Boredom is the Mother of Invention

May. 29th, 2008 10:07 am

Fandom: SPN

Characters: Jo/Ash

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Smut, drug use.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

Summary: "Shut up, you know you like it."

Kink: (8) Fisting

Author's Note: I had so wanted to write this girl on girl, but I couldn't think of a pairing to use. I think het is every bit as rare for this kink, though, so it's almost as good?


"Why do you always have to stick fingers up my ass when you blow me? I mean, you've got like...three in there." There's a hint of a whine on the end of Ash's words, but for the most part it doesn't sound like a complaint. He's sprawled out on his back on his bed, the sheets a tangled mess around both of them. His cock is still wet.

Jo rolls her eyes, twisting her fingers around to make him drop his head back to the bed, "Like you don't get off on it." Ash grunts what sounds like agreement, groping one hand out across the bed for his lighter. Illegal substances are a given when fucking around with Ash, usually before, during, and after the act. Jo waits impatiently for him to finish, moving and twisting her fingers around because she's bored and it's something to do.

Ash coughs after a moment, his body jerking around her fingers, handing the home-rolled back to her. Jo takes a deep breath, holding it until it burns, coughing herself as she lets the smoke roll out of her mouth. Ash grunts, "C'mon, give it back," and she elbows him in the stomach for being impatient but hands it back.

Ash squirms around again, pushing his shoulders up off the bed to ask, "Okay, are you just leaving them there until next time, or what?"

Really, Jo just hadn't gotten around to extricating herself from his body yet. It wasn't like there was any rush, and she liked the way he couldn't quite lay still. But if he's going to bitch about it then she feels, instinctively, that the ante must be upped.

Jo tosses her hair, tangled and messy, over her shoulder and, on a whim, pulls her fingers out just far enough to tuck her little finger in beside them, and slide them partially back in.

Ash makes a gargling sound, collapsing back down onto the bed, his cock twitching. Jo blinks, a little bit surprised, and pushes her fingers in a little further. Ash is relaxed, from their previous activities and whatever the hell it is they're smoking, and Jo watches her fingers sink into his body. It's surprisingly hot. Ash pants out, "Fuck, what're you—"

"Shut up, you know you like it." The way he's getting hard again is kind of a dead give away. Jo hesitates at the base of her knuckles, which are wider than she'd realized. She's already got lube all over Ash's sheets, because he's such a baby about it if she doesn't use a ton, but there's none that far down on her hand. Also, her shoulder is aching from the way she's holding it to manage this. She frowns, "I have an idea."

Ash waves a hand, his voice curiously tight, "Yeah?"

Jo is still frowning, drawing her fingers out of him slowly, considering. She finally says, "Yeah. Turn over." Ash grumbles something that sounds like a complaint, but rolls onto his stomach anyway, letting Jo shove the balled up sheets under his hips. She ignores his complaints about the wet spot being pressed against his stomach.

Jo, kneeling between Ash's spread thighs, considers. Hand, check. Ass, check. Lube, check. She can't think of anything else she'll be needing. Jo palms the lube, industrial size, and sometimes she wonders what Ash gets up to when she's not around, and slathers it with reckless abandon all over her hand and then upturns it over his ass, for good measure.

"Jesus!" Ash sounds more surprised than offended, and Jo ignores him. She may have used slightly too much lube. Then again, maybe not. She's figuring that erring on the side of caution is probably for the best.

It's slightly easier getting four fingers into him from this angle, or at least, it hurts her arm less. Jo slides them in and out a few times, but she's getting impatient. She takes a deep breath, pausing to say, "I want to try something, okay?"

Ash babbles something with too many consonants to be English, waving a hand around. Jo gives him another second to protest, then considers how exactly she wants to do this. The thumb obviously is going to be hardest part. Jo frowns, pulling her fingers out far enough to tuck her thumb in close between them, thinking brief, inappropriate thoughts about shadow puppets.

And then she pushes forward.

Her fingers sink in slowly, his hole stretching wider and wider as her knuckles get closer. There's no tension in him, just give and Jo is surprised by the sharp thrill of enjoyment up her spine from that. She tucks that away for later consideration, instead focusing on the logistics of getting her knuckles actually in him. It does not, really, appear that they are going to fit. Still, the only way to know for sure is to try.

Jo takes a deep breath, rubbing her free hand across Ash's back, pushing her other slowly forward. Ash makes a soft sound as he stretches around her, his body yielding with surprising ease, allowing her hand in. And then her knuckles are past, and Jo is watching the slope of the back of her hand slide into him. She stops at her wrist, though she has the sudden surety that she could just push her whole arm in.

Ash is making a low, whining sound, the muscles in his back jumping, his hands both balled up in the sheets. She can't see his face, not with his hair lying across it. Jo asks, feeling stupid even as she does, "Are you okay?"

Ash's voice cracks, "Your hand is in my ass."

Jo looks down, like she needs to confirm it to be true. Her hand is, indeed, in his ass. Inside he's hot and soft, and she keeps her fingers clenched tight together, worried distantly about poking him somewhere she shouldn't. She says, "It's like one of those puppet things."

When Ash laughs it's high and tight, giggles, really. She can feel it, like she's connected to him, and well, she supposes she is. She turns her hand slowly, and Ash's laughter cuts off to a low, guttural, groan, so she does it again.

He's tight around her wrist, dragging at her skin every time she moves her arm. He's also gasping and moaning, and she thinks that he's got some of the blankets shoved in his mouth. That would explain the muffled sound of his voice, anyway.

Jo asks, her voice gone hoarse when she wasn't paying attention, "What's it feel like?"

Ash giggles again, then groans, before finally managing to answer, "Like you've—Christ—like you've got your hand up my ass. Fuck. I don't know." It is not quite the description Jo had been hoping for. She frowns, twisting her hand again, and he whimpers.

"Does it hurt?" Because she doesn't want to hurt him. Though, he's not protesting or trying to get her to stop, so she figures there's a pretty good chance he's enjoying it.

Ash shakes his head, smashing his face up against the sheets, babbling, "Well, a little. But it's—uh—it's good. The twisting thing. That's good." Jo does the twisting thing some more, since it's good. She likes the way it makes him squirm.

She has only one more question, "Can you get off like this? Soon? Cause my hand is starting to hurt." She has a brief, horrifying thought of her hand cramping and being stuck inside him, and having to call 911 to rescue them. The idea makes her jerk her hand, twisting harder than she had been, and Ash grunts, a shudder racing up his spine.

Well. That answers that.

Now she just needs to figure out how to get her hand out.

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