drwhitly | Closed to statuethief

Closed to statuethief

Martin was out cold for a lot longer than he would have anticipated. Of course, he woke up without much concept of time until he fully was lucid for a few days. He was set up in quite a nice flat. This Irene Adler really held up her end of the deal and he knew he had struck a deal with the devil, but he was loving it.

So on his second week in London, actually capable of moving about, he got himself a haircut and a shave. He now had the funds so he was able to buy a suit and look quite presentable. Nothing like his incarcerated self.

Then he found the guinea pig cafe.

She had to know that he had 'passed' since it was in the news, causing him to wait a while before coming out of hiding. Still, Martin grinned as he approached the tiny cafe, seeing that it was a bit different than what he had imagined from her description of it. He casually walked inside as if he were anyone else.

"Do I just take a seat anywhere or..."

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"He did seem to enjoy it."

She reaches her free hand back to touch some part of him.

"See, you're just a giver." She chuckles. "Willing to fuck me with anything."

"I bet he did," It'd be a stupid man to not. "Did you suck his cock?"

He felt her hand reaching back and took it in his.

"Literally anything," he chuckled despite continuing to give it to her in the ass. Despite the slower pace, he did find his pleasure rising from the tight hole; the description of her with another man also seemed to have helped.

"I didn't. I save blowjobs for the men I actually like. He was just there for a fuck, never to be seen again." It was a great part of London, there was a good chance she literally wouldn't ever cross paths again.

"He didn't eat pussy as good as you do."

"You're going to find most men don't do things as good as I do." he liked that she prioritized and saved things for him. It re-affirmed that he was superior to these other nobodies.

Thrusting harder and increasing his pace, he found himself trying to hold back, to make it last, but it had been quite some time since they had been together. So without much warning he gripped hard into her hips and rapidly chased the pleasure that he released with a groan.

He is far superior to just about everyone when it comes to fucking, she wonders if it is the same kind of passion he puts into killing.

She can feel him spill inside her, always a strange sort of sensation. She follows quickly after, bringing herself to a shuddering climax.

"Fuck, I've missed you, Martin."

Pulling out of her, he helps her flip onto her back before he sits beside her on the cool table.

"I'm sorry if I scared you." He said as he leans in to kiss her. "Faking your death is a nasty business that happens rather quickly."

"But now you never have to leave at the end of visiting hours."

She wraps an arm around him and chuckles.

"Well, it looks like it worked out well for both of us." She lets the kiss linger for a while. "I could do something crazy like spending the night."

"You could!" He raised his eyebrows as he looked at her. "Would you be so brave as to fall asleep next to a serial killer?" His arm went around her as well.

"Are you hungry? We could make something or order delivery."

"You've already assured me I'm not your type." She kisses him again "at least not your murder type."

She nods, "that sounds very nice. And we don't even need to drink toilet wine."

He laughed taking note of her excellent memory. "And what a waste to have invested time into you only to do you off." He shakes his head at the thought.

"We don't. There's some excellent merlot in the kitchen." Standing, he puts his pants back on and looks to her, "I'll pour us some glasses."

"And I'm such a good date." She teases, "you bring out the most kinky parts of me."

Thus the fucking on his murder table. She stands to straighten herself out.

"I never did see your bedroom."

"Working in this room will certainly have a different feel to it after today." He glanced at the table before his eyes raised to her.

"Oh, it's quite posh," he describes. "I don't know who decorated it, but they pulled out all of the stops." This Ms. Adler didn't cut corners. "Do you want to see it now or after we eat?"

"Well, I assume you always get a murder erection anyway." It's probably terrible how easily she makes murder jokes.

"Let's eat first. I need strength to handle you." She grins and grabs his hand to head back upstairs.

Martin laughed. “I suppose that happens occasionally.” Or every time. It was a whole thing. “It’s fortunate that I don’t have an audience.”

Leading her back to his flat, opened the door for her to walk in past him, allowing him to grab her ass and give it a squeeze. “You take it like a pro, don’t you?” Seeing that she was able to walk so easily after what he had done.

"Just occasionally?" She doesn't believe that for a minute.

"It's a gift." She's had many concerns about the ease with which she has anal, but it seems to be a plus, really. "This place is so nice."

“No one ever found semen on or in my victims,” he reminded her, wagging a finger as he did.

“It truly is!” He looked to her as they entered the flat. “Married for nearly a decade and I only got it maybe twice. I was a deprived man for so long.” Not to mention prison. “If I could have your ass every night I would die a happy man.”

He made his way towards the cabinet with the wine. “Well, make yourself at home.”

"Doesn't mean you didn't have a wank right after." At least he didn't fuck the corpses, right? That's something.

"Got to let my ass rest on occasion." She laughs, "gladly. All your furniture looks like it came from a proper furniture store and not ikea."

“I don’t kill and tell.” Ah, that classic Martin humor never takes a break.

“I’ll use your mouth on days you need to rest then.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually been to an IKEA.” In hindsight. He had a rough upbringing but then went from that to a very wealthy wife. “Do you cook?”

"Then I'll be deprived if you never properly fuck my cunt." She has needs as well.

"We could go, get you some candles or something." She shrugs, "not really. I make sandwiches at the cafe and basically nothing at home."

Martin tilted his head and smiled at her, “You know I could never deprive you of anything.” He moved in to put his arms around her from behind.

“Then it sounds like I’ll be cooking. Sit down and open the wine, I’ll make us something.” Almost like a normal couple really.

She leans back against him, happily.

"You cook?" She's a bit surprised by this, though she probably shouldn't be. She leaves his arms to open the wine and watch him in the kitchen. "Aside from the murder, you really are a keeper."

“Ill have you know, I was a fantastic husband and father.” He pulled out some pots and pants, starting to boil water and chop up vegetables. “I love to entertain and host dinner parties.” Truly a lifetime ago.

"Fancy." She pours two glasses of one and brings one to him.

She leans against the counter to watch him work.

"You're fascinating. You're so much more than I expected."

"Thank you, sweetheart." He accepted the wine and clinked his glass to hers before taking a long drink, seemingly to appreciate it for a long paused moment.

"Am I? Or are the lads in England just that dull and boring?" he smiled as he began to cut vegetables and some beef.

"Most people are boring." She gives a little shrug. "You don't even need to be that clever to see it."

She's not the same sort of brilliant he is, but she's quick witted and smarter than average.

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