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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
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"Testing, testing, gosh I hope this'll work. How stupid am I, agreeing to this? This really is such a bad idea... Actually, um... Sherlock? Do you mind if I use your body tonight?"
"What is supposed to be different to tonight from other nights?"
"You'll see. I want you to control... this!" Elle elaborated further, handing Sherlock the dictaphone, explaining her promise. She just controlled Sherlock himself, and the first part of the love making process between them. He loved every second of it and thought her idea was genius equal to Mycroft's bow tie any day. Stashed carefully in a zipped pocket of her overnight bag, along with those torn undies, the dictaphone was dismissed from their minds until it would be required again at Kew.
Awash with all the attention he had received from his girl Sherlock found his own fiery passion equally difficult to keep controlled as the electronic gadget, and the sexual encounter they shared was powerfully brutal, he being pleased his bedroom was next to Mycroft's empty berth, rather than near his parents' room. They were both quite vocal, trying to keep the volume low but not succeeding totally. After very robust and incredibly physical shared orgasms, Elle riding him most of the way, but not quite fulfilling the threat she had made during the recording, the pair kissed, Sherlock as ever ensuring his lady was ok. Deep sleep cloaked their bodies as passion had smothered them earlier.
- * -
Tuesday and a much louder knock on the door around 8:30, and a pause until called to do so, Will entered the bedroom finding the lovers fully covered under a sheet and cellular blanket, lying in separate halves of the bed. "Morning. Your Mum has suggested we go out for the day together. Fancy a trip to the south coast, show your friends one of the beaches?"
"That sounds a good idea Dad. I'll shower and dress then wake John and Mary."
"They are awake already. One of them is in the shower."
"Great. We'll get on and see you downstairs shortly." His father left the room, Sherlock planted a sweet and gentle kiss on Elle's lips, grabbed his robe and went for his shower. Elle followed suit as Sherlock returned to the bedroom to dress, towelling his hair. Elle kept her hair plaited and clipped it up so it would not get wet, showering quickly and she too going back to the bedroom for clothes and then headed downstairs to join everyone else.
All six met for cereals, toast and coffee, then piled into two vehicles again. This time all the friends were in the Toyota, following the Range Rover. Rather than go to Southampton, a sprawling city itself, they headed further west across the county border to Dorset for Bournemouth and its beautiful golden sands. Conversation was free, with just the four in the car, John again confirming he and Mary had heard 'happenings' from the others' bedroom the previous night. The day was spent with the six walking, talking and relaxing generally, admiring the scenery, looking at the beach huts and entertaining themselves with Sherlock's favoured pastime of people-watching.
To top off a near perfect day, a paddle in the sea was followed by dinner at a top class English seafood restaurant; Sherlock's treat to his parents for inviting John and Mary too, and having them all to stay. The drive home was full of laughter. John had fallen whilst paddling, nearly getting soaked, Sherlock just pulling him to his feet before he was swamped by an incoming wave. Additionally Elle had been mistaken for a lesbian TV personality, who thought Mary was her latest flame, the two younger men not even being noticed, never mind recognised.
There was just one dampener on the day: John was contacted via text by the Practice he doctored at during the drive back to Easton to enquire whether he was available to cover Thursday, Friday and Saturday morning. He talked to Mary, Sherlock and Elle first before confirming in the affirmative. Home by just after 10:30pm, early nights were agreed as all the fresh sea air had tired them out. Elle and Debbie ascended the stairs nearly immediately, with John and Mary staying only a further ten minutes or so before heading upstairs themselves, leaving Sherlock and his Dad to talk together.
The decision had been removed from them; they would need to return tomorrow. Sherlock had explained to his parents about John's message and that they would have to leave some point the following day. They were upset but understood, and confessed to being grateful to have seen their youngest son for as long as they had and, of course, meeting both Mary and Elle, and John again.
Discussion, between John and Sherlock mainly, on the timing of departure raised a number of pointers. It was eventually decided the four would make their way back to Kew after lunch. It was also suggested, as John no longer lived at Baker Street, there was no reason Sherlock and Elle should not consider remaining at Kew if he was not required by an impending case or Lestrade, so they could spend more time with Elle's house mates, now she was moving to Central London. Finally agreed, Elle texted Em to say they would be returning from Hampshire after lunch on Wednesday and that she and Sherlock would stay on a few days.
Sherlock had received a communication too. His was a text from Mycroft to say his visit to Chequers was going well, and he had felt so dapper in his black tie outfit that night. He added he had not been able to resist undoing his tie as the party began to break up, just to prove it was 'real'. It appeared a lot of the ties there were elasticated. One thing was for sure, however many guests there were no-one else would have such a unique tie as Mycroft. Sherlock told his parents and friends during breakfast, and all visualised Mycroft's secret smugness, Elle now delighted with her solution.
In bed before midnight the whole house was in darkness. Sherlock could feel the warmth of the female body beside him after their love making had changed from gentle caresses to pure erotic passion. He had realised how tired Elle was after their trip and convinced himself he would let her sleep without making love, but she was all over him like a rash, instigating proceedings, kissing, stroking and sucking him, culminating in some extraordinary sex, she on top most of the way, knowing that was his preference. Heavy breathing afterwards, a very sweaty male body left the bed returning with a dampened flannel and dry towel for both him and his belle to use. Cuddling together the lovers once again drifted to sleep.
- * -
Morning sunshine filtered through the dark purple curtains. It was 8:15 and the household was on the move. Wearing her robe Elle headed for the bathroom, washed her hair in the process of showering, returning to the bedroom as her's and Sherlock's paths crossed and he headed for a dip himself. By 9am all six were downstairs eating breakfast. Another walk around the village to have a last look for the new visitors, and a final chance for Sherlock to talk with his parents. The other three purposefully trailing behind the family.
John kept trying to guess when Sherlock was going to look around to make sure Elle was still there but, like the Kew girls, he was evidently over estimating. At one point he noticed Sherlock start to turn and pushed Elle into a garden behind a tree so he could witness his friend's reaction to her disappearance. Sherlock was about to return to the lagging group to see what had happened as Elle reappeared and waved, so he stayed talking with his parents.
Lunch was salad and cold salmon. Shortly after helping clear the table all four guests headed upstairs to pack and collect their bags. No deviation from the plan as there had been at Kew. The car was loaded and all four requested not to be strangers. Kisses and hugs from all the guests to their two hosts the goodbyes were long and for Sherlock, particularly painful. He had enjoyed his time back at his family home, especially the conversations with his Dad, who he was obviously so very close to.
Thank you's said, waves through car windows and a crunching of pebble later, Elle drove out of the garden's perimeter, heading for the M3 junction and next stop Kew. The Watsons came in for a coffee before Elle rang the local taxi firm to take them back to Hampstead. Unfortunately neither of Elle's house mates were home in time, as John and Mary each embraced and kissed Sherlock and Elle before leaving, thanking them, as they had the elder Holmes', for their kind invitation. Promises to all see each other soon, probably at Baker Street, or perhaps a meal at Angelo's if work did not demand it of the men sooner, the married duo disappeared as the 16:00 BA Dreamliner was heard flying overhead leaving Heathrow for JFK in New York.
As soon as they were alone Elle looked at Sherlock with hugely dilated eyes, kissing and encouraging him to follow her upstairs. The action started the minute her bedroom door closed. One of her friends had replaced the removed sheets with fresh bedding and the window was locked open to allow fresh air to filter in. Though every cell in her brain told her she should be tired from driving so much over the last couple of days Elle's hunger for her lover was intense. He truly stood like one of Bernini's best this time, inanimate and motionless, letting her undress him with her eyes, hands and lips. As his marl grey boxer briefs hit carpet her mouth enveloped part of his body and she whined like a lost puppy. As blood filled and activated his form he stroked her head, still stock still, letting her satiate her desires upon him.
As she paused momentarily to lick her lips Sherlock pulled her up to standing, undressed her quickly and led her to bed. Lying her down on her back he positioned his body low to kiss and lick her intimately with devastating effect, his tongue ricocheting around inside her. She was close to orgasm before he heard her gasp deeply. His physique slithered on sweat from both forms as their bodies aligned: lips engaged lips, hips with hips and loins conjoined, two sighs mingling in the air above. Wriggling and rolling they each took turns to be on top. It seemed wherever either of them were, they wanted to be in another position so their erotic dance started more jive than tango.
Nearly two hours later and they were still together, enjoying the pleasures of being vocally free in an empty house, noise abatement non-existent! The jive was barely a smooch now, he settled happily underneath as she continued to caress the outside of him with the inside of her. Kissing continually, they brought this passioned love making adventure to its heady conclusion. She had stopped counting orgasms when her body was wracked by a fifth, impressively he served a third shortly before their decision to separate.
Under her hot steamy rainfall shower they washed and rinsed each other, neither caring whether their hair was wet or not, even though they had both shampooed that morning. As they cuddled together, rubbing their bodies against one another, sensitising the water-stimulated skin further, a noise downstairs informed them they were no longer alone. Wrapped in towels now (they had approached the shower naked) they returned to her room, dried and dressed. A quick hair combing with their own fingers and they were ready to meet and greet again.
Walking into the lounge the two girl friends looked delighted to know the Baker Street duo would not be leaving immediately as the Watsons had been required to do. Em was particularly thrilled to spend more precious time with her best friend. Now she knew Elle was moving in with Sherlock, time with her friend would be far more limited, however, she was delighted for the reason. Tight embraces and cheek kisses exchanged all round, Em got straight to the main topic in mind. "Well, did Sherlock's parents have fangs and claws or were they just human after all?"
"Oh, they were more than human, they were wonderful. Very friendly, extremely welcoming, I managed to spend time with each of them individually. Sherlock is very close to both of them. We even had some fun with and saw a different side to his brother Mycroft."
"My family loved her!"
"A better alternative to the scaffold after all?" Em continued.
"Yes, definitely. It was a lovely few days. I could see distinct characteristics in each of Sherlock's parents he has inherited. They were very kind and thoughtful and didn't try to eat me alive once."
"Unfortunately, after what he witnessed, Dad won't have the same opinion of you!"
"What do you mean?" Em enquired.
"Sherlock's father came into his bedroom one morning when I was... adding to my tally, shall we say."
"Oh no. [Em grinned from ear to ear, but did honestly look shocked.] What did he say?"
"Absolutely nothing. His Dad didn't even skip a beat, just delivered his message and left without a sideways glance. I can't say anything though as, at the time, I hadn't even realised he'd been in!"
"No, my love, you were away with the fairies when Dad came in. I was impressed he did not react at all, though he did say to me when we were alone last night that I was an extremely lucky man and winked, whether that carried weight of what he witnessed I'm not sure. He did say he liked you very much. I think you won over the whole Holmes family." Elle smiled at this admission. Never again would she feel trepidatious about meeting or talking to them.
"Are you expecting Ben and Tony here tonight?" enquired Elle.
"No" Kaye replied, "they'll be here tomorrow evening, and we all have Friday off again."
"Why?"
"We always do it. If there is a bank holiday Monday we take the following Friday, rather than the one before normally so it makes for two shorter long weekends and a very short week in between. We had last Friday off additionally, because of your visit. I guess you will be getting yourself organised for your new job starting on Monday?"
"Yes. I'm looking forward to it so I must be ready. I had better sort my suits to take to Baker Street. I think I'm going to need some of your wardrobe space Sherlock."
"It would probably make sense if I had work clothes and casuals here too. When we were here at Easter I only had the clothes I arrived in."
"You ought to have a full grooming kit here too, then you can head for Scotland Yard or wherever straight from here without needing to detour to Baker Street first. That would give us both more freedom."
"Sounds a good idea to me. I will swap some of my wardrobe space for some of yours."
After dinner Sherlock noticed as the evening passed Elle was starting to look very tired. Not only from the emotional side of being introduced to his family, but with all the driving, and more than slightly disturbed nights thanks, in the main, to him. Emma was looking at her friend too.
"Elle, why don't you head for bed via my wet room, rather than yours?"
"That sounds a good idea. Care to join me for a bath Sherlock?"
"Oh? Oh, yes please. I could do with a soak." Elle stood up, embraced each of her friends in turn, then headed upstairs. "Good night girls" Sherlock said as he winked, smiled and followed moments later. He walked into Elle's room to find her in her dark purple towelling robe, selecting towels from her linen box. A dark grey towelling robe was on the bed. It was obviously brand new, bought for Sherlock, and freshly laundered. She held it out for him.
"Looks like the girls have been shopping for you already. I guess there will be a number of things we will need to double up on."
"Yes, including some choice toys and birthday presents." He undressed slowly. He would have liked Elle to undress him, but knew she was low on energy. She left the room to go and fill the bath. He finished undressing, then followed the noise of running water and tapped on the door. He had not been in this bathroom before. There was a lovely Victorian style rolled top bath near to the far wall, free-standing, on lion paw feet. It was modern however as the taps were sensibly on one side. The bath did not slope either, except slightly towards the drain. All the floor and walls in the room were dark anthracite grey slate, but the room was still airy as the window was huge. The toilet and sink were in front of the window itself. A single shower cubicle was situated in the corner furthest from the door. The bath filled quickly, such a benefit of modern plumbing. Scattered scented candles lit the room tonight.
Sherlock helped Elle into the bath, then followed, sitting behind her to start with so he could douse her back and try and aid relaxation. He then stood and stepped over her so they were facing one another and he sponged down her neck and over her breasts, unable to prevent himself salivating at the sight of her stimulated wet nipples. She smiled at him, put her legs either side of his hips and squeezed his body against hers. The feel of her in his arms intoxicated him. She released him and leaned against the back of the bath, copied by Sherlock at the other end. His eyes closed, relaxing, letting his head fall back and the warm water envelop him, caressing tension from his muscles. This was short-lived relief however as he moaned softly and smiled. Elle was trying something he hinted he might like; his fantasy of her using her feet to take him off.
She delicately lifted his cock with one, trapping him between her two feet, adjusting her position carefully and started to rock at the ankle bones. He groaned loudly, lifted his head and stared at her, her end of the bath also enjoying this new sensation. "St... stop" he stuttered finally, his fantasy almost completely fulfilled. Elle was fully awake again. She knelt, lowering herself carefully down his cock. She pumped up and down, he sitting forwards, wrapping his arms about her body and mouth around a nipple. Slowing her movement, he used her flexibility by pushing her legs straight then rolled the pair, asserting himself on top. Good job this was a wet room as water spilled over the rim of the bath, dousing some candles out, plunging them into near darkness. Highly vocal they cavorted away, both hit orgasm (his ironically dry), a feat before neither had believed possible in this scenario.
They swilled down, then pulled the plug after exiting the bath. Towelling robes tied, bath rinsed, feet dry, floor mopped and remaining candles extinguished, they left, grabbed toothbrushes, cleaned their teeth in Elle's wet room then headed for bed. Duvet thrown open, Elle's body contorted as she smiled flirtatiously. "You still want me!" he growled slowly, surveying and admiring her curves, stroking her.
"And just what makes you think that?" she challenged transparently.
"Simple observation and deduction. [She looked open-eyed, questioning him, so he explained.] You have only just finished bathing yet your palms are sticky: you have beautiful green-grey eyes but no colour can be seen, they are hugely dilated. Yes, this room is dark, but your eyes are dilated, not only through darkness but through lust. Your lips are redder than normal, plumped with blood and slightly open, a sensual cue to me of your form below. Your nipples are erect, awaiting your lover's touch or kiss. In your throat a muscle betrays the fact your heart rate is high, as does the pulse I can feel under your navel. As for lower down, so recently washed, yet your vulva is thickened and wet. Signs of recent activity, yes, but more than that. This is a new coating of wet. Previous action would have rinsed away, therefore you are highly sensitised and receptive to the idea, no, wanton desire, of further penetration." At high speed, like on a case, just his magnifier missing, for the first time Sherlock had openly analysed her.

"Just shut up and fuck me you cocky know-it-all!" She grinned mischievously.
No further invitation needed. He had been shocked when John had said it, never believing he meant it, but from Elle's lips... He realised he had longed for her to say it. To say what she wanted so blatantly. He knew it was a word neither of them used in ordinary language, for provocation, shock or just as a powerful profanity, but here in the context that was right, it enflamed him.
He was rampant: maybe knowing he was the only man in the house but he could not get himself on to or into her quick enough. Robes still on, their dampened bodies sticking together as he pushed himself inside her. His thrusts were relentless. He was trembling and moaning, even more than she was, a fact she realised as she tightened everything she had any control of around him and fought against him, ending the only way; out and out ecstasy for both, howls of passion and collapsing asleep immediately.
The following morning Elle woke to find the thin duvet thrown over her and Sherlock, both still in towelling robes, and a post-it stuck to her lamp, Em explaining she had been in and turned off their light. Once downstairs they saw a proper note from Em clarifying she had woken around 3am and heard soft sleeping drones from each but seeing light still shining under their door. She had nipped in quietly and turned off the lamp, covering them, leaving them to sleep. The note continued, asking what she and Sherlock would like to eat that night. There would be six altogether for dinner.
Breakfasting the lovers ate and talked before Elle suggested a walk around Kew if Sherlock was happy with that. He agreed. It was incredibly hot and sultry. A quick look in the pantry and fridge confirmed what was already in stock and what was required for an idea she had. Knowing her two friends would be at home tonight, along with their lovers, Elle texted her friends to say she would cook, deciding she wanted to make something special for them all - summer on a plate. Picking up some fresh vegetables, including red and yellow sweet peppers, courgettes and fresh peas, plus a selection of meat and shellfish, dinner was planned. Even for Sherlock there was a great deal of excitement about the prospect of the six friends being together. He would miss John and Mary being there, but it would cause a different dynamic again.
Two things suddenly made Sherlock smile as they walked. Elle questioned him when she saw the look and he confessed he was thinking about a zipped pocket in her overnight case and, more accurately, its contents: a pair of torn undies, ripped asunder from her hips prior to some seriously erotic love making, and a dictaphone, holding within its bowels, literally a blow by blow account of an extremely intimate encounter part of him had with her mouth. "We'll have to gift that to Em and Kaye when they're home. I'm sure they'll enjoy it, well, Ben and Tony should." She smiled as Sherlock sighed and winked.
Text messages swapped back and forth, between Elle and her two friends, then further afield to their guys, established when everyone was expecting to be home. Elle planned dinner for 7:30pm. With at least a couple of hours to pass before needing to start cooking Sherlock kissed her sensually on the neck giving rise to his intentions of how to wile away the hours. Elle, thinking back to a flash-bomb she had previously at Baker Street, suggested playing with one of her toys she had never used with Sherlock once home. Curious, he agreed carte blanche. Asked to give her ten minutes before entering the bedroom Elle knew that alone would be torture enough for Sherlock. What could she be doing? He was as ever twitching the moment she was out of sight. Ten minutes was an incredibly long time. Eventually, as his core muscles tightened with anticipation, Sherlock ascended the stairs and opened the bedroom door.
The first thing that surprised him was the curtains were still wide open, and Elle was not on the bed, semi-trussed up as he had been imagining, hoping. On the bed was a white pillow and white over-sheet; the underneath one was shiny, satin, and black. Now he was more curious than ever. Elle was sitting in the winged chair in the corner of the room. "I want you wet Sherlock" she whispered provocatively. "Would you go and quickly shower - your hair as well?" Without a word he took off his clothes then walked out the room, returning moments later, hair towel dried, but the rest of him glistening with water.
"Lie on the bed, head on the pillow, and relax - think sensual not sexual." He placed his dark-haired head on the white pillow, whilst his marble-white body was lying on black satin. It felt cool to the touch. Elle came forward, draped the white sheet over him so it covered the lower part of his physique up to his navel. "I want you to close your eyes now. You will hear a couple of noises but don't get too curious. I just need to set this final stage up." He could hear noises. None made any sense to him as yet. "OK. I want you to imagine I am naked and about to climb on to the bed beside you." His face burst into an enigmatic electrifying smile. "Look towards my voice now." CLICK.
As Sherlock opened his eyes Elle had taken a photograph of him. That wonderful smile, his white body against black sheet, shrouded by the top sheet for modesty, but his dampened form delineated all his contours, including his dark pubic hair and semi-erect cock. She took about a dozen photos of him full length, then some just of his dark-haired framed face on the white pillow. All of a sudden Sherlock was enjoying this. He threw the sheet off him, lying nearly on his front, leg bent, bottom exposed, his head lifted on his arm, the pillow off bed as well. She took a series in this pose too. With only a few black and white shots left, Sherlock spoke for the first time since being back in the bedroom.
"Now, how do you really want me for the next photos? I'm guessing you will develop these, and they will be for your eyes only?"
"Yes." She could barely speak. With the pillow back behind his head, no top sheet, Sherlock rested flat on his back, the fingers of his right hand tangled in his hair, his left hand loosely cupping his balls, his cock almost but not totally obscured by his arm, eyes and mouth slightly open, the epitome of male sexuality. Elle gasped and took the last photographs in quick succession; she did not want to risk them all being out of focus, like her brain now was. Then there was a definite CLUNK. Elle had put her camera down on the floor, walked across the room, stripping as she did, and climbed on the bed, taking his lips in hers and sighing deeply. "I want you!" She was so hot her breath seemed to lock in her chest.
Sherlock rolled so he was partially over her. "What do you want me to do Elle? Tell me, say it."
After his reaction last night, she knew what he wanted to hear. "Anything. [Her voice barely audible caught in her throat.] Touch me, pleasure me, enable me, fuck me!"
The fingers of his left hand glided into her hair as he lifted his body over hers. His right hand stroked her face, then travelled down the left curves of her body until he reached between to take hold of himself. He angled his hips above hers and pressed his cock between her folds. Breathing in a lungful of air, appearing to release none, her face split into a resounding smile as her body again accepted his penetration. Right hand against her face, he was hungrily trying to kiss every area of her mouth, cheeks, forehead, nose, eyes, chin, ears even. He was losing control already.
To try and focus his mind she ran her fingers across his face. Slowing his kisses, capturing his mouth with hers, her other hand finding purchase on his lower back. She spread her fingers so her middle finger lay along the crack of his backside, the fingers either side spread on his muscular bottom cheeks, guiding his movement. It was as though he had momentarily forgotten he was already inside her. Her body shifted in scintillating wriggles beneath his. Suddenly his awareness pulled him out of the stupor and, remembering her electrifying heart-felt plea, he started to take command of his frame and moved his body within her. His strokes were long and slow. He guessed from the phrasing of her request she probably wanted him hard and fast, but knew it would get there; for now he wanted to feel the pleasure of her around him.
His brain had found cynosure. Eyes closed, all his concentration was centred on one thing: how much could he feel solely from the glans of his cock? Stripping away all other thoughts he was able to focus totally on this one place and it was sending him beyond pleasure. He could feel everything: the tightness of her body, the bone structure of her pelvis he was pressing against, the softness, the warmth, the sudden wetness as she ejaculated without warning. A heat overwhelmed him. His brain left his glans and re-engaged with the rest of his frame. Her legs were now tight around his thighs, her hands had remained where they had settled, her tongue... Her tongue was touching the end of his, but his was being sucked, in her mouth, the same technique she used on his cock so effectively.
He withdrew his tongue from her mouth, planted a sybaritic kiss on her lips and ached as his body finally began to rhythmically thrust inside her. She was writhing now. Air-purging sighs, groans and moans expelled from her as she contorted into orgasm around him, he increasing his presence even more, powering now to fulfil her request. As the last modicum of self-command left him and his involuntary reactions to her overruled all pretence at control, he bombarded her with jolts and thrusts until his body unleashed its liquid contents, she squeezing everything out of him as her own form climaxed again. His forceful ejaculation caused him to bellow so loud, his mind returning to his glans to feel that most excruciatingly wonderful sensation within her. The world around him blurred and dissolved, fading to black as he tried to force himself back to his brain.
Returned to his whole body again Sherlock felt her arms wrap around him so caressively and lovingly, stroking his sweated wet hair away from his eyes, she gathered his lips for an intensely sensual kiss. A fire in the depth of his stomach was suddenly re-stoked and he began to shudder uncontrollably. After such a powerful orgasm he was yet again heading for an encore. He felt unsure she would want any more of him but, on the contrary, she rolled the pair, took his face in her hands and kissed him passionately as she rose and fell on him quickly, bringing him through to his second climax, relieved and released. Sublime.
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