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Sunshine and Tea Parties

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“You know Steve, I gotta admit, I wasn’t really sure when you first suggested this.”

 

Bucky leaned back and sipped his tea.

 

“So delicious, perfect Russian tea.  Somehow it doesn’t bring back bad memories.…  Oranges, cinnamon, strong black tea, and sugar — it’s just really good.   Hm?”

 

Steve said “mm” in agreement. 

 

“Don’t that smell fantastic?” Bucky asked. 

 

“Mm,” Steve said again.  Then, “unf” as Bucky spilled the tea a little bit, onto the table. 

 

Steve was, in fact, the table. 

 

It happened like this.  Steve, as per usual, was rationalizing his fool ass actions.  Like the time when that asshole Zemo triggered Bucky, and Steve went after him, and grabbed onto Bucky’s commandeered helicopter to keep him from flying away. 

 

Sure, Steve had fucked up his shoulder, but it got better (“that’s how the super serum works, right Buck?”)

 

“One of these days you’re gonna do yourself some real damage.  Then how will you like it,” Bucky retorted. 

 

Steve just shrugged, his damn perfect eyebrows dancing with nonchalance, his long lashes lowered over blue eyes glinting with muleheadedness. 

 

“I think you like it,” Bucky said through narrowed eyes.

 

Steve shrugged again, one shoulder, lifted and lowered, and his chin gave a swagger. 

 

“You like it so much, let’s see how you take what I dish out,” Bucky said.

 

Steve looked up and his eyes were dilated, hot with the challenge issued and accepted.

 

“Sounds like cake and tea parties,” Steve said. And Bucky could have eaten him alive. 

 

So that’s how they got here, where they are now.  Steve is in a stress position no one but a super human could hold.  He’s belly up, knees bent to a right angle and his arms are straight back above his head.  He’s holding on to a railing on the balcony of their Wakandan suite.  (Yes, they had a kickass suite, above ground, with a view of the jungle reserve.  Ie, swank to the 99th degree.)

 

And Bucky is serving himself a nice tea party, out in the sunshine: Russian tea, pretty china they’d bought at the market, and elegant seed cakes, the kind Peggy used to treat them with, imported from a London bakery. 

 

Steve can’t talk (for once) because he’s holding a bit in his mouth.

 

Let’s take note: the bit isn’t strapped around the back of his head.  He’s clenching it between his teeth, because that’s how muleheaded he is. 

 

And the bit has leads.  And this is the genius.  Bucky has Steve’s perfect pretty pink nipples clamped and tied to the bit on long, leather leads.  And then some more of these leads are strapped around Steve’s cock and balls, and isn’t that a sight?

 

Steve’s perfect cock, thick, red, and weeping, wrapped just that much too tightly with a thin strap of leather.  Steve’s perfect balls, heavy and full, held out from his body, wrapped and pulled away, just far enough, by tight leather cords.  All those straps wrapped around in such a way, down his taint, between his ass cheeks to the ring on the plug sticking out of his ass, up around his thighs, and back through the d-ring on the silicon cockring; from there along the lead to the bit between Steve’s perfect teeth.  So yeah, Steve’s biting down hard on the bit and it’s pulling at his own cock and balls and tits and ass and all Bucky has to do is nibble on seed cake, enjoy the sunshine, and slosh his tea a little when he sets it down on Steve’s quivering stomach. 

 

“How ya doin, Stevie?” Bucky really wants to know. 

 

“uh gun do ish uh deh” Steve insists. 

 

“Thought so,” Bucky says. and deliberately “spills” his hot tea all over Steve’s tied up dick. 

 

“grrrrrr” Steve howls, clamping down.

 

“Oh no,” Bucky says.  “I’d better get that up.”   It’s not boiling hot, Bucky’s not purely evil.  It’s just hot enough to sting at first.  Then Bucky begins to slurp the spill from Steve’s taut tummy.  Steve quivers a little more as Bucky’s lips and tongue tickle softly here and there.  The tea runs down and drips off Steve’s balls to the floor.

 

“Oh what a mess, Steve,” Bucky says. “Tut tut tut.”

 

Bucky pushes his chair back.  The tea cup and cake plate — along with the small, hot tea pot, are still resting on Steve’s taut abdomen.  Bucky moves around, and slowly, slowly, inches Steve’s bent knees farther apart. 

 

Steve readjusts as his knees scoot apart — knees still bent at that same relentless ninety degree angle, bit still clenched between his teeth, pulling cruelly at all his own nethers. 

 

Bucky keeps it up with random kitten licks at the spilled tea.  He laves at Steve’s balls, softly at first, probing the flesh stretched tight between the thongs, then a little harder, jabbing his tongue into the tormented testicles inside the tied ball sack.

 

He imagines the hot tea sloshing in its cup as Steve tries not to clench his stomach too hard or pull away. 

 

Bucky follows the twisted cords down Steve’s taint and up between his asscheeks.  The plug is a beauty.  Thick; a beautiful dark blue, stealth suit color, with the ring on the end, so that Bucky can tug it if needed.  Now, he just traces around Steve’s tightly stretched hole with his tongue, held open, glistening with lube, and tasting just a little of perfect Russian tea. 

 

Steve groans. 

 

“uggy!” he yells.  But still he doesn’t move.  He’s really got no one to blame but himself.

 

Bucky comes up for air, after licking Steve’s ass a few more times.

 

“You called?” he says primly.

 

“uggy!” Steve begs. 

 

Bucky leans over and takes one perfect earlobe between his teeth.  Sucks  and bites and chews for a while, as Steve curses and moans. 

 

When the ear is good and red, Bucky moves to Steve’s right tit.  Oh, it looks good.  That perfect little teat all white and red, pinched inside the clamp.  “I think this one has had enough, do you agree?”

 

“MM” Steve says.  He can’t nod.

 

Bucky pinches off the clamp.

 

“UHHH” Steve roars, as Bucky just licks ever so gentle.  This is so much fun. 

 

Now Steve is lop sided, and that really messes with him. 

 

If only Bucky could undo just one ball….

 

Then he gets a wicked idea. 

 

“Can you hold on for one minute?” Bucky says with a grin. 

 

Steve is flashing fire and lightning at him.  Bucky knows he can do it.

 

“MM” Steve says with intensity.

 

Bucky is into their kitchen and back in a second, with their good kitchen shears. 

 

Steve’s eyes widen.

 

Bucky cuts through the thong binding Steve’s left testicle.  Blood rushes in.

 

Steve absolutely roars.  The tea pot rattles ominously.  Steve sways, tries to regain his balance.  He can’t.  The loosened thong means his cock is pulled one side, and now the right testicle is coming back to life in a slow, exquisite rush… and when that ball is free, the tension round his cock will loosen….

 

Bucky leans down, takes the tip of Steve’s cock in his mouth, and unsnaps the silicon cock ring. 

 

Steve is undone. Too much everywhere all at once. 

 

His taut core pulses up just as Bucky takes up the tea pot, places it safe on the balcony floor.  Lips wrapped tight around Steve’s tip, with his other hand Bucky catches the cake plate and tea cup in a miracle stack only he (Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, at your service), could have ever hoped to master.

 

China service safe, Bucky puts his soft right arm under Steve’s narrow waist.

 

“Give up?” Bucky asks Steve.

 

“Never,” Steve says, panting, holding the pose with arms, legs, whole body quaking, but he did it, he let go the bit.

 

Bucky swallows Steve’s cock down to the root, and Steve comes, collapsing, shuddering, lowering himself to the balcony floor as well as he can while losing his mind, and Bucky’s arm catches him, guiding him down. 

 

They knock over the tea pot, but at least it doesn’t break.

 

“I never got any of that perfect Russian tea,” Steve pouts, after he catches his breath.

 

“Plenty more where that came from,” Bucky grins.