
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/990693.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester/Original_Female_Character
      (s), Sam_Winchester/Original_Female_Character(s), Sam_Winchester/Original
      Male_Character(s)
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, Original_Female_Character(s), Original
      Male_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Threesome_-_F/M/M, Threesome_-_M/M/M, Mildly_Dubious_Consent, Underage
      Sex, POV_Outsider
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-10-04 Words: 7534
****** Selling Sin to Saints ******
by JCRGirl
Summary
     Brenda is a good girl with strong moral values. When she finds the
     Winchester brothers in a compromising position, she makes it her
     mission to minister, save them. Questions remain...do the Winchesters
     want to be saved and can they convince Brenda of the greatness of
     some sins.
Notes
     This is an exercise to see if I could write a believable threesome.
     Imogen_lily and I were kicking around the idea of a threesome in an
     upcoming fic and I wanted to see if I could even do it. Plus I wanted
     to write a fic where Sam was cocky and confident. Well, mainly
     because I think it's hot. Also, I personally don't have anything
     against True Love Waits, it just wasn't for me. Tagged for mild dub-
     con. I don't see it that way, but some might.
     Beta'd by the beautiful Deansdirtybb and Sammichgirl who convinced me
     it wasn't garbage and should be posted.
For all intents and purposes, Brenda was a good girl. She was a straight A
student, junior class Treasurer, member of the debate team and president of the
local abstinence club, Lasting Love Forever. She had a group of close friends,
loving parents, a church home and, best of all, a boyfriend with similar
morals. Jonah never pressured her for more, seemingly happy with chaste kisses
and entwined fingers. Brenda’s life was perfect. Unfortunately, at seventeen
she didn’t realize that perfection was fleeting.
October had turned unseasonably cool and she breathed a heavy sigh of relief
when she pushed her way into Angelina Bradford’s house, the warmth inside
enveloping her. She’d never been to a Halloween party before, but her best
friend, Melissa, wanted to come and felt awkward going alone so Brenda and
Jonah agreed to accompany her. She was dressed as a fairytale princess, the low
cut of the costume making her uncomfortable, but it fit her body well and was
half of the only couple’s outfit the store had left. It was worth a little
embarrassment to see Jonah as the dapper Prince Charming. 
“I’m gonna go find us some drinks,” Jonah bent close to her ear to be heard
over the thumping bass rhythm pouring out of a set of large speakers set up
near the fireplace.
Nodding her head, she motioned for Melissa to head for an empty stretch of wall
near the dining room. It was out of the direct blast path of the speakers and
gave them a prime vantage point of the people in the living room, dining room
and most of the kitchen. It only took Maddy Harper walking by in a blue gingham
scrap of cloth that Brenda supposed was meant to be a Dorothy costume for their
conversation to turn catty, both girls taking delight in disparaging their
fellow classmates’ character and questioning their purity. They’d made it
through all the girls in sight when Brenda realized that Jonah hadn’t returned
with the drinks.
“Where did Jonah get off to?” She craned her neck to peer through the crowd.
“No clue,” Melissa did her own scan of the party-goers. “Think we should look
for him?”
“Probably,” Brenda shrugged, lips tilting up playfully, “in case some other
woman has wooed him away.”
“I doubt that,” Melissa smoothed a hand over her pirate costume, “Prince
Charming can’t leave his princess for another woman. They’re supposed to live
happily ever after. You wanna take inside and I’ll check outside?”
“Yeah,” Brenda fluffed out her billowy skirt, making sure that it wasn’t under
her feet. “Text me if you find him.”
Brenda wound her way through the masses, checking all the downstairs rooms to
no avail. Coming out of the den she saw Jonah’s friend, Adam, and hurried over
to him. “Have you seen Jonah?”
 “Not recently,” Adam’s gaze roved over her costume, lingering on the exposed
neckline.
 “But you’ve seen him tonight?” At Adam’s distracted nod, she asked, “When?”
Adam pursed his lips in thought, “About an hour ago, I guess. He was headed
upstairs to use the head.”
Brenda flicked her eyes up the stairs. It was as good a lead as any. Thanking
Adam, she gathered her skirt, lifting it up and away from her feet, and
ascended the stairs.
The bathroom upstairs was empty and each door she opened revealed an occupied
bedroom – the girls she’d pegged as sluts earlier proving her right. The last
door led to what Brenda assumed was Mr. & Mrs. Bradford’s bedroom and she
figured they’d have an en suite bathroom. She hoped not to find another
cheerleader promoting a stereotype as she cracked the door and peered into the
spacious room. Her hand froze on the door and her breath seized in her chest.
Sitting on the king-sized bed, leaning back against the headboard, was that
oldest Winchester boy – Dean, she thought his name was – completely nude with
his legs splayed wide and smoking a cigarette. Nestled in the V with his back
resting against Dean’s chest was the younger boy – Sean? Sam? Something like
that – also undressed with a blissed out look on his face. Between his legs was
a boy, kneeling facing him, head bobbing up and down in a leisurely rhythm.
Sam’s long fingers were knotted in the boy’s hair, guiding the movements and
urging him faster.
One of Dean’s hands lay wide and possessive against Sam’s lower abdomen while
the other brought the cigarette to his younger brother’s lips.  Sam inhaled the
acrid smoke, eyes closing in obvious relish as Dean nuzzled his neck, and
leaned his head back onto Dean’s shoulders, exhaling a bluish stream toward the
ceiling. Something in her body clenched at seeing them like that, naked and
intimate in a way no brothers should be.
“Like a fucking pro,” Dean smirked looking down at the boy hovering over Sam’s
groin. “Taking you like that.”
Sam smiled lazily, fingers of one hand loosening to pat the boy on the head.
“Such a good little cocksucker.”
Dean’s hand ran up over the defined muscles of Sam’s stomach, to stroke and
pinch at his nipples. Nudging the guy’s side with his foot, he flattened it to
rub up and down his side. “Does your girlfriend know the reason you’re willing
to wait for her prude ass is because you rather play with outies than innies?”
Brenda pulled her gaze from Dean’s stroking hands and focused on the guy
between Sam’s legs. It was then that she noticed the blue trousers and white
tunic the guy wore, exactly like Jonah had been wearing. She let out a squeak
in surprise, Dean and Sam’s eyes flying to her.
“Guess the homos out of the bag,” Dean dropped the cigarette into a red Solo
cup on the nightstand, the lit tobacco extinguishing in a hiss.
She saw Jonah’s back tense, his head try to lift up, but Sam tightened his grip
and forced his head down hard. Jonah’s body shuddered, Sam’s dick blocking his
airway, and his hands pawed at Sam’s hips and thighs only to be caught in
Dean’s. Jonah struggled, but neither of the Winchester brothers seemed inclined
to release him.
“You wanted to play with the big boys,” Dean mumbled, watching Jonah’s futile
attempts to get free, “so just take what you’re given.”
Jonah whimpered, the sound morphing into a muffled groan as his hips twisted
from side to side. His body snapped coil spring tight then convulsed and Brenda
worried for a wild moment that he was having a seizure until she saw thick,
white ropes splatter across Sam’s calf and the bed sheets.
Dean shot her a smug smile, singing softly. “Someday, my prince will come…”
Brenda’s brain came back online and hurriedly backed out the door, seeing Sam
release Jonah’s head and roughly shove him in the direction of his lower leg.
“You made the mess, you clean it up.”
She slammed the door and went down the stairs two at a time, nearly falling
once when she stepped on the hem of her skirt. She snagged Melissa, who’d been
looking for her in the foyer, on the way out the front door.
 
*****
 
The next day, after church, she stood in front of room 12 at the Apple Blossom
Motel, steeling her resolve to knock on the door. She’d been awake most of the
night, images of the depravity she’d seen in that bedroom running through her
mind. Close to dawn she came to the conclusion that she needed to talk to the
Winchester brothers, minister to them, savethem. She held the informational
pamphlets Lasting Love Forever distributed in her hand and raised a trembling
fist to knock on the door.
“Looking for us, princess?”
She startled at the voice next to her ear, wondering how he was able to sneak
up on her so quietly. Dean leaned against the wall, facing her with an
expression that made her heart race and stomach tighten.
“I – I.” she stammered, taking an involuntary step back only to come up against
a hard body behind her.
“Spit it out, darlin’,” Sam whispered in her ear, the hairs that had fallen
loose from her braid tickling her cheek in the wake of his warm breath. “People
will think you’re slow.”
She wanted to pull away, but her body felt weak and she was afraid her knees
would buckle. A shiver rippled over her frame and Sam chuckled in her ear.
Dean looked down at the pamphlets crushed in her grip and pulled one of the
crinkled papers free. A smirk teased his lips as he silently mouthed the
program’s logo – Keeping the promise of love until forever.
“Sammy, I believe that Brenda has come to talk to us about the virtues of
abstinence.” Dean turned the brochure around for Sam to read the front.
“Hmmm,” Sam hummed, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating her
back. “Could be a titillating conversation.” He cupped her hip with his large
hand, the warmth seeping through the material of her skirt and causing a flush
to creep up her neck. “Why don’t you come inside and we can discuss the ins and
outs of your position?”
Dean chuckled darkly, pulling a key from his front pocket and quickly unlocking
the door. Standing to the side, he held it open and waved her through with a
flourish of his hand. She stood rooted to the spot, brain not communicating
with her mouth to deny the offer and leave nor her legs to accept and go
inside. The heat on her hip and at her back gently urged her forward, making
the decision for her addled mind, and she stepped over the threshold. She
jumped slightly when the door slammed; shivering at the click of the lock
engaging, and a thumb snaked under the hem of her sweater to rub at her side
soothingly. Heat flared along her skin and a tingle started low in her abdomen.
Dean walked past them, stripping his jacket and draping it over the back of the
chair. “I’m really digging the parochial school outfit there,” he eyed her
clothes from the ribbon tying back her hair to the Mary Janes on her feet.
Dumbly, she looked down at her modest length plaid skirt and blue cardigan, her
starched white shirt peeking out at the cuffs and collar. She could feel the
tight elastic of her knee socks biting into the tender flesh of her calves.
“Picture of innocence and purity,” Dean purred, unbuttoning the cuffs of his
flannel overshirt and shucking it, the fabric pooling on the floor.
The word purity pulled her from her dazed stupor and she cleared her throat
nervously. “I –I wanted to t-talk to you about L-lasting L-love F-forever.”
Darn! She’d never been prone to stuttering, but the strong presence still
molded to her back was distracting and it hadn’t occurred to her to tell Sam to
move away.
“No, you didn’t,” Sam countered confidently, hand gripping her hip a little
tighter as his index finger joined the thumb stroking her waist. “You wanted to
talk to us about what you saw last night.”
It took sheer will to force herself away from Sam and she faced off against the
two brothers. “No! I mean, yes. I wanted to let you know that it isn’t too late
to join LLF. You can make a commitment and become born-again virgins.” She was
proud her voice didn’t waver, her head clear now that she was away from the
musky smell and heat emanating from Sam.
“Don’t think so, princess,” Dean crossed the room to stand in front of her,
movements sinuous and fluid. “I couldn’t get rid of my V-card fast enough the
first time. Hell, fucking shredded the thing the first time Jessica O’Brien
sucked me off in the back seat of the Impala. Remember that Sammy?” He tossed a
lecherous grin at his brother, who groaned, then stared directly at Brenda
again.  “Just flipped her on her back,” his hand lightly caressed Brenda’s
spine and she firmed her knees to keep them under her, “fingered her until I
was ready again,” fingers lightly traced the curve of her cheek before he
leaned close, “then fucked her until she screamed.”  She stood in numb shock,
wondering if this was what a deer felt like right before the squeal of tires.
“The whole three minutes it lasted,” Sam’s voice was laced in amusement.
Pulling back, Dean’s eyes darkened. “Like you lasted much longer the first
time.”
Brenda brows furrowed and Dean could feel her expression change under the palm
still pressed to her cheek. “We like to watch,” Dean winked, tapping her
confused pout with his thumb. “Back to my point, though, the only people who
like being a virgin are those who haven’t been introduced to the greatness of
sex. You came here because you’re looking for an orientation.”
Sam stepped back up behind her, thumbs hooked over her hips and long fingers
splayed across her pelvis in a downward angle, touching just above her pubic
bone. She gasped in surprise and that warm chuckle washed over her again. “And
you were wanting us to be your guides. Help you understand why you get that
tingling feeling here,” he pressed his fingers down into her skin and she
squeezed her legs together at the pulse of fluid she felt her body release.
“N-no,” she denied weakly, voice breathy and panting.
“Shhh,” Dean shushed her, “it’s okay. We’re gonna treat you so good, princess.
Spoil you for any man that comes after.” He trailed his hands down from her
face, skirting them over the swell of her breasts, down her sides and past
Sam’s hands spanning her pelvis to rest just below the apex of Sam’s fingers.
Her eyes widened as her body tried to grind up into the gentle pressure and
Dean smirked in understanding. He leaned forward, lips only millimeters away
from hers. “You ever been touched before, princess?” His breath, cigarette-
tinged mint, ghosted over her parted mouth.
She shook her head slightly unable to form words, body clenching in
anticipation. He swayed closer, his lips meeting hers, and her body exploded in
desire. Kisses with Jonah had never been like this, shivering as her body
burned for more. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest and her lips trembled
against Dean’s sure ones. She felt like she was dying, body falling apart, and
in that moment she couldn’t think of a better way to go. Dean’s warm tongue
traced her lips and they parted in invitation. He tasted like nicotine and
spearmint, like sweetened damnation, and she couldn’t get enough. She faltered
when Sam started nibbling on the back of her neck, a shudder running down her
body when he sucked on a patch of skin behind her ear.
She was so overwhelmed by Dean’s mouth moving against hers and Sam’s on her
neck, that she didn’t realize Sam’s fingers were slowly working the buttons on
her cardigan and shirt open. She groaned, breaking the kiss, and her knees did
buckle when his warm hands smoothed over her stomach and cupped her breasts,
those same hands the only things keeping her from hitting the ground. Eyes
fluttering shut, she dropped her head back onto Sam’s chest and let the
sensations flow over her as she panted out her desire.
Wet sounds filled the room and she turned her head to the side to see Dean
kissing Sam, their tongues tangling around each other’s. She whimpered and they
separated to look at her with matching devilish grins.
“Don’t worry, princess,” Dean cooed, “We haven’t forgot about you. Just had to
get a taste of my Sammy.” He slid to his knees before her, hands cupping her
hips, as he peppered kisses to the creamy skin above her waistband.
“You liked that didn’t you?” Sam’s voice was molten sex in her ear, sultry and
dark. One hand came up to stroke her neck while the other thumbed and pinched
her nipple through the thin cotton of her bra. “Made you hot to see us kissing
like that. Just like you got off on Jonah’s pretty mouth going down on me.” He
kissed her jaw in a steady line to her mouth, taking her lips when he was near.
She vaguely registered the sound of a zipper right before she felt her skirt
slide down her legs. Her body tried to fold in on itself, hide from the
appraising eyes, but Sam’s arms around her torso and Dean’s hands on her hips
kept it from happening. She pulled her lips from Sam’s and looked down at Dean.
“Fucking told you, Sammy,” he grinned. “White cotton with a pink rosebud. You
owe me five bucks.”
She balked at the idea of them discussing the type of underwear she wore, her
face pinking in a blush. Her embarrassment was forgotten when calloused thumbs
snuck under the legs of the panties in question, rubbing the tender skin of her
hip. She whined, body arching into the touch.
Dean looked up and winked at her. Hooking his thumbs in the fabric he tugged
them down, exposing her in a way she’d never been before.
“Wild and untamed,” Dean remarked, fingers petting the dark curls. Her hips
pulled back on instinct, pressing her back against Sam’s arousal. “Sshh,
princess,” Dean soothed, “It’s alright.” He pet over her again, fingers
brushing over her on the way down and parting her on the way back up.
Brenda keened, body slumping against Sam bonelessly, a marionette with its
strings cut.
“She’s so wet, Sammy,” he held up a glistening finger to his younger brother.
Brenda almost passed out when Sam dipped down, taking the digit in his mouth
and sucked her juices from it.
Dean pushed at her thighs, trying to separate them. “Come on, princess. Open
up. I want a taste too.” When she didn’t move, apparently unable to, he nudged
Sam’s leg. “Spread her for me, Sam.”
The caresses across her chest stopped and she felt Sam’s large hands grip the
backs of her thighs. He grunted and her feet left the floor, straining biceps
hard against her sides. He opened her legs and Dean walked forward on his knees
to slot himself between them. She cried out at the first swipe of wet heat
across her clit, white starbursts exploding behind closed eyelids. Sam nuzzled
her neck, nipping, biting and sucking his way from jaw to shoulder.
It was too much. Her body was on overload, sensations she’d never dreamed of
before bombarding her. She writhed and twitched, body convulsing of its own
accord. A finger traced her before delving in and she screamed.
“Oh, God! Please,” she begged, not even understanding what she was begging for,
but knowing she needed something.
Dean kept up his ministrations and added a second finger, the stretch
unfamiliar and strange. She winced and her legs jerked.
“Always a little pain getting your cherry popped,” Sam breathed in her ear. He
jostled her right leg until it was draped over Dean’s shoulder then snaked his
hand over her thigh, his fingers rubbing her clit and teasing Dean’s tongue.
The digits wandered lower, feeling where Dean’s were disappearing into her,
running around the edge before thrusting one of his own in next to the two of
Dean’s. She cried out at the sudden intrusion. “God, you’re so wet and warm,”
he groaned, thrusting his fingers counterpoint to his brother’s. “Can’t wait to
get my dick in here. We talked about it, you know? I’ve never had a virgin so
Dean’s being gracious and gonna let me fuck you first.”
Her mind was in chaos, new sensations flooding her system and clouding her
thoughts. Sam’s words made it past the haze. “Fffffuck m-me first?” The vulgar
word felt awkward in her mouth, having never passed her lips before.
“Yeah, darlin’.” Sam scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin of her neck. His
finger retreated, grabbing her hip again. “Dean doesn’t mind my sloppy
seconds.”
She wanted to protest, sure that there was an insult in there somewhere, but
Dean chose that moment to roll his tongue in an interesting move that left her
squirming and keening. She felt hands brush against the bottom swell of her ass
and for the first time since Dean kissed her, she was afraid. She jerked away
from caress, thighs pressing down on Sam’s arm and Dean’s shoulder.
 Dean lifted his head, a knowing smirk lifting one side of his glistening
mouth. “Relax, sweetheart. As much as I’d like to see you filled to bursting, I
don’t think you’re up for anal just yet.” He twisted his fingers inside her,
brushing something deep that stole her breath and sent electricity through her
veins, and her body ground down seeking the feeling. She panted, whining in
frustrations, and her hips rolled desperate to maneuver him back to that spot
again.
“She’s like a finger puppet,” Dean’s voice purred. “Let’s see if we can make
her dance.” The fingers shifted again and suddenly her whole body tensed at the
explosion of pleasure, muscles spasming in jerky contractions that jolted her
like she’d been touched with a live wire. She threw her head back onto Sam’s
shoulder and her mouth opened in a silent scream.
She rode a wave of bliss, body floating on an endorphin high, arms and legs
heavy and lax. Distantly she was aware of Sam carrying her to the bed, but the
sounds of a zipper lowering and fabric falling to the floor were lost in the
sea of satiation. He sat on the edge and situated her in his lap, her legs
draped over his thighs leaving her middle open and exposed. His hands smoothed
over her thighs, soothing her through the last shudders of her orgasm.
She smiled lazily when Dean nestled between the spread of their legs. He leaned
forward to kiss her and she tasted a tanginess on his lips that hadn’t been
there before. It took a moment to realize that it was the lingering traces of
her wetness and a thought of dirtybadwrong shot heat through her body. She
licked into his mouth and over his lips, lapping at the flavor until she
couldn’t taste it anymore.
“Told you good girls were kinky,” Sam chuckled over her shoulder, his fingers
dancing over her nipples, hardening them into tight peaks. She groaned, back
arching into the painpleasure. “She’s got the makings of a first rate slut.”
Dean hummed as he pulled away from the kiss and Brenda couldn’t contain the
whimper at the loss, head leaning in to follow his lips. “I think you’re right,
Sammy.” He slid his hand between her thighs, parting her folds and sliding his
digits through the slickness coating them. “You ready to give it up, little
girl? Let Sammy show you what you’ve been missing?” He slid his fingers into
her, easy as sin, and rubbed them over that spot again, forcing a moan up her
throat. Sam pinched her nipples, the added feeling causing her to yell out.
“Please,” she begged, her dazed mind no longer caring about lasting love or
archaic notions on sex. “God, please.” Her chest was heaving, breasts bouncing
slightly with each stuttered inhale.
“All right, darlin’,” Sam drawled. He nudged her forward on his legs - pushing
her further down his thighsntoward his knees, spreading her legs still draped
over his wider. Dean’s fingers continued to brush over her insides deliciously
as she was pressed up against his body knelt between her parted thighs. “Play
with Dean for a second.” She heard crinkling and an elastic sound, but lost all
train of thought when Dean’s warm mouth latched onto her right nipple, tongue
circling the nub as he sucked on it gently.
“Aahh,” her hands tangled into his short hair, holding his head in place.
Dean’s hands, one slimy with her own excitement, maneuvered her legs back until
her shins rested on the bed next to Sam’s hips. Brenda was chaste, not naïve,
and the words ‘reverse cowgirl’ popped into her head before all thought left
her when Dean turned his attention to her left nipple.
Strong hands cupped her hips and urged her upwards. “Raise up a little,
darlin’.” She lifted up and was guided back. Dean walked forward on his knees,
following her body as she was maneuvered, his mouth never stopping the sweet
torture on her nipple. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, forcing her to
lean forward. He exchanged one nipple for the other and she was momentarily
distracted until a bluntness pressed against her. She froze, fear making her
wiggle in an attempt to get away, but their arms held her in place.
Sam warm breath ghosted over her ear. “Gonna give you what you were begging so
prettily for,” he husked then pulled back on her hips and thrust his own
forward. She cried out as Sam slid home, his pleasured groan adding a bass
undertone to the sound. Even with the warning that it would hurt, the ache deep
inside, the discomfort of virgin territory being breached, took her by
surprise. Her nails bit into Dean’s scalp and he gently pried her hands away,
resting them on Sam’s knees. She panted whimpered breaths to the ceiling as
both men waited patiently for her to recover.
“Sshh, princess,” Dean breathed in her ear, petting her side. “Sammy’s a big
boy. Relax and let him in.”
She shifted, rolled her hips in lazy figure eights, trying to adjust to being
so full. She ached, but she couldn’t decide whether it was pleasure tinged pain
or pain tinged pleasure. Guiding hands on her hips lifted her up and slowly
lowered her down and she gasped at the sinfully sweet slide of Sam’s hardened
member against her sensitive inner walls. She started a slow rise and fall,
getting used to the motion and sensations that became quicker and harder as
awkward morphed into awesome. Sam was like an earthquake, shaking her body and
taking her down to her foundations.
“Oh, fuck. So tight,” Sam moaned. His upper body fell back on the bed, changing
the angle of penetration, and her body clenched around him involuntarily, a cry
ripping up her throat. “Shit,” he cursed, low and feral, fingers tightening on
her hips and toes curling in the carpet. She tensed her muscles, wondering at
his reaction and was rewarded with a pornographic groan and a particularly hard
thrust up. “Goddamn!”
She forced her eyes open and looked down, only now realizing that Dean had
stopped stroking her side. The older boy sat back on his haunches, hands idly
stroking down Sam’s calves and eyes focused where Sam was disappearing into her
body. Embarrassment washed over her and she tried to close her legs, hide from
his intimate gaze, but Dean’s hands held her thighs back with gentle pressure.
His gaze flicked up and locked on hers, hand sliding up her inner thigh to
touch where they were joined. His fingers traced the edge where she was wrapped
around Sam’s member, eyes tracking the movement with rapt attention, body
moving forward again to nestle between their opened legs.
“Taking my baby boy so good, princess. Stretching around him like a velvet
glove,” he whispered before slipping his finger in beside his brother’s
thrusting cock. Her back arched and she squealed, the ache that had begun to
recede intensifying again. She screamed and her body jerked to the left only to
be held still by Sam’s hands on her hips when something warm and wet licked
across her clit. Her eyes flew open in shock and she saw Dean hunched low, his
tongue caressing her and laving over Sam’s cock each time it emerged. Sam’s
torso surged upward, feet momentarily leaving the floor, before falling back.
He rocked into her erratically, restrained thrusting abandoned as his need
grew. The magnitude of the earthquake intensified, her fingers tightening into
Sam’s knees to keep from being unseated, and she knew utter devastation would
be all that was left in its wake.
“Shit, Dean,” Sam groaned, “I’m gonna…I gotta…”  
Dean pulled his head back, his fingers replacing his tongue massaging her. “Do
it, Sammy. Princess can take it.”
Sam’s hands gripped her hips iron tight and he used his feet on the floor for
leverage, thrusting up into her in long, strong strokes. She cried out and
wriggled with each forceful penetration, her body no longer under her control
as his hardened member rubbed across that place inside that made her vision
white out. She heard grunts, some her own, but most not, and felt Sam sit up
behind her and go stock still beneath her. He gave one last thrust and she
slumped back against his strong chest and let the earthquake shake her apart.
 
*****
 
She woke and blinked her eyes to see Dean kissing Sam over her left shoulder,
the two of them sandwiching her body between them. Dean’s fingers were tangled
in Sam’s hair and unlike the kisses he’d given her these were tender,
possessive, claiming. Dean pulled back, a thin trail of spittle connecting
their lips, and stared at Sam with hungry eyes. “Fuck, Sammy. That was hot.”
“Mmmm, yeah,” Sam hummed, leaning in for another kiss. His voice was deep and
throaty and it sent a shiver up her spine.
Dean felt the tremor and leaned back, smiling at her. “Looks like Sleeping
Beauty is awake.” He leaned over and kissed her, Sam’s hands rubbing soothingly
over her stomach. “Did you like your introduction into the sins of the flesh?”
He thumbed her nipple, the backs of his fingers dragging teasingly light down
her abdomen to rub over her clit.
She whimpered, her over-sensitive body trying to pull away from the too much
feeling while grinding down in search of more. Dean smirked, fingers delving
lower to comb through the thick snatch of curls and gliding easily over the
swollen lips.
“I think she did, Sammy.” Dean whispered against the skin of her neck,
goosebumps rising in the wake of his warm breath. “I’m glad, princess, but it’s
not over yet. I haven’t gotten my turn.”
His strong hands cupped under her buttocks and scooped her up from Sam’s lap.
She grimaced at the squelchy sound of Sam leaving her body and the emptiness
she felt deep inside. Dean laid her on the bed next to Sam, following her down
with sucking kisses to her neck, blanketing her body with his. He trailed wet,
open-mouthed kisses along her jaw to her lips, claiming them in a kiss. She
tried to soften the exchange, pull back, seeking desperately the gentle passion
she’d seen between the brothers. Dean drew back, chuckling. “Don’t be greedy,”
he admonished, tapping her lightly on the end of the nose. “You can’t have it
all. Some things are just for me and my Sammy.” He kissed her lips chaste, but
hard, “Lay there and relax for a minute.”
He slid off the end of the bed, fingers lightly roving over her naked skin as
he went. She did as she was told and melted back into the mattress, her time
with Sam still leaving her limbs and mind heavy with satisfaction. Dean stood
and slowly stripped his Henley off, revealing his tanned, muscled chest to her
for the first time. She frowned looking over to Sam, still perched at his place
on the end of the bed, to see his long-sleeved t-shirt was still on and felt
cheated that she hadn’t experienced the heat of his skin without the barrier.
Dean unbuttoned his jeans, his unclothed erection forcing the zipper down with
its insistent press, and he let the denim fall to the ground. Standing in all
his naked, Adonis-like glory, he turned toward Sam. “Little help, Sammy.”
Without hesitation, Sam leaned forward and licked off the pearlescent drop of
fluid glistening at the end of Dean’s member with obvious relish before
engulfing the entire thing in his mouth. Brenda’s mouth fell open as Sam’s eyes
rolled back in his head and his eyelids fluttered shut. Dean moaned low and
dirty, Sam hollowing his cheeks and pulling back only to go back down again.
“Shit, Sammy,” Dean panted, head tilting back and fingers threading in Sam’s
long hair. “I was talking about the condom. You gotta stop or princess won’t
get her happy ending.”
Sam’s lips left Dean with an obscene pop and the younger Winchester looked at
his brother with an evil grin. “I know what you were talking about,” he grabbed
a foil wrapped package from the bed and ripped it open with practiced ease,
“but I couldn’t help myself.” He smoothed a hand over Dean’s turgid cock,
pressing a kiss to the tip, then unrolled the condom down the length. Once
done, he laid back on the bed beside a bewildered Brenda, finger drawing an
idle pattern over her stomach. She blinked up at him owlishly and he smiled,
leaning down to kiss her as his fingers ghosted lower to tease the skin of her
inner thigh. “You know how this goes, darlin’. Gotta spread those delicious
legs so Dean can get to your sweetness inside,” he whispered against her mouth,
the saliva slick catch-and-slide of his lips on hers taunting her with the
promise of more.
Body controlled by her baser instincts, the reptilian feed-or-breed part of her
brain, she parted her thighs, heart racing in anticipation of what was to come.
“Good girl,” Sam kissed her again, her body thrilling at the resumed contact
and her hands moving up to fist into his silky hair. She felt an odd flush of
pride over the praise, her blush deepening when Dean snickered, “First rate
slut.”
The mattress dipped as Dean climbed between her spread legs, coaxing hands
maneuvering her. The press of Sam’s lips became harder and she returned it just
as hungrily, until her mouth broke free on a gasp when Dean’s length filled her
in one fluid thrust.
“Jesus Christ!” She screamed, back arching and the fingers entangled in Sam’s
hair tightening painfully. Sam left them there, allowing the hold to ground
her, and ran his nose over her cheek to her ear. “Pre-marital sex and blasphemy
all in one day,” he chuckled, lowly, mouth whispering over the skin of her
neck. “I think we’re a bad influence on you.” He sucked at the juncture of neck
and shoulder and she shivered at the feel.
Sam kissed her, nips and bites to her throat and jaw interspersed with deep,
hard clashes of lips and tongues, as Dean set up a steady rhythm, precision
aimed thrusts making her toes curl and hands move from Sam’s hair to the
sheets. The sounds of lips on skin mixed with the slap of flesh on flesh, a
syncopated bass line to the harmony of Dean’s grunts and her breathy gasps. If
Sam was like an earthquake, Dean was a tsunami and she felt helpless in the
shadow of its impending doom.
“Just look at him.” Sam’s voice, lust rough and awe soft, raised the tiny hairs
at the nape of her neck as he whispered the words directly into her skin and
she blinked up at the other man obediently. “So goddamn perfect, isn’t he?
Feels so fucking good filling you, right? I know it does.” Sam pet her from
neck to navel, fingers skimming over the back of Dean’s hand to ghost up the
underside of his forearm. Dean’s hips jerked forward, her gasp echoing his. “So
big and thick.” His fingers danced down Dean’s torso, forcing the already
rippling muscles to spasm and dance, moving downward to where they were joined.
Sam’s index and middle finger straddled Dean’s member, loose enough to not
impede the easy back and forth but tight enough that Dean’s eyes rolled back in
his head at added stimulation, his palm a heavy pressure against her clit,
making her muscles clench around Dean’s hardness. “Slides in and out, fitting
so damn perfect, chasing away all the emptiness you never knew you had.”
Her mind whited out, buzzing like a test pattern, bombarded with information
overload – Sam’s husky voice in her ear, Dean’s hands on her hips, the
delicious, frictionless pump of Dean’s cock into her, the musky, sweaty smell
of them in her nose. The tsunami loomed closer, threateningly, the promise of
drowning an acceptable consequence of letting it crash over her.
Sam’s hand covered hers still clamped in his hair, fingers clammy and damp from
her wetness, and guided her hand up toward Dean. “You can touch him if you
want.” Sam put her hand on Dean’s bicep and she tentatively smoothed over the
muscle.
“It’s okay, princess,” Dean cooed, his soft, soothing voice a contrast to the
low, gravelly rasp of Sam’s. He snapped his hips forward in a hard thrust and
swiveled his hips lazily. Brenda arched her back at the electric jolt zinging
through her body, fingers digging deep into Dean’s skin, mouth open in a silent
scream, head tossing on the pillow.
“Eureka,” Dean crowed and thrust in again, hitting the same spot as before. She
cried out and writhed, losing herself to the onslaught of sensation.
“Oh, fuck,” Dean’s voice was breathier, reverent, and she opened the eyes she’d
unknowingly closed to see what had caused the change.
Sometime, she wasn’t exactly sure when, Sam had stopped kissing her body and
started kissing Dean’s. He littered wet, lingering kisses up Dean’s abdomen,
pausing to suck on a nipple. Dean’s rhythm stuttered, a groan tearing up his
throat that sent a flush across her skin, and the hands on her hips tightened
to the point she knew there’d be bruises. Sam licked the hardened nub, blowing
gently over it, then dipped his head beneath Dean’s arm to ghost his lips over
Dean’s side and up his back.
“Sammy,” Dean sighed, finding his tempo again. Sam appeared over Dean’s
shoulder, body molded to Dean’s back, arms around his waist and hands smoothing
over the plains of his chest and stomach.
“Come on, Dean,” Sam growled, hands constantly moving. “Bring you both home.”
He ducked his head and bit the round of Dean’s shoulder.
Dean’s breath rushed out in a gush, his hips shooting forward deep and hard.
Brenda keened, shrill and loud, her entire body seizing up. Dean pulled back
and slammed in again, body stilling. And through it all Sam kissed Dean’s back
and stroked his chest. The last thing Brenda saw before the tsunami pulled her
under was Sam pressing a loving kiss to Dean’s neck.
 
*****
 
She roused, but kept her eyes closed enjoying the warmth of the two long lines
of muscle bracketing her body. Gentle fingers smoothed down her sides while
another set carded through her hair. The heater under the window clicked on and
the first blast of air it belched out was cold, chilling her damp skin. She
frowned, squirming in embarrassment however misplaced, at the realization that
the brothers had cleaned her up.
“Sshhh,” Dean soothed and the hand in her hair scratched her scalp lightly as
the sheet was pulled over her body. Brenda settled and let the motion lull her
back to sleep.
“Dude, you owe me another five bucks. She was out like five minutes.”
 
*****
Brenda squinted her eyes and parted her eyelids a fraction of an inch,
disappointed to be alone in the bed. It was dark, the full moon light filtering
through the tacky sienna curtains cast the room in a pale sepia tone. There was
a creak and a muted sigh and she looked over at the other bed.
Sam lay on his back, Dean between his parted thighs, his long legs circling
Dean’s hips. His hands roved endlessly over Dean’s back, up and down the strong
muscled expanse and over his shoulders, reverential touches by worshipping
fingers. His face was soft, tender – chameleon eyes shining bright with
affection and adoration as they stared up at the man hovering over him.
Dean blanketed him, weight supported on the forearms bracketing Sam’s
shoulders. His body moved in a fluid line, back, hips and legs rolling in slow
waves of flesh, an unhurried ebb and flow. He shifted, balance resting solely
on his right arm, leaving his left hand free to caress down Sam’s face, so
gentle and intimate that Brenda’s pulse quickened.
The hand ghosted lower, cupping beneath Sam’s thigh and hitching it higher on
Dean’s waist. It remained there and Brenda found herself transfixed by Dean’s
thumb lovingly sweeping over the skin and fine hairs in slow arcs. Sam gasped
on the next swell and she pulled her eyes from that hypnotizing thumb to see
Sam tilt his head back on the pillow, face transformed in sheer joy, as his
fingers dug deep into the meat of Dean’s shoulders.
 Dean didn’t cry out in victory like he had with her, didn’t curl his lips up
at the edges into a smug smirk, just watched in awe before ducking his head to
the exposed skin of Sam’s neck to press achingly sweet kisses to the Adam’s
apple bobbing there, hips never faltering from the measured rocking. Dean
traced his nose along the underside of Sam’s jaw, nudging the sharp bone until
Sam heeded his urgings and dropped his mouth to his brother’s. The kiss was
paced and sensuous – a long make out session on a lazy Sunday – the only
betrayer of the primal feelings created by the rush and recede of their bodies
was the whitened tips of their fingers in the bruising grips on back and thigh.
The kiss broke and the boys rested their foreheads tighter, gazes locked and
panted breaths mingling.
Clarity hit as she watched them stare into each other’s souls – what she was
witnessing wasn’t two bodies meeting for mutual pleasure, but the reconnecting
of two halves of the same soul. It transcended the physical act into an
emotional communion. She’d experienced the power of these two elemental titans,
the destructive shake of Sam’s earthquake and the drowning flood of Dean’s
tsunami, but this was where land and sea met, waves rushing onto the shore,
wetting the sand to mud, combining the two into one. She felt her body ache,
the feeling not originating from between her legs like before but from her
heart. She now understood what Dean meant about some things being just for Sam.
Sure they’d had sex with her, but this, this whatever, they reserved only for
each other.
The intimacy fueled their passion, a hurricane wind transferring its energy to
the waves, and Dean’s body moved with the urgency it inspired crashing into Sam
with quick, sharp thrusts that punched gusted grunts from their lungs. The wave
broke on the beach, both forms locking up tight, muscles frozen in ecstasy, and
through it all they watched the other. Brenda felt saltwater slide down her
cheek at the expression on their faces – equal parts vulnerability and
security; hearts, minds and souls flayed open for the other to see but safe in
the knowledge that it didn’t make them less in the other’s eyes.
Dean collapsed forward onto Sam, head nestled into the crook of his brother’s
shoulder. Sam legs fell bonelessly to the bed and one hand came up to cradle
the back of Dean’s head while the other soothed the jittery muscles in Dean’s
back. Sam tilted his head down and dropped a chaste kiss to Dean’s sweaty
shoulder, the ‘love you’ whispered against the briny flesh floating to Brenda
like seafoam on an ocean breeze.
Dean leaned back and stared at Sam not like he hung the moon, but was the moon.
“Love you, too.” He brought his lips down to Sam’s.
Brenda closed her eyes unable to watch them so tender. She lay quietly,
pretended to sleep, and listened as they moved around the room. Her thoughts
were chaotic, a whirlwind of new concepts and changing beliefs. She’d learned a
lot in her time with the Winchesters. They’d delivered on her promise to help
her see the greatness – fucking awesomeness, she corrected – of sex, but they’d
taught her so much more.
By the time the door snicked closed and the rumble of Dean’s classic car
rattled the cheap picture frames on the walls, Brenda had come to a few
conclusions. First, she was quitting Lasting Love Forever. Her decision had
little to do with how wonderful Dean and Sam had felt on and in her, though she
could concede that it was probably a valid reason. No, it had more to do with
the new perspective she had on their mission statement. She still believed that
love should be forever, more so now that she’d seen what true love looked like,
she just knew that love and sex weren’t the same thing. Her body could still
have fun while her heart searched for its match.
Second, she was going to see where exactly on the Kinsey scale her sweet,
little Jonah fell. If he was too far, there was always his friend, Adam.
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