This is M rated through and through! A smutty one-shot that came to me whilst swimming on holiday. Not sure what that says about me...but anyway, I hope you enjoy it.
'Oh God', Sherlock's eyes rolled and his head fell back as his senses were almost overwhelmed. At that exact moment he couldn't for the life of him recall or care how he had ended up with Molly Hooper's mouth wrapped around his cock, all he knew was that he didn't want it to end.
He lifted his head and looked down at this almost unbelievable sight. Molly was slowly and deliciously sucking him off. He watched as her mouth slid down his twitching erection; her hand wrapped around the base of his shaft gently squeezing him. She came back up and he almost, almost slid completely out of her oh so warm mouth before she lowered herself once more; a moan from her throat vibrating down the length of him. The sight and feel of her made his balls tighten and he had to look away, had to renew his grip on the arms of his chair to stop himself from coming too quickly. He was enjoying this far too much to want it to end.
He heard someone swearing and realised it was himself, 'fuck, fuck, fuck.'
Molly's eyes flicked up and he saw her cheeks hollow out before she took him once more. He could feel her teeth sliding down his shaft and the awareness of the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat. How was she not gagging? He thought before his mind shifted to all the other sensations and feelings tugging at his consciousness.
He loosened his grip on the chair and moved his hands to her hair. It took a Herculean effort to not thrust his hips up driving himself into her hot, wet mouth but he needed to do something to slow things down even if that meant losing the sweet sensation of her lips and tongue on him.
He found her shoulders and at the same time as he sat himself up he moved her backwards and away from his overwrought cock. She released him with a groan and a wet slapping sound that had him biting his lip and breathing heavily to calm himself down.
He bent his head to hers and caught her mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue already exploring her, tasting his own pre-cum on her tongue.
His now neglected erection bounced and twitched desperate for some kind of friction and attention and Sherlock moved the two of them forwards until Molly was lying on her back on the carpet, in the front room if Baker St, with Sherlock's heated body covering hers. His hips were bucking and thrusting against her and he felt her legs part to accommodate him, her hands starting to pull at his clothes wanting to feel his skin.
He felt dizzy from lack of oxygen and knew he needed to break off from kissing her to get a proper intake of air but his mouth didn't want to leave her. Instead he kissed along her jaw and down her neck absorbing in his mind all those small gasps and moans coming from her as he did. He had never felt such a primal, jealous, possessive desire as the one which was washing over him right now. He sucked and bit on the skin at the base of her neck until he saw an angry red mark had appeared.
As he moved down her neck he felt her hands tangle into his hair. His own hands made swift work of her blouse; though he may possibly have ripped off two or three buttons in the process. At this moment he just didn't care. He was glad to see his deduction about her being braless had been correct as he let his palms encompass the beautiful mounds of her breasts. He could feel her heart racing at his touch and knew his own was correspondingly accelerated.
He could wait no longer and he moved his mouth and tongue over each of her hardened nipples, alternating between sucking and lightly biting, learning from her sounds which action she enjoyed the most, letting her reactions teach him how to play her body. She arched her back pushing herself against him and pulled once more on his hair. It sent such a ripple of shockwaves across his scalp, he didn't quite know if it was pleasurable or painful but he thought for a moment he might either come or pass out or possible both; and just like that he needed to be inside her, needed to be fucking her, making her his.
She seemed to instinctively sense the shift in his focus and for a few seconds they broke apart shedding whatever clothing they needed too to move things along. He saw Molly remove what was left of her top and quickly slide her knickers down her slim legs and off her feet. Sherlock removed his jacket and shirt and he started to take off his trousers pushing them down enough to release himself fully. He was about to remove them completely but Molly was already pulling on his arms urging him back to her.
She lay back with her skirt rucked up around her hips and almost immediately he felt her hand wrap around him guiding him to her entrance. She didn't seem to want any more foreplay or delay; she just wanted him inside her and he was happy to oblige.
He slowed as he pushed into her; partially to give her time to adjust to him physically but also for him to mentally prepare himself. It had been years since he had had sex with another person and he'd almost forgotten just how good it actually felt.
She was warm and tight, wet and slick. She was perfect. As he reached the limits of her body and his he held himself inside her enjoying the pure physical sensation of being buried deep inside her. He felt, in that moment, a blissful happiness that had previously in life evaded him. She wriggled slightly underneath him, her hands pressing and pulling on his backside and he groaned as he carefully pulled out of her before slowly sliding back in.
It was an excruciating pace and he could feel her fingernails scraping up his back; her body moving with his. He lifted his head from her neck to look at her and she used one hand to catch his face and pull him to her for a kiss. They let their tongues slide against each other mirroring the way that Sherlock was moving against her; a calm before the imminent storm.
He could sense from her movements that her orgasm wasn't far off. Her hands returned to his backside and she broke off the kiss to nip and bite at his neck; her voice and actions all urging him to go deeper, to move faster. He altered his angle slightly, remembering how to use his body to further stimulate her and within a few short minutes she was crying out his name, her nails clawing for grip on his skin pulling his own climax from him.
He lost himself within her feeling his seed pulsing out of him as his mind burst into a blinding whiteness and his body thrust into her as far as was humanly possible. All there was was Molly, she was all he had ever wanted and all he would ever want.
He collapsed on top of her aware that he was possibly crushing her but not having any control over his mind or muscles to do anything but lie in her embrace. Her hands dancing in light circles on his skin; her mouth kissing his shoulder. Gradually, as he came back to himself and he rolled to the side so they were lying facing each other. He saw how she coloured up and started to avoid his gaze and it made him frown. She was what? Embarrassed about what they had just done? No, worried? Regretful? Oh! He suddenly got it. She was worried HE would regret it.
He brought his hand up to her face moving the sweaty tendrils of hair off her cheek as he cupped it. At his touch she looked up at him, almost shyly, and he kept his eyes locked with hers as he bent to gently kiss her lips. He didn't care how they had got here or why he just knew they had and it felt so right.
MWMWMWMWMWMWMW
It was almost twelve hours later when Mary Watson was cleaning up after the night before that she realised just how much wine and port had been consumed the previous evening.
'John...John, how much wine do you reckon you drank?' She asked her husband who was playing with their baby daughter on the rug in the living room.
He shrugged and called back, 'not too much, I had a bit of a headache so I stopped after a couple of glasses. Why?'
Mary came in holding up three empty bottles, 'well, it's just I only had one glass so it seems Molly and Sherlock somehow got through over two bottles between them, let alone the half empty port bottle in the kitchen.'
John laughed, 'well, I have to admit, I did think Sherlock was a bit tipsy. Hope they both got home OK. They were sharing a cab weren't they?'
'Yes,' said his wife as she turned away. She bit her lip and smiled to herself as she wondered just what might have happened the night before.
A bit of smutty nothingness. I hope you liked it.