Mary sank into the kiss. Her fingers daring to tickle at the fine hair at the nape of his neck. James' fingers found a purchase on Mary in much the same place.
"You taste beautiful." James said, pressing a sloppy kiss to the inside of Mary's thigh. She whimpered in protest at the sudden loss of contact between his tongue and her clit.
It had been a long time since Mary had let herself be this vulnerable with a man. Sherlock had been right; there hadn't been anyone since her final break up with John worth seeing a shiny new pair of knickers let alone being able to slide them off from her.
James' was relentless; pushing against her with the very tip of his tongue in fast, anti-clockwise circles. He had only been at it for a minute, maybe two at most, and already Mary was panting wildly, her fingers itching at her breasts to dig into his hair. When he flattened his tongue against the entire expanse of her clitoris and labia, she did dig her fingers in, her manicured nails scratching at his scalp. He drove his tongue into her pussy next, and she moaned with an arch of her hips off the coffee table she had been laughing on, the edge digging into the small of her back.
James lifted his head for a breath, kissed at her thighs again, and slid his hands up her body to squeeze her nipples between his fingers. Then he was back in her again, fucking her with his tongue as expertly as she imagined he could wish his cock. He thrust his tongue up and down; in and out. He pushed against her belly with one strong arm, holding her down while her body fought to rise against it. With his other hand, he worked a finger furiously at her clit, and Mary was lost.
She writhed, and she felt the sweat tickling from her back, down the underside of her thighs. It had been so long since she had come from just this. Even if she had let someone else get to this point, her experience had been that going down on her was just a way to get her ready to be fucked; almost done as a favour to her in lieu of using cold, lifeless lubricant. But James showed no signs of leaving her hanging on the edge of orgasm; he wasn't even undressed, save his shoes and the jacket he had taken off earlier.
"Oh, God." She called out to the ceiling above her. She was close; so close, and could feel herself starting to be consumed.
James lifted his arm off her belly, took his finger out of her, and replaced it with the thick of his tongue. Mary's hips immediately bucked into his face; she knew she had to be suffocating him, but all she needed was a little more.
James sucked and lapped, and pushed, and at one point, she thought he even bit her a little. And then she fell off the cliff, banging delightfully against the rock hard walls as she went.
"Fuck- oh, God- Jesus- James!"
He didn't abandon her right away, but slowed his pace to almost non existent while Mary collected her breath, and tried to come back to herself. When he did sit back, bum resting against his calves where he had been kneeling in front of her, he cracked his neck to either side, and wiped his mouth against the sleeve of his shirt.
"Alright?" He asked.
"Amazing." Mary answered, and slithered off the table, so she was kneeling just in front of him.
"I'm feeling a bit underdressed." She said, reaching out and undoing the buttons of James' shirt. He watched her, unbuttoned his cuffs, and let her slide the shirt from his shoulders.
He was quite exquisite under all those expensive threads. He stood, unfastening the buckle of his belt, and unzipping his flies. Mary stayed where she was, rising directly on her knees when James did away with his trousers. He had left on his tight, black boxer brief combination, and Mary immediately slipped her fingers just underneath the waistband, as she mouthed kisses around and underneath his navel. He groaned, low and deep at the feeling of her lips against his skin, and Mary smiled against him. She tugged at his pants, freeing the erection she knew had been trapped inside for quite some time.
Damn, he had control over himself.
Mary took him in her hands first; closer around his circumference, her small fingers not quite wrapped back around to one another. She flicked her wrist as she twisted her first, and James moaned again. Mary swiped a finger across the tip, gathering pre-come and using it as lube.
"You are amazing." James said, reaching fingers down to her chin to tip her face towards him.
His cheeks were beginning to flush, his chest rising up and down just a bit faster than what she would have expected as normal. He still looked very much the calm man in control Mary had quickly learned he was, but slowly, she was making him come undone.
"Thank you." She said, and tightened her grip with a flick of her wrist.
Mary had every intention of taking James into her mouth; tasting him, letting him come down her throat if he wanted to, but James seemed to have something else in mind. He batted her hand away, wrapped his fingers around her wrist, and quite nearly flipped her over onto her hands and knees in the middle of the living room floor. She gasped in surprise at the sudden change, and gasped again when she felt him unceremoniously push into her, and his fingers dig deep into her hips, pulling her back against him.
Mary counted being shagged from behind among the handful of things she hated, but right in that moment, it felt incredibly delicious. She didn't know if it was the angle he had her pushed into, the way that his nails were quite nearly drawing blood, or the string of curses he was yelling into the flat, but she felt amazing; filthy, and beautiful.
She could tell that he was going to come soon- it was always easy to tell when a man was on the verge- and Mary, quite badly, wanted to come again; with him. She pressed two fingers against herself, and circled and pushed while James kept thrusting into her. She wasn't completely aware when he pulled out of her until she felt a warm, wet sensation against her back. She hadn't come yet, and was working wildly at herself when James, still recovering from his orgasm leaned over her, pushing his sticky mess between their two sweating bodies, and laid his fingers over Mary's; adding more force and ferocity to her shameless wanking.
"That's it, Mary." He said, low in her ear. "Come for me again." He rocked against her; his cock teasing at the cleft of her arse.
She made a sound that could only be described as a whinge, and James kissed at her neck, still following the pattern her fingers were making with his own.
Mary did come again. Loudly, almost painfully, and gorgeously. James kept her fingers pinned down; moving them to the point of over sensitization, as Mary kept screaming through the orgasm that should have ended, but she didn't bat him away- she didn't cry out for him to stop. She wanted to be completely consumed by him, like no one had ever consumed her before.
"I had a nice time, tonight." Karen said to Greg as they approached the doorstep of the flat they used to share.
"Did you?" Her smile was big and hopeful, and a bit more sincere than Greg had seen in a while, but all the optimism held on her face couldn't bring Greg to answer how he knew she wanted to hear.
"Did I have a nice time on my scheduled date with my wife?" He asked, and her smile immediately faded into the more sour expression he had gotten used to over the years.
"Yes, Greg. Did you enjoy the restaurant and the music; my company?"
"I did, yes."
"But-?"
"But I am your husband, and you had to pencil me in around gallery openings, and...dates!"
"I didn't pencil you in. This is what we do; the second and last Saturday of the month is always for us."
"And I'm supposed to be grateful for that?"
"Would you rather not see each other at all?" She asked.
"At least then I would probably know where we stand."
"I love you Greg-you know that I do."
"Then let me come beck home. It's been so long Karen."
"I need time, Greg..."
"How much more time could you possibly need?! We have been married for ten years; separated for six of them. For God's sake, you're shagging other men!"
"And aren't you shagging other women?!"
"No! I haven't been with anyone other than you since-" Greg stopped himself abruptly.
"Since her?"
"I haven't seen her or spoken to her in years, Karen. What do I have to do for you to forgive me?"
"You were sleeping with my PA before we were married."
"But I did marry you-I loved you."
"And you kept sleeping with her!"
"I made a mistake."
"If she hadn't broken things off; if the guilt hadn't finally Warren away as her, would you have ended it? Would you have felt bad enough to tell me the truth?"
"The truth broke us apart."
"No, Greg; your inability to keep your dick in your pants broke us apart. And I'm trying to forgive you; I really am, but I just don't know how I can ever trust you again." Karen dug into her purse for her keys, and stuck one in the lock, "I have an early meeting. I'll ring you."
"Yea, fine."
"Goodnight Greg." She said with a slightly sad smile, her fingers brushing against the edge of the now open door rather than the edges of Greg's face.
He watched until she was inside her flat, and then pushed his heels into the pavement to turn and head toward the road to catch a taxi back to Baker Street.
The building was nearly dark when he stepped out of the taxi; the only light visible was something dim from the windows of John and Sherlock' flat. He sighed at the idea of walking up all those stairs and going into his empty flat; the dishes from his lonely dinner the night before still in the sink, no one waiting for him to say hello to.
He unlocked the door, looked up the staircase in front of him, and then down the other staircase. He shrugged his shoulders, and felt around on his key ring until he found what he was looking for. He descended the stairs, and unlocked the bottom floor flat. Even though, no one was home their either, at least it was comfortable, and there would be sweets. He pulled the key out, and opened up the door to see Molly.
"Oh, I wasn't expecting anyone to be here." Greg said, almost closing the door back on himself.
"Well, I do live here." Molly said, laughing.
"Right, but I thought you were out."
"No, well, I was. Jim cancelled our date; I was at the bookstore."
"Oh." Greg pushed the door open, and went into the flat. He sat down next to Molly, where she was curled up on the sofa with a throw over her legs, and a book between her fingers; Greg wasn't sure he had ever seen her watch the telly.
"You look nice." She said, "Were you on a date?"
"Sort of; I was out with Karen."
"Oh. Is that-I mean, is it-" she shook her head, and took in a deep breath, "what exactly is the deal with the two of you?"
Greg laughed, "I'm fairly certain that she wants to get a divorce, but she comes from money; that messed up old kind of money where it's in better taste to stay married, even if you haven't lived with your husband for six years, and sleep with strangers more often than you do with him."
"Why do you put up with it?"
"Punishment I suppose."
Molly lifted a confused eyebrow his way.
"She left me after she found out about an affair I was having with her PA."
"Oh." She said quietly, "I didn't know that."
"Not one of my better decisions."
"Perhaps not, but Greg-" she turned, and set a gentle hand against his knee, "you can't keep living like this; you can't let her punish you; can't punish yourself for the rest of your life. You made a mistake, but you're a good man."
"Do you think so?" Greg asked. It had been years since he had felt good.
Molly smiled; bright and innocent, "Of course.