Molly woke up to something rubbing against her lower body. She blinked her eyes open rapidly, trying to gather an awareness of her surroundings. It didn’t take long. She was used to Sherlock cuddling or rubbing his body along hers in his sleep. This time, though, there seemed to be an air of urgency about him. It took her longer than she would have liked to realise that he had her cock in his hand, stroking her into hardness. “Sher-“ she swallowed, grimacing at the taste in her mouth. “Sherlock? What’s wrong?”
His eyes, bright even in the dark, were wild. “What do you think?” he hissed. “This is your bloody fault. Hormones. I need—“ he reached for her and Molly sat up, taking hold of his shoulders.
“Are you sure? At this stage, I’m not sure...” Even now she worried. Molly didn’t understand how he was so completely insatiable at only five months. After the first few months she had resigned herself to wanking alone, but once his body had started growing big and healthy—well, so had his libido.
Molly reached towards his cock, hot and damp in her palm, and started stroking him. He made a sound, shuddering against her shoulder. “Do you want me to suck you off?” she whispered in his ear, encouraging by his soft moan. He liked missionary, but she knew it hurt his back. “You can fuck my mouth, hm? Or you could ride me if you’re up for it.”
Sherlock nuzzled his damp forehead into her neck, inhaling the fertile scent. He would love to ride her, but his legs already felt like gelatin and he doubted he would be much help. So he reached for the headboard and pulled himself up, allowing Molly to take the initiative and pull down his pants. “Good?”
Sherlock looked down at her and nodded, resting his knees firmly on either side of her head. He knew it was an awkward position for her—one that required the help of a pillow—but he was grateful all the same. “I just want you all the time,” he whined, as if defending his own actions. He hated the tone of his voice—as if he were just some simpering omega that…had the most amazing mate ever.
Sherlock’s head dropped and he rocked his hips into the warmth of Molly’s mouth. “Oh God.” Biting his lip, he dropped one hand and buried it into Molly’s hair, pulling her toward him. Molly moaned and relaxed her mouth before swallowing.
Sherlock squirmed, his hips stuttering. “Molly.” He started with a gentle rhythm, shivering with each hot, wet pull. His pace stayed lazy and sedate, relishing in each drag of his prick between her lips. Molly let him take control, but her tongue stayed pressed firmly on the underside.
“Mmn, Molly.” Sherlock’s mouth hung open, his tongue darting to wet his lips. Molly moved forward until her nose touched the coarse hair around his pelvis and moaned purposefully. Sherlock echoed her, rocking more forcefully into her mouth. “Oh god, your mouth.” He took hold of her hair and shoved his cock as far as it would go. While he was small, Molly still choked in her surprise before she caught herself and forced her throat to relax, breathing through her nose.
Sherlock made those high whimpering noises that signaled he was about to come; and sure enough he froze, sobbing as he shuddered and came. Molly only had to swallow, tasting little to nothing.
When she was sure that Sherlock was spent, she pulled back, pausing to clean him with her tongue. “Better?” She asked, ready to ignore her own need. Sherlock was often too tired after an orgasm this late to even think about her. True to her assumptions, he slumped down and laid his head on her chest, groaning happily. “It was perfect. You’re perfect. Sherlock Jr. is very happy as well.”
“You’re welcome.” Molly laughed. “You’re an odd one, Sherlock. Sherlock Jr.? Is that what we’re naming them?”
“Yep.” Sherlock smacked his lips and turned, sighing with content. Molly twitched, wanting so badly to put a hand on herself, but would have to wait until Sherlock fell asleep and inevitably rolled away. If she didn’t die from sexual frustration at that point.
“The things I do for you,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his nearest body part. He giggled, eyes already drooping.
“You love me.”
“I do.” Molly rested her hand on his bloated stomach, smoothing her fingers over the skin. “I really do.”
Re: Baby fill continued - (p7.2)
His eyes, bright even in the dark, were wild. “What do you think?” he hissed. “This is your bloody fault. Hormones. I need—“ he reached for her and Molly sat up, taking hold of his shoulders.
“Are you sure? At this stage, I’m not sure...” Even now she worried. Molly didn’t understand how he was so completely insatiable at only five months. After the first few months she had resigned herself to wanking alone, but once his body had started growing big and healthy—well, so had his libido.
Molly reached towards his cock, hot and damp in her palm, and started stroking him. He made a sound, shuddering against her shoulder. “Do you want me to suck you off?” she whispered in his ear, encouraging by his soft moan. He liked missionary, but she knew it hurt his back. “You can fuck my mouth, hm? Or you could ride me if you’re up for it.”
Sherlock nuzzled his damp forehead into her neck, inhaling the fertile scent. He would love to ride her, but his legs already felt like gelatin and he doubted he would be much help. So he reached for the headboard and pulled himself up, allowing Molly to take the initiative and pull down his pants. “Good?”
Sherlock looked down at her and nodded, resting his knees firmly on either side of her head. He knew it was an awkward position for her—one that required the help of a pillow—but he was grateful all the same. “I just want you all the time,” he whined, as if defending his own actions. He hated the tone of his voice—as if he were just some simpering omega that…had the most amazing mate ever.
Sherlock’s head dropped and he rocked his hips into the warmth of Molly’s mouth. “Oh God.” Biting his lip, he dropped one hand and buried it into Molly’s hair, pulling her toward him. Molly moaned and relaxed her mouth before swallowing.
Sherlock squirmed, his hips stuttering. “Molly.” He started with a gentle rhythm, shivering with each hot, wet pull. His pace stayed lazy and sedate, relishing in each drag of his prick between her lips. Molly let him take control, but her tongue stayed pressed firmly on the underside.
“Mmn, Molly.” Sherlock’s mouth hung open, his tongue darting to wet his lips. Molly moved forward until her nose touched the coarse hair around his pelvis and moaned purposefully. Sherlock echoed her, rocking more forcefully into her mouth. “Oh god, your mouth.” He took hold of her hair and shoved his cock as far as it would go. While he was small, Molly still choked in her surprise before she caught herself and forced her throat to relax, breathing through her nose.
Sherlock made those high whimpering noises that signaled he was about to come; and sure enough he froze, sobbing as he shuddered and came. Molly only had to swallow, tasting little to nothing.
When she was sure that Sherlock was spent, she pulled back, pausing to clean him with her tongue. “Better?” She asked, ready to ignore her own need. Sherlock was often too tired after an orgasm this late to even think about her. True to her assumptions, he slumped down and laid his head on her chest, groaning happily. “It was perfect. You’re perfect. Sherlock Jr. is very happy as well.”
“You’re welcome.” Molly laughed. “You’re an odd one, Sherlock. Sherlock Jr.? Is that what we’re naming them?”
“Yep.” Sherlock smacked his lips and turned, sighing with content. Molly twitched, wanting so badly to put a hand on herself, but would have to wait until Sherlock fell asleep and inevitably rolled away. If she didn’t die from sexual frustration at that point.
“The things I do for you,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his nearest body part. He giggled, eyes already drooping.
“You love me.”
“I do.” Molly rested her hand on his bloated stomach, smoothing her fingers over the skin. “I really do.”