FIC TITLE: Smalltown Stella
Author- PTBvisiongrrl
Part- 4/4
Date- 6/29/16
Rating – M/NC-17
Pairings/Characters- No Wincest—but plenty of other sex and a threesome (Dean/OFC/Sam)
Word Count- 6,124
Genre- PWP
Warnings- If PWP or M/F/M threesome will offend you, click back now.
Spoilers- Not really—Dean is back from Hell, but other than that AU.
Disclaimers- I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…so please don't sue me. If I did own them, there would be a lot more shirtless Winchesters (and angels) getting some on the show!
Summary-
Dean had the girl before. Sam gets the girl this time. The girl wants both boys next time. Not a lot of plot here.
Author's Note- This is a really long chapter—I hadn't planned it that way, but the story took longer to be told. There is no sequel currently being worked on, but I have a couple ideas bouncing around.
Chapter 4Sam is usually a very considerate lover, a gentle giant. He is well aware of his strength and size, and that he could easily, especially with his training, cause damage and hurt. He never, ever really wanted to do that to his partner, even though some had really, really wanted him to. He had felt dirty and more than a little ashamed afterwards, inevitably. Of course, other than Jess—who had NOT been into that type of play—he hadn't known most of his partners well enough (or long enough, thanks to life on the road) to discuss that type of emotion.
Stella brought out a harsher side of his sexual personality, with her ragged breath and stillness, waiting for the Winchesters to use her as they wished. It still unsettled Sam, but confronted with the opportunity, he found he could deal.
Studying Stella restrained and positioned on the bed was like reading a menu. What did he want today? Good for him food (salad), slightly bad for him (steak)…or heart attack on a plate (chicken fried steak with biscuits and sausage gravy and a side of fries)?
Dean watched Sam studying Stella. Dean could see the look in Sam's eye and knew what it would mean if he himself had that look. "You're up next, Sammy. I got to tie her up. What do you want to do with her?"
Whimpering, Stella closed her eyes to consider the possibilities-which earned her a sharp tug on a nipple from Dean and made her shudder. She let her eyes lazily close again to see what the boys would do.
Sam's fingers smoothed their way into her hair, gentle until they weren't, knotting up in the locks and grabbing her attention. "Keep those pretty eyes open, Stella. Want you to see what we are doing, want to see what we're doing to you."
Stella licked her lower lip slower. "Yes, Sam. Eyes open. Maybe if you were actually doing something other than staring at me..."
"Still full of sass," Dean chuckled, standing up from his kneeling position on the bed.
Sam nodded in agreement. "Let's give your mouth something better to do than talk back." Sam knee-walked up to the head of the bed, yanked down the zipper on his jeans, and shoved them down his thighs. He placed one hand on the wall for balance and wrapped the other around the back of Stella's neck, pulling her up to meet his cock.
A self-assured smirk that didn't part her lips and a raised eyebrow challenged Sam's statement wordlessly. Sam met her resistance with a smirk of his own, as he rubbed the head of his cock against her lips, back and forth over the breadth and width of that luscious mouth, leaving a damp path behind. "I know you want to open up for me, Stella. Why fight it?"
Stella's eyes went dark, and her mouth stayed firmly closed. Sam shook his head. "Okay, but there's only so many places nice and slick for me to fuck you…"
Dean smacked her bared pussy, forcing a pleasurable sigh to open Stella's mouth and Sam to drive in. "Don't give her too much control, Sammy. She wanted this, so do what you want." Dean took his own advice, shimmied his own jeans down enough to free himself, wrap it, and slide home without warning or asking permission. Stella was wet and tight around him, tight enough that Dean could tell just how much fun Sammy had last night. "Fuck," Dean stilled a moment once he was fully buried.
Stella moaned around Sam, the reverberations making Sam shudder. "Yeah, Stella. Let me feel how good it is."
The boys took turns pumping into Stella at either end. Sam pulled back, leaving the ridge of his cock dangling from Stella's mouth for a moment before plunging back in, not resting until his head was past the tighter barrier of Stella's throat to pause for a moment. That was the point when Dean slammed home, hard and deep—buried in as deep as he could, head brushing her cervix—and Stella moaned deeply.
Sam cursed, it felt so good, before withdrawing again to rest on her lips. He waited until Dean pumped in and out a few times, then shoved in hard and stayed, before Sam himself fucked Stella's throat five or six times in a row. Dean's answering groan told him that Stella's pussy reacted to this double fucking just as good as her mouth. It was a slow torture for Stella—Sam and Dean got much more friction and physical satisfaction from the configuration than Stella did. Stella got lost in her head, following the slow-building rhythm of Sam and Dean's pleasure, which was just as satisfying for her.
Sam crested first—thick and hot down her throat, which made her come again as well. It was Dean's turn to curse as Stella's muscles contracted hard around him, hard enough that he could not move within her until the orgasm was passed. As Sam slumped against the headboard, shuddering and muscles like liquid, Dean fucked Stella fast and furious. He lasted long enough to drive another orgasm from Stella, who whimpered prettily even as she tensed in pleasure, before letting himself go.
Dean would never say it out loud, but a girl like Stella trusting him like this—to tie her up, to use her, to let him touch her with the threat of danger he posed, even with Sam to protect her from Dean if need be…
There was a part of Dean, a very human part that had been pushed aside in Hell—out of necessity, but still had been a choice to do so—that cried in relief that he could still be something of the man he had been and not a monster carved out of the remnants. He had not hurt Stella more than she asked; he had derived pleasure from it, but not the sick, dark, unsettling pleasure Alistair had taught him in hell. It wasn't about hurting Stella, it was about pain making her feel good. Fucked up, yes, but less fucked up than most.
Hanging his head, Dean withdrew to remove the condom and tie it off. Tossing it to the trashcan that Sam hadn't even noticed, Dean allowed himself to lay beside Stella on the bed and kiss her forehead. "Thank you," was all he could manage at the moment.
Sam mimicked Dean, laying on Stella's other side, but Sam wasn't quite done yet. His long fingers drifting up and down Stella's toned stomach, tracing a path from feminine folds to neck. There were irregular detours to nipples, and lips, and belly button, but nothing urgent yet, just touching. Sam caught Dean's eye over the rise and fall of Stella's breasts. "Round two?" he asked, trying to judge how Dean was doing.
Dean nodded and sat up, turning to face Stella. "Yeah," Dean's voice was deep and gravelly, at least an octave below his normal register. Stella sighed happily and snuggled down into the bed as far as the rope allowed her. "But let's try something different. Ropes are nice, but I'd enjoy hands to be free for a bit. Okay with you, Sammy?"
"Fuck, yeah," Sam answered, watching as Dean unraveled the restraints. Ankles first, laying out Stella's legs straight and then rubbing blood flow back. Sam took over massaging to allow Dean to continue untying. The black rope left beautiful pink welts in the skin on Stella's torso, the pattern pressed into her flesh leaving no doubt how the marks had been acquired. Sam trailed his fingertips further up in Dean's path, legs revived, pressing into the deeper marks and making Stella shudder.
Dean methodically wrapped the rope up in a bundle as he worked, laying it down only to flip Stella over. Stella moaned at the movement, the man handling, and pressed her thighs together only to have them pulled apart by two hands, one per Winchester, and pinned open. "Round two will require this pussy to be wide open, Stella."
Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean, waiting to be let in on the plans. Dean smiled wickedly. "The whole point of this, Sammy. This is what Stella wanted all along."
Sam nodded. "Ass or pussy?"
Stella shuddered beneath them, fantasy in reach. "No offense to either of you...but, um, if we are going to do this, would you please take the back door, Dean?"
Dean laughed, though not meanly. "Sammy too much to take back there, Stella?"
Wincing a little, Stella nodded. "Yeah, I'm afraid he might be."
Sam looked sheepish. "Sorry?"
Stella's eyes rounded. "You do not apologize for packing that much heat, Sam. I just don't want to have to worry about sitting comfortably for the rest of the week."
Grinning like a goof, oddly proud of himself—not that he had any power over the size of the dick he was born with—Sam shrugged. "I get it. And Dean already got that pussy today. I'm taking my turn."
While Dean bent down to kiss Stella, tongue and spit and loud breathing, Sam lowered himself between Stella's thighs, rubbing against her swollen lips and tender sex, growing harder by the second. Stella's hands found their way to both men's cocks, wrapping around them and pumping the Winchesters back to hardness.
As much as she enjoyed this as well, the idea of being filled and surrounded by all that muscled strength and Winchester good lucks made her wet enough to slick up her own thighs. Pulling away from Dean, looking from one to the other brother, Stella rose on her knees and turned her back to Dean. Leaning on her hands, settled onto her knees, she shook her ass at him, calling him to action.
Dean eagerly pulled on another condom, wanting inside Stella as soon as humanly possible. Dean dipped his fingers into her slick, gathering it, and rubbed her moisture against her bud until he felt she was ready for him. One finger quickly became two, and then three after scissoring her looser. Given her murmurs of please, fuck, just do it already, Dean figured she was ready enough by that point and pressed his blunt head into her.
Stella was hot as a furnace around him, smooth muscle engulfing his cock and flexing around his hardness tightly. Dean enjoyed the motions, stilling his own movement to do so. After a few minutes, Stella bucked against him, driving him further in and bringing his hands against her hips to stop her. "Give me a minute, Stel," Dean ground out. "Unless you want to wait to take us both, because, fuck!"
So Stella stilled herself, trembling with the need to be filled. "Dean," she begged, her voice ragged and on the precipice.
"Don't you dare come yet, Stella," Sam interceded, sensing that Dean needed a moment more himself.
Stella met Sam's eyes with tears in them. "I—I can't help it—"
Sam pulled her head up by her hair. "Then that's all you'll get to come today. And Dean and I will go find some other pussy that can take directions better than you."
Even Dean reacted to that tone of voice and those words, so he couldn't blame Stella. But with the clamping down of her ass on his cock, he has to recite the Latin rite in his head to keep from shooting his load then and there at her obedience. Sam looked to Dean, waiting until he could manage to move without coming. Once Dean nods, rocking into her, Sam pulled Stella upright and pressed her against Dean. Dean wrapped his arms around her, spreading her thighs wide and holding her ready for Sam.
Sam, putting on a condom of his own, watched the two of them. Stella was wrecked—her head lay back against Dean's shoulder, eyes half-open and panting, barely reacting to Dean's fingers twisting her nipples and teeth nibbling on her neck. Sam couldn't help but tell her just how beautiful she is, a sentiment quickly seconded by Dean. "The way you look, the way you give yourself to us…Stella, you are amazing. You are so beautiful, and I want you so bad…"
Dean and Sam passed Stella's mouth back and forth for a few minutes while Sam tried to calm himself down enough to last. When he was finally sure he wouldn't come like a teenage virgin the minute he pushed in, Sam grabbed her hips and slid home in one long glide. Snug against her, he signaled for Dean to pump into her. Dean panted, biting his own lip. The thin membrane separating the two Winchesters allowed them to sense the others' movement, so tightly pressed against each other that both men wondered how the hell Stella could take them both at the same time.
Stella was thinking the same thing herself, holding her breath as she adjusted to the size and girth of two very large men stretching her more than she had ever felt stretched (and that was saying something, given her sexual history and adventurous spirit). And then—both men moved in tandem, sliding out and deeply back in at the same time. Stella shattered on them, coming so hard she blacked out, just for a moment, and came to with her head lolling to the movement of both men full-out fucking her with all their strength and lust.
Stella barely had time to recover from the first orgasm when the second washed over her. She couldn't control her body, didn't want to but physically couldn't even if she did want. Stella was lost in the feeling of Sam and Dean working her hard, together. Enjoying this oddly out-of-body feeling (odd in that she feels her body, but it's like it's a foreign object she can't move), Stella can feel her third orgasm creeping up on her. It's that kind of orgasm that she can't help but crave, even as she knows it will finish her for a bit. She is tender and sore and used and turned on and fucked out, all at once and then not, as she can't help another, smaller orgasm. Tears in the extremity of pleasure and the gentle beginnings of pain, Stella found her voice to beg off, to ask Sam and Dean to use her body to chase their own orgasms, to do what they need/want to do to come, she won't break but she needs a break.
"Are you sure?" Dean questioned, working hard but not out of breath yet.
"Fuck, yes," Stella answered. "I need you two to come. Please."
The boys switched position giving Stella both a momentary reprieve and a second to worry about Sam taking her ass before discarding the concern as they simply flip her so that Sam is laying on the bed, driving up into her. Permission given like that apparently hit both boys really good—because they do use her and use her hard. Hands were all over her, pulling and pushing and manipulating. They hit a rhythm, sharing her so well, she comes again, despite her words. Her unexpected orgasm set off Sam, who pulled out after and maneuvered himself free.
Taking advantage of sudden sole possession, Dean rolled Stella onto her stomach and pinned her hard to the bed, one hand on her hip and one holding her down by her neck. Her whimpers, gasps of pleasure...she can't help herself but come again, squirting freely and copiously. Feeling that slickness hit his thighs, coat him, finished Dean, who collapsed on top of Stella for a few long minutes before Sam shoved him off.
"Let her breathe, dude."
Stella needed a break. She's not finished, no, but needs the focus to shift, she decides…onto Dean. "Thanks, Sam," she managed to wheeze out, still catching her breath. "You boys doing okay?" she asked, checking in before turning the tables.
Sam laughed, a deep rumble she feels through his entire body. "Hell, yeah."
Dean seconded that. "Awesome, Stel. Fuck that was good."
Stella managed to get her breathing under control first, and smiled. "That was awesome. Better than I hoped it would be." She rolled over, draping herself over Dean and looking back over her shoulder at Sam. "Which is why I need a little bit of a break."
Sam nodded, as did Dean. Dean got up and ambled toward the bathroom; Sam reached for a sheet to throw over them and wrapped an arm around Stella.
Stella turned around and curled into Sam. "I need a break, but…"
Sam looked at Stella, confusion in his green-gold eyes. "You are a necessary part of that equation, remember?" he asked.
Stella laughed. "I am simply suggesting… Fuck, I get off hard on restraint. Dean is good at it. I just can't conceptualize liking it that much and not being able to do it. I know why Dean couldn't, but…he did here. He feels safe enough. Do you think he'd feel safe enough yet to let me…?"
Sam shook his shaggy head. "I have no idea. But if you want to try it, I can run out and get us some food-"
"No!" Stella said sharply. "I think…Dean feels safe because he has someone here with him that he can trust absolutely. That's you. And it's nothing sexual or skeevy. That trust lets him be him. Quite frankly, if he freaked out and lost himself, you are big enough to make sure no one gets hurt. I know that has to be part of it."
Sam considered her words as he listened to the rush of water into the bathroom sink and knew the conversation had to be wrapped up quickly. "You want me here so you can tie Dean up?"
Stella pouted, knowing she could pull Sam into this. "Yes. You don't have to be involved at all, just here."
That, Sam could do. He could help Stella give Dean that part of himself back. There wasn't a lot that Sam could do to help Dean with all the baggage Dean carried from his forty years in Hell, so if he could do this…yes. Sam could manage it. "Okay," he agreed.
Stella lit up like a Christmas tree. "Thank you," she whispered before kissing Sam deep and long.
Dean walked back in and sat down, watching them. "And here I thought you needed a break, beautiful?"
Sam pulled away first. "She does. I was just keeping her warm until you got back." Sam rose and headed to the bathroom as well, leaving Stella to negotiate her desire with Dean.
Stella rose on her knees, straddling Dean's lap and pulling him into a deep kiss. It didn't go any farther than that, though—not even a little pelvic rocking, Stella was that sore. "Still not detecting a break here, Stella," Dean muttered between kisses.
"My pussy needs a break, Dean—not all of me. I want to try something, but its really not about me." Stella was even with Dean's gaze, arched across his thick thighs as she was.
"I'm almost afraid to ask," Dean stated, leaning against the headboard without breaking Stella's steady gaze.
Licking her lips, Stella stretched her arms above her head, putting on a bit of a show for Dean. Nothing wrong with buttering him up some before she makes her request. "I really liked you tying me up."
Dean chuckled, voice thick with lust. "Oh, I really like it, too, Stella. Its been a long time—and yeah, thanks."
"I want to tie you up." Stella just put it out there, baldly, hoping he wouldn't react too badly.
"Crowley," Dean forced out, keeping his voice as level as possible.
Sam came back to the room just as Dean spoke. "Just Crowley, not Alistair?"
Dean's breathe caught in his throat, and he had trouble remembering to breathe again. "Crowley."
"You used to enjoy being restrained, right?" Sam asked. It felt odd, delving into this naked and in bed—shit, it felt odd talking about this at all, but Sam held on to the fact that there was a naked woman between them.
Dean nodded brusquely. "Yeah."
"Do you miss it?" Stella asked, sympathy obvious.
Dean looked anywhere but at Stella or Sam, eyes rapidly stealing around the room until Stella caught his chin in and her hand and forced Dean to meet her gaze again. She was willing to wait until he answered or invoked Alistair, but she fervently hoped it would be the first.
Her hope was rewarded. "Yeah. I miss it. But it just won't work anymore."
"Why?" Stella pressed, causing Sam's eyes to bug out. The reason would seem to be pretty fucking obvious to Sam. "Flashbacks, or it just doesn't do it for you now?"
Dean met Sam's eyes this time. "Flashbacks. And I do not want anyone to see that. I don't trust myself not to hurt whoever I'm with."
Sam realized how well Stella had read his brother. "I can make sure you and Stella are safe, Dean. I can keep you from hurting her."
Uneven respiration, beginnings of sweat beading up on his temples, and a sudden tremble in his limbs gave Dean away. "Can you?"
"Yes," Sam promised. "I can do this for you, Dean. Let her give this back to you."
A heartbeat of silence, then five. And then, in a low, barely able to be heard tone, Dean answered, "Okay."
Stella's smile is a sultry mile wide. "Thank you, handsome." She kissed Dean hard and deep and distracted him from the sudden tension in his muscles as much as she could. Pulling away, she rose up from the bed and tugged at Dean's hip. "Scoot down a little, on your back."
Sam pulled on boxers and retreated to the chair in the corner of the room. His movement made Dean frown. "Just giving you two some space, but I'm not leaving. I'm just muscle here if needed. Okay?" Sam reassured Dean, who finally gave his silent assent by laying his head back down on the pillow.
After studying Dean splayed out for her, Stella decided to ease Dean into restraint by telling him that he cannot touch while she goes down on him. Stella knows she gives awesome head, and since Dean is a grabber….well, she banked on Dean not being able to keep his hands to himself. After all, that is part of the fun.
As expected, Dean can't help but grab her hair while she bobbed and swallowed him down. At the first tremor of his muscles moving, Stella stops, cold. The whine Dean can't help but let out told Stella that he was distressed—he was greatly enjoying it—but then he pleaded (not up to begging), "Please don't stop. I'll behave, I promise. I won't move. Just don't stop."
Stella smiled, dirty and wicked and happy, and told Dean, "Touch me again, and I'll have Sam help me restrain you."
The statement calms Dean. There is no sexual attraction there, absolutely none—simply trust and hope, and the knowledge that Dean will be safe no matter what. Dean knew that Sam COULD restrain him against his will, and would not hurt him in the process—Sam would do exactly what Stella told him to do, and no more. Dean really liked the possibility of being safely restrained. It had been so long. He liked it enough that he deliberately wrapped his hand into Stella's hair and pulled her up for a kiss, knowing what would happen.
"Oh, Dean. I told you what would happen." Stella was very happy inside. Dean was playing along just as she had hoped. "But you obviously want it to happen, don't you?"
Dean looked panicked, yet not. He wanted this, but he was so very afraid of it at the same time. Not terror, not sheer can't-breathe-can't-run fear. This was the anticipatory fear of getting on a roller coaster, of asking a pretty girl out of his league for her number—the adrenaline of facing an evenly matched opponent so that the outcome wasn't obvious. The hunger for it was there in his posture, his face, his eyes, clear as day. Still, while he acted to bring this on, Dean just can't verbalize it. He wasn't kidding when he said that he couldn't ask for this. So Stella doesn't make him.
"Kneel on the bed, facing the headboard," Stella ordered. The seductive steel in her voice gave Sam chills just listening. "Put your arms behind you, crossed at the wrist." Dean immediately complied, looking beautiful. His back was ramrod straight, his hands just above the swell of his ass. Stella adjusted his stance slightly, widening his knees, before kneeling behind him to press against his back and kiss her way down to bite his ass cheek. Nothing but Dean's obedience kept him in place.
Step one safely accomplished.
When Dean's head dropped down at her attention, Stella wrapped her hands around his wrists tightly, and squeezed. Dean did not react, other than to take in an audibly loud breath, so she continued, hands still wrapped around his wrists. Stella bit her way up Dean's back, ending with a hard, wide mouthed bite at the base of his neck. That bite made him full body shudder and press his eyes hard closed.
Sam watched Dean's face for his reaction, his shoulders for increased tension—worried that there might be a panic attack or freak out. Sam knows what Stella is doing, thinks she's doing it well…Dean is positively responding so far. Not to mention that Sam is pretty good with watching pushy Stella direct things. Sam is not going to lie to himself. He knows he's been conditioned to accept orders, and while he doesn't always want to do it, if Stella's giving them, he is more than willing. Even then, he hesitates slightly when she tells him to take over holding Dean's wrists.
"No lines crossed, here, Sammy. I just need my hands free, and I don't Dean will be able to hold position himself," she reassured them both that she won't cross any lines. Stella needs her hands free, though, and wants Dean immobile. Seeing a chance, Stella offered an option. "Either Sam can do it, Dean, or I can tie your wrists. Which do you want?"
With the choice left to Dean, he has to think for a couple of minutes. Dean's not sure he can handle Sam being that intimate a part of his sexual desires—even if it's not a sexual role—but he also still can't quite say yes to that type of restraint.
"I can handle it, Dean," Sam reassured Dean, when Sam saw Dean was struggling to choose. "Let me help."
And Dean heard the love in Sam's voice, wrapped in anger. Sam still felt guilty for Dean's time in Hell. This is something, not minor to Dean but a simple thing for Sam to do….
Dean, his voice harsh, rough and shaky, agreed. "Yes, please." Closing his eyes, Dean bit his lip, waiting.
Stella twisted Dean's face back for a tender kiss, forcing him to look her in the eyes while she spoke, "Good boy. Let us take care of you. You don't always have to be the big brother in charge, the bad-ass Hunter. Just be…Dean."
The second shudder passing through him was even more violent than the first, Dean's eyes closing against his will. A couple of deep breaths, and both Sam and Stella could see Dean make his muscles relax. "Okay." It was barely a whisper.
Stella shifted Dean around, so that his back was to the headboard now and she was in front of him, pressing gentle kisses all over his face, allowing Sam to take up a position not quite behind Dean, but off to the side a little, and wrap one of his large hands firmly around Dean's wrists. Sam's fingers brushed against the bare skin of Dean's lower back as he grasped; Dean's reaction to his wrists being held tight and immobile distracted Sam from any thoughts about inappropriate touching. Dean was…
Calm. His usual energy skittering beneath his skin, keeping him from sitting still, not moving, was gone. Sam suddenly understood Dean's restlessness since he had been back. If this was something that centered him, took him out of his head, and he had been deprived by his own inability…
Stella spoke into Dean's ear. "Is this okay, Dean? Do you feel okay?"
"Yes," Dean answered.
Stella could hear that he was okay, but she wanted his eyes as well to be sure. "Look at me when you talk. Are you okay with your hands like this?" she demanded.
"Yes," Dean repeated, meeting her eyes with blown pupils.
Stella pushed him further. "Why is this okay? Why couldn't you ask for this?"
Dean's eyes were barely green now, just an edge of forest against black. While Stella wanted Dean to just enjoy the headspace, she also wanted to help him work through his issues. "Answer. I need to hear."
Dean licked his lips, trying to keep eye contact going. "You won't hurt me. I know this is safe with you. But I-" Dean stumbled on his words. "I wasn't the safe one. I get so lost in myself, and I'm afraid I'll come back to myself in Hell again."
"Yes, you are safe. I want you to enjoy this, Dean. We want to give this back to you." Stella leaned her forehead against Dean's. "We are safe. You can just be. You will come back to yourself with us right here."
Stella resumed gentle kisses that turned into bites down Dean's jawline and onto his neck…across his freckled shoulder until she raised her mouth to meet Sam's, over Dean's shoulder. Dean stilled. He doesn't seem troubled by it—just, waiting. Dean knows she will get back to him, and doesn't begrudge Sam's momentary enjoyment of her.
Especially when Stella's body is still pressed against his, naked and soft and curvy.
Stella turned her attention back to Dean, kissing him hard and deep. "Do not move," she repeated. She makes her nipping, biting way down his broad chest, pausing at each nipple to bite and suck and drive a needy moan from Dean before moving on. Tongue laving the ripples of his muscles, nipping at the indents at his hips, she took Dean's straining cock into her mouth. Dean's reaction is to try and find his way deeper into her warm wet mouth, stopped by her quick slap to his thigh and Sam's hands of steel limiting his forward movement.
"Last warning, big boy," Stella pulled off him to state, before diving back in. Stella kept Dean on edge, pulling away and letting his need settle down. Dean was almost there, but not quite; by the fifth time, Dean is begging for her to finish him off.
Stella's rich, satisfied chuckle echoed in the room. "If you can be a good boy, can keep position without moving…and let Sam fuck me from behind while I suck you…I'll finish you off."
And, just as Stella planned, Dean is broken, because he can't do that without help—and Stella knows it. "I can't—Stel, please—don't make me…I need…"
Stella savors a few minutes of Dean pleading before proposing what she wanted all along. "Can we tie your hands, then? Rope? Or handcuffs?"
Dean's mind is a pachinko machine, the need to get off driving all thought. Ropes, he doesn't think he can handle ropes—the flashback will kill any chance of getting off. But handcuffs…Dean agrees to handcuffs.
Reaching into her drawer, Stella hands the cuffs off to Sam. Sam was surprised Dean agreed to this and he can still see that his brother is a bit stressed by the necessity. Sam is fine with being support on this, not touching Stella at all, but Stella…
"Sam!" Stella's sharp tone brought Sam's mind back into focus. "Put them on Dean, now."
Sam found himself obeying without a second thought at her tone. Dean's breath stuttered at the feel of the cold metal against his wrists, but a contented sigh escaped at the click of each wristband locking. Sam waited for more instruction from Stella.
"Dean, I'm going to need you to lift your ass up a little. You can lean against the headboard to support yourself while on your knees," Stella helped Dean adjust to the new position, then went down on her hands and knees in front of him. "Sam, behind me."
Stella reached and wrapped a hand around Sam's length, pumping a few times to get him as hard as she wanted him before handing him another foil packet. "Fuck me slow and deep, no matter what. If I want you to change it up, I'll let you know." Sam nodded his agreement, the condom rolling down his cock before Stella had managed to get herself back into position, mouth on Dean.
"Now I'm going to do this right, with no hands yanking my hair and screwing up my rhythm," Stella stated firmly, licking Dean from base to tip. "You are NOT to move, Dean. Absolutely still. I promise it will be worth it."
Dean nodded, looking only once directly at Sam, uncertainty in his eyes, before giving Stella his full attention. "Eyes open and on me. No closing them. Got it?" Stella continued.
"Yes," Dean managed to gravel out.
Stella took Dean in deep and slow. Her hand massaged what she couldn't cover with her mouth, until she managed to work Dean's length into her throat. Then she held it for a few seconds before sliding back up. "Now, Sam," she directed.
Sam slid into her at the same slow pace Stella had been using on Dean. She was tight on him, responsive to his movements and Dean's muttered curses and praise. Sam couldn't tear his eyes from the sight of her stretched out around him, shiny and slick and so pink. The build-up was pleasurable, but slow…until it wasn't and hit him like a ton of bricks all at once.
"Stella," Sam gasped out.
"Not yet, Sam," Stella pulled off Dean to order him. "Dean first. Are you almost ready, Sweetie?" she asked Dean, studying him.
Dean nodded enthusiastically. "God, yes, please."
So Stella sunk back down on Dean, increasing her pace a little, holding him to a plateau for a bit longer. Sam met her pace again, careful and frustrated. Stella increased; Sam increased. Dean's breath grew louder and more irregular, small moans finding their way in. Stella worked Dean harder, but still not frantic or forceful. Her control was in knowing the boys would follow her lead, and that they did so because she asked them to, not because she could make them do it. If the Winchesters were done playing her games, they could easier turn the tables and she could do nothing about it.
That taste of given control, the restrained strength of Dean beneath her and Sam behind her, had her ready to go over the edge, but she needed Dean to go there first. This was about Dean.
So Stella trailed her hand down to Dean's balls, gentle rubbing and tugging, before reaching further beneath him with her other hand. Sliding against the curve of his ass, avoiding the space between so that there was no mistaking what she was doing, she gripped the chain holding the cuffs as a set and pulled down on it hard, just as she tugged and sucked equally hard.
Dean practically screamed, unable to contain himself. "I'm going to.." was all he got out before Stella pulled again, non-verbal permission to come given. So Dean did, so hard he had to slump against the headboard to stay upright.
Stella, now that Dean had been taken care of, rocked back against Sam and turned to look back at him. "Your turn, Sam," was all it took and Sam was equally wrecked. Feeling Sam drive deep into her and flood the condom with warm release was all it took for her, too, to go over.
It's not exactly afterglow, the lethargy flooding all their systems, but there is a sense of belonging, of rightness. There is something different in Dean now, in his eyes, as the three settle down into the bed for some rest. Case or no, the intense emotions and physical exertion of the past few hours required some shut eye.
With any luck, maybe a repeat show before leaving tomorrow morning. Sam knows they will be stopping to see Stella again on their next case in the area. He looks forward to it.