Sam is hunting a sex demon and enjoying himself too.
Rewritten, but not beta'd. Please overlook any grammar errors.
Spoiler through season 6.7 Soulless Sam.
Sex in the City
Sam Winchester knew he was different. He didn't know why or how, but since he was pulled back from Lucifer's cage there was an emptiness in him—a disconnection with himself. His remembered his life before the cage but it seemed like someone else, some stranger had lived those memories. All the loves and hates, the joys and sorrows of that Sam were a mystery to him. He no longer understood the man he was before, and he couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was missing.
Sam had been hunting with his grandfather, Samuel Campbell for months now, but the old man couldn't stay on the hunt like Sam could. Sam didn't sleep, not ever. He hadn't slept since he got back topside—free from Hell, and he didn't take breaks between hunts. All he did was hunt. So when the old man needed a break, Sam hunted alone.
Samuel always advised against hunting without a partner, without back-up. It was dangerous, but Sam wasn't afraid. He didn't feel fear. In fact, there were a lot of things Sam didn't feel. He could sense strong emotions in others, especially fear. He could smell it coming through their pours like sweat, feel it, like little electric sparks.
This hunt had gone particularly well. It had only taken a day to research and figure out the prey. It was an African sex demon, a popobawa that seemed to have settled in an old hotel in San Francisco. How in hell an African demon came to settle in San Fran was anybody's guess. Sam didn't know, didn't care.
It was a particularly nasty demon that raped its victims both male and female and then disemboweled them, leaving behind a bloody mess. Every ten years it took its victims from what was originally the Honeymoon Suite. The pattern was clear, clear enough to be an urban legend, but mixed in with all the other horror that occurred in the bad part of the city, it was not so clear to local police.
Sam researched the legend, found the pattern and set up for the hunt. He rented the room exactly ten years since the last kill. It was a nice room, old but clean. The atmosphere was quaint, not that it mattered to Sam. He'd stayed in older and shabbier and he didn't care about the atmosphere. He went where the job took him.
A knock on the door set things in motion. He smiled to himself when he opened the door to find a pretty young woman smiling up at him. She was younger than he expected, but no matter, as long as she was of age, and the escort service guaranteed that.
Sam didn't particularly like using civilians as bait. There was a whole host of complications that came along with using civilians, but he had to have what appeared to be a honeymoon couple for this trap to work. If that meant hiring a working girl to play the part, then he didn't have any qualms about using her, besides she was a professional, and he might as well enjoy the stake out. Sam was not unfamiliar with working girls. He actually preferred them. They were convenient, and he didn't have to waste time pretending to care—pretending to feel something that he couldn't.
He opened the door wider so that she could step past him into the room. He admired her as she seemed to glide to the center of the room. She was pretty. He was beginning to like this job better by the minute and there were plenty of minutes before midnight. He pushed the door shut and followed her into the room.
Sam smiled at the irony. "I'm going to screw an angel tonight."
"Your call," she said.
He gazed down at her. He sensed just a hint of fear in her. He made her nervous. Maybe she was new at this, but then he had that effect of people sometimes. He liked it. He liked that at six-foot-five, he towered over most everyone. He liked that the hard work he put his body through bulked up his muscles and broadened his shoulders. He could be intimidating and he liked it—liked to see and feel that spark of uncertainty, that hint of fear in people. The best part was knowing he caused it. She was a brave little thing, though, quickly hiding her fear behind bravado.
Sam pulled her around and backed to the foot of the bed where he sat and looked up at her expectantly, nudging her down to her knees.
"In a hurry?"
"No, take your time, Angel"
She started with his shirt, slowly unbuttoning from the top. She slipped her hands around his waist, pulling his shirt from his pants. Angel's hands slowly drifted up his torso, gliding across the six pack abs. She looked up at Sam, gazing into his hazel eyes. She began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, still watching his face. He knew she was looking for a reaction from him, but he didn't give her one.
He kept his face impassive, watching her unease grow. The feeling was rich, not unlike the excitement he felt on a hunt when he was closing in on his prey, nervousness, uncertainty—just before fear sets in. He raised his hips and she pulled off both his pants and his boxers exposing him. Sam reached to Angel's waist and pulled off her top, then quickly reached behind her pulling her close to him as he unfastened her bra. He inhaled deeply, his eyes closed as he took in her scent. Now, she could see he was not completely unaffected by her actions, and it seemed to give her a little confidence.
Sam quickly shrugged off his shirt and reached for her waist. He began tugging at her skirt wanting to see all of her. She stood up in front of him and he gazed at her body as she slipped off the skirt, quickly followed by her panties. He leaned back on the bed propping up on his elbows, and enjoyed the sight of her. He caught her eyes with his and then guided them down to his very excited erection. His message was clear and she immediately responded.
Sam watched her as she kissed and stroked him. Her blond hair curled around his hips, and he felt the warm wetness of her mouth. Her hands were skilled. She knew how to make short work of a man's desire. She was a pro and time is money. Sam's deep breaths and the wet little noises she made as he swelled in her mouth and hands were the only sounds in the room.
Angel was totally confused by this john. Quiet as a church mouse, his face unreadable, she had no idea whether he was enjoying this or not. To her, sex was a job, the way she made her living. She generally didn't enjoy it, but her customers did. Even the shy ones who were embarrassed about their bodies and were quiet through most of, got vocal toward the end. This one—hell, the whole thing was almost . . . clinical. She barely noticed the little hiss through his teeth and the slight tremble of his hands in her hair—barely had time to get her mouth off of him and finish him with her hands. She would have charged him double if he shot off in her mouth.
She got up and reaching for her panties she questioned, "You're done, then?" She was expecting to be paid and to be on her way. But Sam responded quickly, and bolting up from the bed he was at her side taking the panties from her hand.
"Not yet." His deep voice whispered in her ear.
He stunned her with his quick reaction, and questions began to pop into her mind. The most worrying question was why? Why was this man hiring a prostitute? He could pick up a willing woman easily. Possibilities came to mind, none of them good, and she began to have a very uneasy feeling.
A prostitute was vulnerable. It was one of the hazards of the job. Some men enjoyed inflicting pain. She'd been beaten before. He was a big man. He could easily hurt her. But he was gentle when slipped his arms around her and pulled her against his body. He held her tightly, stroking her back. It was as if he was trying to calm her. She wondered what the hell that was about. Why would he care?
"Shhh... Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want you to stay longer. I did specify 'all night'."
"That's true," she said.
Once again he pulled her to the bed. He urged her to sit on the foot of the bed and she began to crawl back onto the bed as he crawled on top of her. When she was fully on the bed, he held himself above her and leaned down to kiss her breast. Shit, she thought. He wants to play with my body. This could go so wrong, so quickly. She looked down at his chestnut hair, long and slightly curling at the nape of his neck. He was an Adonis. He moved down her body with his lips and tongue, tracing a path to her hairline.
"You have to use a condom, and don't leave any marks on me . . . no blood." Angel couldn't fathom the idea that a man might want to make her feel pleasure. Men didn't care about her pleasure. That's not what they paid for.
"I will . . . and I won't," he answered with a sarcastic smirk.
Sam gently nudged Angel's legs apart then slowly two long fingers slipped into her. His thumb grazed across her clit as he pushed upward with his fingers. She gasped. He gazed down at her watching her body move; her hips roll and arch up toward him. Her body responded to him all on its own. She was close, so close. She was breathless, her eyes closed. A deep purring laugh rumbled in his chest, and he took his hand from her. God help her, she was so close. She wanted more. She needed more. When did she lose control of the situation? She heard him sniffing at her, felt his warm breath ghost across her body and heard the ripping of the condom wrapper.
Sam was touching and prodding Angel to roll over on her stomach, and he encouraged her to get up on her knees. He knelt behind her covering her with his body and kissing the nape of her neck. He took her hands and placed them on the headboard, encouraging her to hold on as he slid his hands down her body lingering on her breasts, cupping them in his large hands.
Angel was trembling. This was way out of her comfort zone. She kept waiting for something different—expecting something kinky and cruel. Sam took a long deep breath of her, tracing a path with his tongue across her shoulders and up the nape of her neck. He lowered his head to hover near her ear and whisper. "I'm no going to hurt you. I promise."
He slid his right hand along her side and around to position himself to enter her. She felt him there. He slid into her, filling her then pulled back and waited. "See there?" Sam whispered. "Feels good, hmmm?" he taunted her, making her hotter, her emotions more intense. He breathed in deep. She wondered why he kept smelling her. It was odd, but it was sexy, and she wanted more.
"Tell me." he said.
She couldn't think. Tell him what? She was trembling, wanting. Her emotions were exploding through her.
"Tell me. Hmmmm?" His breath was hot in her ear. He slid into her just a little more. Her hands still grasped the headboard and he reached his left hand to hold on next to hers. Then he reached his right hand around and began to slide down her abdomen. He moved lower grazing across her clit. She gasped, her body tightening around him. "Tell like this. Say it!"
"Oh, yes. Oh, yes, yes, yes!"
He slid in just a little more and moved his fingers across her again. "Say it! Say you like it!"
She was trembling. She thought she might fly apart. She could hear Sam breathing deep, hovering at her ear, smelling her. She'd never been so hot. "I like it. Yes, yes. I love it."
Sam swelled at Angels scream and he slid into her. As he filled her completely his fingers began to circle her sensitive nerves intensly. He began the rhythmic thrusting that led them both to climax and held her tightly to him until the trembling ceased.
When he pried her fingers off the headboard she didn't realize she was still hanging on. He lay down on the bed and encouraged her to lie next to him.
"Not done yet." He said as he cradled her in his arms. He glanced at the clock. Almost midnight. The demon had a pattern of attacking after midnight in the wee hours of the night. She stirred. "Shhhh. Just lie still for a few minutes. Don't talk. Close your eyes." he lifted his leg over hers, wrapping himself around her and closed his eyes. He noticed when her breath became slow and even, relaxing into sleep. But Sam didn't sleep. He was waiting one arm slid under the pillow, holding the machete he had placed there earlier. He was listening for the sounds of an intruder in the Honeymoon Suite.
He counted down the minutes, listening. Midnight arrived. He remained motionless, still waiting. Minutes slipped by into hours. No sounds came. Someone else would be getting nervous, but Sam Winchester didn't get nervous. He waited calmly while Angel slept in his arms. Best for her to stay asleep. It was one of the reasons he wanted her sated.
It was 3am when Sam heard faint sniffing and he knew they were being watched. He heard the popobawa's raspy voice in low whispers. It was coming from behind them in the far corner of the room. He felt the hilt of the machete in his hand. He was ready.
Sam's eyes were still closed, his breathing slow and rhythmic as if sleeping. He couldn't see the demon, but he felt when its muscles began to bunch up. He felt its excitement build, readying itself for its prey. He heard it lick its lips and a faint scratching of claws on the floor as it sprang toward the bed.
Sam sprang into action at the same time the demon took flight. He pushed Angel to the floor. "Get into the bathroom! Lock the door!" he turned to face the demon, machete raised and ready.
The popobawa sat on the end of the bed facing Sam. It seemed small to him. Its face broke into a grotesque grin showing sharp fangs. A long face and pointed ears gave it a bat like appearance. It seemed to grow much larger when it reached out its arms, spreading its wings and bearing its claws. It expected fear from its victims. It got neither fear nor victim from Sam.
He swung the machete at the demon, but it jumped back off the bed avoiding the strike. "What's this?" it hissed. Its wings flapped loudly as it flew at Sam feet first with claws slashing. Sam dodged, whirled around and was able to slice the demons back across the shoulders. Sparks flew from the cut and the demon yowled in pain then snarled as it turned to face its opponent again.
This time it was more cautious. They circled each other slowly. Each ready for the others next move. Sam was focused on the demon, ready to finish the job, and he didn't notice Angel as she stood at the bathroom door. She hadn't done as he told her. She had stopped and turned to look. Now she stood frozen with fear.
The demon decided to change his tactics and go after Angel. He spread his wings flapping and lifting himself to go over Sam to the girl. But he underestimated Sam's height and his determination. As the demon passed overhead, Sam reached up and grabbed its foot, pulling it down and into reach. The demons wings flapped across Sam's face obscuring his vision. It let loose a terrifying scream. Sam held tight to its foot as it flapped about helplessly. Suddenly he let go, swinging the machete around and through the demons neck. Its lifeless body fell to the floor with a thud.
Sam looked down and breathed deeply. The crumpled mass at his feet began to dissipate, dissolving into nothing more than a whiff of smoke, and it was gone. He gave a little smirk. "Easy clean up," he commented to himself. It was a good hunt. Then he looked up to see Angel. Her eyes were wide with disbelief.
"Wha... What the hell... Was that?" she could barely speak.
"A popobawa. An African demon. I told you to go in the bathroom and lock the door. I didn't mean for you to see it."
"You knew it was coming? What the fuck? You almost got me killed."
"But you didn't die. Believe me I wasn't going to let it get you or me. I needed you here. It was a sex demon. It wouldn't have come after me alone. And it needed to smell . . . " he held his hands out indicating the room ". . . sex. The room needed to smell like sex."
"That's what all the sniffing and smelling was about?"
"Didn't think you noticed." Best to leave her thinking that.
"Dude, I thought that was so sexy! I can't believe I let you get to me! I ought to . . . You bastard!"
It was time to end this fight. Sam grabbed her and pulled her against him tightly. It wasn't until then that she realized he was still naked and so was she. He was still pumped from the fight and it didn't take long to redirect that energy. She could feel his erection growing against her.
"Told you, not done yet." He gave her a sexy smile.
He pushed her toward the bed and when she fell back he fell on top of her. He wrapped his hands in her hair and pulled her head back exposing her throat. He kissed the base of her neck and inhaled deeply taking in the scent of her anger and fear. She had just watched him kill a demon and realized he had used her as bait. The scent went through him like a knife. Using his knee he spread her legs and plunged deep inside her. This was what she was used to. It was all about his need. And she knew how to respond to him.
They both dressed in silence and then stood at the door facing each other. She smiled but didn't speak. He reached into his pocket and handed her a roll of twenty's, twice what they had agreed on.
He bent down, his mouth next to her ear, "Now I'm done."