The Apocolypse Is Upon Us (better write some pr0n)

Threesome porn! [Or meta-porn if you believe my beta.]
Supernatural, John Winchester, Twins
Rating: Nc17, of course
Summary: Bobby imagines how John works off post-hunt steam.

John halted at the door and Bobby almost stumbled into him as the smell of the joint hit the men like a brick wall. With Christmas just around the corner, it had been weeks since the bar had aired out the stench of smoke, spilled booze, sweaty bodies and, the closer they got to the back corner where two doors had stallions and fillies scrawled over the top in white paint, vomit and piss. Sad looking gold tinsel twined its wilted way around the hanging pool table lights. Elvis belted out Blue Christmas from the vintage jukebox (with duct tape sealing cracked plastic) near the bar.

“Whose idea was this place?” Bobby shouldered his companion as they sat at the bar and pulled the bill of his cap down lower.

“Yours.” John’s nose wrinkled and his eyes squinted through the smoke, but it didn’t stop him from shrugging out of his coat and pulling out a bar stool.

John’d showed up at Bobby’s the week before, asking for assistance with a hunt in Minnesota. Bobby knew better than ask him why he was alone, or where Dean was. It was the first time he’d seen John since Sam left for Stanford and there was no way he wanted to wade into that mine field.

John cocked his head and turned to face Bobby, then let his eyes scan around the room without moving. “It ain’t that bad. We’ve both seen worse. Hell, the Roadhouse ain’t much more’n this.” He flexed his fingers, opening and closing his hands, then motioned for the bartender.

Bobby would content himself with a couple of beers, perhaps some whiskey, then head home to his place two hours down the road. Maybe it’d been a good idea after all not to invite John back for a visit. The last time they’d shared a roof, the two men damned near killed each other, and John was itching tonight. Bobby watched him rub his hand back and forth across the nape of his neck, trying to hide the fact that he was scoping out the joint. Yep, Winchester needed something to work out the stink. Adrenaline smelled like ozone and wet leather, and tonight John Winchester reeked of it. Maybe he’d hang around just a bit to get John’s back. Just in case.

Their beers and whiskey appeared, along with two shots of tequila, a shaker of salt, no lime. John quirked a brow at the barman who just jerked his head to the right where two figures sat, deep in conversation, oblivious to John and Bobby for all practical purposes. Bobby frowned. Then frowned some more when two heads turned as one, revealing their benefactors to be two women of indeterminate age or beauty in the dim light at the end of the bar.

Bobby was surprised when John huffed a quiet chuckle, turned his stool to face the girls, holding the glass up until he’d caught their attention before throwing it back and licking his lips.

One shifted so that the lamp behind the bar caught high cheek bones, full lips and cat-tilted eyes of a dark nature. Her companion seemed to look very similar. Almost identical, actually. Bobby heard John mumble, “Christo,” but no one flinched.

Bobby just sat facing the bar, propped on his elbows, glass still held between two fingers. “Fight woulda done you more good,” Bobby grumbled before pouring the contents of the shot glass into his mouth, swishing it around for a few seconds before swallowing.

By the time Bobby gave up and called it a night, John was on his fifth shot and the girls flanking his bar stool were obviously wanting to do more than drink. They reminded Bobby of predators, even if they weren’t demons. But John Winchester was nobody’s fool. He was a big boy and knew how to handle himself, Bobby presumed, in the bedroom as well as the hunting grounds.

While Bobby stood back to let a couple of patrons enter before he could exit, the sight of John, his arms around the waist of each girl, voice rumbling low as he said something to the one leaning over so that her ear almost touched his lips and her dark hair fell along the side of his face, sent something shooting through Bobby, landing smack dab below his waist. He’d turned down their offer to join the party, but that didn’t mean he was a frickin’ monk.

***

It had always been his habit to use the drive home after a hunt to replay the action, mentally cataloging and noting what went right, and what went wrong. Keeping things fresh in his mind made it easier for Bobby to update his journal once he was safe at the house. Instead of witches and curses, however, his thoughts kept drifting back to the bar. He wondered if John was still there with the twin vixens. Bobby was pretty certain John didn’t get much action. Winchester was devoted to his sons and the hunt, and sometimes it wasn’t clear which had priority. With Sam gone, in school in California, and Dean heading out on his own more and more (at John’s prompting), maybe he would lighten up a bit. Somehow Bobby doubted it. He’d probably be just as intense with those two as he’d been the day before facing down the Twitchslip Witch.

There was nothing but starlight and a sliver of moon illuminating the yard when Bobby got home. He brought wood in and twenty minutes later had a fire blazing while he locked up and toed off his boots. Bobby settled in his favorite ratty, dog-shredded recliner next to warm skin-licking flames with a tumbler of Maker’s and thought maybe he was getting old when this was preferable to staying out with John to share the action.

***

“I like the rough look, don’t you Kitty?” Lynn sidled closer, letting her arm slide across the back of John’s shoulders before tugging playfully at the dark curls at the nape of his neck.

Kitty raised a well-shaped hand to John’s face, letting the tips of blunt fingers brush along two days growth of beard. Neither woman was model-beautiful, but their identical pale faces, framed by straight, dark hair falling just below the shoulders certainly posed a striking picture. And eyes that had appeared dark from the other end of the bar, turned into a very deep blue, fringed by sooty lashes and thickly shaped, but well-trimmed black brows. And although they were of average height and build, both women moved with a predatory feline grace as they approached John’s barstool. Soft well-washed cotton shirt-tails tucked neatly into faded, frayed (very tight) jeans and scuffed up riding boots did nothing to detract from the fact that they were most certainly female.

“The rougher the better,” Kitty purred like her namesake, then arched into John, letting one breast brush against John’s bicep, which tensed automatically at her touch.

But it was looking like John wasn’t ready to close the deal. Maybe he was thinking of the perils of letting his guard down, regardless of how innocent they may seem. Innocent? Who was he kidding? Or maybe he didn’t think he deserved even a few moments of a woman’s touch. It’d be just like him. So, he politely removed Lynn’s hand from his shoulder before reaching around Kitty for his discarded coat.

“I appreciate the attention, ladies, but it’s been a really long, really rough day.” Twin dimples in John’s cheeks deepened as he tried to soften the rejection.

It wasn’t going to be that easy.

“Like we said,” Lynn laid her hand on John’s holding his jacket, “we like rough.”

As strong a man as John liked to think himself, there was only so much he was willing to fight. Kitty had slid up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist and John felt her full breasts smashed against his back before swinging around in one smooth move to face her, bright eyes flashing and lips shiny wet.

“We have a room.” Her voice didn’t plead, but John got the feeling she’d be very upset if he turned them down. His dick really hated the idea of that, too. The rest of him finally got with the program, as well, but not without giving the girls fair warning of what they were getting.

“I guess we’re going, then.” John slipped into his coat, held the girls’ jackets for them and they walked single file out the door. When they got to the truck, John whirled around and grabbed a hold of Lynn, who’d been right on his heels. He leaned back against the black metal and yanked her to him, his hands gripping her arms like steel as he fell on her mouth like a starving animal.

He heard Kitty gasp and maybe a tiny squeak escaped before he released one of Lynn’s arms and reached out, without breaking the kiss, grabbed Kitty by the belt loop and tugged. John finally released Lynn’s mouth and let her catch her breath.

“I’m not one of your doughy cowboys in there.” John waved a hand toward the bar. “And I’m not in the mood for gentle. Just thought you gals oughta know what you’re getting tonight.”

Kitty didn’t look so spooked anymore and Lynn was limp in his arms. “I guess we’ve been warned, then…cowboy.” Kitty taunted and stepped into the warmth of the other two bodies and pulled John’s head down, licking at his mouth before their lips even touched.

*****

The room they led John into was just like a hundred other motel rooms he’d shared with his boys in the past. Lately, he’d had them all to himself and he found the fact that he and the girls had to do a little dance for all three of them to move around in this one slightly comforting.

Kitty, or maybe Lynn, turned on the bathroom light and left the door half ajar, keeping the bedroom dim and a little less tacky. John inhaled deep, not remembering the last time he smelled perfume, delicate lacy underthings laying on the floor, and plain simple girl. They only gave him a moment to appreciate the setting before flanking the bed and starting to strip.

Lynn slipped her boot cut jeans off, leaving a lot of leg showing above the tops of her boots. Light pink cotton bikini panties peaked from the hem as she began flicking the tiny white plastic buttons, one by one, from their holes in her shirt. She wore a matching pink bra. John flicked his tongue out, wetting his bottom lip, sweeping his gaze up and down Lynn’s body. There was something incredibly hot about a woman wearing nothing but underwear and boots.

Kitty wasn’t nearly so discrete. She toed off her boots first, then shimmied out of the tight jeans she wore, pulled at the top of her shirt and let each button pop pop pop like snaps until they lay on the floor around her. Unlike her sister, she wore neither bra nor panties.

While Lynn reclined, one booted heel dug into the bedspread, Kitty climbed up and crawled toward John at the foot of the bed. “You’re overdressed.” She raised up to kneel in front of him and proceeded to try to remedy the situation. John’s larger hands covered hers at his belt, pulled them out and around her body, holding both in one of his just above the swell of her ass. His weight sunk into the soft mattress while he knee-walked her back and backward until he had her laid out beside her twin, hands still trapped between her back and the bed.

“I’m just fine for now, Sweetheart.”

John’s belt buckle dug into Kitty’s pale skin and her legs automatically spread when he rocked into her thigh and she felt the steel hardness of his erection. Putting up a token struggle to free her arms, Kitty pouted sweetly.

Lynn rolled to her side and reached over to kiss and lick around John’s ear, pulling the lobe into her mouth and between her teeth, tugging lightly. John could smell her, all sweet and hot and musky. He turned his head just enough and they kissed again, just like back at the truck. Deep, dirty and sloppy. When a rustle and quiet moan from Kitty drew his attention back to the girl beneath him, John leaned back enough to let her wriggle her hands free before cupping the back of her head with his left hand. With the other, he fondled Lynn’s face, thumb scraping along her jaw, before pulling her toward her sister, his intent obvious.

Lynn’s full lips curved in understanding and she leaned over, tentatively nosing at Kitty’s cheek, letting her lips just barely brush against her sister’s. John curled his fingers into Lynn’s thick hair, let his left hand skim down from Kitty’s neck to trail along her neck and shoulders, spurring the girls on to a deeper kiss.

They didn’t stop when John scooted back down to the foot of the bed and began undressing. He approved of the show they were putting on for him and he found his fingers fumbling clumsily on his shirt buttons. Once his shirt lay on the floor and he began working at his belt, the girls moved as one again, each crawling to his side.

“Let us help,” Kitty whispered and her deft fingers made short work of the buckle while licking a path from his collarbone down to one brown nipple, already tightened in anticipation. Lynn worked the other side with capable hands and mouth that had John panting by the time Kitty was pulling the zipper of his jeans down, releasing some of the pressure within. He became suddenly and acutely aware of the fact that he’d not showered since he and Bobby left on the hunt two days ago. He could smell himself, not so much unpleasant as simply earthier and stronger than usual.

“Slow down, girls,” John grunted as Lynn removed first one boot then the other, letting Kitty work his pants over his feet. “How about a bit of good, clean fun in the shower first?”

John could have sworn he heard a snort from Kitty, but her hair was hiding her face while she concentrated on tickling the backs of his knees with her fingernails. Lynn was more forthcoming. “We’ll get there, cowboy.” And before he could respond, Lynn was back attacking his mouth with a sensuous vigor John let himself sink into.

The tickling sensation along his legs had been replaced with Kitty’s tongue as she licked and nipped at the inside of his thighs and John tried to close his legs, once more conscious of his less than pristine state. But, his body wasn’t so eager to stop Kitty’s journey up his legs that culminated with her tongue teasing the head of his dick, flicking in and out of the slit that was already heated and moist. John resigned himself to the sister’s ministrations and relaxed his legs, letting them fall open, allowing Kitty to scoot up between them. Lynn settled half across John’s chest, bathing him with her tongue, humming appreciation vibrating along his skin.

His first orgasm came quickly, with little warning. At some point his hand had wrapped itself in Kitty’s hair, holding her head down while he fucked her mouth and couldn’t remember why he’d wanted to stop in the first place. A grunt, hitch of his hips, and a slight tightening of his stomach was all the warning John gave her and she gamely swallowed it all. A second wave swam by when Lynn bit down hard on one nipple while rolling and pinching the other between nimble fingers.

While John was still catching his breath, watching Kitty through half-closed eyes while she licked her lips and relaxed her chin on his thigh, Lynn stood and removed her underwear. She stepped across John’s prone form and sat across his lap. Kitty copied her pose, sitting behind Lynn, her arms wrapped around her sister to rest lightly on Lynn’s thighs.

“Who wants clean fun when you can have this?” Lynn’s mouth turned up into an impish grin. “But, I think we can move the party into the shower if you’re still up for it.” Her eyebrow cocked in challenge.

John smirked and answered her in kind. With one smooth heave, he bucked the girls off, sending them tumbling to either side of him before he stood, naked and still half hard. Kitty and Lynn lay on the floor raking his body with their eyes hungrily, but not touching. He’d made his point without uttering a word.

John strode to the bathroom and started the shower water to heat. Bare feet padded up behind him and only glanced over his shoulder as he stepped into the tiled enclosure, grabbing the soap and starting an efficient scrub of his body. The hot water and clean feeling felt almost as good as the orgasm.

Kitty took the soap from his hands when he was done washing his hair and began to lather his back while Lynn stepped in front of John, not even bothering to close the curtain behind her. No one noticed or cared about the water running along the uneven floor of the hotel bathroom.

John’s mouth closed over Lynn’s and he’d figured out he could tell the twins apart now by the way they tasted. There was an underlying sweetness in Kitty that her sister lacked. Not that the flavor of Lynn was unpleasant, not at all. John couldn’t really put his finger on it, but Lynn was earthy and tasted like new spring, while her sister was lighter, more summery. Regardless, both women knew how to use their mouths and John was enjoying the benefit of their attention more than he would have thought.

Lynn’s slippery body shimmied against John and he felt his dick nuzzle into the top edge of dark bush. She leaned her head back and offered him her throat while she clung onto his arms. John leaned in and bit where neck and shoulder joined. Scraped his beard along the tender skin below her ear, and pressed his palms into the soft swell of each breast, massaging and teasing.

He had barely paid attention to Kitty kneeling behind him until he realized she was nudging his legs apart and he raised his foot to the edge of the tub without even thinking. That is, until the feel of Kitty’s tongue, pointed and hot rooted between his cheeks, flicking over and around some very sensitive skin.

“Guh.” John stopped chewing on Lynn’s ear and his eyes popped open, but the next swipe of Kitty’s tongue dissolved the words off his tongue like sugar. He stared down into Lynn’s smoldering expression of bliss, then closed his eyes again when she pulled him down for more mouth pillaging. He needed…his dick needed…the memory of hot, tight and wet was like a flash flood of desire and all of a sudden he just couldn’t get Lynn turned around fast enough.

Somehow the water got turned off. Kitty was on her feet, helping Lynn step over the tub. John took those few seconds to catch his breath and appreciate the view of the two dripping wet, very curvaceous bodies before him. Kitty placed her hand in John’s and tugged. He noticed her other hand laying almost possessively on Lynn’s back. And Lynn… Lynn had her back to John, the long lines of pale skin interrupted by the ridges of her spine. Her hands braced just above her head over the sink and she was looking at John over her shoulder as if she’d read his mind. She was offering him just what he’d been craving.

Kitty’s hand slid down Lynn’s spine, caressing over the high curve of her ass before she leaned in and kissed her sister in a way that spoke of love and desire and possession. Higher brain function seemed impossible, so John just went with the flow, as he’d been doing all night. He stepped up behind Lynn and pushed his dick down with two fingers and slipped between her thighs. And although she was still damp from the shower, there was a different kind of wetness between her legs. Hot and slick and beckoning to him. He ached to move just the little bit required to enter her, but this wasn’t how he wanted it — not how he wanted them.

With an effort he stepped back and pulled Lynn back against him, whispering in her ear. “I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I’m too old for sex against the sink when I can have it in a nice, soft bed.” Kitty smiled, Lynn chuckled and the three moved back to the bedroom.

John could feel the heat of their bodies as they walked the few steps necessary to the bed. He wrapped an arm around Kitty’s waist, swinging her around until her knees hit the side of the bed and she sprawled over the top of the spread, laughing with abandon. When Lynn crawled up to kneel beside her sister’s head John’s dick jerked hard against his belly.
“Fuck me first, John.” Kitty bent her left leg at the knee, spreading her thighs further, leaving no doubt how badly she wanted him. She canted her hips up in invitation and it occurred to John that he wasn’t exactly sure he could go more than once more. At least not tonight. Long dry spell or no, he wasn’t as young as he used to be.

With a silent promise to make it good for both of them, no matter what, John knelt between Kitty’s legs and caressed up her thighs, stopping with his thumbs in the crease of leg and body, massaging slow, gentle circles while pulling her open. When Lynn bent over Kitty and began kissing her breasts, laving each dusky nipple with her tongue, Kitty squirmed against John’s hands and he could no more stop himself from sliding into her than he could stop breathing.

John pulled her legs up high, letting them fall across his shoulders allowing him to go deeper. Kitty and Lynn were kissing again now, and John couldn’t tell which of the four hands interwoven between their bodies belonged to who. He concentrated on tamping down the climax that was slowly crawling up his spine. He tried to ignore how hot Kitty felt around his cock. He watched the girls intently, panting softly through his mouth and when Kitty’s hand snaked down Lynn’s body and disappeared between her legs, John had to close his eyes and concentrate on deep breaths and keeping control.

He smelled her first. The scent of aroused woman. His nostrils flared with sense memory. Without opening his eyes, he groaned and then Kitty’s fingers touched his lips and he sucked them into his mouth, moaning around the sweet taste. He lengthened his strokes, drawing almost out of Kitty, then slamming back, like he was reaching for something deep within her. John could tell she was close now, her breathless moans urging him on. He kept her fingers in his mouth, his teeth scraping across the knuckles and when he felt her muscles contract and quiver around him he sucked hard, feeling her fingernails against the roof of his mouth.

John fell over Kitty, supporting himself on stiff arms while he placed light kisses across her eyes, her nose and mouth, then turned to lick at Lynn’s breast which just happened to be at mouth level. Kitty was a sated bundle of bones and skin, but managed to wriggle out from under John before he could manage a coherent thought. That seemed to be just fine with Lynn who appeared to have her own ideas of what was next on the agenda. She rose up straighter on her knees and took John’s head between her wide hands, steering his face to her warm stomach. Kitty was lazily running a finger along his hard dick, occasionally circling him with her hand, but had to stop when Lynn laid back, pulling John with her. The slight pressure on his shoulders, pushing down — down to the source of her musky girl-scent and the sweet nectar he’d tasted on Kitty’s fingers was enough to let John drift into a half dream, half fantasy state, when Mary would hold his head between her legs while his tongue fucked her, trying to bring her even half of the pleasure she always gave him.

John buried his face in Lynn’s pussy. He allowed himself a second or two to just surround himself with her before sweeping the edge of her clit with his tongue, catching it gently between his lips to suckle on it. Lynn’s breath caught and John held her down at the hips in time to keep her from breaking his nose as she raised her whole body off the bed. When he looked up over her mound and the soft swell of belly, he could see Kitty laying curled around Lynn’s head, her hands lovingly stroking her sister’s body - breasts, shoulders, arms, then back up to throat and face.

Lynn grew wetter and John knew the lower half of his face was covered in her. He lapped and laved at Lynn, bringing her to the brink several times before finally stiffening his tongue and fucking her with it, three fingers buried as deeply inside as he could reach. When Lynn came, John felt as though he could too just from the sounds she was making. Kitty muffled her cries with kisses but John’s climax was already approaching and he knelt over Lynn, jacking himself hard and fast, his face twisted with lust. Lynn was still riding the waves of her orgasm when John shot thick, creamy ropes across her stomach and breasts, feeling like he’d just exploded from the inside out.

When he walked backwards on his knees till he could stand beside the bed, letting the shakiness ease before he tried to actually move anymore, Kitty was already licking at the stuff on her twin’s body like it was the best sweet cream in the world. She glanced up at John, her pink tongue still dipped into a puddle of come and smiled before running her hands down the length of Lynn’s body. John was just starting to think he could move without his knees buckling when the two girls finally stilled in a heap, curled around each other. Lynn reached up a hand, but it was more an acknowledgment of thanks than a beckon for him to return to their bed.

By the time John was stepping into his jeans, they were already falling asleep. He slid socked feet into his boots, grabbed his shirt and jacket and stepped outside, shirtless, in the frigid night. The universe was eerily silent and the street lights glowed amber behind the light dusting of snowflakes falling. The air felt good on his skin and John rolled his shoulders and began sliding an arm through his shirt as he walked toward his truck.

He was wide awake, but no longer twitchy with adrenaline. John figured he could make it down to Little Rock, where he’d left Dean, by tomorrow night if he hit the road now.

***
A loud pop and the cracking of a falling log in the fire caused the flames to leap just as Bobby gasped, tightened his fist around his cock as he came.