Study in Scarlet. Ch. 1

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Sherlock Holmes in future free use sex world.
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Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Jenny Watson. A study in Scarlet. Chapter 1

***

Author's Notes: As is usual to state on Literotica, in case it is not clear enough from the story itself, all characters participating in sexual acts occurring in this story are at least 18 years of age.

***

In 2878, I graduated from the University of London, receiving the title of doctor, and immediately went to Netley, where I took a special course for military surgeons. After finishing my studies, I was appointed as an assistant surgeon in the Fifth Orbital Infantry Regiment. At that time, the regiment was circling in lunar orbit, and before I had time to reach it, the second war with the Martians broke out.

Having landed on the Moon in the Sea of ​​Tranquility, I learned that my regiment had moved to Mars and was already halfway to the Red Planet. Together with other officers who found themselves in the same situation, I set off in pursuit of my regiment; On the mail boats I managed to get to the Sixth Station, where the flagship of our regiment, the Joan of Arc, was moored. I found him and immediately began my new duties - literally a month later, "Joan of Arc" was transferred to Deimos, where she fought against the chitinous shells of the Martians.

While this campaign brought honors and promotions to many, I received nothing but failure and misfortune. After the destruction of the Joan of Arc by the Martians, I was transferred to the Third Airborne Regiment to fight not in space, but on the surface of an enemy planet, with whom I participated in the fatal battle for Mount Olympus.

The poisoned tentacle of the elephant fox tore my space suit, penetrated my anus, ate my rectum, and a small amount of acid even reached my stomach. Most likely, I would have fallen into the hands of merciless intelligent mollusks, who would have tortured me without sex for a very long time, if not for the devotion and courage of my slave Marri, who, despite her fragility and weakness, managed to throw me over the back of a giant mantis used by the settlers for transportation. cargo, and thus managed to safely deliver it to the location of the earthly troops.

Tormented by an anal wound and weakened by prolonged deprivation, I, along with many other wounded sufferers, was sent by cargo shuttle to the main hospital on Phobos. There I began to gradually recover and was already so strong that I could move around the ward and have sex with other convalescents in their beds, and not just take a penis in my mouth while lying in mine.

I even began to manage not to wince in pain when my partner touched my anus, although anal sex itself, which I loved so much before the injury, was still impossible. Suddenly, due to my own forgetfulness, I sharply aggravated the situation. A handsome soldier from Ganymede was transferred to our ward and, of course, immediately after meeting him I decided to give him a deep blowjob. And it was a terrible mistake, which I later regretted more than once. To this day I cannot understand how, having a medical education, I missed such a detail about the physiology of the Ganymedan colonists.

The fact is that in a calm state the member of the Ganymede is very small - less than seven centimeters. But when erect, it grows not twice as big as in earthlings or Venusians, but ten to fifteen, that is, up to a meter. And Vortis (that was his name), without asking about my injury, naturally, very quickly reached the point - his hose slipped through my neck and ended up in my stomach.

Everything would be fine, but there is still some Martian acid left in the stomach. The sperm of the Ganymedeans reacted with her, I screamed with good obscenities from hellish pain, but Vortis did not hear anything, his penis muffled all sounds, and so he continued to ram me for another minute while I cried, my eyes widened, I fluttered and pinched his legs and buttocks. It seemed to him that this was normal behavior for an earthly girl during a blowjob.

For several months I was considered almost hopeless, and when I finally returned to life, I could barely stand on my feet from weakness and exhaustion, and the doctors decided that I needed to be sent to Earth immediately. I flew away on the Marie Curie military transport and a month later landed on the asphalt of the Newcastle spaceport with irreparably damaged health, but with permission from the paternal and caring government to restore it within nine months.

On Earth I had neither close friends nor relatives, and I was free as the wind, or rather, like a man who was supposed to live on eleven shillings and sixpence a day. Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated to London, to that huge dustbin where slackers and lazy people from all over the solar system inevitably end up.

In London I lived for some time in a hotel on the Strand and eked out an uncomfortable and meaningless existence, spending my pennies much more freely than I should have. Finally, my financial situation became so threatening that I soon realized: it was necessary either to flee the capital and vegetate somewhere in the countryside, or to radically change my lifestyle. Having chosen the latter, I first decided to leave the hotel and find myself some more unpretentious and less expensive accommodation.

The day I came to this decision, someone put their hands on my chest in the Criterion bar. Turning around, I saw young Stamford, who had once worked for me as a medical assistant in a London hospital. How nice it is for a lonely girl to suddenly see a familiar face in the vast wilds of London! In the old days, Stamford and I had never been particularly friendly and rarely even had sex, but now I greeted him almost with delight, and he, too, seemed glad to see me. Out of an abundance of feelings, I invited him on an aerial ride over the city (having spent my last money on it) and we immediately took a gravity plane with a guide and flew off.

-What have you done to yourself, Watson? -- he asked with undisguised curiosity when I took off my blouse and settled down on the floor of the vehicle to touch my old friend's penis with my lips and tongue. -You lick the penis, not swallow it! And before, I remember, they could take you right up to the balls, and they barked so fervently! Where is everyone, Jenny?

I stopped the clumsy caresses and began to tell him about my misadventures, explaining the fact that now, out of the three main types of sex, only two were available to me, and even then, I was afraid to do a deep blowjob for purely psychological reasons; the memory of Ganymedean member, who almost sent me to the next world.

As for the classics, there were no restrictions, but I was embarrassed to offer vaginal sex to Stamford, because today, instead of strict slips, I wore very childish white panties with baby elephants - obviously, I didn't expect to meet someone I knew at the bar, so I didn't dress up.

So I just tickled his penis with my curls, hoping that it would give him at least some pleasure and narrated the story. Judging by the satisfied smile of the paramedic, it was so. The guide Daisy, a pretty girl of about twenty, seeing that we were not too interested in the excursion, knelt down next to me, unbuttoned her blouse and exposed her lovely breasts. Then the girl began to pinch my nipples with one palm and stroke Stamford's penis with the other. Realizing that I was not going to take it in my mouth, she did it for me.

The paramedic wrapped her straight hair around his fist and began to gently apply it to his penis. Daisy made pleasant squelching sounds, not forgetting to pull my nipples. I looked with sadness at how the penis disappeared in her mouth and appeared already dressed in saliva and remembered those times when I myself could caress any guy right away.

I barely had time to finish the story before we reached the place.

- Eh, poor fellow! - he sympathized when he learned about my troubles. - Well, what are you doing now?

"I'm looking for an apartment," I answered, straightening my skirt. -- I'm trying to solve the question of whether there are comfortable rooms in the world at a reasonable price.

"That's strange," my companion remarked, "you are the second person from whom I have heard this phrase today."

- Who's first? - I asked.

-- One guy who works in the chemical laboratory at our hospital. This morning he was complaining: he had found a very nice apartment and could not find a companion, and he could not afford to pay for it in full.

- Damn it! - I exclaimed, joyfully kissing the crimson cheek of the guide, who, in tears, tried to take Stamford's penis to the end, but her nose still could not rest against the paramedic's shaggy pubis. "If he really wants to share the apartment and expenses, then I'm at his service!" I also find it much more pleasant to live together than to live alone!

Young Stamford somehow looked at me vaguely over the guide, who had almost brought her partner to the finish line.

- You still don't know what this Sherlock is Hooo-oooo-lms! - he said as he came. "Perhaps you won't want to live in constant proximity with him."

- Why? Why is he bad? -- I moved closer and helped the guide collect all of Stamford's sperm. He came profusely, so that the entire chin and nose of the girl guide were dirty. I used my lips and tongue to collect the spicy spray from Daisy's face while Stamford buttoned up his trousers.

- I'm not saying he's bad. Just a little eccentric - an enthusiast of some areas of science. But in general, as far as I know, he is a decent person.

- He probably wants to become a doctor? - I asked. Stamford leaned over and kissed the guide and me on the lips in turn.

- No, I don't even understand what he wants. In my opinion, he knows anatomy very well, and he is a first-class chemist, but it seems that he has never studied medicine systematically. He deals with science completely haphazardly and somehow strangely, but he has accumulated a lot of seemingly unnecessary knowledge for the business, which would surprise the professors quite a bit.

"Have you ever asked what his goal is?" -- I asked, caressing Daisy's breasts, who moved closer to me, I even felt her with my thigh. Unable to resist, I put my hand on the girl's bare knee. Such an intimate gesture made Daisy blush.

Surprisingly, the guide, whose job it was to chat about various attractions, did not say a word the entire time; we even learned her name only because it was written on her badge. Maybe she's mute?

- No, it's not so easy to get something out of him, although if he's passionate about something, sometimes you can't stop him.

- How does he feel about anal?

- In my opinion, indifferent, unless these are nineteen-year-old anal virgins. He likes classics and blowjobs more, he loves facials, if I'm not mistaken.

"I wouldn't mind meeting him," I said. "If you're going to have a roommate, then it's better to be a quiet person and certainly not a fan of anal." I am not strong enough to endure the noise and attacks on my bottom. I had so much of both on Mars and in the hospital that I'll have enough for the rest of my earthly existence. How can I meet your friend?

"He's probably sitting in the laboratory now," my companion answered. "He either doesn't look there for weeks at a time, or hangs out there from morning to evening." If you want, we'll go to him after breakfast.

"Of course I want to," I said, we got dressed and the conversation moved on to other topics.

When the flight time was up, we got off the excursion grav plane and caught an air taxi. Stamford managed to tell me some more features of the gentleman with whom I was going to live together.

"Don't be offended at me if you don't get along with him," he said. "I only know him from random meetings in the laboratory." You decided on this combination yourself, so don't hold me responsible for what happens next.

"If we don't get along, nothing will stop us from parting," I answered. "But it seems to me, Stamford," I added, looking intently at my companion, "that for some reason you want to wash your hands of it." Well, this guy has a terrible character, or what? Don't be secretive, for God's sake!

"Try to explain the inexplicable," Stamford laughed. - For my taste, Holmes is too obsessed with science - this already borders on callousness. I can easily imagine that he would inject his friend with a small dose of some newly discovered plant aphrodisiac, not out of malice, of course, but simply out of curiosity, in order to have a visual idea of ​​​​its effect. However, to be fair to him, I am sure that he would just as willingly give this injection to himself. He has a passion for accurate and reliable knowledge.

- Well, that's not bad.

- Yes, but even here you can go to extremes. If it comes to the fact that he excites the corpses in the anatomy with a vacuum pump, you must agree that this looks rather strange.

- Corpses? Vacuum pump?

- Yes, to check whether an erection can appear after death. I saw it with my own eyes.

- And you say that he is not going to become a doctor?

- Apparently not. Only God knows why he is studying all this. But here we are, and now you can judge it for yourself.

We landed in the courtyard and entered through a small door into an outbuilding adjacent to the huge hospital building. Everything was familiar here, and I didn't need directions as we climbed the narrow metal stairs and walked down a long corridor along endless whitewashed walls with brown doors on either side. Almost at the very end, a low arched corridor went off to the side - it led to the chemical laboratory.

In this high room, countless bottles and vials glittered on shelves and everywhere. There were low, wide tables everywhere, thickly laden with retorts, test tubes, and Bunsen burners with flickering tongues of blue flame. The laboratory was empty, and only in the far corner, bent over the table, a young man was intently fiddling with something. Hearing our steps, he looked around and jumped up, frightening the dark-haired girl who was giving him a blowjob under the table.

- Found! Found! - he shouted jubilantly, trying to rush towards us with a test tube in his hands - but his oral sex partner reminded of her existence by furiously impaling herself on his penis. - I'm naaaah! - finally came the reagent, which is precipitated only by sperm and nothing else!

If he had found gold placers, then, probably, his face would not have shone with such delight. However, perhaps the fact that he put his hand on the back of the brunette's head and pressed, forcing her to choke on his penis, also played a role. I sadly imagined my reaction when he would do the same to me while we were living in the same apartment.

"Doctor Watson, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," Stamford introduced us to each other.

- Hello! - Holmes said affably, squeezing my chest with a force that I could not at all suspect in him. - I see you lived on Mars.

- How did you guess? - I was amazed.

"Well, it's nothing," he said, grinning. - The reagent is a different matter. You, of course, understand the importance of my discovery! - tiya?

The brunette pulled herself off the penis with a squelch, rose from her knees and kissed Sherlock right on the lips. He licked his lips and gave her a final slap on the butt. I winced again, imagining that he would spank me where it hurt. The girl walked away, wiggling her delicious butt.

"As a chemical reaction, this is, of course, interesting," I answered, "but practically...

- Lord, this is the most practically important discovery for forensic medicine in decades. Don't you understand that this makes it possible to accurately detect traces of sperm, even if it was spilled decades ago! Come on, come here! "In the heat of impatience, he grabbed my hand and dragged me to his desk. "Let's take this scraping of paint from the shelf, I came on it a week ago," he said.

I was embarrassed to ask why he came on the shelf, and not in the mouth of his pretty assistant, if it was an assistant, of course.

"Now I'll put it in a container of water," Holmes continued. - Look, the water seems completely clean. The ratio of sperm in water is no more than one to a billion. And yet, I guarantee you that we will get a characteristic reaction. "He threw several white crystals into a glass jar and dripped some colorless liquid into it. The contents of the jar instantly turned a dull whitish color, and a turquoise sediment appeared at the bottom.

- Ha, ha! "He clapped his hands, beaming with joy, like a child who has received a new toy. - What do you think of it?

"This is apparently some kind of very strong reagent," I noted.

- Wonderful! Wonderful! The previous method with infrared rays is very cumbersome and unreliable, as is examining traces of sperm under a microscope - it is generally useless if more than a couple of days have passed since ejaculation. And this reagent works equally well whether the sperm is fresh or not. If it had been opened earlier, then hundreds of people who are now walking free would have long ago paid for their crimes.

- That's how it is! - I muttered.

-- Solving crimes always comes up against this problem. A person begins to be suspected of anal rape of persons under nineteen years of age, perhaps several months after it has been committed. They look through his underwear or dress and find stains. What is it: sour cream, mayonnaise, sperm, coconut milk or something else? This is the question that has puzzled many experts: why? Because there was no reliable reagent. Now we have the Sherlock Holmes reagent, and all difficulties are over!

His eyes sparkled, he put his hand to his chest and bowed as if responding to the applause of an imaginary crowd.

"We can congratulate you," I said, quite amazed at his enthusiasm.

"A year ago, the complicated case of von Bischoff was being sorted out on Mercury. He, of course, would have been excommunicated from sex for several months if my method had been known then. And what about Mason from Pluto, and the famous Muller, and Lefebvre from Titania, and Samson from the Asteroid Belt? I can name dozens of cases in which my reagent would play a decisive role.

"You're just a walking chronicle of crime," Stamford laughed. -- You should launch your own website. Call it "Police News of the Past."

"And it would be a very fascinating read," Sherlock Holmes chimed in, taping up the scraped area on the shelf. "You have to be careful," he continued, turning to us with a smile, "eighteen-year-old girls who have been raped in the ass often come to me." They have delicate skin; they should not be allowed to get scratched on the sharp edges of the shelves. "He reached out and twisted my nipples. I groaned and blushed.

"We came on business," Stamford said, sitting down on a high three-legged stool and drawing me to him. I obediently got down on my knees, placing a special inflatable pillow under them, which I took out of my purse. Trying to overcome the psychological barrier, I cast aside thoughts of the Ganymedean penis and swallowed Stamford's penis - My friend is looking for housing, and since you complained that you could not find a companion, I decided that you needed to be re-eeeeeeeed.

Sherlock Holmes obviously liked the prospect of sharing an apartment with me. He patted me on the back while I was pleasing the paramedic with my tongue and lips.

"You know, I've got my eye on an apartment on Baker Street," he said, which will suit you and me in every way. I hope you don't mind cowgirl sex?

"Fif if my faforif pofe," I answered, gurgling with Stamford's dick. I still didn't dare take it even half the length.

- So that's great. I usually keep chemicals at home and perform experiments from time to time, including having sex with non-humanoids from Jupiter and Saturn. Will this bother you?

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