Alfred's Little Secret (13/?)
anonymous
July 14 2011, 03:48:37 UTC
The way he looked at America, and America looked back, he knew what was about to happen and the younger closed his eyes again, relaxing his throat and welcoming England. His hold on Alfred’s hair tightened a bit and he started to move again. He didn’t go easy this time, his hips rocking back and forth quickly, fucking that delicious mouth that was opened so willingly for him, teeth out of the way, tongue still working and he was still trying to suck. He groaned, and grabbed America’s head with both hands and thrust deeper, faster, and he shifted a bit, making his cock hit the back of America’s mouth, and instead of coming back, he slid in deeper, into his throat, until the boy’s nose was pressed against his pelvis, on his light pubic hair. He didn’t gag. He didn’t choke. Not yet, England thought, malicious. America’s blue, teary eyes opened when he noticed England was not moving and wouldn’t move either, rather just buried deep on his throat, and as much as he could stand and take it, it was blocking out his air and he just wasn’t waiting for that. He was wide-eyed, staring up at England, silently pleading, asking him to move, but England didn’t. And then he started to choke, trying to breathe but the thick cock was on the way of his sweet air.
A tear slid down his face and he started to squirm, choking more hard as he felt the thick member stretch his throat even when he didn’t want to take it anymore, the lack of new oxygen on his lungs- and England finally moved back. He coughed loudly as he gasped for air. “Sorry.” The older man said simply, not really feeling that sorry, and his cock was already against America’s lips again, and the younger nation obediently opened for him even if he was almost choked by the man, and let him mouthfuck him as much as he wanted.
America moaned again, and, had been already holding back for a while, England finally came, also moaning, and he felt America’s throat tensing as he swallowed it all, and the boy’s hand went to his cock, pumping him, only the cockhead on his mouth now, milking him dry and swallowing eagerly every drop of the salty, thick cum, looking up at England with half-lidded eyes. England was also with eyes barely opened, panting lightly and moaning shakily, still moving shallowly as America rode out his orgasm, swallowing everything. He wanted more of that mouth, but he had other plans, so he pulled away at least.
America’s face was much more flushed, and England at first thought it was because of the rough treatment, but when he looked behind him to America’s pants, wanting to get rid of them, he saw clearly that they were too wet. He looked back at America, his grin was even scaring the boy. He moved to between the younger’s legs and harshly removed his pants, throwing them on the floor along with the other clothes and the mess on his underwear and the softening cock proved what he has been thinking. America had come at some point during the oral. Slut.
“When?” England asked, that predatory stare back to his eyes as he kissed America’s belly.
America choked on his breath. “When y-you...” He stammered a bit, and gave a sharp, shaky inhale. “When you choked me.” He said, his lips beautifully swollen and red. He didn’t even need to touch his cock to reach his peak. He made a small ‘nngh’ noise when his belly was being kissed again. He was exhausted. But he knew it wasn’t over.
“Haha, wow.” England’s hands started to run by the sides of America’s body, as he kissed his belly a few more times, then opened his mouth to bite the fat there, moving down, kissing his groin. “You know, America, don’t sleep, I’m still going to fuck you.” And he heard the boy whimper, but not exactly complaining or denying. “And you are going to love it. You know why?” Another whimper, he chuckled for the billionth time. “Because you are such a fucking slut. Apparently, start to lactate wasn’t just painful and embarrassing, huh? All of this disgusting fat you have here, you also like it when I touch you here, no? You get off on it. Slut.”
Alfred's Little Secret (14/?)
anonymous
July 14 2011, 03:53:19 UTC
America turned his head, then looked at the mess on his chest and torso. He no longer felt pain on his chest, but he knew he could still drip milk if England started to touch him like that again, and he sort of wanted that. Fuck, he was really a slut. Every time he jerked off, he felt the need to squeeze his nipples, to make the milk slip out of him. It was embarrassing and painful, yes, but it was somehow so goddamn arousing, it was so twisted on his mind. “That’s okay, my boy.” He kissed the softened cock of his lover, feeling him shiver. “I won’t stop making it come out. I won’t let you feel pain again.” America was completely mortified by now. England’s words were hitting his ears and he had to curl his toes and grab the bed sheets again. He didn’t even know why, but he felt the necessity. It was humiliating. And he was enjoying it so much. “And I’m really upset that you took so much time to tell me, though. Don’t you trust me, boy?” Another kiss there.
“Sorry!” He cried out. “I was afraid it would... I don’t know, scare you!”
“No, love. I think it’s okay.” Yet another kiss, then he opened his mouth slightly, covering the base, mouthing it gently. America’s moan-whimper was high-pitched. “Where do you keep the lube?” It wasn’t the first time they did it on America’s house, but the boy would change its place randomly. England believed it was because he will use it to finger himself when alone, and got lazy or simply forgot to bring it back to the bedside table.
“It’s on the bathroom. Inside the shower, on the soap dish.” He said, and England almost snorted. For sure the boy has been fingering himself, it was even funny how obvious America was.
“Okay, stay right here.” He asked and stood up, walking to the bathroom attached to America’s room.
America just watched as the man left him alone on his bed, opened the door of his bathroom and disappeared inside it. The boy sighed, staring at the ceiling. All of this was surreal. England found out about this little... antic of his body but it didn’t scare him away. Rather, he took care of it. Another sigh and he closed his eyes, everything that just happened passing though his mind again and he couldn’t repress a smirk. The touching, the wonderful mouth on his nipples, the cock on his throat, choking him-
He looked down to see England wouldn’t have too much work bringing his erection back. Damn, he was really a slut. A fat, milk-leaking slut, he thought with a frown. His mind had already shut down for this, and he just accepted it. And his England was just so nice, still staying by his side even if he was so disgusting (as the man himself pointed out).
His hands wandered on his body, stopping at his chest, and he started to massage, feeling how soft and good to the touch it was again. The pain was gone, too, just like the pressure. He felt so, so much better. And now England knew, they would find a way to fix this. Together. And he would be in shape for his boyfriend again, and generally just a normal, hopefully attractive man. All to please England, he would do it for him.
Alfred's Little Secret (15/?)
anonymous
July 14 2011, 18:07:35 UTC
dasiodasd i almost forgot about this oh god. ---
“Ah, ah, ah.” He heard and turned his head, to where England was coming out his bathroom. “No touching yourself.” He climbed on the bed again, throwing the lube on the side they weren’t using.
“Ah, no.” America explained, his eyes tired and voice hoarse. “I was just feeling my chest. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” He paused a bit, breathing deeply. “Thank you.”
Arthur smiled at his boy, already between his legs again, and leaned down to kiss him on the lips quickly. “You’re welcome. It’s a pleasure, actually.”
Before he could sit back, America’s powerful arms were around his neck, trapping him there, and the American forced him down a bit, until their lips were together again. This time he was the one licking England’s lower lip, nibbling, asking for passage, which the older man happily gave, humming into the somewhat gently, but still pleasant and breathtaking kiss.
America was the one who broke the contact, too, pecking England’s lips a few times before finally releasing him, his arms falling limp on his sides one more time. “Love you.” He said, and added a mentally a thanks for loving me. And England at first was confused, but then smiled.
“Love you too, poppet.” And he didn’t even notice when he got lost on those blue eyes, which were staring up at him so lovingly, and they probably spent minutes holding each other’s gaze, but then England remembered what he should be doing. “Well, America, I want you to turn around, okay?” And America did so, lying with his stomach down, being watched by fierce green eyes. “Stand on your knees and hands, please.” And be obeyed, his beautiful, delicious round ass all exposed to England and England only. He felt the grin that was stretching his lips. “Good boy. Such a good boy you are, America.” He said, his hands landing on the top of America’s ass, caressing down, to where ass met thigh. He shifted a bit, sitting with his crossed legs, and grabbed both buttocks. “Now, spread your legs a bit for me, will you?” And obviously America did, as the good cheap whore he was.
England spread his asscheeks apart, seeing the puckered, tight, pink hole there. He licked his lips. It was twitching, as the boy’s body couldn’t decide whether to relax or not. But he wouldn’t soothe him this time. Not when he was licking his lips and then burying his face on the cleft of his ass.
America cried out, his whole body jerking forwards, avoiding the touch, trying to run away from it because that felt so good and he was afraid he would lose it again. But England was persistent, bringing his face closer again, the way he was grabbing America’s asscheeks telling him should stop moving like that, so he stopped. He sighed, a shaky exhale, and whimpered. “Ho-Holy shit...”
England chuckled and stuck his tongue out, letting it touch America’s entrance, and the boy tensed up abruptly.
America groaned, fighting to don’t move away from the touch again or close his legs. His head fell down, as his whimpers filled the room. He felt the wet, skilled muscle licking over his anus, teasing each nerve ending there, making more and louder moans erupt from the back his throat. By the time England started circling his twitching entrance, he was shivering non-stop, sweat forming a thin layer on his skin, his cock hardening between his legs.
Then he yelled. Loudly, shakily, trembling. His body jerked again and his limbs twitched and spasmed, and he looked down at England, from between his legs, feeling his tongue inside-
And going deeper. Fuck, deeper. Then moving out, then back in. Thrusting, somehow. Then resumed back to circling. He was quivering, shouting every time he felt the wetness moving on him, panting like a dog. Like a slut. And when England closed his mouth around his opening and sucked, he had to support himself on his arms, his hand feeling way too weak to keep him up. His body trembled violently with each suck, with every time the tongue was plugged on his ass, and he was salivating excessively, the stick thing clinging to the corner of his mouth and chin. He knew he could come by only being rimmed, England had done that before, and he was afraid that if he kept going he would-
Alfred's Little Secret (16/?)
anonymous
July 14 2011, 18:15:36 UTC
“Wah, look at how hard you are already, love.” He said, pulling away, to America immense relief (and somehow disappoint, too). His finger traced a line from his wet asshole to his balls, then slapping his heavy erection between his legs lightly. “But that’s okay, I’m not far behind.”
America dropped his head again, looking at England between his legs. He could notice his erection resting on his lap, but it was a bit... Foggy. Oh, his glasses, he had to take them off. “E-England.” He called softly, now looking at his face from his shoulder. “Just get on with it.” And even if he had almost no more dignity at the moment, he tried to keep his voice neutral, not quite begging. England noticed that.
“Oh no, my dear.” He said, sweet tone fake. “I still have to prepare you.”
“Fuck- No!” America’s voice was louder, as his head was hanging down again, eyes shut. “I don’t need it. Just do it already.”
England pondered, looking at the bigger, shaking frame of his boyfriend. He looked irresistible when helpless, his cock twitching between his wonderful, plump legs. He grabbed the lube and opened it, coating himself, pumping his own length a few times to make sure he was very slick, since he’s be entering with no preparation. He really thought he should prepare him first, since they didn’t do it for months, but when he asked like that, how could he deny? He put himself on his knees, one of his hands on the base of his cock, the other one keeping America’s buttocks apart. The boy shivered when felt the cockhead against his gaping, waiting entrance... But it was just that. England didn’t move, so he looked over his shoulder again, England had a simple smirk and half-lidded green eyes. America was confused, and tried to push his body back to impale himself, thinking that’s what England wanted, but when calloused hands kept him on place, a long whimper filled the room. What the fuck, now?
“You don’t seem too interested on it, America. Maybe I’ll just stay here until I can see if you really want it.”
The words made him choke- Of course he fucking wanted it. “Englaaaand,” He whined, for he didn’t know what else he could do. He didn’t have energy to discuss, he just wanted to be fucked at cone and get over with it. “please, no more teasing!” His voice went higher as he tried to fuck himself on England’s throbbing dick again, and the other seemed to have fun stopping him. He looked over his shoulder again, frustration mixing with all the other awful feelings. “What do you want me to do?!” Now, that was a begging tone.
England pulled again, not letting America get what he wanted yet, and sat back on the bed, then laid down, sprawled, holding his cock in a rather inviting way. “Suit yourself.”
America stared at him for a while, a bit surprised, his face confused. As he takes a while to move, England starts to pump his cock by himself. Lazily, slowly, inciting America to just go if he wanted it and so he did. He climbed on top of the older man, holding the base of his cock, slapping the other’s hand off there.
England, looking up smugly at the boy with rather flushed cheeks, swollen lips and moisten eyes, smirked pleased, faking a hurt sound as his hand was slapped away and just let America do all the work. America, once more closing his eyes, breathed deeply. He could feel the slickness on England’s dick and, without full control of his own body, almost slammed his hips down, impaling himself all at once on his lover’s meaty cock. His eyes snapped open, widely, as a loud, pained cry erupted from his sore and abused throat, filling the room, letting England more than pleased as he sighed quietly in response.
Alfred's Little Secret (17/?)
anonymous
July 14 2011, 18:25:57 UTC
America’s ass was flush against England’s hips, the pain obviously almost overwhelming, but he could take it. It was amazing, to feel something fill him up so well as that cock did, making him feel complete, happy for having the man he loved inside him, so close, so close to him. He wished he could get closer. He noticed England didn’t say a word, didn’t tell him to just move already, git. And he felt relieved, as he waited for his muscles to stretch around and adjust to the considerable extra bulk there, even if it was actually screaming at America to just get rid of it. Because even if he thought that that was where England’s cock belonged, deep within him, his trembling, sore body didn’t think so, and was doing all it could to remove the invader: twitching, clenching. All effort for nothing, but he earned some noises from England, so it was worth it. Finally, when he gathered all the strength he needed on his legs and hips, he moved up, making the cock almost slip out from his abused hole, then impaling himself back again, sheltering England’s shaft into his body, moaning, needing it as he needed air.
England was grunting with each movement, thrusting up, eager to be all inside of Alfred’s warm, wet tightness again, and seeing his naked, big frame start to move in a steady (but still slow) pace was more-than-pleasant. His tummy jiggled as he moved, his chubby, erect cock between the beautiful thighs also bouncing lightly with his thrusts. His face was the most beautiful of all, contorting and blushing with a deep shade of red as he rode the Brit the best he could, moaning lowly and letting a bunch of soft noises that could have been England’s name along with another things (EnglandEnglandArthurEnglandArtieloveyousomuch). His knees were buried on the mattress, and he only moved his hips, both hands on England’s torso.
“America, please, would you move faster?” He asked, his hands flying to the boys large hips, squeezing his love handles lightly. “Or are you useless at this, too?” He teased, and America choked.
Suddenly, he started to quicken his pace. It was awkward, but it was beautiful. That young, pretty boy desperately trying to pleasure him, barely letting his hands guide him. But it was good, America’s erratic pace. It was wonderful, especially when he started to thrust with more power back and-
“A-AH!” America screamed, and started to positively bounce on top of England, making the cock hit and brush against his prostrate every time. He tried to reach down to pump himself, England didn’t let him, he whined and squirmed and kept bouncing desperately since it was the only thing he could do to reach his peak.
“You’ll come by just getting fucked.” And it wasn’t a question. The boy was riding him hard, making justice to how he loved to self-proclaim himself a cowboy, and his body was sweating. He was getting tired, the fat on his body not letting him keep going for so long and his pace slowed down again even if he didn’t want to, he was panting so much and almost sobbed, because he wanted it harder and faster-
Faster than a blink of eyes, he was being thrown back on the bed, both his legs over England’s shoulders as the man impatiently started to thrust into him. “Fuck, America, even this I have to do for you? You’re so fat you can’t even stand sex anymore.” He said, his voice with a fake tone of disgust, and he heard America choke and sob again; success. His knees lifted from the bed a bit, for America was taller and bigger and he wanted to bury himself deep, but he was still holing tight onto those thighs, those beautiful legs, and thrusting harder and harder, ramming into the younger’s hole, their bodies rocking back and forth, bringing the bed together, making the wood whine loudly and the room was so filled with the smell and sounds of sex, moans, grunts and the loud noise of skin slapping forcefully against skin, and suddenly America was screaming on the top of his lungs again and the only thing the boy was capable to say after the scream was “fuckmefuckme”, like a mantra, getting louder and louder, clenching around England and-
Alfred's Little Secret (17/?)
anonymous
July 14 2011, 18:32:24 UTC
With a unison, loud, strangled cry, they were coming hard; America letting it shot on his body, his body spasming and jerking and clenching around England, who, unable to keep moving through his orgasm, buried himself deeply into that warm body, leaving his seed there, deep within America, his head spinning as he grunted.
He fell on top of America, both of them panting, gasping for air, trying to catch their breaths. England didn’t want to pull out yet. All he had during these three months they didn’t fuck was his hand (occasionally America’s mouth, too), and he felt the need to stay inside and make all the time they lost worth it. Even though, it was indeed worth it. He didn’t remember the last time he had such good shag.
After a few minutes, when their chests started to rise and fall in a slow pace, and, with a groan from both parts, England pulled his softening cock out, some of his semen following, soiling the sheets. He flipped on the bed, lying besides America, head on the soft chest, and he felt soothed by the still quick heartbeat of his boy.
He didn’t look at the younger’s face, and silence took over. Sleep, was what England thought about at first, and he let his mind drift away to unconsciousness, but before he managed to indeed fall asleep, America’s voice, low and hoarse and still a bit shaky, was caught by his ear. “Do you really think I’m a slut?” He asked, and England chuckled at the hint of sobbing and tears on that voice.
“No. Go sleep.” Of course, he knew how much America enjoyed having his ass fucked by him, but he wasn’t quite a whore, he was only having his fun, missing the last time he experienced having such power and influence over somebody, but America’s body was still tense, and he frowned, a bit out of patience. “I was only teasing you, boy. Seriously.”
America decided to accept that, as his body relaxed, even if when he felt the cum slipping out of his abused, still stretched hole, but he was used to the feeling by now, just flinched a bit. He couldn’t sleep, though, when his stomach was being so loud, warning him that if he didn’t get food soon- “I’m hungry. Go order food for me, please?”
And the older man grinned, even if America couldn’t see, his voice as composed as always, contrasting with the inner excitement to watch America stuff his face with food and that lovely belly of his grow a bit more as he filled himself up. He knew that doesn’t matter how much food he ordered, America wouldn’t let any of it go to waste. “Sure, love. I will.”
---- well, this is 'the end'. more or less, as you see on the title, there's still a small part that is like an epilogue, in where i decided to add the 'breeding multiples' part of the request. so well, you can stop here and ignore that if you want. yaaaaaay.
And England Has a Secret, too (19a/19)
anonymous
July 14 2011, 19:57:59 UTC
oh, above was supposed to be (18/?). and here is it. If you don't like OOCness, England being an extreme asshole, America being completely hopeless and way too oblivious like a teenager in love, and possibly dark-ish themes, do ignore this. o_o ---
He was walking out of the commercial building, walking towards America’s car, both his hands with something he bought especially for his lover.
He opened the door, he would be driving, since America’s belly wouldn’t let him do that comfortably.
“So?” His pregnant boyfriend asked, hands protectively over his swollen, perfectly round and firm stomach. He didn’t have any clothes that fitted him well by now so his shirt was folded over his abdomen, pants low on his hips, his beloved jacket thrown over his shoulder to keep him warm.
England just smiled at him. No one knew how that had happened, how America managed to get pregnant, something that not even female nations could do. Everyone was shocked, used of their technology, but nothing, they have no clue on how. Just him. Oh, just England knew how evil his little, apparently docile fairies could (and were supposed to) be. So, they decided to pull this small prank on America, much to England’s pleasure. He knew he also could undo that, could force the fairies to make that disappear, but not now, he still had a few months. America had been desperate, he didn’t have idea where exactly those children (yes, children, because he was waiting twins) where exactly on his tummy, and he definitely didn’t know how he would give... Give birth to them. England suggested they’d just figure it out, that he could get a C-section or something. That there was nothing to worry about - he had control over that after all. America didn’t need to know, but he did. He could choose when he wanted the children to born, if so at all. He knew America would feel sad if the babies died, but maybe he just didn’t want to spare their lives, and his fairies were also terrible enough to accomplish his little selfish wish.
“So I bought you a present.” He said, handing the flat, brown box he had on his hands to America, and hid the small bottle he also had, ripping the label that said ‘prolactin hormone’ and handed it to America, too. “And here, your pills.”
“Oh, thanks!” He said, accepting both things, but any kind of movement has been hard to do because of the size his belly has been growing. “But really, they haven’t been so useful. I’m still, eh, you know.”
Yes, America was still lactating. He knew very well. England managed a smile, kissing the boy’s face. “But don’t give up, okay?” His voice was small and soothing, as his fingertips started to run down America’s stomach, and he felt the boy squirming lightly - he knew how sensitive he had gotten there.
“O-Okay.” He said, a bit insecure, and soon his lover’s lips were covering his, in a quick, lovingly kiss. Ah, he loved that boy so much, so much. And he was so, so beautiful, England wanted to keep him in a glass so no one else would be able to reach him. He would kiss America’s belly tonight, kiss and lick and nibble and hear the younger moan and hiss, he couldn’t wait. He loved how he needed England’s help to do anything, he loved how firm, but still soft because of the layers of fat under his skin, his belly was, he loved the gentle, but noticiable arch on his back. Loved watching him touching himself there, feeling the small humans inside of him kicking. And loved, most of all, how easily America got embarrassed because of that, how easily he’d cry and how much he felt needy of a compliment, a word of encouragement. How much he needed England. How big and round he was. It was just perfect.
And England Has a Secret, too (19b/19)
anonymous
July 14 2011, 20:06:42 UTC
He kissed his face one more time, over his closed eyelids, and then concentrated on starting and driving the car, so he wouldn’t start to drive on the wrong side of the road. America opened the box, and he really didn’t expect what he saw.
It was a dress. Not a simple dress. A white, short, depraved wedding dress. With gloves and a long veil and all. Also a pair of white fishnets. He was quite speechless, while England was driving as if nothing was wrong.
“I-”
“You’ll be wearing it for me tonight.” Again, not a question.
“Uh. Okay I... Guess.” What more could he say? He could give the dress a shot, whatever England’s reasons are. Well, at least, England would be happy, he supposed. He tried to comfort himself with it. He just hoped England remembered his size had to be kind of really big, since the thing full of laces and bows was awfully small.
He was also reminded to don’t forget to take his pills, and even if he was a still a bit concerned about it just not going to work anyway, he would do anyway. Because it was England asking and he trusted and loved England. His hand rested on his lover’s thigh gently, as they made their way to McDonald’s for a quick snack.
--- the end! hooray. This was my first fill and I'm really nervous, but I had... fun writing this, i think. i'll probably stick to the art fills from now on though haha... also look at me shoving my silly wedding dress fetish on fanfics, ugh. i'm sorry for the big fail and hopefully someone can enjoy this. :3
Re: And England Has a Secret, too (19b/19)
anonymous
July 14 2011, 23:34:45 UTC
I don't have a lactation kink. I don't have a chub kink. I was just bored and hadn't read any USUK in ages. But anon, this is the most sexy thing I've read on the 'meme in awhile and it will be a horrible crime against porn if you never wrote again. This was so hot and I want there to be more pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease. Go find more porn to write so I can fawn over you. ;-;
Re: Alfred's Little Secret (17/?)
anonymous
July 14 2011, 23:43:57 UTC
I cannot tell you how hot this fill is. You hit so many of the lesser used kinks that I can't even tell you how many you hit perfectly. The strangulation during the blowjob. Turkey slapping. Humiliation. Asshole!England. Asshole!England topping. lkjgfdsaaaaaa
You had several typos here and there that sitting back for a day or so and reading over again would have caught, but they were few enough that they didn't detract from the story.
Re: Alfred's Little Secret (16/?)
anonymous
July 14 2011, 18:40:38 UTC
Most fans believe that America has no gag reflex XDD Actually its strange not to run into a story where there is oral and that isn't mentioned...
"...then slapping his heavy erection between his legs lightly..." AND he slapped his cock on America's face? Woah very VERY nice. I love cock slapping. You win internetz for that.
I CAN NOT believe you called this shit. This was not was well written it was hot as heck <3 you should mention how many updates it has in the fill list o=o Its rare to see that many updates.
Though despite how hot it is I can't help but feel sorry for America. . .Actually this reminds me of a dounji about how England was dreaming of America being all weepy and wanting to make him cry so he pinched his cheeks once he woke up....lol XDD
aaah, so I think i'm just not lucky enough to run into these stories. T_T it's one of my biggest kinks.
and ah, I... should? I don't know, i don't feel too comfortable doing things here on the kink meme because i'll probably do it wrong, so I think I just won't, if it's okay. ;_;' and i know this doujin i think, i love it. <3
A tear slid down his face and he started to squirm, choking more hard as he felt the thick member stretch his throat even when he didn’t want to take it anymore, the lack of new oxygen on his lungs- and England finally moved back. He coughed loudly as he gasped for air. “Sorry.” The older man said simply, not really feeling that sorry, and his cock was already against America’s lips again, and the younger nation obediently opened for him even if he was almost choked by the man, and let him mouthfuck him as much as he wanted.
America moaned again, and, had been already holding back for a while, England finally came, also moaning, and he felt America’s throat tensing as he swallowed it all, and the boy’s hand went to his cock, pumping him, only the cockhead on his mouth now, milking him dry and swallowing eagerly every drop of the salty, thick cum, looking up at England with half-lidded eyes. England was also with eyes barely opened, panting lightly and moaning shakily, still moving shallowly as America rode out his orgasm, swallowing everything. He wanted more of that mouth, but he had other plans, so he pulled away at least.
America’s face was much more flushed, and England at first thought it was because of the rough treatment, but when he looked behind him to America’s pants, wanting to get rid of them, he saw clearly that they were too wet. He looked back at America, his grin was even scaring the boy. He moved to between the younger’s legs and harshly removed his pants, throwing them on the floor along with the other clothes and the mess on his underwear and the softening cock proved what he has been thinking. America had come at some point during the oral. Slut.
“When?” England asked, that predatory stare back to his eyes as he kissed America’s belly.
America choked on his breath. “When y-you...” He stammered a bit, and gave a sharp, shaky inhale. “When you choked me.” He said, his lips beautifully swollen and red. He didn’t even need to touch his cock to reach his peak. He made a small ‘nngh’ noise when his belly was being kissed again. He was exhausted. But he knew it wasn’t over.
“Haha, wow.” England’s hands started to run by the sides of America’s body, as he kissed his belly a few more times, then opened his mouth to bite the fat there, moving down, kissing his groin. “You know, America, don’t sleep, I’m still going to fuck you.” And he heard the boy whimper, but not exactly complaining or denying. “And you are going to love it. You know why?” Another whimper, he chuckled for the billionth time. “Because you are such a fucking slut. Apparently, start to lactate wasn’t just painful and embarrassing, huh? All of this disgusting fat you have here, you also like it when I touch you here, no? You get off on it. Slut.”
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“Sorry!” He cried out. “I was afraid it would... I don’t know, scare you!”
“No, love. I think it’s okay.” Yet another kiss, then he opened his mouth slightly, covering the base, mouthing it gently. America’s moan-whimper was high-pitched. “Where do you keep the lube?” It wasn’t the first time they did it on America’s house, but the boy would change its place randomly. England believed it was because he will use it to finger himself when alone, and got lazy or simply forgot to bring it back to the bedside table.
“It’s on the bathroom. Inside the shower, on the soap dish.” He said, and England almost snorted. For sure the boy has been fingering himself, it was even funny how obvious America was.
“Okay, stay right here.” He asked and stood up, walking to the bathroom attached to America’s room.
America just watched as the man left him alone on his bed, opened the door of his bathroom and disappeared inside it. The boy sighed, staring at the ceiling. All of this was surreal. England found out about this little... antic of his body but it didn’t scare him away. Rather, he took care of it. Another sigh and he closed his eyes, everything that just happened passing though his mind again and he couldn’t repress a smirk. The touching, the wonderful mouth on his nipples, the cock on his throat, choking him-
He looked down to see England wouldn’t have too much work bringing his erection back. Damn, he was really a slut. A fat, milk-leaking slut, he thought with a frown. His mind had already shut down for this, and he just accepted it. And his England was just so nice, still staying by his side even if he was so disgusting (as the man himself pointed out).
His hands wandered on his body, stopping at his chest, and he started to massage, feeling how soft and good to the touch it was again. The pain was gone, too, just like the pressure. He felt so, so much better. And now England knew, they would find a way to fix this. Together. And he would be in shape for his boyfriend again, and generally just a normal, hopefully attractive man. All to please England, he would do it for him.
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...I think I'm going to hell.
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hope you're using your account that i made for you with all my love!
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“Ah, ah, ah.” He heard and turned his head, to where England was coming out his bathroom. “No touching yourself.” He climbed on the bed again, throwing the lube on the side they weren’t using.
“Ah, no.” America explained, his eyes tired and voice hoarse. “I was just feeling my chest. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” He paused a bit, breathing deeply. “Thank you.”
Arthur smiled at his boy, already between his legs again, and leaned down to kiss him on the lips quickly. “You’re welcome. It’s a pleasure, actually.”
Before he could sit back, America’s powerful arms were around his neck, trapping him there, and the American forced him down a bit, until their lips were together again. This time he was the one licking England’s lower lip, nibbling, asking for passage, which the older man happily gave, humming into the somewhat gently, but still pleasant and breathtaking kiss.
America was the one who broke the contact, too, pecking England’s lips a few times before finally releasing him, his arms falling limp on his sides one more time. “Love you.” He said, and added a mentally a thanks for loving me. And England at first was confused, but then smiled.
“Love you too, poppet.” And he didn’t even notice when he got lost on those blue eyes, which were staring up at him so lovingly, and they probably spent minutes holding each other’s gaze, but then England remembered what he should be doing. “Well, America, I want you to turn around, okay?” And America did so, lying with his stomach down, being watched by fierce green eyes. “Stand on your knees and hands, please.” And be obeyed, his beautiful, delicious round ass all exposed to England and England only. He felt the grin that was stretching his lips. “Good boy. Such a good boy you are, America.” He said, his hands landing on the top of America’s ass, caressing down, to where ass met thigh. He shifted a bit, sitting with his crossed legs, and grabbed both buttocks. “Now, spread your legs a bit for me, will you?” And obviously America did, as the good cheap whore he was.
England spread his asscheeks apart, seeing the puckered, tight, pink hole there. He licked his lips. It was twitching, as the boy’s body couldn’t decide whether to relax or not. But he wouldn’t soothe him this time. Not when he was licking his lips and then burying his face on the cleft of his ass.
America cried out, his whole body jerking forwards, avoiding the touch, trying to run away from it because that felt so good and he was afraid he would lose it again. But England was persistent, bringing his face closer again, the way he was grabbing America’s asscheeks telling him should stop moving like that, so he stopped. He sighed, a shaky exhale, and whimpered. “Ho-Holy shit...”
England chuckled and stuck his tongue out, letting it touch America’s entrance, and the boy tensed up abruptly.
America groaned, fighting to don’t move away from the touch again or close his legs. His head fell down, as his whimpers filled the room. He felt the wet, skilled muscle licking over his anus, teasing each nerve ending there, making more and louder moans erupt from the back his throat. By the time England started circling his twitching entrance, he was shivering non-stop, sweat forming a thin layer on his skin, his cock hardening between his legs.
Then he yelled. Loudly, shakily, trembling. His body jerked again and his limbs twitched and spasmed, and he looked down at England, from between his legs, feeling his tongue inside-
And going deeper. Fuck, deeper. Then moving out, then back in. Thrusting, somehow. Then resumed back to circling. He was quivering, shouting every time he felt the wetness moving on him, panting like a dog. Like a slut. And when England closed his mouth around his opening and sucked, he had to support himself on his arms, his hand feeling way too weak to keep him up. His body trembled violently with each suck, with every time the tongue was plugged on his ass, and he was salivating excessively, the stick thing clinging to the corner of his mouth and chin. He knew he could come by only being rimmed, England had done that before, and he was afraid that if he kept going he would-
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America dropped his head again, looking at England between his legs. He could notice his erection resting on his lap, but it was a bit... Foggy. Oh, his glasses, he had to take them off. “E-England.” He called softly, now looking at his face from his shoulder. “Just get on with it.” And even if he had almost no more dignity at the moment, he tried to keep his voice neutral, not quite begging. England noticed that.
“Oh no, my dear.” He said, sweet tone fake. “I still have to prepare you.”
“Fuck- No!” America’s voice was louder, as his head was hanging down again, eyes shut. “I don’t need it. Just do it already.”
England pondered, looking at the bigger, shaking frame of his boyfriend. He looked irresistible when helpless, his cock twitching between his wonderful, plump legs. He grabbed the lube and opened it, coating himself, pumping his own length a few times to make sure he was very slick, since he’s be entering with no preparation. He really thought he should prepare him first, since they didn’t do it for months, but when he asked like that, how could he deny? He put himself on his knees, one of his hands on the base of his cock, the other one keeping America’s buttocks apart. The boy shivered when felt the cockhead against his gaping, waiting entrance... But it was just that. England didn’t move, so he looked over his shoulder again, England had a simple smirk and half-lidded green eyes. America was confused, and tried to push his body back to impale himself, thinking that’s what England wanted, but when calloused hands kept him on place, a long whimper filled the room. What the fuck, now?
“You don’t seem too interested on it, America. Maybe I’ll just stay here until I can see if you really want it.”
The words made him choke- Of course he fucking wanted it. “Englaaaand,” He whined, for he didn’t know what else he could do. He didn’t have energy to discuss, he just wanted to be fucked at cone and get over with it. “please, no more teasing!” His voice went higher as he tried to fuck himself on England’s throbbing dick again, and the other seemed to have fun stopping him. He looked over his shoulder again, frustration mixing with all the other awful feelings. “What do you want me to do?!” Now, that was a begging tone.
England pulled again, not letting America get what he wanted yet, and sat back on the bed, then laid down, sprawled, holding his cock in a rather inviting way. “Suit yourself.”
America stared at him for a while, a bit surprised, his face confused. As he takes a while to move, England starts to pump his cock by himself. Lazily, slowly, inciting America to just go if he wanted it and so he did. He climbed on top of the older man, holding the base of his cock, slapping the other’s hand off there.
England, looking up smugly at the boy with rather flushed cheeks, swollen lips and moisten eyes, smirked pleased, faking a hurt sound as his hand was slapped away and just let America do all the work. America, once more closing his eyes, breathed deeply. He could feel the slickness on England’s dick and, without full control of his own body, almost slammed his hips down, impaling himself all at once on his lover’s meaty cock. His eyes snapped open, widely, as a loud, pained cry erupted from his sore and abused throat, filling the room, letting England more than pleased as he sighed quietly in response.
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England was grunting with each movement, thrusting up, eager to be all inside of Alfred’s warm, wet tightness again, and seeing his naked, big frame start to move in a steady (but still slow) pace was more-than-pleasant. His tummy jiggled as he moved, his chubby, erect cock between the beautiful thighs also bouncing lightly with his thrusts. His face was the most beautiful of all, contorting and blushing with a deep shade of red as he rode the Brit the best he could, moaning lowly and letting a bunch of soft noises that could have been England’s name along with another things (EnglandEnglandArthurEnglandArtieloveyousomuch). His knees were buried on the mattress, and he only moved his hips, both hands on England’s torso.
“America, please, would you move faster?” He asked, his hands flying to the boys large hips, squeezing his love handles lightly. “Or are you useless at this, too?” He teased, and America choked.
Suddenly, he started to quicken his pace. It was awkward, but it was beautiful. That young, pretty boy desperately trying to pleasure him, barely letting his hands guide him. But it was good, America’s erratic pace. It was wonderful, especially when he started to thrust with more power back and-
“A-AH!” America screamed, and started to positively bounce on top of England, making the cock hit and brush against his prostrate every time. He tried to reach down to pump himself, England didn’t let him, he whined and squirmed and kept bouncing desperately since it was the only thing he could do to reach his peak.
“You’ll come by just getting fucked.” And it wasn’t a question. The boy was riding him hard, making justice to how he loved to self-proclaim himself a cowboy, and his body was sweating. He was getting tired, the fat on his body not letting him keep going for so long and his pace slowed down again even if he didn’t want to, he was panting so much and almost sobbed, because he wanted it harder and faster-
Faster than a blink of eyes, he was being thrown back on the bed, both his legs over England’s shoulders as the man impatiently started to thrust into him. “Fuck, America, even this I have to do for you? You’re so fat you can’t even stand sex anymore.” He said, his voice with a fake tone of disgust, and he heard America choke and sob again; success. His knees lifted from the bed a bit, for America was taller and bigger and he wanted to bury himself deep, but he was still holing tight onto those thighs, those beautiful legs, and thrusting harder and harder, ramming into the younger’s hole, their bodies rocking back and forth, bringing the bed together, making the wood whine loudly and the room was so filled with the smell and sounds of sex, moans, grunts and the loud noise of skin slapping forcefully against skin, and suddenly America was screaming on the top of his lungs again and the only thing the boy was capable to say after the scream was “fuckmefuckme”, like a mantra, getting louder and louder, clenching around England and-
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He fell on top of America, both of them panting, gasping for air, trying to catch their breaths. England didn’t want to pull out yet. All he had during these three months they didn’t fuck was his hand (occasionally America’s mouth, too), and he felt the need to stay inside and make all the time they lost worth it. Even though, it was indeed worth it. He didn’t remember the last time he had such good shag.
After a few minutes, when their chests started to rise and fall in a slow pace, and, with a groan from both parts, England pulled his softening cock out, some of his semen following, soiling the sheets. He flipped on the bed, lying besides America, head on the soft chest, and he felt soothed by the still quick heartbeat of his boy.
He didn’t look at the younger’s face, and silence took over. Sleep, was what England thought about at first, and he let his mind drift away to unconsciousness, but before he managed to indeed fall asleep, America’s voice, low and hoarse and still a bit shaky, was caught by his ear. “Do you really think I’m a slut?” He asked, and England chuckled at the hint of sobbing and tears on that voice.
“No. Go sleep.” Of course, he knew how much America enjoyed having his ass fucked by him, but he wasn’t quite a whore, he was only having his fun, missing the last time he experienced having such power and influence over somebody, but America’s body was still tense, and he frowned, a bit out of patience. “I was only teasing you, boy. Seriously.”
America decided to accept that, as his body relaxed, even if when he felt the cum slipping out of his abused, still stretched hole, but he was used to the feeling by now, just flinched a bit. He couldn’t sleep, though, when his stomach was being so loud, warning him that if he didn’t get food soon- “I’m hungry. Go order food for me, please?”
And the older man grinned, even if America couldn’t see, his voice as composed as always, contrasting with the inner excitement to watch America stuff his face with food and that lovely belly of his grow a bit more as he filled himself up. He knew that doesn’t matter how much food he ordered, America wouldn’t let any of it go to waste. “Sure, love. I will.”
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well, this is 'the end'. more or less, as you see on the title, there's still a small part that is like an epilogue, in where i decided to add the 'breeding multiples' part of the request. so well, you can stop here and ignore that if you want. yaaaaaay.
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and here is it. If you don't like OOCness, England being an extreme asshole, America being completely hopeless and way too oblivious like a teenager in love, and possibly dark-ish themes, do ignore this. o_o
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He was walking out of the commercial building, walking towards America’s car, both his hands with something he bought especially for his lover.
He opened the door, he would be driving, since America’s belly wouldn’t let him do that comfortably.
“So?” His pregnant boyfriend asked, hands protectively over his swollen, perfectly round and firm stomach. He didn’t have any clothes that fitted him well by now so his shirt was folded over his abdomen, pants low on his hips, his beloved jacket thrown over his shoulder to keep him warm.
England just smiled at him. No one knew how that had happened, how America managed to get pregnant, something that not even female nations could do. Everyone was shocked, used of their technology, but nothing, they have no clue on how. Just him. Oh, just England knew how evil his little, apparently docile fairies could (and were supposed to) be. So, they decided to pull this small prank on America, much to England’s pleasure. He knew he also could undo that, could force the fairies to make that disappear, but not now, he still had a few months. America had been desperate, he didn’t have idea where exactly those children (yes, children, because he was waiting twins) where exactly on his tummy, and he definitely didn’t know how he would give... Give birth to them. England suggested they’d just figure it out, that he could get a C-section or something. That there was nothing to worry about - he had control over that after all. America didn’t need to know, but he did. He could choose when he wanted the children to born, if so at all. He knew America would feel sad if the babies died, but maybe he just didn’t want to spare their lives, and his fairies were also terrible enough to accomplish his little selfish wish.
“So I bought you a present.” He said, handing the flat, brown box he had on his hands to America, and hid the small bottle he also had, ripping the label that said ‘prolactin hormone’ and handed it to America, too. “And here, your pills.”
“Oh, thanks!” He said, accepting both things, but any kind of movement has been hard to do because of the size his belly has been growing. “But really, they haven’t been so useful. I’m still, eh, you know.”
Yes, America was still lactating. He knew very well. England managed a smile, kissing the boy’s face. “But don’t give up, okay?” His voice was small and soothing, as his fingertips started to run down America’s stomach, and he felt the boy squirming lightly - he knew how sensitive he had gotten there.
“O-Okay.” He said, a bit insecure, and soon his lover’s lips were covering his, in a quick, lovingly kiss. Ah, he loved that boy so much, so much. And he was so, so beautiful, England wanted to keep him in a glass so no one else would be able to reach him. He would kiss America’s belly tonight, kiss and lick and nibble and hear the younger moan and hiss, he couldn’t wait. He loved how he needed England’s help to do anything, he loved how firm, but still soft because of the layers of fat under his skin, his belly was, he loved the gentle, but noticiable arch on his back. Loved watching him touching himself there, feeling the small humans inside of him kicking. And loved, most of all, how easily America got embarrassed because of that, how easily he’d cry and how much he felt needy of a compliment, a word of encouragement. How much he needed England. How big and round he was. It was just perfect.
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It was a dress. Not a simple dress. A white, short, depraved wedding dress. With gloves and a long veil and all. Also a pair of white fishnets. He was quite speechless, while England was driving as if nothing was wrong.
“I-”
“You’ll be wearing it for me tonight.” Again, not a question.
“Uh. Okay I... Guess.” What more could he say? He could give the dress a shot, whatever England’s reasons are. Well, at least, England would be happy, he supposed. He tried to comfort himself with it. He just hoped England remembered his size had to be kind of really big, since the thing full of laces and bows was awfully small.
He was also reminded to don’t forget to take his pills, and even if he was a still a bit concerned about it just not going to work anyway, he would do anyway. Because it was England asking and he trusted and loved England. His hand rested on his lover’s thigh gently, as they made their way to McDonald’s for a quick snack.
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the end! hooray. This was my first fill and I'm really nervous, but I had... fun writing this, i think. i'll probably stick to the art fills from now on though haha... also look at me shoving my silly wedding dress fetish on fanfics, ugh. i'm sorry for the big fail and hopefully someone can enjoy this. :3
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Having said that, I fapped to this twice. :I
I might as well buy my train ticket to Hell in advance.
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You had several typos here and there that sitting back for a day or so and reading over again would have caught, but they were few enough that they didn't detract from the story.
Anon, never stop writing <3
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"...then slapping his heavy erection between his legs lightly..." AND he slapped his cock on America's face? Woah very VERY nice. I love cock slapping. You win internetz for that.
I CAN NOT believe you called this shit. This was not was well written it was hot as heck <3 you should mention how many updates it has in the fill list o=o Its rare to see that many updates.
Though despite how hot it is I can't help but feel sorry for America. . .Actually this reminds me of a dounji about how England was dreaming of America being all weepy and wanting to make him cry so he pinched his cheeks once he woke up....lol XDD
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and ah, I... should? I don't know, i don't feel too comfortable doing things here on the kink meme because i'll probably do it wrong, so I think I just won't, if it's okay. ;_;' and i know this doujin i think, i love it. <3
and thank you!
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