Porn Battle V (the fifth dimension)
Porn Battle V (the fifth dimension) IS A GOTo join the battle, all you need to do is pick a prompt (any prompt, even if it's your own) and write the porniest bit of fiction you can, or make the hottest manip or painting or vid or song. Make it as kinky or as subtle as you like, but make it hot, melt your readers, create a stampede to all the ( Read more... )
Pete kisses like he's got something to prove, long enough to make Dean dizzy, hard enough to bruise.
Dean suggested going back to his motel, but at the rate things are going, with Pete pressing eager against his hip, he's not sure they'll make it that long.
"Easy, easy," he says, twisting away to unlock the car and clamber into the back seat of the Impala, Pete climbing in and settling in Dean's lap in one quick, smooth motion.
Pete keeps making these noises, soft needy sounds that make Dean grind up hard and get both of their jeans open in record time, wanting to feel Pete's heat against his own, wanting to see what Pete will sound like then.
He's rewarded with a breathy groan, muffled against his jaw, when he does finally get his hand around Pete's cock; Pete's already wet at the tip, the scent of it sticky and bitter in the air.
"God," Pete says. "I've got condoms if you've got lube."
Dean shudders. "Fuck yeah," he says, flailing an arm towards the passenger-side footwell, where there's a small bag of necessities.
If Pete's bothered by the 9mm in the kit, he doesn't show it, just shucks off his pants and climbs back into Dean's lap, his thighs lean and white in the dim light, reaching back to touch himself with fingers coated in slick.
Groaning, Dean touches Pete's back, feels the dip of his lower spine and then walks his fingers lower to feel Pete's fingers industriously slicking, stretching, feels Pete's delicate whole-body shudder as he fucks himself open. He surges forward to kiss Dean again when Dean gently strokes the taut skin of Pete's rim; this time he's messy and graceless, breaking off and dropping his head forward when Dean wraps a hand around Pete's cock.
"Come on," he breathes, pressing a condom into Dean's free hand, rocking back onto his own fingers and crying out when Dean stops fisting him to grab his hips, pull him close.
Pete's fingers brush the head of Dean's cock as Pete withdraws them, and then Pete hitches his hips a little and Dean's inside, fucking up into the searing heat of Pete's ass. "Jesus," he chokes out, and then leans up, captures Pete's mouth again as Pete picks up a fast, ungentle rhythm that makes both of them groan.
"Yeah," he murmurs into Dean's mouth, one hand curling around the back of Dean's neck for balance and the other stroking his own inner thighs, cupping his balls, pressing teasingly against his own perineum so that Dean can feel the pressure on his dick.
Dean's breath stutters, the muscles in his groin jumping, but he holds it together. "Prick," he says, taking Pete in hand again, and Pete's answering laugh turns into a long moan as Dean works him over with hard, twisting strokes, thumb pressing thick against the underside. "Fuck, you're greedy for it, aren't you?"
Pete nods, breathless as he shudders, and suddenly his body seizes up, sucking kisses into Dean's jaw and throat as he covers Dean's hand with come.
It only takes a few strokes for Dean to come, too, the aftershocks rippling through Pete practically ripping an orgasm from Dean. He cries out hoarsely as he fills the condom, buried to the hilt in Pete's body.
Pete moves first, groaning as Dean's dick slips wetly from his ass. "Shit," he says, flopping down on the seat.
They sit there for a minute, catching their breath, sprawled side-by-side in the backseat.
[again, read the rest here]
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(Went and read the whole thing, and it's even better with context. Pete all jazzed up at 3 am, Dean dirty and tired and mmm...I think I may have to bookmark this one. Fabulous.)
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