The things born of late night conversations. you can half blame hums-happily for this:
Heels and Handcuffs – A little roleplay is good for the soul. Especially if it involves Mycroft Holmes in a leather skirt
teaser below the cut
Greg sauntered into the pub, heart already beating fast. When Mycroft had suggested this evening he’d been a bit dubious.
Those thoughts went right out the window when he saw the familiar-faced figure leaning on the bar.
Red hair fell around shoulders covered in a black leather jacket, a dark bustier peeking out from underneath. A short black leather skirt covered fishnet stockings that vanished into a pair of high heeled boots.
Greg’s mouth went dry, but he remembered his role. He walked over and gave a smile. There was some perfume Greg didn’t recognize but went straight to his cock. “Evening.”
Mycroft looked up. He’d been playing bored, but Greg saw the glint of hunger in his eyes. “Evenin’”