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A Little Tighter...

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Light gleamed beautifully off the silver metal digits of James' hand. The reflected rays bounced around the room as you turned them over, inspecting them reverantly.

James had beautiful hands- metal and flesh.

His metal hand was smooth and cold, the rivets along his fingers always felt great inside you. Each shifting plate caressing the tender nerves of your velvet walls. It was beautiful piece of machinery.

Meanwhile, his skin and bone hand was rough and calloused- 70+ years of field and gun work making its mark. It was warm and meaty, big and strong- you had no doubt in your mind his flesh limb was as dangerously powerful as his metal one.

And you loved it.

You loved the danger those beautiful hands possessed. The beautiful Yin and Yang coming to a dangerous balance, all in this one beautiful person.

"James!" you wheezed, feet planted firmly on the kitchen island as you arched your hips high. Your body burned and cooled simultaneously, the sheen of sweat on your body drying due to the slight breeze of the open living room window.

Your hands grasped James' wrists tightly, pulling his hands tighter against your throat. His metal digits squeezing as deliciously as his flesh ones, cutting off blood and air flow with caution.

"Harder," you breathed, breasts bouncing with every thrust as he plunged into your body.

James groaned, muscles rippling in his arms and back as he rolled his hips steadily. "Harder where, doll?" he panted above you, eyes trained on your face, watching for any signs of true discomfort with the asphyxiation. "Harder on your throat? Or harder in that pretty little cunt of yours?"

He licked his lips, tasting the sweat that gathered on his upper lip, lessening his hold on your throat minutely.

"Pussy!" you wheezed, eyes squeezing shut as you clenched your inner walls. "Fuck me harder in my pussy, James, please!"

James groaned loudly, picking up the pace of his undulating hips and tightening his grip on your throat once more. A strangled moan left your lips, hands leaving his wrists to land on your breast, fingers shakily toying with your own nubs- eliciting the smallest whimpers.

The end was close, James could tell at the tightening of your inner walls on his cock. His balls were wound so tight it was nearly painful as they slapped against your other hole. A little more, he thought, curving his back more to rub his pubic bone into your clit, the touch gave you a jolt as you keened.

Your fingers pinched around your nipples tightly, your hips rolling as best they could to crush your clit against him. It wasn't enough.

But the tight squeeze he gave your throat as he spilled his seed into you, was.

Pleasure clouded his mind as he met his climax, ass flexing tautly as he rammed his hips into your own and held them there. His hands squeezed more than they probably should have, but it didn't matter as he felt the warm rush of your own juices spilling over his cock.

James moaned slowly, hands gently releasing your throat and coming to grip your hips. You gasped for breath- the rush of air flow giving your orgasm an almost heavenly feel as blood rushed to your head. Your hands clenched around the mounds of your breast, head tilted backwards, ragged moans spilling from your lips and tears from your eyes.

It was beautiful, everything James did and gave you was was shame it had to end.

You body finally sagged, back meeting the cool countertop of the island, sending chills down your body. Pitiful whimpers escaped you, the breeze cooling the tears on your face as James slowly pulled you back and forth on his softening cock, watching your juices spill and coat the counter.

"You did so good, doll," Bucky breathed above you, thumbs stroking your hip bones lovingly. He slowly slips out of you, his cock hanging limply as he sets you down on the counter gently. He presses one more kiss to your throat before moving out of the room, into the visitor's bathroom.

He was Bucky now, not James. You had certain needs and Bucky could not find himself capable of them. So he became James when your needs arised, a seperate entity to keep his piece of mind, and to keep you pleased.

You laid limply on the island, lower legs hanging off the edge and eyes falling shut. It was bliss, the steadying beat of your heart, the cool sweat on your skin...the familiar slap of skin on tile as Bucky walked back into the room.

"Feel better?" Your eyes cracked open as he gently cleaned between your legs, the towel warm against your skin. He brushed back his sweat soaked hair as he turned his gaze to yours.

"Yeah," you croaked, eyes squeezing shut at the burn in your throat.

Throwing the towel into the sink and moving to your side, Bucky quickly shushed you, pressing gentle kisses to your lips and throat where it would surely be bruised for a few weeks.

But that didn't matter, you needed this, and you would need it again soon.