Prompt: Dean and Sam pick up a stray dog from a hunt, intending to bring it to the shelter the next day. In the morning Sam leaves to go get breakfast or find a lead for a new hunt, whatever is fine with me. After Dean's morning shower, Dean leaves the bathroom completely naked to get clothes from his duffel bag. When he drops his underwear and bends over to pick them up all of a sudden the dog is there rimming him because it liked the taste of the soap Dean used. Dean is shocked and grossed out as first, pushing the big dog away, but then he realizes his dick is semi hard. Long story short Dean ends up letting the dog rim him (because he hasn't gotten any pussy in a while), holding his ass cheeks open, until he comes.
(Really just looking for a bestiality rimming fic! With the main focus of Dean being turned on AND grossed out by having his hole licked by an animal. And also turned on at the fact that this dog is devouring his hairy hole with no mercy.) (requester: spnlover)
Sam looked over at his brother. "What?"
Dean pointed at the corner, where a shaking dog was huddle with its ears back. "Guess this psychopath was keeping a dog."
"He didn't mean to summon a vengeful spirit, Dean, he just wanted to talk to his wife."
"Did you see that book he was reading from?" Dean replied. "There was no English in there. He wanted to do some damage!"
Sam knelt next to the dog and extended his hand to the dog for it to sniff. "We wrote the book on avenging loved ones, Dean. I don't think that we can get high and mighty about some guy trying to get back at that drunk driver. He did kill his wife."
"You're too sympathetic, Sam." Dean tested his arm. Injured, but not broken. "I just want to get back to the hotel room and take a shower."
"Okay, deal." Sam scooped the dog up in his arms and Dean stopped in his tracks. "I'm sorry, we have a dog now? No dogs in the car, Sammy! That's the rule! I try not to make too many rules but-,"
"Oh, shove it, Dean." Sam walked past him. "I'll take him to a shelter tomorrow, okay? But we can't leave a helpless animal in a house that looks like it's going to collapse."
Dean looked into the sad eyes of the dog and groaned. He was too sore to fight Sam on this tonight. "Tomorrow you take him to a shelter."
Dean woke up the next day feeling even more sore. That stupid bitch of a dead ghost flung him into all kinds of walls and he was feeling the effects today. "Sammy!"
"Go get breakfast."
"I'm not your bitch."
"You made us take a dog in the car, Sam." Dean rolled over to face him. "And my body is sore everywhere."
"You really just complain about everything, don't you?"
"Take the dog, too."
"I can't, he doesn't have a collaror a leash. If I take him to a shelter I have to use the car."
"Ugh, fine. Leave the dog. You can carry him to the shelter later."
Sam grumbled something about whiny little brats as he grabbed his coat and walked out the door. If Sam hadn't gotten his stupid girly hair all over the bathroom, Dean was going to take a nice, long shower.
It felt good to have hot water on his back and he already felt better. Honestly, he felt like he deserved more than a crappy motel room as thanks for bailing on that stupid man who just couldn't let dead people stay dead.
Okay, maybe that was a bit of a hypocritical thought.
Sam still wasn't back when Dean got out of the shower -- seriously, what was taking him so long -- so it meant that Dean got to lie naked on the bed for a little bit. The quality of the sheets was about what could be expected from this style of motel, but being able to just lay au natural was great even on scratchy sheets. He loved Sam more than life but sometimes a man needs to be able to lie naked on a bed.
But Sam was going to be back any minute -- hopefully -- so Dean couldn't stay naked forever. He pulled himself over to the duffle bag to grab clothes out of, but his fingers were still sore from having a brick dropped on them and his underwear slipped out of his hands. "Just fucking kill me."
He bent over to pick them up, and didn't bother straightening up before slipping them on. He didn't have more than one leg on before he felt something cold and wet on his ass. He meant to bolt up but his leg got tangled in the briefs and he fell to his knees. The sensation was immediately back; a long, wet, tongue -- dog tongue, Dean realized.
The moral, socially right thing to do would be to immediately get to his feet and put on pants and pretend it never happened. But for some reason he stayed frozen on all fours and felt the rough scratch of the dog's tongue again. Dean felt blood start to rush south. Fuck. He couldn't be getting off on it. Liking Rhonda Hurley's panties was one kind of kinky but this… this wasn't good. This was wrong and twisted and then oh godthe tongue's dog was actually in Dean's ass and he couldn't think of anything else. It was torture of the best variety.
Sam could walk in at any moment. He would walk in and he would come face to face with Dean, down on all fours with his underwear around his ankles and a dog tongue in his ass. It was horrifying but somehow made Dean's dick start to harden even more.
Dean was not unfamiliar to rimming. He's not picky about sex, he loves a firm dick as much as he likes soft breasts. And while Dean mostly topped his male partners, there was one exception where the guy just ate Dean's ass like he was starving. At first it freaked Dean out, tongues were not supposed to go down there, but he quickly lost himself in the feeling. He'd been too scared to ask his partners for it again, but this dog was doing everything right. Everything that Sean had done this dog was doing five times better. The canine tongue could reach places that a human tongue couldn't possibly go. And the dog was sloppy and enthusiastic, not wanting to do anything but get his tongue as far inside Dean as possible.
Dean's dick hardened a bit more with every swipe of the tongue until he was at full mast. The tongue reached inside Dean's hole and curled, trying to get the flavor of Dean's soap. Dean was whimpering, actually whimpering like a bitch, and every time he tried to tell his legs to stand up and move he ended up spreading his knees further to let the dog lick his hole with abandon. This animal didn't know words like "stop," it wouldn't ask consent, it wouldn't check over Dean's shoulder to make sure he was enjoying it. No one asking "if Dean was close" or thinking about their own orgasm. The animal knew he wanted to lap at Dean's surprisingly sensitive hole over and over to its heart's content.
His nipples start to perk up as well and he wished he could rub them against the carpet to get some stimulation. He felt like a bitch, getting eaten out and wanting his tits to be pinched and rolled between talented fingers. But Dean couldn't stop himself through pushing back on the dog, getting the tongue deeper. There wasn't any accuracy, but it almost made it better. Sometimes the tongue would sneak inside, sometimes it would lap at the rim, sometimes there was a swipe across the entire entrance and make Dean's legs quiver. He reached a hand down to grip his dick but his weak legs couldn't support him on three limbs and had to remain all fours. It looked like if Dean was going to come, he was going to come on a canine tongue or not at all.
"Fuck, more," Dean groaned. He wasn't sure who he was begging for more but it felt like there was more vigor on the dog's part.
He felt an orgasm start to build in the base of his stomach. His dick was dripping precome and briefly the dog's tongue reached out and grazed his dick to lap at the salty taste. Dean's entire body spasmed and he sank to resting on his forearms instead of hands. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
The dog went back from lapping at Dean's cock and balls to rimming the human. It had been so long, so long, since Dean's dick had been inside some nice, tight pussy. He hadn't felt a woman underneath him in a while, more preoccupied with keeping himself and his brother alive than finding something to fuck. That was the only reason Dean was getting so turned on. That was it. Because this wasn't something he'd enjoy normally since it's wrong, because Dean was attracted to women and men if he was drunk enough, not dogs. But the way that the canine forced his tongue inside Dean's hole and wiggled around didn't feel wrong at all, it felt like absolute heaven. It felt like Dean wanted to always have a dog in the Impala.
The orgasm was rising quickly and with a deep gulp of air Dean felt his release join countless others on the gross motel carpet. In the back of his mind he knew that the dog was rutting against his thigh until something wet splattered on him. "Jesus Christ."
Dean heard the paws padding away to the corner and curling up. Dean's arms were rubber from the fight and from what was possibly the greatest orgasm of all time. He blamed the orgasm on not hearing the door open and barely hearing footsteps until Sam was in front of him. "Well, what's going on here, Dean?"