Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Umm, none really, other than it's het sex

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: 2,878
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: I own nothing at all
Summary: Sam meets a woman in a bar, and she has the potential to change his life forever.
Pairing: Sam/OFC
Feedback: is loved and appreciated

Written: 2009
Author's Notes: this was my dream before I watched 4:12 (Criss Angel is a Douche Bag), but it kinda goes with it, if you squint.

~ O ~

Sam sat in the bar with the half empty bottle of whiskey in front of him. The bartender had long ago given up topping up his glass when requested and just passed him the bottle instead. It was going to be one of those nights when, no matter how much he drank, he wasn't going get drunk. His maudlin melancholy thoughts were taking care of that little fact for him.

He and Dean? They were going die doing this whole demon hunting thing, and that's all the life they were ever gonna know. They were never going to be old men, looking back on their lives with great fondness with a wife or a family beside them. And it sucked. Big time.

But as much as it sucked, Sam wasn't getting any more enlightened the further down the whiskey bottle he got. There were, apparently, no answers to be found in alcohol, no matter what Dean said.

He was about to give up for the night when a very attractive lady sat down next to him on one of the vacant bar stools and smiled at him.

Sam wouldn't be the last person to admit that it'd been a while and yeah, all it had taken to make him change his plans was one smile from a very pretty lady to get his attention.

Not one to overlook a gift horse, Sam smiled back. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Sure you weren't about to leave?" the lady replied, smiling. Her pink shiny glossed lips curved up at one side.

Her voice washed over Sam is such a seductive manner than he had to shuffle around in his seat to make his pants more comfortable. Low, and deep, and husky, and left little to the imagination. Making Sam feel things he hadn't felt for a while. Making Sam want.

"I might've been… but not any more. What would you like? …to drink?" Sam glanced in the direction of the bar tender.

"In that case, I'll have a margarita sour please," she said to Sam and the bar tender together. The bar tender nodded and went to mix up her cocktail.

Sam poured himself out another shot of whiskey and swirled it around the glass, not drinking it but just watching the way the amber liquid reflected the light, twinkling intoxicatingly.

"So, you're just passing through, right?" The woman was speaking to him again. "You don't live here or I would've seen you around before now. And I'd remember someone like you."

"Yeah, just passing through," Sam replied. Talk about stilted conversation.

The bar tender placed the cocktail in front of her and she thanked him in that same husky voice.

"Visiting relatives or looking for work?" she said quietly.

"Huh?"

"Are you always this eloquent? I asked if you were passing through to either see relatives or look for work," she rolled her eyes at him.

Sam laughed. "I'm sorry. I kinda had the determination to drink myself into a coma tonight and it seems I was half way there after all. And no, no relatives or work. Just passing through, is all."

The woman regarded him carefully as she sipped her cocktail. "Why would you want to drink yourself into a coma? Surely there can't be anything bad enough in your life that would make you want to end it all slowly, is there?"

"You don't know the half of it," Sam muttered.

"You could tell me about it," she smiled at him again, teeth white and sparkling between her glossed lips.

"No offense," Sam tipped his glass in her direction. "But I'm kinda not in the mood to talk tonight."

The woman slid her hand across his thigh, squeezing. "Me either," she whispered, as if she was sharing some deep, dark secret with him.

Sam gulped and bit at his bottom lip. He opened his mouth to speak, and snapped it shut again, aware that if he spoke, it would come out as a squeak. He wasn't used to such blatant come-on's as Dean was, and this lady? Well, she was throwing him some looks that would scare even his brother. Okay, no, that wasn't true. Dean would see it as a challenge and throw himself into it. Something to be met head-on and conquered.

That's how Sam should be. More like Dean. Take the opportunities when they are presented to him.

"We could get out of here and not talk somewhere more comfortable," the woman winked at him.

Sam shrugged. The alcohol finally seemed to be hitting him and the lines around him blurred and became fuzzy at the edges. He felt himself nodding but wasn't sure if it was real or in his head.

But the woman smiled and her blonde hair seemed to shimmer, her skin sparkled and Sam wondered what she would taste like.

He watched as she tossed a few bills from her purse on the bar, and smiled back at her when she grinned at him.

"Come on, then. I have a motel room not far from here," she slipped off the stool and stood, holding her hand out to him.

Sam nodded and swayed unsteadily on his feet once he'd coordinated his body enough to get off the stool

Once they were both out in the night air, the woman used the element of surprise to catch him off guard, pushing him against the wall and balancing on the tiptoes of her high-heeled shoes, she reached her arms up around his neck and pressed her lips against his. It took Sam seconds to respond to the small woman, gripping her waist and pulling her into him.

She pulled away from him, giving him a naughty grin. She took his hand and pulled him, "Come on, let's go… I can't wait to get you naked and in bed."

She led Sam to his small motel about ten minutes from the bar, and as soon as they were through the door, she was all over him like heat rash in summer. His shirt was ripped open, buttons flying off in all directions, and her hands felt like fire as they ran over the well formed muscles of his chest.

She let out a small sigh of appreciation, "Oh boy… I knew you'd look good under all those clothes but oh my… wow… You're amazing…" Her lacquered fingertips traced every dip and curve of Sam's chest.

Sam's hands ran up her arms until he reached her shoulders, his fingertips grazed her neck just below her ears, and he felt her shiver. He was usually the quiet one, the shy one but there was something about this woman that made him feel bolder, more confident – maybe in the morning, if need be, he could blame it on the alcohol.

She closed her eyes as Sam slowly kissed her, his tongue running over her bottom lip before easing between her slightly parted lips to taste her sweet mouth. Damn, she tasted good. He cupped the back of her head; his fingers weaved through her silky hair as his other hand traveled back down her body, exploring her curves over her clothes. Damn, she felt good, too.

Both of Sam's hands slid down to her butt, grasping the full cheeks and lifting her off the ground. With her legs wrapped round his waist, he carried her over to the bed and practically threw her down onto the mattress.

As he kissed her, his eager fingers sought the fastenings on her fancy, possibly designer, dress fell to the floor in a flutter, leaving her standing there in black panties and those impossibly high heels.

She leaned forward, biting his hard nipple as she quickly unfastened his belt and unzippered his pants. Her fingers danced along the waistband of his boxers, teasingly, taking in the taut firmness of his skin. Men who were this physically divine were meant to be savored, devoured slowly and she intended to make the most of this night.

Attempting to remove his jeans without taking his boots off was proving difficult, boots were a well-known pain in the ass at certain moments and this was one of them. Easing out of the woman's grasp, Sam sat on the edge of the bed, unlaced his boots, and watched as she knelt in front of him and took over, gently moving his hands out of the way. Raising his hips when she indicated, so she could pull his pants down, Sam glanced at her reaction to his emerging erection.

With wide eyes, she pulled his pants slowly down his legs, biting her lip in anticipation as the thickly veined shaft came into full view. To say it was magnificent was an understatement. Her tongue ran slowly around the rim before dipping into the indentation at the top and running down the underneath to the base where her hand was now situated.

Sam leaned back on the bed, grabbing handfuls of bed sheets as her lips enclosed the swollen head and gently sucked, her tongue swirling against the marbled shaft. He groaned, enjoying the sensation. It had been a while; he wasn't sure he could cope with this and brought his hands to her head, gently lifting her away, bringing her back up to his level.

She stood straddling his legs and he kissed just above the elastic of her panties, hooked his thumbs under the sides, and slid them down her thighs, until they reached her ankles and then she stepped out of them.

Sam buried his face in the softness of her belly, breathing in her musky scent. He let his hands slide up the outside of her thighs until they came to rest on her hips and her hands carded through his hair as he nipped just above her pubic mound. Her dark blonde, coarse hair tickled his chin.

Pulling her closer to him, he ran his hand up the inside of her thigh until his fingertips felt the wetness of her lips and slid between them, searching for the hard nub at the apex of her pussy. As he circled the tender flesh, he heard her breath hitch and grinned. With her legs still straddling his, she gently lowered herself down until she was seated on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face against his warm skin as he slid his fingers inside her silken depths.

Reveling in the wet heat of her pussy on his thighs, Sam began thrusting his fingers in and out of her, stroking her responsive g-spot, making her pant, and then groan in quick succession. Her breasts pressed tightly against his chest; her erect nipples brushed his skin and caused him to shiver. He felt her lean back with her hands on his shoulders and looking at her, he saw her eyes were closed tight and her bottom lip was caught between her teeth.

With his fingers thrusting hard and deep inside her now, she was rolling her hips to match his movements as her body raced to orgasm. Sam felt the wetness run from her inner core and over his hand. He watched her as her climax rippled through her body, her neck and chest flushed a delicate shade of pink. He was awestruck, unable to speak or even think clearly.

"Hey, still with me here?" she whispered, her voice thick with desire, and husky from her exertions.

Sam groaned and grinned at the same time. "Still here." But only just, his body screamed. His hands were roaming her body, stroking every inch of her smooth, tight skin until they came to rest on her full breasts, his thumbs playing across her hardened nipples. He'd missed this, touching a woman, taking time to map her body… He was glad they had all night…

But he was aching for her now, throbbing, and impatient to be inside her, to feel her wrapped around him, her heat…her wetness…

As if reading his thoughts, or maybe mirroring them with her own needs, the woman put her hands against his chest, palms flat, and pushed him back on the bed and he shuffled back, resting against the bed head, while she slowly stepped out of her shoes, and crawled seductively onto the bed, still straddling him.

As she crawled up his body, she nipped and kissed as much of him as she could. His skin felt like fire against her lips, and his salty sweet taste filled her mouth. It had been a while since someone had awakened all her senses at once… and then they'd been nothing compared to comparative God in front of her.

Reaching his lips, she slipped her tongue between them and kissed him slowly and seductively, sighing into his mouth as his hands cupped her ass and maneuvered her to where he wanted her. She could feel his hard length against her wet pussy as they ground their groins together.

She wriggled against him and slowly eased back as his swollen head eased inside her silken, hot tightness. Damn, it felt so good, it took all of her self control to not slam down on him and ride him hard. Instead, she eased back on him, letting him slide into her inch by inch until she was fully seated on him. She leaned forward and kissed him as she began to rock back and forth on his thick shaft.

Sam growled into her mouth, his hands gripped her hips and he stopped himself from bucking up hard and deep inside her. As she rocked, her nipples grazed his chest and sent sparks running down his spine. He could feel her tremble as she slowly fucked him, her inner walls spasming against his cock. Her wetness seeped out, soaking his balls… and her breath was coming in short pants… he could tell she was close…

Biting her bottom lip, she opened her eyes to look at Sam. He was watching her intently and she couldn't hold back as his gaze held hers. There was something so intense about the way he was watching her that made her orgasm right at that very moment.

Any further thoughts were interrupted, cut-off as a powerful orgasm swept over her body, she felt it sweep over every inch of her body like fire burning through her veins. No part of her was left untouched as goosebumps spread in the wake of her climax.

Sam, unable to hold back any longer, rolled them both over, staying buried deep inside her. Her hands wrapped around his biceps, her thighs pressed against his hips, and he began to buck into her relentlessly. He needed his own release… he needed… fuck; his brain filled with white noise as his body took over.

He felt the familiar tightening of his balls and thrust deeply in her, the first release was blissful, thrusting deeply again, and again until he was satiated. With a sigh, he tried to roll to her side but found she didn't want him to move. Still buried in her, Sam pushed up on his arms and looked down into her eyes.

He couldn't read the look on her face, but the smile that curved her perfect lips told him all he needed to know. She was satisfied, and that's what mattered.

For that matter, the release had bought him some strange resemblance of peace, one that he hadn't felt since Dean had come back.

When she finally let him move, he rolled to her side and lay on his back, just letting his breathing settle and his heart rate slow to normal. And before he knew it, he was sleeping a satiated sleep, dreamless and deep.

When Sam opened his eyes, it was just starting to get light outside. His head thumped with the beginnings of a major hangover and his mouth tasted – and felt like – something had crawled in there to die.

Slowly, but surely, the events of the night before started filtering through the fog that was taking up residence in his brain.

The whiskey. The woman. The wild sex…

Oh Hell. He'd taken a woman to bed and never once asked her what her name was.

Just then, the bathroom door opened and the woman came out, dressed and carrying her high heeled shoes in her hand.

"I was kinda hoping to sneak out with waking you," she laughed when she saw Sam lying on his side, hutched up on one elbow.

"I never asked you your name," Sam muttered.

"Well, here's the thing, Sammy," she paused, turning to face him with a snake-like smile spreading across her face. "Sometimes, I go by the name of Lilly… and sometimes, I go by the name Lillith… But you're special, Sammy… you get to call me whatever you want… even Bitch if you like... Oh, and by the way, your daddy really shoulda taught you better… you should always wear a condom…"

The smile stretched wider, and she blew him a kiss. "Bye sweetie… I'll be seeing you again… soon…"

The door slammed shut behind her, and Sam dropped back onto the bed. The abject terror he'd felt at her words spread through his veins like ice water.

What the Hell had he just done?