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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
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Voices downstairs, the smell of coffee and bacon in the air, it must be breakfast time. Sherlock was the first to emerge from the bed, sighing and replete, kissing and withdrawing from his lover, heading into the bathroom, returning in his robe (he remembered the effect just a towel had last night) towel drying his hair. A further gentle kiss on the lips as the lovers passed one another, he aiming for his clothes, her the bathroom.
Elle arrived dressed, flushed, dry hair still in a plait, downstairs as John was pouring out some orange juice. "Bottled only, I'm afraid, we don't have any fresh oranges in the house unfortunately." Juice, bacon butties and coffee were all eagerly consumed before a quiet walk, in warm Spring weather finally, through some of Hampstead Heath, one of "London's lungs" as John had referred to it.
There seemed to be a lot of people about but everyone was relaxed and enjoying some warm spring sunshine. John and Sherlock seemed fascinated to see how the relationship had developed between their two ladies. As the path had meandered John and Sherlock had hung back slightly leaving the girls to walk ahead of them. They had automatically linked arms and were like two peas in a pod, talking and laughing, glancing around occasionally to see whether the boys were still in tow. Elle would count Mary as one of her closest friends now.
John and Sherlock's talk drifted to their most recent case. It all seemed so demoralisingly and unnecessarily complicated to John, then Sherlock would just break down his observations and analysis and there was the full picture in front of the doctor, as though he was standing back at the scene. He envied Sherlock's ability but knew, until recently, how he used to be so tortured when his brain was not fully engaged in deduction. Now, the smile of a woman, one particular woman, melted his heart and the torment he would suffer so badly, alleviated.
He too liked this new Sherlock. When at work Sherlock was no different, other than avoiding being engaged in conversation about who his girlfriend is. Other than occasionally with Greg, Sherlock did not talk about Elle to any of the people he was working alongside, with the exception, of course, of John. Sergeant Sally Donovan and co. seemed a little more relaxed around Sherlock; she had stopped calling him 'the freak' and 'psychopath' now, at least to his face.
Returning to John and Mary's the four sat down with cold drinks - two lagers, an orange juice for Mary and water with a lot of ice in it for Elle - as they sat and relaxed and talked and laughed. Elle closed her eyes momentarily whilst sitting with her head leaning on the back of the sofa. A smile grew across her face totally unconsciously.
"Look at that face of guilty pleasure" said John. Mary and Sherlock acknowledged as Elle opened her eyes to realise they were all staring at her.
"What? Can I not just sit and think now?"
"No. Not with a smile like that on your face. Where were your thoughts? In your jeans?"
"No Sherlock, in yours. [There was a sight John and Mary had not seen before: the porcelain white face of Sherlock Holmes blush.] Well, you did ask!"
"I have something for you upstairs, if you want it?"
"Oh. Is it animal, mineral or vegetable?"
"Definitely animal."
"Sounds like you are playing 20 questions. Can we join in?"
"Of course John" laughed Sherlock. The two men smiled at one another for what seemed no reason at all to Elle.
Sherlock led Elle upstairs by the hand, his lager drained, her iced water going up with them. They sat on the bed together, kissing, stroking one another. Her face lit with another smile, which Sherlock returned. "I think I need to go to the bathroom" Elle stated breathlessly. "Should I take my robe or my negligee to change into?"
"I think the negligee would be more appropriate. OK with you if I just change into just wearing bed sheets? I don't think I will be needing anything else."
"If it is good enough for the Palace it is good enough for me. See you in a few minutes." Elle laughed, then disappeared into the bathroom. Firstly she splashed her face and towelled dry before removing her clothes - all of them - and just put on the negligee. Making sure her plait was still intact in the mirror she noticed a muscle jumping in her throat. Just the thought of him waiting for her in there was sending waves of pleasure over her physique. She blew air through her lips, trying to calm herself, trying not to feel desperate for him. 'Relax' she instructed her reflection.
Out of the bright bathroom, she headed back into her's and Sherlock's room to find it very dark. The curtains were drawn. Her eyes took a little time to adjust to the lack of light. She looked towards the bed to see her lover. The sight shocked, stimulated and surprised her. "What on Earth?"
John and Mary had joined Sherlock in their bed. All were leaning back, obviously naked, on slightly tilted pillows, their eyes all looking towards her. The woman in the middle spoke. "Please join us Elle. We all want to make love to you." Elle was stunned. She looked at each of their faces: Sherlock's was one of love but longing; Mary's of high anticipation and John's excitement and apprehension. Immediately cogs were whirring inside her head. Sherlock was going to have to be last on her agenda so she walked around the bed, dropped her negligee and slipped under the sheet next to John, leaning over and kissing him more fully than they had shared previously. John took her lovingly in his arms, stroking her face, then rolled on top of her, rubbing himself against her. Her sensory overkill started, feeling such a very different naked man so close, with his wife and Sherlock alongside, watching.
John's hand found one of Elle's breasts and he lowered his head and frame down the bed so he could kiss it. A groan broke the silence, but it was not from either of the participants: the man on the far side unable to hide a momentary hint of envy of his friend. John returned to kissing her lips. As their kissing and cuddling concluded John lifted himself and moved to the other side of Elle, leaving her between him and Mary, him still stroking her.
Elle pressed her head into the pillows, took a deep breath and sighed as she let her eyes close. She felt lips from her left kiss her cheek, John; then another kiss in a similar place but to the right, just fractionally later. Mary. Her body warmed through and she could feel it quiver as her lips were starting to yearn to touch another pair, any pair. John kissed her mouth. Then a long, soft kiss came. Mary again. It was delicate and sensual and suddenly, hugely erotic. The thought of John and Sherlock lying either side watching stimulated her greatly. She opened her eyes, stared into the dark blue pools of Mary's, put her hands on Mary's face, into her short blonde hair and kissed her even more provocatively than ever.
Soft moans from either side confirmed that the two watchers were enjoying this as much as the incumbents, possibly even more so. Kisses returned to her cheeks again, still from different sides. Elle suddenly felt a multitude of hands touching her. One stroking her inner thigh, a second touching her tummy above the navel, a third on her right breast, a fourth caressing her face and plait, and a fifth, demanding her attention, sliding gently up and down her scar. "Sherlock" she thought, not realising initially she had actually said it aloud.
She opened her eyes and looked again into Mary's, who smiled at her then started to move away as she and Sherlock swapped places. Mary was now on Sherlock's outside, with Elle between the two boys. Both men kissed a breast each at the same time, suckling on her. John to her left, ran the back of his hand along the contour of her torso and hip, down the outside of her thigh then back; Sherlock was lying on his left side stroking her tummy with his right hand. He kissed her so delicately, almost a peck, warming every inch of her form by his touch, as he lowered his lips to near her right ear. "Close your eyes. Tell me what you want."
"I want you. I want... all of you." Her eyes now closed for the duration of whatever was going to happen, her face rolled away from his and her lips were immediately collected by John's. He kissed, softly first then harder, then deeper still. She was loving his touch, she was so sensitised by his distraction. She then felt a soft hand stroke her right cheek. Mary. She turned her head and kissed her, wondering where Sherlock was, just as she felt her hips being lifted, her bottom on his thighs, and part of him slide purposefully inside her. It took all her strength to keep her eyes closed. John and Mary were both taking it in turns kissing her, whilst Sherlock's moves were lower, slower and deliberate. She wondered whether either of the outsiders were kissing him. She hoped so.
Hands were stroking her breasts then down her tummy. It was feeling as though her whole body was aflame. Then two fingers, from different hands, both touched her labia, then swollen clitoris. Too much! Groaning, her head pressed deeper into the pillow, her back arched upwards, her eyes opened and her whole body trembled and contracted in orgasm. Although not focused she noticed Sherlock was leaning back leaving space for the other two to play their delightfully wicked touching game. However, as Elle had gone into spasm, she heard one word, "Move", from a velveteen baritone she loved so much. John and Mary relinquished their control of Elle's body as Sherlock's full weight descended against her. She immediately locked her legs against his thighs. Now she had Sherlock where she wanted him and no intention of releasing him until she wanted to. Her right hand settled in the middle of his shoulders. He started to rhythmically move.
Mary and John were still there: kissing her, stroking her and, yes, stroking and kissing Sherlock too. Elle opened her eyes and stared into Mary's. "Join me" she moaned. With those words Mary slipped out of bed, walking around to her husband the other side and climbed back in, the pair of them becoming one very quickly. Elle grabbed Mary's hand and the girls, both under their guys, kissed each other again. Sherlock then kissed both girls, John followed and then Elle felt a powerful but sensual kiss which told her she now had Sherlock's full attention. The four bodies writhed together, and soft sighs and mutterings increased from all involved and became much more vocal and intense. The girls' hands remained clasped together.
At this moment Elle was no longer certain what day it was, what century, or even what planet she was on. Her sensory overload was complete. Regardless of what John had said a few passioned weeks earlier, this felt like one long orgasm. Her whole body was in spasm, the intensity was higher than she had previously known and so totally lacking any control. She was contracting muscles even she didn't know she had, followed by releases that felt as explosive as a cannonball leaving its barrel, then contraction again. The pelvic floor muscles seemed to be trying to expel Sherlock from within her, he being all the more determined to stay with her as long as he could, though he surmised duration was going to be limited thanks to all the additional stimulation.
A shockwave from the other half of the bed told one story clearly. The Watsons had reached their zenith: powerfully, and together, both now totally still and exhausted. Mary squeezed Elle's hand, which she returned, the complete experience transmitted from one pair to the other through the grasp of the girls. Elle slipped the fingers of her free hand into the dampened hair of her lover as she tried to take even more of him into her through their kissing. Tensioning from his toes upwards Sherlock's physique stiffened as if dipped into liquid nitrogen, every sinew, tendon and muscle as rigid as steel, some gargantuan thrusts, and a shudder and he released an inordinately deep groan as every cell of him crumpled, her legs tightening even more so around her captive.
The girls released their hands after a squeeze from Elle had transmitted Sherlock's and her finality.
Air appeared to be a rare commodity as all four of them were gasping for it as though there was a finite amount available. Sherlock and Elle rolled so she was on her right side, eyes wide open staring into his. His expression suddenly changed, his eyes closed and she felt him start to tense again. Holding him as close and tight as is possible when on your side Elle wrapped her arms and legs back around him as his body shook once more. "Holy shit." Sherlock rolled off his lady, she rolled away too, now all four of them were lying with their heads on the pillows, on their backs, shoulder to shoulder, looking towards the ceiling.
The next words heard were also from Sherlock. "I need another shower." He sat up and left the bed. Elle followed, as did John and Mary, slightly behind. All four of them in the bathroom, Sherlock under the water, Elle joined him, helped him wash down his back and as he stepped out and Mary handed him a clean towel, John joined Elle. Keeping her still plaited hair as dry as possible Elle soaped and rinsed with a little help on her back from John, stepped out and Mary gave her a towel then went in the shower herself. They all felt so confident and free with one another's nudity now. They had shared too much to have any embarrassment left, thinking back to John borrowing Elle's robe because he would not walk out of a darkened room without cover, now in daylight he quite happily helped her shower.
Finally the two pairs parted company. Elle went into her's and Sherlock's room to discover in the few minutes Mary and John had been behind them getting to the bathroom they had refreshed their bed linen with clean cotton sheets.
The lovers cuddled up to one another, finishing her water between them; Sherlock's head on a towel over his pillow as his hair was still quite damp. "Was it you who came up with that idea? For you all to gang up on me?"
"John and I were talking whilst on our way to a crime scene recently, generally talking about Mary and you, and I planted the idea of he and Mary 'helping' me make love to you. I did not know how, but John said he would talk to Mary. If she agreed she would let me know by mentioning your birthday. When the cake with the candle came out yesterday, I knew they were up for it."
"Yet you still made love to me earlier, this morning."
"Never one to miss an opportunity..." He smiled and winked. "I didn't know whether it was going to be this afternoon or later tonight or tomorrow. Did you enjoy it?"
"Yes. It was incredible. When all your hands were on me, I did not know where I was. It was like an out-of-body experience though, at the time, in my body was the only place in the world I wanted to be."
"Yet you were still able to distinguish my touch from John and Mary's?"
"You all touch so differently." Sherlock looked quizzically for an explanation. "Mary has soft, small, very obviously female hands, she is caressive, her touch on me is gentle and just slightly nervous. John's hands are professional, softer than you would expect, but still masculine. There is nothing exploratory though about his touch, as he has touched so many bodies before..."
"Not like he was touching you I hope, or he would get struck off! And me?"
"Yours is a lover's touch. Your hands are the least soft, but obviously feel more at home on my body than theirs so it is evidently more affectionate, more confident yet less tender. I did not feel there was any trepidation in your fingers. They knew where they were and what they were doing. You have long fingers, Sherlock."
"Come on then, prove your theory, which hands were which?"
"John was touching my breast and thigh; Mary my high tummy area and stroking my face. Yours was the hand preoccupied with my scar."
"Five out of five, well done. Do you enjoy kissing Mary?"
"Yes. It is so far out of my comfort zone. I could not consider it without you and John here, but when we are together it is just another facet to our love lives. Weird. I would never have believed I could be comfortable kissing another woman. It sounded as though you and John both enjoyed me kissing Mary?"
"Yes. We both did. Glad you invited them to join in. I could see a new side of John watching you two. Talking of John - did you like kissing him?"
"Yes also. We had previously only pecked before, but I enjoyed kissing him properly. Again, so different to you."
"At one point they both touched you very intimately..."
"I know. A shockwave coursed through me, but it was incredibly sensual and erotic and, by then, I did not care who was touching me or where, I was just enjoying it."
"John got on top of you. You must have felt... Would you let John make love to you?"
"I felt him naked and enjoyed having him against me. You mean full sex?" Sherlock nodded. "No. I have grown to love him as I have Mary but I couldn't make love to him. That would be wrong on so many fronts." Sherlock smiled. "You seem pleased or maybe relieved with my answer?"
"I didn't think you would, even if he was willing, which I doubt. He is married after all. You seem more comfortable in Mary's clutches than John's."
"I am to be honest. It would feel immediately adulterous with John, even with Mary participating, silly it should feel less so groping another woman. That would still be infidelity. I would not want you to make love to Mary, so I couldn't expect it the other way, even if I am the outsider in the group."
"I think it is fair to say you are no longer thought of as an outsider Elle. I think things have transpired between us two, and the four of us together, to more than prove that. Thought any more on my proposal?" Sherlock bit his own lip, remembering he had said he would wait until the long weekend was over, and this was only just over 24 hours later, but he blurted out the question as he wanted to know whether she had at least been thinking about it. He braced himself for a negative or procrastinate answer.
"Yes. I will move in with you Sherlock. I will talk to the girls when we see them face to face at Kew before we head out to your parents for the Spring Bank Holiday." He kissed her deeply and the most perfect of his perfect smiles burst across his face. He kissed her again, smiled and winked and started kissing and caressing her neck and breasts. "Hey! Don't you think we need to go downstairs? I smell dinner."
"I think we need to celebrate."
"Just hold and cuddle me. I am still too fired up from before as you all picked on me. You really are indefatigable."
"OK. But I have to say, you owe me one." Sherlock took a deep breath. A question was on his mind and this seemed as good a time as any to ask it. "Elle, how many lovers have you had?"
"That is a little personal, isn't it?"
"I know. I was just curious. Sorry."
"You are my fourth, if you must know."
After a short cuddle Elle rolled away from a slightly shocked Sherlock, initially intent on dressing, but decided to just put her pyjamas and robe on. Sherlock sat up, stretched and did the same.
"When I was lying back with my eyes closed and you moved in on me, were John and Mary kissing you too?"
"A little. We shared a few kisses, especially Mary and me, but John and I were transfixed watching you two. It's very weird."
"You don't seem to have any... what word do I need?.. any compunction making love to me in front of them. Do you feel any?"
"No. I find it difficult to explain why. I guess we have spent too much time naked, the four of us together, that I feel no shame or embarrassment. It might be different if they were solely watching us, but as they are usually involved with each other I am less bothered than perhaps I ought to be."
"What about when they pulled the strings, puppeteering us? John seemed adamant the root of that particular fantasy was to watch you."
"Us. That was a bit more strange, but it didn't last long. They got too hot too quickly to matter. He enjoyed his fantasy! Do you have a naughty fantasy you would like to fulfil?"
Hesitating she replied "I... I would love to give both you and John a hand job at the same time [she smiled at him, admiring his second slightly shocked expression]. What do you think about the prospect of reversing the puppeteering experiment? Turning the tables on them, and cranking it up a notch in the process?"
"I'm interested. How?"
"We plan the same thing with them in the middle, as they like our fantasies and say we have improved their sex lives, but I was thinking I would control John and you Mary."
"Now that does sound intriguing. That way I could learn exactly what you want by what you make John do. When?"
"Tomorrow perhaps, if they're up for it."
A very powerful and alluring smell emanated upstairs as Elle and Sherlock left their room and headed back down. Joining their friends downstairs they saw John and Mary had chosen nightwear for the rest of the evening as well unsurprisingly.
Mary was boiling new potatoes. The strong smell was cloves of garlic in the water with them. She walked into the lounge carrying a frying pan and asked "How do you two like your steak?"
"Ooo, lovely. Rare for me please Mary" Sherlock replied.
"That is two rare and one medium rare then. Elle?"
"I'd better come and help you with mine" smiled Elle. "I like mine still mooing!" She walked across to help Mary in the kitchen. Mary laughed. John followed the pair in there, Sherlock finally joining them making sure he was still in hearing distance of any conversation.
"Wow Elle. You must like your meat nearly raw then. Maybe you were a vampire in a former life? You seem to enjoy eating Sherlock!" These words had escaped John's lips before he had thought what he was saying. His eyes glazed. "Oh God, I am so sorry." In that snap moment his brain had taken him back to when he walked in on them at Baker Street with Elle half way down the bed.
"A vampire in a former life? I doubt it. I would still be a vampire then wouldn't I? And don't ever apologise for the truth John. I do take a great deal of pleasure eating Sherlock." She winked.
John's eyes finally braved looking towards his best friend. He saw there was a dismissive smirk on Sherlock's face; an eyebrow slightly raised but nothing to convey he was either embarrassed or angry at his friend's remark. Mary's face, on the other hand, looked shocked and livid.
With Elle near the hob with Mary, John asked what people would like to drink with their steak and crushed garlic potatoes. Sherlock, leaning in the doorway, reminded John of the bottles of bubbly he had brought. Normal wine glasses were swapped for flutes and Italian sparkling wine it was, which was very complimentary, surprisingly, to the steak, crushed garlic potatoes and fresh green beans. It was also guaranteed to go with dessert, fresh strawberries with cream, grown in Cornwall: the first British outdoor-grown strawberries of the season. Sherlock explained he and Elle had strawberries for lunch on her birthday, but did not go into any further detail, though a tell-tale smile between them made the others realise there must have been more to that lunch than just fruit.
All the steaks were perfectly cooked. Mary's was the medium rare, John and Sherlock had rare, and Elle's was blue, almost still mooing. With the garlic potatoes and green beans it was a perfect combination without being too heavy. A small bowl of strawberries with a little cream finished the meal, before the men made their way into the lounge as Elle helped Mary tidy up and put the coffee maker through its paces and brought a box of chocolate thins to conclude their dinner.
The meal had been delicious and, although the atmosphere did not seem as friendly as it usually was, everyone seemed to be quite amiable. John and Sherlock were talking in the lounge waiting for the coffee and the girls. "That was lovely. You are right John, Elle does like her meat incredibly rare."
This comment gave John the opportunity to apologise directly to Sherlock privately about his quip, but Sherlock laughed it off, saying he had been surprised he had not said anything to him before now, having walked in on him and Elle obviously mid-blow job. His friend looked relieved.
To lighten the mood generally John suggested they watched a film together. After much discussion, Sherlock being openly surprised by Elle's in-depth knowledge of most things blockbuster she, Mary and John agreed on 'Raiders of the Lost Ark' with poor Indiana Jones yet again having to fight off the Nazis. Mary sat separately in the recliner whilst John rested on the settee near his wife. Elle snuggled up to Sherlock further along the settee, and afterwards, Sherlock said he had thoroughly enjoyed the movie, having never seen it before. Elle confessed to having seen it a number of times on video then DVD over the years. "A true favourite" she declared, and confessed to having a "soft spot" for the evergreen Harrison Ford, though admitted it was probably a couple of years since she had last seen 'Raiders'.
As the film finished Elle and Sherlock said good night to their hosts, freshened up and headed to bed.
Downstairs, however, things were not so happy. A closing of the lounge door to give at least some cushioning between them and their guests upstairs, Mary was incensed at John for what he had said earlier. He explained that he apologised directly to Sherlock, who had laughed it off, and evidently from her reaction Elle had not been upset, but Mary was so angry with him. The pair of them closed down the house and headed for their bedroom hardly looking at, never mind touching, one another.
Elle decided on a little bit of Indiana Jones magic herself, asking Sherlock which parts of his body were not turned on, and kissing them like the uninjured parts of Indy. It soon transpired that Sherlock was turned on everywhere so the game ran out of steam, though the lovers did not. They spent about forty minutes talking and kissing and cuddling and touching, though nothing more, before falling asleep in each other's arms.
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