'That tapping noise,' said Holmes.
I strained my ears. Sure enough, from some distance but nearing rapidly there came a sound of shuffling footsteps accompanied by a strange, insistent rapping.
'A blind man,' I said as I discerned a figure approaching in the gloom.
'Making surprisingly swift progress for one with his affliction,' said Holmes. 'Something's afoot.' Suddenly he turned in the other direction.
'A second blind man,' he said. 'An odd coincidence.'
We ducked down some area steps as he motioned me to silence. The two figures converged, each feeling along the kerbstone with his cane. Closer and closer they came. With a bump and a mutual cry of surprise, they collided. Each stood still as though waiting for the other to step out of the way. Then each began to mutter angrily as they measured up to each other. One waved his cane and made contact with the other.
'This is awful,' I whispered. Each obviously assumed that the other could see and expected him to stand aside. In a trice they were swearing and flailing at each other. I stepped forward.
Holmes pulled me back. 'Don't,' he hissed, 'I scent a diversionary tactic.' By now a grotesque fight had broken out. A carriage pulled up and the driver leaped down to pull the two apart. A passer-by joined in.
'There!' said Holmes.
'What?' I said.
'There! Getting out of the far side of the carriage.' Sure enough a shadowy figure had slipped out and quickly vanished towards the servants entrance to Lady M-'s establishment. 'That's our man,' said Holmes. 'Keep down!'
'How can you tell?' I asked.
'A well-dressed man in a top hat and with a silver-topped cane, descending to the servants entrance,' said Holmes. 'Even the most superior servant would not be so dressed. Note also the military bearing.'
There came the softest of raps at the door. At once it opened and our quarry was let in.
'Someone was waiting for him,' said Holmes. 'There is an accomplice inside the household.'
'What do we do?' I asked.
'We wait,' said Holmes.
We waited. The fighting blind men allowed themselves to be parted. They calmed down and tapped on down the road. The coach driver remounted, clicked his tongue at the horse and proceeded on his way, turning the corner and passing out of our sight. The passer-by, who had been the accidental recipient of a couple of stinging blows, patted himself down, wiped his face and walked on, limping a little. Silence fell. Holmes began to creep up the steps. Then as I followed, he crouched down, and I felt a pull at my elbow from behind. I turned, startled.
'Tuppence for a fuck,' said a small voice. 'Or thruppence for the both of you.' Angrily I pulled away.
'Not now!' I exclaimed, trying to keep my voice down.
'Tuppence for a very good fuck,' she insisted, and two thin but strong arms were flung round me. 'First of the evening,' she importuned. 'A good clean fuck.'
As I tried to wrestle her from me, my foot slipped and I fell down the steps and landed in a heap at the bottom, all entangled with her. As her body was squashed under mine, she wriggled and hung on to me.
At this point Mr. Pego betrayed me and rose to attention. She felt my mutinous member pressing against her and quickly dropped her hands down, seizing hold of him through the unfortunately threadbare cloth of my disguise.
'My, he's a big, strong fellow,' she said. 'Surely you wouldn't deny a girl a chance of feeling that inside her.'
Despairingly I looked up but Holmes had vanished, leaving me to grapple with my seductress.
'Never mind about the other gentleman,' she said. 'You can catch him up in a minute or two.'
'He's not a gentleman,' I hissed. 'We're just a couple of poor crossing sweepers. You've made a mistake.'
'Crossing sweepers don't talk like that,' she said. 'You're gentry, no matter how you're dressed. On your way to a fancy dress ball, are you?'
'We're keeping watch-' I started, nearly revealing all in my confusion.
'Never mind what you're doing,' she said. 'None of my business. In here!' She pushed open a door and dragged me into complete darkness. Something gave way under my feet and I fell over once more. There was a rumbling noise and what felt like a cascade of stones fell on me.
'We're in a coal hole!' I cried out, trying to regain my balance but falling over again as the mound of coal shifted under me. 'This is ridiculous!'
'Never mind,' she said, quite invisible in the Stygian blackness but still keeping firm hold of my prick. 'The dirt'll just add to your disguise. Now keep still while I get my gloves off. Don't want to get your prick all gritty. I'll have him out in an instant.'
Strong little hands unbuttoned me. As my eyes began to get used to the darkness, I could just about see my prick, ghostly white where the light from the half-closed door caught it.
'There,' she whispered, 'I'll guide you.'
All at once I felt the warmth of her bush rubbing against the tip of my already straining member. I stopped struggling. What else could I do? The quicker we got this over, the quicker I could get out and follow Holmes.
Now she was straddling me as I lay back. Expertly she lowered herself on to my prick, burying it entirely in her already wet cunney. Cautiously she began to ride up and down on me. I responded and felt the coal shift beneath me.
'Careful,' she said. 'We don't want to start an avalanche.'
I lay still once more. The idea of being buried alive while fucking did not appeal. She did not make any abrupt movements but just used her inside muscles, clenching and unclenching herself about my swollen cock. 'Cleopatra's grip,' I recalled Becky calling it. One of those feminine skills handed down from Antiquity in a centuries-old tradition. Never was it more needed now. One over-abrupt movement and catastrophe threatened.
Perilous though our situation was, I realised that I was beginning to thoroughly enjoy it. I was in the hands, or rather the cunney, of an expert.
As I surrendered to professional care, I forgot everything except the delicious rhythmic squeezing that was rapidly driving me towards my coming. I felt the first stirring as my jism began to churn inside my swollen balls. I must have made some slight sound.
'That's it,' she said, 'let it come. Everything you've got. Right into me.' I did as I was bid. Steadying myself on the ever-shifting coal slope with my outstretched arms, I began to pump spurt after spurt of my cum up and into her. After the events of the afternoon, I was surprised at how much I could summon up. Rising and falling a little now on me, she milked me as our juices were spread over my prick and began to trickle down into my hair.
'I call it my Wishing Well,' she said softly in my ear. 'When the last drop comes out, you must close your eyes and think of what you would most like to happen to you. I can see the whites of your eyes,' she went on. 'You're supposed to close 'em when you wish.'
I did as she commanded. All I could wish was that I could get out of there as soon as possible and follow Holmes. My first Case and already I had a sense of failure. 'AH done then?' she said.
I nodded and then coughed as some coal dust tickled my throat.
'Up we come then,' she said, carefully lifting herself off my discharged but still erect firing piece. 'A good two penn'orth, wasn't it?'
I nodded again, feeling in my pocket for some coins. As I began to lever myself up, I slipped.
'Blast this coal!' I said.
'Anthracite,' she said.
'What?' I said, still struggling to pick myself up.
'Good Welsh anthracite,' she said. 'Best there is for burning. Born and brought up in the Valleys, I was. Learned my trade at the pit head.'
'Young woman, this is not the time or place to discuss the merits of different types of coal,' I said, looking up at her. 'Help me up!'
She reached down, seized hold of my hands and pulled me to my feet.
'I must find my friend,' I said.
'I'll come with you,' she said. 'Maybe he'll want a quick fuck as well.'
