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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
- 36
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- 38
Resting in his arms, Elle could feel Sherlock shaking below her, more than ever before. She moaned as she felt his phallus slide out of her on a billow of mixed ejaculate as they quit her body for the black sheet underneath. Lifting her head slightly, looking at the angular features of the face of the man she held, a curling smile blossomed on his lips. He filled his lungs with air, his chest barreling outwards as his mouth pursed to release the gaseous mix gradually back into the room.
"Wow. That was fantastic. Elle, those undies, the torn ones... I want to keep them. A trophy to our passion." He grinned, she smiled and nodded.
"I thought you might. Perhaps something else to double up on some time? Did I lose you for a while?"
"No. I have never felt more inside you. Somehow I switched off my brain and transferred all thoughts to my glans, and felt everything. I love totally losing control with you. It's phenomenal. When will you develop the pictures?" The pair of them climbed off the bed and put their robes on as she threw the white sheet off the bed, spotting their jointly deposited stain on the satin.
"Tomorrow, maybe, you can help if you like." He nodded. "Better put this sheet straight in the washing machine. Black may be sexy for photographing beautiful white bodies against but it's not a great colour for sex-mad lovers." She took the sheet straight down and started the washing machine, heading for her wet room to join Sherlock showering. Forty minutes later and they were dressed, had re-made the bed then headed downstairs to the kitchen where Elle started to cook.
Chicken diced and cooked through first then removed from the pan, same with the chorizo. Now with the flavour from both meats left in the pan she cooked the rest, starting with a shallot and some garlic, then added rice, Paprika, Saffron and stock. As the rice soaked up the final liquid the chicken and chorizo were returned to the pan along with the vegetables - carefully chopped by Sherlock under instruction, the shellfish would go in just minutes before serving. Barely on simmer, lightly stirred, seasoned, lidded and left, dinner continued to cook slowly infusing all the flavours.
Surprise! Just past 7pm all four of the Kew branch of friends turned up together. They explained, very occasionally they all manage to get on the same tube home. They walked into the kitchen to see Sherlock laying the table and Elle tidying up her cooking mess. Em shrieked "Paella!" Elle nodded, greetings made and the four latest arrivals headed upstairs to freshen and change as she added fresh clams, prawns and mussels to the pot. A couple of bottles of chilled white wine were brought from the fridge as everyone took their seats, Elle bringing the large deep pan to the table, Sherlock holding a handful of chopped parsley to scatter on top. Light applause and mock bows later and they were all eating, chatting away the evening.
Over an hour and a half passed by hardly noticed. The first person leaving the table being Ben, who had fetched yet another bottle of white from the fridge. Kaye and Em both rose next, clearing pots, stacking the dishwasher, making coffee and returning with some very posh dark chocolate ice cream they bought a couple of weeks earlier, intending to have it before the Bank Holiday with Elle and co. Ice cream eaten and coffee being consumed Elle was the next to leave the table. She nipped upstairs.
The conversation around the table must have been interesting as she was nearly ten minutes and Sherlock had not even thought of following her. As she came back to the table one arm was behind her back. A glassy-eyed Sherlock looked at her and she winked. Grinning widely she placed a small box on the middle of the table and settled back in her seat next to him.
As the current argument about what was the best scientific discovery of the last 50 years came to a head, voices started to calm. Elle and Sherlock were holding hands under the table. Em looked towards them and said "Gosh, Sherlock. You're a terrible influence on us. The intellectual level and subject matter of our teatime debates changes dramatically when someone as brainy as you joins us." Sherlock looked perplexed, then at Elle. "Not that Elle isn't smart as well, but you... Where did that box come from?"
"That's a little gift from Sherlock and me to the four of you. We hope you like it." Em picked up the parcel. It was not wrapped but just a tight-fitting box. It took her about a minute to get the two halves to begin to prise apart, by which time all around the table were looking. Finally the two pieces separated and Emma's face burst into a huge smile, her eyes staring directly at Elle, who smiled back nodding. The dictaphone was removed from the box. "I think Sherlock and I will leave you all to it. Have fun, we'll see you in the morning." Elle got up from the table again, this time to leave, Sherlock moving his chair to follow.
"Wait. Elle, Sherlock, won't you share it with us?" Em begged. By now Ben and Tony, who had not been privy to their partners' request of their friend, were looking totally confused.
"It is for you in twos, or as a four, you don't need us as well."
"We don't need you - no - not if this contains anything like what we're hoping. But we would love you to join us all the same. [Her eyes stared directly at the standing man.] Please Sherlock. We have always wanted to share our bed with Elle, but she never had anyone in her own before you to invite along. The 'Truth or Dare' game last time gave us an inkling of what things could be like."
"Just what are you suggesting?"
"I want you and Elle to join Ben, Kaye, Tony and me in my bedroom. We all settle on the bed with our own partners and let the dictaphone - well, dictate. See if what Elle says really works on you."
"We know it works on me, as you will realise as you play it. I was involved in the recording."
"Have you played it back already?"
"No."
"Then you have got to be there for the opening night! Anyway, if one of us should cock it... I mean, make a mess of proceedings, we need 'Elle the expert' to advise and guide us!"
"No way!" shrieked her friend. Em laughed knowing what reaction this would cause. Elle's voice softened. "What do you think, Sherlock? A night on our own - anything goes - or does my friend's appeal appeal to you?"
"Well... maybe we should be there for the opening night. It would be interesting to see if the effect is as potent second time around on listening as it was making." A wickedly menacing smile burst from his lips. The naughtiest of Sherlock's inner naughty boys had come to play. Elle resigned herself, nodded and headed upstairs to change into pyjamas. Sherlock followed doing the same, the pair diverting to her wet room for teeth, etc, then knocked on Em's bedroom door.
Ambient and romantic, the bedroom seemed prepared for passion. Only a street lamp's light from across the road prevented total blackness. The pillows had been thrown to the floor in a corner, the top sheet concertinaed at the bottom of the kingsize bed, should they need it later. Everyone already in the room was topless. Unsubtly the space left for the latest arrivals was in the middle. The other two couples were kissing and cuddling. Sherlock smiled, removed his shirt, walked to the bottom of the bed and climbed into the gap left for him and Elle. The kissing stopped momentarily, then Em followed by Kaye each kissed Sherlock's lips. All eyes then turned to Elle.
She sighed loudly, closed her eyes smiling, accepting her fate and decided 'In for a penny...' Slowly, seductively, with five pairs of eyes watching, she undid her shirt and let it fall. Tony groaned. Ben could not prevent himself saying "Wow", which caused another smug 'aren't-I-the-lucky-one' grin on Sherlock's face. She too walked to the bottom of the bed and climbed up the middle, kissing Sherlock's navel, nipples and throat on the way to his lips. He partially sat up, continuing her move up the bed until she was kneeling across him, his lips latching on to a nipple in return. She kissed the other men.
"Gosh - it was a good idea to get you two in here, but this could be the shortest session we've ever had together!" Kaye could feel the heat in herself growing, never mind in Tony. From what she could see from their reactions, Em and Ben were feeling very similarly. It appeared the four of them had wanted to make this ménage-à-six happen for some time. It had been over two years since the four had got together and had tried to entice Elle alone to join them, but now she had her own lover, by far the sexiest (and youngest) of them all, their lust for this moment had been insurmountably building.
Sherlock released Elle's nipple and she slipped back down, kissing his lips then cuddling, pressing her breasts against his chest as the other men wished momentarily they were him. "OK, we have briefed our boys" said Em, "is this good to go?" holding out the dictaphone. Elle shook her head.
"No. Shit. Sorry. I didn't set it to the beginning. Are you sure you want us in here?"
"God, yes, more than anything. [A couple of clicks and whirs later and Em looked around the group.] Ready?" There was affirmation from everyone. Making sure the sound level was set to 'high', she pressed play, then put the dictaphone on her bedside table.
"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!" The other four could only imagine the conversation during the pause.
"OK, Let's start. Make sure both of you are comfortable, position-wise and from the point of warmth. Right, he needs to be naked for this so off please - ooo. Lie beside him, easiest when still perfecting the art [there had obviously been a pause on the recording here, now three pairs of male pyjama bottoms were removed]. Rest your head on his stomach, touch the end of his cock with your tongue, kiss him." From this moment on Elle's voice was soft, provocative and sensual. The others finally understood. She was not describing what she would do, she was describing what she did do, that night with Sherlock at his parents' home. This was going to be a 'live' recording.
It started off quite staccato: an instruction, followed by an electronic pause, followed by further instruction. This went on nearly ten minutes. Only they knew exactly what happened during the pauses. She had said she had wanted Sherlock to control the dictaphone so obviously he was pressing Record or Pause as requested, but it was evident as the recording continued his mind was solely on what she was doing to him and now, there were no longer any pauses, everything was there for all to hear.
"Run your tongue again up his full length, from root to head, then back down, love the feel of him against your tongue. Ummm. Then do the same again but use the inside of your bottom lip. When back at the top take the head in your mouth and suck his glans, [silence], go deep on him, suck him tightly - [silence], Sherlock, I love sucking your cock. I want you inside me..."
Elle lifted her head off Sherlock and looked at him. "Sorry. I forgot to put it on pause when you tapped me. [Now they could hear her moaning softly on the recording as she slurped her mouth around him.] I was much too much into what you were doing to control it." She sighed, gently shook her head in a dismissive manner, and returned to listening to and following the instruction. Now the others knew how they had tried to do it: Elle signalling Sherlock to record or pause as she spoke or performed, tapping somewhere on him. No wonder he had failed to stay focused on his role!
"Slide your hand up his cock, use his foreskin to cover the head, then lick the head as you take it into your mouth again pushing the foreskin down. Ummm. Squeeze his shaft and twist your hand around him. Speed up your wrist action slightly. Repeat this action, increasing in speed if his body asks [silence]. Now slow down again and follow with your mouth. Umm. I wish I could talk with you in my mouth. Perhaps you should be describing this?"
"Leave me out of it! There's no way I could put into words what you're doing to me. I can hardly breathe, never mind string cohesive... ohh, shit. You're doing a bloody good job, believe me."
"You know I have said how I love your cock soft because I can take and suck more of you? ["Yes?"] Well I love you hard like this as well. Umm, this is impressive. How quickly do you think I can describe this and get you to the point of orgasm?"
"I don't know. I am getting pretty close already. How about you? Are you enjoying it?"
"What Sherlock? You have to ask? Call yourself a detective? Hah! You surely know I'm loving this. The only way you could be anymore perfect would be if you had two of these, and could put one in my mouth and the other inside me - at the same time." She obviously then did something extraordinary.
"Huh! Oh! Hey, you didn't describe that. That is dereliction of duty! Come on Elle. Describe what you are doing to me [silence]. If nothing else, it channels my thoughts. It also helps me know... whoah. Oh shit. Aahh. Oh, are either of your friends capable of doing that?" There was a long pause and a groan from her before Elle released him and replied.
"I doubt it. They were curious recently whether I thought it truly possible to go that deep. No, that one I won't describe. That, baby, was just for you."
"Thanks." Breathless recognition of an ultimately 'throaty' moment.
"Where was I? Oh yes. Take him again into your mouth, run your tongue all the way around his rim. Kiss his glans again. Go as deep as you dare down him, let your mouth follow your hand... React to him. Let his impulses guide the speed... [more silence]. Wow, like that is it? John's right, you are a randy sod... Just you wait until this is done, I'm gonna ride you 'til your balls fall off..." A lot more slurping - and then humming, from him - could be heard, with gasps intermittently joining the vocalisation of this very intimate pastime. "Ummm. I love licking and sucking you. God Sherlock, I could eat you alive."
"I thought you were. Ooo. Aah. Elle..?" His voice had become a soft whisper, a plea nearly.
"Ummm. You think I don't know? I know how close you are. Do you want me to stop, or will you have enough to come again if I take you all the way?"
"Don't you dare stop. I'll be ready for more when you are. Suck me off Elle."
"OK girls, prepare yourselves for one of the world's most unique sensations..." There was no more talking but noises off of Sherlock groaning, Elle sucking deeply and the ultimate reaction from both of them as his climax finished the recording with a flourish. She swallowed loudly. "Umm, wow, I love it when you come in my mouth."
"Are you sure you don't like the taste? You take me all the way often enough?"
"Not particularly, as I said before, but I love the sensation... and your pre-cum is delicious. Essence of Sherlock!"
Lying on the bed six friends gasped for air. Sherlock and Elle's experience had been a near perfect replica of the recorded version. It appeared, however, the others had witnessed their conclusion so must have finished earlier. The soft whirring stopped with a click, Em had turned off the dictaphone. "Wow. That was unbelievable!" She spoke the thoughts of everyone. Ben stretched down and pulled the sheet up over all six of them. Not for warmth, but feeling a little privacy, even after this scenario, might be required.
"Now that was a blow job. Shit. You were right Sherlock. If they had all felt like that I'd have loved them and Kaye's and my tally would be topping well over a hundred. Jeez." Tony seemed ready to wax lyrical on the subject for anyone to listen. "Kaye, Em, did you enjoy it?" Both of them answered in the affirmative, Em adding she believed Elle could probably teach an old granny to suck eggs and get an orgasm from it. Elle just smiled at her friend, content to rest her head on Sherlock's chest, listening as his heart rate began to calm. Ben's comment was addressed directly at the detective, saying just what a lucky guy he was, and hoped he appreciated it. Sherlock, eyes closed, grinned his acknowledgement of what was true and gently nodded.
Kaye slipped out from under the sheet, pulled her pyjama top on, then picked up a pile of cast off nightwear and placed it on the bed. Ben and Tony exited off the bed too, putting on their bottoms, Sherlock finally doing the same. He grabbed his shirt and threw it on, left unbuttoned, Elle remaking claim on the other half of her nightwear. Sherlock headed for her shower to cool off.
"Shall we prop all the doors open? It's so airless tonight." Em stretched out, now the only one in her bed. Ben returned from his shower, picking up the pillows and replacing them.
"Good idea. See you in the morning." Elle left the room for her shower. It was still running, Sherlock had just stepped out, hair dry but body sprinkled with droplets. He did not dry, just walked into her room and relaxed on the bed, duvet thrown open, no light on, a small breeze trying to make its presence felt. Elle joined him, using a wooden door stop to keep it wide, saying she had done the same with the wet room door as well. She too was wet except her hair. Moonlight pierced the crack in the curtain she had left for whatever air was available, the celestial light reflecting in the shower droplets on Sherlock's torso and legs. Elle climbed on the bed, licking water off him wherever she found it, her mouth yet again finding his softened phallus and she took him wholly in, sucking and caressing him.
He pulled her off him. "You know what you need for doing that?"
"No idea. What do I need Sherlock?" she teased.
"This!" In seconds his tongue was inside, her legs forced wide. Revenge time! He nibbled her clitoris and licked it feverishly, sucking her labia, tantalising her to dampness, she jolting frenetically, contracting around his tongue as it performed an erotic recital. He was hot. Now he was going to play with her. "A" he said, his bottom lip grazing her inner lips; "B", the vibration of the letter against her clitoris. "C", air expelled, blowing gently in her; "D", a blunt chin movement as his teeth clenched and he nuzzled his mouth on her opening. "E" - ineffectual and passed quickly, "F", more soft air sizzled around her most erogenous zone. "G", verbally useless, but as it screwed up his face his nose nuzzled her clit, her favourite letter so far. "H" - his pronunciation was perfect, the 'tch' sound vibrating her labia. "I" - his open mouth engaged her inner lips as he formed the sound, "J" quickly following, reversing his lip shape on her.
"K" - sharp movement of his lips against her inner ones, her senses preparing her for the next letter... "L"... His tongue left the confines of his own mouth, sliding inside her, licking upwards... "L". A pleasure to beheld. "L" - again he said it, and she knew he was abandoning the rest of the alphabet as comprehensively as she was abandoning control. "L" - proof her name began with the most provocative letter in language; the letter she was known by.
He smiled, clicked and winked as their eyes sighted each other as he raised his body and pushed his cock deeply inside her. They were both highly vocal now. Maybe it was knowing the doors were all wide and the others could potentially hear them, or maybe it was because the whole dictaphone scenario had turned them both on excessively but, whatever the reason, they were maniacal, grunting and groaning like wild animals. Change in position, Sherlock moved to kneeling, Elle sat up, kissed him, sucking his bottom lip, sliding her legs over his. Lying down again she anchored her feet and bucked her hips, pulsing his cock as he leaned back, braced, uncontrolled and enjoying her attention.
They flattened their bodies and rolled, her on top straddling his thighs, riding him hard, his fingers in her hair, pulling her down against him, breasts to chests, engaging her lips with gentle then passionate kisses.
Evidently none of their friends were ready for sleep either. Elle could hear music. Tony then shouted for it to be turned up, obviously the other pairs were now in separate rooms. The song, 'Poison' by Alice Cooper, finished and Tony made his second, but more unsubtle request. "Put something on with a driving beat we can fuck to." Selection made by Em or Ben, Def Leppard's 'Animal' was next; great fun, however it was not enough, nowhere near enough for any couple. Gasps for something faster came from all male voices, a profound malevolency in Sherlock's tone as he wallowed in this new experience of sex to music.
"Girls, I love you both, and I'm sorry. Just hope we all survive this. Here's one of Elle's favourite songs" Em called to the other rooms as she made what was going to be everyone's final selection: 'Resurrection' by Brian May. The first thirty seconds gave the girls and their guys a little breather, then in came Brian, with his screaming guitar and drummer friend, Cozy Powell; all hell broke loose. Driving beat? OMG! It was more than that. Now on top Sherlock matched the rhythm, determined to see it through to the end, drilling away, crescendoing as the song did, releasing his seed explosively, groaning, totally exhausted, collapsing his weight fully on Elle, asleep immediately. Elle sighed deeply. Her body was throbbing, heart pounding, on top of her a male physique sticky with sweat: contentment personified. She smiled as sleep smothered her.
After expending that much energy thoughts of further love making overnight was far from anyone's mind, but there was one thing they had not banked upon on this sultry summer night; rain. A lot of rain. The smell of Kew's fragrant and refreshed air drifted in through the open windows. Still pitch black outside, the downpour pummelled the streets. Elle gasped awake, her barometric-sensitive body feeling the change in pressure as the rain's rhythm pulsed her heart and loins into life.
Sherlock stirred. He could feel her heart thumping in her breast against him. He smiled, eyes remaining closed. He was still inside her and, thanks to her reaction to the weather, now also refuelled. He sighed, lifted his sticky chest off hers to stretch out his shoulders and arms, lowered his torso again so his mouth parked close to her ear. "Want to 'sing in the rain'?" he whispered, now conscious of the open doors.
"Hey, that was nearly reference to a film title. You are not so naive about film as you appear."
"Actually, I am, but 'Singing in the Rain' is my Mother's favourite film so even I've heard of that one." He started to kiss her, sliding rather than pounding his body within her. "Do you want me?"
"Yes. Gently. Slowly. Make love to me." So different from her request thirteen hours earlier, he continued to kiss her. He rolled the pair so he was on his back. His hand took firm hold of her hips and coordinated the gentle, slow, passionate moves from underneath, she occasionally lifting her torso away from his, pushing deeply on him, moaning pleasurably, then relinquishing to lying on top of him, guided by his loins. As her lips collected his she slipped her tongue deep into his mouth, then withdrew it followed by her licking his lips, then more kissing again. Her hands found either side of his face, her lips pressing even more on his as she continued grinding her pelvis against his, whimpering, sobbing nearly to the stiffness of his cock pressing within her. Her body shook with orgasm, her breathing shortening yet again.
Sherlock stroked her back, comforting her, resigning his control, hitting his own pinnacle. His hand moved to stroke her head as she settled on his shoulder, sighed deeply and slept peacefully again. He drifted off slightly later than she, he content to have her lying squarely on top of him, where she belonged he thought, in his arms, unaware their friends had been awake, listening.
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