Title: Cherry
Pairing(s): Sam/Jess
Rating: NC-17
Length: 1.7k
Genre(s): Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smutlet (1.7k), Fluff and Smut, Fingerfucking, Pegging, Cunnilingus, Sex Toys, Allusions to Future Rimming
Summary: Sam is gingerly holding up her harness by one strap, the biggest dildo attachment she owns still jutting out from the base, fat and flared. Her boyfriend's face is caught somewhere between "Flee!" and fearful curiosity, and Jess can't help it, she laughs. "See something you like?" she purrs.

Jess is elbow deep in a box full of paper and binders from her freshman year in college— a mix of astronomy notes and a gen-ed lit course called Grimm's Fairy Tales in Context, Jesus, why does she keep this stuff— when she hears Sam make a muffled noise of alarm, reminiscent of a wildebeest sighting a crocodile in the water.

She ignores it, because a lot of things alarm Sam at first, especially now that they're officially living together. Being raised in an all-guy household had left him completely unprepared, to put it mildly, for some of the realities of cohabitation, and she'll never forget his expression the first time she explained why and where she used those strange little tubes in the Kotex box under the sink.

"Uh, Jess?" he asks in a slightly strangled voice, and she sighs, sitting back and shoving sweaty bangs out of her eyes.


"Uh," he says weakly, and she rolls her eyes and turns around, ready to tell him to stop being such a drama queen because it can't be that strange, he's already unpacked the pinecones and the giant box of Precious Moments figurines her great-grandmother sent her every year until the day she died.

Except that instead of porcelain, Sam is gingerly holding up her harness by one strap, the biggest dildo attachment she owns still jutting out from the base, fat and flared. Her boyfriend's face is caught somewhere between "Flee!" and fearful curiosity, and Jess can't help it, she laughs.

"See something you like?" she purrs.

He sputters, "What— why—"

She reaches out and wraps her hand around the thickest part of the silicone shaft, tugging it out of Sam's grip. "I had a boyfriend who liked it."


"To be fucked. Up the ass," she clarifies, because Sam looks like a fuse has blown out somewhere in that big brain she loves so much.

"Oh," he says, eyes glued to her fingers wrapped around the dildo's girth. "Really?"

"I liked it, too," she says, letting her smile go wicked. She sets the harness aside so she can crawl across the floor and put her arms around his shoulders, drawing their faces in close. "I thought it was one of the sexiest things I'd ever seen, him begging for my dick." It's true. She'd kind of forgotten she had the thing, or she might have been tempted to pull it out before now.

He swallows audibly, and she watches his face to see which way this will go. She's not afraid of rejection, because she owns this huge dork, just as thoroughly as he does her. There's the outside chance it's just not his thing, in which case the harness goes back in the box and someday when they're both old and wrinkly one of their grandchildren will find it and then Sam will laugh his ass off while she tries to explain herself. They'll both have dentures and canes and she may or may not dye her hair lavender. It will be fantastic, even if it's not what she wants right now.

"Whadya think, Sam?" she says with an eyebrow waggle. "Wanna take a ride on my disco stick?"

As she'd hoped, he snorts with laughter and presses and quick kiss to her lips, his arms wrapping around her waist. "Maybe," he allows. "Not today. Later."

"Later," she agrees happily, and kisses him again.

"Well, I thought we should probably work up to it," she says that night, batting her eyes at Sam while she runs her tongue under loose skin of his foreskin and uses his own precome as lubricant to rub in tight circles around his hole, over and over and over again.

"I can't—" he says helplessly, grabbing the headboard for dear life and moving his hips in uncertain jerks, "Jess, I'm going to—"

She wiggles the tip of her index finger in, just a little bit, and he comes with a defeated groan, in her hair and all down the side of her face. Still, she counts it as a win.

"Jess, what— oh, what, what the fuck," Sam manages, fingers sliding on the wet tile of the shower wall.

The boy's too damn tall for her to whisper in his ear, so she settles for biting at the wing of his shoulder blade and nudging his legs a little further apart with her thigh, giving her soap-slick fingers more room to work. "Hygiene is important," she says facetiously.

"So is a little warning," Sam groans, but he's canting his hips into her and Jess smiles, her free hand gripping his hip and tugging him back.

"Are you fucking kidding me," Sam whines, and although she can't currently see his face she can well imagine the hectic red of this cheeks and his pleading expression as she slows to a hard, rhythmic grind on his cock, throbbing hot and angry inside her. Reverse cowgirl is the best.

She shakes her head with a manic grin and draws his leg up a little higher, a mess of lube and precome and her own juices making every push and pull of her fingers a smooth slide. Her thumb glides smoothly over his perineum, up between his tight, heavy balls and back down to where he's flushed and twitching around her knuckles.

She crooks her fingers experimentally and Sam yelps, quakes moving through his body and coming out of his mouth in a series of, "Oh, oh, oh—" as she does it again and again, because she's greedy and a little giddy with the satisfaction of feeling him fall apart underneath her, his hands digging into her hipbones hard enough to bruise for days.

"I've got you," she breathes, shifting onto her knees to give him the room he needs to really move. "C'mon, yeah, yeah—"

The day Jess gets her pinky into Sam is the day he rears up and grabs her wrist, growling, "Just get the goddamn dildo already," and is also the day Jess does a graceless little happy dance on the way to the closet.

"You enormous dork," he says, and she throws him a grin over her shoulder as she reaches for the box and pretty much dumps it on the floor to get at the harness.

She'd cleaned it previously but she does it again, just to be sure, and it takes her a second to remember where all the straps go. She's just buckling the last one in place when Sam says, "Would you hurry it up already?"

"Hold your—" But when she turns around he's got his own fingers sunk deep inside, pumping slowly, and damn. "Uh."

Sam smiles at her, drawing the shiny digits free and framing his flushed-pink entrance with two. "Hey, this was your idea," he pants. "Get over here and fuck me."

Jess lunges for the bed and bounces on impact, which has Sam laughing right up until his knees are around his ears and she's sliding the ridged head of the dildo over him, watching as the puckered opening clenches hungrily at her dick. Her giggle might be a little hysterical.

"Shit, yes," Sam moans, spreading his legs wider.

"You asked for it," she says breathlessly, and guides the head up to press into him.

There's a little resistance, and she uses her thumbs to spread him wider as she sinks down, Sam's ass swallowing the dildo whole as he shudders under her, and when their hips are flush she braces herself over his big body, aware of his cock rock-hard against her stomach and the glint of tears at the corner of his eyes.

"'S big," he gasps.

"So're you, baby," she tells him. "Let me know when we're good to move."

His eyes flutter open at that, and he gives her a weak grin. "I can take anything you can dish out, baby."

So she fucks him like that, angling her hips so that she's riding up against his prostate with every thrust and Sam, Sam is a dream, arching back and clutching at the sheets and his hair and her shoulders like he doesn't know which way is up anymore, eyes squeezed shut like she's blinding him until they're forced open wide when she fists his dick and starts a counterpoint rhythm that has him twisting like he's trying to get away, like it's too much. Then he's shouting and shaking apart for her, a flash of white as his eyes roll back in his head and she fucks him right through that, too. Her grin might be a bit manic but she thinks she's earned the right.

The harness is nice but it doesn't have a vibe or clit piece attached, and while Sam's still quaking she gently, oh so gently pulls herself free and unbuckles it, setting it aside while she crawls up his body.

"Help a girl out?" she husks, planting her knees on either side of his face, because he's gorgeous like this, all sweaty and fucked-out, and she'd really like to be the same.

Sam doesn't bother with niceties, just gets his big hands on her thighs and licks in in in and she's dripping, so ready that it's hardly five seconds before she convulses around the best orgasm of her life, trying to keep her grip on the headboard so she doesn't smother him.

She retains enough motor skills to climb off of him, thinks about getting off the bed to grab a washcloth, and sort of collapses across his chest instead, weak-kneed and breathing hard.

Sam grunts and rolls her to the side, snuggling up behind her. His mouth and chin are wet where they nuzzle into her neck and it's somehow adorable.

It a bit, she's going to get up and run a bubble bath in their tiny tub, and she'll pretend it's for her and act surprised when Sam climbs in too. Then she's going to pamper and kiss every inch of him, and convince him to let her try rimming, which is not something she's ever done before but sounds very, very appealing. He'll protest and squirm, and maybe whimper for her when she gets her tongue into him, and wouldn't that be lovely.

She lets Sam pull her closer, burrowing into his heat with a happy sigh. God, she loves this man.

A/N: Behold, the first het I've written in eight years. And lo, it is still all about the buttfucking.