julie’s bangs appreciation blog

Stroke.

Another stroke.

Come on, Dex.

Grunt.

Come on, Dex.

Next second, he's spilling over the bathroom tiles with a hitching breath, but nothing. Nothing creeps from his stomach up his spine and into his brain. Nothing soothes his weary mind and body with white-hot pleasure. No warmth, no stars behind the eyelids, no shivers, no buckling of the knees. Nothing.

Fuck.

Dex lets out a deep sigh and leans his forehead on the shower wall. Ever since he got prescribed new medication all of his attempts to coax an orgasm out of himself have been fruitless. And now he just stands here under the warm spray, shoulders slumped, already softening shaft still in his hand as he squeezed it tighter trying in vain to feel anything in his brain. Nothing. His face crumpled as he slid down the wall to sit in the tub, water from the showerhead still running gently over his body. Faint sobs were shaking his frame now, tears running down his cheeks and mixing with the water and his spent that was pouring smoothly down the drain.

Broken.

Useless.

Good for nothing piece of shit.

You can't even jerk off like normal people.

Vile.

Disgusting.

Another violent sob rippled through his body, his shoulders shaking, tears and snot running down his face.

What is wrong with me?

And just like that, nights were changing, but not his inability to climax.

Until…

The first time you even joked about sex he was petrified. Not just because he was a virgin—it was a big reason nonetheless—but because of his… little problem. What if you would laugh at him? Even worse, what if you would hate him?

That's when he started learning. Educating himself to compensate for his inexperience and this defect of his with knowledge. Sleepless nights of him reading and watching and writing things down and practicing his movements… His poor pillows really saw everything.

Eventually, the time had come. The two of you were heading home from some kind of party your friends were throwing—a concept not entirely foreign for Dex, but still surprising enough that someone has considered inviting him to one. Both of you were holding hands and giggling; you—because the cocktails made you tipsy, Dex—because he was just so happy to be here and spend the evening with his girlfriend.

After Dex walked you home, you lingered in the doorway, batting your eyelashes innocently at him.

“I thought… hic I thought that maybe you could stay…?” you murmured, fidgeting with your fingers. How could he refuse when you were looking at him so sweetly?

A couple of minutes later, both of you were making out on your couch, one of your hands groping his pectoral, the other one tangled in his hair, pulling on the blonde strands.

“Mhmmm, Dex…” you whine into the kiss, grinding your hips down slowly onto his growing bulge. “You're so handsome, it's unfair…”

Dex can't help but whimper softly at the praise, hands grabbing everywhere he can reach; he ends up sliding them under your shirt, his lower stomach tingling at the feeling of your soft skin under his palms.

“Nghhh, want you…” you moan against his lips. “Want you so bad… I know… shhh… I know that it's spontaneous, but… please, baby…” you continue murmuring sweet nonsense against his skin, trailing kisses from his lips to his chin and placing the softest smooch on his dimple, up his jaw and down the column on his neck, pausing at the juncture where it meets the shoulder. You suck a faint mark on the skin there, nibbling it lightly with your teeth before soothing it with your tongue.

Dex's mind was in a haze. He didn't remember how he returned the kisses with equal fervor, didn't remember how he unbuttoned his shirt and unzipped his jeans, didn't remember how he ended up in your bed with only his boxers on and a very prominent wet spot on their front, too.

Fuck.

It's happening.

It's really happening.

You pawed at his pecs then trailed your palm down the ridge of his abs and stopped just under his navel, fingertips teasing the trail of darker blonde hair leading down where you were shamelessly staring with a seductive smile. Dex freezed. Shit. Fuck. What if I won't… What if she'll hate me… What if…

As if you sensed his nervousness, you leaned forward and kissed him, slow and passionate, licking into his mouth with a soft moan. That seemed to shut his thoughts right up because he began rolling his hips against your thigh, searching for any friction he could find. He gasped when your hand found its way under the band of his boxers, fingers closing around his already hard and leaking cock.

“That's it, baby…” you cooed at him, swiping the pad of your thumb over his sensitive tip. “Lemme help ya… just like that…” you whispered, stroking him achingly slowly.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Thumb swipe, followed by the hitching of Dex's breath.

Down…

This delicious torture didn't last long. Just like Dex. He spilled over your fingers, making a mess of his briefs and shaking almost imperceptibly. Both of you knew that premature ejaculation was a thing, but he was still embarrassed, tears of shame stinging his eyes. Nonetheless, there was something else too. Your hands felt different from what he felt touching himself. Your skin was soft, your grip gentle, your movements unpredictable. But that's not what has drawn his attention. Not the thought of your hands. But the feeling in his brain. It felt fuzzy and tingly at the same time. And then, under the haze of shame, the hunger woke up. He needs to find out. He needs…

Next thing you know, you're rolled over, Dex is hovering over you, leaning down to press a slow kiss to your lips.

“Need to… to make you feel good… please let me…” And oh do you let him. He does a great work of warming you up—though you did not exactly need it, you were already soaked. Does all by the book—what a good boy!

You're already whimpering and shaking after a few climaxes when he finally—finally!—slides into you, the girth of him stretching you deliciously, sending the waves of heated pleasure all over your body and making the pressure in your belly coil tighter with every movement. Dex was ecstatic—the warmth of your silky tight walls hugging him so snugly and making him twitch just slightly inside of you.

“Ohhh, godddd…” he moans into your shoulder, mouthing at the softness of your skin, his thrusts are slow and deep, just like you both need it. Dex guides your legs to wrap around his waist, adjusting the angle to push deeper, kissing your cervix with his tip on every thrust and hitting that spongy spot inside. The two of you right now are a tangle of limbs, sharing one breath and moaning into each other's mouths.

The pleasure was building slowly, but surely. The ah's and oh's spilling from your lips were getting higher and louder as Dex just kept hitting that damn spot. Your head fell back as you weren't holding your moans anymore. Your nails raked down his spine, leaving red marks as he railed you so good… And he wasn't ashamed to make noises too. Every time he bottomed out he let out a low grunt, but when he dragged his length back through your warm slick it pulled the nastiest moan right out of his lungs.

“Ba-abe… ah… my sweet girl, are you… ohhhh… are you close…?” he managed to mumble almost incoherently. You were drooling at this point, not being able to figure a word out of your mouth and that's when he knew you were there.

“Ahh, Dex… mhmmm… Dex… ohhh… ah, ah, ahhhh…!”

The only word you could muster through the intensity of your climax was his name. And that's when he snapped too. His hips bucked forward once, twice before they locked as he spilled into you right in time with the damn fireworks going off in his spinal cord and exploding into his mind, drawing intricate colorful patterns on the very back of his eyelids, making him feel like he was falling into the softest cloud.

Changing those fuckass meds was a brilliant decision, after all.

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