bakerstreet | them sexts

I can't stop thinking about you. Even if I could, I wouldn't want to.

You really are the sweetest thing, but we can't have an enforcer distracted on duty, can we? It could be dangerous.
We'll have to find some cunning method of satisfying your wayward thoughts so you might regain your focus. I might put forward a few suggestions if you were to visit me tonight... and I can whisper all my thoughts of you right in your ear, darling.

There's no need for worry. I'm not doing anything that's cause for alarm. They've had me on desk duty for a week. The Sheriff says I need to put in the hours at the desk before I earn time in the field, despite the fact that I've been working quite hard on a series of robberies in my free time and I believe I've made rather a significant breakthrough.

There's very little chance that my being distracted while sitting behind a desk will cause any sort of danger.

Which I am.

Quite distracted.

I'd like to visit you tonight.

It's reassuring to have at least one enforcer who's serious about their job. I'm sorry about the desk duty, I know you're eager to put your skills to use on the field. Piltover would certainly benefit.
Should you ever find yourself working late behind that terrible desk, I might be inclined to visit you... so I can distract you in person.

Tonight, then. Will you have eaten, or shall we dine together?

It would be nice to dine together, don't you think?

I so often dine alone or with company I don't care for; it'll be a pleasure to dine wiht someone I like for a change.
I'll also try not to hoist you up onto the table so I can bury my head between those beautiful, powerful legs of yours until I clear away the plates.

I still have hours left of my shift!

[How is she meant to sit quietly at a desk for several more hours with Mel putting such thoughts in her head?]

Impatient, are we?
I could come by with some food if you're so eager, and eat at your desk.
Or I could come by with no food, and eat under your desk.

My desk is in a public area. I'd need to say I was taking a break so that we could go somewhere more discreet.

Yes, Councilor Medarda will be needing your urgent assistance in a private location.

I'll expect your arrival shortly, then.

To tide you over.

[ The picture Mel sends frames her from the curve of her smiling lips to sculpt of her stomach, with a hint of pubic hair just visible. Her breasts glisten with beads of moisture from a fresh shower, her dark nipples stiff with anticipation. ]

[Caitlyn's first instinct is to hide the evidence that Mel just sent her a very explicit picture, because surely everyone must be staring at her and must be able to intuit that she's sleeping with Councilor Medarda, and that Councilor Medarda just sent Caitlyn a nude photograph of herself.

But Caitlyn can't hide anything, transfixed as she is by the image. So she sits behind her desk as primly as she can manage, ankles crossed, back ramrod straight, clutching the edge of the desk with white knuckles as she waits for Mel to arrive. She's trying her absolute hardest to look nonchalant, but even she can tell she's not quite succeeding.

Even if Mel were to arrive in under a minute, it won't be soon enough. The picture may have been meant to tide her over, but staring at it is only making her more desperate.]

[ Discretion is more important to Mel Medarda than most. She's a member of the Council, after all, and to maintain that position she most uphold her reputation and protect her secrets. She learned her trade in Noxus, where politics was little different from warfare and every move had to be considered as if your opponent had a knife to your throat. Here in Piltover, things are less final and yet it would no doubt reflect negatively if she were to be found canoodling with an enforcer, especially the daughter of a fellow councilor, and at Caitlyn's work as well. It might even constitute something of a scandal.

Which makes all this even more exciting.

On the way in, Mel briefly speaks with the Sheriff. He assumes that she's there to see him, which she isn't. She doesn't bother conjuring a complex excuse -- he's hardly worth even that meagre mental energy -- and vaguely waves him off with a hint that it's something to do with Caitlyn's mother. He asks no follow-up questions not only because she's a councilor, but because she's Mel Medarda. She belongs everywhere.

Mel can't help but smile when Caitlyn comes into sight; she's sitting behind her desk like the most well-behaved schoolgirl in class awaiting the teacher's attention. She probably has every button on her uniform polished to perfection even after a full day. When she comes to stand in front of the desk, Mel smiles in that sly, secret way reserved for the very few who share said secrets. ] Good evening, Officer Kiramman. Your mother was kind enough to offer your help on a little project of mine, if you're both amenable and not too busy.

[Mel sweeps into the room like she owns the place. And she might as well - Mel Medarda is one of the most powerful people in Piltover, and there's nowhere she can't go, no one who won't hurry to do her will. It should be freedom, but to Caitlyn it feels like captivity. Because the woman who saunters in is breathtaking, gleaming and graceful and heart-achingly lovely, and Caitlyn can't kiss her.

If it were only her own reputation at risk, she wouldn't care. People already gossip about the Councilor's daughter working as a lowly enforcer. But it's Mel's reputation, too, and she knows how important reputation is for a Councilor.

Not for the first time, resentment stirs for what she sees as the chains of her station.

She shoots to her feet, adjusting the already-pristine lines of her uniform and nodding stiffly. She's glad Mel has thought of a lie, because put on the spot like this, her usually quick mind tripping over excitement and affection and pent-up desire in its struggle to catch up with what's happening, she couldn't possibly come up with one.]

Y-yes. [It's a little too loud, and a little too awkward.] Of course, Councilor Medarda. We can use the briefing room. For your project. If you'll follow me?

[She starts to lead Mel down a corridor, towards a smaller room with blinds that they can draw for privacy.]

Of course, Officer Kiramman. After you.

[ Mel keeps her slight smile from growing broad and bright with amusement and open flirtation, as is the natural instinct when Caitlyn is being so... so bloody cute. The way the enforcer fires up from behind her desk and stutters out a hasty follow-up to the lie isn't just adorable by itself, but tugs on something inside Mel: something deep-rooted and warm with feeling, something to be considered another time. For now, there's another warmth she wishes to tend to.

The trip to the briefing room is a short one, and at this time of the evening Mel doesn't see a single other enforcer moving through the hallways they navigate together. As they walk, Mel's gaze falls to the subtle sway of Caitlyn's hips and she tongues the inside of her cheek as the heat simmering low within her begins to uncoil with anticipation, and spread outward.

Two sounds precede Mel's mouth upon Caitlyn's; the first is the metallic ding of a lock sliding into place behind them. The next is the paperly collapse of blinds as they are hastily shuttered, the noise of which hasn't even fully settled into silence before Mel's hands gently spin Caitlyn by the waist until those wide eyes are locked to hers. Mel's lips crash against Caitlyn's with rough urgency, her hands gliding downward to trace the curve of the younger woman's hips. ]

This is wh--

[Caitlyn starts speaking as though she's actually giving Mel a tour. Her work means so much to her, and she likes the idea of showing the place to Mel, telling her all about the cases she's been working on, maybe getting Mel's thoughts on a few. Mel's so clever, she'd probably have some interesting insi--

And then she's being spun around, and all thoughts of work fly out of her head as Mel's lips collide with hers, leaving behind only the aching need that's been simmering under her skin all day long. For a moment, her eyes go wide, surprised by the suddenness of it. But only for a moment. Eyes squeezing shut, hands reaching up to tenderly cradle Mel's face, Caitlyn returns the kiss.]

I missed you. [It's barely louder than a breath, whispered against Mel's lips. All day she's been longing for Mel's smile, to hear her laugh, to see the gleam in her eyes, to feel Mel's hands on her bare skin, to taste Mel again... And now, finally, Mel is here. In her arms. And her stomach is tight with nerves and excitement and something warm is unfurling deep in her chest and her whole body is alight with desire.

She backs up, gently pulling Mel along with her, until she feels the edge of a table bump against the back of her thighs. It's Caitlyn's turn to spin Mel, now, albeit slowly and more deliberately than Mel spun her, trying to get Mel against the table.]

I haven't been able to think of anything but you. [There's nothing sultry or seductive about the confession, nor is there any hint of complaining. There's nothing but matter-of-fact sincerity to be found in Caitlyn's voice or face as the words tumble out of her.] All day. I haven't been able to concentrate for thoughts of you.

[ Mel tends to think of her lovers -- and sex in general, if she's honest -- in largely transactional terms: shared fun without strings one might use to bind the other. That hasn't always been the case, but for Mel it's been the safest option. Besides, keeping things casual doesn't prevent her from having passionate, physically fulfilling relationships.

And yet, she can't quite bring herself to think of this burgeoning... thing with Caitlyn in the same terms. She might try, but then Caitlyn brings her hands (elegant, powerful hands) up to caress her face with such tenderness that something inside Mel leaps with almost adolescent excitement. She likes being touched this way, and likes being touched this way by Caitlyn. Any instinctive feeling to put up a wall between them is outweighed by the clearer, sharper instinct that Caitlyn can be trusted. After all, those hands of hers -- those fingers, really -- can put a bullet anywhere... but they're being used to touch Mel in ways that make her melt.

To say nothing of the way Caitlyn talks to her, with fearlessly open affection. Mel tends to second-guess whatever comes out of another person's mouth at the best of times, but she believes Caitlyn means every word. That sincerity -- and courage -- is catching. ] I missed you too, darling. Can't you tell? [ A devious little smile and Mel kisses Caitlyn again, a soft moan tumbling into the other woman's mouth as she's guided against the table. ] Mm. [ Mel's fingers glide through silk-soft blue-black hair as she kisses Caitlyn again, nipping oh-so-lightly at her bottom lip before caressing that same spot with her thumb once the kiss breaks. Mel hops up onto the edge of the table, legs swinging and then spreading. ] Do you think you can find something to concentrate on now, dear?

[Caitlyn squeaks in surprise at the unexpected pinch on her bottom lip followed by the soft pressure of Mel's thumb, instinctively leaning into the touch.]

Y-yes. [She answers before Mel has even finished asking, eyes wide and eager, hand dipping down to hold Mel's thigh - to give her support, to feel her skin - as Caitlyn slots herself between Mel's legs.] Yes.

[The layer of leather between her palms and Mel is a sort of cruel torture. She's got to get rid of her gloves. With short, fastidious little motions, she starts yanking each finger of the glove down, loosening each one by one, before pulling the whole glove off, setting it aside on a nearby chair, and then repeating the process with the other glove, frowning all the while. They're not especially nice gloves, made of sturdy, worn leather, but she deposits them with far more care than the extravagant, expensive gown she discarded on Mel's floor the last time they did this.

She can't decide whether she wants to keep kissing Mel or whether she wants to fall to her knees in front of this incredible woman and put her mouth to a different use. There is rather an urgent heat low in her gut and a tightness in her muscles begging for relief. But equally, she's yearning for... Mel. Not merely Mel's oh-so-talented fingers and tongue, nor her perfectly sculpted body, but the woman herself, clever and fascinating and so surprisingly gentle. And how best to satiate both of those needs?

By the time it occurs to her that, perhaps, her desires aren't a logic puzzle to deduce her way out of, she's already leaning in for another tender kiss.]

I'm so glad you came.

[She whispers it just before their lips meet, as her hand dips beneath the front of Mel's skirt and begins stroking up her inner thigh.]

[ With a tilt of her head, Mel watches Caitlyn strip off her gloves with a combination of mild amusement and slow-bubbling anticipation. She likes watching Caitlyn, likes tracing every little movement with her eyes. She is, after all, more than a little mesmerising with that potent combination of adorable enthusiasm, sharp-hewn beauty and intense sense of duty. Looking is one thing, however, and touching is very much another.

It's Caitlyn's touch -- specifically the dip of her hand and the feeling of figners gliding along Mel's inner thigh -- that prompts a warm moan from the older woman. ] Me too, darling...

[ The words come out in a quick, barely-there whisper as Caitlyn's mouth inclines toward her own, and then they're kissing again, lips pressed together warmly. The kiss is slow and leisurely as it deepens, and an unexpected little moan slips out of Mel as her tongue glides into Caitlyn's mouth. Her arms slip around Caitlyn easily, guiding her closer still as one hand travels down the small of her back and the other begins to work blindly but competently at her belt. ]

[Caitlyn is so absorbed in kissing Mel that she doesn't notice the clasp of her belt being undone until it falls away. She whimpers into Mel's mouth. Is Mel planning to fully strip her? Here in the briefing room? What if someone overhears something? What if-- What if someone breaks down the door? But the anxious little thrill she feels is chased out of her head almost immediately by Mel's tongue sweeping across her lips and into her mouth.

Finally, Caitlyn breaks the kiss and rests her head in the crook of Mel's shoulder, taking a moment to catch her breath. But her impatience gets the better of her, and, in one very precise movement, she drops to her knees and flips up the front panel of Mel's skirt so that she can comfortably ensconce herself underneath. From there, it's only the matter of a moment to push Mel's underwear to the side and press her lips directly to Mel's clit.]

[ Surprise crosses Mel's expression, if only briefly, when Caitlyn's head falls to her shoulder once their kiss breaks. There's something about that small moment of rest which feels intimate, tender... trusting, even. Mel is somewhat awkwardly raising her hands to pull Caitlyn even closer and extend the moment when suddenly the younger woman is sliding to her knees. This is the kind of surprise -- and intimate action -- which Mel knows how to handle. Her smile darkens with desire as Caitlyn flips her skirt up. ]

Oh, very focus - ah! [ A sudden moan tears out of Mel's mouth and rolls over whatever words might have otherwise emerged; Caitlyn's soft lips upon Mel's clit urges a sharp and powerful push of pleasure up through her body. She gasps and tilts her head back while her legs instinctively spread wider, and one now-trembling hand comes to caress Caitlyn's hair. ] Oh... Oh, good girl, Caitlyn, very good girl...

[Mel's sharp moan and the subsequent feeling of Mel's fingers in her hair and the silken tones of Mel's voice telling her how good she is send a bolt of heat lancing straight to Caitlyn's core. But rising to meet it is another little anxious twinge.

That moan was not quiet.

She flips Mel's skirt out of her way so she can look up at the other woman with a worried gaze.]

What if someone hears?

[Caitlyn is no stranger to breaking rules. And she's no stranger to people talking about her - behind her back and to her face. But this is sex. Where someone might hear. And what if someone does hear? This is different to other sorts of rule-breaking! Even if she couldn't exactly say why.]

[ Mel's forehead creases in slight concern when Caitlyn flips her skirt, meeting her gaze with worry in those brilliant eyes. Rules aren't something Mel tends to abide by; she'll stay within their confines if she can for the sake of simplicity, but if one is careful (and powerful) enough, then there isn't a rule in the city that can't be bent, broken, or outright ignored.

Still, she must concede that Caitlyn has a point. Being discovered even by some low-level nobody could have consequences, considering there's almost certainly a rule against fucking in an enforcer debriefing room. Her look of concern relaxes and she smiles warmly down at Caitlyn, stroking her hair for a moment. ]

Well, then they'll be awfully jealous, won't they? [ Mel rolls her tongue around the inside of her mouth as if tasting her own idea. When she speaks, it's with the clipped authority of a council member. ] I have a solution. Stand up, take off your trousers and give me your underwear, darling. Go on, be a good girl.

them sexts

mel medarda | arcane | ota

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