It was an entirely featureless case, which my dear friend refuses to let me publish, despite his clear triumph, as he believes it did not afford him a chance to demonstrate the full capacity of his powers. A frequent request, which has prevented me from detailing his more prestigious cases in the past. However, I have always observed his wishes, and these notes are intended for my own eyes, as, even with the new relationship between us, I am sure he would blush and curse my romanticism were he to read these little sketches of our lives together. This particular instance occurred a few months into our romantic relations, and I myself flush crimson at the thought of my brazen behaviour. I can only defend it with the excuse of my newly indulged pleasure, of having Holmes’ stunning body, and that coveted mind, open to me.
The case had taken us up to Norfolk, a far cry from the cramped conditions of London, which I personally relished. I have no doubt that Holmes did not notice the difference, though he did mention how much he liked the look of the apple tree in the garden of the cottage we stayed in. His whisperings were all very suggestive, and I was filled with lust whenever I looked upon him. However, our exertions under, and if I am honest, on, that particular shrub are not the focus of this tale, it was an incident that I shall no longer delay from recalling.
We were on the trail of our man, and had hired some fine mounts for the chase, as Holmes believed it would be a fast paced one. So, we set off at a spanking canter, across hill and dale, with I following dutifully behind Holmes’ flaring coattails. I had no idea of our destination, but Holmes had assured me it would not be long before we arrived at the spot where we would await our criminal’s intended escape.
I know not, whether it was the thrill of adventure, or the memory of the previous night’s activity, but I was suddenly aware of how very ravishing Holmes looked from this position. His form was half raised out of the saddle, as jockeys are want to do when riding at a fast pace. Which provided me with the alluring sight of his backside, only half hidden by the flaps of his coat. His coat itself fitted him perfectly, and highlighted his lean, masculine form nicely. Though I confess the seat of his trousers, or what they so modestly concealed, held my attention rather more than the latter. With such thoughts dancing in my brain, I had not heard Holmes’ shout, and was caught off guard when his concerned face turned to meet my guilty eyes. His expression soon lightened, and he appeared much amused by my actions.
‘Ah Watson, I am afraid I have interrupted your intent study of my person. Shall I leave you in peace to enjoy my, apparently, most pleasing rear?’
I loved to see this more jovial side of Holmes, and I was privileged to bare witness to his playful nature.
‘Really Holmes!’ said I, much embarrassed.
‘No need to be bashful Watson, I am always happy to provide for your, more impure thoughts…’ Holmes said beaming.
‘Holmes, can I be blamed for admiring what is quite literally in front of my face?’ I said, trying to regain some stature in the conversation.
‘Not at all my dear, in fact, I am finding it rather hard to concentrate knowing that you are in a similar position… Would you be good enough to ride beside me?’
I pushed my horse on willingly, and smiled at Holmes as I noticed that he was indeed, finding it ‘hard to concentrate.’
‘Dear me Watson, you have forever debased the art of horsemanship with your lustful wanderings,’ Holmes informed me, with a straight face, held in place only with the utmost difficulty.
‘Indeed, and I also intend to debase the art of forestry before the day is through…’ answered I, with an equally straight face.
‘Forestry?’ Holmes enquired with a quirked brow.
‘Oh yes. Why, I can think of a dozen different ways to further appreciate the beauty of these fine woods already.’
That did it. Holmes’ wonderfully vivid imagination was cartwheeling through every possible encounter we could share in these woods. A distinct shiver ran down Holmes’ spine, which sent a similar sensation to my arousal.
‘Alright Watson, I concede to you, this round of verbal trickery. It is lucky for you that we have a deadline, and I cannot afford the time to halt your so, influential tongue. Though I pity what you shall be subject to on our return journey.’ Said he.
‘I look forward to it…’ I whispered.
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