The Other Side 3c/3
anonymous
January 5 2011, 06:26:25 UTC
The angle of their heads changed slightly as they parted their lips for each other. England licked his dry lips, wondering why the hell something as simple as a kiss could be turning him on. His eyes dropped to the laps of the kissing duo, and... yes. America was turned on as well.
“Maybe we should change spots,” France mused, smoothing a hand along the bedspread he was sitting on. “Beds are easier for making love than a couple chairs.”
“That didn't stop you that one time,” England said.
The two couples (or whatever) changed places. France was enjoying the tame yet strangely erotic show as well-it was pretty obvious when his robe fell open as he sat back down. They instructed Russia and America to pick up where they left off, and they scooted together on the bed and started kissing again. As France directed, Russia (gently) pushed America down toward the pillows, following him down, not breaking the kiss.
“Excellent,” France said in a husky voice. “You're doing great. Take each other's shirts off. Nicely. No yanking or ripping.”
They paused in their kissing to deal with that. By some miracle, all buttons remained intact as the shirts were removed and tossed aside. England's fingers twitched with a deep-seated urge to pick up after America.
“Ah... perfect.” France was practically purring. “Yes, just like that. There is no need to keep the kissing centered solely on the lips. You have necks and chests and nipples and...” His hand fell to his bared lap.
“You're sure enjoying this,” America said with a chuckle from beneath Russia. “We aren't even doing anything yet!”
“You're enjoying it, too~” Russia said, smirk audible.
“Well I'm the one being kissed. It's... nice.”
“Hmm...”
“Come on, do what he said, com-”
“No insults,” England muttered.
“Oh, right. Sorry!”
Russia moved his mouth, trailing kisses down America's jaw, down his throat. He eyed one of America's nipples with an almost hungry look, and England had an idea he was really wanting to bite it. But Russia played by the rules and gently sucked on it instead, earning a soft gasp from the man beneath him.
“Yes...” France said. “Oh my, yes.” Both his and England's eyes fell on Russia's butt, hovering in the air as he knelt over America, and they both had the same idea at once. “Pants off.”
“Already?” America said. “You don't believe in foreplay, do you.”
“Since when did you believe in foreplay?” England sniffed.
“You can do foreplay while naked,” France said with a shrug. “Pants off. No wait!” He stood, not bothering to close his robe. “I'll help!”
“That is not necessary...” Russia tried to scoot away from the French invasion, but when France decided to strip something, it was hard to stop him. He wiggled the pants down, underwear and all, revealing the nicely rounded Russian ass for England to sit back and enjoy the sight of.
Then France reached for the waistband of America's pants, and Russia slapped his hand away. “Yow! What was that for?”
“You're done here.” Russia gripped America's pants himself, and slid them down.
“Oh-ho. So that's how it is.” Grinning in spite of his loss, France returned to his seat to watch the now-naked duo.
“It is like nothing.”
“What now, sensei?” America asked.
And with France directing them, America and Russia continued their foreplay, kissing and licking each other, gently rubbing their cocks together (which everyone in the room seemed to enjoy), and England and France felt themselves up as they watched the show.
“Who's going to top?” France asked. “Lube's on the nightstand.”
Predictably, two hands shot out to grab the tube, and two sets of lust-filled eyes narrowed.
“Wait wait!” France said. “Do not lose the moment! Russie, you're physically on top right now, so you can be top this time.”
“That's not fair!” America said. “You told him to make out on top of me.”
“Well you just look so hot on your back. Next time you can switch.”
“Next time?” more than one voice said.
“Don't lose the moment!! Keep going. Get the lube, man!”
Russia triumphantly snatched the tube up, smirking at America's pouty expression.
“Don't whine, lad,” England said. “Won't it be nice to be shagged without being all torn up?”
“Maybe we should change spots,” France mused, smoothing a hand along the bedspread he was sitting on. “Beds are easier for making love than a couple chairs.”
“That didn't stop you that one time,” England said.
The two couples (or whatever) changed places. France was enjoying the tame yet strangely erotic show as well-it was pretty obvious when his robe fell open as he sat back down. They instructed Russia and America to pick up where they left off, and they scooted together on the bed and started kissing again. As France directed, Russia (gently) pushed America down toward the pillows, following him down, not breaking the kiss.
“Excellent,” France said in a husky voice. “You're doing great. Take each other's shirts off. Nicely. No yanking or ripping.”
They paused in their kissing to deal with that. By some miracle, all buttons remained intact as the shirts were removed and tossed aside. England's fingers twitched with a deep-seated urge to pick up after America.
“Ah... perfect.” France was practically purring. “Yes, just like that. There is no need to keep the kissing centered solely on the lips. You have necks and chests and nipples and...” His hand fell to his bared lap.
“You're sure enjoying this,” America said with a chuckle from beneath Russia. “We aren't even doing anything yet!”
“You're enjoying it, too~” Russia said, smirk audible.
“Well I'm the one being kissed. It's... nice.”
“Hmm...”
“Come on, do what he said, com-”
“No insults,” England muttered.
“Oh, right. Sorry!”
Russia moved his mouth, trailing kisses down America's jaw, down his throat. He eyed one of America's nipples with an almost hungry look, and England had an idea he was really wanting to bite it. But Russia played by the rules and gently sucked on it instead, earning a soft gasp from the man beneath him.
“Yes...” France said. “Oh my, yes.” Both his and England's eyes fell on Russia's butt, hovering in the air as he knelt over America, and they both had the same idea at once. “Pants off.”
“Already?” America said. “You don't believe in foreplay, do you.”
“Since when did you believe in foreplay?” England sniffed.
“You can do foreplay while naked,” France said with a shrug. “Pants off. No wait!” He stood, not bothering to close his robe. “I'll help!”
“That is not necessary...” Russia tried to scoot away from the French invasion, but when France decided to strip something, it was hard to stop him. He wiggled the pants down, underwear and all, revealing the nicely rounded Russian ass for England to sit back and enjoy the sight of.
Then France reached for the waistband of America's pants, and Russia slapped his hand away. “Yow! What was that for?”
“You're done here.” Russia gripped America's pants himself, and slid them down.
“Oh-ho. So that's how it is.” Grinning in spite of his loss, France returned to his seat to watch the now-naked duo.
“It is like nothing.”
“What now, sensei?” America asked.
And with France directing them, America and Russia continued their foreplay, kissing and licking each other, gently rubbing their cocks together (which everyone in the room seemed to enjoy), and England and France felt themselves up as they watched the show.
“Who's going to top?” France asked. “Lube's on the nightstand.”
Predictably, two hands shot out to grab the tube, and two sets of lust-filled eyes narrowed.
“Wait wait!” France said. “Do not lose the moment! Russie, you're physically on top right now, so you can be top this time.”
“That's not fair!” America said. “You told him to make out on top of me.”
“Well you just look so hot on your back. Next time you can switch.”
“Next time?” more than one voice said.
“Don't lose the moment!! Keep going. Get the lube, man!”
Russia triumphantly snatched the tube up, smirking at America's pouty expression.
“Don't whine, lad,” England said. “Won't it be nice to be shagged without being all torn up?”
“I guess...”
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