Weird Dean – chapter 1

The guy was big, a couple inches taller than Dean and had the biggest damn hands he'd ever seen. And the guy kept smiling at him, even after Dean took him in pool for a couple hundred.

"Not your night," Dean told him with a cocky smile.

The guy shrugged, making Dean wonder if he gave up on this mark too early. "Not yet."

Dean crooked an eyebrow at that. "Not yet?" he repeated.

"Frank," the guy said, holding out one of those monstrous paws.

Dean took it in a firm handshake. "Dean."

Frank didn't let go right away. "You play some mean pool, Dean. You do everything that well?"

Dean pulled his hand back slowly. "What are you asking?"

Frank smiled big, which matched his face and hands. Was everything on this guy big? Actually, that was an interesting question. "I'm hungry. Join me for a burger?"

Dean shrugged, taking another swig of his beer. "Who's buying?"

Frank laughed then. "Okay, fine. I'll use my last ten bucks for burgers. Happy?"

Dean cocked his head to one side. Was this guy hitting on him, or just strangely friendly? "Yeah, okay. I can eat."

Two hours, four burgers and god only knows how many beers later, Dean dropped another twenty on the table. When Frank's ten ran out, Dean started using his winnings that used to be Frank's money. "That's enough," he said, chuckling. "Dude, if I drink any more I won't be able to walk back to my motel."

Frank stood a little unsteadily himself. "No problem. I'll walk you back."

Dean snorted, attempting to shake off the offer, but Frank threw an arm around his shoulder and propelled both of them towards the door. "No, no," Frank was saying, "you're too drunk to walk by yourself. Get rolled in this neighborhood."

Dean rolled his eyes at that, but he didn't mind Frank's arm around his shoulders or the staggering weight at his side. "How long you lived around here, Frankie?" He could hear the slur in his voice. How much beer did he drink?

Frank's arm tightened around his shoulders. "Too damn long. There's no action in this stupid town, unless it's just passing through." The hand that was on his shoulder roamed down his back to grip his right buttock. Oh, he had enough beer that he didn't mind it, even liked it. Yeah, Dean hadn't been this drunk in a couple of years. It took a lot to make him reveal his secret, and they were only a hundred yards from it now.

Dean grinned suggestively at Frankie. "Like me?" he asked in his sexiest voice, the one that could seduce a librarian in the special collections area.

Frankie smiled that big damn smile, used his big damn hand to grope Dean's ass again. "Yeah. Like you."

Dean whipped out his room card, winding an arm around Frankie's waist. "Then I've got a surprise for you." He paused as the door swung open, staring at Frankie with bleary eyes. "But maybe you're not drunk enough yet. I got a fifth in the car." He pointed into the room. "Wait there, like a good boy."

Frankie stood in the doorway, waiting, while Dean retrieved the unopened bottle of Jack from the trunk. It was supposed to be for Father's Day, but that was two months ago and he still hadn't seen Dad. Screw him. No, screw Dean, hopefully tonight. With a grin, Dean returned to his motel room.

Frankie gave him a puzzled look as he shut the door. "Why do we need that?"

Dean smiled broadly. "Because most guys freak, unless they're good and drunk. So, drink up and I can promise you a night you'll never forget." He waggled his eyebrows.

Frankie shook his head. "If I drink any more, it'll be a night I'll never remember. Why would I freak?"

Dean shoved the bottle into Frankie's hands. "Drink," he ordered.

Frankie shrugged, opened the bottle. He took a long swig straight from the bottle, keeping an eye on Dean the whole time. "Now?" he asked.

Dean took the bottle back, downed a nice portion of it. At least if the guy freaked, Dean would be too drunk to really care. "I have a secret," he whispered. "Not even my brother knows."

Frankie had the look of a serious drunk, which made Dean giggle. God, he was really gone if he was giggling! And he didn't care, so yeah, really drunk.

"The suspense is killing me," Frankie said earnestly. "What is it?" His eyes were wide and round and so god-damned striking blue. Dean hadn't noticed Frankie's amazing blue eyes before.

Dean unzipped his pants. "Put your hand in there," he ordered.

Frankie grinned, sliding his hand down Dean's stomach muscles into his briefs. Dean waited, the whiskey bottle still clutched in one hand. Most of the time this ended with the guy taking off into the night, which was the other damn good reason to only sleep with girls. He felt those meaty fingers wrap around his penis, which was already coming to life. Frankie stroked it for a moment.

"Keep going," Dean said in the same tone.

Frankie looked in his eyes as the hand gently stroked lower to where his balls should be. Dean got a confused look. "Keep going," he whispered. This was where it either turned into a really awesome night, or a nightmare.

Frankie's big fingers ghosted lower, reaching further. Dean knew Frankie thought he wanted an ass job or something, but Frankie hadn't found the secret yet. Then he felt a finger slip behind his penis, into the wetness there. Frankie's eyes widened and Dean nodded encouragement. The finger, and it was big, explored. Then a second finger followed. Dean found himself rocking against those huge fingers, reveling in the sensations. Oh, he knew those bigs hands were good for something.

"You're a girl?" Frankie asked in a whisper.

Dean shook his head. "Both," he replied, holding up the whiskey. "Need some more?"

It was no surprise when the hand pulled out of his pants or when the bottle was taken from his hand. The surprise came when Frankie's mouth closed over his, the tongue attacking his lips, that big hand grabbing the back of his head. Maybe Dean wasn't drunk enough. He never expected success.

Big fingers sucked at undoing shirt buttons. Dean decided screw it and pulled hard, popping the buttons off. His vision wasn't good enough to unbutton it anyway. All he could see in any sort of clarity were those blue eyes, which kept looking at him. How weird was that?

Then he stood completely naked in front of Frankie, those big hands roaming all over him.

"Come here," Frankie said, propelling him to the bed. "I want a better look at this." Dean shot him a hard look. "You. I meant at you." He grinned real big again. "I never even heard of this."

Dean allowed himself to be manhandled, mainly because Frankie wasn't freaking out. The fact Frankie wasn't freaking out should have been freaking him out, but fortunately he had already taken his hundred proof cure-all. He laid down on the bed, spread his legs wide for inspection. Plenty of doctors had groped him in the past, with Dad looking on asking about testosterone supplements and levels. This was different, thank god.

Warm hands, not cold doctor's hands, rubbed up his thighs. His penis, his manhood, was lifted. He knew it grew from the point where a woman's clit was. Careful fingers slipped inside, massaged his female opening. He tried not to groan at the sensations, but a second finger joined the first and then the other hand massaged his penis. He heard his own groan, spread his legs wider, wanting more feeling, more sensations.

"Hang on," Frankie said in a soothing voice, "I have an idea."

Dean closed his eyes, surrendering himself to Frankie and whatever this perfect stranger wanted to do to him. Maybe he needed more whiskey, or sense.

Wet warmth enveloped his penis. Dean's head snapped up, eyes open. Frankie was going down on his manhood while giving the female part a really good fingerjob, something no one except Dean had ever bothered to do. He dropped back onto the bed, not believing his rare good luck. He actually happened onto a guy who was enjoying pleasing a hermaphrodite. Yeah, well, Dean had seen stranger, but not by much. At the moment, he didn't really care because it just felt too god-damned good. Frankie didn't just have big hands and a hot mouth, but a nice long tongue that kept rubbing the underside of his dick, which was getting harder by the moment. A second sensation deep down had him clenching his vaginal muscles. The fingers sped up, the thumb rubbed the sensitive skin around his vagina, Frankie swallowed around his dick and Dean bucked hard, arching his back. He couldn't stay still any longer, thrusting on Frankie's hand and up into his mouth. Frankie started timing his head bobs with the finger thrusts and the sensations welled up within him. Then Frankie hummed and that did him in. With a cry of primal urges, Dean thrust twice more, coming in a way he never had before, both ways at the same time. Frankie sucked him dry, his fingers slowing their frantic pace to a soothing stroke. Frankie released his penis gently and smiled at him.

"How was that?" Frankie asked. "I can't imagine." His grin broadened.

Dean nodded, panting. "Wow," he breathed.

Frankie crawled up over him, those big fingers still making soothing strokes inside him, exciting him again. "Ready?" Frankie asked.

Dean should be totally freaked at how well Frankie had adapted, but he was way too far gone now. He nodded, wondering what could possibly follow that. Frankie slipped his fingers out to undress. Damn, Dean knew he had forgotten to do something, but it was a good show. He told himself that this wasn't gay, because technically they weren't the same gender. Hell, almost nobody was his gender, certainly no one he had ever met.

Frankie worked out. He had a really nice physique and knew it. He even flexed a couple of times for Dean. "I take it from what you said earlier you don't have much to do with guys."

Dean shook his head. "Most of them freak. Nobody ever did...that." He couldn't help the sigh that escaped. Honest. Call it post-sex-insanity. Or was it pre? Because Frankie had a look in his eye like they hadn't really started anything yet.

Frankie's smile was back, the big one. "Does this work for you?" he asked, posing.

Dean chuckled. "You're a good lookin' guy," he assured Frankie. "You gonna just leave me here now?"

Frankie crawled onto the bed, over Dean. "Just figuring out how this is going to work. You up to doing me?" Before Dean could formulate an answer, he shook his head. "Kidding. This is what I'm going to do."

Dean felt something warm press up against his opening. It pressed harder, slipping inside thanks to how wet Frankie had made him with earlier activities. Oh, it was better than fingers already. Dean reached out, grabbed Frankie's ass and pulled him in tighter. Oh, yeah, that reached much deeper, much better. Frankie pumped into him, again and again, but there was no variation.

"Roll," Dean panted.

"What?" Frankie asked, slowing his thrusts.

"Hips," Dean said, shifting his hands to guide Frankie's hips, "roll."

Oh, no wonder the women he did that to groaned with pleasure. Dean guided Frankie through thrusts and rolls until he was groaning with each stroke. Just when he thought it couldn't get any better, Frankie rolled them both over, putting Dean on top. He grasped Dean's hips, thrusting up. Dean braced himself on the bed, one hand on each side of Frankie's chest. He moved slowly at first, feeling Frankie's cock glide inside him. This was a first. If he actually got a guy into bed, and it had only happened a couple of times, then it was usually frantic humping before they both passed out. Dean had never been on top before, except as a guy on a woman. Frankie's hands urged him on, to pick up the pace. He slid up and back, coming down a little harder. Oh, yeah, that was good. For a change of pace, Dean tried lifting all the way up, until he nearly lost Frankie, then he plunged back down. A moan tore from his throat. He needed to do that again. That deep feeling, sensation, welled up deep in his abdomen. His pace picked up again, much to Frankie's relief if the groans and grunts were to be believed. That was about the point Dean lost control. He remembered thinking he ought to slow down, make this last, but his body continued to pump hard and fast. Frankie's hips lifted, matching him thrust for thrust. The he felt something else. Looking down, he saw Frankie's fist around his dick, which he guessed had been hardened by all the sexual activity. He didn't slow down, just kept pumping and pumping as the feeling overtook him. He could feel the wetness leaking out of him, probably dribbling down on Frankie and the sheets, but he couldn't stop now even if Dad walked in and caught them. Dean didn't notice how hard they were bouncing the bed, didn't realize that loud banging noise was from the headboard slamming into the wall, couldn't hear the people next door pounding and shouting at them. More. He had to have more. Almost there.

Frankie's hand grasped his ass while the other hand pumped his dick, hard and fast. Almost. He was nearly there. Harder. Faster. Faster. Harder. Sweat poured in rivulets down his skin. Heaving breaths filled the room. Almost. Faster. Almost. Harder. Dean reached under Frankie, grabbed his ass. The shift in his position put Frankie's penis at a different angle.

Oh.

God.

YES!!

Dean tightened his grip on Frankie, pulled the other man up by the ass to meet his thrusts. One more time. Frankie's dick plowed into Dean, hitting that sweet spot he'd been searching for. All that sensation flowed over him, immobilizing thought. He kept moving, but not at the frantic pace. The sensations of his body had taken over. He panted, opening his eyes as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through him. He noticed Frankie's face, not smiling. Frankie urged him to move some more. Dean moved the way Frankie wanted now, allowed the other man to guide him. A few more thrusts and he felt Frankie's dick grow larger inside him, thicker with each stroke. Then he understood. He pumped down hard, the sensation growing stronger. Dean did the trick with Frankie's ass again, thrusting hard and sure.

An explosion happened, inside of him. Dean stopped dead still. He breathed hard as Frankie made some really weird faces, clutching his hips and grinding into him from below. Dean moved some, helping Frankie with the grinding thing. Then he sat there as the sensation continued to pulse through him, completely in control. He could still feel Frankie inside him, but not like before. Before Frankie filled him, reaching deeper than Dean thought possible. Now it was a warm reminder of what just happened.

Frankie's startling blue eyes opened. His jet black hair was plastered down on his forehead and Dean didn't have the energy to brush it away.

"Wow," Frankie breathed.

Dean chuckled a little, smiling. He liked reactions like that. "Not...bad...huh?" he managed to say breathlessly.

Frankie ran his big hands up Dean's sides and down his arms. "How long are you in town?"

Dean tilted his head to one side, studying the man under him. "Why?"

Frankie grinned that bright, wide smile. "Because I'm going to take some time off work. This is not the last time that is happening."

Dean laughed, lifting up. He was surprised he had to move so far up to fully release Frankie. He crashed on the bed next to the man with the great eyes. "That right? Planning to stay the night? Get some hot morning sex in?"

Frankie was still smiling. A huge hand caressed his cheek. "How long?"

Dean shrugged. "Couple of days, at least. Until my dad calls with a job."

Frankie nudged Dean until he lifted his head. Frankie slipped an arm under. "Then I'm on vacation for a couple of days."

"Where are we going?" Dean asked, eyelids feeling heavy.

"Sex beach."

He felt lips pressed to his forehead, but he was way too tired and drunk to think about anything right now.