Love's Wanton Ways
by "Woof!"
Mary stumbled down the street. Her dress clung to her like a vine wrapped around a tall tree. The heavy downpour pounded her slight form, accentuating the curves under the thin material. Mary didn't care.
Mary Russell was running for her life. The large man had stepped out of the dark shadows with a gun when she was on her way to a lecture. He had chased after her for what seemed like an eternity.
Suddenly, Mary realized she had nowhere else to go.
"What do you want?" she called out to him.
"I am the evil half-brother of your aunt's lover! Your aunt became bitter after she failed to inherit the fortune. She scorned my brother, who flung himself in front of a potato cart and got mashed. I want revenge!"
Just then, a man in a dinner suit swung down from the tree above and knocked the villain unconscious.
"Holmes!" Mary exclaimed to her husband. Her heart was throbbing with fear and relief. "I was so scared!"
"There, there," Holmes replied, patting her hand. "Let me get you home, while the police handle all this. You'll feel better after you've had a nice, hot bath."
Mary let her husband peel off her wet clothing - slowly - and lower her into the tub at home. She peered at him through the bubbles as he washed away the dirt and her fears.
Once Mary was clean and dry, Holmes led her to the large bed. As he covered her with the blankets, she realized how sexy he looked in his dress clothes. The slight, yet muscular body. The long and capable hands. The distinctive features. The...
"Holmes?" she said, huskily. "I _need_ you."
"I _need_ you, too." He climbed into the bed and Mary could stand it no longer. She ripped his shirt open, revealing his manly chest hair.
"Oh, Holmes, you're such a stallion!"
"Oh, Holmes!" Mary choked out, her small chest heaving as best it could. She never had filled out much. "That was incredible!"
Holmes's strong, long, lean fingers stoked Mary's cheekbone. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. It was my pleasure."
"Holmes, I mean Sherlock, I've been a fool. What was I thinking? That just because I'm worth millions that I should be an educated woman with ideas of her own?" Her eyelids fluttered like a butterfly in the wind. "I'd much rather stay home and bake bread and raise small children - yours, of course."
"Oh, Russ!" Holmes sighed. "I've waited so long to hear you say that! I took you on as apprentice to be closer to you, in hopes that you would one day come to your senses. Oh, happy day!"
"I love you, Sherlock!" Mary cried, flinging her arms around his neck.
"I love you, Mary!" Holmes replied. "Let us make mad, passionate love forever. Or until tea time, whichever comes first."
"Oh, yes! Yes!"