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exsequar

Snagged from the awesome

winterlive, whom I prompted to write Dean's birthday porn and she DID and it's FANTASTIC:

yin_again had the best idea: Porn it Forward.

The first person to respond to this entry with a prompt gets a little off-the-cuff porn. The rest of you writers out there post the same call in your journals, and we make a lot of porn for a rainy Friday-before-the-holiday. It's what they call a win-win scenario.

So, first person up - prompt of your choice. And don't forget to Porn It Forward.

Now, I have no idea how successful I'll be at doing this. But hey, I'll give it a try! (Sam/Dean or Jared/Jensen prompts only, pretty please :))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

exsequar.livejournal.com

"Yeah, Dean, yeah, c'mon. Fuck me." Sam's voice was pure sin, slipsliding over Dean's skin, and Dean fell forward, bracing himself on his hands on either side of Sam's shoulders. Sam surged up and kissed Dean roughly, teeth and tongue, and Dean finally let himself go, setting a fast, urgent rhythm, crashing roughly into Sam with every thrust. Sam lifted his hips to meet Dean each time, their movements coming into an easy synchronicity that spoke to their mutual familiarity. Dean knew what every sound Sam made meant, knew every gasp and whimper, knew that this was overloading every circuit Sam had, and it made him light headed knowing that he could do this to Sam. He felt himself approaching the edge, the friction of Sam's cock inside him sparking waves of sensation to every nerve ending. Sam was helpless underneath him, tossing his head from side to side, sweat soaked hair plastered to his temples. Dean suddenly needed Sam's hand on him.

"Sam... Sam, please," he managed between deep gasps of air, hoping Sam would understand the lust-jumbled plea. Dean felt Sam's large hand grasp his painfully hard cock, and that was it - orgasm ripped through him, like flames rushing along his veins, and he came all over Sam's chest. Every muscle in his body contracted, squeezing Sam like a vise, and Sam followed him over the edge, ramming his hips upwards as he exploded deep inside Dean, crying out Dean's name in the midst of an incoherent babble of fuck and yesgodyes. Dean rode out Sam's climax, wracked with the aftershocks of his own, drinking in the sight of Sam completely letting go, endless throat fully exposed, brow deeply furrowed with pleasure. His elbows trembled and he let himself fall forward, gently sliding himself off Sam's cock and pressing his sweat-slicked torso against Sam's own. Sam huffed out a small laugh, reaching up to stroke his fingers gently down Dean's back.

"What's so funny, Sammy?" Dean's voice was raw, fucked-out. He pressed a messy kiss to Sam's collar bone.

Sam's fingertips traced whorls in the sweat glistening on Dean's skin. "Mm. Merry Christmas, Dean."

Dean blinked. He'd completely forgotten. "Well. That might just be the best Christmas present I've ever gotten." He paused, then smirked. "Would it be greedy to ask Santa for another go?"