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Wincest Porn Pimp
Wincest Porn Pimp

sixdrops666:

deanplease:

denim-coveredcocks:

deanplease:

The problem with cheap motels is the walls are thin.

But then someone made this happen, and I suggest you read it.

Why did no one TELL ME someone wrote a fic based on my gifset?

OMG this is gorgeous!

I luv this blog except for the fact its a female running it.~.
Anonymous

thanks so much :)

not trying to offend u sorry:(
Anonymous

;)

dailywincestj2:

Jared’s young, but he knows that Jensen is not just the love of his life. He’s also the best goddamned lay in the whole world.
He decides it after they’ve been dating for four months when Jensen pushes him back onto the bed and kisses down his chest, hand stroking his hard member leisurely. The older man smirks as he drags his lips over the damp head and dips his tongue into the slit, eliciting a few whines and thrusts from Jared. He watches as Jensen takes his length into his mouth, sucking lightly while sliding his silky lips over the bulging veins of the pulsing member.
They go on like this for what feels like hours, Jensen pulling back and giving a light nip every time Jared’s moan takes that high-pitched edge that signals him being close to the edge. Until one time when he doesn’t pull back, but instead sinks down and takes Jared’s long cock unbelievably deeper. He’s never been deep-throated before and knows immediately that he’ll become addicted to this feeling as the walls of the older man’s throat flutter around his mushroomed head and he begins to pump his seed there, hips twitching as pleasure like he’s never felt before explodes in his loins and whites out his vision, mouth opening to shout out the other man’s name.

dailywincestj2:

Jared’s young, but he knows that Jensen is not just the love of his life. He’s also the best goddamned lay in the whole world.

He decides it after they’ve been dating for four months when Jensen pushes him back onto the bed and kisses down his chest, hand stroking his hard member leisurely. The older man smirks as he drags his lips over the damp head and dips his tongue into the slit, eliciting a few whines and thrusts from Jared. He watches as Jensen takes his length into his mouth, sucking lightly while sliding his silky lips over the bulging veins of the pulsing member.

They go on like this for what feels like hours, Jensen pulling back and giving a light nip every time Jared’s moan takes that high-pitched edge that signals him being close to the edge. Until one time when he doesn’t pull back, but instead sinks down and takes Jared’s long cock unbelievably deeper. He’s never been deep-throated before and knows immediately that he’ll become addicted to this feeling as the walls of the older man’s throat flutter around his mushroomed head and he begins to pump his seed there, hips twitching as pleasure like he’s never felt before explodes in his loins and whites out his vision, mouth opening to shout out the other man’s name.

dailywincestj2:

No matter how much Jared begs Jensen isn’t giving in. He’s just pulled back from running his tongue over the younger man’s twitching hole and heavy balls, but now he’s taken to slipping just the tip of his finger into the hungry muscle.
He wriggles it curiously, scraping his blunt nail lightly over the silky interior. Jared groaned and rubbed his face against the bed sheets, feeling himself flush as his cock gave a twitch and left a smear of clear fluid across his belly.
"Desperate for it, aren’t you sweetheart?" Jensen asked, voice low and husky. He smirked as he sunk the digit in to the first knuckle and the younger man’s hips jerked.
"Jensen… Please…" Jared whined, rocking back only to give a huff of frustration when Jensen moved with him. "Feels so empty without you… I can’t come like this."
Jensen hummed and his lips pulled back into a smug grin, “That’s the idea sweetheart,” He replied, reaching out to palm one pale cheek, “You’re not going to come till I think you’ve earned it.”

dailywincestj2:

No matter how much Jared begs Jensen isn’t giving in. He’s just pulled back from running his tongue over the younger man’s twitching hole and heavy balls, but now he’s taken to slipping just the tip of his finger into the hungry muscle.

He wriggles it curiously, scraping his blunt nail lightly over the silky interior. Jared groaned and rubbed his face against the bed sheets, feeling himself flush as his cock gave a twitch and left a smear of clear fluid across his belly.

"Desperate for it, aren’t you sweetheart?" Jensen asked, voice low and husky. He smirked as he sunk the digit in to the first knuckle and the younger man’s hips jerked.

"Jensen… Please…" Jared whined, rocking back only to give a huff of frustration when Jensen moved with him. "Feels so empty without you… I can’t come like this."

Jensen hummed and his lips pulled back into a smug grin, “That’s the idea sweetheart,” He replied, reaching out to palm one pale cheek, “You’re not going to come till I think you’ve earned it.”


obsession

obsession

win-cestj2:

image

"God, Dean! Look at your hole just open up for my fingers!"

Sam pressed his face even closer to Dean’s ass with child-like enthusiasm. Sam had finally asked Dean if he could top and while he knew that getting to fuck his brother would be exciting, he never thought it would be this fucking

bowlegsinthebatcave:

It definitely isn’t the first time Sam has helped his brother limp in to a motel room after a hunt that got rough. He knows it won’t be the last, either, so he saves the ‘be more careful’ speech for another day, another injury.
“You sure we shouldn’t take you to the hospital?” Sam asks, walking Dean nice and slow in to the room and towards the bed. He kicks the motel door shut with his foot on the way.
“Nah, I’m alright. Bruised all to shit and I probably tore somethin’, but I’ll live. Just need a few days to heal up.”
Even Dean doesn’t look like he believes a word he’s saying, and Sam takes note of the grimace of pain on Dean’s face when he tries to hobble the last few steps and falls ungracefully on to the bed. Dean hisses sharply and lies back against the pillows with his hands hovering like he wants to touch his injury, but knows what little amount of good that will do.
“Here, let me,” Sam says softly, kneeling on the bed in between Dean’s legs.
They manage to work together clumsily to get Dean’s sweat-stained shirt off, followed by his jeans, Sam whispering an apology when he tugs too hard and Dean whimpering when he puts strain on his leg by lifting himself up.
Yeah, there’s no way in hell they’re going anywhere for the next few days, probably more like the next two weeks. The spot on Dean’s thigh where the bruise is forming is angry looking, dark with blood pooling from broken capillaries beneath the skin and roughly the size of Sam’s fist. Judging from the way Dean reacted to using those muscles, Sam suspects something is strained or torn, too.
“Guess I won’t be getting any for a while either. Could give me some pity head while you’re down there,” Dean teases, likely trying to make light of the situation and the injury that will keep him from hunting and fucking until it heals.
Sam goes still and just looks at Dean for a few long moments, the air between them quickly becoming heavy with something unspoken. Dean’s cock is half-hard in his boxer briefs and he’s looking at Sam like he’s a little nervous and excited and mostly doesn’t expect Sam to take him seriously.
Sam doesn’t even have to give it a second thought.
Dean shivers noticeably and throws an arm over his face, breathing in and out shakily when Sam bows his head and ghosts his lips over the top of the bruise. He’s shoving one hand in to the waistband of Dean’s underwear, working at them until he manages to pull Dean’s erection free with his balls settled over the elastic.
Sam mouths wetly at the tip and down the shaft, brushing Dean’s cock over his face and basking in the comforting warmth of that hot velvet skin over his lips and cheeks. It seems like the most natural thing in the world when Dean tangles his fingers through Sam’s hair and tugs at it, face flushed and eyes wide as he watches Sam take the head of his cock between his lips, enveloping it in the wet heat of his mouth and tonguing around the sensitive crown.
“Sammy.”

bowlegsinthebatcave:

It definitely isn’t the first time Sam has helped his brother limp in to a motel room after a hunt that got rough. He knows it won’t be the last, either, so he saves the ‘be more careful’ speech for another day, another injury.

“You sure we shouldn’t take you to the hospital?” Sam asks, walking Dean nice and slow in to the room and towards the bed. He kicks the motel door shut with his foot on the way.

“Nah, I’m alright. Bruised all to shit and I probably tore somethin’, but I’ll live. Just need a few days to heal up.”

Even Dean doesn’t look like he believes a word he’s saying, and Sam takes note of the grimace of pain on Dean’s face when he tries to hobble the last few steps and falls ungracefully on to the bed. Dean hisses sharply and lies back against the pillows with his hands hovering like he wants to touch his injury, but knows what little amount of good that will do.

“Here, let me,” Sam says softly, kneeling on the bed in between Dean’s legs.

They manage to work together clumsily to get Dean’s sweat-stained shirt off, followed by his jeans, Sam whispering an apology when he tugs too hard and Dean whimpering when he puts strain on his leg by lifting himself up.

Yeah, there’s no way in hell they’re going anywhere for the next few days, probably more like the next two weeks. The spot on Dean’s thigh where the bruise is forming is angry looking, dark with blood pooling from broken capillaries beneath the skin and roughly the size of Sam’s fist. Judging from the way Dean reacted to using those muscles, Sam suspects something is strained or torn, too.

“Guess I won’t be getting any for a while either. Could give me some pity head while you’re down there,” Dean teases, likely trying to make light of the situation and the injury that will keep him from hunting and fucking until it heals.

Sam goes still and just looks at Dean for a few long moments, the air between them quickly becoming heavy with something unspoken. Dean’s cock is half-hard in his boxer briefs and he’s looking at Sam like he’s a little nervous and excited and mostly doesn’t expect Sam to take him seriously.

Sam doesn’t even have to give it a second thought.

Dean shivers noticeably and throws an arm over his face, breathing in and out shakily when Sam bows his head and ghosts his lips over the top of the bruise. He’s shoving one hand in to the waistband of Dean’s underwear, working at them until he manages to pull Dean’s erection free with his balls settled over the elastic.

Sam mouths wetly at the tip and down the shaft, brushing Dean’s cock over his face and basking in the comforting warmth of that hot velvet skin over his lips and cheeks. It seems like the most natural thing in the world when Dean tangles his fingers through Sam’s hair and tugs at it, face flushed and eyes wide as he watches Sam take the head of his cock between his lips, enveloping it in the wet heat of his mouth and tonguing around the sensitive crown.

Sammy.

bowlegsinthebatcave:

It definitely isn’t the first time Sam has helped his brother limp in to a motel room after a hunt that got rough. He knows it won’t be the last, either, so he saves the ‘be more careful’ speech for another day, another injury.
“You sure we shouldn’t take you to the hospital?” Sam asks, walking Dean nice and slow in to the room and towards the bed. He kicks the motel door shut with his foot on the way.
“Nah, I’m alright. Bruised all to shit and I probably tore somethin’, but I’ll live. Just need a few days to heal up.”
Even Dean doesn’t look like he believes a word he’s saying, and Sam takes note of the grimace of pain on Dean’s face when he tries to hobble the last few steps and falls ungracefully on to the bed. Dean hisses sharply and lies back against the pillows with his hands hovering like he wants to touch his injury, but knows what little amount of good that will do.
“Here, let me,” Sam says softly, kneeling on the bed in between Dean’s legs.
They manage to work together clumsily to get Dean’s sweat-stained shirt off, followed by his jeans, Sam whispering an apology when he tugs too hard and Dean whimpering when he puts strain on his leg by lifting himself up.
Yeah, there’s no way in hell they’re going anywhere for the next few days, probably more like the next two weeks. The spot on Dean’s thigh where the bruise is forming is angry looking, dark with blood pooling from broken capillaries beneath the skin and roughly the size of Sam’s fist. Judging from the way Dean reacted to using those muscles, Sam suspects something is strained or torn, too.
“Guess I won’t be getting any for a while either. Could give me some pity head while you’re down there,” Dean teases, likely trying to make light of the situation and the injury that will keep him from hunting and fucking until it heals.
Sam goes still and just looks at Dean for a few long moments, the air between them quickly becoming heavy with something unspoken. Dean’s cock is half-hard in his boxer briefs and he’s looking at Sam like he’s a little nervous and excited and mostly doesn’t expect Sam to take him seriously.
Sam doesn’t even have to give it a second thought.
Dean shivers noticeably and throws an arm over his face, breathing in and out shakily when Sam bows his head and ghosts his lips over the top of the bruise. He’s shoving one hand in to the waistband of Dean’s underwear, working at them until he manages to pull Dean’s erection free with his balls settled over the elastic.
Sam mouths wetly at the tip and down the shaft, brushing Dean’s cock over his face and basking in the comforting warmth of that hot velvet skin over his lips and cheeks. It seems like the most natural thing in the world when Dean tangles his fingers through Sam’s hair and tugs at it, face flushed and eyes wide as he watches Sam take the head of his cock between his lips, enveloping it in the wet heat of his mouth and tonguing around the sensitive crown.
“Sammy.”

bowlegsinthebatcave:

It definitely isn’t the first time Sam has helped his brother limp in to a motel room after a hunt that got rough. He knows it won’t be the last, either, so he saves the ‘be more careful’ speech for another day, another injury.

“You sure we shouldn’t take you to the hospital?” Sam asks, walking Dean nice and slow in to the room and towards the bed. He kicks the motel door shut with his foot on the way.

“Nah, I’m alright. Bruised all to shit and I probably tore somethin’, but I’ll live. Just need a few days to heal up.”

Even Dean doesn’t look like he believes a word he’s saying, and Sam takes note of the grimace of pain on Dean’s face when he tries to hobble the last few steps and falls ungracefully on to the bed. Dean hisses sharply and lies back against the pillows with his hands hovering like he wants to touch his injury, but knows what little amount of good that will do.

“Here, let me,” Sam says softly, kneeling on the bed in between Dean’s legs.

They manage to work together clumsily to get Dean’s sweat-stained shirt off, followed by his jeans, Sam whispering an apology when he tugs too hard and Dean whimpering when he puts strain on his leg by lifting himself up.

Yeah, there’s no way in hell they’re going anywhere for the next few days, probably more like the next two weeks. The spot on Dean’s thigh where the bruise is forming is angry looking, dark with blood pooling from broken capillaries beneath the skin and roughly the size of Sam’s fist. Judging from the way Dean reacted to using those muscles, Sam suspects something is strained or torn, too.

“Guess I won’t be getting any for a while either. Could give me some pity head while you’re down there,” Dean teases, likely trying to make light of the situation and the injury that will keep him from hunting and fucking until it heals.

Sam goes still and just looks at Dean for a few long moments, the air between them quickly becoming heavy with something unspoken. Dean’s cock is half-hard in his boxer briefs and he’s looking at Sam like he’s a little nervous and excited and mostly doesn’t expect Sam to take him seriously.

Sam doesn’t even have to give it a second thought.

Dean shivers noticeably and throws an arm over his face, breathing in and out shakily when Sam bows his head and ghosts his lips over the top of the bruise. He’s shoving one hand in to the waistband of Dean’s underwear, working at them until he manages to pull Dean’s erection free with his balls settled over the elastic.

Sam mouths wetly at the tip and down the shaft, brushing Dean’s cock over his face and basking in the comforting warmth of that hot velvet skin over his lips and cheeks. It seems like the most natural thing in the world when Dean tangles his fingers through Sam’s hair and tugs at it, face flushed and eyes wide as he watches Sam take the head of his cock between his lips, enveloping it in the wet heat of his mouth and tonguing around the sensitive crown.

Sammy.

jaysisfeck:

The Mark of Cain has done a number on Dean’s muscle. Places that were soft had toned. Slopes across his chest became deep valleys cut across his skin. He knew it, too…Knew how he looked by the way Sam stood with a slacked jaw in the doorway. 
Did didn’t stop; in fact he only got more into the performance, moaning and rolling his whole body up into his stroking fist as he came hard against his newly muscled chest. 

jaysisfeck:

The Mark of Cain has done a number on Dean’s muscle. Places that were soft had toned. Slopes across his chest became deep valleys cut across his skin. He knew it, too…Knew how he looked by the way Sam stood with a slacked jaw in the doorway. 

Did didn’t stop; in fact he only got more into the performance, moaning and rolling his whole body up into his stroking fist as he came hard against his newly muscled chest. 

jaysisfeck:

Don’t touch, Sammy. Not yet.It was harder than Sam thought to keep his hands to himself with Dean’s full lips sliding up and down his shaft- With his brother’s bottle green eyes staring up through long eyelashes women would kill for.But Sam kept his hands on the mattress and his fingers curled tightly in the sheets instead of brushing them through his hair. Even when Dean twisted his head as he bobbed and had a needy set of moans pouring out of his lips. 

jaysisfeck:

Don’t touch, Sammy. 
Not yet.

It was harder than Sam thought to keep his hands to himself with Dean’s full lips sliding up and down his shaft- With his brother’s bottle green eyes staring up through long eyelashes women would kill for.
But Sam kept his hands on the mattress and his fingers curled tightly in the sheets instead of brushing them through his hair. Even when Dean twisted his head as he bobbed and had a needy set of moans pouring out of his lips. 

jaysisfeck:

It’s not often they find a bathtub big enough for the both of them- But when they do they make an evening of it. With candles usually reserved for summoning and cheap motel soap, the brothers take turns washing dirt away and rubbing soreness out of muscles. And if they wind up focusing on some areas more than others, neither of them seem to mind.

jaysisfeck:

It’s not often they find a bathtub big enough for the both of them- But when they do they make an evening of it. With candles usually reserved for summoning and cheap motel soap, the brothers take turns washing dirt away and rubbing soreness out of muscles. And if they wind up focusing on some areas more than others, neither of them seem to mind.

jaysisfeck:

As much as Sam likes the feeling of Dean’s scruff, his lips and tongue always win out in the end.

jaysisfeck:

As much as Sam likes the feeling of Dean’s scruff, his lips and tongue always win out in the end.