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  1. Naomi had only agreed to let Dean ride along if he could be quiet, and of course, he couldn't be, especially after Jey lit a blunt and passed it around. Naomi just wanted to mellow out, listen to music, and not get paranoid about driving high and tipsy, (no, not the best decision, but she was in the best condition to do so), but Dean was making that an impossibility. Even after Jey, in the backseat beside him, put in his earbuds, and closed his eyes, Dean babbled incessantly. Neither Jimmy nor Naomi encouraged him, but Dean went on and on about: how his dog, Buster, got in the kitchen garbage and made a huge mess; a tornado he'd witnessed as a boy that took out a Blockbuster Video; and even about seeing Erick Rowan naked in the locker room once, his firey-red bush completely hid his junk. And, he didn't even stop there. Dean yapped about craft beer, pancakes, how much he couldn't stand Bo Dallas- “Dean!” Naomi snapped. Dean leaned forward, his head between the driver and passenger seats. “Present!” “Boy, believe me, I know. Can you do me a favor and just shut the hell up for a few minutes? Your chatter is giving me a headache.” “Oh, sorry, sure, Naomi.” Dean sat back, and stared out the window into darkness. Naomi sighed with relief and relaxed a little. She fiddled with the rental car's radio and found nothing but those two middle of nowhere staples; Christian and Country. Disappointed, she clicked off the radio, enjoyed the silence. Husband asleep in the passenger seat, his twin the same in the seat behind him. Dean, who she could see in the rear view mirror, wasn't sleeping, but at least he was still quiet. He was leaning on his elbow, looking out the window. But, nature was calling Dean, so he couldn't be quiet forever. “Naomi? Can you pull over? I gotta use the little boys' room.” “Already?” Naomi rolled her eyes. “Shit, Dean...” “No, not 'shit', I need to pee.” Dean began to fidget. “I know that. I can't pull over and risk a DUI, so you'll just have to wait.” “I can't; I broke the seal,” Dean whined. “Come on, Naomi, just pull over. I'll be quick about it.” Naomi shook her head. “I can't risk it, Dean. I'll stop someplace proper as soon as I can, but for now you're just going to have to suck it up and hold it.” Even in his intoxicated state, Dean could understand Naomi's reasoning, but it didn't solve his problem. He had to pee so badly he couldn't even get comfortable. Blushing, he looked about the car for anything he could find relief in, but seemed to be out of luck. “Naomi, please,” Dean begged. “I can't hold it much longer, seriously, I can't.” “Just shut up and think about something else!” It was the same thing her mother would say to her when she whined about needing to go, and the bathroom wasn't available. “How can I?” Dean asked. “I'm about to pee my pants!” He squirmed and whimpered. “Dean, you're not going to pee your pants. You're an adult, you can wait,” Naomi said, in a gentler, more patient voice. “I really can't. If you don't pull over, I'm going right here.” Dean knelt up on the seat, unrolled the window, and started undoing his jeans. “You wouldn't dare-” “Yes, I would.” Dean cut her off, and began trying to pee out the window. Not an easy task from a moving vehicle, at an upward angle, fighting the wind, and Dean made a mess before he managed to stop. “Fuck, Dean!” Naomi snapped, but she did pull over, and Dean hopped out to finish peeing, in the ditch at the side of the road. “Tinkle tinkle, little star,” he sang to himself, as he peed forever. “Dean?” Naomi called. “Yeah?” “Shut up. And, hurry up.” Dean shook off and put himself back together, headlights were approaching in the distance. He got back in the car, comfortable and satisfied with himself. He saw Naomi looking at him in the rear view mirror and smirked at her as she pulled back onto the highway. Naomi handed him a travel size package of antibacterial hand wipes. “Clean up your mess. Fuck, Dean, that was nasty!” She watched him in the mirror, to make sure he didn't miss anything. “You left me with no other options,” Dean lipped back, as he wiped drips of his pee away, off the door and the back of his seat. “If I could have held it, or found a more discrete way of dealing with it, I would have. I didn't want to try to do that, but it was either that or wet my pants.” “Don't you have an ounce of discipline?” “I had a lot to drink.” “My point exactly. We all drank tonight, but you're the only one who broke their seal and tried to pee out the window of a rental car, while it's moving at eighty-five miles an hour. I remember you saying something at the club about drinking more because you can. You think you're such a bad ass.” Dean flashed her another cocky smirk. “Yes, I'm a bad ass. I'm a rebel. I'm unstable. I'm the lunatic fr-” “Just a nasty boy,” Naomi sneered. “No discipline, no self-control.” “Come on now, Naomi, you know that's not true. I just like to have a good time when I can, and tonight was one of those nights I could.” “Only because I agreed to drive you, even if I came into the deal at the last minute.” She thought angrily of Jey, who'd brought Dean into their night in the first place, for a bag of weed. “And you thank me for it by peeing in a rental car that's in my name.” Dean blushed. He felt bad about that, but really, he'd had no other choice. “I'm sorry, Naomi, but if I'd wet my pants, it would've made even more of a mess in the car.” “Yeah, maybe. You need to learn how to behave yourself.” “Psh,” Dean stretched back in his seat. “I'm a gentleman.” “Ha!” Naomi snorted. “If you're a gentleman, then I'm a flat-assed white girl.” “Come on, Barbie, let's go party,” Dean retorted in song. “Barbie? I know you just didn't call me...Ooooh...” Naomi was quickly becoming frustrated. “Boy, you need to learn some manners. You're disrespectful to ladies, you talk all night, you party too hard, you need to pee like a puppy, you're a gossip, and-” “What are you going to do about it?” Dean wanted to know, and posed the question in a cocky, yet flirty, tone. “Are you going to teach me some manners?” He felt himself getting hard, and had to adjust the way he lay in his jeans. The gesture, no matter how discrete, was not lost on Naomi. She smiled as inspiration struck. “You bet your sweet ass I will. When we stop for the night, your schooling will begin, Mr. Ambrose.” “Oooh, I can't wait,” Dean quipped casually, but the bulge in his tight jeans betrayed him. At a rest stop, Naomi ordered Dean to get out and use the bathroom properly so he wouldn't pee in the car again. Surprisingly, he obeyed, and after he got out, she spotted his wallet lying on the seat and snatched it. Then, she woke the twins and told them of her evil plan. Of course, Jimmy, the good man he was, was very supportive, and Jey was down because Jimmy was. When Dean returned, Naomi and the twins excused themselves and resumed plotting. Dean had no idea what was in store for him. When they returned to the car, Dean immediately started babbling about how he'd run into Roman Reigns on the way to the men's room. Jey said that was cool, and produced another blunt rolled from the ounce Dean had procured in Chicago. Naomi and Jimmy lulled Dean into a false sense of security with vending machine munchies, and the promise of continuing the party at the motel. No one mentioned Dean's failed attempt to pee out the window, so he mostly forgot about it, and Naomi's idle, sexy threats. Upon arriving at the casino, Dean couldn't find his wallet. He felt around in the car's nooks and crannies, and was patting around on the floor when Naomi asked: “Looking for this?” She showed him his wallet, then handed it off to Jimmy. “You can have it back after we get our rooms. Wait here.” Dean waited in the car, he really had no other choice since his driver's license, but not his money, was in his wallet. Until Naomi had produced his wallet, he'd forgotten all about the scolding and mild flirting earlier. Now, all alone, he began getting horny again, and casually squeezed his hard on through his jeans. He was about to unzip when Naomi and the twins returned. Dean tried to look innocent as he emerged from the car, and tied his hoodie around his waist to hide the godawful hard on. He grabbed his two bags, and Naomi handed him two more. Jimmy and Jey grabbed their things, and two cases of beer. Dean whooped, and ran ahead to the hotel, swinging the bags. “I want to be an airborne ranger! I want to go where there is danger!” Naomi and the Usos laughed so hard they missed the rest of Dean's rendition of the song. They were laughing at the irony Dean wasn't yet aware of. They rode a glass elevator to their fourth-floor rooms. Naomi used a keycard to unlock 417, a suite with a king size bed. Dean wondered if it was his. Since he didn't know, he sat down on a chair in the sitting area, his, and Naomi's, bags at his feet. Naomi snagged one of her bags and disappeared into the bathroom. Jimmy offered him a beer, and he accepted, toasting with the twins on having made it through another week of performances. Jey pulled a box of dominoes from his bag, and soon he and his brother had a game going, which Dean could not be made to understand, so after Jimmy was defeated, Jey traded the dominoes for a deck of cards, and dealt out king's corner, which he knew Dean could play, since he'd taught him last year. Naomi came from the bathroom, fresh from the shower, wearing a fluffy pink robe and matching slippers. She nodded at the twins, and they grabbed Dean. “Put him in that chair.” Naomi pointed at one of the four chairs around a small, round table, and Dean was forced into it. Okay, he wasn't fighting at all, really. His wrists and ankles were secured to the chair's arms and legs with leather straps. Then, the twins took their things, including the beer, and left, leaving Naomi and Dean alone. “Here's your wallet.” Naomi placed it in his crotch. Her hand brushed against his hard on; he'd become immediately aroused when Jimmy and Jey tied him to the chair, he loved being bound. Dean wasn't sure if Naomi's touch had been accidental or deliberate, but it made precum dribble out. She stood three feet in front of him and threw off her robe dramatically. She was wearing soft pink whisper and a promise lingerie, which drove Dean even more nuts, a chiffon babydoll and matching lace thong than enhanced her ballooning bust, wasp waist, and gorgeous, music-video ass. “School's in session, Mr. Ambrose.” She began to erotically twist and gyrate before him, like a stripper just warming up. “And you... You're like school in the summertime.” Dean knew the punchline, but, feeling punchy, he bought in anyway. “School in the summertime?” “Yeah, school in the summertime...No class!” Naomi danced around him, watching his eyes grow hungry with desire. She could also see he was hard, and had begun to shift uncomfortably in the seat. “What's the matter? Balls itch?” She asked. “No...I need to...um...adjust myself.” Dean blushed. “Want me to pull those ball-crushing jeans down?” Dean couldn't help but smile. “Yeah.” Naomi undid his jeans, and Dean raised his hips so she could peel them down to his shins. His somewhat freed cock was no longer uncomfortable and contorted, it was pitching a major tent in his tighty whities. She gave him a sly smile and continued her dance of seduction, which became a full on lap dance, as she rubbed her body against his, touched herself, and dry humped him until he was panting. He was nearing an explosion, he was going to cum, and she suddenly, spryly, left his lap. She smiled, and wagged a finger at him. “No cumming for you. Not until I say you can.” Orgasm deprivation! Dean couldn't believe it. It was one of his fantasies being fulfilled, so it only made him want to cum even more, but he was thrilled. He looked down at his sticky briefs, gone transparent around the purplish head of his god awful hard on. He would do his best to obey her, but it had been a few days since he'd had a chance to cum. Naomi titled Dean's chair back gently, all the way to the floor, so Dean was on his back. She stood over him, and stripped off the lingerie. She spread her long, nimble legs and settled atop his chest, dusky jewel just beyond the reach of his mouth. He could smell her lovely musk, pheromones, and he longed to taste her so much his mouth watered a little. She grinded on his chest as she worked her clit, leaving her juices all over him. She had the sweetest, sexiest little cries of pleasure. Dean's cock, as well as his balls, were aching. He longed for her to slide down his belly, and ride him. He'd popped out of the waistband of his briefs in this new position, and his lower belly was cold, where more precum had dribbled. “Oh, Naomi, this is torture!” He cried out, and struggled against his restraints as she came. He felt her orgasm on his chest, and it had been quite intense. Dean moaned, his manhood aching more than ever. One touch would send him into an orgasm of his own, but he knew she wouldn't touch him. “Sorry,” she said, casually, after she'd recovered. “While you may not be able to cum, I still can.” She got up off his chest, and brought his chair back upright. “Let's take a little break. Recess.” Dean, red and sweaty, nodded. “Yeah.” He hoped Naomi would put some clothes on. He needed to try to calm down. “Would you like a beer?” Naomi asked. “Actually, I'd love some water. I'm done with the hard stuff for tonight.” Dean looked at his lap and chuckled at the bad, unintentional pun. Naomi got a bottle of water, put a straw in it, and pushed Dean up to the table so he could drink. He polished it off and she got him a refill. “I'm glad to know you've got a limit,” she quipped. “Mhmm, I do. What I'd really like is some of that weed, though. I did go in on that zip, and I was the one out looking for it, putting my ass on the line.” “Well, you've been a good school boy so far. I guess you deserve a little treat.” Naomi pulled on a neon yellow velour jogging suit. “I'll get you some of that electric tobacco.” “Naomi? Can you put my jeans back on? I kind of feel like an ass sitting here with my pants down around my ankles.” Naomi chuckled, and pulled his jeans back up. “I'm not zipping them up. I don't want to hurt you.” “Thanks.” “Enjoy your recess. I'll be back.” Dean drank the rest of his water. His hard on faded away, and he didn't feel so much like a bull in heat anymore. Naomi could've at least left the tv on for her captive, but she didn't, so he was left to listen to the sounds of the hotel, and it wasn't even a busy one. If anyone passed by the room, they did so quietly. He did hear a loud thud and a shout of “FUCK!” from directly below, and giggled to himself. He fell asleep in the chair, and awoke with a start. He had no idea how long he'd been out, but he needed to pee, really bad. He looked around the room for Naomi, but she hadn't apparently returned. He did locate a clock, and saw that it was close to 3:30, so she'd been gone almost an hour. Her things were here, so she'd come back eventually. Dean shifted in his chair to a slightly more comfortable position and tried going back to sleep, but it was useless. He had to pee first, and soon. Just in case she had returned, and was out of his line of vision, he called out to her. “Naomi? Hey, Naomi?” No response. “Fuck,” Dean muttered to himself. Unless Naomi showed up to free him in the next few minutes, he was going to pee all over himself, it was something that he'd known could happen when he was bound. He held on the best he could, curling his toes and biting his lips, breathing hard and squirming as much as he could in his restraints. But, he couldn't take it anymore. Pee flooded his lap, turning his briefs transparent and his jeans dark. “Oh, fuck...” Dean tried to stop, but his bladder cramped painfully, and he gave up. He relaxed. The relief was all that mattered at that point, not how it was happening. He could hear his pee running off the chair and splattering on the carpet. He was sitting in a puddle, and he was still going. He felt naughty, but there was nothing he could do about it. Finally, he was done, and completely soaked. He began to wonder if Naomi would ever come back. If she did, would she bring the twins? Or, would be left alone until tomorrow, for housekeeping to find? His wet clothes were getting cold. About five minutes later, she did return. Dean was relieved to see she was alone. She put a blunt on the table, and her hand on the table to steady herself. She was fucked up. Then, she saw Dean's wet clothes, and the puddle under his chair. But, rather than the scolding and possible spanking he'd been half-expecting, Dean heard the music of Naomi's laughter. “You...you...peed your pants during recess!” She squealed, before she collapsed into a chair in a fit of laughter. “Yeah, yeah,” Dean said, embarrassed. “Can you let me out now? I'm starting to get cold.” “Hmm? What?” Naomi looked up at him from the crook of a folded arm, still giggling. Her eyes were lab rat red. Dean tried again. “Can you undo my straps? Please. I want to shower and change, I'm freezing.” “Oh yeah, of course.” She stumbled over, and undid the strap on his right hand. Dean was able to do the rest himself. “Damn boy, you really made a mess.” “Yeah, I sure did.” Dean grabbed his bag and headed off to shower. The troublesome hard on did not come back. After toweling dry, Dean debated at his open bag; jeans or sweats. He decided on sweats, and one of his old promo shirts, a white one with the word “UNSTABLE” printed across the front in messy black letters; his pjs. Fuck Naomi and the twins if they still wanted to party at four-thirty in the morning. He had had enough fun for one night. When he came from the bathroom, Naomi had left, taking her things with her. But there was a hotel notepad beside the blunt, a note in Naomi's girlish handwriting. D- Going to sleep. Enjoy your night off, and remember what I said ***NO CUMMING!*** Class resumes tomorrow. -N Dean doubted he could cum right then even if he wanted to disobey her, he was too tired. He decided to save the blunt for tomorrow morning, half for a wake and bake, half for a post-breakfast treat.
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