Blue Bliss, Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
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“Nothing” turns out to be pretty damn fun. It was decided that you would all hang out in the man cave to watch tv or a movie or whatever but you end up mostly ignoring the screen. Instead you straddle Dean, tasting those delicious lips of his over and over as Sam watches with a wicked glint in his eye from the opposite end of the couch. After a bit, apparently even Sam’s patience has a limit because he roughly scoops you off of Dean’s lap and sets you sideways on his. He becomes gentle almost immediately, his fingers ghosting up under your skirt and tickling your inner thigh till his fingers brush against your panties, sending shivers through all of you as he steals kisses from your eager mouth. Dean leans against the arm of the couch soaking up the show as you whimper against Sam’s mouth while he plays. He smiles, and then gently bites your lower lip, sending a shockwave through you as his hand moves up to massage your breasts.
You are so worked up, hot and bothered for Sam, but you’ve had so much sex already today and you wonder when enough will be enough. Sam seems to sense your fatigue because he doesn’t push, he only teases, your arousal a lazy recreation for him as he stirs that pool of desire deep in your belly, and you purr, knowing he’s enjoying every moment of the torture he causes. Both brothers savor the little show you make, writhing with Sam’s skilled touch and your whimpering moans fueling their lust until you’re all basking in a drowsy haze of salacious comfort.
Everyone does eventually settle down, your head laying in Dean’s lap and his fingers playing idly with your hair. Your legs are stretched across Sam as he gently runs his hand up and down your calf in a soothing rhythm while you all chat and pass the time with jokes and stories, the movie turned off long ago. It’s so fun to listen to the two of them talk. They take cracks at each other, pulling out all the stops with embarrassing stories from childhood or silly stupid things that happened while on a hunt that wasn’t funny at the time but over the years the bite has softened, allowing the humor to show through. It’s a truly enjoyable afternoon and you have no sense of time, lost in the feel of unending comfortable contentment until Sam pipes up, “Hey guys, we should probably get some dinner.”
Dean looks down at you, and a grin spreads across his features, “You know what. We’re going out. All of us.” Your eyes lock onto Dean’s, making sure he’s serious before you get your hopes up to much.
Sam’s eyebrows are raised at this proclamation and he sounds apprehensive but also hopeful as he asks, “Really?” Your thoughts exactly.
“Sure. This poor wittle thing is gonna start looking like that fake-ass sparkly vampire, all pale and sad, if we don’t get her some fresh air soon.” You smile and poke Dean in the side for saying that with such a mocking voice and Sam rolls his eyes at his brother, knowing that’s just a weak excuse for Dean to do what he wants.
Sam doesn’t seem to want to argue though, because he gently taps your leg as he looks at you with a shrug and a smile, “Alright. Let’s go see if you sparkle.” It’s your turn for eye rolling as your legs swing off of him and you stand up. Dean peels himself up off the couch and ropes you in for a quick kiss, his tongue darting between your lips as he grips your ass, humming in appreciation as he squeezes. Sam dips his eyes to the floor, stifling a chuckle, and then he clears his throat; Sam’s subtle way of saying step off, it’s my turn.
Dean smiles against your lips and then pulls away, “Let’s hit the road boys and girls.” You grin as he saunters off, disappearing out the door. Sam pulls you in, his hot firm body giving you a good stir as he slowly licks his way into your mouth with an appreciative moan. He’s always so reverent when he claims you, even his aggressive sex and that thing with the tie was a form of benediction, and he’s reveling in your taste as his fingers sift up into your hair where he grips you tight, not allowing you to move until he allows it. You comply with no resistance and his attention reforms you, making you completely pliable and you abruptly want nothing more than to please him, to worship the graceful god Sam. He gently releases you, pulling at your bottom lip as he steps back and you feel it snap back into place before you open your eyes and see him drinking in the sight of you. “We better go or that dumbass will drive off without us.” Sam’s voice is thick with desire and laced with mirth; and you grin at him, savoring the effect you have on him, suddenly yearning to see exactly how much pleasure you could give him. Sam’s fingers thread through yours and then he leads you out the door without another word.
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It feels strange to be outside the bunker, it’s like your world shrank down to nothing but concrete walls and that was the only place that existed, and now the outside world seems huge and frightening. Your grip tightens on Sam and he gives you a gentle smile as you walk to the Impala. Dean locks eyes with him for a moment and runs his hand discreetly down the left side of his jacket, your connection with the boys telling you that’s code for “I’ve got the knife”. That should probably be creepy but it actually comforts you, knowing that they always seem prepared for anything. Dean slides into the driver's seat as Sam, ever the gentleman, opens up the back door for you. This is one spacious car and you note the ample room in the back while watching Dean switch cassette tapes in the player up front. Dean suddenly turns, eyebrows raised. Apparently he’s just as surprised as you are when Sam folds himself into the backseat next to you and shuts the door with a creaking thud. Dean stares for a moment and then just shrugs; turns the key, and slowly rolls the car out onto the highway.
Bench seats are the best thing ever made because Sam beckons for you as he scoots in, his long arms pulling you close as he presses his lips against yours. Making out in the backseat of the Impala was not originally on your agenda but as Sam’s eager tongue explores your mouth you wonder why this never crossed your mind. Sam’s kisses become more fervent, breathy and overwhelming as his hands grope your body, the connection telling you that he felt your willingness to please him and now he’s overflowing with pent up desire. You begin to loose yourself in the feel of him, Sam’s fingers gliding up your inner thigh just like before as your legs open without protest so he can brush lightly against your panties, the same salacious shivers vibrating throughout your body at his touch. You moan into his kisses, his fingers snaking up under the fabric so they can explore your bare aching sex. Sam has only been playing long enough for Dean to get up to speed on the highway but already, you feel yourself nearing the edge. Your lust is building up to unmanageable levels and just like it always does the world melts away. Before you realize what you’ve done, seeming to have no control over your actions, you feel yourself straddling Sam Winchester in the back of the Impala. It’s a tight fit as your tongue continues to play between Sam’s moaning lips but it feels so right to have him between your legs and the way his hands are caressing you just fuels you on harder.
“Hey.” Dean’s voice rattles you back to reality for a moment. “Come on guys.” He’s not angry; his voice is almost a playful whine, “Have a little decency will ya?” You peel your face from Sam’s so you can gaze at Dean. You can only imagine how you look, swollen slick lips and glazed eyes as you use the rearview mirror to lock eyes with him and flash a wicked grin. Your smile grows wider as you see Dean shift in his seat, his pants suddenly to constricting as he grudgingly goes back to watching the road. A flash of sensual heat runs through you when you realize exactly where you are, what you are about to do, and who is watching, and you dive back into Sam’s mouth, your tongue delving deep and aggressive. Sam equals your passion, his hands sliding up your legs and under your skirt so his powerful hands can massage your ass. “Just…. no bodily fluids on the upholstery, you hear me Sammy?” Dean is trying to sound stern but there is no threat in his voice at all.
“Shut up Dean.” Sam’s voice comes out thick, husky and sharp, heavily distracted as his lips reclaim yours while you quickly unbutton his shirt. Damn him for wearing an undershirt but it can’t be helped, at least you can still feel Sam’s muscles beneath the thin white fabric as he shifts, his tongue forever exploring your depths as he continues to grip and knead your body. You fumble with his zipper and by sheer force of will and a little luck you manage to unfasten them and shimmy Sam’s jeans and boxers down to his feet, exposing his shaft which looks painfully hard as it bobs against his undershirt.
Suddenly the engine of the Impala roars louder and music blares from the front speakers, Guns-n-Roses welcoming you to the jungle as Sam slides down in the seat, his legs spreading wide from lack of room, while his feet stay trapped together by his pants. You straddle him again and smile against Sam’s lips because you know that Dean is going to keep driving until you’ve had your fun and with this position you have complete control of Sam and that thought sends heat shooting straight to your core. Sam is a giant and his legs are so damn long but with him slid down, your panties easily press down against his aching member and you roll your spine, shifting into his massages as he teases your nipples and your tongue dips back between his lips. Sam’s breath is coming in deep pulling moans as you tease his cock and allow him to pebble your nipples into hardened stones.
You finally have to abandon Sam’s mouth, focusing so you can push your panties to the side, and you gasp as Sam’s cock glides into your wet and ready heat. Holy fuck it feels glorious to be filled up by Sam Winchester. You whimper against his hair as you curl around him, shivering through the blissful feel of him deep inside you and Sam lets out a muffled grunt of bliss, barely audible over the music. He recovers quickly; suddenly busy working your shirt up and off, followed by him unhooking your bra. You’re topless, straddling Sam with his dick stuffed deep inside you while Dean continues to drive fast and smooth down the highway and it’s fucking amazing. You begin to curl your pelvis, savoring the feel as you slide him in and out, your hands clinging tight to the back of the seat. Sam grunts in time with your rhythm as his hands grip your jiggling breasts, and every downward drop is a blissful shock to your core, sending waves of resplendent warmth through your body.
You continue to move, riding Sam at your own maddened pace, spurred on by the knowledge that Dean is catching glances of you any chance he gets, his appreciation of the show feeding through the thread, hot and salacious as you fill yourself up with Sam again and again. And fuck if Sam isn’t wrecked as you ride him hard and unrelenting. His jaw is set, his eyes glazed, yet focused on you as he strains to hold out as long as possible. “God woman… you…. are… so amazing.” Sam’s strained voice of reverence in your ear fuels you on and his worshiping hands continue to pinch and tease your tender nipples as he fills you up so perfectly and it’s sending you to the edge fast. The song ends and it’s suddenly incredibly quiet other than Sam’s grunting moans, your passionate sighs and you hear Dean suck in a wanton breath, and it all mixes together, shooting straight to that craven pool and you’re gone. Your body shudders, your rhythm breaking as your orgasm spreads through every molecule and Sam grips your ass tight, keeping you moving as your body goes rigid with ecstasy.
Another song kicks on over the speakers but you can still hear Sam’s grunts, air rushing past his clenched teeth, his eyes wild, and every muscle he has begins to pull tight, “Nnnnnn God. Nnnnn fucking….” His head pushes back against the seat, his eyes squeezing shut as you see him losing it and you thrust down in a hard and fast frenzy because you want to make him cum so fucking hard. You gasp loud, reveling in the feel of his twitching cock as it bursts hot, deep inside you, and you don’t stop moving until his hands press you down against him so you can’t move and your body quivers at the sight of Sam Winchester unhinged and wrecked by your work.
You stay on his lap, savoring the moment as you lick at his pliant lips, your fingers threading into his hair while he does the same to you. You finally can’t handle that position any longer and you slide off, plopping down exhausted and content on the seat next to him. Sam doesn’t move, his chest still rising and falling in rolling heaves as his cock lays flaccid across his leg, his pants still down at his ankles. It’s a good look for him and you can’t help but smile at the view while steadying your own breathing. The music suddenly dissipates to a more manageable decibel and you hear Dean, “Dude. Pants.” Sam uses the rearview mirror to lock eyes with his brother and then he soundly flicks him off, rolling his head towards you with a smirk once he’s satisfied with Dean’s bitchface. You giggle as you grab your shirt and bra and then watch as Sam clumsily hauls his pants back up, spreading across the seat with his head in your lap. His long legs are folded awkwardly on the other end of the car so he can zip up his jeans and then he goes lax, content to remain as is. You trace your fingers along his jaw line and smile down at him, hoping he doesn’t move as you quickly dress yourself. Sam’s head stays on your lap and you settle in for the rest of the ride, running your fingers idly through his hair in the comfortable silence while Axl Rose knocks on heaven’s door.
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Good ole Bigerson’s. It’s not the same one Dean took you too and you begin to wonder how long Dean was driving because you were not paying any attention to the time at all. Typical of the Bigerson’s way, the building looks the same, the layout the same, and the people are all dressed the same; which is boring. But hey, it’s not the bunker and you are totally fine with it. Sam peels himself off your lap with a grunt and crawls out of the car while you and Dean roll out of the driver’s side. You’re parked off to the side again, in a discreet location near the back exit and Dean presses you up against the car for a hot and sloppy kiss “Damn you put on a good show.” Then he cracks a grin and jerks his chin in the direction of the front door. “Come on. I’m starvin’.” You slowly start to follow and Sam catches up quickly before you walk into the bright cookie cutter interior of the restaurant.
Dean grabs a table while you and Sam head to the bathroom for a quick clean up. When done, you stand at the sink for a moment, splashing your face with cool water in the empty bathroom. You’re still running on the high from your little stunt in the car but you’re also suddenly unexplainably nervous and you can only assume it’s because frightening memories are being slowly pulled out and dusted off without your permission. It’s not surprising since your last few moments at a Bigerson’s was not good and it’s slowly crawling out of the mental box you tucked it away in. You try to stuff it back down by ignoring it and focusing on the amazing bathroom sex you had with Dean and the delicious bliss of Sam straining with ecstasy beneath you not long ago, but your mind keeps flipping to what happened in the alley. That demon was horrifying and your heart races just thinking about it.
You replay the event in your mind, thinking maybe if it just has its moment it’ll go away. You remember the terror and surprise as he grabbed you, the way you felt helpless and you thought for sure he would kill you for less of a reason than just because it was fun. You shudder, your eyes looking haunted as you stare in the mirror. You notice the tiny line across your cheek, the hint of the cut you received that night and then you remember Dean, fierce and heroic, appearing like your white knight to save his damsel. It sounds so campy when you think of it that way but it truly was how it felt as you watched that monster die right in front of you, and the thought of Dean saving you changes your minds perception of him in that moment.
If you’re honest with yourself then you remember how cold and dead his eyes looked, the eyes of a killer as he twisted the knife in that monsters back but you can’t see him that way. It’s impossible despite that moment of merciless violence, and even despite his hang-ups of bravado and bluster, you only see Dean as a warm, caring, and lovable goofball. Your warped view of the world making what he did a comfort to you, which sounds insane, because murder should never be a comfort; but it was because you remember the way Dean was worried about you, the way he made sure you were fine and somehow that makes what he did ok. Focusing on Dean instead of the demon helps your heart slow its pace back to normal and you begin to feel yourself relaxing because both Sam and Dean are right outside in the dining room waiting... waiting for you to get out there and keep them company. You dry your face and hands, feeling warmth deep inside as you head out the door and a broad smile appears, dazzling the boys when you spot them at a booth in the corner and you’re ok.
Sam sits across from you and Dean sits way to close to your side as food is ordered, but you don’t mind at all. The conversation is light, as usual, and those darn frisky boys just won’t stop touching you, their legs forever pressed up against yours, driving you to distraction. It’s a wonderful dinner and everyone is in good spirits as you and Dean cut up and joke around, not caring if you get a little too disruptive, despite Sam’s reminder that you should keep it down. Sam is adorable, always thoughtful and worried about others and it makes you want to kiss him hard, but you decide he wouldn’t be to keen on that “disruption” so you settle for picking on him by losing your shoe so you can tuck your foot up between his legs, your toes teasing his balls and giving him a double dose of that electric charge you always feel when you touch. You see the glint in his eye and the rigid twitch to his body and you can’t help but savor it a little bit as you torment him. Dean, as usual, does what he wants; his hand idly rubbing up and down your leg whenever he isn’t busy shoving food in his pie hole, or his fingers will gently ghost up and down your arm, making you shiver pleasantly. You all finally decide it’s time to head back, and considering that everyone is worked up again, you wonder how the evening hours will be spent, and that thought distracts you horribly.
Dean pays the tab and the three of you walk out the front door, smiling and laughing. Dean gives you a wink and then tosses the keys to Sam, “Sammy. You always complain about not getting to drive, so here you go, my treat.” Sam isn’t pleased by Dean’s “generosity” and you watch as he stands by the car with a severe bitchface. Dean saunters up to the back door of the Impala with a look that says, ‘you got a problem with that?” and you sigh because it looks like you’ll have to break this up. There is certainly plenty of you to go around and you tell them exactly that, but you don’t get to finish the sentence. You’re interrupted by Sam’s strangled cry and the electric buzz of a taser. You don’t understand what’s happening as you see a bag cover the pained expression on Sam’s face just before he falls to his knees. You freeze, terrified and unsure of what to do. “Son of a bitch!” You’re eyes dart to Dean as he rushes past you, that murderous glint in his eye as he goes to help his brother. Helpless and useless, that’s how you feel as you watch him lunge at the assailant and then you hear that sick electrical sound again, followed by pain coursing through your body. Good god that hurts! You hear yourself let out a strangled cry just like Sam before everything fades to black and then your gone.