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Trust Building

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It was not a standard professional practice. But he has agreed to this in principle. She was taking that as initial permission. And she had needs of her own that she had been nurturing for this chance. She might never get another one. The case was all but solved and Gregson had refused to move on the suspect before morning. By tomorrow night there could well be another case.

She took off her sleeping things and put on her robe, went down the stairs, was very pleased to see him sleeping, though of course he had left the lights on. He was on the sofa in his room. She had never known if the bed in the room beyond was for sex only or for visitors or if the two overlapped so frequently that there was no distinction.

She heard him moan, thought he might have said “Irene.”

She moved to sit on the floor as gently as she could, knew he had awakened. He was surprised at the reversal. He startled but was stilled by her firm gaze. This was no emergency. He was more surprised when she pushed his shoulder down so he was on his back. But that is nothing to the amazement he felt when she then moved her hand to his groin. She had never gotten a full look at him at rest, knew that there was no sure correlation with a man’s tumescent state in any case.

“What are you doing, Watson?”

She shifted to maintain eye contact with him “Yesterday you said ‘all your bodily fluids.’”

“You are not actually going to test my ejaculate?”

“No. Think of this as a trust building exercise.”

“Evidently I trust your intentions or you would not be sitting here unharmed with your hand on my cock.”

“You wake me up all the time!”

“Exactly.” He smirked at her.

“My point is that you don’t trust me enough to share your feelings with me. So I intend to have a sexual encounter with you to facilitate that.”

“Not that I have anything against fucking but it does not lead to me ‘sharing’ romantic mush with my partner.”

She grimaced at him.

“This isn’t a romantic overture. This is a chance for us to negotiate, in a framework that I assume is familiar to you. It will show you that I can accept you, that I understand boundaries, and that you can trust me to do what is best for you. Do you agree with that to begin with?”

“I will agree to negotiate. Tell me, was Alistair correct, is this a part of your regular service?”

He rolled his hips under her hand.

“No! It’s certainly not part of my standard practice to have sex with my clients. Is it acceptable to have my hand on you now?”

“It’s fine. I do not think a physical touch will influence me more than the thought of engaging in intercourse with you.”

“Good, I will tell you I am enjoying touching you. I guess I should already have asked, what is your safe word?”

“Brighton”

“Like Brighton Beach?”

“The seaside town in England, actually.”

“I can remember that. Mine is …”

“Enterprise” they said together.

“How did you know that?”

“I have seen the Patrick Stewart wall paper on your laptop,” he drawled.

“Fine.” She snorted then gathered her thoughts and asked “hard limits?”

“No maiming, no amputation, no blood play, no permanent incapacity. Additional tattoos, scaring, branding, penetration without a condom, and additional partners require consent in advance. Normally I choose no more damage than will heal in 3 days but you know I have to work in the morning tomorrow. Birth control is a must.”

“Okay, I can certainly stay within those tonight.” “Triggers?” she asked.

She shifted her hand to his abdomen. “No sense letting her arm cramp up now, especially as he seems pretty reasonable” she thought.

“No daddy play. No knives. I will not role play a murder or kidnapping scenario.”

“Makes sense. Not going there tonight but what about interrogation or prison guard?”

“If it involved ‘lesser’ crimes I would consider it.”

“I haven’t been able to figure out if you actually like pain or just submission?”

“Submission is my primary motivation, to please my dominant, and to achieve an altered state, but pain can be very effective method for both and therefore in the long view it is also a preference.”

“All right. I intend to be mild with you tonight because that is my preference. Are there pertinent questions you want to ask me?”

She had started toying with the tie of his sweat pants.

“Are you always the dominant partner?”

“No. Are you always submissive? I should have asked that.”

“No, not always, I have also had vanilla relationships.”

“Do you ever dominate?”

“I have.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I did, it was not addictive but I can appreciate the appeal.”

“Interesting. What else do you want to know about me for this?”

“Is kink a long term interest of yours or a recent development?”

“I always had an interest, since I was a teenager. I’ve had adult experiences that molded me. I’ve primarily had vanilla relationships but as you know this is not a relationship.”

“We are bound to work together for some time yet to come, how is this not a relationship?”

“This is not an ongoing sexual relationship. Anything else?”

“That should suffice. You may continue.”

“Thank you. Tell me what I’ve forgotten to ask.”

“Language. What terms are permissible and what are not if you are intending verbal humiliation.”

“Oh right, I did figure out I wasn’t going to call you Mr. Holmes. Is Sherlock permissible?”

“As long as you do not intend that to be humiliating.”

“I don’t think that’s really my style. Is there anything else I should not call you?”

“Nothing referring to my substance addiction. Though I do not think you would want to reinforce that addiction in any case”

“Right. Anything else I should know?”

“No.”

“Good. Can we move this to a bed? Otherwise I can improvise here.”

“So you have a plan?”

“Of course.”

“I will not stand in your way. We will adjourn to the bed. The sheets, by the way, are clean.”

“Thanks, that’s nice to know. But I was prepared if they weren’t.”

“Really?” She did not appear to be carrying any equipment.

“Do it on the robe, haven’t you read the Hitchhiker’s guide? A terry robe is even better than a towel for being prepared.”

She removed her hand. He sat up on the sofa. She held out her hand and he assisted her in rising. Then they both made their way to the bed.

“Lie down on your back. Now scoot down and put your arms above your head and clasp your hands,” she instructed. “Do you need a restraint to keep them there ties, cuffs, anything?”

He knew she would do what he needed but that she would prefer his own restraint “No, this is good.”

She stood beside the bed. Bending, she untied the string at the waist of his sweat pants and started to slide them down.

He lifted his hips but did not otherwise move to assist her.

“Naked is better” she said. She saw his attention was turning inward. She gave him a quick, light slap to the left cheek. “Eyes on Ms. Watson, Sherlock.”

She climbed back on the bed straddling his thighs and settling her robe around her. Leaning forward she kissed and worried at his left nipple. Dropping a quick kiss on the right as well, she felt his penis brushing her stomach and judged him ready. She moved back so she was kneeling above his legs, grabbed a condom from her robe pocket and rolled it onto him.

He noticed it was unlubricated.

Now came the real moment. She rose up and scooted forward until she could position him at the opening of her vagina. She was excited but also terribly worried that this was where it would all go wrong. She grasped the base of his cock to hold the condom on and began to push herself onto him. She was certain in her own mind that this would not damage him but she watched and listened intently for his safe word. That is she listened as intently as she could while also absorbing the delicious sensations she was creating for herself. If this was cut short she wanted to enjoy as much as she could. She began to groan, softly, at the sensation of stretching herself painfully around his cock.

He wasn’t losing his erection but he was looking at her in confusion. “Lube in the drawer, Ms. Watson,” was his reasonably abject suggestion.

“Shut up and let me enjoy myself. I know where the damn lube is!”

His mouth moved but he didn’t speak. There was a hint of recognition in his eyes. He no longer seemed to be afraid of hurting her. Instead he seemed to be sinking into his own space, but this time with her assistance, just as she had hoped.

Now that they were both relaxing her arousal built and with it her lubrication. She quickened her pace. She was close. If she finished before him he would still get his reward. To insure this and to increase her own pleasure she slowed a bit. Deciding the condom was firmly in place now she moved her fingers to her clitoris, grasped it between thumb and forefinger, and applied pressure. She came hard.

Sherlock, staring fascinated, came after only a few more lunges on her part.

She rolled off him. “Good work, thank you, Sherlock. Now, you can put your arms down and sleep soundly after I clean us up a bit.”

She carefully removed the condom and disposed of it on her way to fetch a warm wet cloth from the kitchen. She returned and cleaned him up as he still lay uncovered on the bed.

“You know I sleep under covers so I hope you can do that for me tonight.”

He nodded.

“You are allowed to talk now if you want.”

He shook his head.

She removed her robe, turned out the light, got under the covers, and lay on her side facing him.

He remained on his back but moved his hand at his side until it touched her body.

She reached out and put her hand on his chest. “All right?”

“I am fine,” he answered.

“Yes, yes you are,” she replied.

And so they feel asleep.

 

When she awoke he was gone. They never spoke of the encounter but she had her proof in the confidence he gave her that evening.