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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

Chapter List
- 21
- 22
- 23
The singing of birds was enough to let them know they had gone well past dawn without the desire or need to molest the other whilst sleeping after their newly agreed pact. One thing it was surprising had not woken them was the British weather. Yet again It was absolutely pelting it down. Sunshine and showers, and it was no longer even April. There seemed to be thunder in the air as well, as low rumbles could be heard, obviously some distance away.
The Friday was a quiet day. Thankfully it seemed that the Met had either sussed things themselves or found themselves in a hiatus in all the recent activity as Sherlock received a text to say nothing of interest to him was happening. Greg Lestrade had been informed by Sherlock he would be spending the long weekend with the Watsons at their home so would not be available unless for something very particular. Whereas Greg used to feel guilty if he had no case to tickle the brain cells of his genius friend, now the latter was in a physical relationship he felt more guilty when he did disturb him and required his assistance.
After a light breakfast of fruit juice, coffee and toast Elle and Sherlock made ready to go over to the Watsons, preparing their overnight bags with everything they would need for three nights' stay at friends.
Later they went for a damp walk into the heart of the capital, well wrapped from inclement weather and suspicious eyes. They visited Angelo's to return his insulated bags and ramekins, Elle kissed him on the cheek to thank him for the wonderful meal and the rose on her birthday. Angelo's words of "any time for my favourite couple" were duly acknowledged and a promise made of them or them and the Watsons visiting soon.
They wandered generally, finally making it to Trafalgar Square, through Admiralty Arch, up the Mall and to the front of Buckingham Palace. Sherlock recounted a strange case when he was man-handled into a car wrapped solely in a sheet and taken there to meet his brother, who had fetched him and John in on a situation of potential royal blackmail. Eventually Sherlock proved that was not so on that occasion.
"Why were you wrapped only in a sheet?"
"The job was for Mycroft again, so I cannot divulge too much detail. I was in a mood and determined not to jump through hoops for him so I said I was not going to help. Unfortunately two bodyguards raided my bedroom for my clothes and took them, my sheet and me in it in the back of a large limousine to the Palace. Poor John. He was attending what appeared to be a mysterious murder which I solved via the Internet in a few moments and was, in fact, an accident, and was helicoptered from the incident site to the Palace, only to find me, wrapped in my sheet in one of the Queen's drawing rooms. It was a strange case, involving a dominatrix, who was believed to be the blackmailer, and my arch enemy, Moriarty."
"This Moriarty guy. You said he is dead, didn't you?"
"Yes. We believe he is now, but people have come back from beyond the grave. Look at me."
"But did you not see him commit suicide?"
"I know what I thought I saw, but that is not necessarily right as John thought he saw me commit suicide moments later."
Standing outside the seat of the Commonwealth monarchy this seemed a very surreal conversation to be having. Sherlock blessed the bad weather. Everyone was wrapped up, under umbrellas or dashing as quick as possible, so it was very unlikely, even in such a public place, he would be spotted and recognised. They walked into Green Park, meandered through to the far side then Sherlock, with his A-Z detailed knowledge of the London city scape, directed them back to the top end of Baker Street where 221B was located, avoiding all high footfall areas.
Nice to have had a breath of fresh air, but they were all wet again, and cold from the swirling wind.
"I wonder what it is like standing about in all that ceremonial garb in hideous weather like this?" queried Elle rhetorically, not expecting any explanation. They walked quickly, arms around each other.
"No idea, but I do know those bearskins are heavy dry, never mind wet."
"God, it is May and still so bloody cold!"
"Care to warm up in a nice hot bath when we get in?"
"No, but a nice hot shower would be good."
"Am I ok to join you?"
"Of course, I would not want to waste water and shower alone." Sherlock laughed.
"If you are only planning on getting clean" he said, "you had better count me out."
"I think we can afford to get dirty first, then get clean. How does that sound?"
"It sounds about perfect to me. How desperate are you for your shower?"
"Well, I don't know about you but I think I probably need to go now. I am feeling particularly dirty at this minute, and am only going to get dirtier the longer it is put off."
"Just you wait for me. I don't want you to get dirty on your own. I want to make sure I am as dirty as you, at least." Their eyes locked. "I think we had better head straight into the bathroom don't you?"
"I think that is a good idea." They entered the apartment, their outer coats and hats peeled off as they went in through the flat door, there was no step change as the other layers streamed off too. Most of them were kept hold of and taken to the bedroom, but an odd garment or two would need to be collected later.
Silly talking. They both knew what they were talking about in earnest, but the fact was they had turned each other on to the point where his heart beat was more than double his relaxed rate would be, and she was trying to visualise different animal species for each letter of the alphabet, just to try to slow down her own pleasure process.
The shower was on and the temperature up high. Elle stepped in first, soaking all her hair and body. Sherlock joined her moments later and she ran her fingers through his hair as he became wetter, kissing him directly under the water's flow.
Breaking from the kiss Elle looked at the beautiful body standing in front of her. She automatically licked her lips upon her eyes finding his erection but catching Sherlock's eye, he shook his head. She raised a finger to his lips. "Slowly" she purred. "Slowly."
Not leaning her against the wall, all four feet still on the ground, this was going to be love making at its heart, not just sex. Their arms and lips were already entwined. Elle slid one of her feet up and down Sherlock's calf. He moaned softly into her mouth. Her right hand traversed down his left side, slipped between them, took hold of his cock and guided him to her and her to him, not opening her eyes, not releasing his lips.
Sherlock's head rolled and he let out a long earthy moan. He took control again, lifted his head and found her eyes with his, though his focus was definitely in question. His hands caressed her from their position on her shoulder blade and near her waist so each hand was holding a bottom cheek. He bent his knees very slightly, then straightened them again. This time it was Elle who released a long, pleasured moan from her lips and her eyes now lost focus. Their lips reattached themselves to each other, her hands were now high on him, her right in his hair, the left stroking his right shoulder and going up his neck, eventually also finding hair. Another bend and stretch of the knees and all pretence was wasted.
"Oh, God" she whispered. Her tongue stroked the side of his face as his body moved again. This was wonderful. Her pelvic floor muscles tightened as he did his slow knee bend at the same time.
He let out a huge "aaahh" as his push was restricted by her inner walls. "Elle?" Her name but it was not in conjunction with a sigh, it was a question. She wrapped both her arms around his neck as he took a step forward and her back found the cold tiles. Lifting her left leg up against his right hip he helped her find the correct position and took her weight as her second foot left the floor and wrapped itself, along with it's partner, around his back. Her legs tightened, along with her pelvic floor muscles this time. Sherlock bent his knees again and straightened.
This time there was an "ooo" from her. She tilted her pelvis upward slightly and her mouth and eyes both opened wide as her body tightened around him under his control. Sherlock's hands moved, sliding from her bottom to under her thighs, taking some of her body weight on his arms. Locking his mouth on hers, he began slow and steady thrusts. With him now holding her weight on his arms, she moved her legs so they were down across his pert bottom cheeks. Flexing at the knee she was pulling him into her, trying to dictate a more aggressive rhythm and speed. The time for slow and sensual had passed them by, now she wanted him raw, hard and fast.
Still kissing, hungering after each other's lips whenever they parted, however briefly, he followed the pattern she was encouraging. As his legs then full body started to shake, short shallower thrusts manifolded into pushes and squeezes from both of them as they reached orgasm simultaneously.
For what she believed was the first time in their love life together, Elle had just the one orgasm, but it had been incredibly powerful. Their bodies had been so attuned together: she had got close as he had, calmed when he did, and came as he did, synchronised to the point where she could feel only one heart pounding, their beats identical, chests pressed together. Her legs relaxed, her feet touched ground and the pair of them just stood, still in the tightest of embraces as the shower poured hot water over them.
Finally the embrace separated and Sherlock moved to lean against the wall of the shower, his heart still pumping heavily in his chest. Elle looked up at him but he rolled along the wall facing away from her. Her hand ran down his back tracing the line of his spine.
"Sherlock, are you all right?"
"I'm fine, really. Would you pass the shampoo please. We need to start getting ready if we are spending the weekend with Mary and John." Rubbing shampoo in his hair he lathered then passed the bottle back over to Elle who did the same. He reached and grabbed the same bottle again as Elle put conditioner through her locks. He rinsed immediately. It seemed his thoughts were distracted as he had meant to condition too. Body wash and conditioner - the right bottle this time - quickly and out of the shower before she had finished rinsing off the body wash, Sherlock positively galloped out of the bathroom into the bedroom to dry and dress.
Elle walked into the bedroom in some trepidation. Sherlock was sitting on the edge of the bed, trousers on but not fastened yet, still shirtless, with his damp head in his hands. "What is the matter, Sherlock? Please tell me. Is there something wrong?"
"No. I am just being an idiot. I am... I have just had an epiphany. I realise now how much I want you in my life. Elle, move in with me. Permanently. Here, at Baker Street. I am sure we can come to some arrangement with your house mates to keep your room for when we want it, but I want you here, with me, always, as your main residence."
"I am living nearly permanently with you now, but don't you think this is a bit early for us to be making such a commitment? We have not known each other four months yet."
"I know. Just be grateful. I nearly asked you something else even more committed instead, but I thought that really would be overstepping the mark a little early."
"You are not serious?"
"Deadly. Elle, I want you as permanently in my life as much as I want to live here at Baker Street, want John as my best friend, want, or should I say have Mycroft as a brother. You've changed my outlook on life. I actually like myself, others seem to as well. It's down to you. I cannot consider my life without you."
She looked at him and surveyed the man she thought she was starting to know. He looked shattered. Is this the influence she had on him? Perhaps they were already spending too much time together? She knelt in front of him and put her arms around him. Her embrace was returned. If she had not known better she may have believed he could be crying. Maybe he had something in his eye.
"The house is mine. Don't worry about those sorts of arrangements. Put all this on a back burner Sherlock. I need to think about it. May I give you an answer when we return here on Tuesday? It is a big decision. I don't want to rush into it."
"Of course... Should we even bother to pack pyjamas?" He smiled, and she relaxed.
"We had better. If our track record with John and Mary stays consistent we will probably wear them more than anything else."
"Good point. Taking your negligee?"
"I don't think I need to. I am taking my satin robe though."
"Take your negligee." This was no longer a question. She nodded. Sherlock picked a pale green shirt from his wardrobe, fastened the five lower buttons, and tucked it into his black jeans. A black and grey v-necked cotton jumper over the top and he was ready, left the bedroom and checked he had everything packed he needed.
Ten minutes later Elle came out of the room. She had cane plaited her wet hair, added a little mascara, brow liner and neutral lip gloss, put on the brand new t-shirt and jeans she got for her birthday from her friends, and came out of Sherlock's bedroom wheeling her overnight case, and carrying her tote. Sherlock glanced at her. There was so much love in his eyes. Alongside his bag was a strong plastic carrier. "A few bottles" he clarified, then "sorry".
Grabbing their waterproof coats, and scarves just in case, they went downstairs. One good thing about Baker Street, you don't need to ring for a taxi, cabs were passing by all the time. Sherlock flagged one down, grabbed three of the bags and Elle climbed in first with her tote as Sherlock passed the bags to her and alighted himself whilst giving the driver the address in Hampstead for John and Mary's residence.
For the first time in a long time Elle was more pleased to be in company with Sherlock than just with him alone. He seemed to be in a very emotive place at the moment and anything seemed possible: either him flying off the handle or even bursting into tears, she just did not know. Maybe this was what Mycroft had warned her about. However, as soon as they were with Mary and John he seemed to be the relaxed and amazing Sherlock she was so certain she was in love with.
Bottles gifted, greetings exchanged and four large mugs of coffee between them the friends all went and sat out on the patio, enjoying the sun trap that was John and Mary's back garden. Pleasantly sheltered and surprisingly private, the patio housed a grey wicker and glass round table and umbrella, with four matching chairs. They ate a light dinner out there, then Mary surprised them with a homemade cake for Elle's birthday, with a single candle in it.
"Sorry it is not decorated. It is only a lemon drizzle cake but I thought it would be something nice so we could formally celebrate your birthday together, belatedly I know." Elle blew out the candle, feeling silly, and blushing slightly. The other three all smiled at one another.
"It is lovely Mary, thank you. Lemon drizzle is always my backstop where cakes are concerned. I am not a fan of butter cream or tonnes of icing anyway and much prefer something with a bit of tang to it. Thank you also for my lovely birthday presents. I know Sherlock has said a thank you to John on my behalf. They were wonderful. The negligee is exquisite." After a slice of cake each had been eaten and enjoyed, the girls started to wander around the garden together, arm in arm, leaving the boys to talk at the table.
"So pleased you liked the negligee. It seems cheeky your birthday presents are as much for Sherlock as they are for you."
"I still reap the reward" she said smiling. "So long as you reciprocate for his birthday, whenever it is. God, I don't know. How awful is that?"
"I don't know either."
"Perhaps he was not born, rather hewn from a piece of marble. It is strange. I am going to meet his parents in a couple of weeks and I really still know very little about him. Mary, he has asked me to move in with him. Properly. Permanently." She felt she needed to confide in someone. Her timing was perfect: the girls were about as far away from the patio as the garden allowed so Sherlock and John were unlikely to have seen the surprised look that traced across Mary's face at these words.
"And what have you said?" asked Mary, looking slightly surprised but not even vaguely concerned.
"I said I need time to think about it. I feel it might all be happening too suddenly. Our whole relationship has been like a runaway train: exhilarating and exciting, yes, but I feel any moment we could hit a bump that could derail us completely. It has been a long time since I was 'going steady' with anyone, and to Sherlock I think the whole experience is new, and I just feel something is bound to go wrong."
"Not necessarily. Look at John and me. We trawled through ridiculous work hours, me listening to him talk endlessly about his best friend who had died. How big a derailment could you expect other than that friend coming back to life? I went to Sherlock's graveside Elle. I stood arm in arm with John and we cried together. I picked up the broken pieces of John, brushed them down and wished desperately to have known this wonderful friend of his who had meant so much to him and, in no exaggerated terms, saved his life - John was incredibly depressed before he met Sherlock, you know, after leaving Afghanistan. Then suddenly, Sherlock turned up, alive and kicking, at a restaurant pretending to be a waiter."
She took a deep breath. "John mourned him. I mourned him and did not even know him. Then he was there again. I thought it would ruin our relationship, but it didn't. What it did do is give me a far greater man than the one I had initially fallen in love with because John sparks off Sherlock. They spark off each other - you said it weeks ago. Instead of fearing Sherlock would tear John away from me I found John all the better, and loved Sherlock as a result of it. I understood what John had said about him. Do not fear Sherlock. I have seen a beautiful change in him since you came along. I think you are perfect for one another. He may look like he was hewn from marble, but he is every bit flesh and blood, and he seriously loves you." Elle hugged Mary for being so open and honest. They walked back to the patio.
The evening air was starting to cool so the four friends headed indoors into a very bright lounge with a huge grey corner sofa and separate reclinable chair. Sherlock and Elle waited for the others to sit to see where they would naturally settle. It was Mary who sat curled up on the recliner, whereas John was on the sofa within touching distance of her chair. Elle sat roughly centrally on the settee, with Sherlock close next to her on the opposite side to John. It was lovely and relaxing being in the happiest of company again. All four of them now appreciating they bring out the best of one another.
Rubbing her eyes Elle realised she had been in mascara for over six hours; never a good thing when you are as sensitive as she is and only rarely wear make-up. She made her excuses to nip upstairs to remove the stuff, Mary taking her upstairs to show her which bedroom she and Sherlock would be sharing. Elle carried her overnight case and her tote with Mary bringing up Sherlock's bag to save him having to do so later. Mary led the way and opened the door to the spare room.
The room was substantial to say it was the spare. Painted in sun-kissed yellow, it had a warm and airy feel about it. All the accents in the room were cornflower blue and white, setting off the yellow tone of the room in general. A winged wicker chair sat in one corner, which was white with blue cushions, but the rest of the room consisted of natural pine furniture, a whitewashed pine floor, white sheets and pillow cases with a blue and yellow duvet cover and navy blue throw across the bottom of a pine double bed. The curtains were lined navy blue corduroy. The whole room was fresh and inviting.
"Can I come in?" asked Mary after showing Elle the room.
"Of course. What a lovely room Mary. What's on your mind?"
"I wanted to give the guys chance to talk and thought I would keep you company whilst you remove your make-up. It gives them some time, and us time without the boys."
Elle undid her case and lifted out her satin robe, pyjamas and negligee and laid them on the end of the bed, then pulled her wash bag out and found a couple of cotton wool pads and some blue eye make-up remover. She doused both pads then applied them to her eyes, dropping her head back and sighing deeply as the blue liquid cooled her eyes in a secondary role following mascara removal. No rubbing, just half a minute later she took the pads off her eyes and gently wiped across her lashes but all the mascara was on the pads now and no more product came away.
"That stuff looks impressive."
"It is. It is my desert island product. Not only is it fantastic at getting rid of mascara quickly and easily as you see, but it is so cooling and refreshing on the eyes I use it near enough daily for that pleasure even when I am not wearing make-up."
"My desert island product would probably be a lip treatment I use. Really refreshing also but it means I no longer get any chapping, whether I am changing environments, or if the weather is harsh. I see you have brought your negligee with you."
"As I said it is very beautiful. It feels so wonderful and sheer on the skin. I had not intended to bring it on this visit, but it was to fulfil a request."
Mary smiled. "I have one too. Mine is midnight blue and the star sequins on it are silver. I agree it feels lovely on the skin, not that I get that much wear out of it, bearing in mind the effect it has on John."
Elle returned the smile. "Same here with Sherlock. I unwrapped it and put it on, walked around the bedroom once and he insisted I took it off so he did not damage it. Whoever the designer is they have an incredible insight into what men really like on women, for sure."
"I would like to see you in yours. Do you fancy having some fun with the boys? I will go and put mine on over a dark pair of undies and we can go down together."
"OK. Wait a sec." Elle rummaged in her case and pulled out a fresh pair of black lace-edged undies and changed whilst she and Mary continued to talk. Fastening the tie, she stood in a 'ta-dah' pose, arms open, for her friend to admire the ensemble.
"Wow. I could fancy that myself. Come on, come with me into my room." Elle followed Mary into her's and John's bedroom. It was an impressive room not dissimilar to Elle's room at Kew in proportions. Painted in a pale apricot colour, with sapphire blue accents on the chairs, curtains and bed throw, with a kingsize bed sitting over a natural wood floor and dark apricot round rugs either side of the bed. John called upstairs to see if the girls wanted a drink. Mary settled on a Gin and Tonic again, after confirming they had Bitter Lemon in the fridge, Elle asked for Gin with that.
"What a lovely room too, it is a beautiful house Mary."
"Thank you. We love it. Especially this room and the fact it has an en suite shower room. Unfortunately the shower is only a generous square so it takes real skill, recently perfected, to get more than one of us in it. That reminds me of your carrot of the four of us in your shower at Kew together. Here, this is my negligee. What do you think?"
Mary began to change into her negligee. "What a wonderful colour. I do not wear blue at all. Even all my jeans are black or grey or summer colours, but that is lovely. We will have to have that trip to Kew soon. And wow to you too. That looks fabulous on."
"Thanks. Have you thought any more about Sherlock's proposition?"
"Yes. I think I am going to accept and move in with him. We can use Kew as a retreat if we want to get just a little way out of the City. Thank you for your advice and honesty. It must have been a terrible time for John."
"It was, but now things are nearly perfect. Oh, I am so pleased." Mary hugged Elle. Instantaneously four nipples took firmer shape and they both laughed. "Ready? Our drinks will be getting warm as well as our men if we stay up here much longer."
"Ready."
John and Sherlock were in deep conversation. They had so obviously been talking about them but changed the subject to work as soon as they heard the girls descending the stairs. John turned.
"Your drinks are... oh, shit!"
"What?" exclaimed Sherlock before turning, then "wow" his eyes suddenly looking like dinner plates in size, his mouth falling open.
"Well, Sherlock, you did suggest I brought it with me. There would be no point if I was not going to actually wear it." He stared longingly at Elle, then over to Mary, then to John, then back to Elle and Mary, both standing with a shaft of light from the hallway behind them. Again he looked at John. John had kicked off his shoes and was gathering his shirt and jumper up from behind his head to remove them. Sherlock smiled and copied his friend's actions.
Both men were now topless. John's body was creamier in colour than the marble white of his friend, but he had a well toned physique, albeit all on a smaller scale than Sherlock, standing six inches shorter than the lean detective. Muscular arms and trim waist highlighted the fact he had looked after himself well since leaving the Army.
The girls walked forwards and into the arms of their respective lover. Four pairs of lips were now engaged. Sherlock kissed so passionately Elle could feel herself going light-headed as though she lacked oxygen. Sherlock released her. "Bedroom?" he asked John who was still kissing Mary.
"Won't make it. Wall!" John started to walk Mary back to the wall of the lounge, holding her in one arm and unzipping his fly with the other. Sherlock watched, understood and moved Elle in the same way, also unzipping his jeans. His eyes stared deeply into Elle's as her shoulders met wall. He started kissing her again but then heard a noise from literally no more than a couple of metres away that confirmed his friend and wife were a lot further ahead in this than he was.
Pushing his lips tight against Elle's Sherlock's tongue slipped into her mouth as he removed himself from his trousers, crooked her undies to one side and pressed himself inside her. Released from the kiss both he and Elle groaned loudly as their bodies became one and the wall took much of the force of Sherlock's passion, Elle pinned between. Raw, animal, intense, her arms held up above her head Elle felt every nuance and thrust her lover was making.
Unsure why but as Elle went into orgasm, she felt him button off the power and calm himself. He had managed to take himself close, but because she could do little to aid his aims he was able to execute self-control and slowed down. Their lips released one another and she gazed into his eyes. He winked. Pulling away and making himself decent Sherlock turned and walked back into the centre of the room as he heard his friend cry out "Well, what did you think was going to happen then?"
"We hoped for a reaction John, but shit, I thought a bit of passionate fumbling would be about the top of it, leading to more upstairs possibly, not a hot shag against the living room wall. You guys have no restraint."
"With you, and her, appearing like that, the light behind you, I was never going to make it upstairs. You should have called us up rather than come down if that had been your intentions. I was so, I... oh Mary..."
Sherlock picked up his glass. He too was drinking Gin, but with tonic water, ice and a slice of lime, like Mary, knocking it back as if using it as a distraction. His lady walked over to the table and picked up the still full glass laden with ice and a slice of lime too but distinctly bitter lemon in colour.
"Oh my goodness, Sherlock, we will have to visit our friends more often." He smiled and sat down where he had been less than ten minutes ago, talking to John, not realising they were about to be ambushed by the two negligee-clad women concealing, well, nothing actually, including their sexual desire.
"You look lovely girls" Sherlock added, finishing the end of his Gin. John had slumped on the sofa.
"We guessed as much" responded Mary. "Glad you like these" she said holding out the hem of her negligee.
"'Like' doesn't come into it. You both look amazing. Come here Elle." Elle walked over and sat next to him again. He played with her plaited hair then kissed her. "Are you ok?" She nodded and smiled. He was forever the gentleman, checking she was all right whenever sex had been even vaguely brutal.
"I think we need to take this upstairs. Fancy an early night?" Sherlock now nodded and smiled, his eyes dilating as his brain roared into activity thinking about what was about to transpire. "So, do you two want to join us, us join you or shall we go it alone?" Elle was looking at Mary and John.
"You two are going again? I don't think I can. Jeez, Sherlock, you are some lover." John seemed resigned to sitting this one out.
"Indefatigable I think is the word you are looking for" Elle helped. "It is well gone 11. For most people that is far from an early night anyway. Coming?"
"No thanks" sighed Mary. "You two go ahead. We will see you tomorrow morning, around 10? The family bathroom is free for you as we have an en suite. Good night." They all said their good nights and the married pair curled up on the sofa together, John stroking his wife through her negligee, as their friends climbed the stairs.
Elle was first in the bathroom, having already found her wash bag earlier in the evening. Sherlock still had to unpack all his toiletries and gear. Both of them had a quick refreshing shower, then brushed their teeth, meeting in the bedroom, Elle lying under a sheet, her negligee hanging on the back of the bedroom door.
"You and Mary both looked lovely in those" Sherlock stated as he put his blue silk gown on the same peg.
"Thank you. You look lovely without anything. Bernini would be proud."
"Bernini? Who is Bernini?"
"Surely you have heard of Gian Lorenz Bernini - the Italian marble sculptor. You look like one of his masterpieces come to life. Sherlock... oh God." Elle closed her eyes pushing her head hard into the pillow. She felt Sherlock's weight join her on the bed.
"Hey, wait for me" he whispered. She opened her eyes, smiled, rolled to her side, kissed his lips, then let her tongue traverse down his neck, visiting her favourite mole, then on to his collarbone, nipples, bullet wound, navel. She looked up for his eyes, reminiscent of the first time she did this at Kew, but this time they were there to catch hers. A soft smile of acceptance crossed his slightly parted lips, as she used hers to take his cock into her mouth. They both released an audible gasp, hers slightly muffled. Catching his eye again Elle slipped her hand under his rear and rolled him, first on to one hip, but she kept the momentum going so he was now lying on his front, immediately taking his weight on his arms and straddling his legs either side of her. Her hands gripped his hips and she dictated his moves.
He was reluctant at first to stay in this position, but she made it feel so sensual he could not bring himself to immediately force a change. He was even more trepidatious about moving as she wanted him to, but again control was not really his own, and he started, very gently, to exaggerate the hip movements she was creating for him. He felt his mouth dry and eyes roll into the back of his head. This was never going to last very long, it all becoming too much. Bending his left elbow, and crossing his right leg away from her he let his arm, shoulder and finally back re-find the bed, Elle rolling with him.
She had no intention of letting go and took him deeply again, but he was going to call this one, and pulled her off him and back up the bed, re-moving on to his side to stroke and kiss her body, lingering familiarly around her breasts. He was going to go down on her but the expulsion of air from her mouth told him her desires and he let his hand investigate the rest of her. Sliding two fingers inside her he felt the heat of her whole body temperature rise. She was swollen, damp, responsive, ready. His eyes searched for hers but they were closed. He kissed her softly, then pushed himself between her folds and inside her. Now he could move.
Long progressive moves kept her gasping and wanting more of him. Her hands were around his shoulders, no, moved to grip his bum cheeks, no, across his back, into his hair, in the meantime she seemed to be exploring his mouth with her tongue. She plucked his lower lip in between hers, guarding her teeth having bitten him previously, and sucked gently. Her mouth went slack, her hands released his head and dropped open on the bed. Her thighs tightened around his, and her glutes clenched, along with her internal walls, so intensely he thought he would no longer be able to move at all, but he was wrong. Every nerve of his own body was telling him to push, and push like hell. Hanging his head, dripping with sweat, seven, eight, nine, ten deep thrusts and his own body went into a detonation sequence of shakes and shudders as he too was engulfed by orgasm.
Cuddling, kissing occasionally, stroking softly, their bodies continued to stimulate the other for a further twenty minutes. They did not speak, just communicated with tiny gestures sensitising the skin, feeding off the touch, recounting the pleasure in their minds. One salubriously wet kiss later and Sherlock was heading out of the bed into the bathroom. Elle heard him shower and then heard the tap. He had gone out of the bedroom in his robe but came back into the room with a bitter chocolate brown-coloured towel slung low on his hips, his navel and hair line protruding above the top of the towel, same colour, just darker. With sparkles of water still on his torso he stood in the room looking like one of Bernini's finest.
"Damn you Sherlock."
"What is the matter? What did I do? I thought you enjoyed it."
"No, not that! Have you looked in a mirror recently? You are the embodiment of male sexuality. I'm never going to feel clean." Her body temperature was climbing yet again.
"Go and have a cool shower, then you will."
"Yes, but I cannot wash that vision out of my head. You are so very beautiful. You really do not understand what it is you do to me do you?"
"No. I mean, yes, I mean. Why is this so complicated?"
"You know that feeling you and John both had when Mary and I came downstairs in our negligees?"
"Ooh, yeah!"
"Well, that is how I am feeling right now, seeing you standing there with your body glistening and your towel, and..." He walked towards her, smiling contentedly.
"And you want me." It was not a question from him, he was just finishing off her sentence, staring at her wide dilated eyes.
"And I want you" she confirmed.
"Then you can have me. Go and freshen up, and if you still feel the same way, I am yours, remember?"
Elle climbed out of bed, rinsed her mouth and showered, re-plaiting her dampened hair and tying the end off with a covered band, still returning in just under nine minutes. Wrapped in a towel under her arms herself she walked back into the bedroom. "It is no good, Sherlock. Even after a cool shower I still want..." She looked across to the bed, having been purposefully averting her eyes to give herself as long a time as possible to calm down.
Sherlock was sitting up in the bed, reading as ever. He looked nearly innocent but the temperature in her was so high she could not resist. With the duvet thrown off because of the warmth she could see through the outline under the sheet he was already slightly aroused. She did not towel down, just wrapped herself in her satin robe, tying the outer belt and trying to make herself feel cooler and more serene. British weather. All in what seemed like a heartbeat the evening temperatures had changed from chilly to quite sultry. Sherlock looked up at her and smiled. Her robe was clinging to every curvaceous line of her body.
"Do you still want me?"
"Yes" she whispered.
"Good job because I want you. Come here." She started undoing her belt but he beckoned her over and stopped her, licking the last vestiges of water droplets off her breasts. "You had better get in here. I have something for you."
Looking inquisitively Elle took off her robe, dropped it to the floor by the bed and climbed in under the sheet, Sherlock guiding her hand immediately down the bed to touch the cock ring he was wearing.
"You are flirting with danger. You know how I am feeling already and yet you spring this on me. What am I going to do with you?"
"Anything you like. I will do whatever you want. Set me a task. Make love to me Elle."
"Don't you mean with you?"
"No, to me. I want you to do whatever you want or need to. Pleasure yourself using me." His voice sounded as smooth as honey. His eyes closed and most of his body relaxed into the bed. Keeping herself on her side, she went down the bed, where her hand then her mouth found the only non-human component on Sherlock's body. With the tip of her tongue she licked around the ring, then up his shaft taking the head into her mouth, playing with his foreskin with her lips. A long sigh expired from her lover. Rotating wrist action, moist lips, continuous penetration into her mouth then throat, she was playing him like a virtuoso.
She relinquished her oral hold on him and searched for his eyes. They were wide open. As she stared into them, she took his hand and guided it to touch her clitoris. Even though she was expediting the move her body still shocked to his touch. She closed her lips onto his then pressed her tongue into his mouth. Using his hand still in hers she rolled the pair of them so he was now on top of her. Releasing his hand she guided his body inside her, moving both her hands to take tight hold of his bum cheeks and push him into her.
As her muscles went into spasm she felt him take his own weight on his arms. "Got me where you want me?" he asked teasingly.
"Right place, but I want more" she breathed in reply.
"Oh. Like this?" He thrusted, she gasped, then nodded. He thrusted some more, she gasped again, sliding her legs up his and wrapping her thighs around his hips. He put his hand underneath her backside, tilting her slightly towards him, then began to really take the control of the rhythm.
Over half and hour later everything was calm again in their bed. They had given and taken everything, shared many highs, finally for their heartbeats to start to find normality again, their bodies parting, and the ring removed. Elle concluded she did like that thing. It did not directly effect either of them significantly, but just having Sherlock wear it, and the fact they both knew he was, spurred on their fun and games. Elle curled up behind Sherlock as they relaxed, talking generally, eventually falling asleep, her head against the back of his shoulder.
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