Thinking a whole lot about how good it feels to see someone after the anticipation has been building for a while. There's not much I love as much as a good sexual tension.
Maybe it's been a while since you last saw your dad's best friend but now he's here in front of you, you're counting down the minutes until you can get him alone.
It's hard in a room full of people though. He's just walked into your parents' kitchen, a beer in his hand and as soon as you realise he's looking at you, you look away. You know yourself well enough. Maintaining eye contact with him would leave you fizzling and it's much too early for that.
He doesn't look away. No one would have noticed he's staring but you can't help wondering what he's thinking about. Is he imagining the last time he saw you and how pretty your face looked painted with thick stripes of his cum? Or is he imagining how it feels to slide into you, burying himself to the hilt in your warm, wet, fluttering cunt? Maybe he's imagining the way you beg him not to pull out; the way you clamp your thighs around him and make sure there's no chance of him cumming anywhere except inside you.
If he wasn't thinking about any of that before, you're convinced he must be now. He's leaning against the kitchen counter, ignoring a conversation going on around him with a smirk on his lips and you have to wonder if he can read your mind.
'I'm going upstairs, follow me in 10.' You send the text and leave the kitchen without even looking at him. You have yourself convinced that if you look at him, people will know. They'll know everything. They'll know you think of him every time you touch yourself and they'll know that doesn't even come close to actually being with him.
You've been settled in your room for 14 whole minutes before the door opens.
"Couldn't even hold it together a couple of hours?" Bucky sounds smug and he has every right to.
"I could but I didn't want to. Why should I?" You're on him in seconds, tugging at the collar of his shirt, using it to press his lips against yours.
It's a frantic kiss, all tongue and teeth and breathy moans, hushed as much as possible.
"I want to go back downstairs with your cum dripping out of me." You don't have time to waste so you might as well get right to the point.
"Sweetheart, we both know that's not what you need." Bucky's fingers trail up the inside of your thighs, under your skirt. "You don't need me to cum. You need me to take the edge off."
The soaked fabric of your panties only proves his point. He watches you while he trails his fingers in concentrated strokes against your clit, enjoying every tiny gasp he earns from you.
"I can treat you properly later like we planned. Just let me help you out." His eyes are trained on yours while he slips your panties down your bare legs. With your cunt exposed, he presses you back onto the bed, kissing from your knees, up the inside of your thighs.
One finger sinks inside you, followed by another before his lips seal around your clit, his tongue flicking beautifully.
You've gone from no stimulation to so much at once and it's making your head spin. God, he's good at that. He needs this just as much as you do and it's lovely to be with a man who gets off on eating you out the way he does.
The way his fingers curl inside you is truly breathtaking. "You're going to have to be quiet, angel. At this rate, the whole house will know I'm up here making you cum against my mouth."
