The Science Of Seduction

Amelia wrapped her slip around her, tied it and sat down on her bed. She pulled out her pointé shoes, checked the fastenings and grabbed her leotard. She stuffed the lot in a loose canvas bag and made her way to the dance studio.

A few moments later Amelia was stretched out on the cold floor, flexing her legs and repeatedly banging the end of her ballet shoes into the floor. They hadn't been used in a while and the ends needed flattening. After five solid minutes the ends were sufficiently flattened. Amelia tightened her slip and began to fasten her shoes. She walked over to the CD player and switched on the first dance in 'Swan Lake' and began to move. She was surrounded by full length mirrors and took delight in correcting her posture, her standing, her balance. The familiar dull ache began in the base of her toes but she put it out of her mind. As the song reached its climax she relaxed into her stride. She was elegant, beautiful. She was – the sound of a door creaking and measured footsteps made her jump. She fell, landing on her side; pain rushing up her legs and her head connected with the floor. Light exploded in her vision and slowly she twisted, staring daggers at the person who dared interrupt her. Her eyes met his and time slowed. Sherlock Holmes stood in the open doorway, looking at her crumpled form. His eyes filled with concern and he stepped forward. He bent down and offered a hand. Amelia hissed with pain and accepted the offer. Her ankles were sore and her head throbbed but she'd be okay. Amelia changed to en pointe and turned away from him. She stretched her body down, extending her legs and testing for damage. She didn't care that he got a full view of her arse/underwear/long legs. Sherlock took a sharp breath in as her back bent. She stood up again, turned and took steps towards him.

"Don't interrupt me when I'm dancing. I could've broken something you idiot!" She came infinitesimally close to his face, tasting his breath and gauging his response. Her eyes were burning and his were wary. He was stiff. His hands were balled by his side, his head turned up and away slightly. "Good grief Sherlock Holmes...you reek of 'virgin'..." He flushed bright pink and stepped away quickly, his eyes suddenly angry at the crude insult. Amelia grabbed his tie and pulled him back; "But whoever said that was a bad thing..." He was trembling and a tiny bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. She whispered to him telling him to shut his eyes. He did so and Amelia turned her head and placed a tender kiss at the join of naked skin from his shoulder to his neck. He gasped; the sound was dry and rasping. She continued kissing up, following the line of straining tendons. Occasionally her tongue would wet the delicate skin. His gasps became groans of pleasure. Finally she reached his earlobe. Her teeth worried the skin, biting and sucking. Sherlock's knuckles were white and his knees were weak. She pulled away and looked straight at him. His pupils were wide, his cheeks flushed and she could clearly feel his arousal through the thin material of his trousers. His breathing was fast and he couldn't move.

"Wha-what are you doing...?" Amelia laughed. Pulling her long hair loose of its fastening. She shook her head and smiled at him, biting her lip. "Teaching you the science of seduction..." The studio was dark apart from the lighting above the mirrors. Amelia walked backwards, pulling him along by his tie. His mouth moved in protest but she ignored it. Her back touched the cool of the glass and she sighed in pleasure. Her tongue flicked across her lips making the boy infront of her whimper. Amelia pushed his blazer off his shoulders. Pulled his tie off and began unbuttoning his shirt. A cool, slender hand met hers and soft lips pressed themselves against her own. She grabbed his shirt pulling him flush against her body. She moaned into the kiss. Forcing his mouth open, brushing her tongue against his. His hips pushed into her and sparks flew down her spine. Her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt and finally reached their prize. His chest was perfect and unmarked. Smooth and burning with heat. She could feel his heart racing in time with hers. Heat of her own increased between her legs. She ached with need. She pulled away from the kiss, pulling her dance slip down over her shoulders, exposing her bare chest to him, her hands flat against the mirror. Sherlock stopped, he stared but was unsure of what to do. He'd never seen...before apart from in stupid magazines the immature lads passed around the dormitory. They were smooth, round and pert. Rising and falling as Amelia breathed. She looked straight at him, her voice dark with desire..."Touch..." her commands were simple yet pleading. Sherlock raised a hand, shaking as he did. His fingers were long and cool and as they met her tender skin Amelia took a sharp intake of breath. Her nipple swelled underneath his palm and she sunk down the mirror slightly, quite moans escaping her wanting lips. His other hand copied and her moans doubled tenfold. His hand explored the shape, felt the weight and his thumbs flicked over her hard tips. One hand began to wonder lower across her stomach. Loosening the fastening of her slip, letting it fall to the floor. She was left in her ballet shoes and her underwear. He traced the line of her hips, slipping over the top of her underwear. Amelia's back arched and she opened her mouth and moaned his name. He pulled her body closer to his, away from the mirror and fixed his lips to hers. Suddenly he was the one in control. He could feel the heat between her legs, the moisture of her arousal had soaked through the material. He began to rub very gently, slowly. Teasing her. Her body stiffened, the pleasure making her tremble. Her fingers dug into his bare back, scratching down. As she couldn't be vocal she expressed her pleasure through other means...he broke apart from her and groaned as the sparks of pain flared at his skin. She smiled, biting her lip as he gradually got faster. She pressed her lips to his ear, moaning ever so quietly and whispering, her voice husky; "I...want...more..." and more he gave her. He brought his hand up, running his finger around the edge of her underwear, slowly pulling them down, leaving her naked. His fingers returned, gently probing her wet entrance; "Yes...Sherlock...please..." The cool of his skin providing a blissful contrast to hers. Slowly, inch by tender inch he slid one finger inside her. Amelia's moans got louder as he added a second finger. Instinct made him curl his fingers upwards, easily finding that sensitive bud of nerves. Her hips bucked against his hand as he gently stroked. Blood pounded in her ears and her mind was blank. Her lips eagerly found his and their tongues entwined. Her internal muscles tightened around his fingers as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. He moved faster, entwining his free hand in her hair. Her legs began to shake and she weakened against him. She wrenched away from his lips and cried out his name as pleasure exploded from her heat outwards. Her body filled with stars and the familiar spasms of her climax rocked her body. Sherlock's breathing was erratic...he was in a state of shock. His own arousal throbbed in time with his heart as he studied the girl infront of him. Her hands curled and un-curled as her breathing reduced to whimpers and the rush of chemicals to her body subsided.

She brushed the hair out of her face and licked her lips. She kissed Sherlock again and whispered in his ear; "Lesson 1...Passed..." he blushed and crossed his arms over his body, realising his nakedness. Amelia laughed, and slowly dropped to her knees. Sherlock started; "A-Amelia...what are you doing...this time..." he swallowed, but did not protest as she un-buckled his belt. She unbuttoned his trousers, dropping the zip and pushing the offending item to the ground. Sherlock's pale features were graced with a blush the colour of Amelia's auburn hair as she gazed in delight at his erection. Her fingers teased him through the cloth of his boxers. He gasped and his body stiffened. "This really isn't...appropriate..." Amelia looked at him; "Shhh..." her fingers crept to the top of his underwear, pulling them down to join his trousers on the floor. She took his length in her hand and gripped ever so gently. Sherlock groaned and fought down the rush of pleasure. He went to open his mouth to protest but was quickly silenced as he felt heat and moisture caress the tip of his desire. He watched in ecstasy as she slowly took him into her mouth. He linked his fingers into her hair brushing it over her shoulders...just so he could watch her breasts bounce as her body and head did. The muscles in his legs tensed and deep, guttural moans made their way up from his chest. He rocked slightly, urging her to take more. She slid off him and looked up..."Sorry Mr Holmes...is that you asking for more?" He nodded..."Yes...please...more..." Amelia smiled and slid him all the way into her mouth. Her tongue painted patterns on the underside and one of her hands dipped lower and toyed with him...making him moan again...she gradually picked up pace, bringing her hand into the mix. Her head bobbed up and down, meeting with her hand in the middle. His breathing got faster and his grip in her hair got tighter. Suddenly, his voice quiet but meaningful; "Amelia...I'm...I'm..." and with those words he released into her mouth. She felt the warmth at the back of her throat. She felt the spasms of his climax and most of all she heard him moaning her name. Amelia pulled her head away, swallowing, savouring the sweetness and sank back to the floor. Sherlock joined her, breathing heavily. As Amelia sat she felt the burning in her chest as she studied his body. She felt the moisture again and blushed. He was muscular, but not to the extremes. His skin was the colour of milk and his curled fringe was damp with sweat. She moved closer to him. Placing her hands on her shoulders, she straddled him. A bell sounded in the distance, the sound was fuzzy as blood still pounded in her ears...this meant the whole school was at dinner. No one would disturb them. She kissed him and he looked surprised. He'd not noticed her moving. She was hovering above his still hard member, her hips swaying left to right. He knew in his mind he could go again. She'd started the chain. Fulfilled the fantasy he'd had about her since he'd first seen her. Sherlock and Amelia. His hands traced her face, down to her chest. Toying with her breasts again, dipping his head and suckling her nipples, gently biting and licking. She whimpered and moaned. Writhing underneath him, wanting more. His hands moved to her waist, her hips and to her thighs. He slowly lowered her down. She felt the pressure at her entrance...his voice was desperate, "Amelia...Amelia..." Suddenly a change of tone; "Amelia?" She opened her eyes and her vision cleared to see him leant over her, his face filled with concern. "Amelia. Are you alright?" She nodded, her face confused;

"What just happened? I swear we...we..."

Sherlock snorted; "We..what? I interrupted your dancing and you fell over, you banged your head and knocked yourself out. You've been out for about the last five minutes. Five minutes and 42 seconds to be precise. You were writhing about and kept moaning my name."

Amelia blushed. "I'm sorry...I had the strangest dream..." Sherlock shook his head. He helped her up, made sure she was okay and left. As the door swung shut behind him Amelia groaned in frustration. She picked up her things and left. As she walked down the corridor, the bell for dinner rang and the familiar screams and laughter echoed from the grounds. She ran to her room, ignoring the people around her. She had no friends in this place – there were only two people who cared. Well...make that one she thought bitterly as the door to her room came into view. She pushed the wood open and collapsed on her bed, crying and sobbing into her pillow. Her tears were of frustration more than true upset. After a few moments she turned over, lying on her back.

"Why, why, why! You're stupid Amelia, last time I checked the only boy you could think about was John! Get a grip on yourself! He has no interest in you at all, and neither does Sherlock..." Her on-going rant was interrupted by the vibrating of her phone. She looked at it. "1 New Message From John Watson 3" She opened it up and couldn't help laughing at the simplicity of its contents;

"John Watson is Single. Break up number 8. Give it a week and I'll be at her knees like a sick puppy. There's something so morally wrong about this. Tomorrow is our weekly town trip and I'd like to give you a tour of Aintree Village. I could do with a decent cup of coffee and some decent company. Yours sincerely, John Hunky Xxx

Amelia replaced her phone and scrabbled inside her bedside table, she pulled out her diary, retrieved her favorite pen and curled up under her covers and began to scrawl;

Dear Diary,

After having a highly inappropriate dream about reaching 1st,2nd and 3rd base (oh and very nearly 4th) with one Mr Sherlock Holmes after he knocked me out by interrupting my ballet...I have now proceeded to bag a date with his incredibly dishy best friend. He's promised me coffee and a tour round the village. Maybe the tour will turn into something more...I'd at-least expect a goodbye kiss. Anyway – the bitches 1-3 have returned. Cue floods of tears at the 8th break up of J.B, Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream, "He was never worth it anyway babes!" and best of all – "he'll be back before you know it" Oh if only they knew! *EVIL LAUGH*

Mrs Amelia Watson...Mrs Amelia Holmes...

Goodnight xx

Fine.

Authors Note: Previously reviewing the chapters - i realise there are some issues with time. Amelia has currently been at her new school a week - so please excuse the typos - I am not, as some of you may believe, Doctor Who. I'd really like some reviews, so hopefully - this rather saucy chapter will help ;) Enjoy!