Better Than Birthday Candles (spn_30snapshots fic)
Title: Better Than Birthday Candles
Author xephwrites
Character(s)/Pairing: Dean, Dean/OFCs
Theme: spn_30snapshots Table 07 Leave Me Unholy And Dirty And Beautiful
Prompt: 16 wax play
Rating: R, I guess.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of its characters. Just playing with toys that are not mine. I promise to return them (mostly) undamaged!
Summary: Agent Nick Monroe gives Dean a treat at the strip club they're both investigating
Warnings: Set during ep 4.13 Sex And Violence, wax play, sensation play. Also unBeta'd.
Word Count: 859
Notes: This has been written since the day I signed up for the challenge. It's been hiding, sad and forgotten on my compy. The idea came from a few conversations I've had with exotic dancers about different ways to have fun on the job!
So maybe some FBI agents weren’t all bad. Like Agent Nick Monroe, who has now officially reached “Made Of Pure Awesome” status in Dean Winchester’s mind. Thanks to Nick, Dean was currently sitting on the stage of the strip club they were investigating, with three strippers giving him a lap dance. He had no clue how Nick pulled this off, or even how Dean will thank him. He’ll think about that after three half naked women stop rubbing up against him.
Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me was blaring through the crappy sound system. So it was a little clichéd, but it was still fantastic!
“Can I open your shirt?” the blonde currently straddling his legs whispered in his ear. Dean smirked and nodded. “Can we have some fun with you?” the redhead to his left asked. Dean nodded again.
The blonde on his lap tugged open his tie. She pulled on both ends, bringing Dean’s face forward to brush in between her unnaturally large breasts. The redhead slid his jacket off.
He could hear cheering coming from the other dancers that were not currently busy with other men in the club. He got it. It’s entirely possible that the girls get a little bored with the monotony of their jobs. So they take their fun where they can.
The redhead pushed him to rest against the back of the chair again. The blonde removed the tie and dropped it beside them. She loosened the top button, her neon pink acrylic nails scratching his neck slightly. After the second button popped open, she flashed a devilish smile.
“Sorry.” She whispered and ripped the shirt open. At least one of the guys in pervert’s row ended up with a button in his drink. Dean fought with himself to keep his hands at his sides. He loved when women got a little rough.
The brunette appeared at his side holding a large pillar candle and a glass of ice. A bolt of nervousness and desire shot through his body. The blonde laughed, grinding down on his now half hard cock.
“Guess we don’t need to ask if that’s okay.” Dean threw his head back, squashing the urge to thrust upwards. The redhead cupped his jaw and held his head gently so the very uninteresting ceiling was in his line of sight. The blonde shifted so that she was balanced on his knees.
Thank God he’s not a hairy beast like Dad. That would suck.
The first splash of wax hit his sternum. His hands gripped the legs of the chair and he gasped loudly. It burned, it hurt just a little, but it felt so fucking good. The hot liquid began to harden, making the tender flesh tingle even more. His blood sang as the painful pleasure radiated from his chest.
He shuddered and tried to pull away as an ice cube traced the taut muscle line of his neck. His eyes fluttered closed as his nerve endings went into overdrive. The ice cube moved away, but left a small droplet, now snaking its way towards his collar bone. The tip of a warm tongue caught it.
“You girls are evil.” Dean panted. He heard them giggling and moving around, getting themselves into position for the next onslaught of torture.
The second splash of wax landed in the small dip between his neck and collar bone. He hissed as a bit of the wax spilled over the bone and hardened a little further down his chest. His hips bucked upwards as the ice cube ran down the small path of hair from his belly button to belt buckle.
“Aw. No tongue this time?” He said with a playful grin. The girls giggled again. The redhead released the light hold she had on his head. The blonde and brunette each straddled one of Dean’s legs. They both were grinding down on him in time with the song.
The splashes of wax fell in a random pattern on his chest. The ice cubes were melting a little faster from the heat radiating from Dean’s skin. He hadn’t been this turned on, this strung out with desire in a while. He was achingly hard, and the inside of his boxer briefs was wet from precum.
“Last one,” the redhead whispered. Dean was panting at this point. He was going to die, again. But that was just fine with him.
Hot wax hit one nipple and the last ice cube touched the other. Dean threw his head back as a loud gasp was torn from him. The sensation was almost too much, and Dean had to fight with himself not to come in his pants like a teenager. The three dancers were laughing with delight, as they handed him his discarded clothing. The dancers in the audience, and a few of the patrons, were applauding. Dazed, Dean smiled and raised a hand to the crowd. He made his way off the stage and back to their table. Agent Nick Monroe was clapping with a huge grin on his face.
Dean was going to thank him. And he knew just the way to do it.
game design schools
Author xephwrites
Character(s)/Pairing: Dean, Dean/OFCs
Theme: spn_30snapshots Table 07 Leave Me Unholy And Dirty And Beautiful
Prompt: 16 wax play
Rating: R, I guess.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of its characters. Just playing with toys that are not mine. I promise to return them (mostly) undamaged!
Summary: Agent Nick Monroe gives Dean a treat at the strip club they're both investigating
Warnings: Set during ep 4.13 Sex And Violence, wax play, sensation play. Also unBeta'd.
Word Count: 859
Notes: This has been written since the day I signed up for the challenge. It's been hiding, sad and forgotten on my compy. The idea came from a few conversations I've had with exotic dancers about different ways to have fun on the job!
So maybe some FBI agents weren’t all bad. Like Agent Nick Monroe, who has now officially reached “Made Of Pure Awesome” status in Dean Winchester’s mind. Thanks to Nick, Dean was currently sitting on the stage of the strip club they were investigating, with three strippers giving him a lap dance. He had no clue how Nick pulled this off, or even how Dean will thank him. He’ll think about that after three half naked women stop rubbing up against him.
Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me was blaring through the crappy sound system. So it was a little clichéd, but it was still fantastic!
“Can I open your shirt?” the blonde currently straddling his legs whispered in his ear. Dean smirked and nodded. “Can we have some fun with you?” the redhead to his left asked. Dean nodded again.
The blonde on his lap tugged open his tie. She pulled on both ends, bringing Dean’s face forward to brush in between her unnaturally large breasts. The redhead slid his jacket off.
He could hear cheering coming from the other dancers that were not currently busy with other men in the club. He got it. It’s entirely possible that the girls get a little bored with the monotony of their jobs. So they take their fun where they can.
The redhead pushed him to rest against the back of the chair again. The blonde removed the tie and dropped it beside them. She loosened the top button, her neon pink acrylic nails scratching his neck slightly. After the second button popped open, she flashed a devilish smile.
“Sorry.” She whispered and ripped the shirt open. At least one of the guys in pervert’s row ended up with a button in his drink. Dean fought with himself to keep his hands at his sides. He loved when women got a little rough.
The brunette appeared at his side holding a large pillar candle and a glass of ice. A bolt of nervousness and desire shot through his body. The blonde laughed, grinding down on his now half hard cock.
“Guess we don’t need to ask if that’s okay.” Dean threw his head back, squashing the urge to thrust upwards. The redhead cupped his jaw and held his head gently so the very uninteresting ceiling was in his line of sight. The blonde shifted so that she was balanced on his knees.
Thank God he’s not a hairy beast like Dad. That would suck.
The first splash of wax hit his sternum. His hands gripped the legs of the chair and he gasped loudly. It burned, it hurt just a little, but it felt so fucking good. The hot liquid began to harden, making the tender flesh tingle even more. His blood sang as the painful pleasure radiated from his chest.
He shuddered and tried to pull away as an ice cube traced the taut muscle line of his neck. His eyes fluttered closed as his nerve endings went into overdrive. The ice cube moved away, but left a small droplet, now snaking its way towards his collar bone. The tip of a warm tongue caught it.
“You girls are evil.” Dean panted. He heard them giggling and moving around, getting themselves into position for the next onslaught of torture.
The second splash of wax landed in the small dip between his neck and collar bone. He hissed as a bit of the wax spilled over the bone and hardened a little further down his chest. His hips bucked upwards as the ice cube ran down the small path of hair from his belly button to belt buckle.
“Aw. No tongue this time?” He said with a playful grin. The girls giggled again. The redhead released the light hold she had on his head. The blonde and brunette each straddled one of Dean’s legs. They both were grinding down on him in time with the song.
The splashes of wax fell in a random pattern on his chest. The ice cubes were melting a little faster from the heat radiating from Dean’s skin. He hadn’t been this turned on, this strung out with desire in a while. He was achingly hard, and the inside of his boxer briefs was wet from precum.
“Last one,” the redhead whispered. Dean was panting at this point. He was going to die, again. But that was just fine with him.
Hot wax hit one nipple and the last ice cube touched the other. Dean threw his head back as a loud gasp was torn from him. The sensation was almost too much, and Dean had to fight with himself not to come in his pants like a teenager. The three dancers were laughing with delight, as they handed him his discarded clothing. The dancers in the audience, and a few of the patrons, were applauding. Dazed, Dean smiled and raised a hand to the crowd. He made his way off the stage and back to their table. Agent Nick Monroe was clapping with a huge grin on his face.
Dean was going to thank him. And he knew just the way to do it.
game design schools