His soft, strong fingers ran gently down slightly below my centre. He pushed me in all the ways I love to be pushed. He looks at me and I can't help but do what he commands, even if it is just to get a tidbit of information like his personal secretary.
Every night, I go to sleep and miss him. When I wake up, I tell him everything he needs to hear. I don't know what I'd do without him, and, better still, I don't know what he'd do without me. I love Sherlock Holmes, and while he has never shown it, I know he loves me, his BlackBerry.