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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
There's chocolate dripping down his lip. Bucky has never stared this intensely at Sam's mouth before. Bucky can imagine how sweet it'd taste to lean over and lick it clean. The thought of getting that close to Sam's lips has been a recurring dream every night lately, but Bucky hasn't told a soul. And now, this chocolate is taunting him from the very mouth he's been fantasizing about tasting.
Mere minutes ago, Bucky was thinking how lucky he was to be invited to another Wilson cookout. He's already wolfed down three of the doughnuts they're eating and now, he's stunned motionless staring at the tiny spill of filling that Sam has yet to notice dribbled on his bottom lip.
Bucky imagines his thumb grazing Sam's mouth. It'd taste so sweet — no, Sam would taste so sweet, Bucky just knows it.
"Buck."
Bucky blinks, hearing how sharply Sam has spoken his name, he must have been saying it for a while now.
"What?"
"You're been staring for a scary long time — even for you," Sam says.
Bucky struggles to say anything, his brain is mush, absolutely mush, from what that tiny drop of chocolate on Sam's lip is doing to him.
"What... do I have something on my face?" Sam asks.
"Yeah," Bucky says, his hand lifting to point at Sam's mouth. He lets it inch closer and closer and he doesn't realize he's brushing the chocolate away with his thumb until he feels the sharp inhale of breath Sam takes.
"Sorry," Bucky says, pulling his hand back. But when he looks down at the sugary smear on his thumb, he can't help himself, he pushes it against his tongue and licks his fingertip clean.
When he looks back up, Sam's staring at him. Slowly, he motions to Bucky's face, shifting ever so slightly on the picnic bench they're sharing.
"You've got something too," Sam says.
Bucky knows he doesn't, he would feel it, he can feel everything all the time. But he's never felt anything as good as when Sam leans forward and kisses him for the very first time.
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The world is full of awful horrible shitty things, but there's always making fictional men kiss in my mind. Smooch smooch, motherfuckers. My mental health demands it.
There's chocolate dripping down his lip. Bucky has never stared this intensely at Sam's mouth before. Bucky can imagine how sweet it'd taste to lean over and lick it clean. The thought of getting that close to Sam's lips has been a recurring dream every night lately, but Bucky hasn't told a soul. And now, this chocolate is taunting him from the very mouth he's been fantasizing about tasting.
Mere minutes ago, Bucky was thinking how lucky he was to be invited to another Wilson cookout. He's already wolfed down three of the doughnuts they're eating and now, he's stunned motionless staring at the tiny spill of filling that Sam has yet to notice dribbled on his bottom lip.
Bucky imagines his thumb grazing Sam's mouth. It'd taste so sweet — no, Sam would taste so sweet, Bucky just knows it.
"Buck."
Bucky blinks, hearing how sharply Sam has spoken his name, he must have been saying it for a while now.
"What?"
"You're been staring for a scary long time — even for you," Sam says.
Bucky struggles to say anything, his brain is mush, absolutely mush, from what that tiny drop of chocolate on Sam's lip is doing to him.
"What... do I have something on my face?" Sam asks.
"Yeah," Bucky says, his hand lifting to point at Sam's mouth. He lets it inch closer and closer and he doesn't realize he's brushing the chocolate away with his thumb until he feels the sharp inhale of breath Sam takes.
"Sorry," Bucky says, pulling his hand back. But when he looks down at the sugary smear on his thumb, he can't help himself, he pushes it against his tongue and licks his fingertip clean.
When he looks back up, Sam's staring at him. Slowly, he motions to Bucky's face, shifting ever so slightly on the picnic bench they're sharing.
"You've got something too," Sam says.
Bucky knows he doesn't, he would feel it, he can feel everything all the time. But he's never felt anything as good as when Sam leans forward and kisses him for the very first time.
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Summary: When Sam and Bucky start sleeping together, it’s to Bucky’s sheer amazement that Sam can’t get enough of him but Bucky can't get enough of him either.
Excerpt:
Bucky was never the reckless kind when it came to loving. In the past, and yes by past he means the 1940s, he couldn’t be careless with relationships. Those times were different, women were proper in ways he didn’t want to mess with in fear of losing his chance altogether. The wildest he’d done was felt up a dame in the movie theater or fool around in a car — but they never even went all the way.
Bucky wonders now if perhaps no one has ever been that into him or maybe he’s never been that into anyone either. He wanted to touch a dame for the sake of touching one. He wanted to round the bases to brag about how far he’d gone. But he’d never actually met someone he couldn’t keep his hands off of.
He’d expect this to happen least of all with Sam. Because even in front of the cameras and the press, Sam Wilson is the most cool, collected guy you’ll ever see. Even around his family or in front of strangers. Anywhere you find Sam, he’s civil and calm. He always knows what to say. It honestly made Bucky nervous to speak around the man when they first met. And the times Bucky has sputtered unintelligibly in front of him, Sam merely chuckles with a smooth grin and pats him on the back as if Bucky’s attempt at a coherent sentence was a decent one.
So for Sam to not only want Bucky but like this — at any time, any place? Bucky has no idea what the fuck to do with himself when encountering this new, feral side of Sam.
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