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Red Silk
Title: Red Silk
Author: naughty
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Het / Humor
Summary: Very few things made Dean Winchester sweat. Kate Houston was one of them. And damn, but he loved the color red.
Characters: Dean/OFC
Spoilers: none
Warnings: light bondage, language
Disclaimer: I have absolutely no rights to Supernatural, John, Dean or Sam...damn it. I only worship them from afar.
My love and thanks to cameragrrl   and jdsgirlbev   for their wonderful input and support.


Very few things made Dean Winchester sweat.
Oh, the usual, of course.
Digging graves.
Running from assorted evil entities.
Beating up on the Impala. Well, we won’t talk about that.
And then there was Kate Houston.


He wanted tonight to be perfect.
He hadn’t seen her for two months.
Sixty-two days, to be exact. Not that he was counting.
He had missed her, really missed her.

His long distance phone bill...ok, his weekly phone-sex bill...had gotten very expensive. No, it had gotten insanely expensive. Fortunately for Dean Winchester, he was insanely good at poker and hustling pool.

Red silk. Six long red silk scarves. He had purchased them shortly after she had left for Australia. The lady at the boutique had given him a slightly quizzical look...then a small, knowing smile. Dean had flashed her his best Cheshire Cat grin as he whipped out his cash.

They had met while he was doing some research at her newspaper’s archive department. He and Sam had worked a number of jobs around the Phoenix region, both before and during Kate’s trip. Flagstaff, Yuma, Taos, El Paso. The usual...vampires’ nests and a particularly nasty bitch of a poltergeist.

Kate Houston was smart, gutsy, confident. She wasn’t beautiful or pretty in any classic sense but Goddamn, she was stunning. Dean had damn near broke his neck doing a double take when he first saw her, or rather heard her. She had been in a loud, heated discussion with some guy. Her blue-green eyes flashed fire and plenty of attitude. Of course, Dean was very good at reading women and this one was fearless. Which was a good thing, if you were dealing with Dean Winchester.

Kate had shot him down the first time he’d asked her out. In a fiery ball of flames. But that didn’t stop Dean Winchester. The only thing he loved more than a green light was a red light. He eventually wore her down with Winchester persistence and humor. And the truth. Kinda.

The guy she’d been arguing with, clearly not the victor in that little contest, had stalked off and Dean had taken that opportunity, carrying an archive box, to walk in her direction.

“That guy giving you a hard time?” Dean asked.

“No, not really...he’s just an asshole. I don’t know how in hell he ever got a job here. I have to work with the stupid bastard every day.” she replied, still irritated.

“Yeah, I know what you mean, they’re all over the place.” Dean answered.

“And I suppose you’re not in that category, right?” she smiled.

“Well, I suppose that depends on what you mean by asshole and, Kate.” Dean confidently replied with a smile, as he read her name tag.

She wasn’t expecting that. Not that she knew what she was expecting. But not that. She was momentarily speechless, which rarely happened.

She cocked an eyebrow. “And you would be?”

“Dean. Dean Winchester.” He offered without hesitation. He didn’t have to think about it...all he knew was that it was important to tell her the truth.

“Well, Dean Winchester, what brings you down to the dark, dank halls of the Phoenix Daily Chronicle’s archives?” she queried.

“I’m a ghost hunter. Would you like to go out for coffee?”

“A ghost hunter.” She was clearly not impressed. A pretty boy with a smart ass attitude. He didn’t look remotely like or act like any real ghost hunter she’d ever met, and she’d traveled plenty and seen even more in her ten years at the Chronicle.

“Nice try, Winchester. But you’ll have to do better than that. ” She started walking towards the stairs.

OK, clearly the truth wasn’t going to work here. He generally always got his ass in trouble when he told the truth.

“Hey, wait.” Dean called, as he hurriedly put the box down and followed her.

“OK. Hey, I’ve been reading your paranormal articles and I just couldn’t resist. Gotta give a guy credit for trying. I really loved that one about the Wendigo. Nasty bastards, aren’t they?” he offered.

Kate just stood there, her arms crossed, waiting for the next tall tale.

“OK. The truth. My brother Sam and I work for a supernatural TV show. We’re scouting locations and doing urban legends research. Would you like to go get some coffee?”

The boy was brazen. She had to hand it to him.

“Depends. Got any ID that backs you up?” she challenged.

Thank God for their ever growing box full of fake Ids. Between himself, Sammy, Ash and, they had one of damn near everything.

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean smiled, as he reached for his wallet.

Los Angeles, Ca.
Authorized Signature: Dean Winchester
ID #KAZ2Y5-666

Holding out his ID for her inspection, Dean was grinning like a proud six year old displaying his first frog.

Kate leaned in closer. Damn, the boy was photogenic. ID looked authentic enough.

“Wanna go get that coffee now? Hear they have a bitchin coffee house down the street that serves a mean Double Vanilla Mocha Latte. And those little Philly cheese steak sandwiches.” he asked again expectantly, his face plastered with a wicked grin, both eyebrows cocked.

Damn. The guy was so earnest and fucking enthusiastic. She didn’t have the heart to turn him down again.

“OK, Winchester. But none of that Latte crap for me. I take my coffee straight up, black.” Kate finally conceded.

Dean Winchester thought he just might be in love.


Kate had been on assignment as an investigative journalist in the Australian outback, researching for her series on global paranormal occurrences. She had flown back to San Francisco, stayed a few days to attend a friend’s wedding, before flying back to Phoenix.

Dean picked her up at the Phoenix airport and greeted her with one perfect, red carnation and a hard on.

“Welcome back, sweetheart. Do you have any fucking idea how much I’ve missed you, Kate?”

He grabbed her and gave her a long, deep I’m-going-to-fuck-you-hard-and-good welcome back kiss.

Still swaying from the onslaught of his lips, Kate would have flown another 9,000 miles...hell, double that...just for that one kiss alone. Holy crap. Thank God he was holding her up.

While Dean wanted nothing more than to throw her down on the tiled floor of the Phoenix airport and fuck her till she couldn’t move or talk, Kate insisted that they stop to eat somewhere. Damn, but he loved a girl who appreciated food like he did. She could damn near out-eat him. She’d need a good meal to fortify herself for what he had planned. They stopped off at Tad’s for steak, baked potatoes and Dos Equis beer. Hell, she even burped with proper appreciation when she drank beer. And it wasn’t a polite, womanly burp,, it was Winchester quality. How could he not be attracted to a woman like that?

Dean had never enjoyed eating with a woman more than he did Kate. She ate with such gusto and almost orgasmic exuberance...not unlike himself...that it was all he could do to keep from pushing her back down into the booth, in the darkened corner where they sat, and fucking her right then and there.

They exited the restaurant into the blinding, brilliant sun. Phoenix in July...a scorching, blistering 112 degrees. Gave brand new meaning to hot as hell. Demons would piss, moan and bitch about this fucking heat. Pansy asses.

As they walked towards the Impala, parked several blocks away, Dean abruptly stopped, grabbed Kate around the waist, pulled her in hard to his body and kissed her with wanton abandon. A few passersby woman covertly smiled.

Sweat slicked their bodies as they held each other under the blazing sun, Dean’s hard on pressing into her belly. Sweat trickled down between Kate’s breasts and her face glowed. Sweat ran in rivulets down Dean’s back, as beads of perspiration lined his upper lip, forehead and temples.

“I’m going to fuck you.” Dean whispered quietly into her mouth, his eyes closed.

“I know.” Kate whispered back, as she silently thanked God.

The ride to Kate’s house was one of the longest hours that Dean could ever remember. Not that he didn’t enjoy the hell out of it. The Impala’s windows were rolled down to let in the hot breeze as Kate’s long, gorgeous hair whipped and flew around her face. The sounds of Journey, Led Zeppelin and the Moody Blues filled the highway, together with her laughter at his stupid jokes. And her hand was firmly around his hard on. Jesus. He had to force himself twice to keep from pulling off to the side of the road and fucking her.

The second they were inside the main hallway of Kate’s house and the door was closed, he had her backed up hard against the cool stucco wall, kissed her fiercely, his thigh jammed up between her legs.

After a long while, he broke the kiss.

Mischief in her eyes, she laughingly teased him, “Dean Winchester, I really wish you were more excited to see me.”

“Oh, I’ll show you excited.” he grinned wickedly, as he resumed their heated kiss and pressed his knee even harder between her thighs.

“Wait here.” Dean ordered.

After a minute, he returned and immediately started to remove her clothes. Off came the boots, the black cotton tank top, the jeans and oh...God.

She wasn’t wearing any panties. Fuck. His hard on just got harder. She was standing in front of him, naked, except for her lustrous black silk demi bra and a smile.

Kate had small, perfect breasts...the tops of her nipples were just barely visible over the cups...inviting and tempting him unmercifully. His mouth damn near watered with anticipation. Dean could never quite fathom the attraction for large breasts.

“Close your eyes, Kate.”

He tied a red silk scarf firmly around her eyes, then one around her wrists. He then kissed her again, holding her hard against his middle and index fingers slowly entered her. Such perfect wetness. She made deep, muted moans as he worked his tongue within her mouth and moved his fingers within her. He withdrew his hand gently, brought it to his face, inhaled deeply of her sweet, musky scent; then slowly, his face just inches from hers, seductively sucked his fingers. Clean. Kate heard him and moaned with raw need. Goddamn, he could come right here, right now...but he wouldn’t.

Taking her by her bound hands, the long red silk fluttering between them, he led her silently down the hallway into the cool, quiet sanctuary of the living room. The room was dark, courtesy of heavy drapes drawn against the unforgiving Arizona sun and intense, radiant heat. Pungent, aromatic sandalwood incense, her favorite, permeated the room.

Before them stood a massive glass, mahogany and wrought iron low table, surrounded by four heavy, red wrought iron floor candles, glowing silently.

On the nearest end of the table sat a heavy, black onyx phallus. Its glossy jet black surface shone mirrorlike in the candles’ flickering glow. It was a stunning piece of artwork and craftsmanship, carved with an intricate Mayan design. It was one helluva conversation piece and would make a bitchin paperweight. On the right desk, of course. If he had one, he’d put it on his desk. Dean had bought it a month ago, across the border, while on a trip to help out an old friend of Dad’s.

It was truly impressive. Not that Kate could see it...but she was sure gonna feel it.

Dean guided her the few steps to the end of the table and turned her to face him. He leaned in and softly, slowly whispered into her ear, “No talking. I only want to hear your breathing and mine.”

He kneeled before her.

Placed both his hands on her ass.

Kissed her belly.

He held her bound wrists with one hand, the other guided her firmly downward. He watched carefully as her body came closer and closer to the phallus, its hard, midnight sheen glowing with the candles’ reflected light. Finally, he gently guided her onto its tip. Still kneeling between her legs, both arms around her, his eyes closed and the side of his face pressed up against her breasts, he slowly guided her down. She gasped with surprise and shock...but not displeasure.


Shhh...” He held her until she was fully and finally seated. She took a deep, gasping breath. They remained like that for a long while. Their pounding heartbeats and heavy, rhythmic breathing were the only sounds in the room.

Finally, he reached up and kissed her. Kate had long, luxuriant, intoxicating hair, a rich, dark, sandy blonde. Dean lost himself in it...wrapping his hands in it...burying his face in it...breathing in her heady, womanly scent. If he died right now, he’d die a perfectly happy man. He kissed her again. He could not seem to get enough of her lips and mouth. He then lowered his mouth to find a hard, taut nipple. He alternately suckled hard, swirled his tongue around, then gently nipped the perfect bud, eliciting small, intense gasps from Kate.

After suckling at both breasts, he trailed kisses down her belly till his mouth was buried amid a mass of dark, damp curls. Kate drew in a sharp breath at the intense pleasure. He breathed in deeply and reveled in her womanly scent. As his fingers touched the base of the stone phallus, deeply and fully embedded inside her, his mouth continued its relentless, loving assault on her tender flesh. Finally, her thighs, close around his head, began to quiver and shake with the intensity...and she let go with a cry.

He smiled to himself and slowly sat back on his heels...taking in the full view...savoring each delicious curve, each shadow, each play of light, each movement. He had never seen such a beautiful sight. He wanted to commit this to memory.

He had never been so Goddamn hard.

Rising back up, he stroked her cheek, kissed her lips, then laid down on the cool tile floor, sliding agilely between her legs and beneath the glass table. His face was directly below Kates’s beautiful ass...the black cock buried deeply within her. The soft aura of candlelight made the whole scene almost surreal. He touched the glass with the flat of his hand, his silver ring glinting in the candle glow. It was hot with her heat and wetness. She was slowly rocking back and forth, moaning softly, almost keening. He could see the taut muscles in her thighs and calves working, as she straddled the table.

He thought he just might die of terminal hardness. He closed his eyes, grabbed himself and squeezed hard. Damn, but he could come like this. Just the sight of her.

But he wanted more, way more; he wanted to give more. He wanted to give her everything...all of himself.

Finally, he slowly, reluctantly slid back out and stood up. Wordlessly, he laid her gently back onto the glass table, then slowly, ever so slowly, removed the heavy black phallus. It was hot with the warmth of her and glistened with her wetness. He closed his eyes, licked it slowly, savored the sweet saltiness, then bent and kissed Kate, mixing the juices in his mouth with hers.

“This is what you taste like, Kate. Good.” he whispered into her lips.

He untied her wrists, only to re-tie one of them above her head to one of the table’s wrought iron legs. With additional scarves, he swiftly did the same with her other wrist and both ankles. He then carefully placed a small black damask pillow beneath her ass. He intended to fuck her as deep and as hard as possible, and he wanted every advantage. Dean then slowly took off his own clothes until only his amulet remained. He was mesmerized by his bound, spread-eagled beauty...completely captivated. He knelt at her side, untied her blindfold, then kissed her again.

“I want you to see me when I fuck you. I want to see your face when you come, Kate.” he whispered hoarsely into her ear, as he slipped the scarf from her eyes. She drew a breath to speak. words.” He pressed his finger to her lips.

By this time, he had a full-on raging erection. It was standing straight up, it’s swollen head reddish-purple. Dean swiftly and smoothly moved onto the glass table, positioned himself between her legs, grabbed the corners of the table and in one long, slow, hard thrust, buried himself inside Kate.

She gasped sharply and loudly. Then he STOPPED stone still. His eyes, heavy with passion, locked with hers. He lowered his head and kissed her passionately. The suddenness of Dean’s powerful cock buried to the hilt inside her, together with his voracious kiss, proved too much for Kate. Her thighs again began to shake with fine spasms, and she came almost total silence...except for her long, muted cry against Dean’s mouth as he continued to kiss her. As she continued her high, he pulled himself into her even deeper. Her body shuddered with the intensity of her orgasm.

By this time, Dean could barely hold it together, but he steeled himself. Still not moving, he rode out Kate’s whole body orgasm like a tidal wave. He felt every single quiver and contraction her body made, especially the tight, rhythmic pulses around his cock. Jesus. Only stubborn Winchester resolve saved him.

As she came down and her breathing returned to somewhat normal, Dean stroked her hair and kissed her neck. He rested his head on her breast. God, he never wanted to leave this place. He felt safe...loved...loving. He never wanted to leave her.

Every several seconds, as she continued to slowly come down from her high, he simply tightened his ass, giving her a tiny, but powerful mini-thrust...just to hear her make that little gasp-like moan and keep her riding her high as long as possible. He smiled to himself. Yeah...he was bad like that.

As soon as her heartbeat and breathing were pretty much back to normal, Dean started moving inside her, for real now. Slow, short, hard, deep strokes. Rhythmic and rocking. Pressing in more than pulling as to maintain that constant, critical contact with her. In about two minutes flat, Kate stiffened, arched her neck and head back, cried out and was coming all over him again. Her body convulsed and contracted around him hard...relentless and rhythmic. God, he fucking loved it. She was so Goddamn beautiful when she came. This time he couldn’t stop himself if he wanted to. He grabbed her tight, kissed her, crushed her to him and exploded inside of her. Holy fuck. He thought he was gonna pass out. He hadn’t come that hard in...well, never.

Later, in Kate’s bed, they slept the deep, languid sleep of sated lovers. He awoke first, drew her closer to him, tenderly brushed the hair from her face and kissed her. She stirred, only half awake.

He gently pulled the bedspread up over her exposed arm and breasts, got up and silently padded to the kitchen.

When he returned, she was sitting up, her long, deep sandy hair tumbling wantonly around her like a golden mantle. Fuck, she was beautiful.

“Dean?” she whispered, her voice still heavy with sleep. She saw him approaching the bed, the soft light from the hallway surrounding him in shadowed silhouette. He was carrying a tray.

“Hey, beautiful.” he murmured.

He very carefully placed the tray on the bed, then climbed back in. It was laden with two huge, luscious pieces of pie and two tall glasses of milk.

He smiled a huge smile at her as he handed her a plate, then grabbed the other.

“Marie Callender’s Cherry. Made a special trip before I picked you up. We had to have dessert tonight.” he explained, as he eagerly dove in.

Kate leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Holy fuck. The man gave her scorching hot sex and cherry pie. What the hell was not to love?

“Dean Winchester, you never cease to amaze me.” she smiled contentedly, as she tasted her first bite.

“I know.” he grinned, his mouth full with sweet, juicy cherries.

Life, at that moment, for Dean Winchester, was perfect. And he knew that, before the sun rose in the morning, he would fuck his Kate good and hard again.

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Well, you already know what I think of your fic but I'm making it official! Great Job Ferret. HOT HOT HOT!!! and Kate's cool.

*ahem* whoa. that...was hot. *fans self*
hahaha, funny thing though...i was trying to figure out this damm LJ, and i accidently clicked into this...thanks for the surprise!!!

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