The last missing part of the blowjob chapter
Dean leant back against the chair at the touch of Castiel’s hand to his chest, and let out a breath as the doubled over stocking was slipped over his dick.
“I actually learnt this from a magazine,” Castiel was saying, as he stroked a slippery fist over the two layers of silk, which in turn stroked over Dean’s lube covered cock. “I’ve done it a few times, it’s…stimulating.”
Dean honestly didn’t hear any more. Fact was, as weird a technique Castiel was using, god help him, it was working. The brush of silk on silk on silky skin was addictive, and he pushed up into it, eager to feel more of it on him. It took barely two minutes for him to get hard and impatient, biting his lips to keep from voicing what Castiel’s touch was doing to him. He almost leapt out of his skin when Castiel first licked, and then sucked one of his balls, stroking him with his stockinged fist all the while. As his mouth worked Dean over, sucking and tugging at his sack, licking lower, kissing the insides of his thighs and letting out soft, hot breaths on his twitching, over stimulated skin, Dean lost track of time - hell, he lost track of his name. It was good, strike that, it was the greatest thing that had ever happened to his crotch - ever.
Castiel uncurled his fist, slipping his mouth over Dean’s erection with no pause whatsoever. Dean couldn’t keep himself under control, his hips jerked up, one hand catching at Castiel’s hair, his throat strangling an expletive to death.
Castiel was good at this, Dean realised in a broken-thoughted kind of way. The way he could take the violent thrusts into his throat, then pull back and place kittenish licks to the head of Dean’s cock, hitting all the right spots and doing so with no apparent effort, and small hitching moans of pleasure, was nothing short of artistic.
Dean could feel his skin getting hotter and hotter, sweat prickling on the back of his neck, his toes scrunching on the concrete floor. He was going to come, but it felt like it took an age to build. A slow cresting wave that had him shaking and tugging his damp fingers through Castiel’s hair as he approached his release, second, by agonising second, enjoying and enduring each rise in his pleasure, until he broke, tense muscles like bowstrings as he threw himself against the chair, arched up, and swore at the dim ceiling.
“Cas? Fuck, Cas…I’m…I’mgonna-“
Castiel slid him into his throat, one hand tracing silk covered fingers in the no-go area that was Dean’s ass,
And he came like a…well, like a pornstar.
His body was tense, trembling, and his orgasm seemed to last whole minutes, as if he had years worth of come to expel. When he finally slumped back in his seat, head tipped over the back of the chair, throat working as he tried to catch his breath and moisten his dry mouth, his body was still humming.
And through it all, Castiel kept on at him, licking gently, smoothly sucking him down and releasing his softening dick with a wet pop - over and over, until Dean couldn’t think whether he wanted it to stop, or never end. Castiel rubbed a stubbled cheek against his cock, kissing the inside of his thigh. Dean’s breath hitched, and he felt his stomach muscles twitch. An embarrassingly soft whimper escaped him, and Castiel sat back on his heels, apparently satisfied that he had sucked Dean’s brain out through his urethra.
Dean was aware only that his legs were being parted a little more, that Castiel’s warm, naked weight against his inner thigh felt oddly innocent, and didn’t provoke the usual discomfort that naked, male skin always did when it was around him. He was still fading in and out of attentiveness, but jumped a little when Castiel bit the inside of his thigh, Dean looked down, realised that Castiel was stripping his cock with one hand while nuzzling his naked skin, and quickly stopped paying attention. He felt awesome, practically stoned on the aftermath of his orgasm. It was hard to give an iota of a shit that another dude was currently jerking off at his feet, looking up at him like he was some kind of sex God.
Hell, it was actually a pretty cool feeling.
When Castiel buried his face in the smooth flesh of Dean’s thigh and shot his load over his own hand, and part of Dean’s ankle, Dean surprised himself by not flinching. Instead, he just sat, boneless in his chair, feeling Castiel’s breathing slowly return to normal as he rested against his leg.
They stayed like that until the camera bleeped (reminding them that the 4 hour battery capacity was expiring) and only then did Dean stand up, legs still shaky, to go and turn it off. Castiel stirred himself, put his (Dean’s) robe on, and sleepily hugged himself.
“Coffee?” he asked.
Dean clasped his belt shut and nodded.
Later, once Castiel had sipped his coffee, nursed his sore throat and left for the day, Dean collected the camera and watched their footage over again.
They had made possibly the world’s first four hour fellatio video. Only about an hour of it was actually sex (and half of that was Castiel patiently trying to get him aroused) the rest was just the two of them, sitting. At one point Dean’s hand had slipped down to stroke Castiel’s hair, his face and neck.
Dean doesn’t remember doing it, but there it is, on camera. With Castiel leaning up to suck the tips of his fingers sleepily.
He sends the video to Gabriel without editing it, along with a note - Cut what you want, but this is what we’ve got.
Ten seconds later he gets an email back - Love it, on the site now.
Dean navigated to Gabriel’s pirate porn sight (the address of which changed almost daily) and found the entire four hour video posted under the title ‘Straight guy sucked by corrupt, angel faced fag’.
Gabriel had a way with words - and that way was incredibly sleazy. Still, Dean couldn’t see how their video would be a match for the short, sharp, filthy things that filled the rest of the site.
He changed his mind when he woke up the next morning, and saw that it had 250,000 hits.