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my kind of woman

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The idea strikes him like lightning, passing by the glittering department stores that line the streets.  

Full-figured mannequins line the wide shop windows, adorned with pearls and lace, pretty and elegant, all smooth lines and ample curves.

Women and girls stop to peek inside, imagining themselves wearing the outfits on display. 

And that’s exactly what Steve does. 

He stops beside the towering window of Abraham & Straus, peering in to look at their selection of intimates, one of the few stores that openly displays them instead of keeping them in boxes tucked away in the back. 

He imagines himself wearing the silky, delicate panties, shaping to the soft swell of his backside like a second skin, hugging his hips and cradling his cock just-so. He imagines his long, slender legs in nylons with the stitching up the back, held up by a lacy garter at the thigh.

He imagines Bucky coming home after a tiring day of work, sweaty and riled up, seeking stress relief. He pictures himself wrapped up like a present for Bucky to tear apart—a sweet secret for just the two of them to enjoy.

He would take Bucky to bed, lay him out flat on the sheets, shape and reshape his aching muscles, kneading at his back and chest like a needy kitten. He would sit Bucky upright in the bed, plant himself right over his lap and insistent erection, and gently urge Bucky to take his shirt off for him.

He visualizes the look of shock and arousal painting Bucky’s features at the sight of his pretty bralette, his expression quickly turning feral as he buries his face in Steve’s chest to suck bruising kisses against milky-white skin.

He would timidly ask Bucky to take his slacks off, to show him the real surprise, looking at him through his lashes and tacking on, a please, daddy? at the end of his sentence. 

And of course, Bucky would let out a growl, relishing in his use of the nickname he loves hearing so much. 

Steve snaps out of his thoughts, realizing he’s still standing there in the middle of the sidewalk looking into the shop window. People are passing him by, and he’s taking up the walkway space. 

Not trying to look like a sort of peeping tom, gawking at women’s lingerie, he books it into the department store and makes his way to the women’s section, no second thoughts. He receives a few odd stares, what with being about five-foot and rail thin, and looking through the Ladies’ section.  

“Can I help you, sir?” a shop employee seems to pop up out of nowhere, looking down at him from her nose, her uniform crisp, looking like it’s never been touched. 

“Uh, yes, I... I’m shopping for my gal,” he gulps, but if he’s given himself away, the shop worker hasn’t indicated so. 

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” 

He sucks in a breath. He didn’t think he’d get this far. 

“I-I’m not sure, I uh, don’t really know much about this, to be honest,” he blushes, pulling a hand behind his head to rub at his neck. 

She gives him an understanding smile, giving in to his uninformed boyfriend buying panties for girlfriend rouse and guides him to the different racks of the different kinds of undergarments. 

He touches each garment lightly, imagining himself in each one he lays hands on. He ends up picking out a pair of baby pink silk panties lined with a floral lace, a matching garter belt and a pink lace bralette. He throws in a pair of nude-colored nylons for good measure. 

The shop attendant whisks him away to the counter to tally up his purchase, and even though he uses most of their money for groceries that week, it’s a purchase well made. 

 

~*~ 

 

As soon as he gets back to the apartment, he tries on the lingerie before the dresser mirror, staring at a version of himself he’d probably see in one of those Tijuana Bibles he’s illustrated for.  

The soft, silken material cups his cock gently, and he could see the outline of the head through the fabric. He’s half hard already, just looking at the way how delicate he looks, like a dainty china doll. 

He doesn’t want to ruin the material before the fun has already started, so he slides on the garters and the nylons, and clasps the bralette behind his back. He gets dressed in his normal outfit, and feels a rush of adrenaline knowing what lies underneath. 

He checks the clock on the nightstand and sees that it’s already after five, so he decides to head to the kitchen to get started on supper. 

Meat, potatoes, and beans are what they’ve been living off of as of late, but it fares well and they go to bed every night with a full belly and are still able to make rent on time.  

He decides on making a hearty stew, something thick and satisfying for Bucky to eat after a long day at the docks. 

It’s a bit odd, he thinks, how much he acts like somebody’s housewife. Waiting for Bucky to come home, all dolled up for her best guy, cooking a nice meal for her hard-working husband to enjoy. 

Something hidden deep in the recesses of his mind soars at the thought of providing for Bucky, seeing him heavy-lidded after an especially indulgent meal, well taken care of and happy. 

It seems a bit demeaning in a way, but Bucky knows that Steve’s not doing this because he feels obligated to—but rather because this is something he genuinely wants. 

He wants to slink down to his knees before Bucky, and give him his reward for being such a wonderful breadwinner. He wants to thank him in his own special way, by lapping delicately at his cock and being so sweet and docile—only for him. 

And if that makes him any lesser of a human being? Then so be it. 

Besides, Bucky loves being sweet on Steve in return, jumping at any chance to show some love for his fella. Whether it’s just plucking him a flower from the cracks of the sidewalk, or picking up a bottle of pop for Steve from the deli after work, or buying him a new pack of drafting pencils when his are finally down to the last nub. 

He normally wouldn’t permit this behavior, citing their dire financial situation as a reason, but he furtively knows that they could afford it with the extra hours Bucky’s picked up at the docks. 

The enjoyment Bucky gets out of spoiling him rotten is too much for Steve to have the heart to put an end to.  

While moving around the kitchen, he feels the nylons bristle against the coarse hairs on his legs, actively reminding him of what he’s wearing with each step he takes. He feels his dick twitch in his panties, brushing against the luxurious fabric it’s confined to. 

It’s not long until Bucky gets home, and with each passing second, his anticipation grows. The stew is almost done on the stove, the scent of it wafting through the small kitchen space and into the living room. 

His hands are shaking with nerves as he adds a dash of salt to the pot on the range. He can’t help but to think of what would happen if Bucky didn’t want him like this, wasn’t into it. His face burns with embarrassment, at the scenario playing out in his head. 

He doesn’t let his thoughts linger on that too long. 

The stew seems to be ready, from Steve’s quick taste from the wooden spoon. He turns it to a low simmer just as Bucky enters the apartment, carrying a brown grocer’s bag and with stains on his utility shirt. 

Buck doesn’t hesitate when crossing the living room to reach Steve in the kitchen, immediately plastering himself to Steve’s back and wrapping two beefy arms around his middle.  

“Hey, baby,” he breathes hotly against Steve’s ear, hands traveling down to rub up and down from his sides to his hips, shamelessly kissing at the sensitive skin behind his ear. 

“Smells good,” Bucky comments, stealing his spoon to get a taste. “Mm, tastes good too.” 

“Keep your paws off, Mister. You can wait,” he chides, smiling. 

“Mm, don’t think I can.” Bucky spins Steve around to face him and gives him a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. Bucky’s hands wrap behind his back, and his wandering fingers threaten to slip under his waistband and ruin the surprise. 

“Grab yourself a bowl— don’t want supper to get cold,” Steve evades, shrugging Bucky off and diverting his attention.  

They share dinner over their tiny rickety oak table with mismatched chairs. Underneath the table, Bucky’s foot slowly creeps its way up his leg, and so they play a game of footsie while chatting about their day.  

Thankfully, Bucky can’t feel any of his lingerie through his socked foot, and he sighs internally with relief that he hasn’t been bagged. 

Bucky rubs his foot perfunctorily over Steve’s growing erection while unleashing a diatribe about Mrs. Henderson upstairs letting her cats outside, and how they keep yowling outside their window for table scraps.  

All the while, Bucky pretends that he’s unaffected by what he’s doing to Steve, barely paying him any attention as he grows increasingly hot underneath the collar.  

Just continues rambling on about some knucklehead from work, or about some new picture he’d like to take Steve to see.  

Steve is painfully hard inside of his trousers, his head straining against the dainty fabric of his panties. Just the mere thought excites him— that he’s wearing something so scandalous underneath, and Bucky doesn’t know.  

Pushing his bowl forward on the table, Bucky announces he’s done with his meal. Steve’s lizard brain leaps with joy from feeding his fella, keeping him full-bellied and sated. He takes the initiative in the lull of conversation to plant himself right over Bucky’s lap.  

Bucky lets out a surprised huff of laughter, and wraps his arms around Steve. He’s already hard inside of his trousers, his thick erection brushing up on Steve’s cheeks. Steve starts a languid roll against Bucky’s cock, kissing up on his neck all the way up to his pliant mouth.  

“What’s gotten into you today, huh, baby?” Bucky grunts, lifting Steve by the hip with one arm and grabbing at his ass with the other.  

“Need it,” Steve groans, grinding lazily against Bucky’s abdomen and breathing wetly at his neck.  

“Need what, sweetheart?” 

“Please, please ,” Steve breathes, almost too quiet to hear.  

“I need you to tell me what you want, honey. I can’t give you what ya want without tellin’ me,” Bucky says, pulling Steve up and down to grind against him.  

“Need you inside me, Buck— fuck, I need your cock, please,” he begs, breath coming in soft pants.  

“Can’t go a day without needing a cock filling you up, huh, sweetheart?” purrs Bucky, bringing his thumb up to press against Steve’s plump lower lip. “That’s all right, sugar. I know you need it. You’re so sweet—sweeter than honey—I ever tell you that? What did I do to deserve a fella like you?” 

“Lord knows,” says Steve, letting out a puff of laughter from his nose.  

Bucky pinches his ass in retaliation and kisses him lazily, licking at his open mouth and sharing breaths while Steve continues rubbing off against his abdomen.  

“Got a surprise for you, daddy,” he halts his grinding for a moment and looks at Bucky from underneath his eyelashes, sweet and docile.  

“Yeah, baby?” 

Steve stands up on wobbly legs to pull Bucky up from his chair and guide him to their bedroom. He lays Bucky out flat on the bed, belly to the mattress. Steve climbs over top him, straddling his thighs and kissing lines down his back.  

“What’s all this about, honey?” Bucky asks, but his voice is thick with lust and it’s clear that he’s enjoying this.  

“Takin’ care of you, daddy,” he says, running nimble hands down his heavily muscled back, kneading and pulling apart any knots of tension.  

Bucky melts under his touch, letting out soft moans and unconsciously grinds his erection lazily against the mattress.  

“You work so hard, daddy. Gotta take care of my best guy, don’t I? Wouldn’t be very nice of me to just let you spoil me rotten and not give anything in return, would it?” 

“Oh—mm, baby, you don’t need to. You do so much for me, sugar—ngh, fuck — you don’t even know. Just lookin’ so sweet for me is enough, doll. So sweet and pretty, all for me.” 

Steve shushes him with a finger to the lips and continues pawing at the thick, ropey muscles in his back.  

“Just relax, daddy. I’m taking care of you tonight.” 

Bucky moans at his ministrations, his insistent hands turning his body into a puddle of goop.  He leans into the touch, seeking his hands like a flower to the sun. Once he decides that all of the knots in Bucky’s back and shoulders have been adequately massaged out, he gently nudges Bucky to flip over and face him.  

Bucky’s pupils are blown,  heavy-lidded and lust-hazed. Steve quickly relinquishes control to Bucky, letting him pull him over his erection to straddle his thighs.  

Now it’s time to put his plan into action— his plan for Bucky to rail him so hard he becomes one with the mattress. 

“Take off my shirt for me, daddy?” He begs, batting his lashes and giving his best faux-innocent look.  

“Thought you were taking care of me, baby? Makin’ me do all the work here, huh?”  

He places two hands to Bucky’s broad chest, brushing off invisible specks of dust. “Please, daddy?” he leans in and whispers in his ear.  

He loves seeing Bucky like this, all riled up and giving in to his innocent act. Some might look at their dynamic and think that Bucky’s the one in control in this relationship— but it’s all Steve.  

Now, he won’t sit here and pretend that he doesn’t love it when Bucky gets like this— power drunk and acting like a lazy god— he loves that. But he could easily strip all power from Bucky and leave him begging for it just as well as Bucky could with him.  

He’s got Bucky wrapped right around his little finger, and he smiles thinking about all the things Bucky would do for him at the drop of a hat. 

Warm hands slide up his shirt, grazing the bottom of his bony rib cage. Bucky tears off his shirt in one fluid motion and stares at the pretty pink brassiere underneath, eyes wide and jaw dropped.  

All at once, Bucky’s hands are everywhere on his body, sliding up and down his sides, pinching at his nipples, fisting handfuls of his ass like he was starved for it.  

“Oh— sweet Mother Mary, sugar, you look better ‘n sin,” Bucky rumbles, words breathed like a benediction, his pupils blown wide.  

Steve blushes from his face down to his chest, feeling small under Bucky’s assessing gaze.  

“My sweet girl,” purrs Bucky, tracing over the delicate lace covering his chest.  

“You look so beautiful, honey. Stunning. Wish I could take a picture of you like this, keep you tucked away in my back pocket forever.” 

“Bought it today, I hoped to god that that uptight lady at A&S wouldn’t think I’m some kind of fairy,” Steve says, pushing his chest into Bucky’s lingering touches.  

“Aww, but sweetheart, you are a fairy. Don’t go denying what you are, baby,” Bucky says, tone patronizing.  

“So you’re right, I am. But that don’t mean all a’ Brooklyn needs to know that I wear a bra and panty set for my fella because some shop lady’s got a mouth the size of New York.” 

Bucky does a double-take. “You got panties too?” He looks about five seconds from cardiac arrest.  

“Wanted to be all pretty for you, daddy,” he hums, leaning over to kiss below Bucky’s ear.  

Steve gets off of Bucky’s thighs to strip his pants off and show him what he’s been dying for him to see all day. Bucky’s eyes are laser-focused to his every movement, eyes heavy lidded and glossed with lust.  

He stands before Bucky bare, feeling shy now that they’re down to the nitty-gritty. He wants to hide inside himself, shield himself from Bucky’s pervasive glare.  

Bucky’s cock gives a tremendous twitch from where he can see in his trousers and his eyes are darker than he’s ever seen them.  

“What’re you so shy about, sweet thing? A pretty girl like you shouldn’t need to hide from her man,” he drawls, “Come sit on my lap, baby, I’ll make you feel good.” 

“Daddy,” he breathes as Bucky pulls them upright so he can properly straddle his muscle-thick thighs and sit. 

“I’m here, honey, ain’t goin’ nowhere.” 

Bucky wraps his arms Steve, pulling him over to sit over his erection and grinding lazily between the cheeks inside his lacy panties.  

Steve lets himself melt into Bucky’s arms, feeling safe and secure knowing that he’s taken care of. He lets his guard down and his heart swells inside his chest.  

“You’re pretty as a picture, baby. You know I’ll treat you right, don’t you? Tell me you do, honey, I’m dyin’ to know.” 

“Mm— I know, daddy. You always treat me good,” he purrs, lapping delicately at Bucky’s neck like a kitten.  

“Just about gave me a heart attack, baby, wearing an outfit as pretty as this. Such a perfect little girl I’ve got, waiting patiently for me to come home, desperate for it and just falling right into my lap.” 

“Yeah,” Steve moans, grinding down on Bucky’s hard cock.  

“And those nylons ? I’d be going to every Sunday service just to pray that you’d wear those one more time— and I’m as Jewish as all get-out.”  

Steve lets out a titter of laughter, not interrupting his intent grinding over Bucky’s erection. Bucky lets out a breathy moan at the sensation and halts him with a hand at his slim hip.  

“Such a needy girl, can’t do anything unless you’ve got a cock filling you up all day long,” he chastises, giving Steve a tsk-tsk-ts k  

“I got half a mind not to just take you to work with me and have you seated right on my cock all day long, just keeping me nice and warm, makin’ all the other fellas jealous that they haven’t got a girl as sweet as mine. Doesn’t that sound good, honey?” 

“Please, please—I-I’ve been good,” Steve moans. 

“You’ve been so good, sweetheart, looking so sweet and pretty just for me. So thoughtful, my girl is, isn’t she? Such a nice gift as this,” 

“Daddy, please,” he begs, impatient and his cock throbbing in his silky lace panties.  

“What do you need, honey? Tell daddy what you need and he’ll give it to you, cross my heart.” 

“Need your cock, please, daddy,” he breathes reaching down to tug at Bucky’s pants as a silent request for him to take them off.  

“Since you asked so nicely, a’course, sugar. Anything for my best girl.” 

Bucky unbuckles his belt and with a clink and Steve shoves off his lap just enough so Bucky can tear off his trousers and briefs in one fluid motion.  

“Want me to fuck you while you’re wearing these, and get ‘em nice and mucked up, huh, babydoll? Or, are you too nice of a gal to do that?” asks Bucky.  

“‘M not too nice— please !”  

An invisible levee breaks for Bucky as he dives to Steve’s chest and licks hungrily over his cloth-covered nipples. Steve moans in response, arching his chest toward Bucky’s insistent mouth, pulling a hand up to drag through his brown hair.  

“Y’think you could do your makeup all pretty for me next time honey? Wear a pretty pink lipstick to match your panties and the pretty blush on your cheeks. D’you want that, babydoll?” 

“Yes, please,” he croaks, a blush spreading across his cheeks and down his milky white chest. Bucky’s words go straight to his cock, hard as nails and the tip wet, smearing all along his silky panties. 

Oh, I — Buck, I can’t- ngh wait,” Steve pleads, begging Bucky to get on with it and fuck him already.  

“So impatient, baby,” he chides, “Anyone ever teach you some manners?” 

“Please, daddy, please, fuck me!”  

“Alright, alright,” Bucky concedes, “go fetch the slick and the rubber for me, baby.” 

Steve scrambles to grab them, his body moving quicker than it ever has. He slides Steve’s panties out of the way and warms the slick in his palms and slakes around an inquisitive digit to circle around Steve’s needy hole. 

He moans in response, pushing back against his fingers, trying to get Bucky to finally push inside and open him up. 

“Patience, sugar. I wanna treat you, jus’ like you did for me tonight, all dolled up like that. You don’t want to finish so quickly when we’re only just getting started, don’t you, baby?” 

He shakes his head frantically and relaxes; trusts that Bucky will give him what he needs. Bucky knows best. 

Finally, a thick finger slips in, and he feels uncomfortably full. The finger slips in and out, not going up too far, just opening him up the slightest bit. He moans and unconsciously grinds against it, feeling it brush against his prostate. 

Steve moans at Bucky’s single finger brushing against the spot, legs shaking while trying to hold himself up to straddle Bucky. 

“That’s it, honey, I’m just trying to make you feel good, ‘s all,” purrs Bucky, leaning over to give Steve the gentlest of kisses.  

Steve looks down to see that Bucky’s affected by this just as much as he is, seeing his cock standing proudly against his belly, an angry-red and leaking.  

He smirks a little bit to himself, proud of his ability to get Bucky so hot and bothered. Like a trophy, he tucks this moment away in the shelf of his mind for safe-keeping.  

However, he’s not exactly happy that Bucky’s still got his shirt on.  

“Shirt. Off,” he demands.  

“Ooh, bossy. I like it,” he says, tearing off his shirt with one hand, the other still fingering his ass.  

His chest is slicked up with sweat, skin glistening in the low lighting of their bedroom. Steve runs his hands through the hair on his chest and groans.  

Bucky gradually increases the fingers he slides in, slick and hot, until his hole is loose and ready.  

By now, he’s a blubbering mess, tears falling down his cheeks and pre-come soaking the front of his panties.  

Bucky rolls the condom over his length and slicks himself up, eyes closing in bliss at the slight relief the friction gives.  

Steve imagines that Bucky’s not in much better shape than he is; Bucky’s cock is jumping with each touch and throbbing so hard he could practically see it.  

His mouth waters just watching Bucky slick himself up, his big hand gliding smoothly along his length and moaning fit to beat the band.  

Bucky must catch him looking hungrily at it, so he pulls Steve closer to his chest frantically and just pushes his cock right in, no warning. 

“Oh—oh, God!” he howls, part in shock over the sudden intrusion and part in pleasure, as Bucky’s cock brushes against his prostate just right.  

“My name’s Bucky, baby, but that works too,” he hums, breath coming in short pants and hot against Steve’s neck.  

Bucky lifts Steve up on his cock, lowering him down in one smooth glide. His muscles bulge with each movement; and he looks barely even bothered by lifting Steve like rag doll up and down on his cock.  

He’s so hard inside of him, filling him up to the brim, fit to bursting. He feels so full, so good.  

“So fuckin’ tight for me, honey. Feel so good wrapped around my cock baby. Should keep you here like this all day, just making me feel good.” 

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, moans catching in his throat.  

“Yeah? You want that, honey? You want to just be another hole for Daddy to put his dick in, keep him warm? Tell me you want it, honey, I need to know if you do.” 

“I want it,” he says, his cock so hard it could cut diamond.  

He doesn’t know why he feels like this, willing to let Bucky talk to him like he’s an object— just another toy for him to use, but he likes it.  

He likes it, and god damn it, is he going to Hell.  

“Wanna be yours, daddy,” Steve breathes as he quickens the pace, practically bouncing on Bucky’s cock.  

“You’re already mine, baby— fuck ,” Bucky lets out a low growl, hands coming to squeeze Steve’s ass brutally in both palms.  

“Want everyone to know,” he groans, hanging his head back with his mouth open.  

Steve imagines Bucky just keeping him constantly slick, plugged up and ready for him to bend over wherever and fuck him ‘til the cows come home.  

Just imagines him fucking load after load of come into him, and plugging him right back up and carrying on with his day, like fucking him is a chore.  

He wants Bucky to be able to just slide right on home inside of Steve,  and keep him seated on his full length, not moving an inch. Just let Bucky take his fill, keep his dick warm while he’s reading the paper or reading a book.  

Steve moans brokenly at the thought, and Bucky licks inside of his open mouth, his kisses lazy and absolutely filthy.  

“Wanna come,” Steve groans, resting his chin on Bucky’s shoulder and sucking bruises over his throat.  

He gives up bouncing on Bucky’s cock, the burn of overexertion too taxing on his thighs, and lets Bucky take control of the pace.  

Bucky fucks up into him at a brutal pace, relentless and starved. His head bobs with each thrust, his cock head too. Steve’s cock is a dark red, almost purple and aching for release.  

“You could come any time, doll. It’s no hardship for me.” 

Steve just about doubles over, surprised by the force of his own orgasm, spilling into his panties like a teenager.  

“Oh, oh, oh, daddy!”  

Bucky feels him tighten around his cock as he comes , and he follows suit barely even a beat later. Bucky hangs his head back, baring his throat and lets out a long shaky whine.  

He spills inside of Steve’s tight wet heat, seemingly buckets of come contained by the sheath. His dick twitches as it gives a final spurt of come, softening rapidly inside of him.  

“God, baby, that was— I— Oh my lord—“ Bucky stutters, pressing his forehead to Steve’s, sharing breaths.  

Bucky runs loving hands appraisingly down Steve’s bare back and he shivers from the touch.  

“You got a lotta nerve, springing that on me like that, baby,” he says breathlessly, snapping his bra strap.  

“Wanted to surprise you,” Steve shrugs.  

“Well, you did helluva job, baby.”  

Steve smiles and kisses him, clenching unconsciously at Bucky’s flaccid cock still inside of him, and grinding.  

“Hold your horses, baby, can’t get it back up that quick,” he huffs and starts to pull out, but Steve stops him.  

“Can I just stay here, with you inside me?” he asks sweetly, playing coy.  

“Why’s that, sweetheart?” Bucky smirks, lashes fanning over his cheeks.  

He knows exactly what to say to get Steve all pinked-up and blushing like a virgin, but Steve secretly likes Bucky pushing his buttons, and not-so-secretly knows that Bucky likes pushing them.  

“Wanna keep you warm.” 

Bucky growls and pulls Steve closer, but grimaces at the feeling of come dripping from the condom.  

“Let me get myself out of this first, huh?”  

Steve nods in agreement and pulls off from Bucky’s cock with a slick sound and whines from the loss. Bucky leaves to go clean off, and Steve spreads himself out on the bed and sighs, boneless and fucked-out.  

He comes back into the room and slips right behind Steve, his bare cock slicked up and ready.  

And just like that, he guides it in firmly, twitching slightly, his poor cock trying to get to full hardness still so soon after coming.  

“Y’know, you think next time you could get some pretty little kitten heels to match?” Bucky says, apropos of nothing.  

“Who said there’s a next time?” 

Bucky smiles. “Oh, there’s gonna be a next time.” 

“I’ll think about it,” Steve says, back to Bucky’s bare chest.  

Two burly arms wrap around his skinny frame, swallowing him up completely.  

Steve smiles in satisfaction; Bucky knows now that no matter how long the day is, he can always come home to a nice meal and his best gal waiting for him.