A/N: I totally intended for this to be much much longer but I found that it didn't need it - not just yet. Maybe later it'll be extended into a full blown smut but I like this snapshot, review and tell me if you do to!
Enjoy!
"Sherlock, you're a pervert." Molly groaned, hurling a pillow at her wayward beau.
"Undoubtedly." He grinned. "But you look beautiful so can I?" He raised the camera aloft and Molly nodded with a dramatic huff. Obediently she burrowed her head and let Sherlock photograph her post-coital form.
Since dating Sherlock, she had discovered a number of his kinks. This included him taking erotic photos that he would then post to tumblr, of all places. Like the detective wasn't popular enough on there, he actually had his own secret tumblr. At first she had been mortified at the prospect of her naked body being splashed all over a page of the internet and had downright refused. Sherlock had accepted her decision with a kiss, without a complain but he had ignited Molly's curiosity.
Furtively, away from Sherlock's gaze Molly had researched and quickly found her discoveries arousing. The anonymous exhibitionism was heady and thrilling. There was a sophistication she hadn't expected – it wasn't crude or porny, which was what she had expected and feared but many of the blogs were intimate and elegant.
That was how she came to be in bed on a Sunday morning with her red arse under the inspection of Sherlock's camera.
She had to admit, she enjoyed preening under his hungry stare, she liked him capturing her with her hands bound behind her back, or on her knees head bent, or spread out on his sheets. This pose was demure, her arse slightly lifted while she was tangled in the bed clothes.
Molly didn't lift her head when she heard the camera set down on the table beside her. She didn't react as the bed dipped beneath his weight, instead she allowed him to roll her onto her back and mewed slightly as he captured one of her nipples between his teeth and the other between his fingers.
"Make love to me Sherlock." She whimpered.
"Gladly." He growled and Sunday morning soon passed into Sunday afternoon without the lovers knowing.