First! I'm doing this:
because I'm insane. Wish me luck! And watch the comm for lots of hot porn lo these next seven weeks.
Second! Uh, porn.
Dean/OFC, 2,100 words, NC-17 like whoa (I feel kind of dirty right now, heh). Warning for light bondage, because young!Dean getting talked into kinky stuff makes me happy. Title from The New Pornographers.
"What do you like?" Dean asks when they're tucked into her bed, the bottom half of what he's guessing is a pretty typical dorm bunk.
It's a standard question, and he knows all the standard answers. Silent blushing, or "anything you want," or "lick/finger/fuck me" if she's the assertive type. Once he even had a girl who just wanted to blow him while she touched herself, which was awesome. But he's never had a girl light up like this one does, like he's about to make all her dreams come true. Maybe it's a college thing. He's got to hook up with sorority girls more often.
She rolls over without answering, rifles through the drawer next to her bed, and he frowns. He's got nothing against sex toys - whatever it takes - but he likes to at least try with his own hands first.
She doesn't pick out the vibrator he's expecting though. The thing in her hands is blue and fuzzy and- a pair of furry handcuffs.
"Can I?" she asks, all soft and breathy, and Dean wavers. She's a tipsy co-ed, not a kitten-killing crazy, but bondage is a little outside his comfort zone.
"I don't know, sweetheart." He reaches under her skirt, traces the scalloped edge of her underwear. "Be a shame if I couldn't get my hands on you, don't you think?"
"Uh-uh," she says, shifting so his fingers find the hot spot between her thighs and- Holy shit. She's wet already, slippery even through her underwear and he's barely touched her. "Wanna tie you up. Thinking about it all night."
She clearly has, so hot for it she's riding his fingers, rubbing her swollen little clit all over them. "Jesus," he mutters. Then, "Christo."
This is a bad idea. This is beyond a bad idea, and Dad would kick his ass so hard if he knew, but-
"I'm on the pill," she says, making it sound every bit the dirty promise that it is.
"Fuck." He curls his fingers into her, feels them stopped short by the sodden panties that are the only thing between him and the lay of his life. Well, that and a set of cuffs he could pick in twenty seconds flat. "Yeah, okay."
She grins at him, face all flushed, and pushes his hands away. "Get undressed."
He shucks his shirt and jeans, feels that familiar trill of pride when her eyes linger on his stomach. Yeah, he can do this.
"Lay down," she says, pushing at his shoulders and straddling his waist when he leans back on her pillows. She pulls them out from under his head, leaving him flat against the mattress.
"You gonna lose the clothes?" he asks. She's all covered up, high-necked t-shirt and skirt falling over her thighs, and he wants to see some skin. Touch it, too, but if that's not in the cards he at least wants to appreciate the view.
"Maybe," she says, drawing the word out as she positions his hands over his head. "In a minute."
She's warm all over, smells like cheap beer and tequila limes and girl, and he doesn't even want to fight her as she threads the cuffs around a slat in the headboard and clicks them closed around his wrists.
"Okay?" she asks as she sits back. She's biting her lip and looking a little nervous, like maybe she's never done this before, and his last bit of uneasy tension drains away.
He tugs on the cuffs; with the fur, they're not going to cut into his skin, and he's pretty sure he can just break the chain or the slat if he has to. Plus, succubi flinch at the name of God. "Yeah," he says with an easy smile, "I'm good." And he is. There's a hot, soon-to-be-naked girl on top of him. He's awesome.
She grins and leans forward to give him a quick peck on the lips, but sits back before he can turn it into a real kiss.
"Aw, come on," he says. "You're not gonna be a tease, are you?"
She tilts her head, and even though he can tell she's only pretending to consider it, his stomach clenches tight.
"Nah," she says at last. "Don't want to wait." She crawls down his body, pulling down his boxers as she goes, and looks oddly relieved to see his cock standing hard and straight.
"My ex thought I was weird," she says when he raises an eyebrow. "He let me, but he didn't like it. He-" She cuts herself off. "Nevermind. Sorry."
"You're not weird," he says. And if she is, it's a good weird. "Look, whatever you want, okay? I'm not going anywhere."
It's not really funny, but she laughs anyway. "Whatever I want?" she says, hesitant.
"Long as there's no blood," he amends.
She laughs again. "No blood," she agrees. "Can I just-" She crawls back up his body until she's straddling his hips, her skirt pooling on his stomach and hiding his cock from view.
His hands tighten into fists; any other time he'd be touching her, kissing her, reassuring her. Right now, he feels kind of useless. "Go for it," he says. He can do that much.
She flashes him a grateful smile then lowers herself so she's almost sitting on him, trapping his dick between his stomach and her still-wet panties. She squirms, lip between her teeth as she searches for the perfect position, and when she finds whatever she's looking for, she gasps.
"Feel good?" he says, feeling a little stupid. He likes talking, likes getting feedback, but it's not like he's done anything worthy of praise.
"Uh huh," she says with a moan, and he feels kind of proud anyway. She starts to move, rocking up and down the length of his cock, and that- feels really good, actually. Like when a girl licks him wet before taking him into her mouth.
"Good," he says, watching her as she rolls her hips slow and careful. "That's real good, sweetheart."
She makes a little noise of agreement, lips parting and eyes drifting closed. She lifts her hands over her head, grabs hold of the top bunk's frame, and starts grinding against him in earnest.
"Fuck." That's exactly what he wants, slick friction and pressure, but not quite where he wants it - she's sliding up and down his shaft, barely brushing the head, and it's driving him nuts. "Will you-"
"Wait," she says, all blissed-out and dreamy, and he swallows. She's obviously close, really close, and he wants to get her there - touch her, lick her, whatever she needs. But she doesn't seem to need him to do anything but lie still and let her use him as a humping stick.
"Yeah," she says, and he's pretty sure she's not even talking to him. "Yeah, God." She reaches for the hem of her t-shirt, pulls it over her head, and drops it to the floor. Her bra, a little white thing that probably matches her underwear, goes next, and she's naked from the waist up.
"Nice," he says under his breath. Her tits are tiny, nipples pebbled hard, and he wants nothing more than to get his hands on them, watch them disappear under his palms. He reaches out on instinct but the cuffs stop him before he can get anywhere, chain rattling against the headboard. "Oh, come on."
She lets out a laugh, barely more than a breath, and then seizes up, body going taut as she pushes down hard against him and stays there.
Arousal and disappointment shoot through him as she comes, pressed so close he can almost feel her clench tight around him. God, he wants to be in there, wants to get off on this too - but she doesn't seem too concerned about what he wants. In fact, that seems to be part of the appeal.
She relaxes at last, sighing happily as she sits back on her heels. She's not even touching his dick anymore, and he's about to demand she just let him go when she smiles at him, sweet and shy, and he doesn't think she's going to make him wait any longer.
Sure enough, she climbs off him, stands up straight and starts fumbling with the zipper on her skirt. It falls to the floor, followed quickly by her underwear, and then she's on top of him again, legs spread open and inviting.
Come on, he thinks when he lifts his hips only to find her just out of reach. He remembers every girl he's ever licked until they begged him to fuck them, and hopes that isn't what she wants.
She doesn't make him do that though, just braces herself against the top bunk with one hand while the other guides his dick inside her, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from coming in the first six seconds. He's never gone without a condom before, should not be going without one now, but it's hard to regret when she's so fucking unbelievably smooth and hot and perfect around him.
"Holy shit," he says, because there's nothing else to say, and she laughs, bright and happy. And then she moves, starts fucking herself on his cock, and Jesus Christ this was the best idea ever.
"You have to-" he starts, then falters. Usually when he's too close too soon he lets the girl get on top because it takes him longer to come, but she's already there and he's still about to embarrass himself. "I'm close," he admits.
"'Kay," she says, like she's not bothered in the least. She adjusts her thrusts so they're more back-and-forth, less up-and-down, brings her free hand to her clit and- fuck. She's rubbing her fingers in practiced little circles and squeezing around him every time she gets it just right and it is not helping.
"What can I do?" he asks, tensing his muscles to try and hold off.
"Say-" she says, fingers stuttering for a second before finding their rhythm again, "say please."
His hands curl into fists, but he resists the flashing urge to fight. "Please what?"
She licks her lips, fingers swirling faster. "Just say it," she says, and it sounds like she's the one begging.
"Please," he says at once. "Come on, please."
She doesn't respond, just picks up her pace, fucking forward into her fingers and back onto his cock and just when he can't wait any longer he feels her pussy clamp down around him. He comes, back arching off the bed and arms pulling on the cuffs and whatever bruises he gets are going to be so worth it.
For long seconds after, there's nothing but the sounds of their heavy breathing, and then she's laughing and rolling off him and collapsing to the bed.
"That was great," she says. "Thanks."
"Yeah," he agrees, though he's ready to get up. Like she can read his mind, she grabs the keys from the dresser and has the cuffs off quick enough he's sure she's practiced the move.
She tosses the cuffs back in their drawer and curls up against him, kissing his shoulder and making contented little noises. He's not really big on cuddling and if he's not back soon Dad's going to kill him, but he's still coming back to himself and besides, he hasn't gotten to touch her yet. So he wraps an arm around her, holding her close and brushing his hands over her bare skin until the feeling returns to his fingers.
Her breathing evens out - if she's not sleeping, she will be soon. He slides out from under her, trying not to wake her up on his way out.
He doesn't quite succeed. Just as he's rising from her little bed she lifts her head, yawning and blinking at him. "You're leaving?"
"Yeah," he says, a little guiltily. He can't find his shorts, so he just pulls on his jeans.
"Mkay," she says, moving to the center of the bed and wrapping the blanket around herself. She smiles at him. "Thank you."
"Uh, you're welcome?" He has never had a girl thank him for sneaking out after sex before. He really does need to spend more time on campuses.
She mumbles something else, but she's pretty much back to sleep already, so he puts on his shirt and jacket and leaves, flicking off the light as he goes.
He pauses outside her door, takes note of the sparkly-red nameplates. He's going to have to remember this one.