Part 7; Your fill has arrived
anonymous
September 7 2009, 10:57:50 UTC
“It’s true, you arsehole. You don’t look as ridi-Mmph!” Arthur’s half-assed attempt at an insult was cut off by a rough kiss and hands gripping his hips with the same force. Arthur was shocked for a moment, before he looped his arms around Alfred’s neck to press further into the kiss. Alfred pulled away after a moment, barely pausing before he began to kiss up and down the Brit’s neck. He followed by licking along the same trails, then finally nibbling at the more sensitive spots. Arthur had already been squirming by the time Alfred made it to the crook of his shoulder, and the attention that began to be lavished on that sensitive spot made the Brit cry out in pleasure. It had been far too long since the blonde man had last had sex. Not to mention that this was HIS Alfred, the boy he’d found himself surprised by. The boy who’d turned into a man when he had his back turned. Sex with him promised to be more than just sex. Arthur panted a bit, squeezing his eyes closed with slight impatience. “Alfred, what are you waiting for?” Alfred looked thoughtfully at Arthur for a moment before his gaze turned to one of smoldering passion . “It’s my prize, can’t I choose how I enjoy it? Why move fast and have it be over, when I can draw it out as long as I want? I want to drink in everything, and I want to make you squirm. For the moment, you belong to me.” Arthur shuddered at the last statement, barely able to hold back a small moan. “F-For the moment, I’m yours…” Alfred moved to the man’s neck again, taking his time to move over his shoulders, collarbone and chest. He was in no hurry, yet there was nothing slow or calming about his actions. Every little touch felt like fire to the man pinned to the table, and he wasn’t afraid to show his pleasure. When Arthur liked something, he let Alfred know with loud, pleased moans. Turned out there was nothing the American did that the older man didn’t like. “Alfred, please…We can…We can bloody well do this slow another time! I want to be fucked. Now.” The Brit said sternly, reaching up to tug on that silly strand of fly-away hair…What was it called again? Oh yeah, Nantucket. The reaction startled Arthur, who hadn’t expected anything but the acknowledgment and follow-though he wanted. The shocked moan that left the blonde’s mouth and filled Arthur’s mind was neither of the aforementioned. In his shock, and to reconfirm it, Arthur tugged on the strand again. Alfred moaned softly, hips pressing against Arthur’s in need. The male below him gasped, realizing that Nantucket must be something like Feliciano’s, Lovino’s, or Roderich’s ahoge. Not only did it cause those delicious sounds, but it created friction. He tugged, twirled, and slid his fingers over the strand of hair and watched as the younger male began to moan and writhe in need, grinding their hips together. Arthur moaned softly, tossing his head back with a tug of the strand to force Alfred’s hips to his own again. The strand slipped from Arthur’s fingers as his mouth was captured desperately, and he moved his hips against the American’s once again. Alfred pulled away from the kiss in just enough time to catch the blonde’s moan, and his eyes glittered with lust and excitement. Teasing Nantucket had done just as the older man had planned, and the idea of taking it slow was no longer an option. Alfred slid down Arthur’s chest and was quick to tease one pert nipple with his mouth and let his fingers do the same to the other. The response was a gasp, a moan, and the pressing upward of the Brit’s chest to the teasing lips, tongue and teeth. He buried his hands in the slightly mussed blonde hair, fingers sliding over Nantucket’s base. He would not allow the idea of slowing down to surface.
Arthur was shocked for a moment, before he looped his arms around Alfred’s neck to press further into the kiss. Alfred pulled away after a moment, barely pausing before he began to kiss up and down the Brit’s neck. He followed by licking along the same trails, then finally nibbling at the more sensitive spots. Arthur had already been squirming by the time Alfred made it to the crook of his shoulder, and the attention that began to be lavished on that sensitive spot made the Brit cry out in pleasure.
It had been far too long since the blonde man had last had sex. Not to mention that this was HIS Alfred, the boy he’d found himself surprised by. The boy who’d turned into a man when he had his back turned. Sex with him promised to be more than just sex.
Arthur panted a bit, squeezing his eyes closed with slight impatience. “Alfred, what are you waiting for?”
Alfred looked thoughtfully at Arthur for a moment before his gaze turned to one of smoldering passion . “It’s my prize, can’t I choose how I enjoy it? Why move fast and have it be over, when I can draw it out as long as I want? I want to drink in everything, and I want to make you squirm. For the moment, you belong to me.”
Arthur shuddered at the last statement, barely able to hold back a small moan. “F-For the moment, I’m yours…”
Alfred moved to the man’s neck again, taking his time to move over his shoulders, collarbone and chest. He was in no hurry, yet there was nothing slow or calming about his actions. Every little touch felt like fire to the man pinned to the table, and he wasn’t afraid to show his pleasure. When Arthur liked something, he let Alfred know with loud, pleased moans. Turned out there was nothing the American did that the older man didn’t like.
“Alfred, please…We can…We can bloody well do this slow another time! I want to be fucked. Now.” The Brit said sternly, reaching up to tug on that silly strand of fly-away hair…What was it called again? Oh yeah, Nantucket.
The reaction startled Arthur, who hadn’t expected anything but the acknowledgment and follow-though he wanted. The shocked moan that left the blonde’s mouth and filled Arthur’s mind was neither of the aforementioned. In his shock, and to reconfirm it, Arthur tugged on the strand again.
Alfred moaned softly, hips pressing against Arthur’s in need. The male below him gasped, realizing that Nantucket must be something like Feliciano’s, Lovino’s, or Roderich’s ahoge. Not only did it cause those delicious sounds, but it created friction. He tugged, twirled, and slid his fingers over the strand of hair and watched as the younger male began to moan and writhe in need, grinding their hips together. Arthur moaned softly, tossing his head back with a tug of the strand to force Alfred’s hips to his own again. The strand slipped from Arthur’s fingers as his mouth was captured desperately, and he moved his hips against the American’s once again.
Alfred pulled away from the kiss in just enough time to catch the blonde’s moan, and his eyes glittered with lust and excitement. Teasing Nantucket had done just as the older man had planned, and the idea of taking it slow was no longer an option. Alfred slid down Arthur’s chest and was quick to tease one pert nipple with his mouth and let his fingers do the same to the other. The response was a gasp, a moan, and the pressing upward of the Brit’s chest to the teasing lips, tongue and teeth. He buried his hands in the slightly mussed blonde hair, fingers sliding over Nantucket’s base. He would not allow the idea of slowing down to surface.
Reply
Leave a comment