The whole thing starts out as an honest mistake. The laptop was purchased, first and foremost, for the purposes of research and easy access to roadmaps when needed, but Dean's a dude, twenty-four, and single, so it doesn't exactly take him long to work out that The Internet is For Porn. And, boy, is there a lot of it. Asian chicks, blonde chicks, gloriously curvy chicks; blowjobs and reverse-cowgirls and scary-looking toys; and, because Dean's a versatile kind of guy, he's clicked on more than a couple intriguing stills of ripped young men, hoping they'll look just as hot in action. None of this is the mistake.
Dean's mistake was stumbling upon Jay Kansas. And he did stumble, too; he's scoured his conscience over and over since it happened, wondering if there was some subconscious motivator in the line of the jaw, the breadth of the palms on that boy, willing him to click, but, guilty as he feels, he doesn't think there was. Jay was just some Youporn sensation, a college boy gay for pay, and the general consensus was that he was
( ... )
He looks okay in the vids, though. Not possessed, not bruised, not underfed or unhappy, but - okay. More than okay, in fact. He makes sounds like he's dying of pleasure and he looks like a golden god, and Dean misses him like blood and he's only fucking flesh and bone. He watches his brother, leaps on each newly posted video as proof of his continued existence, and fuck, it's wrong, but he touches himself as he does it all the same, fingers thrust into the unzipped vee of his jeans as Sam twists and moans under some guy's weight. He's hotter than all the Asian chicks and lipstick lesbians, than the twinks and the cougars and the bears. He comes like he's dying and he shoots to kill and when Dean comes with him, it's almost like they're together again, like some kind of affirmation. It's good, fuck, it's good.
Dean knows it's a mistake, really. He does. But Sam's a thousand miles away and Dean's a lonely, thankless drifter, and by the fourth cheap motel of the week he no longer feels like a hero. He knows it's wrong, but Sam is
( ... )
Dean's investigating deaths in a strip club. Jo's investigating them as well - undercover. Lap dance in the front room as they swap information; Jo grinding down on Dean's crotch and getting him off before stopping.
Filled - Slow Grindthe_rant_girlMarch 11 2011, 15:33:47 UTC
ah, I've never written Jo before, and I'm not sure this was exactly what you were looking for, but the prompt inspired, so here's my contribution, hope it's alright. She made him the second he came in the door, and she was glad to see he wasn’t with Sam. That meant she could actually have some fun with him. He was so busy checking out the girl currently wrapped around the pole that he started when she threw her leg over his lap, tilting forward ever so slightly, she ran her hands up his thighs, her breasts but a few inches from his face, as she leaned in, letting her lips brush against his ear, “Hello Dean, here about the dead girls I take it,” and she swayed her hips from side to side, “Maybe you might want to take your eyes off the live ones
( ... )
Sam/Dean - Stanford!era lap dancetransfixeddreamMarch 11 2011, 12:56:43 UTC
(possible dub-con) Sam's buddies from college takes him out to celebrate *insert accomplishment here*. They even buy him a lap dance with a guy who's apparently the best around. Much to Sam's horror, the guy ends up being Dean, undercover on a case. Sam can't say anything because he doesn't want his friends to think his brother's a stripper (well okay, he is, temporarily), and Dean can't refuse them because he doesn't want to make a scene. It's not long before they both get into it.
...Or, you know, you can ignore me and just write Dean grinding on Sam's lap. I'm not picky.
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Sam is recruited into college-boy gay-for-pay porn productions while at Stanford, and becomes a big star on the internet. Dean starts watching.
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Dean's mistake was stumbling upon Jay Kansas. And he did stumble, too; he's scoured his conscience over and over since it happened, wondering if there was some subconscious motivator in the line of the jaw, the breadth of the palms on that boy, willing him to click, but, guilty as he feels, he doesn't think there was. Jay was just some Youporn sensation, a college boy gay for pay, and the general consensus was that he was ( ... )
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Dean knows it's a mistake, really. He does. But Sam's a thousand miles away and Dean's a lonely, thankless drifter, and by the fourth cheap motel of the week he no longer feels like a hero. He knows it's wrong, but Sam is ( ... )
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"Ow" LOLOLOL
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...Or, you know, you can ignore me and just write Dean grinding on Sam's lap. I'm not picky.
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