FiercelyNormal (fiercelynormal) wrote,

Fic: The Lies We Tell Ourselves (Sam/Dean/OFC, NC-17, 1280 words)

Title: The Lies We Tell Ourselves
Pairing: Sam/Dean/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1280
Warnings/Kinks: Threesome, double penetration
Summary: Sometimes, Sam and Dean like to share a woman, and sometimes it’s not about the woman at all.
A/N: Written for Round 2 of spn_masquerade.


It’s a redhead this time. Sam likes when they find a redhead. He’s never loved one, and neither has Dean, so redheads don’t come with any extra baggage for either of them: no memories, no regrets, no pain. Only pleasure.

They don’t do this often, sharing a woman, only when the need for connection has built up so much that they can’t push it down, block it out, repress in true Winchester fashion any longer. The first time was after Dean came back from hell, when it seemed like they couldn’t stop touching each other, looking at each other to reaffirm that, yes, they were together, and safe, and home. They could scarcely look at each other for a week after, but it was worth every second.

Sam throws his head back, the cords of his neck standing out in stark relief as he closes his eyes and just feels. The redhead - Miranda? Melinda? moans around Sam’s dick as, behind her, Dean does something wicked with his tongue. Sam remembers with sick, guilty fondness the time Dean ate out a woman who was riding Sam’s dick, the skill that had her moaning and grinding down onto Sam’s pelvis, the three times he paused to lick up her dripping juices from the steel-hard column of Sam’s erection, and how Sam came harder than he had ever come before in his life. It only happened the one time, but it’s been one of Sam’s go-to memories for jerking off ever since.

Miranda/Melinda comes, pulling off of Sam’s dick to arch her back and moan, and Sam reaches up to palm the curves of her breasts, enjoying the way the firm weight fills his hands. It’s her first orgasm of the night, but it definitely won’t be the last. Sam knows in his heart they’re being selfish, doing what they’re doing, but they make up for it with as much pleasure as their partner can handle. She slides up and collapses on Sam’s chest to catch her breath for a minute, and Dean moves with her to rest at their sides. Sam tries to focus on her pleasure, stroking up and down her back, but he’s distracted by the press of Dean’s fever-hot, naked body against his side, and how, when Dean reaches over Sam’s and the woman’s heads to grab a swig of beer off the nightstand, his still-hard dick brushes against Sam’s thigh, leaving a tiny smear of pre-come and goosebumps in their wake. Sam studiously avoids looking at him.

Sam was the one who suggested it this time. Just a jerk of his head toward the woman at the bar and Dean had known what he wanted. He’s held off as long as he could after Dean’s death, resurrection and subsequent demonhood, but the need has been building in him for too long. Short of actually climbing inside Dean’s body - and Sam isn’t going to think about that for too long - Sam doesn’t think he can get close enough to reassure himself that Dean is really back. Or that the Mark isn’t going to take him away all over again. So if this is all he can have, he wants it. Needs it.

Miranda/Melinda has recovered enough to start kissing Sam; deep open-mouthed kisses that taste of tequila and strawberry lipgloss. Sam likes the taste, and chases it back into her mouth, tongues tangling and teeth knocking together. He wraps his arms around her, the hairs on his forearm tangling with Dean’s when he brushes up against his brother’s arm as he strokes her back softly.

Finally she sits up, legs to either side of Sam’s hips. Sam’s hands immediately go back to the mounds of her breasts, plucking at her nipples while she slides her wet pussy back and forth over Sam’s hard dick. Dean reaches over Sam to the nightstand again, this time to grab a couple condom packets from the nightstand. He hands one to her, and watches with eyes blown almost demon-black with lust as she tears it open and rolls the condom down the thick length of Sam’s dick. She gives Dean an encouraging nod, and he makes short work of putting the second condom on himself.

Rising up to his knees, Dean maneuvers himself between Sam’s splayed thighs behind the woman, pushing her forward until she’s bent over Sam, nibbling at his already-tender lips. Sam can feel the moment when Dean pushes into her wet pussy, pushing her up higher on his chest, and back, and forth in an a rhythm that’s a pleasure all its own for Sam. On every second or third rock of his hips, Dean’s balls swing forward and brush the head of Sam’s dick and he flushes at the sick rise of pleasure he feels from the touch, pulling away from the woman’s lips and turning his face to the side in a futile attempt to hide it.

He could almost come like this, from the too-light-too-random brushes of her wiry pubic hair and his brother’s balls swinging against the tip of his dick. But soon enough Dean pulls out. There’s a pause and the woman tenses slightly, only relaxing when Dean whispers soothingly in her ear as he pushes forward, entering her ass in slow, smooth increments, aided by the slick of her own prior release and the lubrication on the condom. When he’s fully in, pressed flush against her body,she rises up and grips Sam’s shaft in one hand, holding it straight as she sinks back down, engulfing him in tight, wet heat.

They all groan, a harmony of sensation as the three of them are brought together into a single being as she sinks down until her pelvis is grinding against Sam’s. Dean sets the rhythm then, pulling back, which pulls her pussy further down on Sam’s dick, then pushing forward. Sam can feel the slide of Dean’s dick against his, separated only by a thin wall of flesh. They work in tandem, Dean sliding out as Sam slides in, and it’s a blur of sensation. Miranda/Melinda is moaning, but Sam can’t hear her over the pounding of his heart and the panting of Dean’s breath.

In a sudden rush she’s coming again, her walls clamping down on Sam and Dean’s cocks, pulling them even closer together than they were before. They lose their coordinated rhythm, Sam raising his hips up and Dean pushing his down in their race to the finish. Sam opens his eyes, and Dean is there, over her shoulder, green eyes boring into Sam’s own with naked intensity and need and that’s all Sam wanted, all he needed and he comes with a shout, echoed seconds later by Dean’s own as he empties himself out in a mindless rush of pleasure and love and connection, never breaking eye contact until they're both wrung dry and rational thought begins to seep back into their brains.

They rest. Or sleep, Sam’s not really sure but he stirs when he feels the woman rise. He’s a gentleman, so he forces himself to get up and dispose of the condom while she dresses, wrapping the discarded bedspread around his hips while he gives her a grateful kiss and sees her to the door.

He crawls into the unused bed on the far side of the room, boneless and more at peace than he’s been in months, and pretends to sleep while Dean gets up and goes into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind himself. Sam knows they’re not going to talk about this, but God help him, he’s already thinking about next time.
Tags: fic
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