OPEN POST; [ HERLOCK SHOLMES / TGAA ]

[retroductions]

(( hold you in my dreams ))

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[velluminous]

[ no, she does not. presses her own thighs together as if to ward off the sudden throb of heat in between. she tries to be subtle about it, but there is no subtlety to Sprezzatura Vaux on an opium high.

takes some effort, but she props up on her elbow. ]

I borrow yours.

[ can he hear the breathy note coming into her tone? ]

[retroductions]

[He’s Herlock Sholmes. Of course he does. He notes the effort of her thighs squeezing together, that note in her voice, the way her nightgown droops just enough for him to peer… at her clavicle. Lower, the way the fabric frames the fullness of her chest.]

Is that what you want?

[The words spill out slowly despite the tempo in his own chest.]

Just to smoke?

/2

[velluminous]

[ she shouldn't. ]

[velluminous]

[ but she will! ]

I want you whimpering in my lap.

1/2

[retroductions]

[Ah, yes, he thought so. He's still so clever, despite the drug, coming quickly to these conclusions. He was right. He's aaaaaaAAAAAAAAA]

[retroductions]

And h... how does one begin to make that a reality?

[velluminous]

[ she is so singular and exceptional to him, even now! not being inclined towards romance and sexual urges, he still wants to know how—how can he ensure his morning ends mewling in her arms?

her chest gets unfathomably tight. the drug does little to keep her heart slow when it has such a keen new reason to beat quickly. ]

First— [ she's going to kiss his pretty lips swollen. no, she's going to wring him dry. no, she's going to teach him how to lick her cunt as though he's drowning in it. ] ...you climb into my lap.

[ the act of pulling herself halfway sitting, slumped back in the very corner of the chaise where the back and arm are highest, makes her arms tremble. muscle like pulled taffy. ]

[retroductions]

[Maybe they're being too ambitious, hoping they can move their bodies around with any real efficacy while in this foggy daze. But the blood pumping hotly through his veins helps; the desire to learn what she can teach him, giving into the desire for knowledge (and the lesser-known desire of his sexual urges, being prodded awake from their usual dormant slumber), helps him situate himself just enough so that...

...he climbs. A bit clumsily into her lap. Half-strewn, legs bent just enough to bracket her on either side, and one might call this a proper sit if he weren't half slumped forward, too.

And finally, he does lose grip on his pipe. It rolls off the cushion and clatters to the ground.]

Ah, we can... finish smoking after.

[they're already so blasted they probably don't need more]

[velluminous]

[ oh, she feels good. some latent urge takes hold of her then, that yearning to be held by her husband, so she snakes both arms around him and tugs his face down into the crook of her neck, where her pulse thunders and the smell of burning is strong. ]

You are so gorgeous man.

[ that squeeze, her tail in a tourniquet about his thigh, ripples in search of... the side he lays himself against when he dresses in the morning. to coil around that thigh, and just beneath that swell. she won't jump straight to touching between his legs, but she'll tease close while they hesitate and blush through the first kiss. ]

[retroductions]

[Even so, the suggestion of her tail so very, very high up his thigh makes him simply more aware of how close it is to between his legs proper. Which, in turn, makes heat flush down to that exact area — what isn't already accosting his face, anyway.

Pulled in close, practically a hug. His hands experimentally find themselves resting on her sides, uncertain of himself. Bones feel limp, muscles, too, but his eyes are wide, his face buried against her neck.

She smells like his chemistry sets and experimentations, depending on the day. Sulfuric, burning. A strange comfort, given its associations.]

I... You flatter me. You are the one with features worthy of... note. Aplenty.

[velluminous]

[ he must be fascinated. most human lovers would be—have been. he was.

she closes her eyes, exhales softly and unsteadily down his collar, and rubs the side of her face up the side of his. long, slow, skin smooth on skin. all her usual grace and sensuality has been dissolved in the opium high; motions now clumsy, but heartfelt. ]

Would you like to touch them?

[retroductions]

[Ohh, feels good. That point of contact, enhanced by the opium. Wiggles a bit against her as she smooths against his face, just as languid and graceless as she. Fingers flexing into her sides.]

Yes. [Breathed out, easily. Of course he's fascinated by them. All of them.] If you'd like that. Your horns, your tail, your...

[Trails off. Everything.]

[velluminous]

[ his wiggling sends skiffs of pleasure up and down her back, makes her face warm. without thought, she brings her knees up slightly; tucks him closer to her body; cages him between her thighs and her chest, with that wonderful growing stiffness up against her. she pretends not to notice it. ]

I love my horns to be touched. And my tail.

[ the way she's mashed herself into the corner of the back and arm of the chaise means he cannot get at the place she likes best, right where it joins to her body, but... maybe later. for now, she and he both need the support.

draws her nails up to his nape, nice and slow so that goosebumps will rise, and turns her face right behind his ear, where his hair is so carefully done. inhales slow and deep and scents him. ]

Mmmmmm.

[retroductions]

[She may note that, besides the slightly stronger scent of pomade to keep his hair so much neater than in the future and the now-present tinge of opium, he smells exactly as she’ll remember.

He’s probably never not going to be flushed, but he does relax by small degrees the longer he remains draped against her, tension flooding out slowly — maybe awkwardness will be soon to follow but not. Quite yet.]

Your tail…

[Of course he goes for the tail first; but in this case, it’s not just because all my blond twins love her tail. The excess effort to sit up is slightly more difficult than simply reaching out to where her tail moves next to them, fingers curing close to its soft tuft.]

How dexterous is it?

[Maybe he already has the answer, what with it curled around his thigh.]

[velluminous]

[ in that case, a small moan of relief, nearly subvocal—nearly. she strangles it down, and tries to keep it inside, but nevertheless it sounds, and when he touches her tail, Sprezzatura sucks in her breath.

eyes closing, she smiles. ]

For me—and this is not always so—it is... another hand. With... all those same sensitivities.

[retroductions]

[He hears it; she wasn’t lying when she said she liked it.

And, with a response that can only be blamed on a drug-addled mind, he says as he rubs the pad of his thumb up and down that part of her tail-]

It’s as though we’re holding hands right now.

[velluminous]

Da. [ breathy exhale, breathy inhale. drug-addled, perhaps, but correct. ] If you had tail, also, we would wind them together. As with fingers laced...

[retroductions]

[…He uses his other hand to… seek her own hand.

As if to make up for the suddenly frustrating notion that he has no tail.]

[velluminous]

[ too sweet. sentiment like that... why does he seem so convinced he lacks a way with others? in answer, a warm squeeze. and around his thigh, as well, the ripple of strong muscle, as if to say that his gesture has affected her. it has. ]

Lapochka... [ again, nuzzling her face against the side of his, though now her mouth is so much closer to his. she wants... to kiss him... ] You're shaking.

[ even if he's not. ]

[retroductions]

What? Surely not.

[Shudders out a warmth breath. Shakily.]

It’s merely anticipation.

[This logic makes sense to him in his head right now, and he shifts even closer—if it’s even possible—as he feels her tail ripple. Gives the part he’s touching a little squeeze, then slips it upwards to feel the tuft. He finally turns his face to look at her, eyes darkened slightly, but ever searching.]

[velluminous]

[ all he's doing by moving in her lap now is pressing his burgeoning erection into the softness of her belly. which... she likes. she likes it a lot. makes her tight between her legs. ]

Ohh.

[ still, she's clumsy and opium-heavy. her head lists back on the chaise, granting them both the fragile space in between to breathe, she gazes up at him those few inches.

smiles. ]

Have you kissed women before?

[retroductions]

[He isn’t aware of the growing stiffness between his legs pressing into her, though he very well should. But all of him feels so molten; a current of anticipatory electricity pulsing through every nerve.

What a question. She’s so close, it feels like answering it might end in an accidental kiss, anyway.]

Nothing… nothing like this, no. Playground tomfoolery hardly counts.

[velluminous]

[ she's ♥️ the first ♥️ ]

In that case... [ lifts her chin just a little more—a peck on the tip of his nose. mwah! ] Hahaha...

[retroductions]

[Wow she really did finagle her way into being the first via timewarp—

It’s just a little kiss. Innocent by all counts were they both not in such compromising positions.

But oh, how his back straightens and how he flushes even a deeper hue of red. His heart beats all the way up his ears.]

…

Again.

[velluminous]

[ and this is why it is so satisfying to be the older woman. she puts her free hand to the side of his neck, cupping the flittering pulse, and glances a second kiss off the cut of his jaw, nearly the cheek.

like this? ]

Let me taste you.