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Break Up With Your Girlfriend, I'm Bored

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A rhythmic pounding of a familiar beat, writhing bodies curved around one another in the semi-darkness. Flashes of light and you catch glimpses of pleasure, fun and desire. You make your way through the crowd, heat engulfing you as you pass couples making out against the dimness of the walls. Hands in the air, hips grinding together, bared skin slick with sweat.

You order a drink. Something strong, sophisticated, made for a refined palette. Your hands wrap around the cold glass as you make your way up the stairs. The balcony offers you an unreserved view of the dance floor. You sip your drink from the comfort of the leather couch, eyes scanning the crowd of bodies.

A black dress, with a zip at the front that’s teasingly undone between the valley of your breasts. Over the knee boots, black suede that’s soft to touch. It’s purposeful, turning heads and rewarding you with the attention you’re craving. There’s only one purpose for you being here tonight.

Your eyes zip through the crowd, searching for your prey and that’s when you see him. A man so handsome he takes your breath away. Motorcycle boots, dark blue jeans that hug the muscles of his thighs, an equally dark shirt with a couple of buttons tantalisingly left undone and a leather jacket that sits snug on his broad shoulders. Dark hair skims his shoulders, glossy even in the low light of the club. A few strands tickle the sharply angled jawline you feel a desire to run a hand along. It’s scattered with stubble, plush pink lips set amongst the coarse scruff and you watch whiskey slip through them. His piercing blue-grey eyes meet yours over the rim of his glass and your heart skips a beat.

A flood of arousal dampens your panties immediately, a jolt of heat shooting straight to your core because he’s looking at you so sinfully. His pink tongue darts out, gliding along his bottom lip and you’re entranced by the way his face darkens almost devilishly. A smirk, a filthy grin of delight that makes you feel bare as his eyes roam over you. He bites his lip, you sip your drink in return, polishing off the last of it before you rise and make your way back down the stairs.

The man watches you, eyes dancing with a feral quality that sends a shiver racing down your spine. The crinkles at the corners of his soulful eyes crease upwards as he all but smoulders in your direction, the electric pull between your bodies too strong to ignore. Almost too strong to ignore. By no means do you give in easily. You’d love nothing more than to feel that scruffy jaw burn against your thighs but if he wants it, he’s going to have to work for it.

A show, just for him. An invitation for him to come and get you. You find a spot in the crowd where he can see you easily, swaying your hips and rolling your body sensually. The leather of your dress strains, skin flushed hot from your growing desire. You imagine him behind you, hands on your hips as he rocks against you. He’s thinking it too, his gaze fixed on you and it’s so alluring. You wonder what it would be like to tug his jacket off, rip his shirt open and feel the hard muscle of his chest beneath your fingers. An arched eyebrow as you throw your head back, hands running down your sides. You want to taste him, the whiskey, the salty muskiness you know he’s rife with.

It’s all too obvious. He wants you just as desperately as you want him. And then, an icy wave washes over you as a gorgeous redhead with dangerous curves flattens her palm against his chest, whispering something in his ear. It almost makes you mad, livid with the way his eyes are still glassy with animalistic desire. They bore into you as he slides an arm around the redhead’s waist and accompanies her to the dancefloor. She’s beautiful, her little black dress a second skin and shiny black heels that you’re immediately drawn to. A vision of perfection. A lesson in seduction. They grind together gracefully, her red lips parted erotically and you feel another shockwave course through you.

It’s unfair, your heat bordering on painful and you’re not even ashamed as your heart prays to God that he breaks up with her. You shouldn’t be thinking such things, but you’re so turned on and he’s the only one who can satisfy you, you’re sure of it.

And then, the unthinkable. As you contemplate your next move the redhead locks her emerald eyes on yours. A crook of her finger. Your heart skips a beat. An equally crooked grin from him. Your feet stumble forward of their own accord. You stop halfway, unsure if you’ve misunderstood but she wraps her fingers around your wrist and tugs you forward. Her full breasts press against yours, her arms draped over your shoulders. You tentatively place your hands on her waist, fingers just brushing his and a spark of electricity fizzles through you.

Short breaths pass your lips as you move in tandem with them. You’re losing yourself, head foggy with lust and a pulsing between your legs with every slide of her hips. A slave to your desire, you gasp when he finally curls a hand around your waist. The redhead seems to like that, smirking and then you’re gasping again when you find yourself in her place. She’s behind you now, her hips against your ass and the swell of her breasts rubbing against your back. You can tell she’s not wearing a bra, her nipples hard through her dress and you bite back a moan.

Borderline dangerous, the way his hands rest on your lower back just teasingly above the curve of your ass. His lips are a breath away from yours and God, you’d drop to your knees and beg to kiss him if you had to. He smells divine, distinctly masculine and powerful enough to drive you dizzy. You clutch his shoulders, relishing in the way they tense under you. It’s then you notice that his left arm is entirely constructed of metal.

The realisation dawns on you that you’re wrapped up in none other than Bucky Barnes and Natasha Romanoff. The former Winter Soldier and the Black Widow. Instead of terrifying you, it turns you on even more.

Bucky grins wickedly at you. You stare back sultrily, hips jutting forward ever so slightly so he knows just how he’s making you feel. You feel a wave of consciousness about his redheaded girlfriend behind you, silently pleading him to ditch her even though it’s definitely not right. Natasha chooses that moment to press her mouth to your ear, her hot breath making you squirm in Bucky’s arms. A question. One that ruins your panties. You nod for her benefit, before smirking seductively at him.

“Can I get you a drink?”

Natasha’s voice is a sultry whisper that cuts through the soft music. Bucky’s choice. It’s sensual enough to set the mood. You perch beside her, crossing your legs and draping an arm across the back of the black leather couch. An assertive smile, one that’s free from nerves. They’re under no illusion that you’re a meek little kitten. No, you’re bolder than that.

“Sure,” you smile. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

Your answer is laced with promises of unbridled passion. Natasha’s red lips curve into a smirk. Oh, she likes you. The clinking of glass, Bucky’s eyes smoulder as he pours three equal measures of vodka. You’re hypnotised by the way he struts over to you both, denim struggling to contain his thick muscles. Your fingers brush when you accept a glass from him. You take a sip, butterflies blooming in your belly and you hum. The vodka’s smooth, burning only in a way that’s exquisite.

Bucky sits on the other side of you and suddenly, there’s a shift in the energy. There’s no small talk. No ceremonious flirting. The thick sexual tension looming in the air is more than enough. He makes the first move, his chest flush against your back as he presses a kiss to the side of your neck. Soft lips, coarse stubble. It’s a delectable combination and heat pools in your belly. You smile, a relieved smile that Natasha meets with wickedness.

Bucky’s lips glide along your shoulder and then back up your neck. You’re shuddering and his right hand grips your waist to hold you steady. He kisses back down your neck once more, a velvety groan slipping past his lips when he yanks the strap of your dress down and bites your shoulder playfully. You cry out, pleasure bordering on pain but God, you want more from him. He nips at your lobe, scraping his teeth along the shell of your ear and you’re soaked, panties drenched. Every flick of his tongue drives you insane, a succession of gasps steadily escaping your parted lips.

You’re a wreck, so close to snapping because God, you just can’t take it anymore. You turn your head, hand cupping Bucky’s strong jaw and finally, finally he kisses you. It’s consuming and heady and needy. You moan into his mouth when his tongue flicks against yours. He tastes like sin, delightful sin and that salty muskiness you dreamt of.

“You taste like heaven, sweetheart,” he whispers huskily. “She’s so sweet, Nat.”

You can’t believe you’re finally kissing him, all that pent up animalistic desire poured into open-mouthed kisses but then he pulls away, kissing your neck so that his girlfriend can have her first taste of you. Oh right, his girlfriend.

Kissing a woman is a unique experience and Natasha is no different. Her kiss is erotically charged, every glide is designed to exact sheer, pleasurable torture and it does. You move your lips sensually against hers, coaxing a delighted purr that makes you smirk. You keep a hand in Bucky’s hair, the other trailing up Natasha’s thigh and it’s the confirmation you all need to take it further.

Bucky stands, stripping himself of his shirt and you sit up to ogle him better. A wall of muscle, chiselled lines across his stomach and a deft divot running between his pecs. There’s already a slick sheen of sweat coating his chest, the makings of a red flush spreading at his collarbone that’s peppered sparsely with dark hair. He smirks at your expression, before leaning down to capture Natasha’s lips in a searing kiss. A pang in your belly at their ignited passion, and she’s whining when he pulls away, walking backwards with the invitation to follow him.

Your heels find home beside Natasha’s, the pair of you giggling as you share more kisses on your way to the bedroom. Bucky’s unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them down his legs until he’s just in his boxer briefs. Black and tight, the front already stained with his arousal. He makes to remove them but you stop him, colliding your lips with his once more as Natasha reaches around to unzip your dress. Bucky’s pupils are blown wide when you step back, shrugging your dress down your shoulders and it makes your head spin, the way he looks at you like he wants to devour you whole.

Natasha’s lips on your shoulders bring you back to the moment and Bucky’s fingers run along the top of your breasts, pushed up in your black lace bra. You’re a mess of throaty moans and wanton desire, heat rolling through you and threatening to overwhelm you. You let yourself be pulled towards the bed, where you all but collapse in a heap of tangled limbs.

Feeling bare, you kneel before Natasha and yank her dress down, exposing her bare breasts. Bucky groans from behind you and you lean forward, capturing a dusky pink nipple between your teeth. She gasps, fingers grasping your hair and pushing your face into her chest. You giggle, biting softly at her nipple.

“You’re so pretty, Natasha,” you say lowly. “Such pretty tits.”

“Bucky,” she gasps with little constraint. “Get me out of this goddamn dress.”

He obliges immediately, unzipping it swiftly and throwing it aside before assaulting her neck with a series of nips and nuzzles.

A whine of disappointment and Natasha senses your neglect, spinning you around in her arms and unclasping your bra. You hiss at the feel of cool air, nipples hardening into peaks but then Bucky’s back in front of you, hands cupping you and squeezing tightly enough to make you buck your hips. A dip of his head, tongue swirling in circles around your breasts at the most agonisingly slow pace. Two can play that game. You palm at the erection straining his underwear and he groans, relenting and finally flattening his tongue against a nipple. Natasha’s fingers pinch the other and your head lolls back against her shoulder.

Bucky’s gorgeous like this, peering up at with through half-lidded eyes as he draws your nipple into mouth, sucking harshly to make you cry out his name. This is everything you want and more. A pause. He finds himself on his back, Natasha hovering over him and you pulling his underwear down his thighs. Your mouth waters as his cock bobs free. Long and deliciously thick, hard and throbbing when you wrap a hand around him, jerking softly as Natasha kisses him greedily.

Fuelled by raw sex, you lean down and suck the angry red tip into your mouth. Bucky moans something primal at the feel of your hot mouth around him, a lewd noise as he pulls away from Natasha to watch his cock disappear inside your mouth. He’s big and you gag when he hits the back of your throat. A low groan. He trembles beneath you.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he clamours. “Your mouth is somethin’ else. C’mon, suck my cock. Please.”

The taste of him is addicting and you eagerly lap at the precome beading at the top of his cock. Natasha kisses her way down his chest and then she’s beside you, head ducking under yours. Her tongue darts out, running along his balls. Bucky almost loses it.

An almost feral growl, like that of a wolf. Two squeals. Your back hits the bed, Natasha landing beside you. Heat swirls in the air. Bucky kisses you, tongue thrusting into your mouth as he circles a finger around Natasha’s clit. And then, his mouth is on hers, his fingers ripping your panties off and teasing your soaking entrance. It’s too much, you can’t take it anymore. You’re overwhelmed and somehow desperate for more. You want Bucky to fill you with his cock. You want him to fuck you into the mattress. You want him to make you come. You need him to make you come.

You wonder what would happen if it was just you and him. If that hungry look in his eyes was for you only. If his mouth was on yours. If his fingers, both flesh and metal, teased your nipples. If he was thrusting his cock into you. If your name was on his lips as he came inside of you.

Bucky is as overcome with the need to feel heat around his cock. He grabs you roughly, flipping you on to all fours and there’s a smug sense of pride that washes over you. You smirk down at Natasha, flicking your tongue over her lips before trailing a series of kisses down her body, each one growing increasingly impatient. You mewl when you feel Bucky’s cock nudge at your entrance. Your tongue glides along Natasha’s wet folds, finding her clit just as he thrusts into you.

Three moans ripple through the air in unison. Your walls clench around Bucky’s cock. He feels incredible, stretching you until you feel so full you can do little but open your mouth in a silent scream. His metal fingers curve around your hip, his flesh hand wrapped around the back of your neck. It’s domineering, you’re at his mercy and you love every second of it.

“So hot, sweetheart,” he drawls. “So tight around my cock.”

His filthy words spur you to lap at Natasha’s arousal. Your tongue’s drawing figure eight around her clit and she rolls her hips up, smearing her sweet wetness all over your face. A finger slides in easily, so you slide in a second, pumping them to the same rhythm as Bucky’s cock. Your whole body is aflame, nerves exploding as his hips snap against yours. A coil tightens in your belly. You curl your fingers and Natasha cries out.

“You taste so sweet, Natasha,” you moan. “So divine.”

Natasha comes first, walls fluttering tightly around your fingers and the sight of her orgasm washing over her triggers your own release. It’s sheer ecstasy, the way pleasure wreaks through you and you gasp Bucky’s name, hips trembling as he fucks you through it, finally spilling into you with a hoarse shout. You’re overwhelmed in the best way possible, nerves exploding under your skin in a cocoon of bliss. Your vision blurs and your arms wobble, giving out and you collapse atop Natasha.

Moments pass. Silence punctuated by breathless pants. Bucky’s wrapped around you, Natasha carding her fingers through his hair. You dutifully ignore their shared moment. You nuzzle your face into her breasts. A hum of satisfaction. Sated expressions. You lift your head, a lazy smile for Natasha. She grins, eyes drifting down to your lips. A flutter of arousal sparks a renewed heat in your belly.

Natasha kisses you fiercely, hands leaving Bucky’s hair to grip your ass. She squeezes playfully and you giggle, teasing her tongue with yours. You run a hand down her neck to her breasts, cupping and massaging her smooth skin. A twitch and you feel Bucky’s half-hard cock against your thigh. He props himself up on an elbow, cupping your cheek but you bat him away. He whines and moves to pepper Natasha’s neck with heated kisses but she swears at him in Russian, shoving him hard enough to send him toppling off the bed. A loud yelp follows a thud. Bucky props himself up on his elbows with a wince. Just in time to see Natasha flip you on your back and pin your wrists above your head. He scratches his head.

“What the hell?”