her flavour as the ice melted and chilled her walls within, nibbling her intently. She was trying every meditative technique she knew to remove her mind from that area, not wanting to orgasm yet. Another ice cube, then another. She was thirsty, all the more so knowing he was drinking, drinking the very essence from her. She could resist no longer. Her body convulsed and she tried to tighten her thighs around his head but could not do so thanks to the cords restraining her. She screamed loudly.
He retracted his tongue, then his lips, teeth and tongue played on her clitoris. Her body felt it would explode. She had never known such an intense orgasm without him being inside her. Sherlock moved up the bed. "Do you want me Elle?" came his soft whispered deep baritone voice.
"Yes" she sighed.
"When?"
"Now, dammit."
"Tell me what you want Elle."
"You!!" she bellowed, loud enough for probably the whole of Baker Street, if not W1 to hear. Finally she got what she desired. He slipped his cock inside, pushed his hands under her backside and pressed himself so forcefully in her she was again in orgasm before he had chance to draw breath. She wriggled and writhed, straining against her bindings and wanting more, more, more of him, using those Kegel-trained muscles to their fullest advantage. She wanted him to join her and, sure enough, his orgasm was not long behind, she fighting him all the way to intensify his ecstasy.
Knowing the feeling he had after an extensive orgasm, he released the manacles on her wrists immediately, then retreated off the bed and squatted to his haunches as he untied each ankle. Elle rolled over, sat up, stood up, then collapsed on to the floor beside the bed, her chest heaving, moaning, drawing in what seemed as much breath as the room could hold. He moved swiftly to her side.
"Elle. Are you all right?"
"Damn you, Sherlock! Damn you to hell!" She curled in a ball on her side, half laughing, half crying. Sherlock pulled her robe around her, grabbed a pillow and slipped it under her head, still looking concernedly at the wreckage of the woman lying in front of him. Gradually her heart rate started to decrease and the gulping of air reduced to generous deep breathing. Her eyes started to re-focus and her body unfurled stretching out on the carpet, tension eventually leaving her limbs and loins.
Realising finally she was ok, Sherlock rose, tied closed his own robe, and left the room with a tray of prawn remnants, tomatoes, and the odd piece of fruit. Two plain strawberries left were destined to drown as he dropped them into the empty Champagne flutes, standing on the bedside table along with the bottle and bucket. Elle pulled herself together and went into the bathroom, where she splashed her face then rinsed down her body in the shower, holding her still damp hair out of the way. She put her robe back on after a gentle and inefficient towel-down, and joined Sherlock in the kitchen, the satin again clinging to her dampened form.
"You are quite extraordinary" said the detective.
"I am?"
"Were you aware that you ejaculated? When you were tied up, just now?"
"No. I was not even sure women could. I thought that was an urban myth."
"You really are a most sexual being." She walked over to him and put her hands on his hips, gazing into his eyes.
"Is this what you had planned all along for my birthday?" she asked biting her lower lip softly.
"Well, I did not know you were going to get so many interesting toys to play with, but once I knew Mrs Hudson was going to be away, a day of love making had been my intention, yes. Don't tell me you would rather go out into the City or something?"
"Oh, God no."
"Thirteen hours so far. How are you enjoying your birthday?"
He leaned against the kitchen counter waiting for the coffee to bubble through. "Very much." She raised her head and kissed his lips gently, caressively, moving her arms to around his neck. His arms wrapped around her in a truly loving, non-sexual embrace. "Ummm."
"What do you mean 'ummm'? What are you thinking or planning now?"
"You mentioned the word 'toys'. I think we need some time to recuperate, then I might just have to see what I, I mean we, can do with my other gifts."
"Oh."
Coffees made, they went and sat in the lounge on the settee together, her leaning into him, his arm draped gracefully across her shoulders. Coffees finished and the pair then moved so they were both lying on the settee together, Elle next to the sofa back, lying on her side, Sherlock flat on his back near the seat edge their arms entwined around one another. They drifted to sleep like this for around an hour. Sherlock was the first to stir, Elle was now lying more on him, her own body totally relaxed and calm, so different from the tortured coil that had collapsed in the bedroom some 90 minutes earlier.
He did not want to disturb her but he needed to visit the bathroom. He shuffled slightly, then rolled her more on her side again, leaning her against the back of the settee. As he stood up though, she opened her eyes. She smiled. "OK?"
"Yes. Just going to the bathroom." When he came back into the lounge Elle was precariously balanced on the arm of his chair. He sat down next to her and she slid onto his knee, him cradling her like a babe in arms. She snuggled into his shoulder, gently kissing his neck. Her lips moved slowly and caressingly towards his ear.
"I love you Sherlock." She smiled. He returned the smile, put his hand into her hair and held her head as his lips pressed unapologetically hard onto hers. Looking into one another's eyes she felt an erotic surge pulse through her. Standing up she opened his robe about to lower herself on to his erect phallus, but he stopped her, turned her, moved her robe to one side and sat her back on his lap. Her mouth dropped open and she groaned loudly as he lowered her, facing away from him, onto him. She found it difficult to control any movement from her position, and he was faring little better. He grabbed her tightly, holding her arms close to her sides, gradually moving their bodies forwards until both pairs of feet hit the floor. Standing together, she gyrated her body against him. His hands pressed down on her shoulders until they both knelt, she holding the arms of the chair and he pounding himself within her, rubbing her breasts with his hands, until they both came extremely noisily.
"Wow. That is so damn deep when you take me from behind" Elle defined as she gasped for air. Her whole body shook again. Sherlock stroked her back as she plunged into a second orgasm in this position. "Ooo" she sighed. "Feels wonderful but you have to work so hard as there is nothing easy about this position."
"It should be the easiest, bearing in mind it's how all the other mammals copulate. I guess we can chalk that one up to experience. Perhaps you have to plan for 'doggy style' and just do it, rather than try to move into it."
"I know one thing: it certainly encourages heavier breathing. My throat is so dry. I could do with another drink." Sherlock pulled away from her.
"Do you want another coffee making?"
"No thanks. Would rather finish the Champagne if it's not too warm."
"OK, I'll see you in there." Elle made her way back into the bedroom and removed the ties and handcuffs from the bed to the other side of the room. She heard the shower turned on and off in about 20 seconds whilst she straightened the sheets and duvet. As she sat on the bed, topping up her glass and downing the last of the Champagne, which by now had been standing in a bucket of very cold water, Sherlock entered the room in his loosely tied damp robe, towelling his exposed bare chest and neck.
"I think we need some more of this" holding up the Champagne bottle. She was about to take it out but Sherlock took the bottle and the ice bucket and did an about turn.
He returned to the bedroom, set down the refreshed ice bucket, took the bottle in his hand, which gave out a distinctive 'pop' as the cork released into his hand. He poured its contents over the strawberries into the glasses, and climbed on top of the bed to join Elle.
"I love you, you do know that don't you? I feel our relationship is much more than just sex now isn't it?"
"I think so, Sherlock, yes."
"Oh, God I am so glad you came into my life. I have been content to be a brain with a body, its only function the feeding and transport for the former. Now I am a body with a brain, and the body is having as much fun as I ever have with my brain. I no longer get bored and frustrated in the same way when I have not got a case to concentrate on because I can enjoy the distractions of you. Come here." He held out his arm and invited her in to cuddle him. She curled up against him, lying under his left shoulder, her left arm stroking his bare chest.
"This is a perfect birthday. Thank you. There is no other way I would have wanted to spend it than making love with you."
"What about on a warm, sunny beach somewhere?"
"Private beach?"
"Possibly. Why?"
"Because if I cannot be making love with you when the mood takes us without someone watching or seeing I would rather be here, where we can do what we want, when we want, and where we want within reason, without concern."
"Me too. Talking of which, when do you think the mood might take you again?"
"Funny you should ask that. I was just thinking how much your body looks as though it needs more touching and kissing. I am planning on being a 'distraction' again. Anything you desire. 'Your wish is my command' as they say. You know the game we played with John and Mary? I want to play it slightly differently. Tell me what you want me to do to you and I will do it. Be my puppeteer."
"All right. Here is a new one. Let me roll over and rub my back. I am still feeling some of the after effects of this morning's delectation in the shower." Sherlock sat up, removed his arms from his robe, then rolled. Elle knelt either side of his calves, undid and removed her own robe, breathed warm air on to her hands, then started to massage Sherlock's shoulders, neck and back.
As she bent forward to get force into his shoulders her breasts touched his back and he took a sharp intake of breath. A tingling came all over her body as she realised this was a whole unexplored area of him. She purposefully rubbed her breasts up his back, then her hands down, squeezing his pert bottom cheeks. Placing her tongue on his spine at waist height, she glided it upwards to the nape of his neck, lingering a little longer on the right hand side of his nape where she had discovered yet another beautiful mole. His breathing now was slow and expansive.
Returning to her previous starting point she traced the line down to the crevasse at the top of his bottom and licked in circular movements until he began to writhe to her touch. Spreading her hands wide gripping his cheeks she parted them enough to be able to slide her tongue down between them, rimming her tongue around his anal canal. The groan he released was stimulating to both. He was about to roll as Elle took a gentle but firm grip of the lower part of his left bum cheek in her teeth and sucked a real love bite into being; something she was not willing to do on the front of his pristine body, though Sherlock mentioned both John and Greg had spotted the bruise on his clavicle.
As he rolled over on to his front, she wrapped her mouth around his cock and took him slowly but steadily longer until she deep throated him again. This time she was more confident. She had done it once before with trepidation, this time she was ready to take everything he had. And she got it. He could not help but push although everything in his head said he should not move but the sensation was just too much to be able to resist completely.
Steadily withdrawing her mouth she licked and teased her way back to the tip, joyously nibbling, licking and semi-biting him, caressing the corona with her teeth until...
"Oh, no, no, no. No you don't. Jeepers, Elle. Enough is enough unless you want to take me alone. I thought I was supposed to be giving you instruction!"
"Would you have braved the instruction for that?"
"No. Probably not, but I would have wanted it. Should I ever have a terrible day please tell me there will always be that kind of pleasure waiting for me and I will never face boredom or fear again."
Elle was watching him. He was trying so hard to mentally talk himself down but it was not happening. He was still close. Very close. "Let me take you Sherlock. Let me take you all the way, by hand, by mouth, whichever."
"Go. Anything. Either. Both. Anything." Palpitating between each word, this genius, this brain, this high functioning sociopath, had been struck dumb from the ability to form coherent sentences.
Ever so gently she took each of his balls into her mouth in turn, then licked up his shaft all the way from root to tip. Placing her mouth back over him, she caressed his balls with her hand then slowly started giving him a hand job, picking up speed as she started to feel him begin to fight her and himself. At that fullest of moments she moved away from him letting him release on her breasts. He pushed the back of his head deep into the pillows. His eyes rolled and he looked as though he was trying to say something but the power of speech had now deserted him also. Breathing exceptionally deeply he put his fingers in her hair, grabbed her head and pulled her face to his, kissing her so deeply and strongly, trying to convey what the words would not, their bodies rubbed together, spreading his seed across both of them.
With his heart rate eventually nearing normal he sat up, climbed off the bed, grabbed her hand and pulled her up with him. Nearly frog-marching her into the bathroom, naked, he put the shower on, led her in there, mainly to rinse them both down, but also to caress and kiss her under the stimulating cascade of cooling water.
Wrapping her then himself in large bath sheets he walked back into the bedroom, his face looking flushed. Returning to the bed, his own scene of crime, he straightened the sheets before he put his head back on his pillow, his hair wet and damp body still in a towel. She was still in the bathroom. Just before Elle returned to the bedroom, Sherlock sent a text message to a friend...
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