Bucky is so lucky, like, his man does it all! I can just imagine some guy saying something along the lines of 'good luck finding a gal/guy who'd do that for you, let alone enjoy it' and Bucky is just like wait do people not usually like sucking dick, taking dick, and orgasming five times in a row?
“That’s the stuff of dreams,” Dugan whistles.
“You’re damn right,” Jones sighs.
“What?” Bucky asks, and Dugan turns around the little dirty postcard for Bucky to see.
“Huh,” he agrees.
“That don’t phase you?” Dugan demands. “Damn. You must get around.”
“Or jerk it in the shower.”
“Shut up,” Bucky mumbles, and shifts in his cot, looking back down to his book. “Seriously, what? Yeah, she’s a very beautiful lady.”
“I’ve never been with a girl who wanted to do that.”
Jones and Dugan stare and Bucky in disbelief.
“What?” Bucky asks.
“No, suck it at all,” Jones explains.
Bucky narrows his eyes. “What?”
“You know, if you want a lady to – is he for real? Are you for real?” Dugan asks.
“He’s for real,” Jones affirms.
“You mean you’ve never–?”
“No, I have,” Dugan says. “And I know Jones has because he wouldn’t stop bragging about it back in Nice. But unless she’s a loose lady you’ve gotta be really nice, you’ve gotta take her out to dinner, you’ve gotta be sweet, you’ve gotta be engaged…”
“No you don’t,” Bucky frowns.
Dugan and Jones share wide-eyed looks.
“You’re tellin’ us that you get this,” Jones says slowly, and points to the postcard, “On the regular?”
“Hell yes,” Bucky says.
There’s a moment of stunned silence.
“How?” Jones asks.
“I don’t know, I ask?” Bucky says. He folds up his book. Watch the pronouns, Barnes. “She offers?”
Blank stares. “She likes it,” Bucky tells them, equally slowly. “You know – she wants to?”
“She wants to?”
“What are you two, a couple of parrots? You heard me, she wants to. She likes it down her throat.”
Jones coughs. “Jesus,” he says.
“She does,” Bucky insists. “She likes being on her knees, I don’t know.”
“You married, Barnes?” Dugan squints.
Hah. “Nope,” Bucky says.
“Nope,” Bucky pops the ‘p’, acting disinterested. “I just know how to take care of her right. She likes my dick, boys. It ain’t my fault.”
Jones rolls his eyes. Dugan keeps squinting. “You never mentioned a girl before, how do we know you ain’t making it up?”
Bucky says, “What, you wanna hear about her? You horny assholes.”
Jones and Dugan exchange a look.
“Fine,” Bucky says. “Her name’s Steph. Pretty little blonde thing, slip of nothing, ninety pounds soaking wet. Sweetest little tits you’ve ever seen. And a cute little ass to boot. As soon as I get home from work she can’t get her hands off me. One time she let me pick her up and fuck her right up against the door. About bit a chunk out of my neck trying not to scream.”
“She let you?”
“She loved it,” says Bucky, truthfully. “She likes getting spanked, too.”
Dugan chokes on his own spit. Bucky bites down on his grin while Jones pounds him on the back.
“Jesus, kid,” Dugan wheezes.
Bucky shrugs. “Speakin’ the truth.” He frowns. “She won’t wear the lacy things I buy her, though,” he says. “Gets spitting mad every time I ask.”
“What a fucking tragedy,” says Dugan flatly.
“His dick’s probably magic,” Jones says. “You know, witchcraft of some sort. Like a snake charmer.”
“I got a big dick and she likes it,” Bucky admits, a little cocky now. “I’ll never fuckin’ know how she takes it all, though, I’ll be honest. She’s so goddamn little I’m always afraid I’ll break her in half.” That’s true, too.
“Shut the fuck up, your dick is not that big,” Jones says.
“Jones, this whole entire platoon has seen each other buck-ass naked,” Bucky says. “You both know just how big my dick is.”
“It’s not like either of us ever really sat there staring at it, you vain motherfucker,” Dugan tells him.
Bucky shrugs. “Well, she thinks it’s a good one.”
Dugan squints at him. “Show us.”
“Show us your dick.”
“You fucking son of a –”
“Barnes,” says Jones. “Seriously.”
Bucky looks between them and huffs a sigh. He jumps off his cot and stands in front of them and unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants and shoves them down and puts his hands on his hips.
“Jesus motherfucking Christ,” says Jones in flat shock.
“Did you sell your motherfucking soul?” Dugan demands.
“Nope,” Bucky says, and zips back up and collapses back on his cot.
“You are one lucky son of a bitch, Barnes,” Jones tells him. “I hope you know that.”
“I’m certainly learning it,” Bucky says.