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He gave you a head start, unwrapping bloodied bandages from last night’s job off his hands. This was his way of cooling off. “You got five minutes. If you can hold out that long, I’ll buy you a nice hot dinner. If not…well, you know the rest.”
He always made you undress into just a t-shirt and underwear before your special hunts. It made you more vulnerable, he said. Easier access when he caught you. It was midsummer, so he didn't have to worry about you freezing your butt off. You’ve tried a couple times in the winter; both bundled up. He ended up tearing through all the layers in frustration and need. Your lips had gone blue, shivering the whole ride home. But that wouldn't stop you from trying again this winter. The chill mixed with the heat of his cock inside you was delicious and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on more.
Oh, and definitely no shoes. Sometimes he’d let you wear socks if he was feeling generous. Today was not one of those days. Your feet were already pricked with tiny branches and rocks. It used to hurt like hell, but the soles of your feet have calloused over the years. Dean says it’s a good thing, in case someone who’s not him tries to hunt you.
The wind was howling in your ears. You had drawn out a good ten meters distance before you heard Dean start up behind you, he whistled to let you know. You were thinking about telling him to stop that, you liked the scare. Not knowing how far behind you he was and not daring to check.
You darted through the forest, tree branches scratching your arms and dirt building up on your heels. You started to tire, so you found a nice, girthy tree to catch your breath behind. In and out, like your school counsellor used to say. You wiped the blood off your forearm and kept your senses sharp. You couldn’t rest for long or Dean would notice the absence of your rustling.
“Tired already, sweetheart?” You heard him call out; too close for comfort. You were up on your feet again, nails digging into your palms hoping the pain would make you faster. It was nearing sunset, your favourite time to play. You loved watching the skies' pretty colours swirl into one another. Dean was more interested in the shapes of the clouds, asking what you thought they were and comparing answers.
I guess you got a little carried away inside your head because you swear you caught a glimpse of Dean on your right, matching your pace through the trees. You made a sharp bolt in the other direction on instinct and got your leg caught on something. You didn’t have time to check what it was, you just yanked your foot out and kept running. It didn’t start to hurt until the adrenaline wore off later.
You stumbled through bushes, a false sense of hope burning through you as you felt the five-minute mark nearing. Dean's arm wrapped around you from behind, making you defenceless as he tackled you face-first into the ground. “Gotcha.”
You made a sound that was like a sob and a moan - not a whine, more guttural. He rutted his hips into your ass. “Fucked your leg? Poor bambi,” He said, biting your ear with your face buried in the dirt. He’d fix you up later.
You twisted your head back, left cheek smushed into the ground, and said it didn’t hurt. He was already getting handsy with your waist. Clawing at your waistband, hand trailing down to your crotch to tease. You felt his warm breath behind your ear and his bulge nudge your ass. You arched your back and lifted your hips so your cunt could grind against his dick, and that first roll was heavenly. Deans’ eyes rolled into the back of his head. “Look, baby, I know you wanna be in charge, but this is what happens when you lose,” he said, his hand pressing the small of your back flat against the ground. “Be a good sport, won’t ya’?”
You dug your nails into the earth, cursing yourself for not being able to hold out a little longer. Dean always took his time when he won. He’d bring you right to the edge and then stop touching you and do it all again. Sometimes you’d be out here for hours. He loved to watch you squirm. How your chest heaved up and down and your eyes watered. Watching the imprints his thumbs made in your skin rise back into place.
He humped you like a bitch in heat, hand in your crotch to guide your ass deeper into him (and "‘cause she deserved a little lovin’ too," as Dean would say). His free hand wandered up under your shirt, palming at your breasts, a brush over your nipple sending a shock to your core.
Every grind was slower and everything hotter, you were sure you were close to breaking a sweat. Your desperate groans filled the forest breeze, carrying them away to some stray hiker. A warning not to interrupt.
One time, in the earlier days, a couple of hikers almost caught the two of you. Dean held your mouth shut behind a big fallen down tree, his cock still deep in your cunt. He even had the gall to rub half-assed circles on your clit. Your thighs clamped together and walls squeezed tight around him, the both of you barely containing your moans with the hikers just a few feet away. Luckily they shrugged it off and went on their way. Dean wishes they found you two. He wanted to see the shock on their faces and the embarrassment on yours as he marked you as his. You told him it was too close and made a vow to always do your hunts just before dusk or dawn.
You gasped as he flipped you around abruptly. “Look at you…” he said, his tongue slicking his lips. Your face was flushed pink and your eyelids were heavy. Dean started to discard his leather jacket, he told you to lift your head and laid it underneath. Dean, although he could be a tyrant, always made sure you (among his baby brother) were taken care of.
He lifted your shirt up to reveal your breasts. “Want to see you - all of you,” he spoke eagerly. You assisted him in getting your shirt off and he took your panties off with ease, stuffing them in his jean pocket. “There she is.”
You were displayed like a meal and he looked hungrier than ever. “Spread your legs, doll.”
You listened like a dog, not only because that's what came with losing, but because you loved him like one too.
Light reflected off your drenched vulva. Dean smirked at the sight of it. Not just ‘cause your cunt was beautiful, but because he was damn proud of making you this fucking wet.
After prying his eyes away from your cunt, he noticed how you kept sheepishly glancing at the outline of his bulge. “What do I always tell ya’?” he said while lifting his shirt over his head. “Patience.”
His heavy hand tugged at your thigh, the other at your mouth waiting to be attended to. You let two fingers, index and middle, enter your mouth. You sucked gently, your tongue grazing the in-between. Your mouth made a pop sound when he took his fingers back. He was about to sink his fingers into you before you yelled out, “Wait-”
He froze, eyes darted to meet yours. It was rare for you to protest - in this context.
“You haven’t kissed me yet,” you explained.
“Sorry baby,” he breathed, and pressed a long deep kiss on your lips, which you both smiled into.
A vein of spit drew from your lips as he pulled away. He kept his eyes locked on yours and you made sure yours read 'ready' as he sunk his two fingers into you nice and slow. Your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth fell open. He relished in the view before pulling his talented fingers out and pushing them right back in over and over again.
You weren’t allowed to use your hands when he won. They were to sit by your sides idly. He didn’t want you interfering with his craft. All you could do was claw at the dirt or ball your hands into fists.
His thumb tended to your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. Your legs were twitching and your hips bucked uncontrollably. His free hand gripped your thigh hard into submission. It hurt, but not enough to trump the pleasure Dean’s fingers were blessing you with. “So fuckin’ desperate for my fingers,” he laughed.
You couldn’t hold back your moans even if you tried. He was that good.
Beads of sweat rolled off your skin. Dean felt you squeeze in that specific way he knew so well. He took his fingers back, leaving you pulsing around nothing. The emptiness made you anxious. You clenched your thighs tight in attempts to satiate your needs. The friction was just barely enough to keep you content. He brought his fingers to his mouth to lick your arousal off them. “Who needs candy when I got you? Sour, sweet and everything in-between,” he grinned.
The image of your slick on his tongue and in between his teeth rolled around inside your dumb-fucked head. Thinking of your fluids mixing together made your skin burn. The two of you swirling together and becoming one.
Dean, after licking his fingers clean, promptly ducked his head between your legs, deciding the small portion he got from his fingers simply wasn’t enough. His tongue glided over you in one achingly slow motion. Fuck me, you said, half in exclamation but more blatantly in truth. Dean got the message anyway. Sort of.
His hands gripped your ass, bringing your cunt deeper into his mouth. His tongue was wild, in and out of you and then tending to your clit. You grabbed a fistful of his hair in protest - if you could call it that. You wouldn’t. His fingers nor mouth could satisfy you now, you wanted and felt a desperate need in your core for his cock. Deans’ cock was one of a kind. He fit inside you like a glove. That feeling of fullness - of completeness - could never be replicated by anyone but him.
You heard yourself mumbling. You didn’t know what you were saying until you grew increasingly louder as you felt your climax near. Please; you were chanting please. Dean took that as his cue to stop.
He kept his hands steady on your thighs, holding them open. He wanted to watch your pussy pulse and clench at nothing. He liked you at your most desperate, when the only thing on your mind was him.
During this time, of him staring and you staring back - panting, you notice the damp spot marking his lap. Again, you think how if you had won this would have gone much differently. You thought your way was much more efficient.
You could picture his swollen dick beneath his denim jeans vividly. If you had won, you’d have taken care of that long ago. Dean could be cruel in that way, to himself mostly.
Once your body had calmed enough, Dean began unbuckling his belt. The sound of the metal clinking sent shocks of excitement through your body. “Been so patient for me, such a good girl,” he said. “Think you deserve a prize.”
He pulled his pants down enough to expose himself and before you could appreciate the view of his glistening cock springing out of his boxers, he pushed himself into you hard and fast.
You made a noise so guttural you weren’t sure it was your own or some wild animal lurking in the forest. Dean stilled himself inside you, feeling you adjust and mold to his size. His cock twitched inside you while your walls clenched around him. “Feel so fuckin’ good,” he groaned. It was taking all his might not to pound into you relentlessly. “Fuckin’ made for me.”
Your head was hot and your mind blank, left with just the feeling of him. His gaze burned your skin. Despite how heavy your eyelids felt, you fought to keep them open. The view of Dean was heavenly. He gripped at your thighs tighter. “Who’s pussy is this,” he asked, nodding his head, subconsciously confirming your answer for you.
“Yours,” you stammered, “yours, yours, yours.”
His face inched closer and closer to yours as you blabbered on. “Damn straight,” he said before kissing you softly. A stark contrast from what comes next.
His lips were mush against yours, wet and soft. He bit your bottom lip, pulling and releasing it. His tongue slipped into your mouth, dancing with yours. Meanwhile, his cock warmed you still. Half your attention was stolen by the need to stop your hips from bucking, knowing that would make him take even longer to give you the release you needed five minutes ago.
Once he felt your guard had been shed - he knew because of how your body relaxed (notably around his cock) and your eyebrows furrowed, showing deep focus on chasing his kisses - he quickly stole his length back and pushed back into you with a force so deep you thought you saw God in the rays of sun poking through the tree branches above you.
The sudden, unforeseeable momentum of his cock being thrusted in and out of you made you throw your head back, resulting in it meeting with the hard ground. Your ears rung and it added a certain spark to the act of your bodies clashing against one another.
“You look like you’re gonna pass out on me,” he laughed. That got a smile out of you. Despite his notion of worry he didn’t slow his pace. In fact, he added his thumb to your clit, erratically tracing semi-circles.
Your hair clung uncomfortably to your forehead sweat and your back started to hurt from arching. As well, your head pounded from the blow and your ankle pulsed from earlier. In comparison to the imminent event of cumming around Dean’s cock, pain seemed trivial.
“You close, baby?” He asked, out of breath. He didn’t await a response - could tell by the look on your face. “Yeah, me too.”
His moans came from a deep place inside him, gurgling in his throat and catching on his teeth. His upper body blushed beautifully, contrasting his pure white knuckles.
Your ears weren’t even registering your own sounds anymore. You completely zeroed in on him.
“God- fuck,” Dean grunted, and Dean doesn’t even believe in God. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby, how’d I get so lucky?”
He was falling apart, getting lost in the pleasure. You knew he would forget all about taking his time, chained to chasing the climax ahead. "Yes, yes, yes," you slurred. Make me come, make it all go black for a second.
He gave it to you rough at a sloppy pace. You dug your head into the crook of his neck for a second before you pulled you back. "No, baby, look at me. Look at me while you come."
As soon as you met his eyes you felt it. The rush surging through your entire body, through every artery and all your nerves. It was strong, you felt you legs quiver. Dean was a mess too, pushing into you slow, like it hurt.
Time froze then. It was just you and Dean and pleasure. You gained the strength to kiss him deeply - messily - as he finished. He watched his cum spill out of you as he pulled out. Marked.