It started out like a normal hunt: killings, creatures, research, etc. The case took a turn, for the better, however when you were taken away from your comfy books and coffee to join the boys for some field work. Dean had decided that he would go interview the witnesses and stop by the hospital to check on the guy that had been attacked, while you and Sam went to the morgue to check out the victims that hadn’t been fortunate enough to survive.
All three dressed in your FBI uniforms, Dean dropped you and Sam off at the morgue, pulling away in his freshly polished impala. You happily let Sam take the lead and followed him, flashing your forged badge in time with his when he introduced the two of you. The coroner’s assistant led you back, informing you that the lead medical examiner had left early for the day due to a family emergency, and that he was due for lunch in five minutes and therefore wouldn’t be of much help for the next hour. Sam thanked him, and when the man left, he chuckled. “He seems happy.”
You giggled, shrugging, “I guess you can’t be too upbeat working in a place like this.”
“Maybe… Hey would you mind grabbing the file and telling me what tier our vic. is on?”
“Sure.” You pranced over to the file cabinet, heels clicking with every step, and thumbed through the drawer looking for the correct file. You lifted it out and let it fall open, “Wyatt Archer… Number five.” You turned around to see Sam standing at the drawer you had named, and your eyes locked on his hands. You watched him slowly tug on the gloves, trying not to tear them as the largest size was still a bit small for his large hands. Unaware that you had been staring, you were caught off guard when Sam called your name, “Huh?!” Your eyes shot up at his last attempt to get your attention and he laughed.
“You okay? You look like you zoned out a little.”
“No, no, I’m good, I just--I’m good.” You stuttered, trying to play off the fact that you were staring. Straightening your skirt, you tried to calm your arousal as you walked over to stand by Sam.
He opened the door of the mortuary cabinet, pulling out the tier the victim was on and Sam did the exam while you took notes on his findings. He noticed you staring at the victim intently, but then he noticed your eyes moving to follow his gloved hands, and it clicked. A devious smile crept across his face, and he cleared his throat, deciding to test his hypothesis. “Hey, would you mind grabbing me another pair of gloves, I think one of these has a tear and I don’t want it to tear more.”
“Um, yeah… sure.” You swallowed nervously, going to fetch him a new pair of gloves and he watched you from the corner of his eye while he put them on. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and shifted in place, trying desperately to stop the inconvenient throbbing in your nether regions. Sam made sure to pull the gloves on slowly, teasing you with every millimeter of latex that covered his strong, masculine hand.
“I think a certain little girl might have a latex glove kink.” He smirked, pushing the tier back inside the cabinet and stalking towards you. Your mouth opened and closed, unable to find the words to deny his observation. Sam glanced around to make sure no one was watching and slipped a hand up to your throat, gently closing his finger around it. “Do you like this, little girl?”
You didn’t answer and he closed his fingers a little tighter, “Yes.” You squeaked, your voice breathy, prompting his smirk to grow wider, and he brought his other hand to cup your breast, palming it roughly enough to draw a moan from your lips. “Sam, please.” You begged.
He withdrew his fingers from around your throat, his dominant demeanor disappearing, “Better get back to the bunker, Dean will want to know what we found.” The disappointment in your eyes tugged at his heart but he stayed strong. A few minutes later, Dean texted saying he was out front and Sam led you to the impala. You opened the back, passenger door to step in and Sam grabbed your arm, stopping you. “Don’t think I’m done with you, little girl.” He released you and the ride back was one of the most uncomfortable rides of your life. Your pussy was practically aching and your mind raced with filthy thoughts of Sam and everything he could’ve possibly meant by what he’d said.
By eight o’clock that night, you had lost hope of Sam actually doing anything, chalking his words up to mere teasing. You were in your bedroom when Dean knocked, letting you know he was going out and inviting you to go. You politely declined and settled for reading a book in your favorite nightgown, navy blue with thin straps and mesh detailing below the breasts. Around fifteen minutes later, you heard a knock on your door, and set your book down, getting up to check who it was: You knew it wasn’t Castiel, because he would’ve just popped up in your room and you assumed Sam had gone with Dean. You opened the door, not bothering with your gun, and saw Sam standing with his hands behind his back, “What are you doing? I thought you would’ve went out with Dean.” You smiled innocently.
“Told you I wasn’t done, Sweetheart.” He grinned, “So how long has my girl liked gloves?”
“I-- um…” You considered lying, but settled for the truth, “Ever since Gabe put us in that doctor show and I saw you pull on those gloves, and there was just something about it that was really sexy.” You confessed, looking down, away from any possibility of eye contact.
“Well, just think of how much fun we could’ve had if you’d have told me sooner.” He purred, reaching up to take your chin between his gloved fingers and lifting it so he could make eye contact with you. “Be a good girl and open your mouth.” You quickly obeyed, your body running on autopilot as your, once again throbbing, pussy seemed to control your every move. Holding your chin up with his index finger, Sam slipped his thumb into your mouth and you instantly began sucking, looking into his eyes as you did. “Such a good girl for me, didn’t even have to tell you to suck.” He pulled his thumb from your mouth, lightly slapping your cheek. “Are you gonna be a good little slut for me?”
“Yes, Sir.” You moaned.
“Sir? Hmm… I think I like the sound of that.” He wrapped his fingers around your arms, the gloves making a quiet brushing sound against your skin, leading you backwards towards the mattress, and you dropped to your ass when your legs hit the edge of the bed. “You need to tell me right now if you don’t want this.”
“I want it, Sam, please. Want it so bad.” You fell on your back, spreading your legs though your cunt was still shrouded by your nightgown, and he smirked again.
“Keep being a good girl and I’ll let you cum for me, Baby.”
“Yes, Sir.” Sam’s long, thick fingers found their way to the bottom hem of your nightgown, lifting it over your head, and he tisked.
“No underwear… so naughty, Babygirl.” Sam smacked your pussy and you yelped, arching your back and pushing your hips so he could have a better view. “Do you want my fingers inside your little pussy? You’re soaking wet for me already, I don’t even think I’d need lube.”
“Please, Sir. I need you inside me.” He slid his hands down your bare sides, coursing them over the tops of your thighs and knees. The latex felt soft and warm against your skin as he gripped your knees forcing them further apart, before leaning in to sink his fingers into your aching pussy. You gasped at the sudden intrusion and tried to move further down the mattress, pushing his fingers deeper.
“Well, Babygirl… Such a greedy little whore for me aren’t you? You like havin’ my fingers inside you.”
“Sam.” You cried, your pussy clenching around his fingers. “Please, want you to fuck me, Sir, please. I need you.”
“You asked me so nicely, Baby, how could I say no.” You were so consumed by his fingers that you hadn’t noticed Sam had already freed himself from his tight jeans. He switched hands, using the one that had been inside you to lube his cock, and using the other to scissor you open a few times before filling you in one go with his thick length. He forced his cock in and out, fucking you perfectly. “Such a--Fuck-- such a perfect little cunt.” He praised, feeling your walls conform to his thick length like you were made just for him. He brought his other hand to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it once more as he fucked into you harder.
His palm was heavy on your throat and you felt the air-chilled remnants of your arousal on his fingers. “Sam, please.” You rasped, “I’m close.”
“You wanna cum for me, little girl?” He growled.
“Uh uh, what do you say?”
Your mind was blurred by everything that was happening, but by a small shred of sanity, you managed to remember. “Yes, Sir!”
“That’s my good girl.” He thrust into you hard and the tight ball of heat in your lower stomach erupted, your vision going white and your body arching and writhing beneath him. You whimpered, pairing the noise with several other squeaks and happy whimpers, wrapping your fingers around the arm of Sam’s hand that rested against your neck, and holding it loosely. He pulled out, coating your stomach and chest with his hot seed. Panting in time with you, Sam stood back to admire the mess he’d made of you, swiping his finger through his cum and holding it up to your mouth, “Wanna taste, Sweetheart?” You took his finger into your mouth, tasting him and sucking, hollowing your cheeks as you did. “If you feel that good sucking on my finger, I can’t imagine how good you’d feel on my cock”, he mused. Sam withdrew his finger from your mouth and brushed the hair from his face, discarding the gloves and moving away from you.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right back, Babygirl.” He went to your bathroom and grabbed a couple washcloths, wetting them with warm water and using the first to wipe his cum from your body. He wiped your breasts, bending down to gently kiss each one once it was clean, and he continued down, cleaning your stomach and kissing it as well. Sam threw the first cloth into your hamper, using the second to clean away the evidence of your orgasm.
“Thank you for letting me do that, I wasn’t entirely sure you’d want to have sex with me.”
You giggled, letting him wrap you in his arms while he laid beside you, “Who the hell wouldn’t wanna have sex with you, have you seen you? You’re tall, and handsome, and smart, and funny… No girl in their right mind would turn you down. Hell, no dude in their right mind would turn you down.” He chuckled, pulling you closer against his chest to be his little spoon, and kissing your cheek.
“You should get some rest, Dean doesn’t plan on coming home tonight so we don’t have to worry about him barging in on us… Plus.” He tilted your head so he could kiss your lips, “I’m really hoping for a round two later.”
“You aren’t the only one… Sir.” You stole one last kiss, snuggling against the pillow, and Sam pulled the blankets up, tucking you both into the warm bed, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist.