finalflight | OPEN POST; [ HERLOCK SHOLMES / TGAA ]

It isn't ridiculous. [He is sure of that. Meeting her gaze, she will see that certainty beyond the fog of the opium.] What time I did not spare for you in the future, you are to receive it now.

[ hasn't she given him utterly the wrong idea? ]

Then... [ oh, but he is too sweet. his earnestness, even now... ah, all over again it is clear why she fell for him. she leans in and kisses him square in the middle of his forehead, lingering. ] What does Herlock Sholmes wish to do to his poor, longing wife?

[The heat still rolls of his face, despite it all.]

Whatever his poor, longing wife wants. I will put in the effort. You need only ask.

[She had a veritable laundry list before, did she not?]

Oh. Rybka. [ a long, low inhale. she nuzzles at his brow. ] Hold me, then, and sleep.

[Warm, warm. Comfortable.]

Is that truly what you desire?

I've upset you.

[A slow shake of his head.]

No. I am not upset at you, but only at myself. And now I am endeavoring to do better for myself — and for you.

[ ... entirely the wrong idea, yes.

she is quiet. rolls them both so he is beneath her, and she on her elbow above. ]

Give yourself grace. There is much yet to pass.

[And suddenly, she is above and he is below. What a dizzying motion. What a beautiful sight, too.]

And thus, plenty of time to... improve.

Mmh.

[ as she crawls up and wordlessly straddles his face. there is no waiting; her legs tremble with the effort and she settles her weight down upon him in the same motion. ]

[Oh.]

Mmph-?!

[A noise of surprise, not knowing what she's doing until she is square atop his face, his lips buried against her cunt and his nose taking in her scent, just as close.

She's so bold, she knows exactly what she wants— And Sholmes is determined, albeit a bit hazily, to give her precisely that. Give him a moment to adjust to the surprise, though, but soon after, his tongue darts out to taste her, parting her folds to make room.]

[ he will taste her, and he will taste himself. Sprezzatura, crumpled down over him, curls close so she can play her fingers through his hair, lay her cheek upon the pillow just above his head.

murmuring, still, ] Will you swallow what leaks out of me?...

[Yes, he can, the taste of himself and the taste of her intermingling.

His reply is just to lick deeper, longer, as though to catch every bit for his taste buds to assess. He will plumb her completely if he must.

But if she needs a vocal affirmation, he can get a muffled-]

Mm-hm.

[-while his gaze seeks her, even if she is a bit too high above him to meet her eyes.]

[ too high, and curled over him so that her navel and chest are bare centimeters from his face; every fold of fat and every stretch mark well visible, and the shivering muscles of her stomach as it tenses and relaxes, tenses and relaxes, in response to his kiss.

her voice, faded but lilting with an odd curiosity, ] Are you—is your tongue inside me?

Mmph-hm.

[yes]

[ she

really loves the idea of that. if only he had a tongue like hers...

in answer, she wriggles her hips firmly from side to side, which will move his head in tandem. left, right, left, right, left, right, center. a good, heavy weight like she is trying to get his tongue as far up there as possible.

which.

she is. ]

[Alas, he only has an unimpressive human tongue, but for what it’s worth? He really does try to see how deeply he can wiggle and lick into her, and—

Oh, the weight of her. Forceful, moving him in a wiggle, like she’s trying to get him up as far as he can manage. It’s… erotic. It isn’t uncomfortable, either; he can still breathe just fine.

And what can he do, really, than try to lave and push against her walls? Well. As far as his tongue can travel, anyway. A far cry from his fingers, or his cock, but it’s there and present, warm and alive in her cunt.]

[ she likes it. his nose presses into her mons, and his breath fans across her nethers, and his tongue is warm and it is alive, and the sound of it moving in her is obscene enough to thrill through the opium haze. she likes that, too. the pleasure tingles throughout her spine, and she curls closer around him. practically cocooning about his head. ]

Stroke my tail...

[The opium has sometimes been a hindrance, but other times an elevation. See: right now. As much as she presses down, and as heady and lurid as this all is, there is still a pleasantness to the rhythm of his tongue that is nearly meditative. Relaxing. The fact that he is the one reclining lends to this feeling.

If he thinks about it as trying to clean himself from her, completely, then he's presented with a goal, too, to keep him focused. Every little drop, his tongue moving as much as it can inside of her. Its tip... seeking.

One hand up to her hip, just to find purchase anywhere. The other does as requested, finding the base of her tail and stroking down along its length with gently prising fingers.]

[ like this. like this, like this, like this... she grinds her hips slowly back and forth—crowding his nose and then down across his chin, smearing her wet. over, over, over again. she finds it incredible difficult to tell that his tongue is inside her; there is only the sound to guide her, and the nudge of his mouth, and the occasional titillating thrill that is that warm muscle tugging and curling just within her cunt.

her tail flutters and twitches in his hand. ]

And my hole—...

[ the one she wouldn't let him sodomize. ]

[His tongue works, slipping in and out by the merest centimeters as she grinds against him. His face will be a right mess by the end of this; with each pass he feels as though she might drench him, a hyperbole that doesn’t feel so farfetched when her slick is mixing with his own saliva for his efforts.

Her hole… Right, the one she denied him.

He will lift his other hand, then, as he raises up her tail and gropes to press his fingertip against her hole. There, he finds that soft skin and slowly rubs in a circle, feeling her out.

Again, eloquently-]

Mmmhh.

[ oh, yes. he is fast becoming her favourite (he was already her favourite). shudders out a breath as he lifts her tail, for it feels a new kind of naughty to have him do so. ]

Ah—... da, right there. Press on it, as though to open...

[ laying right... down over and atop him. she is shaking too much to hold herself upright anymore. ]

Move your mouth back up.

[Take that, future him!

Weight shifts, and she's over him, but the most it does for Sholmes is obscure his vision more in shadow. It hardly matters — he is keen to follow her instructions, keen to please, nearly pliant thanks to the drug itself. And so the tip of his finger presses in, slowly, compelling her to open up for him. She's so warm here, so soft.

Meanwhile, his mouth complies too, tilting his head up so move his mouth in tandem. She will lose the nudging of his tongue between her folds, though, because he is assuming she'd like more attention given to her clit.]

[ mmmh, that is precisely what she wants. some sweet kissing at her clitoris, which seems to strain and twitch in imitation of—different anatomy. she moans long, low, loud into the bedspread above his head. twitchy, too, where his fingertip nudges.

he's so eager. he's so eager. that's all she can think: he is so eager, so eager, so eager, so eager. he'll do anything to her that she asks! starts mussing up his hair, and everything is trembly and urgent. her stomach muscles tensing and untensing where they rest against his forehead. ]

Don't stop—

[So, so, so eager. Like he wants to prove something, like he only wants to please her, this woman who will be his future wife. Why shouldn’t he strive to do his best? Why shouldn’t he excel, to bring her the kind of pleasure he feels against his tongue and lips right now? The twitch of her stiffened clit, mirrored in the hug of the muscles around his finger, too.

His hair’s a lost cause, but he’s not even thinking about that. Only the obvious clench and unclenching of her muscles, felt so keenly. The urgency is just as potent — he would love to make her come.

Sucks harder at her, kissing so generously. His finger presses in more, his first knuckle swallowed up if it hadn’t been already.]

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