Chapter Eight.

'A Study in Scarlett.'

It was only natural that after six months of trying to adjust to the modern world of 2023, Scarlett Holmes was feeling decidedly melancholy. Her comfortable life and career as the country's best-known and most successful consulting private detective had gone, gone, in the swirling mists of the Reichenbach Falls of 1891, as she plummeted to her presumed death, only to mysteriously emerge in the future.

"Bored, bored, bored."

Emma Watson turned her head momentarily to her side, frowned, and then continued her conversation with her personal nurse. The medical doctor had graciously taken the confused and isolated Holmes into her home and had even shared in some of her latest and most unique adventures. They were attending another corporate event, the subject of which had eluded the uninterested Holmes but was something Emma had agreed to appear at as a member of the medical profession.

"What was that, Holmes?"

Holmes had never been one for parties, nor had she sought new acquaintances, enjoying her close relationship with her trusted companion and lover, Emma Watson, the young Emma's great-grandmother. Granted, the bodacious and attractive blonde did have an excessive desire for sex with either men or women. Sometimes with both.

Scarlett hated change. The old faces had gone. Familiar locales had changed or even vanished. Only to be replaced by eyesores like skyscraper buildings, motorways, and mighty aircraft choking the very skies. She tried to avoid large gatherings and only sought company if it involved solving a crime or having sex. Casual sex mind, no ties or romance. It was a pity that Emma was going steady with her current boyfriend, as she was the spitting image of her ancestor.

"What was that, Holmes?" repeated a distracted Emma.

The slim, light brunette looked her dazzling best in her white Ralph Lauren halter dress with the scooped-out back and sexy slit up her left thigh that was in full view when she walked. Her pert buttocks were clearly visible beneath the fine fabric, leaving no doubt in anybody's mind that the delectable young filly had chosen to forego wearing underwear. Her hair was up in a French twist that perfectly displayed her elegant neck and kissable shoulders—something Scarlett dreamed of nuzzling if only she had half the chance.

"I want to leave, Emma," she said as she curled her lip at the indifferent glass of bubbly in her hand.

Emma now gave the pouting female her full attention. She had helped the reluctant guest get ready, dressing her and doing her hair. The curvy blonde bombshell looked unbelievable in a sleeveless plum gown that fell to the floor. Her large bosom strained under the tight-fitting dress, and her nipples were just about observable. Her fair locks had a fresh, tousled look that suited the occasion.

"Look. Just relax. You really do need to get out more. No sense moping at home and wishing for the past."

Emma took a sip of champagne and looked around the crowded room. The party was in full swing, and various groups of guests mingled and chatted as waitresses offered drinks and canapes. More than one accent could be heard amid the pitch of laughter and general frivolity.

"I like moping. My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me work. Give me problems. I crave puzzles, encryptions, and unexplainable mysteries. Give me a real dilly of a pickle; I cannot bear this atmosphere. I want a case to be solved to end this tedious existence. Either that or you and I can just jump into bed."

Scarlett gripped Emma by the elbow and didn't let go.

"Do behave! Look, there is the organizer of the party. Let's say hello."

"No. I don't want to," Scarlett huffed, gluing her shoes to the floor.

"You silly woman. Come ON."

Emma steered the reluctant Scarlett in the direction of Sir Peter Phist, an Anglo-German diamond dealer of high-quality stones and rough-cut ones as well. The Embassy of Germany is located in Belgravia, in the heart of London, and occupies three terraced houses in Belgravia Square. Phist resided in one of the houses, preferring the dependable German security of the Embassy to protect his collection of certified gemstones.

"Who is he with?" wondered Holmes at the welcome sight of a tall, blue-eyed blonde with a curvaceous figure and outstanding 36DD boobs.

She felt her heart race as she grew nearer to the host and his fabulous guest, perched at a small table.

"No idea. Sir Phist. So nice to see you."

"Emma! How kind of you to attend! It makes all the difference to our evening."

"Allow me to introduce Scarlett Holmes. She's been dying to meet you. Say hello to the nice man," whispered Emma to Holmes, whose eyes were fixed on the buxom, honey-hued blonde.

Scarlett shook hands with the short, somewhat corpulent man with a receding hairline, beady eyes, and pendulous lip.

"And this is Miss Stephanie Davidson, a casual acquaintance."

Scarlett noticed how the man's eyes were strictly at bust level as he introduced the smiling woman and leered at her ample bosom.

"Phist. Yes, of course. One of the Hannover Phists, no doubt. (Say it fast, author) The renowned but dubious diamond brokers and traders from Germany. I had some bad fortune meeting with one Jerken Phist, an unscrupulous Prussian diamond smuggler and general sex sadist, back in 1887. I enjoyed seeing him behind bars. Presumably one of your ancestors."

'What? Surely you jest."

"Phist by name, fist by nature, I perceive."

"Holmes! Not here!" exclaimed an embarrassed Emma.

Undeterred, Scarlett continued.

"Yes. It's quite clear that you overdo the solo sex act. Do you find yourself in the men's room at work a lot? I observe that you have an unusual amount of skin chaffing on your right palm. A sure sign of excessive masturbation. How many times a day do you want?"

Scarlett pointed to the gobsmacked Phist's trousers.

"I should try to tone it down if I were you. It's most uncivilized to appear at such functions with the telltale signs of semen splotches on your pants. This is a clear indication that you recently bashed one out in the last half hour. Titman, are you not?"

Scarlett indicated Stephanie's eye-popping plunging neckline and generous breasts and then spread her hands.

"This is an outrage! Never have I been so insulted!"

As Phist turned on his heels, an outraged Emma fumed at how briskly her companion had reduced the German organizer to a poor excuse of a man.

"Bloody hell! Was that necessary? You have a total lack of tact and diplomacy. I truly despair."

"I am what I am. I make no apologies."

Emma chased after the host as Stephanie looked at Scarlett with acute interest.

"And exactly what do you make of me?" she asked with an accent.

The American had sat down with a glass of bubbly in her hand. Her right leg was crossed over her left, and a fair amount of thigh was unveiled beneath the hem of her short dress as a result. The muted whisper of silk upon silk was highly suggestive of the always-horny detective. With her ears still burning, Scarlett chose to tone down her deductive prowess.

"Charming, most charming. Miss Davidson."

What she thought was that the woman was a classic femme fatale. A woman so breathtakingly beautiful as to appear almost taboo and off-limits to most men. She oozed sensuality and sophistication and was not likely to entertain fools. In fact, back in more familiar Victorian times, Holmes would have labelled her a wicked woman. Scarlett focused on the woman's mouth and imagined their wet lips smacking together.

"Please. My friends call me Stormy."

"American?"

"Sure. Baton Rouge. Ever been?"

"No."

Scarlett blinked hard as she stared at the other's ruby lips, which parted seductively as she smiled.

"Come on. I need a smoke."

Holmes nodded, and the pair of golden-haired beauties made their way to the rear of the building and exited into the cool night air. As they stood under an archway, Stephanie took out a black cigarette holder but then lowered it as she curled her lip at the offered Karo filter-less brand.

"You smoke that German shit?"

Stormy handed her own packet of Virginia Slims Lights to Scarlett, who took one, letting her fingers brush against the Americans as she did so.

"Light me," said Stephanie, her voice low and sexy, as she set one smoke into her holder.

Scarlett took her lighter from her purse and held it to the end of the holder as both women held direct eye contact.

"That was quite amusing the way you humiliated Phist, the Kraut bastard. He's a total bore and only ever wants to fuck my tits. You and skinny a couple?"

"Skinny? Oh, you mean Emma? No, we just slept together. Why? Do you think we're gay?"

'Well. I know you are." Stephanie pointed her holder at Holmes. "You've practically been mentally undressing me from the moment you set eyes on me."

"Well, considering that your evening gown is barely there, it leaves little to the imagination."

"Touché."

As they smoked, they felt the night air become chillier, and they drew closer and closer in a natural move to stay warm.

"Come here."

Scarlett didn't need to ask twice, so she glided across the floor and welcomed two light hands squeezing and fondling her tits. Their faces came close, and Scarlett inhaled the heady perfume that assailed her nostrils. Their lips made light contact, and then both pursed and kissed for a full minute. Scarlett felt her body heat rise as they sought out each other's tongues with lustful urgency. A little pool of creamy wetness formed in her cunt as she realized the gorgeous American wanted her as much as she did.

"MMM, no pants. I had a good feeling about you when I first saw you, and it just got a whole lot better."

Scarlett emitted a soft cry of delight as a warm hand cupped her mound through the lustrous dress material and squeezed. Fantastic sensations shot through her, and she humped back into the firm palm of her pussycat. She slipped her tongue into Stephanie's mouth as their kissing grew fiercer. Then they broke, and the moment was gone.

"Easy kitten. You wanna make out here?"

"You want to make out?'"

"Sure, honey. Make hubba hubba. You know, bump uglies. Eat the beaver and form the two-backed beast."

I really must make a study of modern euphemisms for sex, thought Holmes as she finally got the drift.

"Is your place near? I have some stuff to do, and I'll head over when I'm done."

"Fine. I'll leave now."

Scarlett took out her Nokia and gave the blonde the address of Emma's riverside flat in Canary Wharf. The pair left each other, and Holmes hailed a black taxi and made her way home in a buzz of sexual excitement.

X

Once home, Scarlett stripped off her evening dress and stood naked in her silver high heels. Although she was only five-three in bare feet, she was proud of her voluptuous breasts that sat firm and rounded on her chest. Her upper body tapered to a fairly trim waist, which flared out to femininely wide hips and luscious buttocks. Her lips had perfect symmetry, the upper being of the same proportion as her lower, giving her a perma-pout, which was the envy of most women she met. Her pussy mound had been trimmed back in the modern way, but anyway, her fine and light pubes were pretty much invisible.

"Not bad for a 160-year-old," she quipped at the irony of her unexplainable time travel trip.

She made sure her room looked presentable and plumped up the half-dozen or so fluffy pillows. She waited a full hour and then sat up as the intercom buzzed, signalling the arrival of her new lover. Slipping her shoes off, she padded naked to the door phone mounted on the wall, and pressed the button to open the door to the complex of twenty-five floors below. She returned to her bed and laid on her back with acute anticipation.

"Hello?"

"Come on in, and close the door behind you."

Moments later, the already open bedroom door widened, and Scarlett rubbed her thighs together as her pussycat gave her an expectant spasm.

"Naughty. You started without me."

Stephanie's magnetic sexuality held Holmes in a trance as the stacked blonde entered and then turned her back her way. She painstakingly removed her skin-hugging dress and let it shimmie down to her four-inch heels. Once naked, Holmes checked out the smooth skin of her back and her alluring bottom that lifted and separated to show that enviable cleft in between that drew the eye to her sweet slit.

The honey blonde spun on her heels to let Scarlett get a good eyeful of her opulent breasts with the large areolas and protruding nipples. Holmes did not need any of her excellent deductive powers to note the gleam of moisture on Stormy's succulent mons. Scarlett felt her pussycat tingle like mad as she practically salivated over the drop-dead gorgeous American.

"Hit the lights," suggested Scarlett, in the mood for a leisurely tryst.

Stormy flicked the switch, and the only illumination in the room came from the lights of the nearby buildings, which gave an odd on-again, off-again effect through the window. The tall blonde sashayed her way to the bed and settled on her back. Her fair hair fell back to her shoulders, and her pendulous boobs rose and fell as she breathed. Her legs parted, and as Scarlett moved closer, she leered at the moist outer labia that parted slightly to hint at the desirable pink inner lips.

"Touch me."

Scarlett inhaled deeply and reached out to run her fingertips over the two jutting peaks that were the woman's erect nipples and down the soft and slightly round belly in the shadow of her heavy tits.

"Suck 'em."

Scarlett moved up to kiss those rosy lips while her palm brushed both erect nipples from side to side. Stormy squirmed on her back as she welcomed Scarlett, transferring her pursed lips from her mouth to her oversized tit. The famed detective sucked on the left nub first, pulling it into her mouth hard, almost as if she were trying to suck it right out of the big globe of flesh. She turned to the other, and both huge mammaries were soon bathed in warm spit. Her eager pink tongue rolled around the erect nubs as drool slithered out of the corners of her mouth.

"I can tell you've done this before."

"You've seen nothing yet."

Scarlett had both boobs in her hands as she sucked on each nipple with a hint of dominance on her reddened face. Then, she ran her hands down to the trimmed muff of the impressed American, which was damp with tantalizing droplets of her pussy juice.

"YEAH! Fuck my cunt!"

Scarlett licked two fingers and thrust up Stormy's sopping quim; her thumb found her tiny clitoral area at the same time. Fisted knuckles banged up and down on the quivering American babe as her hand sped up her pussycat fanning.

"Faster, you're making me cream!"

Stormy's hips were clear off the bed as she made loud groans and panted heavily. Her cunt flooded Scarlett's hand and mouth with a mix of love juices and perspiration, which dampened her inner thighs and deep cleavage. Now Scarlett concentrated on her oral onslaught and used her flattened tongue to deftly circle the plump pussy lips in her face. Stormy felt two hands under her butt as she was unceremoniously pulled up into Scarlett's drooling mouth. Both lust-crazed females moaned in time as Scarlett hungrily explored Stormy's sweet folds, whose contents coated her chin and gliding tongue. Stormy shivered and moaned breathlessly as the tongue plunged right inside of her as hard as was permissible.

"Faster! Fuck!"

Sweep after a sweep of her weeping muff had reduced the sweat-dappled honey blonde to a trembling mess, whose legs kicked out uncontrollably and whose tits heaved up and down. Teeth nibbled on her engorged mound as three, then incredibly four fingers furiously pumped until her blessed release came with moan after moan after moan. Stormy wearily lifted her head and came as she looked down at her own body to see the fair bobbing head buried in her heated snatch.

"Your turn, lover. And I bet I can make you cough quicker."

Stormy scooted up as Scarlett happily laid on her back and watched the busty blonde move her head from side to side to lightly paint the insides of her soft thighs, taking great pains to avoid that wet treasure that begged to be licked and probed. Scarlett screwed her eyes up and licked her moist lips as Stormy sent her crazy with lust as she kept stopping short of her aching mound.

"You're one for teasing."

"You want to race to the finish line already?"

Stormy leaped up and smothered Scarlett with her soft curves. They used every part of their bodies to rub each other. Tit on tit, limb on a limb, belly against belly, and bush to bush. As Stormy shunted up, Scarlett shifted down, ensuring their cunt lips were glued together from their shared love juices and spent saliva. Their moans of pleasure were in very grave danger of being drowned out by the lewd squelching of sopping pussies.

"OH, OH, OH!" they moaned as they planted rabid kisses on each other. Lips, tongues, and hands went everywhere at once. Faces, necks, tits, bellies, thighs, and hips.

"Wait! It's Emma, shush!"

The bedroom door opened, and a decidedly tipsy Emma Watson stumbled into the dark and kicked her heels off, sending them flying across the room.

"She thinks this is her room," whispered Scarlett to the amused Stormy.

"Bloody Scarlett Holmes, hic! Her and her bloody, 'elementary, my dear Watson.'"

Emma unzipped her dress and let it puddle around her feet, huffing and puffing as she undressed, clearly angry at her unpaying roommate.

"Hic! I swear, if I hear another 'the game is afoot' I shall scream. And those bloody, awful cigarettes she smokes. Smells like sweaty socks, hic!"

The two naked blonde bombshells huddled together under the sheet as Emma flopped into bed.

"And as for the bloody Yank, She's all tits and asses and a bottle blonde. She wouldn't know the difference between a glass of champagne and a glass of lemonade. And her dress was way too small for those big hips."

Emma sighed as she plumped up a pillow and made herself comfortable in the bed. She always slept in the raw, loving the feel of her favourite satin sheets close to her skin. But this felt different.

"Hang on. This isn't my bed."

"Correct, Emma. It's mine."

Emma jumped up and turned on the bedside lamp to see the pair of stacked and naked blondes lying next to her.

"And for your information, I'm a natural blonde. Look."

Stormy opened her legs to display her trimmed-back, fine pubes.

"You're quite a sexy little thing, aren't you?"

"What?"

A sense of uncertainty and confusion gripped Emma as four hands gripped her arms firmly and pinned them to her sides. Her lithe frame was then gently guided down, and dozens of kisses rained down on her delicate flesh. She craned her neck to see the astonishing sight of the two busty blondes ravaging her.

"Guys, oh. Guys?" she gasped as her doe-like eyes rolled back in her head.

Emma felt the delicate touch of a hand rub her left buttock, and a shock of electricity hit her loins. The American's bodacious body moulded to hers from behind, and she responded to the fingers between her legs that searched here and there. She lifted her head to see Scarlett in front of her, cupping her tits and pulling on her hard nipples. She groaned as the detective kissed her on the mouth, and Emma arched her body as the pair of women sandwiched her with their gyrating bodies.

"Oh my goodness!"

The pressure of the two against her was overwhelmingly erotic, and despite her reservations, Emma's pussycat leaked down her thighs. Her fuzzy mind reeled from the sensation of Scarlett squashed to her front and the American pushing into her backside.

Stormy pushed her tongue right up inside Emma's hot box as she lay there panting. Scarlett had her tits in her hands and was licking the sweet flesh, keeping direct eye contact with the slim sex kitten's own. Emma moaned in delight as the American buried her pointed tongue right up her dripping slit and hummed softly.

"Too...good."

Emma's face was a picture as the two ravenous and statuesque women licked and sucked on her most sensitive spots. Four roaming hands pawed at her slender frame as one busy tongue slathered around her clitoral area and hard teeth nibbled on her swollen mound.

"Fuck!"

Scarlett clamped her mouth on Emma's muff and sent shivers of delight through her. Stormy joined in, and as she licked vertically along Emma's left outer lip, Scarlett worked on the other. Their lapping tongues became a blur as they slipped and slobbered with deliberately loud noises. Working as a team, the two busty blondes licked this way and that, together and separately, in circles, sideswipes, and ardent stabs.

"I'm gonna...cum!"

Emma squirted into Scarlett's face as two hungry tongues now lashed out at her pussycat in unison. Her upper thighs, ass, and quim were saturated from the relentless flurry of tongue action down below. Her juices oozed and dribbled out between frantic tongue stabs on her buzzing slit.

"Sweet stuff," said Stormy to Scarlett, who nodded back.

The intense overlapping of flicking tongues gave Emma a most welcome second orgasm as lips kissed her, mouths sucked her, and darting tongues formed dozens of tiny bubbles on her saturated quim. Her lower body was pushed and shoved with tiny thrusts as her cum was eagerly drunk by the two manic blondes. The slapping of three naked and sweaty bodies cracked the stillness of the air in the darkened bedroom as Scarlett and Stormy pounded little Emma in a lecherous rhythm.

"Up you come."

Scarlett hoisted Emma up under her armpits and down onto her hands and knees. The detective bent over her behind and poked out her tongue to lick back and forth in a line from her upturned anus to that pale strip of flesh known as the perineum. Stormy met her as she swept up from clitoral to puckered asshole, holding Emma's pert buns in both hands. Both continued to flick and lick the slick trail that had Emma beating the sheet in ecstasy with her balled-up fists.

"Nice ass."

Emma was delirious as one slowed up, urging the other to increase the rate of her lapping, and then vice versa. Both pressed on Emma with more force, and Stormy combined with Scarlett to poke and prod the petite woman's tight starfish, which began to yield to the incessant pressure.

"Good girl."

Emma's eyes shot open as her back passage had not one but two tongues dipping in and out of her. Her cheeks were parted as wet stabs made her heart pound in her chest. With a loud crack of Stormy's palm across both nates, Emma shrieked as she was tossed over again.

"No fucking way!"

Scarlett and Stormy placed their mouths over the now puffy mound of the exhilarated actress, and both exhaled in tandem. Their blissful warm air rendered Emma speechless as her third and final climax tore through the petite woman with surprising intensity. The big toe on her left foot kicked up as an involuntary trembling overcame her electrified form.

Weak and spent, Emma laid still, her eyes half-lidded, and her slender legs splayed. Her medium-sized tits heaved as she sucked in deep breaths of air. A viscous trail of spit and cum ran down her ass crack, and her pubic region was splattered and glistening. Within a minute, she was asleep.

"Ah, bless. Let's get her to her own room."

Scarlett lifted the lightweight Emma and made her comfortable in her own bed. Stormy dressed and left, leaving the famous private detective to get some well-earned rest.

x

At two in the afternoon, both Emma and Holmes emerged from their respective rooms. Emma nursed a hangover as she made a pot of black coffee in the kitchen. She looked at Holmes and pouted as she recalled the threesome she had just endured. Scarlett looked like the cat who got the cream as she lit up a Dunhill menthol.

"You look rough. Been up too late?"

"Fuck off!"

"Now, now. There is no need for gutter language. Tell me straight that you didn't enjoy yourself."

Emma bit her lip and gulped hot coffee.

"I honestly don't remember a thing. I was drunk."

"Really. You don't remember coming three times within an hour? Curious."

"I...I did? How, but? Oh, oh, sausage!"

Scarlett buried her face in that day's edition of the Times newspaper and suppressed a giggle as Emma frowned and poked her tongue out at the deplorable, smug blonde.

"I say. Listen to this. In the late evening, at a formal party at the German Embassy yesterday, a large number of uncut and uncertified diamonds were stolen under the very noses of the official security guards. It is unclear just how much the haul is worth, but it is likely to run into hundreds of thousands of pounds. A small white card was left at the scene of the crime, which read, 'Compliments of the Domino Lady.' What time did you leave?"

"Midnight. As did all the others. I would have thought an embassy would be impregnable."

"I heartily agree. It points to an inside job, without a doubt. Wait one moment. Have you got your tablet?"

Emma poured her second cup of the day and pointed to the table. Scarlett spent a few minutes reading the London crimes of the past fortnight and then sat up straight.

"Here. On the fifteenth of the month, the Audi and BMW motor car showrooms were torched, and the entire stock of vehicles was destroyed. The resulting loss of money will run into six figures. One curious footnote was an apparent calling card left by the thief. A small card that read, 'Compliments of the Domino Lady.'"

"So?"

Scarlett unwrapped a fresh pack of cigarettes and looked up at the ceiling.

"I need to think. This will be a ten-pack problem, and I beg that you won't speak for fifty minutes."

"Make it longer. I couldn't care anymore."

Holmes sat smoking, her eyes open but unseeing. Smoke rose to the ceiling, and the only motion was when the detective tapped ash into the tray at her right side. Long minutes passed, and so Emma decided to relax and soak in a luxurious bubble bath. As she unwound in the warmth of the soapy tub, she nibbled on a couple of pieces of Ferrero Rocher chocolate.

Gosh. Did I really cum three times in an hour? Everything about her journey home after the party and later was a complete blank, thanks to one too many glasses of champagne. Am I becoming a lesbian? Surely not, she speculated. After all, her boyfriend satisfied her totally in bed. As she enjoyed her soak and reflected, she heard the bathroom door open as Scarlett burst in.

"Eureka!"

"Holmes! I'm in the bath!"

"I don't mind. I have solved the case."

As Emma hid under the suds and splashed water onto the floor tiles, Scarlett continued excitedly.

"There's a case?"

"Very much so. I'd come across this over a hundred years ago. There is a thing known as teutophobia. A person with anti-German sentiments. I believe that there is someone at large targeting things associated with Germany. First, the auto showrooms, and then the Embassy diamond raid. I am confident I know the next target."

"And what might that be?"

"I am astonished at how the sport of football has become so popular among the masses. And even more astonished at the outrageous salaries these men get for kicking a lump of leather back and forth."

"Oh, I don't know. I quite like the Spurs player, Harry Kane. Nice legs."

Scarlett waved her hand in dismissal.

"Nonsense. Anyway, Tottenham Hotspur is entertaining the German champions, Bayern Munich, in the European Championship tomorrow night in North London. I believe that our suspect is going to loot the German players for their personal effects. Expensive watches, diamond and gold rings, and the like. Quite a pretty haul, I calculate. You have connections. Can you get us two tickets for the game?"

"Shouldn't be a problem."

"Excellent! How exciting. The game is..."

"Afoot. Yeah, yeah, yeah."

To be continued...