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Precognitive Narration
By Taleya
Warm tones, coloured by years spent abroad in finer climes. Brown-blonde
hair, bleached by years of sunlight. Finer, darker hairs on moustache, neatly
trimmed; long muscles, honed by years of use. Military man. Prim. Proper. Proud.
Debauched. Writhing.
Body shifting under his own, stirring papers and books littering his bed.
Treatise on tobacco ash falls to floor. Pleasing contrast between colour of skin
and bedclothes.
Capture wandering hand, pin to bedclothes. Move mouth downwards. Third rib, left
hand side. Nip gently. Move upwards to avoid impassioned reaction and possible
broken nose.
Forearms loop under armpits, move upright. Press palms against back. Stroke,
slowly at first, move hips. Head falls back; exposing neck, throat. Suck gently.
Turn hands, nails against shoulderblades. Scratch downwards, lightly at first,
increasing pressure towards spine. Exposed clavicle. Small, gentle bites. Harder
as he responds. Respectable place to conceal markings.
Hands against hips, pulling, pushing. Demanding shift of weight. Lean back,
turn. Compensate for lame right leg. Acquiesce control.
Moustache. Bristly. Tickling. Resist urge to laugh; don't cause unwarranted
offense. Hands in hair. Slightly rough, impeccably groomed. Twist fingers. Tug,
tightly, not too tightly. Mouth descending. Warm. Wet. Wet. Tight. Tight, hands
on inner thighs, blunt nails, moving. Wet. Heat. Wet. Tongue. Moustache. Breath.
Mustn't. Mustn't -
John
Watson looked up from his papers as the pipe shattered in Holmes' hand. "You all
right?"
Holmes brushed pipe fragments and tobacco from the front of his gown, tugging a
cushion over his lap and blinking furiously. "Perfectly," he managed in a
strangled tone.
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