Warning: Contains soullessness, kinkiness and sexual content. =D
Disclaimer: If I would own Sam Winchester, I certainly wouldn't write about him but rather have him tied to my bedpost. So, obviously, as I'm here and not there, I don't own him. Sigh.
For Samantha and Nic. =)
Reviews much loved! =)
"Try a smile, June," Sam grinned.
"Sam, if I wouldn't crave sex as much as I do, you would be down under already."
"Like you were yesterday?" He arched an eyebrow.
June glared blazingly at him and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "No, Sam, as in six feet under."
"June, always with the death threats."
"You don't seem to mind them all much," June breathed and trailed her fingertip over the collar of Sam's shirt. "You know, I could think of so many more pleasant ways to spend the time than this…"
"Come on, it'll be fun."
June shot Sam a look as if he had found his soul again. "What about sitting on yet another therapist's couch talking about our sex life is fun to you, exactly?"
"The part when I get you all flustered." Sam wrapped an arm around June's waist from behind and slipped his hand underneath her shirt, caressing her belly.
June bit her tongue and had trouble keeping back the suggestion of having a quickie in the elevator. Before she could fall prey to such stupid ideas, though, the doors opened and they stumbled out onto the corridor.
"Can't we just go in, I check if she's a freak and then we gank her on her way home? Why do we have to have a stupid therapy session?"
"Because I enjoy talking about our sex life."
June scoffed. "No, you don't. You're never one for words, least of all when it comes to sex."
"True. I just enjoy seeing you writher with embarrassment about being such an obedient little slut."
"First off: I ain't got a soul, not a working one, anyways, which means I don't know nuisances like embarrassment and decency. Second: I'm not obedient, you're just overly dominating."
"And you never complained."
"I will, right now," June promised and pushed open the door to Elizabeth Johnson's office. "Hey, Sam."
"Yeah."
"What do you think sex group therapy looks like? One big orgy?"
"Is that another attempt to get me to say yes to a threesome?"
"Define threesome. If it were another girl along, I wouldn't even have to bother persuading you, you're all hot for that version, but the second I suggest-"
"No."
"See what I mean?" June complained. "That goes on the list of what we need to talk to the therapist about."
"Mr and Mrs Hudson?"
"We're married, again?" June hissed under her breath. "Why can we never just be a couple?"
"Because it doesn't make the need for sex therapy believable."
June rolled her eyes and smiled sweetly at the attractive forty-something therapist. "Hello, Doctor Johnson."
The lady gestured them into the 'treatment' room; it was decorated in red and cream with the occasional black. Lascivious black and white photographs hung on the wall, and June just thought: 'A little stereotypical. And rather tame.'
"Please, sit down," The therapist said amiably, and Sam and June followed her invitation.
'Red leather. Wow. Creative,' June thought sarcastically as she sat on the couch, wondering whether to sit close to Sam or keep her distance. She'd been so busy with bickering about coming here that she'd forgotten which angle they'd agreed to take; the truth – being that they had unhealthily much sex; or the lie – being that they have too little and unsatisfying sex.
"You two have been married for a year?"
"Feels longer," June remarked dryly. Had there even been a life before Sam? Not that she could remember.
"Well, we don't sleep," Sam said carelessly, but the therapist didn't seem to have heard him.
"Now, first, there are some questions I'd like to ask you to better understand your relationship."
"Sure, shoot away," Sam leaned back on the couch, and June had to fold her hands firmly in her lap as not to jump in his lap and tear the clothes of his body. Rake her nails over his flawless chest, down to his…
"How old are you?"
"29."
"18." June didn't bother adding that she'd turn 19 next month.
Elizabeth Johnson nearly choked on the air she was breathing. "Oh, err, that's very young."
"That's one of her few assets." Sam smiled innocently.
June forced a smile and painfully clawed her right hand into Sam's inner thigh. "I'm very mature for my age, unlike my husband."
The therapist forced herself to move on from the age issue, but she just couldn't. Eighteen was just too young for comfort. However, she could hardly tell this girl that she'd married way too early and also probably didn't stand a chance against her older husband.
'Well, let's see what else there is,' Elizabeth thought and continued with her routine questions: "How often do you have sex a week?"
June sighed and thought if she already was doomed to sit this through, she wouldn't let Sam have his fun just like that. The more she said, the less he could say. "Sam's gone couple of days a week, so that would leave, on average, maybe eight times?"
"Well, she's been in an exceptionally good mood lately, so more like nine times."
The doctor didn't catch June elbowing Sam hard between the ribs. She was too shocked as to that number. "So you're saying you're having sex about twice a day?"
"I think our record was five or six, but yeah, that sounds about right."
"Five…six…" Elizabeth shook her head. These two apparently didn't need sex therapy, they needed sex addiction therapy. "How would you describe the character of your sexual relationship?"
"Active," June replied matter-of-factly. "Kinky, wild, untamed, animalistic at times and utterly devoid of any loving feelings."
"You forgot lusty, hungry and uncontrolled."
June smiled sweetly. "Aww, thanks for reminding me, honey."
"Anything for you, cherry pie."
"And why have you chosen to seek therapy?" The therapist asked carefully. She was almost afraid of the answer.
June grinned devilishly and replied before Sam could: "It's not satisfying anymore."
Sam wondered if he'd get away with double homicide; kill June, and then get rid of the witness. "You surely didn't sound unsatisfied half an hour ago." Sam turned to Elizabeth. "She was moaning like a pornstar when we fucked in the car just before we came here. And she wasn't faking."
June cursed herself for not having a gun on her.
Elizabeth cursed herself for her choice of occupation.
"Well, sweetheart," June hissed, "Physical satisfaction isn't everything, despite the fact that you think it is." She turned to the therapist. "How many of the couples you treat have married because of love?"
"Don't even try the 'unloved wife' act, June." Sam interrupted. "We married because of physical attraction-"
"You mean to say you just married me for sex."
"There's nothing else about you worth marrying you for."
Elizabeth Johnson pressed a hand to her heart and forced herself to stop this avalanche before she'd get buried underneath it. "Mr and Mrs Hudson…I get the impression that your relationship is based on sex."
"Yeah," Sam and June replied in unison.
"Surely there's something else?" Emotional business wasn't technically part of her field of expertise, but for the sake of her peace of mind, she had to know these two had something more connecting them… something that would hold them together once their lust ceased. If it ever ceased.
"Not really," June replied, unimpressed by the woman's discomfort. "You want to add anything, sugarkins?"
"Absolutely not."
Elizabeth took a deep breath. "Okay. Now, if it wasn't dissatisfaction, what made you seek therapy?"
"He enjoys talking about our sex life," June smiled sickeningly sweetly. "Gets his kicks out of it. To my defence I can say that his perverted streaks didn't show until after we were married."
"But she's more than glad to play along. In fact, it was her who begged me-"
"I didn't beg, damnit!"
"It's rude to interrupt, dearest," Sam grinned and let his hand travel up her inner thigh. June cursed the hot weather outside that made her wear a denim miniskirt today; feeling Sam's hand on her sensitive naked skin was tugging at her self-control.
"Either way, she begged me to deflower her the same night her brother died, and I'm not quite updated on moral terms, but doesn't that strike you as slightly morbidly perverted?"
"He abused my emotional distress. He even insisted on a second round-"
"To which you weren't disinclined. In fact, I do recall you being more than enthusiastic, if your moans were any indication."
Elizabeth wondered whether she could just pass out and be spared all this. No such luck, though, so she decided to interrupt the 'wrong images' conjuring talk and said: "Since you two seem to have sex regularly, what do you do to keep the…sparkle?"
June snorted; sparkle, that was cute. "If we're talking on the grounds of metaphors now, we should use wildfire instead of sparkle. You know, since a wildfire is destructive, unforgiving and hot."
"And burns a lot longer." Sam added and squeezed June's thigh. She bit her lip and tried to think of anything but him; cute puppies, maybe. Or any other buzzkill.
The problem was that Sam really was the only thing she could think about.
"That's debatable." June countered sharply.
"From your multiple orgasms just last night, I'd daresay it's not debatable but a proven fact."
The therapist closed her eyes and tried not imagining the ferocious, animalistic sex these two emotionally seriously damaged people had with each other. If their physical relationship was anything like their psychical one, they'd be in shreds. In fact, it seemed damn likely that this verbally tearing each other apart was just the foreplay for the physical tearing apart.
"I've got a question, doc," June said matter-of-factly, as if she were asking a person on the street for his opinion.
"Yes?" Elizabeth asked weakly. Why couldn't she just have gotten another couple who hadn't had sex in months and needed inspiration for a little more 'sparkle'?
"If I want to have a threesome with another guy in, does that automatically mean I then have to have a threesome with a girl, too? That whole equality crap doesn't apply for that, right?"
"Said equality crap you're complaining about, June, is exactly what you're threatening me with should we have a threesome with another girl. Take a side and stick with it."
"Sugar, you know I ain't sticking to principles out of principle."
'Heaven help me, how long can 60 minutes be?' Elizabeth looked heavenwards for any kind of assistance. Naturally, as a sex therapist, she had no problem talking about it, but talking about it with this dominating Alpha male and a doubtlessly perfidious Alpha female… that was just too much. She normally advises couple who love or have at one point loved each other; but these two were in an utterly loveless relationship that solely, it seemed, revolved around sexual satisfaction.
"Why would you want to bring in a third party?" Elizabeth asked neutrally.
"Well, basically, the only reason is because we haven't tried it yet. And we're running out of the things we haven't done yet…"
"Actually, I think a threesome is the last thing on that list."
"We'd have long since ticked it off if you weren't such a bitch about having another guy along." June snapped.
"If you weren't such a jealous control freak seeking her own satisfaction more than anything else, we'd have long since brought in another girl and ticked threesome off the list."
"Baby, I ain't jealous and certainly not a control freak, as you, of all people, should know. And I'm only out to my own satisfaction, yeah? I recall quite a few times when all I was on about was you. So really, the selfish half of us two would be you." June decisively turned her head to look at the therapist. "Back to the original question."
"Oh, of course. Yes. Well, there is no wrong or right about the third party of a ménage a troix. It's something you have to carry out between the two of you. And sex isn't about returning favours, either, it's about enjoying it together as a couple. If either of you feels uncomfortable with having another person of the same gender in bed, then you should refrain from it."
June frowned; a side-glance at Sam told her he didn't quite get the message behind that, either.
"So… you're saying that we would have to do both versions so that each one of us once gets his will and once is extremely miserable?"
Elizabeth looked at the young girl and wondered what the hell had gone wrong in her upbringing. How damaged could a person be and still find a counterpart who was at least as bad? "Err… no, Mrs Hudson, that wasn't what I was implying."
"Oh, great, then we'll just do it my way," June beamed.
"Forget it, princess."
June leaned against Sam and breathed against his jaw, lightly brushing it with her lips: "What if I promise you you'll get to do that position to me you've been dying to try?"
"Tempting, but no. I'll get you to do that, anyways."
"Don't be too sure, hot shot. I don't quite agree with the obedience and submission it implies…"
'Okay, definitely skittering over to scarring images,' Elizabeth resolutely said up and said: "I've got to admit I'm worried about asking this, but it's routine…"
"Do we bring in toys? No," June said before Elizabeth could go on. That had indeed been her question she meant to ask, and she was glad she didn't have to actually voice it. "Unless, of course, cuffs and ropes count."
Elizabeth would rather not imagine what kind of bondage games these two were playing. Sadly, the husband wouldn't grant her that peace of mind. "You know how she claimed me to be the perverted one? She was the one insisting on bondages."
"Because tying you down is the only way you would ever let me be on top!"
"Princess, you like it that way."
"If I would, you really think I'd have cuffed you to keep you down for once?"
"Once?" Sam cocked an eyebrow and let his hand wander further up June's bare thigh, pushing up the skirt. "You do it on a weekly basis."
"If you don't watch it, honey, I'll bring in the whip next." June threatened in a husky voice and her self-restraint breaking down under the heat of Sam's gaze.
"Oh, bring it on, babe."
That's when Elizabeth Johnson passed out in self-defense.
"I hope you're getting your kicks out of an unconscious sex therapist," June remarked dryly as she already jumped into Sam's lap, violently ripping open his shirt and clawing her nails down his chest like the wildcat she was.
"You seem to do so," He smirked and fiercely pushed her skirt all the way up as June straddled him.
"No need trying to hide you do, too," June smiled wickedly and slipped her hand into Sam's jeans. "Kind of hard to ignore."
"Resorting to puns; how unoriginal."
"Accusing me of unoriginality; how unoriginal," June rested her hands on the backrest of the couch, caging Sam in. "I call topside."
"I wonder if said unconscious therapist has a cure for women who talk too damn much instead of getting down to business already."
"Oh, baby, I'll be getting down alright," June breathed and fiercely tugged his jeans and boxers down. Completing an acrobatic masterpiece worthy of the Cirque de Soleil, June got rid of her thong without leaving Sam's lap. "There, you finally have your threesome," June glowered with a nod over her shoulder.
"That doesn't count."
"You never specified the second girl had to be conscious."
"Would you shut the hell up and get to it already?"
"You know, a little more foreplay wouldn't hurt you."
"No, but it might hurt you."
"I'm all up to SM." June breathed.
"I'll take you up on that later," Sam growled, grabbed her hips and pushed her down on him. June threw her head back from the pleasant feel of him deep inside her, a moan slipping from her lips. It was like getting a long-overdue fix.
June moved expertly, bucking her hips forwards, up and down in an ever-increasing pace. She felt Sam's grip digging painfully into her hips and his hungry kisses on her neck, her lips, everywhere.
"Saaaaam, oh, yes…"
Feeling her orgasm approach, June clawed her hands into his back in the attempt of finding support against the viciousness of Sam's thrusting into her meeting her pumping up and down on him.
Sam bit down on the sensitive skin of her cleavage just as June threw her head back in total bliss. She scratched his chest, leaving long red streaks, and moaned out her climax.
Elizabeth chose this untimely moment to wake from her unconsciousness, just to see the devouring hunger in Sam's eyes as he buried himself deep in his wife. His dangerous hazel eyes fell on her, and lifting one eyebrow almost mockingly: "Want to join in?"
Elizabeth wondered whether to faint again or take this opportunity of being awake to get the hell out of the room.
June pressed her hand to Sam's cheek, with a ferocity nearly touching on a slap, and turned his head back to her. "Ground rule, Sam, don't sleep with the therapist."
"Since when do we stick to rules?"
"Since I made them up," June crushed her lips on Sam's and her hands wandered down his scratched up chest to his well-defined abs. "Now, sweetheart, what if I offered you to get out of here and pick up some pretty girl at the bar up for a threesome?"
Sam buried his hand in June's hair, roughly pulled her to him and claimed her lips demandingly. "What changed your mind?"
"I feel like chipping away a little more of my morality. It gets in the way of so much fun stuff."
"Wicked minx." Sam grabbed her ass and hoisted her further up on his lap.
"Oh, dirty talk, you know that gets me all hot for more." June breathed, "One rule, though. You don't actually fuck her. She's an accessory and nothing more."
"Fine." Sam growled. "You know how it turns me on when you're all demanding and territorial."
"You think we've got enough time of our therapy session left for another round?"
That's when Elizabeth knew her only chance was flight. She stumbled out and stormed to the phone to make an appointment with a psychiatrist specialized in treatment of traumas.
She had just hung up when Jenny, her secretary, came in. "Elizabeth, is everything okay?"
"I…they…" She stuttered, helplessly gesturing over to the therapy room.
Jenny frowned, but then distinctive sounds came through the door and her jaw dropped. "They're not-"
Elizabeth nodded.
"How…?"
"Don't ask, Jenny. I swear… they've got the devil in them."
"Well, I bet the wife does."
On the other side of the room, June pulled her clothes back to order again. "Oh, and by the way, the secretary is the succubus we're looking for. So we might not want to invite her to join us tonight."
"Well," Sam trailed a hand down June's spine, pulling her close and his lips hovering millimetres from hers. "I suggest we quickly get rid of her and go hunting for a pretty accessory."
"You're unbounded, insatiable-"
"Very true, June. Just like your soul is as destroyed as your looks are spotless."
"Mhm," June lightly bit Sam's lower lip. "Maybe Oscar Wilde was more right with his 'Dorian Gray' than he ever knew… so, if you don't mind, I want to get out of here." June kissed her way up to Sam's ear. "I'm just dying to hack my soul to even smaller bits. Unless you want to leave the sexual privileges that may bring to someone else, you better come with me."
"Wouldn't dream of leaving your side, especially with such intriguing and highly satisfactory prospects ahead."
"Of course you wouldn't. We don't dream, Sam." June trailed her fingertips down his jaw. "So we better make our lives feel like one." She leaned forward and kissed him. "It's not like we're bound by anyone or anything. We can do everything we want, when and how we want. That's even better than dreaming. The world's ours, Sam. We just need to take it."