Mrs. Hudson had a plan.
It wasn't a plan for revenge, exactly, although it could have been. Revenge against Mr. Chatterjee for visiting his wife in Doncaster three weekends in a row this month. Or revenge against Sherlock for thinking that because she was old she couldn't hear what went on in his bedroom even though it was right above hers. Not that she begrudged him a little fun after spending so much of his life alone, but he could at least have had the decency to move everyone upstairs into John's old bedroom before they started going at it every Wednesday.
But revenge wasn't her primary motivation. She was just...curious. And a little bored. And not so old that she didn't still have a healthy libido. So when Sherlock made a big fuss about leaving London for the week in order to avoid seeing his parents, Mrs. Hudson did a little extra cleaning in her own flat and then made a phone call. She invited Mr. and Mrs. Holmes to pop round for tea. They accepted, and ended up staying for dinner, as well. Then after-dinner drinks, of course, just as she'd planned.
After Mrs. Hudson poured their second round, Mrs. Holmes set her drink aside and leaned forward on the sofa. "Now, Mrs. Hudson, since our son won't ever talk to us, you'll have to tell us how he's doing these days."
Mrs. Hudson sat in the chair closest to her and carefully smoothed the skirt of her dress over her knees. Maybe this was her opening to broach the subject. "Sherlock is doing very well. Better than I've ever seen him, I'd dare to say. He and John and Mary seem to be...getting along just fine. The three of them." She took a long sip of her drink, looking over the top of her glass to meet Mrs. Holmes's eyes, hoping she was as good at deducing as her sons.
Mrs. Holmes nodded. "I've seen hints of that, here and there. And our Sherlock has never been one for conventions, has he?"
"Oh, so you don't object to that type of unconventional arrangement?" Mrs. Hudson shot a quick glance over at Mr. Holmes, who wore the same expression his son did when he was pretending not to listen but hearing every word. She looked back to Mrs. Holmes for an answer.
"Of course not! We've certainly got up to worse in our time, haven't we, sweetheart?" Mrs. Holmes glanced over at her husband, who murmured agreement and winked at her. "But it's different when it's your own son," she continued. "He's my baby boy. In my mind he's still too young to be having sex, much less with two people at once."
Mrs. Hudson nodded. "But if he were older and more experienced, like us...." She trailed off, letting a raised eyebrow ask the question for her.
Mrs. Holmes clapped her hands together in front of her stomach. "We thought you'd never ask."
Mrs. Hudson had a moment of hesitation once they were all in the bedroom, but then the Holmeses both turned and looked at her at the same time, twin questioning looks on their faces, and she resolved to see her plan through to the end.
"Now, I don't want either of you to have to do anything you're uncomfortable with," she began, fiddling with the top button on her dress without actually undoing it. "But it is rather warm in here so I thought we might want to get undressed?"
"There's very little that makes us uncomfortable," Mrs. Holmes said, and sat down on the edge of the bed, slipping her shoes off and tucking them neatly to the side. "Right, sweetheart?"
Mr. Holmes nodded. "I had an attack of diverticulitis last spring. That was uncomfortable." He stepped out of his own shoes and started to unbutton his shirt. "Although I should tell you that since I wasn't expecting this today I didn't bring any of my pills with me, so—"
"Oh, you don't need a pill," Mrs. Holmes interrupted. "If you don't manage to get it up we have plenty of other options."
Mr. Holmes shook his head and smiled at Mrs. Hudson. "She's very romantic, my wife, but she hides it well."
Mrs. Hudson giggled, and then waved at the nightstand next to her bed. "I do have a number of different options, if anyone is interested."
Mrs. Holmes slid to the end of the bed and opened the drawer while her husband resumed undressing. "This is quite a collection," she said, and reached in, rummaging around for a few moments before pulling out a small, bright pink vibrator.
"Oh. I guess you're right, love." Mr. Holmes, now fully naked, walked around the end of the bed and sat down on the side opposite his wife. "I don't need a pill."
Mrs. Holmes glanced over at him, then looked at Mrs. Hudson. "Go ahead, if you want to give him try. I want to give this little beauty a whirl." She flipped the vibrator's switch on and off and grinned.
"I told you she was romantic," Mr. Holmes said. He swung his legs up onto the bed and leaned back against the pillows, still sitting up.
Mrs. Hudson took off her dress and stockings and underclothes, feeling their eyes on her the whole time but already well past the point of being self-conscious. When she was undressed she stood for a moment, letting them both look at her, then crossed the room to the bed. Mr. Holmes held out his arms and she perched on the bed next to him. He was a good decade older than Mr. Chatterjee, but still trim and fit, with long, lean muscles evident throughout his chest and arms. And he definitely did not need any pharmaceutical assistance at the moment.
He didn't flinch under her gaze, but raised his eyebrows at her. "A kiss?"
She got onto her knees next to him and started to lean forward; he caught her before she could overbalance. She giggled once and then let him guide her leg over his thighs, so she was sitting on his lap. He smiled and ran his fingers down her arms, his skin rough and warm, then settled his hands just above her hips. As they began to kiss, she was aware of Mrs. Holmes wriggling out of her own clothes on the bed beside them. A moment later there was a click and then the whirr of the vibrator.
Mrs. Hudson had been with many men over the years—older, younger, single, divorced, married and seeing her on the side either secretly or openly—but this was the first time she had ever been with a man while his wife lay right beside them. She should have tried it long ago—it had been years since she'd had such a novel sexual experience. The undercurrent of doing something that was forbidden combined with the complete lack of guilt she felt was intoxicating.
After a few minutes she pulled back from the kiss so she could catch her breath. Mr. Holmes took one hand off her hip and she bit at her lip as she watched him wrap his long fingers around himself. She reached out to run her hand down his chest, not stopping until her fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his cock. She gave a light tug and he groaned and leaned forward. "Please," he said. "If you want to—"
"Of course I do," Mrs. Hudson replied and shot a quick glance over toward the nightstand. Though she hadn't had to worry about getting pregnant in decades, she still liked to be safe in bed.
Mrs. Holmes seemed to know immediately what she wanted; she switched the vibrator to her left hand and rolled over to search through the drawer again, quickly producing a condom packet and handing to her. "Do you need anything else?"
"No, I'm quite damp." She opened the packet and slid back a few inches so she could roll the condom onto Mr. Holmes. He dropped back against the pillows again, hands clutching at the duvet on either side of him. She smiled and positioned herself above him, then slowly sank down, letting her eyes slip closed to better savor the moment.
The hum of the vibrator suddenly stopped, and before she knew it Mrs. Hudson found herself being kissed again, this time by Mrs. Holmes. She turned her head to the side to make it more comfortable for them both and was immediately rewarded. "Oh," she murmured, surprised at the skill of Mrs. Holmes's tongue.
Mrs. Holmes laughed and pulled back. "Yes, I've always been the better kisser. His lips look good, but mine do all the work."
Mrs. Hudson's giggle was cut off by another kiss, then a gentle push on her hips, encouraging her to start to move. After a few stuttering attempts at coordination, she and Mr. Holmes finally found a rhythm that worked for them both; she bobbed slowly but steadily atop him and he slid one thumb in between them to rub at her clit. Clearly his wife had trained him right.
"Do you mind?" Mrs. Holmes asked and Mrs. Hudson shook her head; she had absolutely no idea what she was agreeing to but she was sure it would be fine. The mattress shifted as Mrs. Holmes sat up and scooted down the bed. She situated herself behind Mrs. Hudson, so they were both straddling Mr. Holmes's legs. She could feel Mrs. Holmes moving behind her—her chin grazed Mrs. Hudson's shoulder as she reached down to adjust the vibrator inside herself again—and then there was a warm, soft presence against the length of her back, and a hand reaching around to cup her left breast, thumb flicking at the nipple.
Mrs. Hudson hadn't thought about her breasts in ages. Now it was all she could focus on, as Mrs. Holmes moved her thumb back and forth over the nipple, adding small pinches and twists every few seconds. She started to bite back a moan and then let it out, changing the rhythm of her own movement to match the flicking. Beneath her, Mr. Holmes began to move more forcefully. He sat up all the way again, bracing himself with his hands so Mrs. Hudson was pressed between the two of them, and matched his wife's pace with each thrust of his hips.
It didn't take long before Mrs. Hudson knew this was the end for her—she hadn't had this much stimulation in ages, if ever. She opened her mouth again and the small sounds that emerged served as warning to her partners, who both reacted by moving even faster against her.
"Yes, let it go, Martha." Mrs. Holmes's voice was husky in her ear, making her shiver, and then Mr. Holmes said her name as well, drawing out the syllables in his lovely, deep voice, and it pushed her over the edge. Most of her body stilled while she clenched around him, letting the waves of orgasm vanquish all other thoughts and feeling.
When she'd mostly stopped shuddering, she opened her eyes and saw Mr. Holmes, who was leaning back on his elbows, looking up at her. He was still firmly planted inside of her. "Er, I should," he said, and moved his hips minutely away from hers.
"No, you can—" she began, before a full-body shiver cut short her words. The next thing she knew he was no longer inside of her, and two pairs of hands were helping ease her onto her side on the bed.
Mrs. Holmes drew the duvet up over Mrs. Hudson's shoulders, gave her a pat on the hip and then announced, "My turn."
Mrs. Hudson watched Mr. and Mrs. Holmes rearrange themselves without her. She let them, not even objecting when the condom was tossed over her to land on the floor of her bedroom.
Her plan had worked perfectly. She drifted in a fog of satisfaction, keeping herself awake for one reason only. Now that they'd all had such a good time together, she really thought she should at least learn their first names.