#isra sinclair

It’s mid-evening on a quiet Thursday in the apartment that Specialist Isra Sinclair shares with one Sergeant James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes. The two had finished their dinner half an hour ago and were currently enjoying a new episode of their favorite show.

Cuddling on the couch, they lie together with her head on his chest and their legs stretched across the cushions.

As soon as Isra asks that question, Bucky bursts into a laugh she rarely hears nowadays. It’s beautiful and she commits to memory, being half tempted to record it to keep it forever.

Just like old times.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” he’s in near tears, the blue of his eyes highlighting the near watershed under the incandescent light. A blush creeps up on him too, dusting his neck and cheeks. “I’m not watching any more baking shows if you’re gonna ask questions like that.”

Isra sits up, chuckling. “I’m serious. You and I were going at it like rabbits back then during our commando operations and I distinctly remember you wanted to bring food into it.”

Bucky sits up himself to meet her gaze. “Like you said, I was a horny bastard. I remember wanting to do a lot of things to you,” he wiggles his brows, smiling that toothy grin that always makes her laugh.

“And we did,” she winks. “Maybe because we were watching the Bake Off, but you remember that, don’t you?”

Bucky rubs the back of his neck, his blush growing. “I actually do. I wanted to lick a lot of things off you. Chocolate syrup especially.” The look in his eyes changes and so does the mood of the room.

“I actually have a surprise for you, now that we’re talking about this,” Isra says, putting her hands on his shoulders, scooting herself closer. The heat in the room, she swears, is rising. Her hands are hot and the skin beneath Bucky’s T-shirt is hotter.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky leans in. After everything they’ve been through, that old Brooklyn babe is still there, teasing her like it was 1940 again. “What is it?” His hot breath hits her face and down her neck, causing her hair to stand on end, ending a chill down her spine.

“Yeah,” she cannot help herself as she leans in herself, biting that damn petal lip of his. “It’s in the bedroom. Now, I think—no, I know, you’ll love it. But I can’t help but want to do that thing I promised you years ago too.”

“You mean the chocolate syrup thing?” He raises a brow.

“Yup. Well,” her attempt at seducing crumbles for a second. “I don’t think we have chocolate syrup. But, I remember we bought whipped cream the other day.”

Bucky raises both brows. “That could work. Less messy too.”

“So you wanna?”

“Oh hell yes, doll. I wanna see what you got in store for me.”

There’s a thrill in her heart, like she’s a child waiting for her surprise instead of him. That thrill burns her from the inside, pooling a deep liquid hot at the bottom of her abdomen.

She kisses him, as if she’s pushing all her lust-induced enthusiasm into him. Like he needs it. Knowing him, he’s probably already half hard.

“Go to the bedroom and I’ll be there in a sec.”

Bucky, in all his devilishly handsomeness, kisses her back. The two stand up and go their separate ways.

Their apartment was an open one, the kitchen and the living space all in one room. The only thing to remotely separate it was the line between the tile and wood and a few tall beams. Apparently the poor industrial look of bare bones beams and brick walls was popular in this day in age. Modern times are funny.

Isra opens the fridge, searching for the whipped cream. She finds it, hiding behind the milk and juice. She always has to hide it on the occasion that Sam visits and eats it all, like the animal he can be. He can be cute, but not that cute.

Cold can in hand, Isra makes her way to the bedroom. When she opens the door, she finds her man, shirtless, pantless, lying on the bed and propped up on his elbows, clad only in boxers. A noticeable tent stirs and presses against the cotton and front button.

“Looks like someone’s ready.”

He chuckles. “I’m always ready for you.” That damn voice of his too. Deep and growling when he’s like this. So desperate for her.  She loves it when he takes charge, but to have him like this for her? Christ, if there’s nothing more she loves.

Putting the can on the nearby nightstand, she opens one of the drawers and pulls out the exact thing she’s looking for.

“What’s that?” Bucky purses his lips.

“It’s your surprise, Bucky babe. It’s a cock ring.”

The ring in question was a black silicone one. It has one circle ring and another attached ring but in the shape of an oval. It vaguely has the shape of a keyhole.

Bucky eyes go wide and he sits himself up.

“Shit, really?” The blush returns, redder than ever. “I didn’t know they made them with silicone.”

“Yeah,” she nods. “They’re cheaper and we don’t have to worry about it getting stuck since it’s all stretchy.” She shows him by putting both forefingers through one of the openings and pulling it wide. Bucky nods with her.

“And what exactly are they for? I know they were a thing back then but I never why.”

Isra remembers hearing about them too, back then. She heard that less than desirable men would wear them, like dirty sailors and gangsters—mostly when they wanted to mess around with working girls. She heard about them again after returning to New York while screwing around the internet, ending up in more adult places.

“From what I heard, it’s great for cutting circulation on your cock, making it more sensitive. And with this part,” she tugs at the oval ring, “it can tug at your balls for me so I can have both my hands handy.” She winks at him. A smile grows on his face, one that grows so far and so full of desire, of hunger, she knows what he’s going to say before he opens his mouth.

“Put it on me, doll.” He damn near hisses it.

And he is so damn perfect for her.

“Anything for you, sarge,” Isra winks and gets to work.

Slipping her shirt off her head, she unhooks her bra and tosses it behind her, to be forgotten for the next hour or two.

Like a cat pouncing on its prey, Bucky doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around Isra’s newly naked abdomen. Those hot lips of his place a blazing trail of kisses to her neck, down her collar, and between her breasts. His large hands find her waist, smoothing them down to her ass. He gives each cheek a generous squeeze, eliciting a groan from her and near growl from him. The hands leave and they make their way up, grabbing her breasts, the cold contact of his metal hand making her gasp. She wasn’t as busty as most ladies, but Isra loves the way they fit in his hands, like they were made for them. Bucky himself had expressed just that to her once and she never forgot.

His kisses reach her nipples, hot tongue licking the very tip of one before he takes it whole in his mouth. Isra gasps once more, hands on his head, her fingers raking in his hair. She misses those long locks of his. He cut them for a reason and she respected it, but damn did he love to have his hair pulled, even then, and especially with those locks. Having cut his hair after the defeat of Thanos, it just wasn’t the same. But the hair was growing again and it was just enough to pull. He moans, the vibrations rippling through her breast and she feels that heat again between her legs. She has to be soaked by now. But that has to wait.

Bucky continues to suck and bite at her breasts, moving on to the other one. Knowing him, he’ll leave marks. Not because he was territorial, but because he just could not help himself. She still wore them like proud little badges, even if it was just for herself to look.

As much as she loved his mouth, it was her turn to use hers.

Hands on his shoulders, she pushes him back down on the bed and gets on her knees on the floor. Thank God they got carpet installed.

Bucky moans like a bitch in heat and she hasn’t even started.

The tent in his boxers has grown, a small wet stain appearing near the front button. Kissing up his thighs and hips, Isra reaches for the whipped cream.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your thighs?” She says, spraying the cream up and down each thigh.

“Mmm,” Bucky hums, his arms covering his eyes, his legs trembling only so slightly. But don’t worry, she’ll have them shaking in no time. “You’ve only told me a couple hundred times.”

“Well, here’s another one. I love your thighs. I want you to crush my head between your legs when I have your cock in my mouth, and you cumming down my throat.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Isra!” Looks like she hit a nerve.

His thighs are a work of art, as if the great sculptors of the past were the ones to have made them. Michelangelo especially would have loved them. She wants to capture it herself, with photos and paintings and poems. Anything to tell the world how beautiful they were.

Thighs quiver when her tongue runs the length of them, catching the cream with each lick. Bucky gasps, gut heaving in and out of breaths. The cream is sweet to the taste as is his natural musk. She licks the other thigh, taking her time to clean them right up, hands rubbing each little muscle from the inner to outer thigh. Repeating the process, she grabs the can and it hisses out more cream for her to eat.

When she’s finished the second time, ready to dispense a third round, a hand grabs her wrist.

“Doll, just . . .” Bucky’s out of breath, as if he ran several laps around a track field. And for the Winter Soldier, that’s nothing to him. “Touch me . . .  Please.” Oh, he sounds more than ready for her.

The wet stain on his boxers has grown, spreading wide to the front of it. His cock must be weeping, as wet as she must feel at the moment.

Grabbing the waist band, she pulls them down, the relief apparent to Bucky as he gives a sigh.

Bucky was a well-endowed man. He was well-endowed then and he still is, thankfully. The serum hadn’t touched that part of him. She remembers the first time she saw him, how she thought that maybe the girls back then knew this about him and that was partly what made him popular. And if they didn’t know, well then, she was quite the lucky girl. Still is.

His cock grew hard as a rock, angry veins pulsing on the side, with an angrier, redder tip. He was cut, the tip leaking out streams of pre-cum down his shaft and down his heavy set balls.

“Let me get the ring,” Isra kisses his little head and reaches for the silicone ring.

Thinking of the videos she had seen previously, she tries her best to remember the right way to put it on.

“Tell me if it ever hurts and I'll take it right off for you. Alright?”

Bucky nods, still catching his breath. “Okay,” his voice wavers. If she were a more cruel woman, she’d make him beg and give his ass and thighs a good slap or ten. Maybe another time.

Putting her fingers into the oval shaped ring, she stretches it out and pulls it over his shaft and balls, slipping it through to where they end and his body begins.

Bucky makes a strange noise, as if he was punched in the gut.

“You okay?” Isra asks, alarmed at the sound. Bucky nods, his hands covering his face, his body rocking side to side.

“Yeah,” his voice hoarse as he nods at a furious pace. “Fuck Isra, that’s good.”

“Yeah?” She kisses at the skin near his cock, making her way to the base of his shaft. “Let me try one more thing.”

Now with the circle ring, she pulls forward and slips his shaft through it, wrapping it around the base. Bucky gives another groan, back arching off the bed.

“Atta boy. You’re ready for me. And you look sweet enough to eat.”

The can of whipped cream returns and she dispenses it all over his hips.

If only she had a cherry to top it all off. But she guesses the tip of his cock was the closest thing to it.

Her tongue returns to his skin, licking off the sweet cream and the sweet taste of him. She eats half of it before her hand finally touches his cock, wrapping her fingers around the thick length and pumping it up and down. The man before her groans, a beautiful song to her ears.

More cream is eaten until there is none left. The only thing left was him and she could not wait to eat him all up.

Her lips kiss the tip, the skin a near purple. His whole cock and balls changed different colors, the rings cutting a bit of circulation, blood trapped within it. She takes him whole, all the way down until he hits the back of his throat, nearly triggering her gag reflex. Taking the time to collect herself, she returns and starts to suck and blow him.

Head bobbing, hands find her hair. One digging its nails into her scalp, the other one with metal fingers pressing down, twisting themselves in her hair. Isra moans, the vibrations, she knows, driving him crazy. Bucky’s hip bucks and sinks into the bed, trying so hard not to move and more so not to choke her.

A super soldier in her own right, Isra takes her hands and pulls down his hips with her own superhuman strength to keep him still. But he’s stronger and there is no stopping him. But, did she really want him to stay still?

The speed escalates. She hollows her cheeks to suck every bit of him, wanting the sweet cream of his own in her mouth. He’s damn near crying now, unable to shut up even for a second. If the neighbors didn’t know what they were doing then, they sure knew now.

At least they know what a good job she was doing.

There’s no point in holding his hips down, so she moves her hands underneath him, and grabs at the cheeks of his ass and starts to slam her mouth harder on to him.

“Ahhhh fuck! Isra! FUCK!”

He’s getting close, she knows it.

His hands grab fistfuls of hair, and they start to pull her head up and down his shaft at a speed she can no longer keep up.

Even if she started out being the dominant one, he always finds a way to take over. But it’s her mouth on him, so who is to say she’s still not in charge?

By now, he’s loud, unable to close his mouth. She hears every little gasp, every little groan, every little curse on that sinning mouth of his.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

He’s getting there. It’s only a matter of time before he spills into her.

“AH FUCK! ISRA! ISRA! ISRA!” Gasping, back arching, hands tightening, her eyes burn in pain, tears spilling down her face. Bucky growls, voice low. “I’m cumming!”

And that was the only warning she got as hot ropes of cum spill into her mouth, down her throat and on her tongue as the pace slows down. Eventually, he slows down to a full stop and his hands let go of her, the strength leaving them and falling to his sides. His whole body has gone limp, as if the spirit of Bucky has now left.

Isra gasps as she finally pulls her mouth off him, cum spilling out of her lips, on his softening cock and onto the carpet. The two spend a moment or two collecting their breaths.

The silence breaks when the hissing of the can sounds.

“Mmm, that was sweet.”

Getting up on wobbly legs, Isra grabs the can of whipped cream and dispenses it right in her mouth. Taking the ring off him, she gets on the bed and lays down on her side, looking at the man she just sucked the life out of. There has never been such a red faced man in this world until now.

“You okay?” she asks, hands going towards his face. One rubs the side of his stubbled cheek, the other petting and raking his hair. Another moment passes before he opens his eyes.

Glassy, bright blue; Bucky smiles and closes his eyes once more.

“Doll, that was the best one yet. We are definitely keeping that ring.”

Isra laughs and Bucky follows her.