The Tattooed Gentleman Ch. 02

Author's Note:

Sherlock Holmes needs no introduction, but to understand who Miss Deveraux is and what she and Holmes are up to, you really need to read Chapter 1 first.

CHAPTER 2, DEVEREAUX

On the street outside 221B Baker Street, a whistle from Mr. Holmes produced a hansom cab and he gave the driver the address of Madame DePanne's place of business.

"When we arrive, tell Madame that I will be purchasing your time for the rest of the evening. The Foreign Office has an unrestricted requisition for my services, both time and expenses. Then take me immediately to your rooms. I hope no one has disturbed anything while you have been away."

"I left in too much of a hurry to request the chambermaid to change the sheets or air out the room. It probably still stinks of his sweat and our rutting."

"Very good", said Holmes. "Did he smoke at all in your room? Might he have left any personal items behind in his haste to retire?"

"Unless something fell out of one his pockets, I doubt it. He did not smoke in my presence, nor did I detect any smell of tobacco about him. He left his overcoat in the sitting room and didn't remove any clothing; I just dropped his trousers to his knees to give him some oral attention to get things started, then pushed them down to his ankles when I climbed on."

About this time the cab arrived at my lodgings. Mr. Holmes gave me his card to take in to Madame while he talked to Boris, the doorman. Upon advising Madame that I was assigned for the rest of the night I waited for Mr. Holmes in the sitting room and when he arrived we removed up the stairs to my room. He instructed me to sit aside while he examined the bed and the floor around it for any evidence, salvaging a strand of the punter's hair from the pillow. He then sat in my wing chair, put his feet up on the ottoman before it, and bade me pantomime our exact movements during the tryst, to the finest detail. I once had held hope of a career on the stage and I applied all my acting skills to the task. When I finally summarized how my client, upon achieving the release he sought, had buttoned up his trousers and quickly departed, it came as a surprise to realize I was starkers from the waist down and a bit flushed from acting out the scene.

"My powers of observation, Mr. Holmes, are no match for yours. But the swelling I see in your trousers suggests an awareness of my sexuality. I would be lying if I denied a desire to see if the endowment boasted by your brother runs in the family. Sir Mycroft possesses a shaft of better than average length and prodigious girth. But, being a fat man, his belly prevents him the exercise of its full extent. You, by contrast, are lean and nothing stands in the way of my quim swallowing every inch. If yours were to match or, dare I hope, exceed his stature a woman could lose herself in the enjoyment of it."

I crossed the room, pushed his feet from the ottoman upon which they rested, and perched myself in their place. Reaching forward I unbuckled his belt and unfastened his buttons then reached in to withdraw his tool. As my hand grasped it I almost fainted in disbelief as I realized it was as yet only half hard but already of a length and thickness worth boasting about.

"Mr. Holmes, this is a rod the likes of which we ladies of the evening gossip about in the sitting room while waiting for our next gentleman to call. Pray, let me have my way with it to our mutual pleasure. Be so kind as to undo my remaining buttons and stays while I disencumber you of all that stands between your flesh and mine."

So saying, I proceeded to put my words into action and he dexterously exhibited his familiarity with the minutiae of a woman's undergarments and their various methods of fastening. In a trice we were both naked. Then, after applying a dollop of lotion, I enveloped his swelling tool between my ample breasts and began to slowly massage it with the goal of expressing it to its greatest extent. Its greatest extent proved to be astonishing. Never had I beheld one so long, so thick, so throbbing with latent energy and the promise of exploring my vagina to depths previously unplumbed. He expressed a copious leakage of fluid from the tip which I spread liberally along the entire length and girth. My own fluid discharge exceeded his and yet I knew that even with the surfeit of lubricant, when the time came for the introduction of that weapon of lust to my opening, I would be stretched to an extent beyond any previous experience.

I could wait no longer. I encouraged Mr. Holmes to slide forward from the chair to the ottoman and, straddling him with my feet on the floor I lowered myself onto him. As the cockhead stretched my outer lips to allow its passage, a tingling sensation began that ran from my clitty to my nipples as my gateway stretched to accommodate such a girth as I had never previously known. The sensation grew and sharpened as I slowly swallowed each additional fraction of that magnificent shaft. It seemed an eternity before my ass cheeks bottomed out against his legs and the sensation was so intense I all but swooned. Proud that I had taken it all inside me, all I desired now was to luxuriate in the feeling of being so thoroughly filled. Never before had I been host to so much male flesh within me. I leaned backward as I rose and squealed with delight at the sensation of the top of that rod rubbing against my clitty, then leaned forward to drop back down, leaned back as I rose, over and over again, faster and faster. As the first wave of the 'little death' swept over me, my entire world became one with the sensations. With my eyes closed all the colors of the rainbow played on the backs of my eyelids, the pungent odors of our coupling assaulted my nostrils, the grunts we made each time I bottomed rang in my ears, it was as if sparks leapt from my fingers to his flesh wherever I touched him. Another wave swept over me, stronger than the first, followed by another, after a shorter interval. Soon they were rolling though my body so rapidly and with such intensity that I could not help but vocalize, uttering primal grunts until I was overcome by the surfeit of sensations.

Slowly I regained my senses, still filled with his slightly deflated, though still rampant member. How long I had been insensate, I knew not. "Dear lady", said he, "pray let me carry you to your bed and let me explore your depths at a less frantic pace now that you have scratched the imperative itch of initial passion. I have learned some techniques which I believe will enhance the experience to our mutually beneficial delight". With that he lifted me, still coupled, as he himself stood. I am not a small woman, but he carried me effortlessly from chair to bed. At each step, I swear his tool pulsed, one step increasing the girth, the next step modulating the length to probe around the entrance to my womb. By the time he laid me upon the bed I was already quivering with anticipation as to what new heights of ecstasy might be in store.

The man seemingly had the strength of twenty and the dexterity of a circus contortionist as he positioned both of us upon the satin sheets, never breaking the contact that bound us together. He squatted deeply upon the bed with his bollocks hanging just above the sheets while I lay on my back with my knees hooked over his shoulders angling my love channel slightly upward. He reached his arms behind my back and placed his hands upon the backs of my shoulders. Thus coupled, he rocked from his hips, delving as deeply into me as anyone had ever done while the placement of his hands prevented me from sliding across the smooth sheet from the force of his thrusts. He constantly changed the angle of his attack to massage his massive cockhead alternately against the front and then the back side of my innards. Occasionally he would stop thrusting and exhibit an uncanny control of his musculature whereby he would send a bulge in the diameter of his sword rolling from the root of that member to the tip whereupon it deflated to be followed by series of similar pulses alike to the cars of a train pounding down the tracks. The sensations produced by that incredible display soon bore me to the gates of orgasm after orgasm until I felt I could bear no more. Just as I felt on the verge of blacking out once more he paused in his onslaught and announced himself to be on the verge of his own climax and to prepare myself for it. I knew not what to expect, but urged him to spare nothing. Far from being sated, the experiences thus far had left me in eager anticipation of whatever new sensations his magnificent shaft and his exquisite control thereof could overwhelm me with.

Resuming his thrusting, he soon growled as his bollocks released the first jet past his prostate and I felt it swell his member as it reached the root and passed down the long channel to explode from the tip. I swear it felt like pissing in reverse as jet after jet of his issue bathed my innards, mingling with my own copious discharge, the twain filling the voids unfilled by his cock. The tightness of the fit of his shaft in my entrance precluded the escape of any of the mixed fluids of our mutual lust. I believe I briefly swooned yet again as I was overwhelmed with power of our mutual orgasm. As I came back to my senses he began to deflate and he rocked back to disengage whereupon my quim released a flood of the musky mixture to spread across the bedsheet. I have had dozens of men spend themselves within me, but never has my bed been flooded as it was that night with our mingled juices, the scent of which filled the air with an aroma of lust that delighted my nostrils and triggered a longing to immediately recommence even though my weary loins begged a respite.

"My God, Mr. Holmes. Never have I been so thoroughly and deliciously pleasured! For so many years I have been but a means to an end for my clients, playacting my passion to inflame that of theirs. I had despaired of ever being brought to such utter abandonment as you have elicited in me tonight. We girls in the establishment, knowing best what excites another woman, do what we can for each other and that helps, but your prowess exceeds the sum of every memorable fuck since I was deflowered. "

"The pleasure was mutual, I assure you", said Mr. Holmes. "Few are the women who have been able to keep pace with me. You took everything I had to offer, matched me thrust for thrust, and at a point where other women have begged me cease, you urged me on. I look forward to further assignations. But now, I fear we must hasten to my brother at the Diogenes Club, there to relate your remarkable tale of the gentleman caller with the mysterious tattoo. "