Heartland [5/7]
anonymous
August 28 2011, 03:38:37 UTC
The older man hummed softly into his partner's skin before sliding further down his body. He licked and nipped his way until he reached his stomach.
Since he had reached adulthood, America had always been a bigger man. He had broad shoulders and a large chest and throughout most of his life he'd also carried a healthy layer of fat around his middle. However, at some point he'd decided that he would rather be thin and spent far too much time at the gym working hard to melt it all away. England considered himself very lucky at times like these, when America was too busy to put so much conceited effort into his appearance and he put on all the weight that he was supposed to have. He looked so much healthier, so much more beautiful.
England carefully rubbed America's belly, enjoying the way that the slightly soft flesh molded to his hands. He leaned down to nibble and lick and his sides. He was confused by America's lack of wiggling. Usually his belly was so sensitive that any such touches were usually enough to turn the younger nation into a little puddle of nerves that could do nothing but beg for him to go lower. England looked up at America and was surprised to see him frowning.
"You're just making fun of me," he said, "Stop it."
"No I'm not," England said, returning his lover's frown, "I was just playing."
"More like teasing," America looked away.
Oh, why did he still have to be so self-conscious? And in front of England no less. Well, the phase would pass soon enough. For now, he would just have to lighten the mood a bit.
"Don't be silly, love, this is teasing," His strokes turned into feather-light caresses and he again put his lips to America's skin, but this time he barely brushed him.
America let out a light, breathless sort of laugh, "No, come on now, that's not fair-"
But his only response was that of fingers running across his navel.
America's stomach muscles clenched and unclenched as he tried to hold back his laughter. It felt rather interesting under England's lips and fingers. For the sake of trying something new, he sat up between America's knees, still tickling his stomach. By this point the other nation was starting to lose control, laughs slipping out now and then. His eyes were still open and looking at him with love. England couldn't help but smile back at him as he seized his leg. He began to run his fingers across America's sensitive inner thigh. He gave his lover solid strokes twice to attempt to keep him aroused and then went back to tickling. America actually started to laugh out loud. Spurred on by the sounds America was making, England began to work his way up the leg.
"No," The younger nation said between laughs, "Not- not my foot!"
"Why not?" England asked, getting a firm grip on his ankle.
"Please, it- it's super ticklish!"
England grinned evilly down at him, "That's the point," And with that he brushed the tips of his fingers against the arch of America's foot.
The larger man actually shrieked at that, entire body shaking with laughter. England couldn't help but feel in awe when he looked down at his lover. Every single one of his strong muscles was being worked at once, showing off how much raw power he actually had. His eyes were squeezed shut, but his mouth was wide open. Every inch of his skin was flushed pink. And somehow, through it all, he was still fully aroused. Just the sight was enough to bring England, who had started to go slightly soft, back to full attention.
He shifted his grip on America so that he could hold his ankle and tickle his foot with the same hand. England spat into his palm, making sure to get a good amount of the liquid on his hand. He then reached down and wrapped his hand around America's cock, pumping it a few times. America's shudders went from ones of hysterics to ones of pleasure and England let go of his ankle.
"Not ticklish here, I take it?" England asked, smirking.
"No," America said, "I don't want you to stop though."
"I don't have to," England said.
"You do for a sec."
"Why?" England asked, letting go.
"So I can do this," He grabbed England and flipped them again.
Heartland [6/7]
anonymous
August 28 2011, 03:39:34 UTC
"Little rat!" England shouted, not really meaning it.
America shrugged, "Hey, I gave up one of your awesome hand jobs to get you like this."
England scowled, but didn't say anything.
America seemed to take it as an okay, because he went down England's body, leaving a wet trail of sloppy kisses and lots of licking. The older nation loved it when America threw away any and all of his technique, just letting his passion and youthful energy take over. He shuddered and let his hands rest on America's neck, letting them be pulled down with him.
The larger nation paused over England's cock for a moment and just breathed on it. England let out a particularly violent shudder, he knew what was coming. America's tongue flicked out once, twice, and then he slowly took in England's head.
England furrowed his brow. That wasn't like him. He usually went right for it, deepthroating him after nothing but taking a moment to compose himself. He looked down at America to figure out what was going on. When the younger nation saw that he was looking, he let go completely. England winced as cool air surrounded his wet head.
"You took your time teasing me," America said, "Now it's my turn."
England was about to protest, but then America licked him all the way from base to tip, "Oh, Jesus," England said, gripping America's hair.
He felt the cocky little shit smirk against him before taking the tip in his mouth again. Part of him wanted to just thrust up and make America swallow it all, but he wouldn't have been expecting it so he might have ended up choking or biting down, neither of which would be good. So instead, England just allowed him to keep playing his game. He was glad that he did because America started to slowly work his way down England's cock. The younger nation's pace just made him appreciate his mouth even more, so soft and tight and wet. England worked so hard to keep his hips still, even though he would occasionally fail and push himself deeper into America's mouth. The younger nation didn't seem to mind. He just accepted everything until England was fully encased in heat and wetness and fuck. And then America swallowed. England let out a cry and threw his head back into the pillows. America swallowed a few more times, and on every occasion England let out a cry and tugged at his hair.
Then the unthinkable happened. America let him go and pulled away.
"No…" England whined.
America laughed and crawled up to kiss him on the cheek, "Hey, you torture me, I torture you. Besides, look at how wet you are now." He ran a finger along England's cock.
England shivered from the feeling but said, "Yes, and look at how cold that made me."
"Won't be cold for long," America said, rolling them onto their sides.
He slid his cock next to England and wrapped his fingers around them both. He let out a soft cry, but England just shivered. He spat into his hand again and placed it next to America's.
America looked at him and smiled, "Love it when we're like this."
"Next to each other?" England asked, starting to move.
America groaned and joined him, "Yeah. Come closer."
England scooted forward so that his and America's chests were flush with each other. Dear God, America was so hot that England could swear he was searing his skin. The younger nation just smiled and grabbed England's free hand with his own. Their fingers tangled over their cocks as well, helping them to move together better. England let his eyes flutter closed so that he could better focus on the feeling.
Heartland [7/7]
anonymous
August 28 2011, 03:40:05 UTC
"No," America said, "Open your eyes."
England did as he was told.
"Thanks. I love looking at them; they're such a pretty green."
"Are they?" England asked. He couldn't keep his eyes all the way open, but he didn't let them close beyond half-mast.
"Yeah."
Neither of them could really think of anything else to say. What else did they really need to say? Everything was perfect. The bed was soft, America was warm, and England was surrounded by a haze of pleasure he never wanted to leave.
However, America didn't seem content to just let them drift through their mutual masturbation. He began to slide his hand faster, making England follow him. America's vigor couldn't be matched, but something about it made England want to try. He began helping to stroke them faster and faster. The pleasure wasn't as much of a haze now. England was more aware of what was going on, of every little groan that America let out, every bead of sweat that rolled down either of their bodies, every shift of the blankets beneath them. However, it wasn't like the pleasure was gone. It felt more as though the haze had all been condensed and forced into his balls. He felt tight and heavy and hot and he wanted it out badly.
America seemed to return the sentiment, because his face looked more strained now, and he was pumping faster and faster too. He was close, wasn't he? They were both so close. England wanted to look down to watch, but their chests and hands would be in the way. Instead he just kept his eyes trained on America's face. He watched as the younger nation gnawed on his lower lip in an attempt to keep quiet. His eyes were shut tightly and sweat was rolling down his forehead sideways. Under any other circumstances, England probably would have laughed. However, in the middle of sex he found it unbelievably arousing. He let out a groan. He was so close, so damn close.
Then he got the last push he needed. America let out a shudder and a particularly loud groan. He had an absolutely beautiful look of relief on his face as he emptied into their joined hands. But more than that, it was probably the burning heat of his come against England's base that prompted the Brit's orgasm.
For a few moments he just laid there and allowed waves of pleasure to wash over him. He was vaguely aware of America reaching over for a tissue to clean up their hands and groins and wiping him down. However, he was too busy feeling sated and happy to really care about what was going on.
He felt America watching him and opened his eyes. He saw his lover staring back at him from behind fogged glasses. England reached over and took the spectacles away from him. His eyes were back to their usual sea-blue color, which looked quite flattering against his damp fringe.
"You were fantastic," England said softly.
"Right back at ya," America replied, ruffling England's hair. He yawned, "What do you say we call it a day early? Let's just shower and go to sleep. I'm exhausted."
"Alright," England sat up, "So I take it you're not going to try to spring shower sex on me this time."
"Oh man, I'd love to," America grinned as he sat up, "But I don't think I can do it. I guess I'm just getting old…" he pouted.
"You can't be." England got out of bed and rolled his shoulders, "I'm sure you'll age like milk when the time comes."
"Isn't the saying 'like good wine'?"
"Yes. But you'll age like milk."
"Bastard," America grumbled.
"Come on, you twit," England said, holding out a hand for him, "Let's go. We have a long day tomorrow."
"Coming mother," America said, grabbing England's wrist and allowing him to pull him up.
"We do. You always insist on getting up at dawn," England said walking away.
"It's the right way to do it!"
"I don't care. It's too early."
"That's not what makes it long." America wrapped his arms around England's waist, "What makes it long is that we get up and work all day and then have super awesome mind-blowing sex."
"That may have something to do with it," England admitted, turning slightly to kiss him.
The older man hummed softly into his partner's skin before sliding further down his body. He licked and nipped his way until he reached his stomach.
Since he had reached adulthood, America had always been a bigger man. He had broad shoulders and a large chest and throughout most of his life he'd also carried a healthy layer of fat around his middle. However, at some point he'd decided that he would rather be thin and spent far too much time at the gym working hard to melt it all away. England considered himself very lucky at times like these, when America was too busy to put so much conceited effort into his appearance and he put on all the weight that he was supposed to have. He looked so much healthier, so much more beautiful.
England carefully rubbed America's belly, enjoying the way that the slightly soft flesh molded to his hands. He leaned down to nibble and lick and his sides. He was confused by America's lack of wiggling. Usually his belly was so sensitive that any such touches were usually enough to turn the younger nation into a little puddle of nerves that could do nothing but beg for him to go lower. England looked up at America and was surprised to see him frowning.
"You're just making fun of me," he said, "Stop it."
"No I'm not," England said, returning his lover's frown, "I was just playing."
"More like teasing," America looked away.
Oh, why did he still have to be so self-conscious? And in front of England no less. Well, the phase would pass soon enough. For now, he would just have to lighten the mood a bit.
"Don't be silly, love, this is teasing," His strokes turned into feather-light caresses and he again put his lips to America's skin, but this time he barely brushed him.
America let out a light, breathless sort of laugh, "No, come on now, that's not fair-"
But his only response was that of fingers running across his navel.
America's stomach muscles clenched and unclenched as he tried to hold back his laughter. It felt rather interesting under England's lips and fingers. For the sake of trying something new, he sat up between America's knees, still tickling his stomach. By this point the other nation was starting to lose control, laughs slipping out now and then. His eyes were still open and looking at him with love. England couldn't help but smile back at him as he seized his leg. He began to run his fingers across America's sensitive inner thigh. He gave his lover solid strokes twice to attempt to keep him aroused and then went back to tickling. America actually started to laugh out loud. Spurred on by the sounds America was making, England began to work his way up the leg.
"No," The younger nation said between laughs, "Not- not my foot!"
"Why not?" England asked, getting a firm grip on his ankle.
"Please, it- it's super ticklish!"
England grinned evilly down at him, "That's the point," And with that he brushed the tips of his fingers against the arch of America's foot.
The larger man actually shrieked at that, entire body shaking with laughter. England couldn't help but feel in awe when he looked down at his lover. Every single one of his strong muscles was being worked at once, showing off how much raw power he actually had. His eyes were squeezed shut, but his mouth was wide open. Every inch of his skin was flushed pink. And somehow, through it all, he was still fully aroused. Just the sight was enough to bring England, who had started to go slightly soft, back to full attention.
He shifted his grip on America so that he could hold his ankle and tickle his foot with the same hand. England spat into his palm, making sure to get a good amount of the liquid on his hand. He then reached down and wrapped his hand around America's cock, pumping it a few times. America's shudders went from ones of hysterics to ones of pleasure and England let go of his ankle.
"Not ticklish here, I take it?" England asked, smirking.
"No," America said, "I don't want you to stop though."
"I don't have to," England said.
"You do for a sec."
"Why?" England asked, letting go.
"So I can do this," He grabbed England and flipped them again.
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"Little rat!" England shouted, not really meaning it.
America shrugged, "Hey, I gave up one of your awesome hand jobs to get you like this."
England scowled, but didn't say anything.
America seemed to take it as an okay, because he went down England's body, leaving a wet trail of sloppy kisses and lots of licking. The older nation loved it when America threw away any and all of his technique, just letting his passion and youthful energy take over. He shuddered and let his hands rest on America's neck, letting them be pulled down with him.
The larger nation paused over England's cock for a moment and just breathed on it. England let out a particularly violent shudder, he knew what was coming. America's tongue flicked out once, twice, and then he slowly took in England's head.
England furrowed his brow. That wasn't like him. He usually went right for it, deepthroating him after nothing but taking a moment to compose himself. He looked down at America to figure out what was going on. When the younger nation saw that he was looking, he let go completely. England winced as cool air surrounded his wet head.
"You took your time teasing me," America said, "Now it's my turn."
England was about to protest, but then America licked him all the way from base to tip, "Oh, Jesus," England said, gripping America's hair.
He felt the cocky little shit smirk against him before taking the tip in his mouth again. Part of him wanted to just thrust up and make America swallow it all, but he wouldn't have been expecting it so he might have ended up choking or biting down, neither of which would be good. So instead, England just allowed him to keep playing his game. He was glad that he did because America started to slowly work his way down England's cock. The younger nation's pace just made him appreciate his mouth even more, so soft and tight and wet. England worked so hard to keep his hips still, even though he would occasionally fail and push himself deeper into America's mouth. The younger nation didn't seem to mind. He just accepted everything until England was fully encased in heat and wetness and fuck. And then America swallowed. England let out a cry and threw his head back into the pillows. America swallowed a few more times, and on every occasion England let out a cry and tugged at his hair.
Then the unthinkable happened. America let him go and pulled away.
"No…" England whined.
America laughed and crawled up to kiss him on the cheek, "Hey, you torture me, I torture you. Besides, look at how wet you are now." He ran a finger along England's cock.
England shivered from the feeling but said, "Yes, and look at how cold that made me."
"Won't be cold for long," America said, rolling them onto their sides.
He slid his cock next to England and wrapped his fingers around them both. He let out a soft cry, but England just shivered. He spat into his hand again and placed it next to America's.
America looked at him and smiled, "Love it when we're like this."
"Next to each other?" England asked, starting to move.
America groaned and joined him, "Yeah. Come closer."
England scooted forward so that his and America's chests were flush with each other. Dear God, America was so hot that England could swear he was searing his skin. The younger nation just smiled and grabbed England's free hand with his own. Their fingers tangled over their cocks as well, helping them to move together better. England let his eyes flutter closed so that he could better focus on the feeling.
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"No," America said, "Open your eyes."
England did as he was told.
"Thanks. I love looking at them; they're such a pretty green."
"Are they?" England asked. He couldn't keep his eyes all the way open, but he didn't let them close beyond half-mast.
"Yeah."
Neither of them could really think of anything else to say. What else did they really need to say? Everything was perfect. The bed was soft, America was warm, and England was surrounded by a haze of pleasure he never wanted to leave.
However, America didn't seem content to just let them drift through their mutual masturbation. He began to slide his hand faster, making England follow him. America's vigor couldn't be matched, but something about it made England want to try. He began helping to stroke them faster and faster. The pleasure wasn't as much of a haze now. England was more aware of what was going on, of every little groan that America let out, every bead of sweat that rolled down either of their bodies, every shift of the blankets beneath them. However, it wasn't like the pleasure was gone. It felt more as though the haze had all been condensed and forced into his balls. He felt tight and heavy and hot and he wanted it out badly.
America seemed to return the sentiment, because his face looked more strained now, and he was pumping faster and faster too. He was close, wasn't he? They were both so close. England wanted to look down to watch, but their chests and hands would be in the way. Instead he just kept his eyes trained on America's face. He watched as the younger nation gnawed on his lower lip in an attempt to keep quiet. His eyes were shut tightly and sweat was rolling down his forehead sideways. Under any other circumstances, England probably would have laughed. However, in the middle of sex he found it unbelievably arousing. He let out a groan. He was so close, so damn close.
Then he got the last push he needed. America let out a shudder and a particularly loud groan. He had an absolutely beautiful look of relief on his face as he emptied into their joined hands. But more than that, it was probably the burning heat of his come against England's base that prompted the Brit's orgasm.
For a few moments he just laid there and allowed waves of pleasure to wash over him. He was vaguely aware of America reaching over for a tissue to clean up their hands and groins and wiping him down. However, he was too busy feeling sated and happy to really care about what was going on.
He felt America watching him and opened his eyes. He saw his lover staring back at him from behind fogged glasses. England reached over and took the spectacles away from him. His eyes were back to their usual sea-blue color, which looked quite flattering against his damp fringe.
"You were fantastic," England said softly.
"Right back at ya," America replied, ruffling England's hair. He yawned, "What do you say we call it a day early? Let's just shower and go to sleep. I'm exhausted."
"Alright," England sat up, "So I take it you're not going to try to spring shower sex on me this time."
"Oh man, I'd love to," America grinned as he sat up, "But I don't think I can do it. I guess I'm just getting old…" he pouted.
"You can't be." England got out of bed and rolled his shoulders, "I'm sure you'll age like milk when the time comes."
"Isn't the saying 'like good wine'?"
"Yes. But you'll age like milk."
"Bastard," America grumbled.
"Come on, you twit," England said, holding out a hand for him, "Let's go. We have a long day tomorrow."
"Coming mother," America said, grabbing England's wrist and allowing him to pull him up.
"We do. You always insist on getting up at dawn," England said walking away.
"It's the right way to do it!"
"I don't care. It's too early."
"That's not what makes it long." America wrapped his arms around England's waist, "What makes it long is that we get up and work all day and then have super awesome mind-blowing sex."
"That may have something to do with it," England admitted, turning slightly to kiss him.
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Great banter and sexy sexy times.
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