It's not like their sex life is ever boring, but man, whenever Sam gets this look in her eye, Dean drops whatever he's doing and finds them a semi-private flat surface as quick as he can. This time, he finishes his beer in one long gulp and drags her back to the motel room, grateful that for once, the bar is right next door. She laughs into his mouth as they kiss, and shoves his shirt off his shoulders while he walks her back to the bed.
"What?" he asks when she pulls away to watch him strip out of his jeans and boots. He's always enjoyed showing off for her, and it seems to turn her on as much as it makes her laugh, so it's a double win as far as he's concerned.
By the time he's done, she's wearing a tank top and a lacy pink satin thong he hasn't seen before; they're not her usual style. She says they ride up her ass and it's uncomfortable when she's wearing jeans. He's had more than one good run of jokes at her expense about that.
"Can we try something?" she says, dipping her head and looking up at him through the fringe of her bangs. She hasn't been shy about sex for years, so it's just another way to tease him, one they both enjoy.
"Whatever you want," he answers. It's not like he's ever been good at saying no to her.
She hooks her fingers into the waistband of the panties and pushes them down her legs, and then dangles them from one long finger. "Put them on."
He blinks, trying to remember if he ever told her about Rhonda Hurley, or if this is just something chicks dig in general and she's finally decided to get in on it. He doesn't think she's joking, but sometimes, he can't tell. He scratches his belly in confusion. "Um."
She raises an eyebrow and holds them out to him. "I bought them for you," she says.
Which shouldn't be a surprise, because Sam is a planner--always has been. He takes the tiny scrap of satin and lace from her and crumples it in his fist. "I don't think they're gonna fit."
"You'd be surprised," she says, folding her arms over her chest and cocking her head. She gives him the lopsided grin that only he ever puts on her face, and he huffs a big fake sigh.
"Fine." He puts them on carefully, the elastic cutting into the skin of his thighs and hips as he pulls them up. The crotch is soaked, the satin wet and slick as it strains across his balls and his half-hard cock. The thong won't settle properly and he finally understands what she's complaining about. Still, there's something secretly thrilling about it that he can't put his finger on.
And all of that goes out of his head when Sam gets down on her knees in front of him and mouths at him through the wet satin. "They're wet 'cause I was thinking of you," she says, "of this." His dick goes from half-hard to fully erect, and he plucks at the panties, trying to get more comfortable. Sam slaps his hand away. "Let me," she says, licking up the hard line of his dick through the wet satin. The sight of it is way hotter than it ought to be, and his hips give a small involuntary jerk. She laughs, burying her face in the crease where his thigh joins his body, nose dragging through his pubes along the elastic, followed by her tongue. She licks at the head of his dick, swirls her tongue along the slit, gazing up at him through her lashes.
"Sam." His voice sounds strangled, locked up tight like his dick in Sam's mouth as she sucks the head. He twines a hand in her hair, pulls tight, and her laugh vibrates through him. She pushes the panties down far enough to take most of him into her mouth, cheeks hollowing out as she sucks him, brief scrape of teeth on the upstroke that makes him shiver.
He lets out a low, rough moan and starts fucking her face, heat and pleasure spiraling high and tight up his spine. She answers with a choked growl of her own and takes it. He forces his eyes open so he can watch his dick slide in and out of her mouth, stretched red and tight around him. She's got one hand wrapped around the base, and the other is down between her legs, and the fact that she's getting off on it as much as he is pushes him over the edge. Pleasure uncoils in his belly and he comes thrusting into her mouth. She swallows it down and licks her swollen lips when she's done.
He goes to his knees hard (he'll have rug burn on them later), ignoring the ripping sound as the panties tear, and kisses her, tangles his fingers with hers to bring her off. She grinds down, fucking herself on their twined fingers, and comes with a surprised shriek he muffles with his kiss. He brings their hands up so he can lick their fingers clean and they kiss and lick around the salt-slick skin. She bites at his lips and he bites back, thrusts his tongue into her mouth and kisses her until she sighs and slumps against him in contentment.
"That was good, yeah?" she murmurs against his neck.
He huffs a soft laugh that stirs her hair to tickle his nose. "Yeah," he says. He shucks the ruined remains of the panties and lifts her up into his arms. He puts her in bed and climbs in next to her. "We'll have to do it again."
The smile on her face is answer enough.