[Part 7] Be My Anchor, Be My Moor (US/UK) [6/8]
anonymous
April 21 2011, 05:48:16 UTC
America took off the unused condom, throwing it towards the pile of plastic rope cases, but climbed away before England could press forward and put his mouth to it. It was getting slightly painful, but it was totally worth it to see England’s face go panicked and desperate. He put two fingers over his mouth before he could draw breath to object, smiling sweetly at him, before falling back to dig in the bag. America let out a small “Ah-ha!” of triumph and pushed himself back up, holding the one package of thinner lightweight rope England had added into the mix. He sliced open the package with the ever-useful pocketknife and untwisted the ties holding the rope in its loops, shamelessly reveling in England’s needy whines and hip thrusts.
He ran his nails up England’s legs, feet to knees and back down. “What do ya say, keep your legs free?” he asked lightly, drumming his fingers into his kneecaps.
“Not in hell- fucking God, if you quit on me now-”
America laughed to hide his slight surprise, tracing light circles around one of England’s knees as he considered where to put them. To buy himself some time, he wrapped his hand around England’s half-hard cock, pumping it slowly to the soundtrack of his evergrowing moans. He really wanted England’s mouth - he watched it, fallen open, sloppy, red, and he wanted his cock in it - but England wanted his legs bound.
Well, he could work with that.
He discarded the new rope for one of the thicker black ones, sliding England’s bent legs together in front of him hard enough to hear the snap of flesh on flesh. He quickly tied the rope around his ankles, knotting it before winding it up around his legs as far as they would go. When he ran out of rope halfway up his thighs, he tied the end round several of the top loops before sliding England back, forcing him to a seated position against the headboard and the pillows caught behind him. America threw them off the bed and crawled into England’s lap, cupping his face in both hands and kissing him fiercely. England moaned and kissed back as much as he could, bent legs pushing into America’s back to try and get him as close as possible.
America pulled away forcefully, gripping England’s face tightly and staring into his dilated and watering eyes. “Arthur, I’m gonna tie you up tighter’n a Christmas present in July, and there ain’t nothin’ you can do ‘bout it,” he told him, tongue tripping over his redneck drawl. England moaned, sinking into the hands on his face and eyes fluttering closed.
“Yes,” he sighed, letting the word draw out in his slow exhale.
America shook him fiercely, just once; his eyes snapped open as America ordered, “Don’t you close your eyes on me! You wanted this, so do’s I say’n nothin’ else!” England nodded, keeping his eyes wide and trained on America. He smiled. “See, now that ain’t so hard.” He kissed him quickly, then rose to his knees, rotating the rope around England’s neck so the knot was at the front and his cock filled up England’s vision. “Now suck, darlin’.”
He ran his nails up England’s legs, feet to knees and back down. “What do ya say, keep your legs free?” he asked lightly, drumming his fingers into his kneecaps.
“Not in hell- fucking God, if you quit on me now-”
America laughed to hide his slight surprise, tracing light circles around one of England’s knees as he considered where to put them. To buy himself some time, he wrapped his hand around England’s half-hard cock, pumping it slowly to the soundtrack of his evergrowing moans. He really wanted England’s mouth - he watched it, fallen open, sloppy, red, and he wanted his cock in it - but England wanted his legs bound.
Well, he could work with that.
He discarded the new rope for one of the thicker black ones, sliding England’s bent legs together in front of him hard enough to hear the snap of flesh on flesh. He quickly tied the rope around his ankles, knotting it before winding it up around his legs as far as they would go. When he ran out of rope halfway up his thighs, he tied the end round several of the top loops before sliding England back, forcing him to a seated position against the headboard and the pillows caught behind him. America threw them off the bed and crawled into England’s lap, cupping his face in both hands and kissing him fiercely. England moaned and kissed back as much as he could, bent legs pushing into America’s back to try and get him as close as possible.
America pulled away forcefully, gripping England’s face tightly and staring into his dilated and watering eyes. “Arthur, I’m gonna tie you up tighter’n a Christmas present in July, and there ain’t nothin’ you can do ‘bout it,” he told him, tongue tripping over his redneck drawl. England moaned, sinking into the hands on his face and eyes fluttering closed.
“Yes,” he sighed, letting the word draw out in his slow exhale.
America shook him fiercely, just once; his eyes snapped open as America ordered, “Don’t you close your eyes on me! You wanted this, so do’s I say’n nothin’ else!” England nodded, keeping his eyes wide and trained on America. He smiled. “See, now that ain’t so hard.” He kissed him quickly, then rose to his knees, rotating the rope around England’s neck so the knot was at the front and his cock filled up England’s vision. “Now suck, darlin’.”
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