(no subject)
Sorry for all the fics, guys! I wouldn't have to do it this way if I could get my bunnies under size control...
Title: Recall
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Pamela
Rating: NC-17 *gasp* I know.
Length: 3,500 words
Summary: She wants to help him remember all that he had forgotten.
A/N: This oen's for tiptoe39, Who I need to thank a thousand times for her listing giving me a good excuse to write one of my fav random ships. Kinks include touches of: desperation, supernatural sex, firsts, and marathons.
She had felt his eyes on her since she had gotten back, ripped away from her front row concert seats, and was plopped back on the earth. She felt him even as she was cursing a storm up at whoever had plucked her out of her little square of heaven and back into the boiling fray. It was his voice stumbling over her name that caused her to turn to see a very shocked pair of brothers staring at the woman who appeared suddenly in their hotel room.
“Hey Grumpy, Dean.” She said nonchalantly as if revival was the most natural thing in the world. “Either of you two know why I'm walking earth side again? And right before the final set, too.”
“Wait…you’re pissed that you’re NOT DEAD?” Dean sputtered, the notion completely flooring him.
“Well I suppose there are some good things about it. And it seems like they gave me my sight back, too.” She winked in Sam’s direction only to see him bristle. She shrugged.
After the full interrogation, which involved a big gulp of holy water and several incantations thrown her way, Castiel popped in to give her a clean bill of health. He, apparently, had been the one responsible for it. It was part of his cleanup duty apparently. Satisfied by the angelic a-okay, Dean declared that it was time to celebrate and dragged them out to the nearest bar.
There Pamela rediscovered her love for greasy food - real food. It was strange, apparently, how it did actually taste different from the memory-conjured version in heaven. And in a good drink. They lost themselves in noise and life. But somewhere between the bar counter and the hot Asian man who had taken a liking to her, Pamela noticed that Grumpy was nowhere to be found. She looked in Dean’s direction who bobbed his head towards the door.
Slipping out of the smoke and music Pamela spotted him as a dark spot on the horizon. Had he left that long ago? Hadn’t she noticed? Sighing she called after him. He didn’t respond.
“HEY! Sam!” She yelled after, starting into a jog. “Wait up! Hey!” She caught up to him as he shuffled to a stop.
“Hey.” She repeated, softer this time as she pulled up to his side. “What’s gotten into, Grumpy? You didn’t even say goodnight.” She frowned, reaching up to put her hand on his shoulder. He snorted at her question.
“Just figured you wouldn’t care.” His tone seemed downright pissed. “Besides you have Dean there, don’t you?”
“Awww, didn’t know you’d care, sweetie.” She smiled, honestly touched his touch of jealousy. “Dean and the three girls that are drooling in his lap. “ She added with a devious smirk, “And one very adamant angel who informed me he was waaaay off limits. Besides. He’s fun to toy with, but when the party ends that’s it. And despite appearances, I take business as well as pleasure.” She ran her hand down his arm from where it had been anchored.
“Sooo.. I'm a backup plan now?” He asked, walking forward a little bit.
“What?” She was puzzled. Was he sulking? “ Sam what are you talking about? And since when did you become a teenage drama queen?” His head snapped towards her.
“ I just… I’ve been jerked around enough, Pamela.” He turned his full body to her. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’re back and all… but I’ve done enough clean up and recovery. First I find out my life has been plotted out for me, I stop the friggin’ apocalypse, make it back from that pit only to find that life has gone on just fine until I’ve fucked it up again. I don’t know if Dean’s going to abandon me again for his family - and I sure as hell wouldn’t blame him for that - and every link to my past seems to screw up faster then I can say hello to it. So you’re going to have to forgive me if I’m a little bit of a jerk!”
The energies coming off of him shook her more then his words. Instinctively she closed the distance between them and pulled him into a hug. He bent down to hug her back, breathing in her bar-tainted scent. With that deep breath she could feel him relaxing. Slowly she rubbed circles on his back, urging him to just let it out.
“Feel better?” She asked, sobered in speech. He nodded against her shoulder before he pulled back to look at her, cradling her face in his large hands. She smiled up at him without expectation.
Slowly, cautiously, he leaned back down. This time he brushed her lips with his own with a most favorable greeting. The act was tentative and she raised herself to encourage him to continue but he pulled back. Now she was just frustrated.
“…Who’s the one doing the toying now?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
“It’s just… you… um.” There was no comfortable way around this. “You and Dean… your goodbye.”
Pamela stared at him. She blinked. And then, she laughed. Loudly, causing Sam to fidget.
Her grin that spread to her eyes returned as she took a very seductive step until she was back pressed against him. “Grumpy… I told you that wasn’t your first time visiting, didn’t I?” He nodded once.
“That kiss…” her eyes twinkled, “ was actually your idea. Said that it would drive him mad thinking about it if by some chance he remembered. A rather nasty trick… but…totally worth it.” She smirked at his flabbergasted expression.
Grabbing the lapels of his jacket she pulled him down so that she could whisper. “Believe me, Sammy… I’ve given you much…much… more enthusiastic greetings. It’s a damn shame you don’t remember… I certainly do.” She nearly purred, tangling her hands in his hair before depriving him of oxygen.
Sam’s guard broke down entirely at the feeling of her practically climbing her way up his body. He grunted, his hands reaching down to grab her legs, dragging her up high enough for her to latch on. Her ankles locked behind his back. Her arms looped around his neck, refusing to let go. Sam stumbled forward until his back found a telephone pole to help support her. It’s not that he couldn’t have done it. But this left his hands free to explore the curves of the woman who had been a perpetual tease.
His hands left her legs to push up under the fabric of her faded tee. She gasped into his mouth when his thumb swept the at the bottom ridge of her rib cage. Sam left her mouth in order to devout the skin near her collarbone. She tilted her bead backwards, looking up towards the flickering light as it cast shadows on and off them. Maybe the body remembered more then the mind because he was doing a pretty damn good job and she still had her clothes on. But two could play at that game.
Pamela smirked; breaking their kiss Pamela stretched her neck out to lick at the skin just behind Sam’s right earlobe. A rush of air being sucked into his lungs made her chuckle in triumph. “Don’t you want to know what else I’ve learned about you, Sammy?” she spoke into the nearby ear. He cranked his head back to look at her, his lust-darkened eyes meeting her own.
“Take us back.” She commanded, letting her legs fall and her arms loosen so that she practically sled down him. The contact made him bite his lip, repressing a sound that would surely distract those making their way out of the bar.
A few stolen kisses, and a swaggering step or two they finally reached the hotel the Winchesters had checked into. Sam had barely been able to tear himself away as he went to get an extra room from the clerk on duty, who thankfully had not checked him in that afternoon. Ignoring the hand that was firmly planted, and squeezing his ass was an entirely different problem.
They barely unlock the door when Pamela’s tearing at his clothes. Usually she’s a panther, slow seductive, and a master at the hunt. Not tonight. Tonight is about life, it’s about connection and energy, about learning to truly find your self center, and about giving him the best damn night he can dream of. Even if she did have the advantage here, she’s positive he won’t disappoint. He never did.
She’s gotten him down to his pants while he’s working under her shirt to undo the flimsy bra beneath. As far as she’s concerned he’s wasting his time but when she feels the tension caused by the fabric strip release and him run his hands along the elastic line it doesn’t seem so ineffective. His thumbs rested at her sides while his fingers rubbed the line underneath her breasts in a way that’s far too caring for the heated situation at hand but oh so Sam. And was far more effective at dizzying her then relaxing.
The younger Winchester wasn’t completely gentle. He had hoisted her up into his arms again forcefully causing her to dig her nails into the skin it found. Pamela ran her palms along his broad shoulder blades. Sparks quite literally traveled in their wake, crackling and sending goose bumps along Sam’s spine as he gasped, breaking the frantic game their tongues had been engaged in.
“What was that?” He asked. Panting.
“It’s us.” She responded, simply. “It’s the manifestation of our exchange. I’m a little rusty at controlling it. It’s nothing to be afraid of. Exchanges happen all the time. I just happen to have a little gift of making them translate into sensation.” She admitted with some bashfulness, but the prospect of the unknown did anything but dissuade Sam.
Experimentally she twists her head to nip along his jaw line. Small pricks linger for a moment in their wake and it’s enough explanation for Sam. He continues his original plan and with a few wobbly steps Pamela feels herself unceremoniously tossed on the mattress. He stands at the edge of the bed for a moment before he’s crouched over with one hand anchoring at her hip. She didn’t need to be psychic to read his intent. Then again, Sammy was always a loud broadcaster.
In a handful of movements he’s slipping his hands under her, encouraging her to life herself so that he can finally get rid of those sinful jeans. The motion is like a whip. She comes back down to the bed with a bounce. Sam lowers himself to his knees and she nudges hers with his cheek, nibbling at the inside skin there. It’s his mouth that travels up, his hands following suit on the oppisite side. She greedily opens for him the heat of their being prickling every edge of her lower half.
Unabashedly he pressed his nose into her scent, taking her in before pressing his tongue into the damp trail along the surprisingly girly frills that acted as a final barrier. Pamela gasped, pressing into the wet touch. She hadn’t realized just how much she had missed this, him, or how much her body had longed for him until now. His patience was wearing thin. Without much thought he continued his licking to the waistline where his teeth then worked to roll them far enough away for his hands to take over the final removal.
Pamela wasn’t sure when he had turned the tables on her, taking charge of the situation. But it almost made her laugh. Even in the midst of passion he was thinking of others. She missed that. A lot. It really had been too long. Even if he wasn’t wasting time, his mouth having found it’s way back to her center. Heat filled her, clouding her senses.
Sure part of her heaven included some damn wild nights. But that had been different. It had lacked that sense of self she had always had when she was human. After all, there was no physical form. Their existence was the energy itself. And while that was amazing in its own right, there was something about the two forms colliding that felt far more satisfying. Especially when the other one was someone you longed to be with in any sense.
Their time in the human world had been brief. Their time in the spiritual world was shorter, what with the reintroductions being a necessity. But she had learned what she needed to: Sam was fucking addictive. He was like a living, breathing, aphrodisiac.
“Sam….” She blindly reached down attempting to grab onto his hair…”Oh God, Sam.” She breathed when he had added one of his hands to his ministrations. She threw her head back into the mattress as she pressed upon him.
“Fuck, Sam if you don’t stop… I…” His fingers curled inside of her, his lips encasing that near-magical nub of nerves and the room exploded in front of her. He let his fingers continue their work as he trailed up his body, her orgasm crackling around him. He bathed in it as he climbed up onto the bed with her. When she was able to see clearly again he was feasting on her nipples, suckling on one before abandoning it for the other.
“Girl doesn’t get a break then, eh?” She chuckled, regaining her breath. Her released had returned her composure of mind to her. And she was keenly aware of the clothed bulge that was pressing into the space between her legs.
Pamela pulled herself up on her elbows, sliding away from him. He tried to lunge at her but she placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Shaking her head she beckoned him closer, crawling forward until she gained enough leverage on him to flip him onto his back. It took some willingness on his part but soon she was the one hovering over him, Her hands ridding him of that offensive belt.
“Pocket.” He urged in a moment of coherency before she could move to him. “Wallet.” He offered. Her eyes softened.
“Not tonight, Sammy.” He looked like he was going to protest. Instead she leaned over to give him a quick, chaste, kiss. “My body, honey. I call the shots. And tonight…” She let one hand line his jaw, the sparks returning. “I don’t want some silly slip blocking you from me.”
Teasingly she let two fingers walk along his chest until they reached the fuzzy trail that led to his arousal. He seemed to forget his suggestion. She did not grip him, but taunted him with those fingers letting them circle a spiral where she would have fisted. He glared up at her until she finally relinquished her taunt and fisted the warm flesh in her hand coaxing it to capacity. He growled her name in warning.
“What, Sammy?” She asked as she scooted closer to him, feigning innocence. Which was hard to do when you were performing the task she currently was.
Beneath all of his impatience, and the occasional buck into her hand she knew he loved a part of this. Sam was a strong man, one who took others pleasure into his hands-quite literally. He was also incredibly intimidating in his own way. But there was something about being able to lay back, to have someone take charge of him, dominating him to some extent, that he found incredibly therapeutic.
Or highly annoying. In... all the right ways.
“What is it that you want, honey?” She purred lifting herself over him, hand still on him, prepared to guide him into her but hovering just out of contact.
“You, fuck.” He growled, his hand returning to her hip as he tried to buck up to close the space. “Pamela… you.”
In one motion she slid onto him, still slick and heated from his earlier present to her. Sam half shot up, latching onto her with both hands to steady her. Her own hands flew to his shoulders, her neck bending down, curly hair tickling her chest. A gasp of ecstasy escaped. Neither was sure whom it had come from. Ever so slowly, Pamela lowered herself fully down onto him.
“Fuck, Sammy…” She hissed, panting lightly her whole body contorting as he tried to move into her from below. “Bigger then I remember.”
“Me?” He gasped, yanking her down until her space had swallowed him. His eyes nearly rolled back, his hands sliding up her back. “How can you be so fucking tight?” She was about as virginal as Dean was, and she had a few years on him.
“Mmmm…” she sighed. “Maybe it was gift? Compensation from above…So much for being prude buggers” She suggested lifting away from him slightly only return to him. He almost laughed.
“You forget who that angel’s been hanging around.” He stopped their conversation, finding her mouth once again.
They didn’t need words. They moved together, Pamela guiding him into their dance as they collided in limbs and tongues. Around them colors danced. In every touch she could feel his longing, his jealousy, and regret. His yearning went beyond a physical need. How lonely had he been? She pulled away the feeling of guilt and hugged him tighter with her thighs. In butterfly kisses she sent to him what she could - all he had forgotten.
She caressed spots it had taken her ages to find. She knew exactly where to nibble to make him clutch her, little things that served as proof that she wasn’t lying to them about what they had done. She needed to show him how much she wanted him -all of him, the good and the ugly. Things that should scare someone shitless if they received that level of commitment on a night they considered to be the first time they had ever connected.
Luckily, Sam was used to the strange. If anything he grasped on, searching. She could feel his desperation to find what had been forbidden for him to recall. Finally he stopped searching and entrusted himself to her care. It was touching, and Pamela made sure to make the best of the control he offered to her. In his unwinding he seemed to find what he had been searching for. Even if he didn’t realize that was how he was continuing to make her gasp.
“That’s it, baby.” She breathed, her chest heaving against his. He was loosing control and fast. His hands roamed everywhere, his mouth unsure where to station itself. “You took care of me, sweetie. Let me get you there.” She encouraged though she knew he wouldn’t entirely settle down. He did, at least, lay back.
For a moment he simply watched her rocking against him. She had closed her eyes, enjoying the pure feel of him. No, of them. Her body had adjusted, molding to accommodate him perfectly. Their colors mingled together, mixing into a new shade. Sam couldn’t keep still, and when she bore down on him again, he cried out, bucking up into her. She held him firmly, tensing her entire body around him as she rode him out of his high. When he opened his eyes again his glow was fading lightly from her skin.
Reluctantly she slid off of him, setting down on the bed next to him on her side. Her fingers collecting the remains of his stamina as it circled its way up at him. He turned his head, a large hand coming to her face before he kissed her. This was less innocent, but less heated. It was satiated. Languish. Accepting.
Pamela’s heart fluttered in her chest like a teenager’s. He was still flustered, still confused. But nothing was solved in one night. Right now, suspended in the feeling of relief and disbelief of reality, was feeling pretty good. And it was progress.
“Was it always so good?” He asked into her skin as he licked away a trail of sweat.
“Sammy.” She said, squirming a bit. Damn that man’s mouth. “That was fumbling in the backseat level for us.” He looked back at her with a bit of shock.
“You should see the lightshow we could put on if we got there together.” She almost giggled. Oh yea. Definitely degrading for her age. A wicked smile crawled across Sam’s face. A hint of his old spark, she thought triumphantly.
“Yes, I think I should see it.” He agreed. Pamela laughed heartily.
“We’re not going to do much of the ‘sleeping’ in the term ‘sleeping together’ are we?” She asked, her arms entwining around his neck once more.
“Not if you have your way.” He retorted, kissing the happy curve that came to her eyes when she smiled.
Her way indeed, she thought when he dipped his head onto her skin again. Maybe being on earth wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Not a bad thing in the least.
Title: Recall
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Pamela
Rating: NC-17 *gasp* I know.
Length: 3,500 words
Summary: She wants to help him remember all that he had forgotten.
A/N: This oen's for tiptoe39, Who I need to thank a thousand times for her listing giving me a good excuse to write one of my fav random ships. Kinks include touches of: desperation, supernatural sex, firsts, and marathons.
She had felt his eyes on her since she had gotten back, ripped away from her front row concert seats, and was plopped back on the earth. She felt him even as she was cursing a storm up at whoever had plucked her out of her little square of heaven and back into the boiling fray. It was his voice stumbling over her name that caused her to turn to see a very shocked pair of brothers staring at the woman who appeared suddenly in their hotel room.
“Hey Grumpy, Dean.” She said nonchalantly as if revival was the most natural thing in the world. “Either of you two know why I'm walking earth side again? And right before the final set, too.”
“Wait…you’re pissed that you’re NOT DEAD?” Dean sputtered, the notion completely flooring him.
“Well I suppose there are some good things about it. And it seems like they gave me my sight back, too.” She winked in Sam’s direction only to see him bristle. She shrugged.
After the full interrogation, which involved a big gulp of holy water and several incantations thrown her way, Castiel popped in to give her a clean bill of health. He, apparently, had been the one responsible for it. It was part of his cleanup duty apparently. Satisfied by the angelic a-okay, Dean declared that it was time to celebrate and dragged them out to the nearest bar.
There Pamela rediscovered her love for greasy food - real food. It was strange, apparently, how it did actually taste different from the memory-conjured version in heaven. And in a good drink. They lost themselves in noise and life. But somewhere between the bar counter and the hot Asian man who had taken a liking to her, Pamela noticed that Grumpy was nowhere to be found. She looked in Dean’s direction who bobbed his head towards the door.
Slipping out of the smoke and music Pamela spotted him as a dark spot on the horizon. Had he left that long ago? Hadn’t she noticed? Sighing she called after him. He didn’t respond.
“HEY! Sam!” She yelled after, starting into a jog. “Wait up! Hey!” She caught up to him as he shuffled to a stop.
“Hey.” She repeated, softer this time as she pulled up to his side. “What’s gotten into, Grumpy? You didn’t even say goodnight.” She frowned, reaching up to put her hand on his shoulder. He snorted at her question.
“Just figured you wouldn’t care.” His tone seemed downright pissed. “Besides you have Dean there, don’t you?”
“Awww, didn’t know you’d care, sweetie.” She smiled, honestly touched his touch of jealousy. “Dean and the three girls that are drooling in his lap. “ She added with a devious smirk, “And one very adamant angel who informed me he was waaaay off limits. Besides. He’s fun to toy with, but when the party ends that’s it. And despite appearances, I take business as well as pleasure.” She ran her hand down his arm from where it had been anchored.
“Sooo.. I'm a backup plan now?” He asked, walking forward a little bit.
“What?” She was puzzled. Was he sulking? “ Sam what are you talking about? And since when did you become a teenage drama queen?” His head snapped towards her.
“ I just… I’ve been jerked around enough, Pamela.” He turned his full body to her. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’re back and all… but I’ve done enough clean up and recovery. First I find out my life has been plotted out for me, I stop the friggin’ apocalypse, make it back from that pit only to find that life has gone on just fine until I’ve fucked it up again. I don’t know if Dean’s going to abandon me again for his family - and I sure as hell wouldn’t blame him for that - and every link to my past seems to screw up faster then I can say hello to it. So you’re going to have to forgive me if I’m a little bit of a jerk!”
The energies coming off of him shook her more then his words. Instinctively she closed the distance between them and pulled him into a hug. He bent down to hug her back, breathing in her bar-tainted scent. With that deep breath she could feel him relaxing. Slowly she rubbed circles on his back, urging him to just let it out.
“Feel better?” She asked, sobered in speech. He nodded against her shoulder before he pulled back to look at her, cradling her face in his large hands. She smiled up at him without expectation.
Slowly, cautiously, he leaned back down. This time he brushed her lips with his own with a most favorable greeting. The act was tentative and she raised herself to encourage him to continue but he pulled back. Now she was just frustrated.
“…Who’s the one doing the toying now?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
“It’s just… you… um.” There was no comfortable way around this. “You and Dean… your goodbye.”
Pamela stared at him. She blinked. And then, she laughed. Loudly, causing Sam to fidget.
Her grin that spread to her eyes returned as she took a very seductive step until she was back pressed against him. “Grumpy… I told you that wasn’t your first time visiting, didn’t I?” He nodded once.
“That kiss…” her eyes twinkled, “ was actually your idea. Said that it would drive him mad thinking about it if by some chance he remembered. A rather nasty trick… but…totally worth it.” She smirked at his flabbergasted expression.
Grabbing the lapels of his jacket she pulled him down so that she could whisper. “Believe me, Sammy… I’ve given you much…much… more enthusiastic greetings. It’s a damn shame you don’t remember… I certainly do.” She nearly purred, tangling her hands in his hair before depriving him of oxygen.
Sam’s guard broke down entirely at the feeling of her practically climbing her way up his body. He grunted, his hands reaching down to grab her legs, dragging her up high enough for her to latch on. Her ankles locked behind his back. Her arms looped around his neck, refusing to let go. Sam stumbled forward until his back found a telephone pole to help support her. It’s not that he couldn’t have done it. But this left his hands free to explore the curves of the woman who had been a perpetual tease.
His hands left her legs to push up under the fabric of her faded tee. She gasped into his mouth when his thumb swept the at the bottom ridge of her rib cage. Sam left her mouth in order to devout the skin near her collarbone. She tilted her bead backwards, looking up towards the flickering light as it cast shadows on and off them. Maybe the body remembered more then the mind because he was doing a pretty damn good job and she still had her clothes on. But two could play at that game.
Pamela smirked; breaking their kiss Pamela stretched her neck out to lick at the skin just behind Sam’s right earlobe. A rush of air being sucked into his lungs made her chuckle in triumph. “Don’t you want to know what else I’ve learned about you, Sammy?” she spoke into the nearby ear. He cranked his head back to look at her, his lust-darkened eyes meeting her own.
“Take us back.” She commanded, letting her legs fall and her arms loosen so that she practically sled down him. The contact made him bite his lip, repressing a sound that would surely distract those making their way out of the bar.
A few stolen kisses, and a swaggering step or two they finally reached the hotel the Winchesters had checked into. Sam had barely been able to tear himself away as he went to get an extra room from the clerk on duty, who thankfully had not checked him in that afternoon. Ignoring the hand that was firmly planted, and squeezing his ass was an entirely different problem.
They barely unlock the door when Pamela’s tearing at his clothes. Usually she’s a panther, slow seductive, and a master at the hunt. Not tonight. Tonight is about life, it’s about connection and energy, about learning to truly find your self center, and about giving him the best damn night he can dream of. Even if she did have the advantage here, she’s positive he won’t disappoint. He never did.
She’s gotten him down to his pants while he’s working under her shirt to undo the flimsy bra beneath. As far as she’s concerned he’s wasting his time but when she feels the tension caused by the fabric strip release and him run his hands along the elastic line it doesn’t seem so ineffective. His thumbs rested at her sides while his fingers rubbed the line underneath her breasts in a way that’s far too caring for the heated situation at hand but oh so Sam. And was far more effective at dizzying her then relaxing.
The younger Winchester wasn’t completely gentle. He had hoisted her up into his arms again forcefully causing her to dig her nails into the skin it found. Pamela ran her palms along his broad shoulder blades. Sparks quite literally traveled in their wake, crackling and sending goose bumps along Sam’s spine as he gasped, breaking the frantic game their tongues had been engaged in.
“What was that?” He asked. Panting.
“It’s us.” She responded, simply. “It’s the manifestation of our exchange. I’m a little rusty at controlling it. It’s nothing to be afraid of. Exchanges happen all the time. I just happen to have a little gift of making them translate into sensation.” She admitted with some bashfulness, but the prospect of the unknown did anything but dissuade Sam.
Experimentally she twists her head to nip along his jaw line. Small pricks linger for a moment in their wake and it’s enough explanation for Sam. He continues his original plan and with a few wobbly steps Pamela feels herself unceremoniously tossed on the mattress. He stands at the edge of the bed for a moment before he’s crouched over with one hand anchoring at her hip. She didn’t need to be psychic to read his intent. Then again, Sammy was always a loud broadcaster.
In a handful of movements he’s slipping his hands under her, encouraging her to life herself so that he can finally get rid of those sinful jeans. The motion is like a whip. She comes back down to the bed with a bounce. Sam lowers himself to his knees and she nudges hers with his cheek, nibbling at the inside skin there. It’s his mouth that travels up, his hands following suit on the oppisite side. She greedily opens for him the heat of their being prickling every edge of her lower half.
Unabashedly he pressed his nose into her scent, taking her in before pressing his tongue into the damp trail along the surprisingly girly frills that acted as a final barrier. Pamela gasped, pressing into the wet touch. She hadn’t realized just how much she had missed this, him, or how much her body had longed for him until now. His patience was wearing thin. Without much thought he continued his licking to the waistline where his teeth then worked to roll them far enough away for his hands to take over the final removal.
Pamela wasn’t sure when he had turned the tables on her, taking charge of the situation. But it almost made her laugh. Even in the midst of passion he was thinking of others. She missed that. A lot. It really had been too long. Even if he wasn’t wasting time, his mouth having found it’s way back to her center. Heat filled her, clouding her senses.
Sure part of her heaven included some damn wild nights. But that had been different. It had lacked that sense of self she had always had when she was human. After all, there was no physical form. Their existence was the energy itself. And while that was amazing in its own right, there was something about the two forms colliding that felt far more satisfying. Especially when the other one was someone you longed to be with in any sense.
Their time in the human world had been brief. Their time in the spiritual world was shorter, what with the reintroductions being a necessity. But she had learned what she needed to: Sam was fucking addictive. He was like a living, breathing, aphrodisiac.
“Sam….” She blindly reached down attempting to grab onto his hair…”Oh God, Sam.” She breathed when he had added one of his hands to his ministrations. She threw her head back into the mattress as she pressed upon him.
“Fuck, Sam if you don’t stop… I…” His fingers curled inside of her, his lips encasing that near-magical nub of nerves and the room exploded in front of her. He let his fingers continue their work as he trailed up his body, her orgasm crackling around him. He bathed in it as he climbed up onto the bed with her. When she was able to see clearly again he was feasting on her nipples, suckling on one before abandoning it for the other.
“Girl doesn’t get a break then, eh?” She chuckled, regaining her breath. Her released had returned her composure of mind to her. And she was keenly aware of the clothed bulge that was pressing into the space between her legs.
Pamela pulled herself up on her elbows, sliding away from him. He tried to lunge at her but she placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Shaking her head she beckoned him closer, crawling forward until she gained enough leverage on him to flip him onto his back. It took some willingness on his part but soon she was the one hovering over him, Her hands ridding him of that offensive belt.
“Pocket.” He urged in a moment of coherency before she could move to him. “Wallet.” He offered. Her eyes softened.
“Not tonight, Sammy.” He looked like he was going to protest. Instead she leaned over to give him a quick, chaste, kiss. “My body, honey. I call the shots. And tonight…” She let one hand line his jaw, the sparks returning. “I don’t want some silly slip blocking you from me.”
Teasingly she let two fingers walk along his chest until they reached the fuzzy trail that led to his arousal. He seemed to forget his suggestion. She did not grip him, but taunted him with those fingers letting them circle a spiral where she would have fisted. He glared up at her until she finally relinquished her taunt and fisted the warm flesh in her hand coaxing it to capacity. He growled her name in warning.
“What, Sammy?” She asked as she scooted closer to him, feigning innocence. Which was hard to do when you were performing the task she currently was.
Beneath all of his impatience, and the occasional buck into her hand she knew he loved a part of this. Sam was a strong man, one who took others pleasure into his hands-quite literally. He was also incredibly intimidating in his own way. But there was something about being able to lay back, to have someone take charge of him, dominating him to some extent, that he found incredibly therapeutic.
Or highly annoying. In... all the right ways.
“What is it that you want, honey?” She purred lifting herself over him, hand still on him, prepared to guide him into her but hovering just out of contact.
“You, fuck.” He growled, his hand returning to her hip as he tried to buck up to close the space. “Pamela… you.”
In one motion she slid onto him, still slick and heated from his earlier present to her. Sam half shot up, latching onto her with both hands to steady her. Her own hands flew to his shoulders, her neck bending down, curly hair tickling her chest. A gasp of ecstasy escaped. Neither was sure whom it had come from. Ever so slowly, Pamela lowered herself fully down onto him.
“Fuck, Sammy…” She hissed, panting lightly her whole body contorting as he tried to move into her from below. “Bigger then I remember.”
“Me?” He gasped, yanking her down until her space had swallowed him. His eyes nearly rolled back, his hands sliding up her back. “How can you be so fucking tight?” She was about as virginal as Dean was, and she had a few years on him.
“Mmmm…” she sighed. “Maybe it was gift? Compensation from above…So much for being prude buggers” She suggested lifting away from him slightly only return to him. He almost laughed.
“You forget who that angel’s been hanging around.” He stopped their conversation, finding her mouth once again.
They didn’t need words. They moved together, Pamela guiding him into their dance as they collided in limbs and tongues. Around them colors danced. In every touch she could feel his longing, his jealousy, and regret. His yearning went beyond a physical need. How lonely had he been? She pulled away the feeling of guilt and hugged him tighter with her thighs. In butterfly kisses she sent to him what she could - all he had forgotten.
She caressed spots it had taken her ages to find. She knew exactly where to nibble to make him clutch her, little things that served as proof that she wasn’t lying to them about what they had done. She needed to show him how much she wanted him -all of him, the good and the ugly. Things that should scare someone shitless if they received that level of commitment on a night they considered to be the first time they had ever connected.
Luckily, Sam was used to the strange. If anything he grasped on, searching. She could feel his desperation to find what had been forbidden for him to recall. Finally he stopped searching and entrusted himself to her care. It was touching, and Pamela made sure to make the best of the control he offered to her. In his unwinding he seemed to find what he had been searching for. Even if he didn’t realize that was how he was continuing to make her gasp.
“That’s it, baby.” She breathed, her chest heaving against his. He was loosing control and fast. His hands roamed everywhere, his mouth unsure where to station itself. “You took care of me, sweetie. Let me get you there.” She encouraged though she knew he wouldn’t entirely settle down. He did, at least, lay back.
For a moment he simply watched her rocking against him. She had closed her eyes, enjoying the pure feel of him. No, of them. Her body had adjusted, molding to accommodate him perfectly. Their colors mingled together, mixing into a new shade. Sam couldn’t keep still, and when she bore down on him again, he cried out, bucking up into her. She held him firmly, tensing her entire body around him as she rode him out of his high. When he opened his eyes again his glow was fading lightly from her skin.
Reluctantly she slid off of him, setting down on the bed next to him on her side. Her fingers collecting the remains of his stamina as it circled its way up at him. He turned his head, a large hand coming to her face before he kissed her. This was less innocent, but less heated. It was satiated. Languish. Accepting.
Pamela’s heart fluttered in her chest like a teenager’s. He was still flustered, still confused. But nothing was solved in one night. Right now, suspended in the feeling of relief and disbelief of reality, was feeling pretty good. And it was progress.
“Was it always so good?” He asked into her skin as he licked away a trail of sweat.
“Sammy.” She said, squirming a bit. Damn that man’s mouth. “That was fumbling in the backseat level for us.” He looked back at her with a bit of shock.
“You should see the lightshow we could put on if we got there together.” She almost giggled. Oh yea. Definitely degrading for her age. A wicked smile crawled across Sam’s face. A hint of his old spark, she thought triumphantly.
“Yes, I think I should see it.” He agreed. Pamela laughed heartily.
“We’re not going to do much of the ‘sleeping’ in the term ‘sleeping together’ are we?” She asked, her arms entwining around his neck once more.
“Not if you have your way.” He retorted, kissing the happy curve that came to her eyes when she smiled.
Her way indeed, she thought when he dipped his head onto her skin again. Maybe being on earth wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Not a bad thing in the least.