Fill: Road to New Roissy 5a/?voyeurineDecember 9 2011, 14:58:50 UTC
Mycroft squirmed as the object (dildo, wrong shape for a butt plug) was slowly and carefully pressed into his body. When it grazed his prostate, he gave a full-body shudder and whimpered in pleasure. It feels so fucking good, so good….
Then hips nudged against his upturned buttocks and he momentarily stilled in surprise. Wriggling backwards, he detected leather fastenings across her waist and thighs. A strap-on!
Firm, leather-covered breasts flattened against his damp back and strong arms encircled his middle. “Mycroft Holmes,” she sighed into his shoulder before biting it. “Said to be the most brilliant man in England. Smarter than his brother Sherlock. I know all about you. Have you deduced yet that I’m going to fuck your arse until you wonder where I’ve been all your life?”
Mycroft wasn’t shocked that she knew his name. But Sherlock’s? Was she a friend of his younger brother’s or, worse, an enemy? Then something occurred to him: Gregory’s given her a script. Told her what to say. Of course.
“You think someone’s written me a speech, don’t you?”
What the hell?
“I read you like a newspaper, my boy. As to how I know your brother: you’ll soon find out. But right now I’m going to ride you like the whore you are. Imagine that- the great Mycroft Holmes, stuffed with cheap rubber cock and loving it- while his partner watches.”
Mycroft’s chin lifted sharply, making her laugh.
“Oh, yes, Mr. Lestrade is viewing all this on camera as we speak. Let’s give him a show, shall we?”
She drew back before slamming several inches of hard silicone into his tight passage. He grunted loudly and nearly fell onto his stomach. After taking a second to reorient himself, he spread his legs and arched his back further so that the next thrust hit his prostate.
“I know where the sweet spot is,” Irene chided. “But you couldn’t wait, could you? Fucking slut!”
Then hips nudged against his upturned buttocks and he momentarily stilled in surprise. Wriggling backwards, he detected leather fastenings across her waist and thighs. A strap-on!
Firm, leather-covered breasts flattened against his damp back and strong arms encircled his middle. “Mycroft Holmes,” she sighed into his shoulder before biting it. “Said to be the most brilliant man in England. Smarter than his brother Sherlock. I know all about you. Have you deduced yet that I’m going to fuck your arse until you wonder where I’ve been all your life?”
Mycroft wasn’t shocked that she knew his name. But Sherlock’s? Was she a friend of his younger brother’s or, worse, an enemy? Then something occurred to him: Gregory’s given her a script. Told her what to say. Of course.
“You think someone’s written me a speech, don’t you?”
What the hell?
“I read you like a newspaper, my boy. As to how I know your brother: you’ll soon find out. But right now I’m going to ride you like the whore you are. Imagine that- the great Mycroft Holmes, stuffed with cheap rubber cock and loving it- while his partner watches.”
Mycroft’s chin lifted sharply, making her laugh.
“Oh, yes, Mr. Lestrade is viewing all this on camera as we speak. Let’s give him a show, shall we?”
She drew back before slamming several inches of hard silicone into his tight passage. He grunted loudly and nearly fell onto his stomach. After taking a second to reorient himself, he spread his legs and arched his back further so that the next thrust hit his prostate.
“I know where the sweet spot is,” Irene chided. “But you couldn’t wait, could you? Fucking slut!”
Reply
Leave a comment