“Stop squirming, you’re gonna kick the camera.” Dean muttered, one hand gripping Sam’s hip so tight, he knew that there would be a bruise there by late afternoon.
Sam moaned in response, hugging the pillow that was made to shield his face tighter, kicking his legs out across the sheets without gaining any traction on them. Dean was teasing him again, each thrust slow and not quite deep enough.
“Come on,” The camera panned down between his legs, he was flushed such a dark shade of red, leaking a puddle on his stomach, one touch and he’d pop off, Dean could tell. “Gonna come from this? Barely even done anything to you, baby brother.”
He sped up a little, getting louder moans before he continued his teasing pace, knowing distantly that this video would be a long one.
