Supernatural: Change of Plan

This story uses the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester from the Supernatural TV series. I do not own these characters (damn, but I wish I did!).

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Ruefully Dean tugged at the handcuffs neatly chaining him to the pipe. When was he gonna get smart and start carrying paperclips?

He could see Sam sitting with his hands cuffed behind him around a pole, his head forward on his chest.

"Sam? Sammy, wake up."

He was rewarded with a low groan as Sam slowly raised his head to display a swollen eye and cut cheek.

"Are you OK?"

"Uhh, yeah. I'm great." Sam moved his shoulders, testing his range of movement, trying to get more comfortable. "Guess the plan didn't quite come off, huh?"

Dean grimaced and, turning away, something caught his eye. A woman was standing, leaning on the wall, watching them.

He immediately registered a number of things: she was stacked, she was breathing hard, she was nibbling her bottom lip and one hand was hidden under her skirt. The police uniform, however, was a bit of a turn off, even if it did show off her curves magnificently.

Dean watched in slack jawed amazement as she brought her hand out from under the skirt, pushed away from the wall and undulated past him to stop in front of Sam.

"I've been waiting for you to wake up, Sam Winchester." Startled, Sam looked straight up into her face. She smiled lazily and leaned forward from the hips, her breasts straining the front of her shirt, to kiss Sam's lips.

His eyes opened wide as she took his head in her hands to hold it steady while she forced her tongue into his mouth, dropping to her knees, straddling his thighs and pressing her boobs into his chest.

Sam tore his mouth free. "What do you want?" he gasped. Dean rolled his eyes. Only Sammy could ask such a monumentally obvious question. Sometimes it was an embarrassment having a brother.

"You," she breathed in his ear as she nibbled the lobe and began nuzzling and licking his neck, while undoing the buttons on his shirt and caressing his chest and teasing his nipples with her fingernails. "Don't be shy now." Her mouth arrived at his nipple and her hands continued south to his belt buckle.

Sam bucked and strained at the handcuffs. Dean could see the warring emotions on his brother's face as he gasped, fighting to retain control against the onslaught of sensation that was rapidly building within him.

His body was trembling as she licked and kissed her way down his chest, lapping his belly button and continuing down to her goal, licking along its length.

Sam tried to think of the routine for stripping a 9mm Browning as her tongue made lazy circuits and her fingers squeezed and stroked his balls. Her other hand had disappeared between her own thighs again.

As her mouth closed over him, he moaned, throwing his head back, his hips jerked and the thought was lost.

She felt the change in him, his hips now eagerly thrusting into her mouth. Raising her head, she looked into his hungry face and smiled. Then she climbed up to kiss him again, while stroking him with her free hand. This time he eagerly returned the kiss, his tongue twining with hers, his body straining forward to make contact with hers.

"The cuffs," he gasped. "Please, undo the cuffs. Let me touch you." His mouth slid from hers and across her neck, kissing, licking and sucking at her as best he could.

Playfully she leaned away, out of his reach, but still caressing him, making his hips jerk and his chest convulse as he hitched and gasped. She licked her bottom lip, lightly bit down on it and, in one smooth move, sat down, guiding him into her.

He quivered and moaned at the feel of her, again straining at the cuffs on his wrists.

With one hand on his shoulder for balance and the other teasing his nipples, she rode him, grinning as he gasped and his hips moved under her, grinding herself harder and harder against him.

"I can't," he gasped. "Please." His eyes were screwed tight, his mouth open as he sucked in air. His hips convulsed, she felt him jerk and thrust as he cried out.

He shuddered under her and was still.

Now it was her turn to moan and sigh. Her eyes were half-closed and her hand had returned to move faster under the skirt. Sam, still breathing hard, bent his head, straining to reach her breast. "I can help you."

She paused, panting. Then studied his face, focus flicking from one eye to the other and back again.

With a convulsive jerk she leaned forward around Sam's hip. Her hands shook, but she managed to insert the key and unlock one handcuff. Immediately the arm attached to that hand snaked around her body, squeezed her arse and slid in between her thighs. She shuddered at his touch as he stroked across her wet centre, then moaned again in frustration as he pulled away.

His hands went to work on her buttons, the shirt falling open to reveal a front opening bra, which also fell open in double time as Sam freed the breasts beneath only to immediately imprison one between his lips.

Gently he lifted her off his legs and down onto her back. She sighed, closing her eyes and opening her knees as his hand returned between her legs and he slid first one, then two long fingers into her. Eagerly she received them, her hips making little thrusting moves against his hand, his thumb making circuits of her clit.

His other hand returned to her waist and the utility belt there; seeking, finding and deftly removing one item, while his mouth sucked and teased her breast, his teeth scraping across the nipple.

She moaned and writhed at his touch, unaware of anything else. Her hands caught in his hair and she ground herself onto his hand, making it harder for him to find the lock on the handcuff that still dangled from his wrist. Mission accomplished, he ran his mouth down her body, tickling her belly with his tongue on the way, until he reached her throbbing clit. Lightly he breathed over it, ran his tongue around it, making her breath falter and her hips twitch, before taking it into his mouth and sucking hard.

She screamed in release, bucking hard, the muscles clenching and releasing around his fingers as he withdrew them.

Before she could recover, Sam grabbed her hands and pulled them above her head, around the pole, and snapped the cuffs on her wrists. He scooted over to Dean and unlocked the cuffs holding him prisoner.

Dean's eyes were dark, his breathing uneven and his jeans uncomfortably tight as he tore his eyes from the woman on the floor to scout the quickest exit. "Dude!"

Sam shrugged, zipping his jeans. "What can I say, man? Sometimes you just gotta take one for the team."

Please take a moment to vote and comment on this if you enjoyed it (or even if you didn't). The only way I know if it's any good is from votes and feedback.

If you enjoyed this little Winchester romp, there's a couple more hiding amongst my other submissions.