NAT ✪

Pairing: 40s!bucky barnes x fem! reader Word Count: 13.8k Abstract: Bucky is your good friend. In times of war, he is your comfort. On cold December nights in Brooklyn, you invite him to your apartment to hang out. A small accident occurs that gets out of hand while you deal with the embarrassment of the moment. Will your friendship with him be affected, or will something new blossom between you? Disclaimer: 18+ explicit content — MDNI | no use of y/n, friends to lovers, eventual smut, hotpast, mutual pining, unprotected sex (p in v), breeding, overstimulation, teasing, soft dom!reader, soft dom!bucky, light power play, cockwarming, praise kink, oral sex (m&f — receiving and giving), fingering, use of pet names (darling, dove, angel, sweetheart, love, baby, princess), subtle angst, kissing, insecure/self-conscious reader, masturbation, soft intimacy, orgasm denial, squirting, touching, subtle old standards (40s), light fluid bonding, sexual tension, body worship, multiple orgasms, hair pulling (m receiving), fluff, aftercare, lmk if i've missed anything Author’s Note: this was going to be much shorter than I originally planned. It's my first Bucky fanfic, so please don't let it be a flop. I put a lot of effort into editing this work and spent two weeks writing it. English is not my first language, so I'm open to any corrections (preferably via anonymous or direct message, thank you). Enjoy reading this. I hope you like it.

In December, the busy streets of Brooklyn were less crowded than they usually were in the middle of the year. You loved this time of year, when you boiled milk to make a hot drink, just as you were doing now, watching the windows fog up with the warm contrast of your home. Your routine was the same as almost every day, but it was interrupted in a rather comforting way by your good friend Bucky Barnes. He had arrived from a successful mission, and you decided to invite him to spend the night at your apartment, celebrating with two cups of hot chocolate, chatting about your busy lives, talking about some new book or movie releases.

He had arrived at your apartment with a big smile on his face, wearing his impeccable sergeant's uniform and the recognition seals in his right pocket. He asked permission to change into something more comfortable and casual, something more homely, something that would allow you to feel connected to your friend without reminding you of the current situation with the war.

You turned off the stove, hummed a tune lost in your thoughts, focused on making hot chocolate, but something caught your attention. He had left his canvas bag on the sofa, which wasn't unusual for him. He was a bit messy and tended to leave things lying around. You figured he had grabbed his clothes in a hurry, going upstairs to change. However, a book or something more like a diary was about to fall on the floor, you approached to pick it up, but curiosity got the better of you at such an inopportune moment. It was made of soft leather, a little worn at the corners, some pages overflowing, others carefully placed in the binding groove. You should have left it where you found it, put it back in the bag, and continue with the hot chocolate until he came down from the guest room. You couldn't help being damn curious on this occasion.

You ran your index and middle fingers along the edge of the diary's front cover, opening it delicately, observing, examining it closely, judging a book by its cover. It had simple notes, some coordinates you didn't recognize, a few doodles here and there. He likes to draw, doesn't he? Street names, song titles to remember later on the radio... informal writings, nothing that could ever be of use to you. It was when you turned seven or nine pages further on that you found it, forbidden information, information that was perhaps too personal for someone you called a friend. Your eyebrows knit together, you frown with concern for yourself, cursing your curiosity, your desire to always know the “why” of things, a diary is what you use to record your adventures, ailments, experiences, and that was exactly what you found, your friend's carnal experiences.

Was this what men used to write in their notebooks, diaries, or agendas? A valid form of release and privacy, of course. Your index finger carefully travels over the cursive writing, the ink dry from some time ago, perhaps weeks or days, the more your eyes wandered in curiosity, the more you could understand what it was about, they were libidinous experiences come true, real encounters he had had, with every detail written in an casual perspective, specific details that did not go unnoticed in your quick reading.

A bubbling sensation tightened against the knot in your lower belly. It was uncharted territory for you. You had embarked on a ship bound for the most dangerous waters of the Pacific. You couldn't get off the boat without finding the treasure. Your curiosity got the better of you.

You turned one or two more pages, knowing that was enough. What you didn't know was that the author was right behind you. He spoke in a short sentence, you froze, your breath caught in your throat, your fingers clutching the back cover of the diary, wishing the earth would swallow you up right then and there.

“Say, I must’ve left my bag behind… looks like you found it ‘fore I did." In every scenario and every possibility, you would be trapped in the bars of shame. With clumsy movements and simple instinct, you carelessly stored the diary inside the canvas bag, you turned to face him, observing his expression. He was clearly confused, you saw no signs of anger anywhere, but he wasn't happy either, not in the same way he was when he arrived at your apartment and greeted you with a fresh smile.

“Sorry, I was moving some furniture and your bag was carelessly placed and some things were threatening to fall on the floor...” You stammered, your words were incompetent, but somehow you were clear with your intention, with a little lie on the tip of your tongue, but it worked... or so you thought.

You saw him frown, a subtle but visible gesture, as he approached you to pick up the bag between his fingers and noticed a tiny detail: the small strip that served as a bookmark in his diary was out of place on the page he had marked so as not to lose his place in his reading. He knew immediately that you had invaded his privacy.

He grimaced, not because he was upset, but because he felt a little strange, a feeling of rejection on your part haunted him like a bad omen, that you think he is a pervert who makes his perverse notes from time to time with different people at the same time. He leaves the bag on another sofa, the atmosphere is heavy, tense... so you decide to break it.

“Forgive me again... how about I turn on the radio and we relax a little? I made hot chocolate, your favorite...” You played with your fingers, a nervous but safe act for your nervous system. You got yourself into this mess, you would solve it.

Bucky nods gently, you swear you saw the corners of his mouth turn up in a small smile, that relieved you a little, you go to the small radio on the coffee table in the living room, you turn it on looking for a soft melody probably an instrumental jazz tune, you bring the steaming cups of hot chocolate to the coffee table letting them cool down a little. The two of you sit down on the comfortable sofa, neither of you saying a word, enjoying the comfortable silence that the room provides, listening to the melody on the radio and the soft tapping of the windows by the slippery night wind.

“How ya been? Still crackin’ the languages books, huh?” Miraculously, he decided to break the ice with a sharp knife, you took a deep breath turning your gaze toward him. He was looking at you with his icy blue eyes, bright and warm at the same time, which was comforting and gave you enough courage to lose some of the embarrassment that ran through your veins.

“You know... it's a little complicated to study two languages at the same time, but it works for me. I know that when the war is over, I can get a decent job.” Your hand travels across the back of the sofa as you talk, thinking about your risky decisions. You didn't want to vent your sorrows on a night like this, at least not for now. You feel a chill run down your lower back when you feel Bucky's hand resting on your shoulder, gently squeezing the tender flesh, an affectionate touch.

“Hey... everything’s gonna be just fine. You're one sharp dame, always questionin’ the way the world tries to pin us down. This society? It’s a real pain the neck sometimes, y’know? But with you… I feel like I’m finally home. I trust you.” Your eyes shine when he says the words that sweeten your heart “With you… I feel like I’m finally home.” He says it as if he has forgotten your action when you were snooping through his belongings a couple of minutes ago. You part your lips to let out a slight sigh coming from your chest squeezed by the feeling that you don't deserve this great man as a good friend of yours.

“Buck... guilt eats away at me. I can't be at peace if you offer me comfort and I still feel guilty for taking your belongings without your consent. Please forgive me.” Your eyes shine with pure sincerity and painful regret. He smiles showing that beautiful crooked smile that you adore at any time of year. His hand leaves your shoulder and moves up your right cheek, cradling it delicately despite his calloused fingers from the effort of being a soldier.

“Darlin’, I figure that same curiosity’s what drives you to study all them languages, and take a chance comin’ to a place like this. You really think I’d blow my top over somethin’ so small? Maybe it’s a little awkward lookin’ you in the eyes after you read those notes but hey… I’m sorry for that too. We’re square now, alright?” Sweet as honey, you thought, his lips letting out a melodious laugh, another wave of relief washed over you. You were even, and that was enough to end this uncomfortable nighttime chapter. Or maybe you would continue to the next chapter, because he cut through the thin layer of embarrassment again when he asked the following question.

“Still... I gotta say, I’m curious too… just like you. So, what’d you manage to read before I caught ya red-handed?" Shit, that was perceptive of him. Heat rose to your cheeks invading your face, and your expression faltered. You caught your lower lip with your teeth and lowered your gaze, avoiding his blue eyes as they scanned you with intrigue, something else peeked through them that you couldn't quite identify, you didn't want to jump to conclusions.

“First, I want you to know that it was pure coincidence that my fingers fell on those pages. I skimmed through it, so I don't have all the information in my head. I'll forget about it today, don't worry.” You lied. You knew that what little you had read would stay in your head for a long time, not when the writing, the feelings, and the stories told in that diary were strangely appealing to you.

You took the cup of hot chocolate to your lips and drank a little of its contents, but it wasn't enough to warm your body when Bucky pinched your cheek. Oh yes, he had his hand there, tonight you felt seriously distracted.

“That stuff you read… did it get ya or what?” He lowered his voice as if they were in a bar or a cafe surrounded by other people, but the reality was that the two of them were alone in your apartment, in a conversation that was escalating into something they hadn't experienced together as friends.

You didn't manage to choke on the chocolate because you had swallowed it before he dropped the grenade. You stretched out your arm and part of your body to put the cup back on the coffee table. You hesitated to look him directly in the eyes, but you did. There he was, his pupils curious, slightly dilated, waiting expectantly for your response.

“You have beautiful handwriting, a little sloppy, but good enough to write a book perhaps... I mean, you're a good writer. Have you ever thought about writing a book?” Did you hesitate? Were you nervous? He smiled sidelong, this time to tease you, of course. You had forgotten that your friend could be sarcastic at times.

"Not sure I got it in me to write a book right now... but I’ll keep it in the back o’ my head." Good point, you thought amid the jumbled ideas in your chaotic mind.

“Although I don't know if anyone in history has ever published an erotic book, there are movies, that's something I've heard about on the streets. I've never gone to see a movie like that, but you could dare to write one at some point, you know...” You frowned slightly, intrigued to investigate the subject further, or perhaps you were trying to take control of the strange feeling you were beginning to feel in the pit of your stomach.

The two of you fell silent again. It wasn't awkward just two young people trying to rearrange the ideas in their heads. The gears in your head were stuck on a question. You wanted to ask him that question, but you didn't know if it would be feasible to ask it right now. To hell with it, after what seemed like an eternity you asked him.

“If you feel uncomfortable, I want you to tell me right away, but... can you tell me a story from your diary?” Your fingers moved uncomfortably over the cotton of your dress, brushing it with clumsy strokes. You would probably regret this now, later or never, depending on his reaction and acceptance.

"Which one? Any o’ them or the one you couldn’t stop starin’ at?" He doesn't pull away, he doesn't judge you, his features don't wrinkle in an expression of disgust or rejection, his eyebrows move slightly upward arching them in interest, curiosity, and surprise. His hand which was on your cheek, moved away from you to stroke his chin thoughtfully. You felt the loss of warmth, but you let it pass; the intrigue kept you alert.

“Whatever anecdote you want to tell me, I don't mind. I think it's better when the author of a book shares his ideas aloud with the right listeners.” You spoke in a lower tone than usual, looking up to meet his meticulous gaze, his pupils dilated, the mocking smile still carefully placed at the corners of his lips. You swallowed, feeling the liquid roll harshly down your throat. You knew that kind of look in a man.

“Alright, alright...” He leaned back, resting his elbow on the front of the sofa, his face tilted toward you, his thigh brushing yours, rocking from side to side, your breath hitching, your entire body tensing as his presence crowded your tiny personal space, certainly making you restless.

“There was this one time... in Paris.” He let the words hang in the air for a moment, knowing that he'd already piqued your curiosity. “I believe it was 'bout a year ago. Can’t say for certain. Warm summer night, I’d just completed a mission and a few fellows I worked with invited me to a bar nearby. I’d never been inside a Parisian bar before, you see. The place was lively, full of all kinds of people. There were plenty of beautiful dames, sure… but one in particular caught my eye… She was a redhead, green eyes like emeralds. A smile with a hint of mischief… long legs graceful. I walked up, offered her a drink, and we shot the breeze a while.”

He paused for a moment, his eyes roaming over your face, studying your reaction. Your outer shell was restless, a hint of nervousness revealed by the unusual movement of your fingers on the hem of your dress, your thighs pressing together, your heart beating a thousand miles a minute in anticipation of him soon reaching the interesting part of the story. He ran his tongue over his lips, his gaze flickering over your body for a moment before he spoke again.

"Everything alright? You sure you’re okay with this?" Bucky used a tone that would melt any woman, soft, full of concern with a subtly low but audible tone. He carefully brought his thumb and index finger to your chin to hold it firmly, and you nodded quickly with some desperation to break the tension of the situation.

“I'm fine, I'm just a little nervous. You don't hear about experiences like this every day. Don't worry, you can continue.” The comforting warmth returned when he caressed your chin with a delicate touch, feeling the soft skin beneath his fingertips. His fingers were long, and you swore you could feel them close to your lower lip. You cleared your throat clearing the knot of unease, the corners of your mouth lifting into a small shy smile. He nods, a little unsure of whether he's making you uncomfortable, but he trusts you and your word.

"Well… she was sharp, quick with her words and she sure wasn’t shy ‘bout speakin’ her mind. One o’ those people you only run into once in a lifetime. Said she was a model for some magazine, which made sense the way she carried herself, delicate... real classy. But I didn’t judge, and I sure didn’t ask what a dame like her was doin’ in a place like that sittin’ alone, no fella in sight. That’s when things started gettin’ a little… warmer between us. She walked right up, laid her hands on my legs, looked me dead in the eye, and said maybe we oughta go someplace quieter. The noise, the crowd none of it really fit us."

You listened carefully to his words. That woman sounded like someone who wasn't afraid of being judged, almost like yourself, but no, you weren't seductive, you weren't flirtatious, and sometimes you felt bad about yourself. You made a small grimace with your lips, you were a little jealous of that woman... because of her confidence or because of her encounter with Bucky?

"She took my hand, and the two of us stepped outta that bar, just walkin’ through the Paris streets... it was my last night in town, so that little spur-of-the-moment date with Sarah that meant somethin’. Oh yeah… that was her name." The woman's name lingered on the tip of his tongue as if he were trying to savor the moment he shared with her. His eyes never wandered; he always kept them fixed on yours, his knee bouncing a little more intensely against your legs.

"Sure enough, she asked me to come up to her place. Not that it mattered even if she hadn’t, I’da still walked her home. A lady shouldn’t be out there on her own, not at that hour. World’s full of trouble, y’know?" You smile, sincere, and agree with his ideology. He was always a gentleman, even with you.

"Soon as we stepped into her apartment, I didn’t even get a chance to catch my breath. Next thing I know, I’m backed up against the wall, her hands all over me, runnin’ down my chest, my arms… and her mouth, right on my neck..." He paused his words, stopped rocking his knee against your legs, tilted his head slightly, looking at you with intrigue.

You felt heat, not the comforting heat you felt when Bucky's fingers moved across your skin, tracing that path you already knew, this was a heat like a whirlwind, confusing yet evident in the lower part of your belly. You weren't stupid, you weren't ignorant, you knew what it was, but who was causing it? The anecdote itself or the author of the anecdote?

"At some point, I was over her too we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. She was starved for it, and truth be told, so was I. She started unbuttonin’ my shirt slow, slid her hands across my chest, down over my stomach… ‘til she reached my belt buckle." He snorted softly, licking his dry lips, with his right hand he adjusted the fabric of his pants from the thigh, it was an awkward movement, adjusting a certain area, you understood exactly why he did it, you said nothing, you kept listening.

"A dame takin’ the lead like that it ain’t somethin’ you see every day. Took me by surprise, I’ll tell ya that. I’d never felt nothin’ like it before." There he goes, with a sideways smile showing his pearly whites. You couldn't take it anymore. You wanted to dive into this story as if it were a journey to an unknown but exciting place, you interrupted him.

“What do you mean by taking the lead? What did she do?” Your eyes shine expectantly, which did not go unnoticed by his analytical eyes. His two eyebrows arch in surprise; your impatience amused him somewhat.

"Most times, it’s men who take the lead. We’re the ones startin’ with the kissin’, runnin’ our hands over ‘em, takin’ things slow... undressin’ ‘em, makin’ sure they get theirs. It’s give and take, y’know? We enjoy it, they enjoy it. Fair game, but Sarah... she turned the tables right from the start, left my shirt wide open, unbuckled my belt, and slipped my pants right down, leavin’ me standin’ there in just my shorts. She went straight for my neck; I remember that part real clear she left a couple marks, too pinkish ones. I carried ‘em around for near two weeks, and believe me, the fellas didn’t miss a chance to give me hell about it." He shook his head, trying to add a little humor to this conversation, otherwise he would lose track of what he was talking about with what his body was crying out for. But he continued when he saw you more focused than ever on his lips, on his words.

"Her hand moved down over my stomach slow like she knew exactly what she was doin’. When her nails traced over my skin and reached the edge of my shorts, I felt this shiver sharp... then she slipped her hand inside, and started takin’ care of me, just like that. I’ll tell you no dame had ever handled me that way before, not even close." You couldn't contain the little gasp that escaped your lips when he got to the suggestive part of the story. He noticed, but you didn't care if it was below 10 degrees on the streets of Brooklyn, you were burning up, it was suffocating, not to mention the uncomfortable sticky feeling of your panties against your folds. You swallowed hard. What the hell was happening to you?

"She drops to her knees, tugs down my shorts in one smooth motion, her hands ran down my legs slow at first scratchin’ my thighs just enough to leave a mark or two...” He paused briefly; the tension palpable for both of them. It wasn't the same tension as when he found you reading his diary without his permission. This was different, sinful, exciting. He continued bluntly. “Then... well, let’s just say she didn’t waste time, she got right to work and I ain’t ever forgotten how that felt."

“How did it feel? Did you like it?” You took a risk, your lips were loose, your cheeks hot, and your panties wet. What did you have to lose?

“Damn… it was somethin’ else, her mouth was hot, her tongue... skilled.” He also took a risk when his thumb touched your lower lip, gently opening your mouth. You couldn't help but sigh, your warm breath brushing against his thumb. Too much contact in less than a second, it felt like an intimate privilege.

"We stayed like that a while… I let myself go, didn’t hold back. Took it all in more than I ever had before then she caught me off guard. One second we were in the parlor, next thing I know she’s pullin’ me into the bedroom, she gave me a push real smooth, landed me on the bed climbed right on top straddlin’ my lap like she’d done it a hundred times. Her body... moved like it was made for it, every bit of it right where it oughta be.”

Bucky looked at you, you could understand the expressions on his face, he felt the same way you did, expectant of something more, he always respected your space he would never go further if you weren't comfortable with it, but you wanted it, you desired it, and you just hoped that this wouldn't ruin the strong bond you two had forged almost a year ago.

“Shit… I'd be lying if I said I wasn't feeling... different.” You laughed nervously, shyly, without taking your eyes off Bucky, who was looking at you with a small smile on his lips, calm and patient. His hand cradled your face again, and he asked the question that overwhelmed your senses, his voice dropping to a low whisper.

"Mind if I kissed ya?" Your breath caught, you froze, you didn't waste any time. With your nerves on edge and excitement blossoming in your lower abdomen like a peony opening its petals, you nodded without hesitation.

There wasn't much space between them, but you wanted him close to you with a need you had never shown for him before. He left his place on the sofa to come closer to you, moving delicately as if trying to make you feel that his request to kiss you was serious and not part of a joke, as he usually did most of the time.

Their faces were only a few inches apart, and you felt his warm breath brush against the corners of your lips. You just swallowed, feeling your skin tingle and the hairs on your arms stand on end from his closeness. You put your hands on his thighs to steady yourself before falling to the side. Bucky let out an almost silent gasp at the abrupt touch of your hands on his thighs, sending a delicious shiver through him, his cock throbbing eagerly inside his tight fabric pants.

The connection was electrifying when your lips collided with his in a soft kiss, the appetizer before the main course. The delicacy didn't last long; you were hungry with need to have him connected to you for as long as possible. The hot chocolate had something toxic in it; otherwise, you wouldn't understand where this sexual energy came from.

You climbed onto his lap carefully, not wanting to scare him away, but if that woman could be bold with Bucky, why couldn't you? You could do it even better than her. He was surprised, but he didn't protest, his hands found the refuge they needed in the curve of your hips squeezing the tender flesh. You both gasped during the kiss, an opportunity crossing your path.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, careless but controlled, with the aim of making you feel good. You had never had such an intense kiss in your life, but you liked it. It helped a lot to relieve the burden of desire that was increasing in your nervous system, but it wasn't enough anyway. You needed more than this kiss.

The lack of oxygen became apparent, the two separated, a thin thread of saliva connecting their lips which glistened in the golden hue light of the ceiling lamp in the corner of your living room. You could barely see the blue of his eyes, his pupils taking up so much space in his orbs due to the arousal he felt for you at that moment. The two inhaled... exhaled, by chance they both laughed at the same time, two melodies breaking the momentary passion.

“Geez, that didn’t take long.” He teased you, and you just tapped him on the shoulder playfully.

“Is that a compliment? Or a complaint?” You frowned with a small pout on your lips, and he grabbed your cheeks with one hand, squeezing gently in a possessive way, or so you thought.

"It’s a fact, I liked it. What about you? That story... it get you goin’ a little? I didn't finish it anyway.” Bucky looks at you enchanted, he has always been a born observer, but this time it felt different, admiring every part of your face with desire, with affection.

Your fingers are guided by the slight stubble on his jaw. He must have trimmed it a few days ago, or so you can deduce. He is as handsome as hell, and that is where you have fallen. The heat is unbearable. “Hey... I want to try too... I want to be a confident woman, like that woman in Paris. Do you think I can do it right now with you?”

He follows your gaze, now a little more serious, but nothing to worry about. You saw his jaw tighten a little.

"I believe in you. You asked me to talk ‘bout that night I had with that dame so I told you. If you’re lookin’ to sail into unfamiliar waters… I’ll steer the ship. You got nothin’ to worry about. We don’t judge, remember? Ain’t that what you’re always preachin’?" Damn, the effect he had on you was mesmerizing. You just bit your lower lip and nodded, ready to venture into the dense waters.

Your hands moved down from the edge of his jaw to his shirt, you unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt, no more, his identification tags welcomed you lying on his chest moving in coordination with his chest breathing, rising and falling, his heart pounding with excitement, his body hair accentuated his pecs in a delicious way, he was masculine, your trimmed nails traveled toward his chest, caressing his firm muscle, he for his part brought his left hand to the strap of your dress, playing with it a little, pulling it, letting it go, a small tempting loop until he got tired and ended up gently lowering the strap down the curve of your shoulder. He didn't stop there, he did the same with the other strap ending up with a nice improvised neckline, he sighed to himself and his eyes didn't leave your beautiful arms moving subtly across his chest.

You wanted to try something different, you brought your hands to his neck touching his skin, running your fingers over his Adam's apple, he tensed every time you tried to press gently against the bulge, your right hand traveled behind to the back of his neck exactly, with your fingers covered in his hair you pulled his head back, not too hard, but it wasn't the movement of a damsel either.

A growl escaped his lips, you took advantage of this opportunity to lick a long line down his neck, leaving a trail of fresh saliva engraved on the pavement of his windpipe, salty yet sweet at the same time.

You heard it for the first time, a gasp combined with a whimper, it's the blissful sound that comes from his pretty pink lips. If heaven gave you the chance to choose a specific melody, you would clearly choose the one you just heard. That's when you noticed the interference on the radio, you were so caught up in the moment that you ignored the moment when the song reached its climax and the signal was lost along with it. It didn't matter. You would silence the whole world just to hear that beautiful sound coming from his throat. It was sincere approval, he was enjoying it.

You had never played this dominant female role before, you didn't even know you could handle it, you felt free, full of confidence, it was just what you were looking for to feel as sexy as the red-haired woman in Paris.

The buttons on his shirt were unbuttoned one by one as you sucked small hickeys on his neck, leaving pink, purple, and red marks to bloom. All those colors marked the evidence of your courage, claiming this man under your touch, your power to make him feel good, steal his breath, stopping his heartbeat to take it back with strength, this was exactly what you were looking for. Your ears were sensitized by Bucky's muffled gasps, he was holding back, teasing you, but you wouldn't let him turn the tables on you.

You undid all the buttons on his shirt and opened it, not taking it off because, honestly, he looked hot half-naked. You saw his chest rise and fall in ragged breaths, your eyes roaming over it. You had seen the hair on his sternum, but discovering the whole path was what made you let out a fleeting gasp. Your eyes traveled directly below his belly button, where his happy trial was patched and well presented. You were sticky, wet between your legs. You cursed internally. Your body was betraying you in the best possible way.

“Damn... dove, you’re real good at this.” He could barely speak, his arousal limited him to sweet grunts and gasps, music to your ears now that the radio was temporarily broken.

You didn't speak, yours were actions not words, this time you focused on his face, you swore you would be kind to him, his long eyelashes fluttering over his half-closed eyes, you could barely see the icy blue of his eyes, the pale pink color accentuated on his cheeks it wasn't because of the cold, that was for sure, his lips parted in a fragile line, you could see his two front bunny teeth and you smiled to yourself, cute.

Your thighs were on either side of his legs as you sat on his lap, you squeezed your legs together in an attempt to get more comfortable, he couldn't help but reach out and caress your thighs moving up the hem of your dress leaving it rolled up above your hips with his left hand in a firm grip, he looked at you, his breath immediately catching.

Your cream-colored panties, meticulously detailed with lace and rose designs, he could see the wet spot forming in the center of your panties. His tongue came out to wet his lips, leaving them glistening in the dim light, as his breathing returned, irregular and shaky. His right hand reached out to assault you, but you were faster grabbing his wrist firmly. He was taken aback by your outburst.

“This time we're going to abandon the ladies first protocol.” At last you could see his beautiful blue eyes open again because of your boldness. You stopped his hand and placed it on your right thigh, exactly where it should be. You didn't care that his other hand was in a swaying grip around the hem of your dress. You let it go, he can keep watching if he wants to.

You looked away from his face and down at his pants, at the bulge leaning slightly to the left, suggesting that he was more than ready for your next move.

Your fingers hesitated a little, but you pushed yourself to do it. He wasn't wearing a belt, which was a silent victory for you. Your index finger brushed against the zipper of his pants, his hips jerked forward instinctively, he was anxious, impatient. Your free hand positioned itself on his left thigh and you ran your fingers over the thick flesh until you reached the button of his pants.

You don't know how, but the button was probably loose. You were able to unbutton it with one hand using the strength of your thumb and index finger. A muffled groan came from above, he needed to free himself from his layers of clothing as soon as possible. You were exploring this shipwreck you had suddenly been stranded on, you would take your time.

You unzipped his pants in a slow and torturous movement, leaning your hand on his thigh and applying pressure, he could feel it. He was watching you, this new unknown side of you. He'd be lying if he said he didn't love the way you dominated him.

You reached the end of the line, stopping only to observe the disaster you were causing. Your hands positioned themselves on the hems of his pants and pulled down, not too hard. He was startled by the impact, lifting part of his lower body to make sure his pants didn't get stuck on his legs. You pulled them down to his knees without any problem.

Now it was your turn to let out a gasp, but you didn't stifle it, you exclaimed it proudly, his hard erection rising painfully above his underwear, a damp spot leaning smugly in the center of the fabric, both of you wanted this desperately, you smiled proudly this whole plan is scoring points for your egocentricity.

You moved closer to him, the tip of your nose drawing a line over his sharp jaw, like a kitten seeking the warmth of its owner, you gently bit his jawbone, your finger leaving a ghostly touch on his hardness, you felt his painful erection trapped in his briefs, straining against the fabric as his arousal was staining them. Bucky exhaled sharply through his nose, his grip tightened possessively around the hem of your dress, he didn't let go, he stood still for a moment.

Your curiosity reared its head again, palming him through his briefs, the wetness, the heat radiating from his cock came like an electrifying bolt of pleasure to the center of your legs just a second after feeling it throb in the palm of your hand. Two strangled moans escaped from their mouths, it was a mutual connection, a union between them that strengthened the intimacy they were sharing. You looked up through your vision blurred by desire, meeting his eyes, shining with need, dark with the arousal of the moment, he stared at you, not at your hand but at you.

His broad chest heaving with painful anticipation, each breath making the muscles in his abs tense, you could read his body language and understand that he needed more than a fleeting touch.

“Get 'em off angel c'mon...” He whispered, his deep voice dropping to a breathless needy tone, you couldn't help feel suffocated, struggling in your heightened state of arousal. You didn't anticipate when you grabbed the elastic waistband of his underwear and helped him out of them, his shorts piling up next to his pants at his knees, and your pupils dilated when you saw it.

His thick cock sprang up, hitting his abdomen, staining his pelvis and part of his happy trail. It was fully erect, swollen, and shiny with precum, his pretty tip flushed, angier, needing your touch. Small translucent pearls dripped down his length, and a thick vein stood out across the front of his phallus.

Unconsciously, your mouth began to salivate, you had to run the back of your other hand over your lips to prevent the liquid from escaping from the corners of your mouth. For a moment you forgot how to take control of the situation, but you quickly composed yourself cleared your throat with a low sound, moved away from his lap, and saw him frown confused by your action. His eyes opened with a hint of desperation that left you sighing internally, so needy...

You curled up on his left side, now more comfortable, with more access to touch him freely. He moved restlessly, gradually allowing his legs to spread further apart as he felt your heat invading his sanity.

You leaned over and your hands moved down to his legs, your fingertips tracing sweet patterns along his bare thighs, feeling the fine layer of hair surrounding his delicious muscular flesh. You pressed against his thighs guiding his legs to spread apart to your liking.

“I want you to keep your legs open like that, don't close them or I won't please you, understand?” Your tone of voice was firm, he nodded nervously but eagerly, struggling to maintain his composure, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, you saw a thin layer of sweat settle on his forehead and those pretty pink lips that have remained half-open since you first touched him.

His balls hung heavy, painfully full against the sofa upholstery. Your right arm traveled along the back of the sofa and deliberately fell on his back, your hand digging into a tight grip around his shoulder, your other hand reached down to his pelvis, your touch light as a feather as you looked up through your eyelashes to meet his eyes. He needed you urgently, the arctic-blue turning dark like a rainy night filled with mist, desire... He was trembling, desperately resisting the overwhelming urge to touch you, pull your body toward him, to remove that damn dress that stood between him and your delicate naked skin, to play with those pretty cream-colored panties, to lick the exquisite pearl that surrounded the center of your pink petals, to dizzy your senses in a cloud of pleasure that you couldn't bear alone, to take you to the peak and release your orgasm. But not yet, this was your turn, you were in control.

Finally you grabbed it, letting your hand move in a slow rhythm, you didn't need the baby oil you kept on your shelf in case your skin got itchy. His precum surrounded the entire base of his cock, your grip moved up to his tip you let it press gently into your fist and then moved down to the base of his cock, spreading those pearly beads along the length of his foreskin. Your hand soon moved up and down his length with ease, using his excessive amount of precum to make him touch the moon and the stars.

Bucky writhed, moaning desperately loving your touch. The sensation overwhelmed him, waves of pleasure coursing through his body, you felt his back arch eagerly against the back of the sofa, each moan that escaped his lips sounding like sweet encouragement. It was a delight because it felt so good to have him with you like this, under the control of your grip.

Your grip on his shoulder abruptly shifted to his jaw, you turned him around, finding yourself once again face to face with his face contorted in a trembling expression of excitement that clouded his senses. Poor Bucky could barely form a coherent sentence. You watched as a couple of crystal-clear tears formed at the corners of his eyes, you caught your breath it was like a silent plea, a vulnerability that only you would have the privilege of admiring.

Your hand was completely covered in his arousal, his nectar of shiny beads and pearls dripping continuously from his cock creating a warm slippery lubricant facilitating movement. The sticky feeling didn't disgust you; it made you realize how much you had aroused him in less than a night. You had never had an experience like this before. It felt forbidden, but why did it feel so good? The wet sound invaded your ears, the subtle “squeeze” echoing in your head. Damn, this was your new addiction.

You remembered part of his story. Had the woman sucked his cock? How would you do it? Your fingers slid down, wrapped tightly around his base. You squeezed, his hips jerked slightly, his abdominal muscles contracting, his breathing falling into a whimper weakened by distress.

His cock was hot, heavy, throbbing in the fist of your hand, trembling slightly as your hand encircled the base. You admired it, the moisture, the swollen veins, the reddish color of his tip, your mouth suddenly went dry. You knew what you needed to do to quench your thirst for desire.

Your grip was persistent, you got up from the sofa, again taking him by surprise, but this time he was patient, expectant, his cock throbbing and contracting in the palm of your hand. Immediately your knees found the cold wood beneath you, you fell to your knees for him, his legs remained open because that was your order from the beginning otherwise you weren't going to give him what he was begging for so much with his whimpers and moans, his release at your hands.

He spread his legs as far as they would go, his body slowly collapsing onto the sofa. You smiled arrogant, your hand firmly around his base squeezing to hold him back giving him pleasure at the same time.

You tilted your head forward, your breath skimming hot over his reddened head, you smelled the musk of his cock, addictive, manly, your panties were incredibly clinging to your wet pussy, you could have your orgasm just by touching him and smelling his cock, you didn't recognize yourself.

Bucky's eyes fell on your mouth, your tongue escaped from your lips and you slowly licked just above his reddened and dripping tip. He moaned, low, guttural, his head tilted back for a fraction of a second, you saw his Adam's apple flex on his throat, that moan came from inside him, natural, without pretense, you loved it.

You licked again, more agile this time, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, cupping your cheeks slightly using just enough pressure to feel him react. Your tongue caught the salty, spicy taste of his cock, you pulled your head forward, taking him deep into your hot mouth.

With your free hand, you caressed his balls while your tongue played with every throbbing vein you could find. His body swayed slightly forward, pulling his hips against you, longing for you to take his entire length into your mouth. You were taking your time to savor the smooth, soft skin of his cock.

His hands clung to the tops of his legs, his left hand carefully reaching out to your face, his fingers brushing your jaw, his thumb caressing the tender skin of your peachy cheeks. If he had the necessary resources, he would buy one of those cameras that processed the film, creating a memorable photograph that he would carry in the right pocket of his uniform or in his no longer so secret diary. It was a simple fantasy, a thought that would live on in his mind, in his memories.

He left his hand there, your lips pulling wetly on his cock, your head bobbing up and down, the angle making it easy, natural, you could slide in a steady rhythm comfortable for both of you. His fingers moved up running through the strands of your hair at the nape of your neck, he didn't pull, he didn't grab possessively, it was a soft, firm touch to help you move with him. You let him be because it didn't interfere with your plans to dominate him.

The sound of your mouth working on him was wet, slippery, lascivious, the veins of his cock throbbed under your tongue, you were not an expert but your tongue curved in different directions, in those exact spots where he felt the most pleasure, you could tell by the way he gasped, waves of pleasure coursing through him, every nerve and contraction felt like an electric touch against your honey lips.

You couldn't take it all in your mouth, it was considerably large, you were a little disappointed in yourself, you slid his cock out of your mouth with a little “pop” joining the strings of saliva and precum that still clung to your lips as you pulled back a little.

You never let go of his cock, continuing to press firmly at the base, holding back any hint of premature orgasm, your hand on his balls remaining active, kneading his sack with a feather-light touch. This elicited a loud whimper in response to your warm hand patting against him, his beautiful sore testicles throbbing with anguish, seeking quick release of his thick semen. He hadn't cum in weeks and it was very likely that he would end up making a mess in your hand and part of your arm if you continued at that pace.

You were no longer kneeling before him. You moved forward, placing your knee against his cock, stabilizing yourself with your other leg standing, your hands resting on his broad shoulders, a growl was what you received with this new position, a manly, almost primitive one, it ignited your nervous system with arousal.

You thought for a moment how sexy this situation would be if you were wearing a lace lingerie set with a playful garter belt accessory and nylon stockings, high stilettos heels, harmonizing your legs and making them look taller and longer. Unfortunately, you didn't have that hot emergency outfit in your closet, you had seen it in adult magazines. Maybe if all this worked out, you would save up to buy a set and play lasciviously with Bucky.

His arousal covered your swollen, worn, and ruined lips, shining under the dim light of the room. You didn't lick your lips because you didn't want to waste it; you wanted to share it. You took a difficult risk.

Your face wavered close to his, his heavy eyelids half-closed, you had wondered internally how he had held out so long until now, he was close to releasing himself, and you knew it from the way the veins in his cock throbbed deliciously with pressure in your mouth. You wouldn't let him come so soon, you still wanted to push him to the limit of his sexual sanity, this opportunity presented itself and you weren't going to waste it.

Your breathing was fast and hurried with nerves, catching in your throat there was a hesitation that made your hair stand on end, your breaths mingled, you could feel his hot breath on your lips.

Your mouths met in a desperate kiss, so eager that you felt the shock of electricity running down your spine. He was tasting his arousal on your lips, your saliva mixing with his. You were afraid he would push you away, judge you, grab his belongings, and run out the front door of your apartment, abandoning you forever. He didn't. He stayed with you, receiving the heat that blossomed at the union of your mouths, your pulse racing between your legs, your fingers wrapped around Bucky's shoulders, your tongue moving experimentally against his in a dance of fiery passion, small strands of saliva rolling down the corners of your lips.

His mouth covered yours and deepened the kiss, taking you to the clouds, giving you what you deserved without asking more than twice. Bucky devoured you, his lips moving against yours in a needy and greedy push, both of you moaning arbitrarily between the little space that existed in your busy mouths, he ended up accepting the taste of his cock with dignity, here in the heat of your apartment there were no protocols, no misogyny, no weak masculinity, the stigmas of the times, were the two of you venturing into the incredible pleasure that existed in every particle and cell of the human body, there was no sin, only the sweet taste of intimacy.

You kissed Bucky as if war would knock on your door at any moment and take everything away. You loved him like a good friend, but deep down you wanted this moment, to live it, to feel it in your memory as a memory that would never fade from your chaotic mind. Your heart longed for it so much that it would hurt when the night came to an end.

Bucky's touch stung in a not-so-pleasant way. He hadn't felt your body since the first moment you straddled his lap, he didn't want to ruin your fantasy, but his hands were restless, empty, unstable without the subtle grease of your flesh rooted to his fingers. He grabs your waist tightly, calloused fingers scraping and burning your ribs, wrinkling the tattered fabric of your dress, you gasp into his mouth, instantly pulling away from him, your lungs agitated, begging for a breath of air. You rest your forehead against his as your breaths are unstable and desperate alongside his.

Your hands massage the tense skin of his shoulders, exerting the most delicious pressure on them sending unexpected currents of desire through his hard, needy cock, dripping his translucent essence down your knee. You feel his balls contract, he is trembling, he is so close and you don't want this to end so soon, your tongue comes out and brushes the corners of his lips stealing his breath, savoring the combination of your saliva created by the intense kiss you had a minute ago, your lips curve into a smile.

Your knee remained pressed against his swollen balls, your hands left his shoulders for a second his grip on your waist loosened, your fingers danced over the hem of your dress pulling it up until you lifted it over your head to take it off. It had no clasp or accessory to get in your way; it came off in one smooth motion, fresh, you felt safe, you abandoned the comfort of the cotton that once brushed against your smooth skin.

He swallowed hard, his eyelids fluttering for a second as a wave of emotions rained down on his head, his eyes traveled over your exposed body, you were standing there in your cream-colored lace bra and panties, simple cotton, nothing fancy, no garters, no stilettos, no orange-red lips, like in Playboy magazines, unreal, fake, pretentious, you were there, standing in the dim light of the table lamp flickering softly, bathing the room in amber tones, long shadows decorating your figure next to the frame of him sitting trapped between your knee in a gesture of power and seduction that he was willing to continue savoring, your lips a natural cherry red and swollen, small traces of moisture from the previous kiss, your hair pulled back was a mess with barely consistent curls, some loose strands falling rebelliously over your porcelain neck. He looks at the outline of your breasts standing out under the thin fabric of your bra, his lazy gaze falling on the curve of your hips and the top of your bare thighs. You took his breath away more times that night than in his entire career as a soldier serving his country.

Your cheeks are flushed with a subtle pink dust from the frank inspection of his gaze, you almost stagger to hide from his gaze, but no, you feel safe with him.

One of his hands wants to assault you, but you abruptly pull away with your knee still pressed against his painful erection. “Wait, let's change the cards and make it more interesting.” Your voice was low, barely a whisper, a clear and specific command. He has been very good to you, he could take it a little longer.

You walked away from him definitively, hearing a sob, almost like a buzzing sound coming from his chest. His breathing hitched; his eyes guided by the plump curve of your butt swaying in the gentle sway of your walk, you were finishing him off.

You sat down on the armchair in front of him. It was smaller, for one person. Your body sank into the soft fabric, your frame fitting perfectly into it, your hips pulled forward to place your two legs around the armrests of the armchair giving him the best view, front row seats to a show for two.

Your panties were soaked, from the center to the seam, clinging to your wet folds. He could see the shape of your pussy, trapped in those uncomfortable panties, his cock throbbed with a sway sending blood directly to his aching cock.

“I want you to come to me slowly and kneel before me...” You hinted with anticipation, as if you knew how loyal he was to your command. He wouldn't deny you something like that, not when you have your legs spread and your pussy trapped in thin fabric, silently inviting him to free it from its confines.

He gets up from the couch, letting out a muffled groan, his legs numb from being in that position for almost an hour. His hard cock bent painfully, begging for friction, for your attention, warmly lubricated with his slick, reddened at the tip. With just a touch of your fingers he would cum hard spilling his cum over your hands, but you wouldn't let him yet.

He approaches you with careful steps, his expression showing loyalty to your command, when his frame rose above you, he hesitated for a moment, unaccustomed to this change of role. The feeling quickly passed, you made him feel good, and he wanted to give you what you wanted from him, to test his limits.

He kneels before you, touching the cold floor with his knees, his hands clinging to your hips pulling you toward him, his torso leans forward, his face inches away from your visible arousal. You make a low, breathless sound, your heart pounding anxiously in your chest.

“Wait a moment... bring one of your hands to your cock and squeeze at the base. I want you to hold back while you take care of me.” Your right leg drops from the back of the armchair, and you extend your foot to press gently against Bucky's cock. He stifles a moan, a strangled whimper, opening his eyes in surprise, his dark eyebrows firmly knit together, furrowing them over his brow. Your foot felt slightly cold, delicate as a rose petal's touch, his cock warm dripping with need. The combination was overwhelmingly pleasurable. “I can feel you... don't masturbate, don't do anything I haven't allowed you to do.”

Your hand traced your abdomen, the fine hairs standing on end at your touch, your fingertips tracing delicate patterns as you moved down your lower belly until you reached the center of your need.

Your index and middle fingers moved your panties aside, revealing your delicate folds. You caught a glimpse of his gaze as you did so. Hungry was the best adjective to describe his situation, his eyes blinking heavily, his long lashes brushing his flushed cheeks, he didn't hesitate for a second.

He wrapped his right hand around the base, slowly and deliberately, his cock contracting in his palm, his jaw muscle tightening, hypersensitive, an unfamiliar stimulus in his body never before experienced.

Your foot is positioned against his balls and you can feel him gripping tightly around the base of his cock. It seemed obscene, your mind reeling to rethink this position, but it worked, you would maintain control over him, watch him this way, making sure he didn't touch himself secretly while he took care of you.

Although he was desperate to sink his mouth into your pussy, he took his time working you, with his free hand grabbing your ankle and placing it on his shoulder giving him more space to travel before reaching your overflowing heat.

His hand slid down the back of your calf, kneading the soft muscle of your legs, he leaned in, his lips pressed a wet kiss on your kneecap, your eyes looked at him with devotion, he didn't break eye contact, he made you feel powerful, loved, and desired, taking his time, he was methodical, the night would last forever for him if he could manage it to his advantage.

Another kiss, on the flesh of your thigh, the hairs on your leg bristled with goose bumps, the cold of the night colliding with the wet traces he left with his lips, his hand squeezed your calf firmly the sensation made you shiver deliciously, you were impatient but you didn't stop him, you just looked expectantly.

That's when you felt him dangerously close to your arousal. He kissed you on the inside of your thigh, then another slower, more persistent kiss, memorizing your vanilla body scent. The stubble of his beard created a delicious friction that tickled you faintly.

You let your guard down for a second when you felt the tip of his nose brushing against the small patch of your pubic hair, above your mons pubis, your hips contracted at the warmth of his breath, he curled up close, a low breathless moan hit close to your clit, he was inhaling your scent, the sweet musk enveloped his senses, the grip on his cock trembled, he's not frantic, he'll keep waiting until he has his release, it's about you, about making you feel good.

His tongue emerges from his lips teasing your clit with a touch as light as cotton, your hips shake, a loud moan spills from your lips, shit... you could have had your orgasm with that tiny lick.

His tongue moves in long, patient strokes, slow at first, your leg trembles, you rest your heel on his shoulder for stability.

His lips gently curl around the bud of your clit, he sucks lightly, your back arches a broken sound escapes your throat coming from deep within your chest. His tongue licked you with precision, slow, tight circles, snaking left and right, savoring the sweet pearl that adorned your pretty folds, he still licks you with control, unhurried, not careless, adoring the musky taste of your pussy. Your erect clit begins to throb intensely in his mouth.

He released your clit with a wet sound, a loud one on purpose so that it would not escape your ears, his tongue slid down searching for the source of your fluids, along the way he licked all your arousal, he was not going to waste anything tonight.

He teased your entrance, licking in circles again, you let out a muffled moan, you smooth his hair back and away from his face, your fingers caressing his chestnut strands before squeezing and holding him tightly, you take a moment to appreciate the sight of him submerged between your legs, licking everything he can, his blue eyes fixed on you with a primitive hunger you were going to lose your rhythm as soon as it began.

His hand reaches up to grab your honey thigh tightly, wishing he could grab both your thighs maneuvering you so your pussy was at his mercy, but the prison of his hand at the base of his cock denied him passage. He was an experienced man, he would find a way to continue to give you pleasure.

He thrusts his tongue into your entrance, pumping inside you. You scream with pleasure, your fingers clinging to strands of his hair. He moans in response, the sound vibrating against you. Your vision clouds and you suddenly see dark, you were so close to coming in his mouth.

He was forced to abandon your thigh, his hand hesitating until it reached your pussy, your poor neglected and abandoned clitoris, his thumb settling on your bud moving it in a creamy, pleasurable way, and it was enough for you to curl your toes in an electrifying tingle.

Your orgasm hits you unexpectedly, like a wave crashing against a rock, strong, slow, your senses sharpened, your vision blurred into a cloud of transparent micro stars, it was the best orgasm you'd ever had in your life, your body sank like jelly into the armchair, you had reached the peak so quickly because your body had been aroused since Bucky told you his sexual anecdote in Paris. You held it back very well and finally released the heavy burden of your orgasm.

Bucky didn't go unnoticed. You saw him pull away from your pussy, the sight was enchanting, taking your breath away. His cute pink lips were parted, panting, with a glistening sheen adorning them, your fluids, the peach-colored dust decorating his cheeks, his unkempt strands of hair falling across his forehead, sticking to the thin layer of sweat, adorable.

The tender scene didn't last as long as you would have liked, his thumb didn't leave its place, continuing his slow movement over your swollen and sensitive clitoris, pinching the bundle of nerves sending invisible sparks of fire through your body, you threw your head back letting out an erotic moan, you no longer held back, you didn't give a damn if anyone could hear you.

His eyes sparkled as they looked at your pussy, wet enough for his cock to roll easily between your folds. His imagination flew, his cock contracted, you decided when you would sink into his length impaling yourself on his thickness.

He dragged two fingers through the mess of your arousal, his middle and ring fingers sliding inside, deeply curved, pressing that rough spot near your pubis, one that sent your hips forward, your ass was on the edge of the couch, you could fall at any moment, he adjusted the support of your leg by raising his shoulder with a simple shrug, his fingers were busy sunk into you up to the knuckle.

He wasn't rough, but he wasn't delicate either, your pussy was lubricated enough to take his fingers inside you. You were hypersensitive, your vaginal walls squeezing him proudly, you were more than ready to receive him.

“James! Shit...” You exclaimed in a cry that echoed throughout the house. He smirked, fuck manners! you thought. Bucky saw your gaze, saw the round, crystal-clear tears swirling at the corners of your eyes. You were at your limit. He thought you had forgotten your dominance over him. Anyway, he wasn't an idiot, he would just give you one more orgasm and let you go.

"Sweetheart… gimme another one. I know you got it in ya..." His voice is raspy, deep, careless, his damn accent lit a fire in you, encouraging you to please him. Your ears were captivated by hearing him after so long, he was broken, just like you. Your breathing was uneven, pressure and moisture building between your legs, without rationalizing, without being able to control yourself.

His two fingers began to pump inside you, a slow and pleasurable stretch, as he slid his fingers in your walls instinctively squeezed them at random intervals, your thighs shook, the sounds were lewd, slippery, skin colliding with skin, your senses clouded by overstimulation.

He leaned back toward you, removed his thumb from your clitoris, and was immediately replaced by his mouth, closing his lips around the bud sucking hard, kissing it luxuriously, pressing your sensitive spot, curving his fingers as best he could, your head hit the back of the armchair, your hands holding on to whatever you could grab, you looked at the ceiling, your lips parted, moaning obscenely, you would deal with your neighbors' complaints tomorrow.

Your hips swayed forward, rolling toward his mouth, the tip of his nose brushing against the patch of hair above your clit, your body spasming, he knew how to handle you when you couldn't stop yourself.

Without warning, he slid a third finger inside you, his index finger, you screamed with pleasure. Your busy foot moved away from his erection and you lifted it onto his other shoulder squeezing your thighs around his head. He moaned loudly with his mouth busy, you felt the vibrations in your sore clit, he didn't stop.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, you loosened up, you felt the familiar burning knot in the pit of your stomach you were going to come for the second time, your feet dug into his shoulders, your thighs didn't suffocate him because they were trembling like jelly around his head.

His three fingers curled at a fast, controlled, deliberate pace, you feel his teeth gently scraping your clit, your body twisted, the pressure was fucking good, your whimpers drowned out the radio interference, you couldn't form coherent sentences, you couldn't command him to do anything, you were at his mercy for this fleeting moment.

His fingers pushed deeper, pumping you with wet sounds accompanying the melody of your moans, the tip of his tongue sliding erotically over your throbbing clit, swirling over you in large, sensual circles, his nose breathing in your sweet scent, he couldn't see you from that angle but he knew, he felt it, you were falling over yourself, he smiles to himself, smug... as if he knew exactly how good he was making you feel, the heat bubbling in your stomach warning you of your second best orgasm of the night, better than the first, you would dare to think.

You screamed in an erotic sound, your pussy walls squeezing him tightly, a little squirt coming out of you wetting his three fingers and part of his chin. You leaned against him, your body curving forward, almost collapsing off the couch, spasms running through you immediately, pleasure rising through you as you had your second orgasm.

Your head is blank, serotonin hormones rush through you from head to toe, you feel it all over your body, you needed this, you had no damn idea how much you needed Bucky to make you touch the sky with his fingers and tongue.

You are still trembling, melting in the intense heat that filled your body when he subtly moves away from your overflowing pussy, removing his fingers from your entrance with a sound that will probably stay in your head for a while, his thumb and index finger sliding down, holding your folds, spreading them gently watching as more of your fluids drip from your sensitive hole.

"Holy hell… would ya look at that, darlin'. You’re makin’ a mess down there." He murmurs in a heavy, excited tone of voice, full of pride in his work.

He runs his tongue all over your entrance, teasing, tasting your fluids, intoxicated by your arousal, cleaning up any trace of your wetness. He wanted to keep working you like a man committed to his woman's desire. You wanted him more than ever, but you stopped him.

You complained with a brief sound, he let you go, looked at you expectantly for your next command, he had been very sweet to you, you were going to reward him, you swore it to him from the beginning.

“Okay... you can let go now, go sit back down on the sofa.” Your voice was hoarse from the moans and cries you had let out during the intense oral sex session Bucky gave you that night. He obeys and returns to the same place where the night began for the two of you.

You get up with difficulty, your fingers tangled in the hem of your panties, which you heaved off and tossed somewhere random in the living room, your drunken but determined steps lead you to him, you climb carefully onto his lap, wrapping your thighs around him. His arms immediately encircle your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin leaving small pink marks from the pressure.

His hard cock was lining up with your slippery entrance, neither of you forced it, it was a natural reaction, his erection rose against you on its own and your wet pussy was ready to receive it.

Your gaze drops to see the scene, he moves one of his hands to cradle your chin, carefully, as if you might break, your fingers crawl freely up and over his pelvis, your ring fingers following the natural line of his V, his toned abdomen, the layer of sweat accentuated on them. You feel his skin shiver at your touch, goosebumps, hairs standing on end, you apply just enough pressure to his trembling muscles to draw a moan from his throat, you look at him, the two of you were ruined, the room smelled of the musk of your sexes, the light flickering tensely over their sweaty bodies, the blush on your cheeks did not go unnoticed by him, his thumb caressing you in a fragile touch, afraid to break that fine thread of intimacy.

"Tell me if this is what you want. I’d never do nothin’ you ain’t ready for. You got my word." You hate him, in a good way, his words sweetened your ear, you hissed a sound with your lips and raised one of your hands to his shoulder to balance yourself, you leaned towards him taking his cock in your free hand, you felt it contract in your hand, his length pressing comfortably between your folds, lubricating it with your fluids, the slow burn giving way to need, the urgency to have it inside you at once.

“Fuck yes... I'll ride you right now,” you muttered without further ado, watching his reactions, his hand moving toward your waist squeezing tightly, pressing against one of your ribs, his other hand resting on your shoulder near your sternum, waiting patiently.

You sank onto his cock without wasting any time, impaling yourself on his slippery length, both of you screaming with pleasure as the heat of your sexes merged for the first time, enveloping you in a feeling of unbridled, instinctive, overwhelming desire.

Your pussy walls squeezed him so tightly, you would be willing to milk him of everything he had been holding back in his testicles for over an hour, extracting every last drop of cum and receiving it in your womb, the idea gave you chills.

You guided yourself upward, moving with the help of gravity, letting yourself fall onto his cock, savoring every nerve, every throbbing vein of his phallus, every sensation. He stretched you pleasantly, but this didn't bother you. You were both well lubricated, your libido sky-high, but you wouldn't last long, you took advantage of your countdown.

Bucky's heart pounded loudly in his chest, his ragged breathing allowing his chest to rise and fall in a slow but torturous rhythm. You heard him curse in low breathless moans.

As soon as your pussy quickly got used to the thickness of his cock, your hips moved erotically, finding a rhythm as intoxicating as rum, making your cunt forget the burning sensation of overstimulation from your previous orgasms, preparing you for a third.

The adrenaline kept you active, but your muscles ached, a slight grimace appeared on your face, he didn't miss it, you felt cold where his hand once rested on your waist, warm and protective, without realizing it you felt a delicious shiver run down your spine when his fingertips traced soft touches along your lower back to the nape of your neck, you shuddered, your cunt contracting involuntarily around his cock.

His other hand moved down from your sternum, resting on your lower waist. He pulled you toward his warm chest, your arms sliding protectively around his broad shoulders until they embraced his neck. His sweat mixed with yours, the silent emotional response of his grip comforting you.

With the strength of his body, he holds you and opens his thighs to make more room, your feet in a squatting position, better than crushing your knees against the sofa.

"I got you, love. Lemme handle it." He whispered reassuringly. You feel his fingers move up your neck until they find your hair, his fingers running through the soft strands, gently scratching your scalp. Your breath catches when the tip of his nose brushes your jaw, moving down to your neck, positioning itself where your pulse begins, smelling the traces of perfume that still linger on your skin after this long day. He loves the floral scent of carnations, the natural vanilla of your skin, the musk that fills the room. He closed his eyes and memorized every bit of your unique scent, his cock throbbing eagerly inside you, you let out a low moan as you felt him buried to the hilt, his cock fit perfectly, the two of you were made for each other and you understood that on that very winter night.

His hips bent toward you, seeking more of that friction, that intimacy of being united in body and soul, you feel his pubic hair rubbing against your clit, a hoarse harmony comes out of your throat, a softened moan, he grabs you tightly preventing you from pulling away from his body, he remained still, the satisfying graze of every inch being dragged along your sensitive walls.

He decided that was enough, and began to penetrate you quickly. The sudden thrust caused your nails to dig into his back. He established a fast, strong, and deep rhythm. Bucky were doing so well that your only words were sounds muffled by your moans of lust.

You didn't want to be left behind, you jumped on his cock, balancing yourself with your thighs, he swayed with you each thrust perfectly matching your own movements, his cock hitting that sweet spot in your pussy, you whimpered, dizzy from the overstimulation, taking you much further than he could take you with his fingers.

Bucky left small reddish hickeys on the skin of your neck, your scent anchoring him to you like a ship at rest, he licked a bead of sweat one that fell from your jaw to your windpipe, his warm breath was too much for your senses, you were blinded.

Your nails dug precisely into his muscular back, he moaned against your throat, his hips meeting yours, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, the wet sounds of flesh colliding, the natural lubrication of your sexes merging, making it faster, louder.

Bucky was holding back for your own pleasure, he wanted to keep listening to your moans, the heat of your cunt pressed against him, your trembling body, he was close to orgasm and wasn't very happy about it after all because he wanted to worship you all night, all your life from now on.

The only thing keeping you grounded was the coldness of his dog tags pressed against your chest. His voice broke into your clouded thoughts.

"Darlin’… you’re squeezin’ me just right. I’m gettin’ close. Tell me, sweetheart… where d’ya want me?" You heard him speak in a whisper, almost like a growl that started under his chest, vibrated in his throat before coming out of his mouth. You didn't answer right away, you concentrated on riding him hard pressing on the ideal spots for your pleasure and for him, your hips moving in circles, your clit rubbing against his pelvis, you're dizzy.

He let out a slow, manly moan, your pussy adjusted to the perfect size of his cock, you hugged him tightly squinting your eyes trying to relieve the pressure building up in the heat of his belly, you were close too.

"I ain’t gonna last much longer. Tell me baby... where d’ya want me?" He asks you a second time, his tone firm and hoarse, gently pulling your hair back to look into your eyes. Your back straightens stiffly, you weren't in your right mind to think about the consequences. You just nodded with your lips parted, the pretty glisten of your saliva rolling down the corners of your mouth.

"You want it, don’t ya? You want me to give you every drop, right here inside. Say it, love... tell me you want it. I need to hear it." You watched the possessive gleam in his eyes. You wouldn't admit it, but you loved this dominant side of him.

“Fuck yes! Fill me up until I overflow, I've been waiting for this all night.” You sobbed, every roll of your hips, the way you naturally undulated against him, the way he contrasted you with his desperate movements, fucking you with all the energy left in his body, seeking to release your orgasm and his.

His fingers dug into the skin of your back, his knuckles white from the pressure, he pulled you back toward his body to press hard into you burying his face in your chest, you felt his warm breath brush your sternum, his manly moans were your new addiction.

It burned and scorched at the same time, your vision blackened for an instant, your walls pulsed tight around him, spasming with every beat of your climax, the friction of his pelvis against your clit was what led you to touch the clouds for the third time, your body was on the edge, a tingling sensation filled your head releasing endorphins and hormones, you had never experienced such strong emotions, it was enchanting, but you couldn't bear another release.

His hips began to shake, careless, uncoordinated movements until you felt it for the first time, you feel him spill into you, he cried out against you, clinging to you as waves of pleasure washed over him, he stayed inside you, his cock throbbing with difficulty, your pussy squeezing him in coordination, strings of hot thick cum covered your cervix and the inner walls of your cunt.

He pushed slowly, savoring every sensation, his release overwhelming him so much that he remained inside you, anchoring him to reality, his grip loosening letting you breathe heavily, his hands falling lazily digging into the soft curve of your hips. Your knees fell to either side of him, your limbs aching like hell, you wouldn't be taking a shower today, even though you desperately needed one. You wanted the comfort of your bed now and all night long.

The silence of the room was interrupted by the beating of your heart deafening your ears, his low gasps, and a soft jazz melody. The damn radio recovered its signal just as you both reached orgasm. How convenient.

You are lost in your thoughts when he takes you by the nape of your neck, lifting his face from your chest towards you. He caresses both your cheeks, his thumbs wiping the wet corners of your eyes, the back of his hand sweeping the sweat from your forehead. You look like shit, and you are sure of that, but he looks at you with admiration, with devotion and love, and that melts you inside.

"Everything okay, dove? You need anythin’?" He asks gallantly, patiently and attentively waiting for you to say something. Outside, snow begins to fall in small flakes, gently hitting your window in silent waves.

The heat of your orgasm and his body heat give you stability, but as soon as your ecstasy subsides, your body shivers a little from the cold of the night. You hug him, resting your head on his chest, your index finger traveling over his dogs tags, taking them between your fingers in a meticulous inspection, reading his information. You look over at the coffee table, where two cups of hot chocolate sit, obviously cold from being abandoned. He never touched his.

“I need my blankets, another cup of hot chocolate, and... are you staying the night or do you have to go?” You asked with a hint of concern in your voice. You had grown fond of him and didn't want to sleep alone. The blankets would feel quite empty without his warmth.

"I’ll stick around till dawn, princess. Don’t worry the night’s still young for us." The corners of his lips curved upward in that familiar way you had known since the first day, kind and flirtatious. His thumbs drew soft circles on your cheek, your hand reaching forward to cover his fingers, intertwining as you closed your eyes in a silent gesture of peace. There was still a long way to go for Bucky and you, for him to ask for your hand in marriage with honor, but you were happy, you hadn't felt this way in a long time, you would convince yourself to give what your heart dictated a chance.