A/N: I am sososo sorry it's taken me over a month to get this up, but holy crap collegefinalsworkbleck. So here it is, ever so shorter than average, but with some much needed smut (though obviously not Johnlock (not yet ;D )). I will do my absolute damnedest to get another chapter up in about a week (if not sooner). Thank you to everyone who's read and followed and favorite-ed, I truly do appreciate it.
Anyway, please R&R as always, and I do hope you enjoy :)
Sherlock and Marge made their way down along the Thames, making light, playful conversation as they went. They would occasionally brushed hands or bumped shoulders, but they were mostly written off with shy, bashful sideways glances followed by quickly finding something else to look at when their eyes would meet. Yet despite the chill in the air, both young adults seemed unwilling to don their gloves or wrap a scarf tightly around their face, almost unconsciously trying to maintain as much contact as possible and avoid hiding any part of themselves.
Eventually they made it to a bank that was secluded enough for their purposes, intended and not. Marge was the first to sit, more plopping herself down than anything. Sherlock sat down beside her, though a tad more gracefully, and stretched his legs out in front of him just as Marge had. He was seated so that they weren't touching, yet he could still feel the heat radiating from her small form. They sat for a moment, neither speaking nor looking at each other, but instead staring off at the Thames and the other half of the London skyline as it was illuminated by various city lights. They were contented in that moment, and they both knew it and acknowledge it in their silence.
But they also knew that they were there with other purposes, and that they had numerous questions burning through their mind about the person beside them.
"So Fern, tell me about your brother." Marge asked (in her own way) as she pulled out two cigarettes for her and Sherlock. Sherlock accepted his and proceeded to light it, stalling for a few easy moments before answering.
"How'd you know I have a brother? I don't remember mentioning him." Sherlock raised his eyebrow as a grin formed on his face. While he wasn't surprised she knew he had a brother, he was curious as to how she knew.
But Marge just shrugged. "Well, it's pretty bloody obvious you're not an only child and I kinda figured a sister wouldn't be that much of an ass. And like I said earlier, you're not the only one that pays attention; I know you're home life ain't all sparkling champagne and fancy suits. Quite the opposite, I take it." Marge was quiet as she finished, knowing all too well how difficult family was to talk about. Especially when your family sucked.
Sherlock accepted her explanation and understood that his pain over his family was a mutual one as well. Marge looked at him, almost nervously, as he finally nodded to her statement. "Yes, and older brother. Mycroft." Sherlock looked down before releasing a fairly undignified huff, "Yes, dear Mycroft, always trying to keep weird, disobedient little brother Sherlock in line, lest father find out and punish them both." Sherlock self-deprecatingly mocked. He shook his head, looking away from Marge and absently back at the Thames as an endless disarray of memories and emotions flooded his already cramped mind.
"Yeah, I know the feeling." Marge added gently as she lay a hand on Sherlock's shoulder, causing him to tense slightly before turning back to face Marge, tears brimming in his eyes. Marge withdrew her hand and rested both in her lap instead. "My dad used to beat us, my brother and I, whenever we upset him. Or just for no reason. Just depended on his mood that day, really. And mom was always out working. Or at least, trying to, but she could almost never find steady work. A worthless drug addict, just like me. Yeah, Marc followed after dad with the drink and I followed after mom with the coke. Top-notch family, eh?" Now Marge was the teary one as they made two simple tracks down her cheeks. Sherlock raised his hands to her face, thumbs swiping the tears from her cheeks.
"No, not worthless. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful." Sherlock affirmed as he continued to hold her face between his hands.
"Bollocks, you're just saying that to make me feel better." Marge tried to turn away but Sherlock held her fast.
"No, truth. You, Marjorie, are beautiful. Yes, you are physically pleasing, but more than that, you are good. You are, honest to God, the first person that has ever been truly nice to me–cared about me–so don't you dare say that you're not beautiful, because that would be a damn lie. You are kind and loving in a way so very little of humanity can ever claim to be. And that makes you so utterly beautiful. Truly, unequivocally, breathtakingly beautiful." Sherlock paused, waiting for her reaction, only to be completely startled when Marge surged forward and captured his lips in a crushing kiss.
Sherlock was even farther out of his element, having never really thought about anyone in that way, let alone kissed a person before. Yet there he was, kissing a young woman he had only met once before tonight yet who was someone that understood him in such profound ways.
After a moment, during which Sherlock's shock and slight panic in not knowing what he should do, Marge pulled back, a worried look crossing her face as she wondered if she had crossed a line. She shook her head, tears beginning to form and fall once again as she looked away, ashamed of losing control like that.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I obviously crossed a line and I'm sor–" Marge was cut off as Sherlock pulled her face back around and kissed her. He was awkward and sloppy, not having the slightest clue what he was doing, but wanting to keep doing it and reassure Marge that it was very, very okay.
Marge turned her body more towards Sherlock, easing the uncomfortable angle of their kiss. Sherlock gently pressed his lips to hers, lessening the pressure slightly but still with a sharply needing insistency. Having seen people kiss before, Sherlock experimentally ran his tongue along her lips, causing her to moan and open her mouth. The sound went straight south, causing Sherlock to let out his own moan as he felt his groin begin to stir.
Marge notice this and, taking into account Sherlock's lack of real social interactions, realized just how new to "sexuality" Sherlock was. So she decided to take control a little bit.
With both of their mouths now open, she slid her tongue into his mouth, caressing his tongue, before playfully retreating back into her own. She did this several times before Sherlock's patience ran out and his hormones began to take over. He quickly pushed Marge on to her back and move on top of her, balancing his weight so that he wasn't laying directly on her but so that he could also explore as he saw fit.
He kept one hand along her jaw as the other one lightly slid down to rest on her waist. Sherlock let his hormones run free as he plunged his tongue into Marge's mouth, licking and tasting her as their tongues played and battled for dominance. After a few minutes, Marge decided to push it, lightly biting Sherlock's lower lip only to have him let out a low groan and press his hips a little harder into hers.
It was then that they both noticed Sherlock's rather prominent erection pressing against her pelvis. Sherlock quickly went to move, mortified at himself and his body's reaction, but Marge quickly yanked him back down, wrapping her legs around his slim waist and sinking her tongue back into his mouth. Sherlock was tense for a few moments, hesitantly returning her kisses, until Marge bit his lip a little harder as she ground up against Sherlock's cock.
Sherlock couldn't help but grind against her in return, a deep groan barely escaping his throat. Sherlock moved his hand to her back to pulled her more tightly against him as he continued to rock against her. He could feel the heat from her core even through their layers of clothes and it only encouraged him further as he took his own turn at biting. He nipped at her lower lip as said had done to him but quickly moved on to kissing and biting along her jaw until he reached the sensitive area right below her ear. As he gently bit down there, Marge let out a low moan which sent a pleasurable surge down Sherlock's back. He bit down harder then, before softly kissing and licking the spot. He let out a light chuckle as Marge tightened her legs around Sherlock and ground hard against Sherlock's weeping cock. Marge gave him a half-hearted smack before changing her mind and winding her hand into Sherlock's curls, roughly yanking his head back so she could reach his throat. Sherlock moaned at the sharp spike of pain as pre-come began to pool at the head of his cock and Marge smiled greedily.
She mouthed at his neck as she moved down before biting at his collarbone. Sherlock let out a strangled groan as his hips jerked forward. Marge took advantage of his distraction and flipped them until she was on top and straddling the future detective. Sherlock looked up, surprise dancing across his blown pupil until Marge ground down, wiping his mind of everything but the feel of her against him. She leaned forward, kissing along Sherlock's neck, working her way slowly, deliciously, towards the sensitive spot right below his ear. Sherlock gasped as Marge lightly bit and sucked his earlobe, causing her to giggle as he tilted his head back to allow her more access.
Marge moved to bite his collarbone, but Sherlock was quicker, rolling them back over to top as he repaid her attention in full. Sherlock mercilessly attacking her neck and collarbone as his hand slid under her shirt, gently running his hands across her skin. Marge shivered as his fingertips danced across her stomach only to arch into his touch as he loosely skimmed the sensitive skin under her breast. Taking the cue, Sherlock hesitantly slid his hand over her covered breast. When Marge arched into the almost nonexistent touch while lightly grinding into him, Sherlock gather more courage as he slipped his hand under the material of her bra. Marge let out a satisfied sigh at the skin to skin contact which only encouraged Sherlock in his explorations.
Sherlock kissed Marge, resuming their earlier battle for dominance, as Sherlock began to squeeze her breast, eliciting the most delicious sounds from her and swallowing her gasp when he lightly pinched her peaked nipple. This seemed to encourage Marge as she quickly forced them back over and she roughly moved against his dripping cock, finding her own pleasure as she ran her hands over Sherlock's chest and arms.
Sherlock could only grip her hips as she moved above him, unable to contain the groans rising from his throat. Marge leaned down to kiss him, speeding up her movements, and causing Sherlock to let out a strangled noise as the pleasure continued to reach higher peaks. Marge grabbed Sherlock's wrists and move his hands from her hips to her breasts where she squeezed them before winding her hands back into Sherlock's long curls. Sherlock understood, cupping and stroking them, occasionally running his thumb over her taunt nipple and even pinching them.
Sherlock suddenly felt Marge's movements change and become more frantic. "Oh, god…so…fucking…close…" she moaned as she ground down even harder, causing Sherlock to let out a choked "Yes…" Sherlock could feel the woman above him start to tense as her moaning and strangled words got louder, until she finally threw her head back and stilled.
Sherlock felt the miniscule movement of her hips as she rode out her orgasm and couldn't help how quickly he felt them build his own orgasm. But as he got closer to the edge, Marge relaxed above him, finally, completely, stilling her hips. This only caused Sherlock to let out a desperate, frustrated groan, which Marge was quick to take notice of.
"Don't worry Fern, I haven't forgotten about you." Marge gave him a playful wink as he looked at her, slightly confused until he felt her undoing his belt. She quickly undid the button of his jeans and pulled down his zipper, leaning forward to kiss him again, albeit more slowly than before. She slid her hand under his boxers, lightly tugging at the hair she came across and earning a sharp hiss, before firmly gripping his member. Sherlock, as inexperienced as he was, couldn't stop the upward thrust into her hand as he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning too loudly.
Marge made quick work of Sherlock's orgasm, adding the perfect amount of pressure and twist as she moved her delicate hand along the smooth skin of Sherlock's hard cock. But Sherlock's ultimate undoing was when Marge squeezed the top of his dick, swiping her thumb across the glistening head but paying special attention and pressure to his leaking slit. Sherlock felt his orgasm rip through him, sending surge after surge through his abdomen as he came, a choked gasp the only sound he could manage.
As he rode out the aftershocks of his first real orgasm, breath coming in heavy pants, Marge withdrew a more than slightly sticky hand, reaching behind her to wipe it in the grass. Sherlock looked over and saw this, blush quickly blooming across his sweaty face.
"I'm, um, s-sorry about t-that. I-I didn't quite realize, or, I guess, more accurately, r-remember about that, um, particular…aspect of, um, sexual…encounters, and I–" Sherlock's awkward, rambling apology was cut off by Marge's sweet laugh and a shake of her head.
"I know full well what the results of male orgasms are, Sherlock, and it's fine. Hardly anything to be embarrassed about." Marge gave him a sly smile before laying down beside him and resting her head on his chest as they both relaxed from their…experience.
They stayed like that for some time, until Sherlock could make out the faintest beginnings of a sunrise. He frowned slightly, not wanting to leave but knowing he had to get back home before someone noticed he was gone. Sherlock ran his hand through Marge's hair, not actually knowing whether or not she was asleep. Apparently she was as she slowly stirred back to consciousness, raising her head with a slightly confused look as she took in her unexpected surroundings. But the look of confusion only lasted a moment as she noticed Sherlock next to her and remembered everything.
"Hey there, hotshot." Marge gave him a suggestive smile as she propped herself onto her elbows and started to run her finger down Sherlock's chest, her intended destination clear. Sherlock dropped his head back and groaned. It was coming up on 5am, around the time some of the staff started to get up at home, and Sherlock needed to at least try to get back before anyone noticed and without getting caught. But damn it, Marge was right here and he wanted her.
Marge was either oblivious to his internal struggle or simply ignored it as she moved to straddle Sherlock once again. She circled her hips over his groin, causing it to stir back to life, still stickier from earlier.
"Marge, no, I mean, I have to get back. I can't get caught. Seriously, I-" Sherlock was cut off as Marge kissed him roughly, making it clear that she wasn't too concerned. They both knew Sherlock could sneak past whoever, that he only needed to be back before someone came looking. But Sherlock still moved to protest, not wanting to think of what might happen if Mycroft caught him. But him protests were silenced as Marge cupped him through his pants and squeezed.
Sherlock groaned and let go, deciding that this was definitely worth the risk. He wrapped his arms around her slim waist, pulled her down to him as they continued to kiss. Marge slid her hand inside his boxers once more, gently stroking, but adding nowhere near the pressure Sherlock wanted. Needed.
He let out a frustrated, desperate noise, which in another circumstance he would've been too embarrassed to admit to. But Marge just gave him a devious smirk as she broke off the kiss. She moved down Sherlock's body, running her fingers under his shirt and across his chest. Sherlock eyed her curiously, not entirely knowing what to make of what she was doing. But then she reached his crotch, and her smirked widened immensely as she slid down his jeans and boxers. And Sherlock's eyes widened in sudden understanding, propping himself up on his elbows as he watched her take out his hard, straining length.
Still too shocked to really say anything, Marge peppered light kisses to the base, his pubic hair tickling her nose as she breathed in his scent. Sherlock's head dropped back, panting hard in the simple anticipation of what was about to happen–what was happening.
But when Marge didn't continue, Sherlock lifted his head, concern suddenly flooding his mind. Only to see Marge between his legs with a raised eyebrow. "That's better. If I'm going to taste you, I want you to know how much I want your glorious cock in my mouth." Sherlock might have found the crude language offensive in another situation, but watching Marge's eyes blown wide with lust, watching her tongue snake out to lick her lips, Sherlock could only find it all the more erotic, especially as he started to picture just what it was she was saying. So Sherlock made eye contact and nodded for her to continue.
Marge smiled, lowering her head, lightly kissing the tip of Sherlock's cock before moving lower and earnestly sucking on the underside of his length near his balls. Sherlock let out a strangled gasp, momentarily breaking eye contact as his eyes rolled back. But he quickly opened his eyes once he realized that Marge and her beautiful mouth were no longer near him. Marge smiled when he met her eyes again and rewarded him by taking the head of his cock into her mouth, gently swirling her tongue around the tip. Sherlock tried to grabbed onto to something, anything, to keep him from thrusting up into that delicious heat. Marge understood and firmly placed her hands on his hips, preventing anymore than slight movements from him.
Which was probably a good idea as Marge began to lightly suck, still working her tongue around the silky skin of his head, carefully avoiding his slit and the underside of the head. Little by little she took all of him into her mouth that she could manage without choking, a sight that almost made Sherlock come right then if it hadn't been for the tight grip Marge's fingers around the base of his cock.
And then she started bobbing her head up and down with increasing speed. Sherlock tried to maintain eye contact but finally gave up, dropping his head back and moaning obscenely as Marge began to suck as she went, tongue lavishing the underside of his cock. But when she pulled back slightly, focusing all of her attention on his head, aggressively tonguing at the sensitive spot right under his head and then on his slit, Sherlock finally did lose it, completely and harder than he ever had before.
He tried to give Marge a warning, but it was too much for him to even managed more than a strangled gasp as he began to come, though Marge didn't seem to mind in the slightest, simply swallowing all of it and moaning so obscenely that Sherlock knew it was for his benefit. And he didn't mind in the least.
After a moment, Marge slowly crawled back up until she was lying back down beside Sherlock, who was still desperately trying to catch his breath. When Sherlock looked down at her several minutes later, she was grinning up at him like the Cheshire cat.
"Good morning" Marge continued to smile at him as they slowly stood up. She held onto Sherlock's hands as he brushed the grass and dirt off of his back, swinging them back and forth between them. Sherlock smiled down at the beautiful woman before him, wondering just how he had come to be in this particular situation.
"Very much good morning." Sherlock happily added back "But I do really have to get going, before Mycroft and the workers and everyone else wakes up and realizes I'm not there." Sherlock solemnly looked over at the barest hints of light at the edge of the horizon.
"But not before a morning wake-me-up." Marge deftly reached into her previously discarded purse and pulled out the little baggie of white powder.
"Not that would be a very, very bad idea. My brother is also quite astute and will surely notice if I'm high as a kite." Sherlock quirked a leery eyebrow as Marge ignored him and opened the baggie, setting a line on her hand and holding it out to Sherlock.
"Probably true, but why do I get the feeling you're just a bit smarter and more astute than your brother? I have no doubt that you can hide anything you want from your brother, and everyone else, if you actually set your mind to it." Sherlock only considered for a moment before he bent slightly and snorted the line off of Marge's hand, pinching his nose as the powder burned its way down. Marge set up another line, this one for herself, before snorting it and tucking the baggie back into Sherlock's pocket as the burning in his nose began to decrease and the high start to take over.
Sherlock smiled at Marge as they began to soar with the drugs coursing through their veins. Sherlock held out his hand, which Marge gladly took, as they started off back towards the main road.
They talked and laughed and giggled and smiled the entire way to the subway, both giddy and hyper in their altered state. When they finally reached the platform a few minutes before the next train (and the one Sherlock needed to get on) arrived. Sherlock gave a small smile as he a Marge turned to face each other.
"That was…" Sherlock awkwardly began, but Marge was once again there to save him from his social ineptitude.
"Fucking fantastic, almost literally." She smirked as a light blush began to spread across Sherlock's alabaster skin. "But you really do need to get back. I mean, what were you thinking? Staying out so late? You really should have started heading home almost an hour ago!" Marge joked as they broke out laughing.
"Well if I recall correctly, that was kind of difficult with a young female attaching herself to my penis." Sherlock lightly shot back.
"Too true." Marge conceded, wrapping her arms around Sherlock's waist and looking up towards him. "But I think we can both agree it was well worth it." She winked as she leaned up, kissing Sherlock passionately as her arms snaked around his shoulders, pulling him even closer. Sherlock eagerly returned the attention until they heard the train come to a loud stop beside them. Sherlock broke off the kiss, pressing his forehead against hers and panting slightly.
"I'm gonna miss you." Sherlock whispered between them.
"So am I. But, you have an entire baggie full of ways to remember me. Well, and a pair of slightly sticky jeans." Marge winked once more, giving Sherlock a sultry look, which only caused him to groan.
"You are going to be the death of me. But not yet. First I have to get home without getting caught." Sherlock quickly kissed Marge and gave her a tight hug before breaking off and rushing onto the impatient subway train just as it was about to leave. Sherlock stood by one of the train windows, waving and smiling to truly enticing and wonderful Marge as the train pulled out and back into the darkened tunnel.