A/N: EXTREME NAUGHTINESS.

Other than that I don't really know what to say, not much plot really!

Enjoy!

"Molly?" Sherlock was still inspecting whatever was beneath his microscope as he drew his pathologist's attention.

"Yes Sherlock?" She glanced up from her notes, working out the best way to conceal that Mr Smitheson's toes were no longer attached to his feet.

"What's your favourite type of porn?" His eyes never left the viewfinder and so he didn't see Molly's mortified shade of red, the evident relief that they were alone in the lab and the slight curiosity of the thought process behind Sherlock's question. He only looked up when she remained silent. "Well Molly, it's a simple enough question?" He raised one eyebrow, not comprehending her reluctance.

"Um Sherlock…" Molly started and then froze up. "Coffee?" She squeaked and fled for the door, leaving a confused Sherlock in the lab, microscope forgotten, albeit temporarily.

Nothing was said the next day, Sherlock didn't even comment on her scarlet expression, they merely worked silently within the lab; well silently doesn't cover it, Sherlock murmurs to himself throughout the entire time he's there but Molly has long since learned to ignore him when he's deducing and going to his mind palace.

The episode passed without another comment and a week later Molly had finally managed to wrestle her countenance every time she saw him and not blush like a fourteen year old in a sex ed lesson. So it was a massive surprise to find Sherlock at her door in the evening of her day off.

"Sherlock, what are you doing here?" She was silently grateful that she hadn't yet changed into her not so glamourous pyjamas and was still in her tank top and shorts that she lounged around the house in. "What's in the bag?" She quizzed as he stepped past her.

"We agreed didn't we, 8pm?" At her baffled look Sherlock frowned as if recalling something. "Did I tell you I was coming round?"

"Did you have an internal conversation again?" Molly asked drily as she shut the door and followed the annoyance back to the lounge.

"I thought I asked you but never mind I'm here now!" He smiled broadly and Molly was wary again; Sherlock smiling meant normally one of a few things, he'd been shooting up again, there was a dead body and he needed her presence at the morgue or… no those were usually it. So imagine her surprise when he disappeared into her bedroom.

"Sherlock?" She called timidly, dreading the answer.

"I'm not giving you a massage on the sofa?" His voice floated through the open door. A massage? What? It took Molly just a moment and the pieces fell into place in her head. What porn had she been watching recently; massage porn. In particular, she'd been replaying one video where it was almost nothing but a sensual massage, with the woman being brought to orgasm twice by the end of the video. She went scarlet again and realised he must have been rummaging through her laptop again. Torn between angry and aroused, some brave (and horny) part of her made her feet pad through to the bedroom where Sherlock in his oh so sexy purple shirt, with the sleeves rolled up was standing by her bed. There was an influx of candles dotted around the room and he'd spread a plain black towel across the centre of her sheets and Molly felt her lust spike.

"You hacked my laptop." She accused softly, not willing to spoil the moment.

"You left it in the lab." He retorted.

"It was in my locker Sherlock." She hummed and dithered at the doorway.

"Strip Molly, massages do not work well with clothes on." His voice was low and Molly searched his face quickly before making her split second decision; even if this was a one off thing she would forever treasure the memory of Sherlock Holmes massaging her and she would probably hate herself forever wondering 'what if' if she said no now.

Swallowing hard she lifted her tank top from her body, also thankful she had opted for a bra, though would she have to remove that? Her feet, of their own accord had walked her to the edge of the bed and she was shimmying her shorts down, and her knickers. She had never felt so bold. She even unclipped her own bra, despite the internal worry of being naked in front of Sherlock but he stared with almost fascination as she rested on her tummy leaving her back and butt bared to his hands.

Very few words were spoken as Sherlock crouched at the edge of the king size bed. With dry hands he swept her hair to the side and very gently ran his fingers along the length of her body, from shoulders to her feet, each hand trailing down a leg before his thumbs circled back up.

She felt strangely bereft as his hands briefly left her body but then she smelt the sharp tang of cherry and felt a cold drizzle across her back which she slightly flinched at. A low apology came from his lips but his fingers soon warmed up the cold oil and she felt herself almost purr as his slender digits slowly worked at the tension in her shoulders. All fears and worries temporarily faded from her mind as she zoned into the touch across her bared back. Soft strokes of his fingers that worked at knots in her muscles, she would have fallen asleep if it wasn't for the gentlest of touches brushing across her thighs, skating across her buttocks.

Her mind was at a cross between arousal and sleepiness as she realised his violinist fingers had other pleasurable uses. His thumbs worked down either side of her spine, eliciting a shiver that prickled her skin with goosebumps. Sherlock's touch worked up her over her shoulder blades and drifted across her neck briefly, the oil now warmed up was making her incredibly relaxed.

She was vaguely aware of Sherlock shifting on the bed and he then worked the muscles of her arms, fingers stroking down her skin all the way to the fingertips and for one brief moment Molly thought he was going to interlock his fingers with hers but his touch swept back up to her shoulders and he shifted once more to work the other arm in a similar pattern.

He moved again and Molly realised he was now working on her legs, a thrum of pleasure beat between her legs but she held herself still through the torture – who knew if Sherlock was actually just going to give her a massage or if he would finish her the way the video had?

She considered pondering this or simply enjoying what was being offered to her and elected to turn off her brain from worrying at the current moment, she melted once more under Sherlock's delectable touch, his fingers kneading the taut muscles of her thighs and gliding down to her calves, he even massaged her feet for a few minutes before he switched sides and started the process all over again.

His heated touch was perilously close to the part of her body that was now aching for him but Molly didn't want to break the spell and ask him to touch her more, he skipped that vital part of her once more and used the palms of his hands to manipulate the soft flesh of her butt, sending bolts of pleasure through her neglected core. He then knelt above her once more and traced his fingers from her shoulders, across her shoulder blades to her hips and trailed the backs of his fingers on the way back up to her neck which he briefly stroked again.

Close to begging, she was relieved as she felt Sherlock part her legs and he knelt between them. Molly hadn't realised she had been holding her breath until one slender digit ran across her sex. Letting out a shaky breath that Sherlock was sure to note, she bit back a moan as is gentle touch became teasing. He traced small circles across her clit whilst his middle finger dipped sporadically into her sex.

Molly couldn't hold back the next moan as his barely there touch intensified, both of his thumbs worked either side of her labia before gliding across her wet entrance. Then his hands moved away, sliding back up her body the dig slightly either side of her spine on the way back down, all the way to her tailbone, fingers trailing across the crease of her butt back towards her sex. Molly whined in frustration as he kept up the torturous pace; she could almost sense the determination in him for a slow orgasm. His digits kept tracing the edges of her sex, massaging briefly before only entering shallowly, pulling back out before she barely had a chance to register the change.

After what felt like ages bearing up with the torture, Molly moaned his name and she just noted he tensed slightly.

"Sherlock please." She whimpered again and was rewarded as he slipped a finger inside her, the other hand working her clit. Now he'd started it seemed Sherlock hadn't wanted to stop, it might have had to do with the fact his name was currently a litany dropping from her lips as he worked her closer and closer to the edge.

Molly's body was sky-rocketing through pleasure. Her relaxed muscles were cording once more as he strummed her body, bringing her climax evermore closer.

"More." She begged and felt a second finger slip inside her. "Sherlock." A gasp that made him twist his thumb against her clit and without warning she shattered around his touch. He worked her through her orgasm, his touch slowing considerably and she whined once more, hips flicking away as he kept at her over-sensitive flesh.

She didn't want to roll over, she didn't want to know why he'd done it; the dream part was at the end, she'd have to deal with the questions now. Sherlock was still sat between her legs as she risked a glance over her shoulder and sweet Jesus if she didn't have a mini orgasm at the look in his eyes. The smouldering stare was enough to make her wet again and she bit her lip to stop the pleas for him to fuck her to slipping out.

"Turn over." His voice was husky and Molly managed to hide her surprise at his request. She had been expecting him to leave about now. In the heat of the moment she forgot how naked she was until he was staring at her body like a feast for a starved man. "I want to taste you."

"I want you to fuck me." She replied, surprised at her own words and revelling the shock on his face.

"That can be done. When you've recovered." Sherlock smiled slightly and Molly looked somewhat confused. "Did I do something wrong? I mean I believe I followed convention on the best way to start a relationship with you didn't I?" He looked almost bemused until Molly smiled.

"This is the way you ask me out Sherlock?" She sat up, he knees either side of his body. He nodded and her smile widened. "I'm going to have high expectations in this relationship then, Sherlock." She leant forwards and kissed him hard on the lips.

"I plan to live up to them." He muttered through kisses until he gasped as her hands brushed across his crotch.

"Let's do something about this first." She whispered. "In the shower I think." She grinned and tugged him from the bed towards her bathroom.