the great himbo herlock sholmes. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
retroductions) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
finalflight2024-09-12 10:58 am
retroductions) wrote in finalflight2024-09-12 10:58 am
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Very well. As I stated, my partner and I were called to Dartmoor—a region in southwest Britian—to investigate the murder of a horse trainer and the apparent theft of a prized thoroughbred, Silver Blaze.
[Maybe he can't live up to the enormity of what she wants, but he can at least make this last as long as either of them can hold out. A long, langourous suck, a wet release. The same again — running with the metaphor, it would not be unlike trying to pull nectar from a flower. Again and again.
He can't speak, of course. But he can spread his own legs a little farther apart, sinking incrementally lower by doing so (only possible thanks to leaning against the chaise, at that), to encourage wherever her tail is drifting.]
He can't speak, of course. But he can spread his own legs a little farther apart, sinking incrementally lower by doing so (only possible thanks to leaning against the chaise, at that), to encourage wherever her tail is drifting.]
[ nectar... well, he earns something like that. heady and slick on his lips and chin, while Sprezzatura's breath comes in little gasps as if of pain, and her thighs jolt again and again. electrified movement.
the lower he sinks, the wider his spread, the warmer she burns. if she could only look at him from another angle and appreciate the bend of his back and the tightness of his trousers on his backside, but like this, she is full up on appreciation. can barely breathe for all her hoarse cries, murmurations.
into the open vee of his trousers. around the heavy throbbing length she finds there, waiting. she begins to stroke him in time with each suck. pull, release. pull, release.
babbling: ] Make me shine, ohh. Play with my mole, touch it—
[ did she say mole or hole? well. either way. ]
the lower he sinks, the wider his spread, the warmer she burns. if she could only look at him from another angle and appreciate the bend of his back and the tightness of his trousers on his backside, but like this, she is full up on appreciation. can barely breathe for all her hoarse cries, murmurations.
into the open vee of his trousers. around the heavy throbbing length she finds there, waiting. she begins to stroke him in time with each suck. pull, release. pull, release.
babbling: ] Make me shine, ohh. Play with my mole, touch it—
[ did she say mole or hole? well. either way. ]
[He feels like his own face is on fire, and that has nothing to do with how he's practically buried between her legs, sucking at her clit. An interruption comes when she tugs at his aching cock, desperate for attention, Sholmes allowing himself a short gasp, his lips and chin shining from her.]
God...
[Ohh, that feels divine. Addictingly so. He can understand why people kill over this.
Touch her mole? Her hole? Would she care if it were either? His hand clumsily joins him, venturing in just beneath his face to nudge his fingers experimentally against.... her hole.]
God...
[Ohh, that feels divine. Addictingly so. He can understand why people kill over this.
Touch her mole? Her hole? Would she care if it were either? His hand clumsily joins him, venturing in just beneath his face to nudge his fingers experimentally against.... her hole.]
Indeed! Arriving in due time, it made sense to inspect the body first. Tell me, what would your assessment of this man's death be, if you were to make your own judgement?
[Based on the mannequin, it's quite obvious the corpse was dealt a blow to the head. This is not a trick question, though there is nothing to indicate what specifically could've killed him.]
[Based on the mannequin, it's quite obvious the corpse was dealt a blow to the head. This is not a trick question, though there is nothing to indicate what specifically could've killed him.]
[ and the stroking continues. the coil moves sinuously up, down, up, down, a squeeze. and it continues. only faltering when his fingers nudge between and beneath, sliding against slickness which has begun to drip towards the base of her tail.
oh?? he certainly is not a shy boy. her own gasp turns into a raspy laugh. ]
Mmmmmole.
oh?? he certainly is not a shy boy. her own gasp turns into a raspy laugh. ]
Mmmmmole.
[Truly, what is the point of telling a tale when all the clever bits have already been revealed-]
[BUT NO!! IT'S FINE!!! SHE'S HAVING FUN!!!!]
[Straightens again]
Indeed, I shouldn't be surprised that my wife would be so clever to jump! Straight to the heart of the mystery!!
[wheeze]
That is correct, my dear. He was struck quite fiercely in the head by none other than Silver Blaze himself. It was less a murder committed by his peers and simply a case of an animal acting in self-defense.
Indeed, I shouldn't be surprised that my wife would be so clever to jump! Straight to the heart of the mystery!!
[wheeze]
That is correct, my dear. He was struck quite fiercely in the head by none other than Silver Blaze himself. It was less a murder committed by his peers and simply a case of an animal acting in self-defense.
[It's all a pause at once, then, dizzying. He blinks, distracted by her stroking tail and her wet cunt and her words, trying the best he can to peer over and across at her.]
Oh.
[Moves his fingers away from her hole, then. Less embarrassed than he is owlish about the whole thing, and seeks her mole, instead.]
Oh.
[Moves his fingers away from her hole, then. Less embarrassed than he is owlish about the whole thing, and seeks her mole, instead.]
Nnno, no stopping now.
[ he can't precisely touch her mole without touching her rim, and vice versa. so this is whining just to whine. adoringly, she picks her fingers through his hair, curls a tuft of bang around one finger, tugs sllllllloooowly on his cock. ]
Very gentle.
[ he can't precisely touch her mole without touching her rim, and vice versa. so this is whining just to whine. adoringly, she picks her fingers through his hair, curls a tuft of bang around one finger, tugs sllllllloooowly on his cock. ]
Very gentle.
[He'd never expect such a thing! He just likes to impress her when he can.]
By following the tracks of both the trainer himself and the horse. Indeed, the tale itself unwound quite nicely with a bit of proper investigation; the sort that the police are oft to overlook. Let's see... Do you see anything else of note on the wax corpse, my dear?
[Perhaps the very small knife-like item in his hand?]
By following the tracks of both the trainer himself and the horse. Indeed, the tale itself unwound quite nicely with a bit of proper investigation; the sort that the police are oft to overlook. Let's see... Do you see anything else of note on the wax corpse, my dear?
[Perhaps the very small knife-like item in his hand?]
[It amounts to the same, he realizes, so she's likely just being fussy for the fun of it. Well. Who's he to complain? Sholmes has been known to do the same.]
A-Ahhh... [Tries to tease in return, but it's rather hard when she's stroking him so slowly like that. Unlike anything he's felt before, that tail of hers. A gentle ruck of his hips forward, as though to follow her tempo.]
You'll have to make up your mind. You're splitting my focus too far afield, otherwise...
[His fingertip circles her hole, gentle, slow, sometimes lingering when it nudges past her mole.]
A-Ahhh... [Tries to tease in return, but it's rather hard when she's stroking him so slowly like that. Unlike anything he's felt before, that tail of hers. A gentle ruck of his hips forward, as though to follow her tempo.]
You'll have to make up your mind. You're splitting my focus too far afield, otherwise...
[His fingertip circles her hole, gentle, slow, sometimes lingering when it nudges past her mole.]
[ how perfect... on her swell of a dreamy moan, ] Oh, I love this...!
[ surely the drug assists: lengthens her focus, holds her inside herself. the slowly slickening circles of his fingertip and the lightness of it. she begins to twitch in time. and his mouth on her cunt, the soft probing tongue, coating her and keeping her glistening... she pulls him deeper into her folds as though she's going to smother him there. everything couching him wet and musky and warm, ticklish damp curls, twinging muscles. ]
Have you any bottles which might fit...?
[ slow, lingering, coaxing pulls. another loop. another tug. ]
[ surely the drug assists: lengthens her focus, holds her inside herself. the slowly slickening circles of his fingertip and the lightness of it. she begins to twitch in time. and his mouth on her cunt, the soft probing tongue, coating her and keeping her glistening... she pulls him deeper into her folds as though she's going to smother him there. everything couching him wet and musky and warm, ticklish damp curls, twinging muscles. ]
Have you any bottles which might fit...?
[ slow, lingering, coaxing pulls. another loop. another tug. ]
Oh, indeed! And what might that something be?
[He's so pleasantly addled by all of it, her smell, her taste, that tail of hers that makes him moan against her cunt, that he cannot help but liken her twitching to that of playing an instrument. Little movements that make her writhe with each careful, yet indulgent, ministration of finger and tongue.
He barely registers her question. He wants her to keep tugging at him like that-]
Bottle?
[A wobbly exhale, lips curving. Hazy hazy...]
Are you not torturing something now that might fit better?
He barely registers her question. He wants her to keep tugging at him like that-]
Bottle?
[A wobbly exhale, lips curving. Hazy hazy...]
Are you not torturing something now that might fit better?
[ does he mean to suggest—? ]
Ha ha! You are not being permitted inside me, no...
Ha ha! You are not being permitted inside me, no...
[??? Without any real offense, but certainly with as much curiosity he can muster-]
Am I not your husband…? Or are you clinging to propriety because you and I are not yet wed?
[A funny concept, what with his face between her legs.]
Am I not your husband…? Or are you clinging to propriety because you and I are not yet wed?
[A funny concept, what with his face between her legs.]
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