The motel isn’t like any place she’s been before; with John they never went to places like this, hiding out in her childhood bedroom, or in John’s apartment. Here, with her boys, she wonders what it must have been like growing up like this, with nothing of their own. She wonders what it was like for them to grow up without her, without a home, and it hits her so hard she has to remind herself to breathe.
Turning from the window, Sam is down to just his boxers, back to her as he lays salt along the seam of the floor and the door. There is a ridged scar along his spine toward his lower back, and she wonders what happened, and knows it’s better not to ask. Sam continues to safeguard their room as Dean wanders out of the bathroom, he too only in boxers; she finds herself looking for scars like Sam’s, but what she can find is minute and she knows once again that she shouldn’t ask about the difference.
Dean notices her first, looking between them like they’re something foreign, and asks her if she’s ok. She wants to tell him that she’s perfectly fine, and everything is swell, but the truth is that would be a total lie. Here she is, with two sons that she hasn’t given birth to yet, and she’s falling helplessly in love with both of them.
“Mom?” Sam asks, coming to her side, and the look of concern on his face is exactly the same as John’s. For one split second she thinks this might have been a mistake, but she pushes it down as quickly as it came, and stands on her tip toes to press her lips to Sam.
“I’m good, baby,” she says softly when she pulls back.
Sam looks at her like she’s something special, like she’s anything more than just a woman and it makes her heart try to break out of her chest. She sees the moment of recognition in his eyes when he realizes she doesn’t want to talk about this, and he kisses her. In the short amount of time she’s had them, she’s noticed that Sam always kisses like he’s dying, like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, and it makes her blood sing hot in her veins. In a moment, Dean’s there, hand on her back, warm through the thin material of her tee-shirt, and his other hand sliding between them to rest against her stomach. Behind her, Sam’s fingers lace with Dean’s at the small of her back and she can feel them both getting hard – Sam against her stomach and Dean against her hip.
Without words they maneuver her back a step and get her tee-shirt off, and Dean makes quick work of her bra before she has a chance to do anything, and Sam is unbuttoning and pulling the zipper down on her jeans. She looks at each of them and lets Dean steady her while Sam pulls her jeans down – and panties – and she steps out of them.
When Sam stands back up it’s almost comical to see the way his cock tents his boxers; he’s bigger than John, and Dean is too, but not by as much. She watches as Sam pushes his boxers down, and before really thinking she sinks down to her knees, and licks the head of his cock. Sam gasps and she can hear Dean shuffling behind her as he takes off his boxers, too.
“Mom, please…” Sam begs and she smiles at him.
Dean gathers her hair, and pulls it back so he can see, and Sam rests his hand at the back of her head as she sucks him down. It’s hard to get all of his length in, hard not to gag when he hits the back of her throat a little harder than she intended.
“Jesus Christ,” Dean says quietly, hand tightening marginally in her hair. If she is honest with herself, she wishes Dean would pull harder, push her forward, and in a moment of clarity she doesn’t see why she shouldn’t tell him that.
She pulls back from Sam’s cock, a string of spit and pre-come dangling from her mouth to his cock; she licks her lips and it disappears. “You pull harder,” she tells Dean. She looks up at Sam, and his eyes are clouded with lust, his lids heavy with desire. “You fuck my mouth,” she says to Sam.
They both groan, almost in unison, and she feels Dean yank hard on her hair, pulling her head back, and she feels the heat pool between her legs. Sam puts a hand on her chin, tipping her head the way he wants; with one hand on his cock, he pushes it past her lips. She groans around his thick length and he gasps loud.
“Fuck Mom,” Dean says, tightening his fist in her hair so hard it makes her eyes water – that and the fact that Sam is so big it’s hard to breathe around his dick. She does her best, spit pooling in the corners of her mouth and starting to drip, Sam thrusting in and out of her mouth, gasping and moaning, and she can hear Dean jacking his cock slowly with his free hand.
“Stop,” Sam says, grasping the base of his cock and pulling back. She swallows hard, throat sore, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “I don’t want to come yet.”
Mary nods, and Dean moves away, to the duffel bags to get condoms while Sam catches his breath and she gets off of her knees. There are indentations of the carpet pattern on her bare skin, and she doesn’t care, she just wants them both. Dean throws a condom to Sam, and Dean lays back against the pillows as he tears the foil packet and rolls the condom down over his dick, stroking a few times before he beckons her. She starts to move and then stops, turning to Sam.
“You too,” she says and then looks back at Dean. “I want you both.”
“Mom…” Dean is ready to protest, she can see it in his face, but she’s not a porcelain doll; she isn’t fragile and she won’t break.
“You have lube?” She asks, turning to Sam again; his mouth is open – not sure if it’s in awe or surprise – and he nods.
“I… Yeah,” he says. “In my bag.” No doubt for when they’re taking turns fucking each other while she’s too fucked out to notice.
She goes over to Sam’s bag, fully aware that she’s totally naked as she walks across the room, and she doesn’t feel self conscious. She bends over, fully aware she’s putting on a show, and smiles to herself as she roots through Sam’s bag for lubricant as they both groan. She comes up victorious and throws the lubricant to Dean. When she turns back to Sam he’s about to rip the condom packet open.
“Wait,” she says and he stops. “Not yet. I can’t…” she finally blushes a little. “You’re too big for me to… I’ve never had anal sex, and Sammy, I can’t take you.” Dean chuckles from behind her, like its some kind of inside joke before she remembers that he takes Sam all the time; she can’t imagine what it must feel like, and shivers. “I want to, just…not this time.”
“What do you want me to do?” Sam asks.
“I want you to fuck Dean while he’s getting me ready,” she says and swears that they both almost choke. “Can you do that for me?”
“God, yes,” Dean says before Sam has the chance.
Sam nods and follows her over to Dean; he moves from his spot and lays her down. Dean kisses are something to be born and die for; he’s soft and tender where Sam isn’t, makes her feel like she is the only person in his world. He kisses her neck, biting at the junction of her neck and shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise that she’ll wear proudly for a week; he pauses to kiss each breast, lave attention on each peaked nipple with his lips and tongue and teeth before moving down. Her stomach muscles jerk when his tongue dips into her bellybutton, and then lower. This is something John never did, and she’s not sure what to expect, but she doesn’t expect it to feel as good as it does. She pulls so hard on Dean’s hair she thinks she may have ripped some out, and her throat is raw from Sam’s cock so the shout coming from her actually hurts.
“Easy,” Dean says softly. “Dad never did this for you?” He asks, looking up at her and she shakes her head; Dean’s answering smile is almost feral. He goes back, tongue working into her slit, fingers sliding up into her, and her breath stutters out of her. Behind him, Sam is squirting a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and reaching for Dean’s ass; she knows the moment Sam fingers breach his brother because Dean jerks against her, lifting his face and resting it against her thigh. “Ah, fuck, Sammy…”
It doesn’t sound like he’s in pain, and he must not be, because he goes back to work, licking her and sucking at her clit until she’s almost ready to come, and it stops suddenly. He lifts his head to look at her and she can feel his slick fingers sliding lower, lower until he’s pushing at her ass. “Just breathe,” he tells her softly, so she does. It’s almost painful at first, just one of Dean’s fingers in her ass, but not something she can’t get used to. He works slowly, pausing to add more lube to his fingers; she missed when Sam passed to tube on, but glance up and she sees Sam is slicking his cock and he smiles at her.
Dean grunts first, and then moans low in his throat once Sam’s cock is in him, working his fingers in her ass a little quicker. For a minute she’s scared she can’t do this; Dean isn’t exactly small or average, but he’s the less of the two of them, and still she doesn’t know now if she can take him. He pushes a third finger into her and it’s a tight fit; his cock is bigger around than that and it makes her breath come faster, afraid that after all this her plans might fall through. So she closes her eyes; she listens to the wet sounds of Sam fucking Dean, the harsh panting of his breath, and Dean’s moans while Dean loosens her up. She can do this, she decides; no matter what, she can do this – for her boys, for herself – she can do this for them and it will be good.
“Don’t come,” she says to Sam and he slows his thrusts. “Please don’t come yet; want you in me, Sammy.”
“Jesus, Mom,” he says softly, pulling out of Dean and grabbing the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm. He rests his forehead on Dean’s lower back and just breathes for a minute. Sam scoots back when Dean sits up.
“You think you’re ready?” He asks her, and she wants to laugh, say absolutely not, but she won’t.
“Yeah,” she whispers.
Sam climbs off of the bed and picks up the condom again from the bedside table; the sound of him tearing the foil is absurdly loud in the suddenly quiet room. She watches him roll it onto his dick and stroke slowly two or three times before coming back to the bed. She’s never done this before, but she can figure out how it has to go, so she moves over, giving Sam her spot, warmed by her body.
He lies down against the pillows, hair damp at his temples and sticking to his forehead. “C’mere,” he says to her and she crawls over him, straddling his hips. She doesn’t wait, and sinks down on him, making him jerk against her and close his eyes. She sits still for a moment, getting used to the feel of him, and looks over her shoulder at Dean; he’s slicking his cock with lube. Sam thrusts shallowly a few times, making her breath catch, before Dean climbs up on the bed, straddling Sam’s thighs. “Lie forward,” Sam tells her, pulling her down and flush against his chest.
She jumps a little when she feels the tip of the condom, and ultimately Dean’s cock, against her hole; she’s nervous as hell. “Relax,” Dean says, placing a soothing hand at the small of her back. “Breathe out for me,” he says softly, and she does. She has to squeeze her eyes shut as Dean pushes in, past the resistance of the muscle, and God, does it fucking burn. She digs her fingers into Sam’s biceps and can feel her nails cutting into his skin.
“Easy; Relax, Mom,” Dean says, and Sam starts soothingly stroking her hair. She relaxes marginally, enough for Dean to slide in another inch or two.
“So good, baby,” Sam whispers into her neck. “Feel so good around us.” He talks nonsense to her with soothing touches, until she realizes Dean is lying against her back – all the way inside.
“So full,” she says, eyes still closed. “God, feel so full with you both inside me.”
Dean kisses her neck, bites at her shoulder, and thrusts shallowly; it still burns, but it’s getting easier. And then Sam thrusts up, hitting something so deep inside that it sparks something in her, pure pleasure-pain that makes her cry out. They both hold her, keep her grounded to them as she starts to feel like she’s going to fly apart, thrusting almost in rhythm with each other. It’s almost too much, especially when Dean reaches around her and Sam between them and they both rub at her clit mercilessly.
“Come on,” Dean whispers to her. “Come on, Mom; want you to come for us.”
“Come so hard,” Sam adds, whispering too. “We’re gonna make you scream for us.”
She’s sweating, can feel it on her forehead and back as they thrust harder up into her, chasing her orgasm as well as their own. “Oh, God, I can’t…” she says, thankful that Dean moved a few inches so she could toss her head back. She felt like she was drowning, burning up, suffocating and being reborn all at once. She could feel herself screaming, jerking between them both, orgasm so powerful, so strong she thought she was going to die, stop breathing and collapse between them. But they held her up like they always do.
“Fuck,” Sam whimpered, thrusting hard and fast, hands tangling in her hair as his orgasm tore out of him and he held her so Dean could finish. She wasn’t sure she could speak, but she tried.
“Please,” she whispered hoarsely to Dean. “Come on, baby, want you to come, too.”
“Want me to come inside you, Mom?” He said.
“Want you to come on me,” she answered. “Wanna feel you come all over me, baby.”
Sam whimpered under her and Dean thrust hard and fast, until he pulled out too quick, making her wince. She could hear him strip off the condom, could hear him jacking his cock so hard and fast it had to border on painful, and then he was groaning, long and loud. The first splash of come on her ass made her shiver; it was so hot, and it was Dean.
When he was finished he leaned down, kissing her shoulder and smearing his own mess between them. He helped her roll to the side and held her while Sam stripped off his condom and tossed it aside. When Sam turned back she could see splatter of Dean’s come on his legs and had to fight the urge to lean forward and lick it off, mostly because she didn’t think she could move.
Sam lay down on his side, facing her, and Dean spoons up behind her. Dean kisses her neck and Sam kisses her forehead as they lace their fingers over her naked hip.
Here, between them, she’s happy.