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Désir Bruyant

Summary:

Holmes had known when he bought this how much we would both like it.

Notes:

For Watson's Woes July Writing Prompt #11.

Work Text:

“I am afraid I cannot oblige you,” said Holmes.

It was not utterly a surprise - he had not initiated for a week now, and he had had such states before, frequently. But I could not keep him from seeing the disappointment on my face. He squinted at me, and then smiled. “I suggest you use the device I picked up for you in Paris.”

“Oh,” said Mary. “Oh, John, you could have said that was what you wanted.” I bit my lip and felt Mary slide off the bed behind me.

“At least you aren’t so absorbed in your work that you won’t be sleeping,” I said to Holmes.

“I have nothing much to be absorbed in,” he said. “All they bring me is mechanical work - there’s no challenge. If I could be absorbed in you two instead I would be, trust me.”

“Help me with this,” Mary commanded, and I rolled over to do up her buckles. She could have managed it herself, I knew, but this way the device, as Holmes had called it, bobbed directly in front of my face, and she could look down on me and pet my hair. When I had finished and the leather was perfectly embracing her hips she tilted so her cock brushed against my lips, and I sucked on the end. She gasped quietly. I looked up to see her breasts above me. Holmes had known when he bought this how much we would both like it.

Mary pulled on my hair to take my mouth off her, and directed me onto my hands and knees. I heard her going through a drawer, and unscrewing a jar, and tried not to shake with impatience. I wanted it now - indeed, I had wanted it now for some hours.

Mary’s fingers started, not slow but gentler than I wanted, and I told her so. She laughed. “You can be patient,” she said. “Think what Sherlock would say if I hurt you.”

I glanced over at him, lying on his side beside us, and he smirked a little, but though he was watching my face I didn’t think he’d be providing any assistance. Mary pressed in another finger at last and I buried my head in the pillow as she tested me. Another minute and I’d have what I wanted, I told myself.

Mary pulled her fingers out of me and I felt my body shift towards her, absolutely out of my control. I turned my face away from Holmes - he’d seen me like this dozens of times, there was no reason for shyness, but I liked it, liked not knowing whether he was watching, or with what emotion. He wouldn’t judge me for it, but I could imagine he was, if I couldn’t see him.

I heard Mary’s hands slide more Vaseline over her leather prick and arched my back, feeling my cock harden further. “Now,” I said. “Please now.” Mary’s dry hand closed on my hip.

Now that I was ready for her, she didn’t tease, as Holmes sometimes did. She lined herself up, and then mounted me at once, and her now free hand landed with the full force of her weight on my good shoulder, pressing me down under her. “That’s it,” she said as I moaned, and began to thrust.

I knew she felt some pleasure from the pressure of the dildo against her, but rarely enough to bring her off. Which meant, of course, that she could focus better on me. I didn’t know how she managed to turn her weight into such a force, but she braced herself over me and gave it to me hard and fast as I wanted it, holding me down and in place for her. I clutched the pillow, and then pressed a hand against the headboard when that was not enough. The bed shook with Mary’s thrusts. I glanced back and saw her face, full of concentration, and her small breasts bouncing with her motion.

I twisted one arm and reached for myself, unbalancing my weight and pushing my face against the pillow. Mary leaned forward and I whimpered at the change in angle, my hand dropping to the blankets before I’d touched myself at all. “Go on,” she said. “Go on, bring yourself off, John, no one’s going to do it for you.” Her fingernails dug little points of pain into my shoulders. I took hold of my prick and let her fuck me into my own grip, feeling the stretch inside me and the slap of her skin and the leather of the harness on my arse. She was tilting her hips with each stroke now, as she did sometimes when she was very aroused and trying for more sensation, and I thought I could hear her between my own moans. I could feel my climax starting, and I tried to slow down, to draw this out longer, but Mary wouldn’t slow. She moved a hand back to my hip and gripped me tight enough I was sure it would bruise and that was it, I was coming and burying my cries in the pillow and feeling her still going through it.

When I slumped and let my hand fall off my prick Mary pulled away carefully, and I heard the faint jingle of her removing the harness. Then she lay next to me, fingers already rubbing herself, and pressed her face and chest against me, kissing me open-mouthed. “John,” she gasped, “John. Oh, you, oh, you looked -”

She came off screaming behind bitten lips, and relaxed. She wrapped her arms around me, kissing any skin in front of her lips, and I shook my head and came back to myself enough to begin kissing her back. Her hands slid down my back gently, and she tucked my head beneath her chin for a moment.

“Up,” she said eventually, “come.” She manoeuvred us under the blankets.

“Holmes?” I asked, half turning but not having the energy to complete the motion.

Mary glanced past me. “I believe he’s fallen asleep.”

“Rocked like a babe in the cradle,” I said, laughing against her shoulder.