OPEN POST; [ HERLOCK SHOLMES / TGAA ]

[retroductions]

(( hold you in my dreams ))

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[retroductions]

[Her hands rove, leaving a sensorial trail of warmth, and it feels good… Not even the ridge of an old scar beneath her palms, collected from old cases, from this version of Sholmes. He has not yet experienced them.

With greatest effort, he frees his arms. Tosses his shirt aside with minimal effort, and it ends up hanging off the edge of the chaise.]

There—

[Triumphant. She can now adore his frame, which is lithe and young and familiar to what she may remember.]

[velluminous]

[ tabula rasa.

taut and lithe... young, yes. the frame beneath is the same. the appeal now, though—

hha. without pausing, she starts pushing at his trousers, and her claws leave pink trails at his hips. this is not bared! ]

Hurry and stuff me full, Herlock. Herlock—

[ she likes prompting his blush ]

[retroductions]

[She's definitely seeing him blush, spreading so deeply and completely it's as though he were never a less erythristic color at all.

And how easy it would be to relax in the great effort of finally freeing himself of his clothes, to let his limbs feel heavy and weighed down by the ever-present lingering of the drug. But the sting at his hips is poignant, making each moment feel alive and eminent, each second existing only to press forward into the next and do as she says. To work quickly.

He wants to feel her wrapped around him; his clumsiness and experience are hardly ever barriers to experimentation, and this is nothing different. It's an awkward shuffle to arrange himself at just the right angle, sitting up just enough to grasp at his cock and align himself with her entrance, its head nudging up against her wet heat and pressing in. Hips pushing forward so that she might accept him.]

Ms Vaux— [Even something as plain as her name on his lips feels so lewd right now.] Let me feel the... the shape of you.

[velluminous]

[ yes yes yes yes yes!! the sound she makes now is one of exultation; relief at the pivotal moment finally coming to pass. it's wonderful. he's so good to her.

a little pressure, a push... he slips inside easy inches at a time. mmh, perfect union. ]

Here you are. Here you are—

[ one leg hiking up against the back of the chaise. grace and poise mean little when what she wants most is to have him hilted and straining inside. ]