The leaves have begun to burn from a soft green to fiery red and golden orange. Darkened veins leading to cracking stems that snap against even a light breeze, and break off to flutter and flit to the forest floor.
Or in this case a nicely trimmed yard, sectioned off from the rest of the neighbors by a thick wall of trees.
You were by the tree line picking at the dryer sticks and bark for the kindling.
Bucky was chopping off splinters of wood from some logs he'd knocked together for the upcoming fall and winter. No doubt he'd add to it during the next couple of months so he'd gladly spare a few for a cozy fire under the stars with his special girl.
You'd been hoping to take advantage of the fair weather for an occasion like this, before everything turned mucky and the crisp breezes became harsher.
You come together at the little stones of the fire pit with your respective bundles. Ready to kick the night off right.
Bucky took your kindling and get the spark of little flames started. Soon the fire bloomed and was roaring well into the chill of an autumn evening. By the warmth of the fire you sat and drink together. Often laughing at something silly the other had said. Each bottle loosening your muscles more.
You might have had a bit too much to drink, and you could barely register what Bucky was talking about anymore.
You hadn't wanted to bother him to repeat himself, and so you let him drone on.
The deep timber of his voice almost lulling you to pass out in the lawn chair.
The drinks had given you a flirty buzz, sending a shock or two down your back. The only bit of energy left to keep you awake.
Bucky has stopped his little story to look over at you with a glint of amusement.
The bright amber glow brightening his dark blue eyes.
God you love those eyes. You wanted to place your lips onto each eyelid and pepper kisses along his cheeks. You wanted to be in his arms and it compelled you to push yourself out of your seat to join him in his chair.
Bucky nearly leaps up when he sees you struggle to get up.
His drinks made him a bit wobbly but it didn't nearly go to his head as fast as yours had.
You're up on shaking legs, laughing like an absolute idiot. In a split second he's got you by the waist before you can stumble into the fire.
Finally, he's got you close. The tip of his nose blushed almost as red as his cheeks. The empty beer bottles next to his chair sitting as further evidence of his own intoxication. Yet he still holds your wavering form in his strong arms. Your cheek pressed to his vibrating chest.
"HEY!!!" His voice slaps against your drunken mind.
My body has nearly turned to putty in his hands and he's about to lose his grip.
"Hey, baby. Wake up!" Bucky's grip oh your waist has to tighten just to keep you upright.
"M awake. M fiiiine" you plant a foot on the ground and push up until you've got some form of balance.
Once you have proper footing walk him back to his own seat.
He flops back with a thud and you soon follow to land ass down on his hard knees.
You're gaining back your sense of equilibrium and sobriety.
You are mesmerized again by the dance of the bonfire. Little flames licking up into delicate waves like little fluttering pixies flying away from the embers.
Bucky's fingers slip up onto your hips and weave into the hooks of your belt loops before dragging you farther back on his lap.
With the warmth blooming onto your skin from the fire, and the warmth of his chest pressed to your back leaves you melting in his embrace.
He presses his lips to the back of your neck and peppers kisses along the way to the exposed patch of skin at your shoulder.
"I see you're having fun. How much have you had to drink?"
"Just enough"
Your good humor turns into a fit of giggles at the ticklish brush of his stubble against skin, and before long you're wiggling around in his grasp like a rambunctious cat.
He digs his nails into your hips before slinking his arms around your stomach to hold down your squirming giggling form. Pressing his growing erection along the cleft of your denim clad ass.
Tonight you'd chosen shorts.
A poor choice against the crisp autumn night, but It gave Bucky free rein to palm the soft skin of your legs when he'd have you in his clutches.
The tight blue fabric was his only barrier to your slickening folds.
He loved it when you got like this, thrashing in his arms like a mischievous cat. He grazes his teeth against the shell of your ear as he wrangles you onto his erection and slips his hand between you to pull the fabric aside.
His other hand presses you down to feel you slicken the front of his jeans.
His breath runs hot down your neck and every syllable comes out as a needy growl.
"God, you are so sexy" it slips past his lips as a dark rumble against your ear and feathers down her neck.
You twist the upper half of your body to slap a sloppy kiss against his mouth. With the swish of locking lips peppered in with the knocking of your teeth and his.
You were a puddle in his arms, and he loved it.
He loved getting to squeezed and wrestle with you when you got tipsy. Getting to catch you and delve his needy fingers into your gushing pond and watch you trickle down his fingers.
He'd undone his zipper as you bounced and wiggled in his lap, making sure you did bounce on top of his cock just yet.
He white knuckles the small slip of denim that had covered your soft opening, to make sure he had enough room to guide himself inside.
He's finally able to still your squirming body to press his tip to your entrance, and he dug his nails into the sides of your tight denim to drag you down onto him.
You can feel the twinge of his cock stretching out your entrance a split second before your wet flower welcomes him all in.
The seam of your shorts was pulled hard against the grip of his fingers to keep them out of his way as he marveled at the familiar squeeze and flutter of your little cunt.
His other hand anchors you to his lap so he can roll his hips against yours.
The First thrust slides against your walls with a tense but not unwanted friction and you can already feel his tip brushing the back of your pussy.
He'd only just started and already he's going in deep and knocking against the knot in your belly.
He hooks an arm below your breasts while using what leverage he had on your thigh where his hand was still hooked on the crotch of your shorts, and you pull you up off of him an inch at a time until you've lost at least half of him.
His grip tightens around your midsection and he yanks you back down to slam back inside.
"Can you feel me all the way up there, baby girl?" his hand slips from your midsection down to ghost his fingers over your mound and tickle up your stomach. Forcing your punch drunk brain to bounce your body in his lap to keep pace.
"I bet you could feel me all the way into your fucking throat" his hand snaps to you shoulder to bring you down with a harsh slap of your thighs on what little of his is exposed.
He doesn't expect a response. He's already turned your mind into soup, and wouldn't have been able to say a word.
Yet, you are anything but silent. You couldn't contain your moans even if you tried and each one spills out into the air to echo off the trees. Only to bounce back against your ears
The tasty friction dissipated, letting him thrust as fast as he pleased. Slamming against the tightening spring in your lower body and forcing the hair from your lungs.
His only hinderance now was those fucking shorts.
The string of fabric was now cutting into his fingers and had begun to pull away from the seams as the two of you picked up more momentum.
He stands, and white knuckles his grip onto the little strip of fabrics.
Your brain is too foggy to register the sound of tearing denim and he rips your shorts, but you feel his movements aren't as restricted.
He anchors both his hands at the base of your thighs and yanks you back onto him.
He's always had his little hidden barbaric strength but this time it really showed as he'd held you just high enough to dangle off and ground but your toes could brush along the grass.
You have no balance and the position doesn't last long until you topple over and nearly face plant one of the hit rocks of the fire pit.
But Bucky's quick and catches you in time leave you leaning near the flames. Not close enough to get burned but just enough to feel the flames lick warmth onto your skin and the heat bloom across your face.
Your whole body is set alight and it's bowing back with what little strength you had left.
Bucky's still has you, and each of his thrusts are shaking you to the core.
You tight and flutter around him as more heat blossoms out from your body and he spills out inside you with a throaty groan.
"Fuck!"
Your name is nearly a shout past his lips, and he continues to echo it as a whisper.
You hang limp in his arms, still so full with him.
Body warm and brain numb, you're his marionette hanging from a string.
Ever so gentle with his hanging doll he guides himself out of you to set you in his chair to leak out on the seat.
A for sure stain to be dealt with later.
You start to feel cold without his touch as he leaves you to fetch the bucket, and you barely notice the slosh of the water as he puts out the fire.
He can tell you're already nearly dosing when he has to carry you inside.
The night was once again calm, with a lingering smell of smoke.
A beautiful autumn night. Ideal for a roaring fire and a lover's embrace.