“Oh hello darling! Please do come in. I’m the housekeeper.” A gentle female voice spoke “It’s always lovely to have a friend of the family over!” she smiled.
“Well thank you for your kindness, madam.” You politely thank her.
“He’s not as… sociable… as his parents were you know. We don’t get visitors often. A pity. He’s a fine boy.” She continues, while reaching out to accept your jacket.
You hardly manage to suppress a laugh. A fine boy… That’s another way to put it…
“Yes. He is.” You answer, forcing a smile as you do.
“Well now. Upstairs you go child. He’s in his workoffice, second floor, the first room to the right.” She pointed down the hall.
A loud whistle set in and the housekeeper scurried off into the kitchen to take the teakettle off the stove. “I don’t think he’s expecting you. So do knock.” She added before disappearing.
You walk further down the hall when you knock over the umbrella stand which earns you a loud *bam* and leaves the pitch black umbrella’s scattered all over the moss green tiles of the floor.
Why. Just why does this man have so many umbrella’s? It’s not as if you can use more than one at a time. Besides the guy’s practically married with those things. Not careless or absentminded enough to leave any of them lying around wherever he goes.
One umbrella would suffice for the types like him.
You on the other hand can’t even count all the umbrella’s you’ve lost in your life. Sighing in frustration you straighten the stand and cram in the umbrellas.
You turn around to face the staircase.
And not just one staircase… but a double staircase centering the whole hall. You must admit; it suits him perfectly. A double staircase that matches the elegance and luxury of the rest of his house spot on. The antique furniture, the Chinese ceramics… the bottles of whisky in the huge dimly lit cabinet surrounded by shelves with books.
You make your way upstairs and breath in deeply as you come to a stop in front of the large dark wooden door. As you grasp the door handle you can feel your body tense and stiffen, leaving you immobilized.
It has been quite a while since you’ve been this nervous. Then again, you have all the reasons to be. Your last encounter with him is still clearly etched into your mind.
You are one of the first acquaintances of his eccentric brother Sherlock ever since he started with the private investigator business. Past two years, you’ve helped him and John Watson out every time they showed up at your doorstep. You can recall at least 5 instances during last year. In December you were once again invited for a Christmas party, and at that party you had the wonderful opportunity to meet with the older Holmes brother once more.
Your thoughts drift away to last Christmas.
It started out quite nice and pretty innocent. You wished him a lovely Christmas and he returned to you a ‘jolly good time.’
You poured yourself a glass of wine, followed by a second, and maybe a third… fourth and fifth one. Feeling just a little bit tipsy at that time.
It was then that Mr. Holmes started a monologue about the British underground criminal network. And how ‘he’ is in total control; knowing all the ins and outs, no criminal activity taking place without him taking notice of it.
What did he just say?.... He’s in control? This made you snicker quietly into your drink.
With two recent murders going unsolved, you obviously do not agree with mister Parliament himself.
Normally, you’d just let him spread the nonsense. But not today. Today was not just an ordinary day.
With almost a whole bottle down, you feel confident and bold enough to confront the big fish with some solid counter-evidence.
What’s the worst that could happen right?
As soon as you opened your mouth you noticed something wasn’t right. The words are stuck.
You can actually taste the words on the tip of your tongue but they turn into one big chaotic mess as soon as you speak out loud.
It’s safe to say you made a complete fool of yourself within - what was it? - like 2 minutes.
And the argument? Well, you’d already sorely lost it before it even started.
The last thing you remember is a smug look on Mr. Holmes his face while you dragged your sorry ass into the bathroom. Using the sink to mentally wash away the shame.
And now you’re here. In his house. Only an inch away from meeting him once more.
“Pull yourself together girl. He probably forgot about it.” You try to reassure yourself.
One of your hands encloses itself around the handle, ready to open the door.
…wait, what is that sound? …
As you gently push, the door shifts ajar and you are greeted by…
Mr. Holmes on a treadmill.
Oh god. You idiot. You were supposed to knock.
His green eyes meet yours briefly before you avert your gaze out of the window. You hear him crank down the speed of the treadmill as you apologize “I forgot to knock, sorry!’
As Mycroft leaps of the treadmill something red catches your eye and you notice his black, skintight, black trousers decorated with a red stripe.
Accompanied by a matching black shirt.
“He’s wearing lycra?!” you try to suppress a smile.
“I’m unpleasantly surprised by your disturbance and faulty taste of humor.” Eyes narrowing, a look of anger bleeding into his green orbs, Mycroft growls.
“Forgot how to knock did we?” he asks while using his towel to wipe away some short strands of sweaty hair from his forehead.
“I’m sorry…for my manners“ you start. “I wasn’t paying attention… and finding you on a treadmill… working out…. really caught me by surprise…” You murmur.
Mycroft raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, no. I don’t mean it like that… you know bad or something…. You look great… in shape, really fit!”. Stretching out that last part a little bit more theatrical than you meant to do.
You blow out a sigh as Mycroft turns his back on you and walks towards a door.
“I’ll be back in ten minutes, take a seat” he orders you.
Before he disappears into the doorway you can see him lift the hem of his shirt. The door closes and you hear the sounds of his footsteps in the hall.
Still slightly embarrassed, you can feel your heart race in your chest as you glance around his office. You walk towards a seat in the back of the room and lower yourself into it. You cross your legs and rake your hand through your hair.
Images of Mycroft in his tight pants flood your mind. “He really does look good” you sigh in frustration; as if you hate it to admit it.
His clothes have left little to the imagination: various body parts were perfectly accentuated. Like his lean legs, well defined torso and the bulge in his pants.
You lean back in your seat and the rapid beating of your heart matches the heavy thoughts muddling your mind… It’s no shame to find mr. Mycroft Holmes strangely attractive.
A man with his reputation, his looks and charisma is desired by many.
Silence permeated the room and after what felt like eternity Mycroft blustered in, wearing his usual dark colored suit with a white undershirt. You swallow nervously and try to throw off all naughty thoughts that had just flooded your mind.
He takes off his suit jacket and lowers himself in the seat next to you. His eyebrows forming a heavy, questioning line across his forehead. “So, you have come.”
“Yes. I’m here because…” Before you can finish your sentence he interrupts you. Piercing you with his gaze, knowing eyes undressing your deepest secrets and desires.
Too knowing eyes.
“I know why you’re here, I had expected you sooner.” His eyes crinkle slightly.
“Oh, so you have the files for Sherlock then?” You ask sounding hopeful.
“They’re in that drawer” He answers as he points to a large desk in the corner.
“But that’s not why you’re here”. Mycroft adds with a stern face, his cold eyes tracking the heat of your body.
“Don’t lie to me girl.”
“Don’t test me. ”
“You of all people should know better by now.” He raises from his seat. His tall body casting a shadow over your small form.
You shift nervously in your chair, heat piling up between your legs. You move both of your hands ‘till they rest in your lap as to cover your sex.
Mycroft stalks towards you.
“I know what you desire, all you have to do is ask.”
You feel your heart skip a beat. You get up to your feet in order to speak for your defense.
You are here for the files. Period.
Nothing more, nothing less.
And it’s time to get going.
With three large strides Mycroft closes the space between you and him. One of his hands grabs your wrist while the other pulls you against him. Within a mere blink his lips are locked on yours, demanding entrance. Which you gladly permit him without putting up much of a fight.
His mouth, hot and wet, is just what you need right now.
His mouth drags away from yours. You blink your lashes open and find yourself staring at the most dominating man you’ve ever laid eyes on. With heavy lidded eyes you glance down to where your bodies are connected together. You can see the hardness in his pants.
Mycroft lowers his mouth and whispers. “After our last argument I went to Sherlock’s study and relieved my urges with visions of you riding me into ecstasy.” You feel his warm breath moisten your delicate skin. “I would imagine what your face looks like when I take you. “ The smell of our sex, and the sound of our bodies pressing together with every thrust.” His hungry gaze rakes your body.
Breathing in deeply, you can feel your juices spill through your panties. Heat moistens your core and you arch against the relentless stroking of his body against yours.
“You are here because you want me to take you”. His voice shakes as he leans into you once more.
You feel him clasping your hips, pressing his cock between your legs. “You want me to take you on the floor and make me spill my seeds deep into you”. He bites at you.
“Please Mycroft…” You moan and your body shivers with desire.
“Please what?” he growls, locking your lips in a fierce demanding kiss once more.
“Beg me for it. Tell me what you want girl.”
Heat streams, coiling between your legs.
“I need you. Fuck me. Fuck me hard.” Your desire for him reaches fresh heights, his words alone are enough to make you climax this mere moment.
His hands draw up along your neck and he presses you closer to him.
“Be careful what you wish for.” He purrs seductively.
He takes your hand and guides you away towards a large beast skin rug in front of the fireplace.
Lost in desire you kick of your heels and use your free hand to open some buttons of your blouse, time to give your throbbing breasts some more space.
You feel the softness of the skin hide beneath your feet and without giving you time to protest Mycroft pulls you with him to the floor and starts to undress what’s left of your blouse, it slides gently down your shoulders as he teases your skin with his fingers.
Grasping your skirt, he drags the silky fabric down over your hips and he slides his hands between your legs. He removes your black panty and you can feel him brush your moist flesh with his warm fingers. His fingers slowly enter your slit. The sensation stealing your breath.
His eyes glitter in the dimly lit room and you recognize the look of lust and passion.
“Damn… you’re so wet for me.” He groans.
You grip the front of his trousers and yank it down with one determined pull. A shiver moves down your spine as you see his hardened member begging for release. You slip down his underpants and wrap your hand around the throbbing erection. Giving it a few hard strokes.
Mycroft sits up and pulls you into his lap, locking your legs around his waist. While he takes of his shirt you can feel the heat pour from his body, filling your nostrils with the musky scent of man and sex.
He reaches out and cups your breasts, both thumbs making lazy circles over the sensitive nipples. “God, you’re beautiful” his voice gruff.
The slowness of his stroking makes you wriggle in anticipation. You can’t control yourself any longer and start to ride his cock. Enjoying the friction every time it comes in contact with your wetness.
Your actions don’t go unnoticed. Mycroft rolls onto his back and seats you on top of him.
“Fuck me” he commands.
You straddle his thighs in response. Steadying yourself on his torso with one hand and grasping his cock with the other; you slowly lower yourself onto his hard erection. The thickness of his cock fills you. You throw your hips back and forth, steadily increasing the pace and enjoying every moment of it.
Mycroft places his hands on your sides and lifts you a few inches up into the air. His actions gaining him more control over your thrusts. He keeps you steady and starts to thrust his pelvis upwards. Your quim sheathing him as he fucks you fast and deep. Placing his feet flat on the ground and bending his knees in another angle to gain an even tighter entrance into you.
His cock is buried completely inside of you. The obscene sounds of flesh on flesh fill the room.
His pace turns into a slow grinding rhythm, pushing in, pulling out and once more pushing in with delicious thrusts.
“Mine…” he mutters. His intense quick breathing signals you that his release is near.
Mycroft flips you around. Your belly comes to rest on the soft skin hide.
You get up on all fours and arch your ass backwards giving him better entrance. He places his cock at your opening and starts thrusting into you with fast short strokes. Head thrown back, he rides you hard, the striving thrust of his cock sending you closer to your own edge.
“I have so often envisioned my cum leaking from that tight slit of yours’. He groans. Digging his fingers into the soft curves of your ass and teasing your slit with his thumb. He moves his hand lower and starts to work on your clit in tight hard circles.
His stokes bring you closer and closer to climax. You scream out his name as your climax washes over you. Leaving your body trembling in pleasure unknown before.
“Mycroft… Fill me… “ you urge him on.
Mycroft groans, his hips jerking into yours and his rigid cock plumbing into you a few last times. You feel the heat when he stiffens and the cocks spills his release inside of you. Flooding you with his cum.