Let's have dinner.

Sherlock felt the sensations and shivers spreading all down his body and he began to find it impossible not to take some kind of enjoyment from it. He could feel her hand on his shirt playing with the buttons and wondered if she was planning to undo them. He would have to stop her of course. Wouldn't he? As she continued to kiss his neck he heard himself moan.

Irene's hand on the top button rested there, but the other one was drawing circles on the top of his head. She could not resist his hair. Short sighs escaped her lips between kisses on his neck and his Adam's apple. She felt his pulse quickening through his skin. She wondered what he was thinking. Undoubtedly, hers was quickening too.

Sherlock wondered if he should return the kisses so softly enveloping his skin. He knew it was customary to do so in these situations but he was completely cluesless on how one should go about it. He turned his head slightly towards Irene with a frown.

"Kissing...how do you...." he began, but trailed off. Hopefully she'd know what he meant without him having to elaborate further.

Irene grinned at his insecurity. How cute. But she understood his cluelessness. She showed him her bare neck by pushing her hair to the side.
"Just..." She breathed lowly. "Push your lips on my skin. Any skin." She smiled encouraging. She knew he could do this.

Sherlock turned his head towards Irene, his heart raced as he leant slightly towards her long pale neck. He pursed his lips, pushing them against her skin, trying to copy what she had done to him. His eyelids fluttered.

"Is this...OK...?" he stammered.

Irene had imagined how it would be, but nevertheless chills were terrorising her mind and body. What a pity that he is 'not interested'. The skin felt still hot after he retreated, like a mark.
"You're a fast learner" she sighed. She felt his fast breathing warm on her neck. Again she thought while her hand stroked his back.

Sherlock leaned in and cautiously repeated the process, this time with a little more confidence...a little more force in his lips. He moved his right hand and placed it on Irene's hip, feeling her smooth contours and perfect figure. He offered a series of small kisses travelling from the bottom of her neck to the top and finally giving her a tiny peck on the cheek before turning his head away again. He felt hot and flustered. He could feel his cheeks flushing red, his breathing heavy.

Irene moaned a little at the soft pleasurable pressure of Sherlock's lips. His hand on her hip did the trick. It felt like she burned from the inside out. She leaned into his hand and his lips. She brought her hand off his back, back to his hair and she pulled it a little.
"You are marvelous." She breathed as heavily as he did. God, that man could kiss.

"Marvelous?" he whispered. "No one's ever used that word to describe me before." Sherlock searched his mind, trying to remember whether John had ever said it. His eyes turned to the door and he imagined John upstairs in his room. It made him feel....sad.

The attention from Irene brought him back to reality and he looked up into her eyes. They were face to face now, Irene straddling his lap, their lips only an inch or two apart. He wondered what would come next in the natural order of things. Further kissing? Perhaps on the lips. Could he tolerate it? He frowned slightly, thinking.

"Hmmm-hmmm" Irene hummed. She was breathing heavily, wanting for more. But she knew she should be careful with Sherlock, she did not want to cross his borders again. So she rested her forehead on his sweaty one. She closed her eyes and rubbed her nose against his. "Don't think. It's annoying." she joked.
Slowly, very slowly she brought her mouth closer to his and finally kissed him gently and careful on his lips. She retreated, faced him again and smiled.

Sherlock closed his eyes, trying to empty his mind of the hundreds of jumbled up confused thoughts that were racing through his head at that moment. His body was telling him this felt good...his mind was telling him to run away. Who should he listen to?

As Irene brought her lips down on top of his train of thought was lost entirely. All he could feel was the soft velvet of her lips and the tingling sensation it sent down his. He pursed his lips a moment, responding to hers. Was this kissing back? he wondered. It felt...good.

Irene's heart went crazy when she felt him kissing back a little. This felt different. She had done this a lot of times, but with Sherlock it was different. The steadiness and slowliness added a new layer to the erotic actions. She wanted more, so she united her lips with his again, now for a longer time. Would he kiss back (again)?

As she held her lips against his Sherlock responded by opening his mouth a little wider, moving his lips down on hers. He had seen people kissing before...in films, in real life. He was quite certain he was doing it right, and was positively amazed by how it felt. He began to wonder why he'd never got round to doing this sooner.

He wrapped his arms round Irene's waist and brought her closer, allowing instinct to take over.

Irene gasped at Sherlock kissing back. She wondered if he'd really had never kissed girls, boys, humans. He was a great kisser. Irene felt in sync with him, the rythm of their lips dancing felt utterly brilliant.

As Sherlock pulled her closer, she could not resist a moan. As she was pressed to his chest, she felt his hart pounding. The physical contact felt amazing. She cupped his head in her hand, fondling his hair. The monster of lust awoke in her belly and she deepened their kiss by opening her lips a little more.

Sherlock's heart was racing wildly, his body fighting against the logical part of his mind that told him he should be doing this. Stop it! Push her off! he screamed at himself, and yet his hands found themselves grappling round her body and bringing her down on top of him, exploring round her back and down her waist line and thighs.

Sherlock taking the initiative, was much sexier than Irene could have believed it. Brainy was still the new sexy, but if that brain had an attractive body and a strong, unwillingly (and not asexual) character attached, the sensation of touch doubled in intensity. She could scream of arousal, but she could hold back and translate it in a series of moans. Irene made the kiss rougher and stroked his chest.

Sherlock heard himself moan out loud as Irene pressed her lips down roughly onto his, and carressed the bare chest inside his half opened shirt. He reached one hand down and undid the rest of the buttons, allowing her better access to his skin. Then he reached down to her bum and brought her closer into his hips.

"Mmm," he mumbled with pleasure, "Mmm John..." He suddenly stopped. Hang on a minute, did he just say John? Why would he say that? John's not even here. That made no sense.

Irene's mind and body was impregnated with pleasure and lust. Sherlock grabbing her bum and pressing her to his hips boosted the heat between the two. His enjoyment was very sensible through the fabric. Still kissing roughly and moaning, she traced her index finger from the top of his chest over his thin and muscular belly further down. She lingered at his belly button when he mumbled John's name.

Irene stiffened for a moment. Had he just called out John's name? This... envelopment caught her off guard, but she gave it a second thought. The frown on her face smoothed and raised one eyebrow. "Married to your work, huh?" She eyed him and giggled. She had proved that this man was not (at all) asexual. And now she had indirectly proved that he was not only attracted to his work. She had proved he was wrong. Sweet victory made her smile. She had known they were a couple from the first time they met.

"I'm not...John and I are....we're..." Sherlock was stammering. He realised he was beginning to sound like John every time he tried to deny they were a couple to anyone, so he closed his mouth and stopped talking. This latest development was...confusing to say the least. But he didn't have too much time to think about it, as Irene's fingers began to trace round his bellybutton, idly fiddling with his belt.

"You, my dear Sherlock. You are a couple." she whispered as she tapped the tip of his nose with her index finger. She stroked his hair out of the way of his forehead and fondled his hair again. She gave him a triumphant look and gave him a kiss on his cheek. "I've said it from the start, but you didn't listen."

((I don't intend to go.. all the way, if you know what I mean. My goal is almost achieved =)))

(( that's cool...take it as far as you like then I'll probably have Sherlock and John get it together, lol. But then maybe you could think of something to bring you back into the story later...maybe have some kind of case that interests Sherlock or something you need help with, and we could all go on a little adventure, with flirting. ))


Sherlock frowned. His mind was a mess of thoughts, questions, confusion and his body was still responding to Irene's careful touches and soft kisses.

"But....I....I don't..." He found it impossible to string a decent sentence together, he wasn't even sure what he was trying to say anyway.

He breathed in deeply to try and calm himself, taking in the strong scent of Irene's perfume. He leaned in closely to her neck, his lips gently running themselves along it, almost tasting the perfume.

Irene's eyes fluttered at the gentle touch of Sherlock's lips on her neck. She unbuttoned the top button of her red blouse so that her black bra was peeking through. She subtly moved until he was on top. She kissed him on the neck while rubbing her chest to his bare one. Suddenly, it didn't matter what he was about to say.

Sherlock suddenly found himself straddled on top of Irene, now in a position of power as opposed to being dominated and controlled.

It made him feel strangely relaxed, and he leaned in towards her neck, gently running his tongue across it up to her ear, mimicing the things she had done to him, wondering if he was getting it right.

His mind was still in a mess, confused about....everything.

The kisses felt heavenly on Irene's skin. She felt hot and her cheeks were flushed with heat. She unbuttoned the rest of her buttons. He was getting it very right. She arched her back for full skin-contact and heaved a sigh. She felt Sherlock responding to that and together their movements were totally in sync. God, this felt indeed, miraculous marvelous.

Sherlock was shocked when Irene unbuttoned herself, revealing only a lacy bra underneath. He gasped as he felt her bare skin against his. It was...something new, something...interesting. He continued to kiss her neck, and ran his hands down across both her arms.

He was obviously doing something right. She was making all these...noises...and Sherlock was surprised to hear himself make a few too. It was quite....quite....he was lost for words. Instead he continued to do what he was doing, slowly moving his kisses down towards her shoulder.