Re: Romano/Spain - Rimming
anonymous
May 22 2012, 04:05:32 UTC
Let's be blunt. Romano loved Spain's ass.
Loved, loved, loved it.
It wasn't uncommon for the italian to catch himself staring at it, to see fabric paulled taut against the curve of the man's ass, to pray that somehow the fabric would rip and fall apart as he walked, hips swaying so damn temptingly.
And it wasn't uncommon that Romano caught himself fantasizing about the man's ass, to have it spread out for him. Perhaps the cheeks would be red from merciless spankings, induced by some stupid comment Antonio may have mad. (And he does tend to make many.) Or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe instead, they'd be marked with hickeys and bite marks, Antonio tasting the salty skin there, claiming it as his own. This was his-- this glorious work of art, and the man with it, was all his.
And maybe he'd flip Antonio onto his back work his tongue up the man's ass. Drive him mad with want, slicken his interior in preparation for something much larger than just his tongue. He'd slip a finger in, too. He'd slip a finger in to find just that one spot that would make the spainiard scream with pleasure, the muscles in his thighs tense and his cock twitch beautifully. It'd be throbbing by then, wouldn't it? Throbbing and seated heavily on his stomach, maybe even dripping.
He'd continue at this just a bit longer, licking and pushing until Antonio begged him (He'd have to beg and plead, Romano would settle for no less.) to just 'get inside, please, I'm going to explode--'.
Spain was used to this-- he was loose enough that he wouldn't need the extra fingers for preparation, and Romano's saliva would work as a suitable lube. Besides, Lovino knew that he would love the burn as he forced himself inside of him, the body beneath him writhing and gasping. He'd take the older man's cock in his hand and pump it as well, even though he was already clearly so close-- Just to make sure it didn't hurt too bad, no. Romano still loved him, and would feel guilty for making it hurt later.
Then maybe when he was settled in, he'd lift Antonio's thighs onto his shoulders and hike his hips up a little, just a little. Just enough to see more of the man's ass, maybe even slap it again. God, yes. He'd slap it a few times, hearing Spain moan and whine at the pain, the pleasure. It would force Lovino to start moving, to push himself in and out of Antonio, revelling in the way the muscles clenched and relaxed around his cock, greedily taking him in.
But they were both already way too close-- the foreplay had lasted too long. Romano would lose whatever rythm he had set and just thrust erratically, losing himself in the heat of the man's ass. Spain would have come already, gripping at the bed sheets beside him and crying out Lovino's name as he spurted onto his chest and the boy's hand, the milky fluid dripping slowly back down in his chest, some of it even pooling in his naval.
And Lovino would come only moments after him, pushing himself deep inside of Spain and groaning out his name, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through him, his body shaking.
And then that would be that, wouldn't it? They'd finish. Maybe Lovino would put on a show of licking his cum out of Antonio's ass, just for the sheer sake of touching his ass again.
And maybe not-- because that's honestly fairly gross.
That's what would happen.
"If he wasn't such a damn prude." Romano muttered out loud to himself, having lost himself in his fantasies in the living room, his far-too-catholic spanish lover busying himself in the kitchen with bending over to grab whatever pot he needed, his ass proudly on display.
Loved, loved, loved it.
It wasn't uncommon for the italian to catch himself staring at it, to see fabric paulled taut against the curve of the man's ass, to pray that somehow the fabric would rip and fall apart as he walked, hips swaying so damn temptingly.
And it wasn't uncommon that Romano caught himself fantasizing about the man's ass, to have it spread out for him. Perhaps the cheeks would be red from merciless spankings, induced by some stupid comment Antonio may have mad. (And he does tend to make many.)
Or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe instead, they'd be marked with hickeys and bite marks, Antonio tasting the salty skin there, claiming it as his own. This was his-- this glorious work of art, and the man with it, was all his.
And maybe he'd flip Antonio onto his back work his tongue up the man's ass. Drive him mad with want, slicken his interior in preparation for something much larger than just his tongue. He'd slip a finger in, too. He'd slip a finger in to find just that one spot that would make the spainiard scream with pleasure, the muscles in his thighs tense and his cock twitch beautifully. It'd be throbbing by then, wouldn't it? Throbbing and seated heavily on his stomach, maybe even dripping.
He'd continue at this just a bit longer, licking and pushing until Antonio begged him (He'd have to beg and plead, Romano would settle for no less.) to just 'get inside, please, I'm going to explode--'.
Spain was used to this-- he was loose enough that he wouldn't need the extra fingers for preparation, and Romano's saliva would work as a suitable lube. Besides, Lovino knew that he would love the burn as he forced himself inside of him, the body beneath him writhing and gasping. He'd take the older man's cock in his hand and pump it as well, even though he was already clearly so close--
Just to make sure it didn't hurt too bad, no. Romano still loved him, and would feel guilty for making it hurt later.
Then maybe when he was settled in, he'd lift Antonio's thighs onto his shoulders and hike his hips up a little, just a little. Just enough to see more of the man's ass, maybe even slap it again.
God, yes.
He'd slap it a few times, hearing Spain moan and whine at the pain, the pleasure. It would force Lovino to start moving, to push himself in and out of Antonio, revelling in the way the muscles clenched and relaxed around his cock, greedily taking him in.
But they were both already way too close-- the foreplay had lasted too long. Romano would lose whatever rythm he had set and just thrust erratically, losing himself in the heat of the man's ass. Spain would have come already, gripping at the bed sheets beside him and crying out Lovino's name as he spurted onto his chest and the boy's hand, the milky fluid dripping slowly back down in his chest, some of it even pooling in his naval.
And Lovino would come only moments after him, pushing himself deep inside of Spain and groaning out his name, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through him, his body shaking.
And then that would be that, wouldn't it? They'd finish. Maybe Lovino would put on a show of licking his cum out of Antonio's ass, just for the sheer sake of touching his ass again.
And maybe not-- because that's honestly fairly gross.
That's what would happen.
"If he wasn't such a damn prude." Romano muttered out loud to himself, having lost himself in his fantasies in the living room, his far-too-catholic spanish lover busying himself in the kitchen with bending over to grab whatever pot he needed, his ass proudly on display.
"Bastard."
Reply
Leave a comment