John rarely convinced Sam to put out. He wasn’t like Dean, eager to get down on his knees and suck his cock during the big game. Sam would need to be paid a few hundred bucks John didn’t have to even consider sitting on his lap, let alone wear the lace panties he’d seen in a Victoria’s Secret window that’d really emphasize Sam’s tight ass.
But, John knew how to convince him: he’d sign Sam’s permission slip to go to D.C. in exchange for a fuck. Just them, no Dean—not like he had a choice, anyways, with Dean off on his first solo hunt. Sam wasn’t eager to do it, he had too much of an ego to comply readily to the few rules his father gave him, but he’d have to suck it up if he wanted to see Big Abe.
And suck it up he did. He lied back as John stretched out his tight little pussy. Sam looked newly pregnant with John’s entire cock inside of him, pretty as a picture with his blushing, hard face. John liked how he grimaced at the sight of it, his belly distended by his daddy’s cock. He could only imagine what it’d look like to add Dean’s pretty cock into the mix, the two of them shoved so deep into Sam’s pussy that they’d burst through it with their twin loads. John pushed his long, gangly legs apart to try and shove the last quarter inch of cock into him.
Sam grunted, pain that he was trying to mask, and John sped up, making Sam wince and tear up. John knew that Sam watched shitty crime shows with Dean, he could see him going to the cops and crying rape when he agreed to the conditions John gave him. Anything to fuck up the almost perfect relationship that he and his boys had. If Sam knew what was good for him, he'd keep his mouth shut like the adult he so desperately wanted to be seen as.
John's series of thrusts were rough, he rutted into Sam like he was a bitch in heat and he was trying to pass on his DNA. Each time he canted back into Sam's tight cunt, he admired the sight of his small body struggling to house his massive cock. Next time he really would savor the sight of Sam’s belly.
He felt like an animal seeing Sam wince and hold back whimpers of pain, those little noises only getting John hotter. His little boy had to get used to getting fucked—he couldn't be exclusive with Dean forever, not when he inevitably sought out a wife to give him boys of his own.
Sam cried when John came inside him, he sniffled and brushed away tears that he deemed his father unworthy of, and he dragged himself up off the bed just as quickly as he’d gotten onto it. There was no lingering, no asking if he wanted anything else if he could get it up again, no thanking him for his restraint. John guessed he didn’t deserve that specific thanks, though, not when he saw blood smeared across his cock.
That was all part of the process, though. Dean had gone through it without complaint, Sam was only making things harder for himself by resisting.
John left the signed permission slip on the nightstand for Sam to find in the morning, and he went out for a six pack and pork rinds.