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.
"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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