Trade Agreements - part 8/?
anonymous
November 14 2010, 19:03:36 UTC
England found himself amazed at how beautiful she was when she came.
She was still shuddering when his hands went to her slacks again and unbuttoned them. Ukraine released a mild protest, something about how she needed time to calm down before he expected her to be ready again, but he just smiled and clucked his tongue reassuringly. “Relax, darling. I’m just trying to make you more comfortable.” Her slacks hit the floor with a soft fwoop and he glanced at her silken panties. “I imagine these are wet by now, hm?” he looped a hand under the elastic of her panties and raised a brow at her. It wasn’t as if he needed to ask-he could very clearly see the wet patch in front-but he needed permission to remove them.
Ukraine nodded slightly, and watched him pull them down before curling in on herself, slightly shy again. All England had seen, before she’d turned over, was a clandestine look of flaxen curls at the bottom of her torso. He’d leave it alone for the moment, though. If she didn’t want to let him see her yet, or if she was cold and curling in upon herself to get warm, he wouldn’t stop her.
“Now…,” sighed England laying down beside her and staring into her red face. “Are you alright?”
“Fine,” Ukraine whispered. In reflection, she stared at a point slightly over his left shoulder before meeting his eyes again and chuckled awkwardly. Blushed and stammered, “You’re uhm…really good with your mouth, Arthur.”
This was something he had to consider this for a moment, before he burst out laughing. “I’ll take that as a compliment, love. Thank you very much.”
“Well…it was certainly meant as a compliment,” Ukraine remarked. “You don’t know how many women would kill for a man who could do that.”
“Oh, well then…,” he sniggered and stood up, taking his shirt off. Ukraine scowled at him and threatened to throw a pillow at him, but he just continued, “Kidding. And please don’t be shy, love. This sort of thing is perfectly natural, or don’t you know?” He’d taught so many nations, and the ways of love was one the things he’d taught them. It wasn’t France’s explanation of it (Something which had traumatized Canada out of ever touching a woman) but he hoped they took what they learned from him and conducted their love lives with it. He’d explained to all of his colonies and protectorates that love was something between two mature people, and was a very private, intimate thing. That it was about making your partner feel good, just as much if not even more than it was to make yourself feel good.
But he’d gone far to make sure they knew it was nothing shameful. It was perfectly natural to want to be physical like that towards someone you truly loved. However, England was aware that not all of his fellow nations had those same ideals. He had to wonder what kind of ideals Ukraine had grown up knowing.
“Well…,” Ukraine sighed, turning over and letting her arms fall away from herself. “I…It’s you, Arthur. I’m not trying to be shy. It just…happens.”
“I know, love,” England replied. A quick jerk of his hands brought the button and zipper of his pants down at the same time, and he pulled them down his legs. “There we go.”
When he crawled back on the bed, he became acutely aware of a torrent of giggling suddenly emanating from Ukraine’s direction. He stared at her, not aware of what it was but humored anyway, and chuckled, “What?”
“The Union Jack?”
Ah, the boxers. He’d really have to be more careful about what he put on in the morning if there was even a chance of other people seeing them. “Well, yes.”
“It’s funny,” Ukraine giggled, shifting her legs slightly to press them together. “Though, I suppose it’s alright. I have a lingerie set that has yellow and blue on it.”
England examined her for a moment-they seemed to be doing a lot of that tonight, just staring at each other-before leaning forward and spreading her knees apart. She squeaked, but more out of surprise than anything and there was no resistance or protest.
ReCaptcha: England abstain. Yes, ReCaptcha. England is SOOOO abstaining right now.
She was still shuddering when his hands went to her slacks again and unbuttoned them. Ukraine released a mild protest, something about how she needed time to calm down before he expected her to be ready again, but he just smiled and clucked his tongue reassuringly. “Relax, darling. I’m just trying to make you more comfortable.” Her slacks hit the floor with a soft fwoop and he glanced at her silken panties. “I imagine these are wet by now, hm?” he looped a hand under the elastic of her panties and raised a brow at her. It wasn’t as if he needed to ask-he could very clearly see the wet patch in front-but he needed permission to remove them.
Ukraine nodded slightly, and watched him pull them down before curling in on herself, slightly shy again. All England had seen, before she’d turned over, was a clandestine look of flaxen curls at the bottom of her torso. He’d leave it alone for the moment, though. If she didn’t want to let him see her yet, or if she was cold and curling in upon herself to get warm, he wouldn’t stop her.
“Now…,” sighed England laying down beside her and staring into her red face. “Are you alright?”
“Fine,” Ukraine whispered. In reflection, she stared at a point slightly over his left shoulder before meeting his eyes again and chuckled awkwardly. Blushed and stammered, “You’re uhm…really good with your mouth, Arthur.”
This was something he had to consider this for a moment, before he burst out laughing. “I’ll take that as a compliment, love. Thank you very much.”
“Well…it was certainly meant as a compliment,” Ukraine remarked. “You don’t know how many women would kill for a man who could do that.”
“Oh, well then…,” he sniggered and stood up, taking his shirt off. Ukraine scowled at him and threatened to throw a pillow at him, but he just continued, “Kidding. And please don’t be shy, love. This sort of thing is perfectly natural, or don’t you know?” He’d taught so many nations, and the ways of love was one the things he’d taught them. It wasn’t France’s explanation of it (Something which had traumatized Canada out of ever touching a woman) but he hoped they took what they learned from him and conducted their love lives with it. He’d explained to all of his colonies and protectorates that love was something between two mature people, and was a very private, intimate thing. That it was about making your partner feel good, just as much if not even more than it was to make yourself feel good.
But he’d gone far to make sure they knew it was nothing shameful. It was perfectly natural to want to be physical like that towards someone you truly loved. However, England was aware that not all of his fellow nations had those same ideals. He had to wonder what kind of ideals Ukraine had grown up knowing.
“Well…,” Ukraine sighed, turning over and letting her arms fall away from herself. “I…It’s you, Arthur. I’m not trying to be shy. It just…happens.”
“I know, love,” England replied. A quick jerk of his hands brought the button and zipper of his pants down at the same time, and he pulled them down his legs. “There we go.”
When he crawled back on the bed, he became acutely aware of a torrent of giggling suddenly emanating from Ukraine’s direction. He stared at her, not aware of what it was but humored anyway, and chuckled, “What?”
“The Union Jack?”
Ah, the boxers. He’d really have to be more careful about what he put on in the morning if there was even a chance of other people seeing them. “Well, yes.”
“It’s funny,” Ukraine giggled, shifting her legs slightly to press them together. “Though, I suppose it’s alright. I have a lingerie set that has yellow and blue on it.”
England examined her for a moment-they seemed to be doing a lot of that tonight, just staring at each other-before leaning forward and spreading her knees apart. She squeaked, but more out of surprise than anything and there was no resistance or protest.
ReCaptcha: England abstain. Yes, ReCaptcha. England is SOOOO abstaining right now.
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