"Show me," Anna coaxes. Dean's always surprised by the strength in her grip, especially when she puts him up against a wall and keeps him there. Anyone else, and he'd assume they were about to kill him. Anna just might, but it'll be a damn good death. She pushes flush against him, mouth on his. "Dean, you promised." Her fingers are in the loops of his jeans, pulling his hips to hers. One of Dean's hands is still flat against the wall, but the other cups the side of her face as he deepens the kiss to make her quiet.

A few more minutes, that's all he needs.

Anna breaks the kiss, eyes wide with concern at his continued hesitance. "Do you want to stop?" She leans back, but Dean cuts that short, wrapping his arm around her to keep her close.

"No, I'm gonna let you see," he tells her. "I'm just building up the suspense a little." In the right light, Anna's eyes glow. Dean's entranced by it, that divine power that runs right under the surface of her skin, that lets her push him around but heal his bruises, too. Her eyes narrow, and he can't help but try to turn away when she sees straight through him. She does it every time and has since they met. Maybe someday he'll learn better than to lie to her. She follows his mouth, pressing kisses to the corner and over his cheek.

"You're not hard," she says, and the bluntness of it hurts even if she doesn't mean it to. On the contrary, her voice is gentle, and her touch is, too, as she skims her fingers up his body, pushing his shirt up to feel the curve of his belly. Dean lets his head hit the wall behind him.

"I will be," he insists. "Just give me a minute."

"No, you won't," Anna says, knowingly. She's slept with him enough times, encountered this particular roadblock more than half of those nights, and she knows his dick better than he does.

Dean swallows, humiliated. It's one damn thing his body could do for him, and it won't. His dick hasn't worked right since he got back from Hell. He'd spent a long time afraid Heaven had put him back together wrong, but then he'd had Anna in the backseat of the Impala and boom, fully functioning, enough to make her come so hard, she spurted all over his chest while riding him. He'd thought that was it, one quick fix to get him back in gear, but then, nothing. Not a twitch, not even the next time he saw Anna. He'd hidden it well enough for a while, or thought he had.

He'd expected Anna's visits to peter out once she realized he was more likely to spend the night soft than be able to fuck her.

"Dean," she murmurs, "can I see?" She will back off if he tells her to. She has before.

Part of him wants to.

"Go ahead," he says instead, not hiding his lack of enthusiasm. It makes her frown as she presses another kiss to his jaw.

Anna slides down his body. He looks down at her. If nothing else, seeing his gorgeous girlfriend on her knees about to take his dick out should rev his engine. He can feel his arousal wound tight in his gut, but it doesn't translate. His dick doesn't even get a pitiful chub. Anna unbuttons his jeans with a snap and tugs the zipper down. Underneath, rather than his usual boxers, there's soft pink satin covering his dick. Anna gasps when she sees it like it's the most beautiful thing she's ever laid eyes on, and despite Dean's current discomfort, he feels his cheeks flush.

He'd been sure this would work. Talking about it with Anna had made him a little hard, hearing her tell him how much she wanted to see him in panties and how pretty she knew he would look, all while she rubbed against him. The real thing should have him like steel, but instead...

Dean raises a hand to his face. "I'm sorry," he says.

"Dean-"

"No, I thought- You shouldn't have to put up with this." Anna looks up at him, her hand on his thigh.

"Is that what you think I'm doing? Putting up with you?" she asks. She sounds insulted, and he backpedals.

"I don't- I'm the one who's broken, you're- Son of a bitch," he finishes with a mutter, letting his head fall back against the wall. He takes a deep breath. Anna's thumb rubs over his thigh through his jeans, back and forth. He can't make himself meet her eyes.

It was always going to be only a matter of time before he ruined this, too.

Anna tugs his jeans further down his legs. Dean makes a face, but before he can say anything, he feels her lips press against his inner thigh. Anna kisses her way down one and up the other, keeping him still with a deceivingly gentle grip. When she reaches his hip, she jumps over the pretty pink fabric stretched across it to kiss his belly instead. She lifts a hand to stroke his love handles as he feels her sucking a hickey near his belly button. She only moves on when she hears him grunt. The bruise she's made isn't going to fade for a week at least. She nuzzles into his happy trail, rubbing her cheek against his hair with a delighted sigh, pressing into his soft stomach.

And not a thing she does gets Dean's dick going.

"I keep coming back because I like you," Anna says. She noses against his belly one last time before pulling back. Her hands slide to his hips, running her fingers over the panties. Dean's caught, shame telling him to look away and every other part of him longing to see her, to touch her. "Not because I have to. I wouldn't be here if I didn't enjoy every part of you, exactly as it is." Dean doesn't know if its weakness or strength, but he looks down. Anna knows. She meets his gaze, and all he can think about is the little patch of freckles he can see on her nose. She's beautiful. Anna dips her head, leans forward, and murmurs, "The same way you do for me." She places a kiss against his soft dick through his panties.

"Anna-" Dean starts.

"If you come back with any more self-hatred after everything I just-"

"I love you." He doesn't mean to say it. Hell, he didn't even know it was waiting there on the tip of his tongue until it's already spilling out of him. Dean has caught Anna off-guard very few times since he's met her. She's too good at reading him.

But those words make her stare at him in shock.

Dean reaches out to bring her up to him. He tugs on her shoulder, and that's all the prompting she needs to shoot up and press him back into the wall again. Dean wraps his arms around her as he leans down for a kiss. She can't stop touching him, running her hands up his belly to his chest, over his arms, falling to his hips again. Dean pulls her in closer until he can feel how hard she is. He smiles against her mouth. It's hard to get her naked when he can't stop kissing her, but he's got plenty of practice. Only her shirt getting dragged over her head interrupts them, and Dean can see how pretty she is in the moments they break apart with her pupils blown wide with arousal and her tongue sliding along her lips before Anna cups his face and moves in for more.

Dean makes it obvious where his hand is going. He feels the tickle of her bush before he wraps his hand around her shaft. Anna sighs in pleasure as he strokes her. "You like that?" Dean asks, voice low, but it makes Anna chuckle anyway.

"You think?" She rocks up into his hand. He loves how her dick feels. She likes a looser grip than he does, a slower pace, but when he finds it, she starts making the sweetest noises with each pump. "Dean," she moans. Her heavier breaths make her tits press into him, and he doesn't waste another second before getting his free hand on her chest. She's always sensitive there. Her dick twitches in his hand as he squeezes. He'd get his mouth on them if she'd back up a little, but instead, she scoots closer, asking, "Can I do something?"

"What?" She kisses him again, knocking any chance for wariness right out of him.

"Trust me." Dean lets her take the reins, following her instruction through touch as she adjusts his grip on her cock. She thrusts forward, her movements slow but purposeful, and Dean feels her rubbing against his soft dick through the fabric of his panties. The panties cup his cock, feeling so good as Anna's thrusts causes them to slide around him. He lets out a noise he didn't intend to, surprised at how much he likes it. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he breathes. He lets his head tip back on her next thrust, and Anna nips under his chin playfully. He can feel the warmth of her through his panties. His cock isn't hard, but it's still sensitive as she rubs against it.

"You're so pretty like this," she tells him. He can feel her excited breaths against his throat, the vibration of her words between her lips as they move across his skin. He flushes, heat blooming across his face.

"Not half as pretty as you," he tries, badly, to distract her. Anna plucks his chin and turns his eyes down to meet hers.

"I think you give me a run for my money," she says before pecking him on the lips. Dean moans again as she presses flush to him, little rolls of her hips putting pressure on his soft cock. "If you were hard, you'd be straining the fabric, slipping over the waistband, but instead, you're cradled in there where you belong." Anna reaches down, cupping his dick through his panties. Her hand feels as good as her dick does, finding the outline of his limp dick and petting it. She grinds into him as her dick drips precome. It leaves dark stains over his panties.

"You're getting them messy," he tells her. They're both looking down. Anna rubs the head of his cock through his panties, and Dean grunts, turning to press his face into her hair. She smells sweet.

"We're both going to," she says. "I'm not stopping until- ah!" Her breath catches when he grabs her ass and pulls her into him. Her dick slides off-course, bumping against the bottom of his belly, but she's not complaining. "Not until we both come and ruin your pretty panties."

"I don't think I can-"

"You will." She sounds so sure of herself that he doesn't even try to keep arguing.

He should know better than to doubt her. Anna squeezes his dick through his panties, and he feels his first twitch of the night. Heat is swirling through him, arousal fanned higher with each of Anna's thrusts. Even when she doesn't slide against his dick, just feeling her using his body, his panties, to get herself off makes his head fuzzy. Her thighs and ass work under his hands to rub them together. She holds onto his arm, her breaths coming faster and sharper. Her moans are barely stifled.

"Close?" he whispers to her, and she huffs. Another moan escapes her open mouth before she can retort,

"Not- not before you." He can't even tell if he's going to come or not. He feels fantastic, and the pressure of her quick thrusts only makes it better. He's still not hard, but all the worries he had earlier have drained completely out of him. If Anna enjoys it, that's all that matters.

"I want you to come," he says. Anna sucks in a breath, trying to hold herself back from the edge. "Come on, baby, get me dirty." Her exhale comes out in a rush, her body tensing against his before she finally lets go. Her dick spurts hot and wet over his panties, making him groan as she slumps into him. Her hips move in little jabs, dripping come down his panties and his leg. A little even smears against the bottom of his belly as Anna moans happily. He runs his hand through her hair, nuzzling the top of her head as she comes down.

When she does, there's determination in her eyes, and her grip on him brokers no argument. He's staying against that wall for as long as she wants, whatever she wants to do to him. As she goes back to her knees, he realizes what that is, and when her mouth closes around his cock over his panties, he moans. He's already soaked with her come, but she mouths at his cock, getting his underwear even more wet. "Fuck, Anna." Her eyes flick up as she drags her tongue over his cock. She's licking up her own come, too. Dean feels- He can't even describe it. He's never felt like this during sex, like his pleasure is radiating through his whole body, not just focused on his dick. It's too intense for him to resist it.

Anna tries to pull his cock into her mouth as best she can through his panties, and Dean comes with a punched-out grunt, his hips pulsing forward. Anna keeps him steady, slowing him so that she can lick his dick as it leaks come into his panties. He ruins them completely. Anna lifts the corner of one side away from his thigh, enough that he can feel the back pull tight against his ass and the tip of his limp dick fall out. She laps at the head, tasting the last few drops of his orgasm. Dean curses under his breath. He could come a second time if she kept doing that, licking his oversensitive, soft cock until it spills out an even thinner load. He's not sure he would survive it.

Anna stands. He can taste himself when she kisses him.

"Do you believe me now?" she asks. "Because I really, really like this about you." She strokes his dick gently, making Dean exhale a quiet chuckle.

"Yeah, I believe you."

"All of it," she emphasizes, "when you're in panties, when you're soft..."

"I believe you," Dean repeats, bumping his forehead against hers. Anna smiles.

"Good."