#xsnappapplex

Freaking Sam; weaseled it out of him then convinced him to try it out again.

First time it was another pink satin pair, a rush of embarrassment quickly spreading over him as Sam stared hungrily. He barely kept them on long enough for Sam to get a good look, but the second the panties hit the ground, Sam pounces.

The second time Sam suggested it, Dean refused to wear the first pair again. Sam compromised, a dark red lace thong in hand. He sweet talked Dean into them by saying how good his ass would look in it. Sam was right of course, boasting when he pulled the fabric to the side and slid into Dean nice and slow.

Somehow, here they are again. Dean pocketed a bright blue g-string on his trip to the thrift store earlier, not wanting to explain the purchase even if he could talk his way out of any strange looks. When Sam finds them in the bag later, Dean’s all too eager to put it on.

He should have checked the size, the large cutting into Dean’s hips more than the panties Sam has gotten before. But the cotton stretches tight across his dick and the crotch squeezes his balls closer together and it’s a better thrill than at nineteen. Fuck this is his best idea ever. Dean struts out from the bathroom with a cocky grin, the thin string riding further up his ass making him walk that much taller. He ignores Sam completely, kneeling at the edge of the bed, legs spread wide in presentation.

Sam looks him over and licks his bottom lip, getting off the bed to walk around Dean, “You are obscene.” He steps up close to Dean’s back, hand on Dean’s shoulder moving down to rest on his hip. “Bend over,” Sam whispers.

Dean folds over, ending up on his elbow because Sam guides him all the way. The waist of the underwear digs into his sides as the string slides in his crack, the elastic pulling the crotch more with his ass high in the air.

A soft kiss to his ass cheek draws him away from the feeling of the g-string adjusting. Sam peppers him with kisses, a bite here and there making Dean squirm. Each movement causes the string to rub his crack and tug at his balls. He buries his face in the mattress and thankfully the “Sam” he moans out is muffled.

“Spread more,” Sam’s hands nudge at Dean’s knees.

Once Dean repositions, legs so wide a low burn is starting in his thighs, Sam parts his cheeks. The wetness of Sam’s tongue runs along the elastic string, a quick flick around Dean’s hole on the path up to the small of his back. His tongue tucks under the joint at the waist and he lets it snap on Dean’s back.

“Fuck,” Dean yelps, throwing a hand back to smack a whatever part of Sam he can reach.

Sam grabs his wrist and pins it to the bed. “Don’t move.” And he licks a trail back down the string, reaching Dean’s balls cramped into the crotch. He soaks the cotton with his spit, sucking them into his mouth and chuckling at the noises Dean makes at the treatment.

Another snap of the string, this time right on his hole, draws a groan and a flinch from Dean. Sam quickly uses the flat of his tongue to soothe the sting, keeping it in place but rolling it on and around the elastic.

Dean’s sensations are being pulled in different directions. The underwear's waist is still too tight, sure to leave an indentation on his hips, yet just on the right side of painful discomfort. His dick is rock hard, peeking out of the top of the waistband and trying to jump in the too small confinement. Coolness spreads over his balls each time Sam blows on them lightly. All of this is topped by the slow drag of Sam’s tongue side-to-side as he rubs the string over Dean’s hole, little circles around the muscle with a quick press in of the tip. The fucker knows exactly what he’s doing and it’s torture.

He’s a babbling mess by the time Sam rubs a thumb down his crack, pushing the string in just the tiniest bit. Dean pushes back, another “Sam” whined into the mattress, his need to be filled overcoming all his restraint.

Sam reaches around and pulls down the small triangle of fabric, Dean grits his teeth as the sting rubs him rough at the move. His dick springs free and Dean doesn't care anymore, cause Sam's huge hand is wrapped around him. Long strokes as Sam shoves his tongue in Dean's ass.

“Oh God!” Dean stutters out.

“Quiet now or Cas might hear you. Unless you want him to see.”

Dean falls apart in Sam’s hands, a finger wedged in under a tongue and a final tug to his cock that cinches the elastic on his cotton encased balls. He paints the bedsheet with puddles of come that dribble from him and cascade over Sam’s knuckles.

The sting of the g-string snapping him again makes him want to stab Sam, instead he winces and falls forward on the bed, still reeling in his orgasm high.

“Don’t tap out yet, Dean. It’s time for some reverse cowgirl.”

Dean turns his head to look at Sam striping off his clothes, cock tenting in his jeans must be painful. He grins, adjusts the g-string to cover himself and gets back up on his spread knees with a wiggle of his hips. “We’re leaving them on again.”