Re: Of Nations and Love (1c/1
anonymous
February 28 2010, 20:06:41 UTC
“Brilliant. Hands above your head then.” America gave England a good-natured roll of his eyes before he complied, smile settling into something less playful and more loving, full of trust and anticipation. He settled his hands above his head, stretching his arms back as well, giving England a quick wiggle of his eyebrows to show he wasn’t going to move. England pushed himself back up so that he was sitting upright on America’s hips again, and returned America’s look, the unspoken agreement passing between them that America’s hands would not move from until England said so.
Pooka shifted slightly so he could lie down and watch what was surely going to be a good show, resting his muzzle on his folded paws, gold eyes wide and alert as England started to move. England moved slowly and with patience, slipping off the remaining layers between them, shifting slightly when he removed his own boxers and America’s, careful to not let their erections brush against each other, which made America’s head fall back in exasperation. England unbuttoned the rest of his shirt but didn’t take it off after America shook his head, England humoring him with a small smirk.
England shifted up America’s body, deliberately letting their skin meet and brush enough to make America twitch and groan, but not much else, pressing a small, chaste kiss to the taller nation’s lips before moving steadily downwards. England kept his eyes locked on America’s as he pressed hot kisses down his neck and chest, tongue flicking out as he passed each nipple briefly, no doubt knowing he was driving America crazy, Pooka thought. Each touch, kiss, brush of his fingers he gave America was fleeting and teasing, giving pleasure but taking it away before it could really develop and it was beginning to show. England, Pooka realized with a smile, was playing. It was a game, see how much America would take from him, how much he would put up with the exquisite torture before he snapped. It was a truly wonderful thing to watch and Pooka counted his lucky stars he had happened upon it.
England continued on in a similar manner, pressing small kisses into America’s skin, his fingers dragging across a strip of skin, working down America’s abdomen, down his legs, down every part of his body except what was sticking up at full attention and demanding some kind of relief. England’s smile turned mischievous just like Pooka’s as he noticed America, despite his obvious frustration, had relaxed his body so that he enjoyed the small attentions. Without warning, he dragged his body back up from America’s calves and gave his erection a warm, wet and deliciously sinful swipe of his tongue. This, understandably, jolted America right back to attention and his hands twitched from where they were frozen at above his head, fingers twisting into the sheets.
England pressed his hands against America’s hips, keeping them still as he took a little bit more of America in each time his head bobbed down. Pooka had not watched human mate for some time and he decided he must rectify that…or perhaps he could just spy on his dear England more often because it was quite possibly the most exciting thing he had seen in some time, watching England’s throat take in a little bit more of America’s swelling arousal and back off, creating a warm and wet friction for the tall nation that had him past coherency. England was entirely focused on America, his eyes and body responding to the pleasure he was giving, not drawing anything for him…it was wonderful to see, selfless love giving and not expecting anything in return. Pooka forgot what a sap he could be when faced with romance.
England let America’s erection go with a wet pop, pressing a small kiss to the tip before he shifted back up, this time not bothering to avoid pressing their bodies together, letting out a hoarse cry as America bucked under him, sending a jolt through his body. Pooka smiled as England nodded softly and America’s hands reached up and pressed their lips together furiously, his tongue slipping against England’s in time with the thrusts of his hips against England’s.
Re: Of Nations and Love (1d/1
anonymous
February 28 2010, 20:08:12 UTC
The game was done and now, now the love began, America’s slicked up fingers pressing into England in gentle time and England arching back into them, his head tilted back and eyes closing as those fingers stretched and sought the spot that made him shiver. Pooka knew enough about human mating to know the mechanics and parts involved. And when the fingers were removed and England slid back, taking nearly all of America into his body in one fluid motion, Pooka found that he was no longer saddened by his own worries or troubles. Watching his dear England move in time with his America, bringing each other to heights and feelings they could not achieve alone, holding onto to each other and pressing lips together in time with their joining, he found his soul content once more. Watching love, real love, always seemed to make any other problem seem inconsequential in the end because if there was love like this, then surely magic could exist as well.
Pooka hopped off the windowsill after they each reached their climax, not wanting to intrude on their private moments after, which in his experience were always more important than the moments before, and waited for a little while outside the cottage, reverting back to his usual form of a horse. Eventually, his England would feel him here. And sure enough, some time later, England poked his head outside his bedroom window, looking slightly wet as if he had just stepped out of a shower, and glared down at Pooka.
“It’s not very polite to peek on someone’s private conversations, you bloody horse!”
Pooka smirked and nickered softly in a manner that could only be a laugh. You were not ‘conversing’ all that much, England now were you? And my, I had no idea you were so limber…I do hope you didn’t strain anything-
“If you speak one more word, I swear I’ll make shave off your sodding mane!” England hissed back.
Pooka nickered some more and tossed his glorious black mane back, fixing his gold eyes back on England’s bright green eyes. Do not worry, dear England, I will not mention to any of the Others of how happy you are in love. I will respect your wishes to inform them in your own time, but I hope you know that they will be nothing but glad for you…as am I. It is nice to see you smile so freely once more.
England blushed slightly but nodded, a small, satisfied smile stretching across his lips. “Thank you.”
Of course…though, I am tempted to meet this America for myself. You should send him outside; he looks strong enough to endure a ride.
England shook his head and gave him another smirk. “He wouldn’t see you, Pooka, he’s particularly thick-headed.”
My favorite kind. At that moment, America choose that moment to grab something from his vehicle outside, exiting through the back door in only a pair of loose jeans and a t-shirt, barefoot and with slightly damp hair as well. He paused when he saw Pooka, really saw him, and looked back up at England, whose eyes had widened in surprise because America could apparently see the mythical creature.
“I didn’t know you had a horse, Arthur!”
England looked torn for a moment, before he glanced at Pooka, eyes silently commanding he take it easy on the other nation, before he smiled back at America. “You can take him for a ride, if you like. Though, I warn you, he’s pretty unpredictable…”
“Come on, Iggy, I’m a hero remember? I can totally handle a horse!”
England smiled and exchanged a smirk with Pooka. His eyes conveyed everything Pooka needed to know; that it would do for America to have some proof of England’s Fey friends, but that it wouldn’t do for the poor boy to have any lingering nightmares. Pooka could accept those terms…he’d go easy on the lad for England. “Then, by all means, Alfred.”
Pooka could not have asked for a better end to the day.
Pooka shifted slightly so he could lie down and watch what was surely going to be a good show, resting his muzzle on his folded paws, gold eyes wide and alert as England started to move. England moved slowly and with patience, slipping off the remaining layers between them, shifting slightly when he removed his own boxers and America’s, careful to not let their erections brush against each other, which made America’s head fall back in exasperation. England unbuttoned the rest of his shirt but didn’t take it off after America shook his head, England humoring him with a small smirk.
England shifted up America’s body, deliberately letting their skin meet and brush enough to make America twitch and groan, but not much else, pressing a small, chaste kiss to the taller nation’s lips before moving steadily downwards. England kept his eyes locked on America’s as he pressed hot kisses down his neck and chest, tongue flicking out as he passed each nipple briefly, no doubt knowing he was driving America crazy, Pooka thought. Each touch, kiss, brush of his fingers he gave America was fleeting and teasing, giving pleasure but taking it away before it could really develop and it was beginning to show. England, Pooka realized with a smile, was playing. It was a game, see how much America would take from him, how much he would put up with the exquisite torture before he snapped. It was a truly wonderful thing to watch and Pooka counted his lucky stars he had happened upon it.
England continued on in a similar manner, pressing small kisses into America’s skin, his fingers dragging across a strip of skin, working down America’s abdomen, down his legs, down every part of his body except what was sticking up at full attention and demanding some kind of relief. England’s smile turned mischievous just like Pooka’s as he noticed America, despite his obvious frustration, had relaxed his body so that he enjoyed the small attentions. Without warning, he dragged his body back up from America’s calves and gave his erection a warm, wet and deliciously sinful swipe of his tongue. This, understandably, jolted America right back to attention and his hands twitched from where they were frozen at above his head, fingers twisting into the sheets.
England pressed his hands against America’s hips, keeping them still as he took a little bit more of America in each time his head bobbed down. Pooka had not watched human mate for some time and he decided he must rectify that…or perhaps he could just spy on his dear England more often because it was quite possibly the most exciting thing he had seen in some time, watching England’s throat take in a little bit more of America’s swelling arousal and back off, creating a warm and wet friction for the tall nation that had him past coherency. England was entirely focused on America, his eyes and body responding to the pleasure he was giving, not drawing anything for him…it was wonderful to see, selfless love giving and not expecting anything in return. Pooka forgot what a sap he could be when faced with romance.
England let America’s erection go with a wet pop, pressing a small kiss to the tip before he shifted back up, this time not bothering to avoid pressing their bodies together, letting out a hoarse cry as America bucked under him, sending a jolt through his body. Pooka smiled as England nodded softly and America’s hands reached up and pressed their lips together furiously, his tongue slipping against England’s in time with the thrusts of his hips against England’s.
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Pooka hopped off the windowsill after they each reached their climax, not wanting to intrude on their private moments after, which in his experience were always more important than the moments before, and waited for a little while outside the cottage, reverting back to his usual form of a horse. Eventually, his England would feel him here. And sure enough, some time later, England poked his head outside his bedroom window, looking slightly wet as if he had just stepped out of a shower, and glared down at Pooka.
“It’s not very polite to peek on someone’s private conversations, you bloody horse!”
Pooka smirked and nickered softly in a manner that could only be a laugh. You were not ‘conversing’ all that much, England now were you? And my, I had no idea you were so limber…I do hope you didn’t strain anything-
“If you speak one more word, I swear I’ll make shave off your sodding mane!” England hissed back.
Pooka nickered some more and tossed his glorious black mane back, fixing his gold eyes back on England’s bright green eyes. Do not worry, dear England, I will not mention to any of the Others of how happy you are in love. I will respect your wishes to inform them in your own time, but I hope you know that they will be nothing but glad for you…as am I. It is nice to see you smile so freely once more.
England blushed slightly but nodded, a small, satisfied smile stretching across his lips. “Thank you.”
Of course…though, I am tempted to meet this America for myself. You should send him outside; he looks strong enough to endure a ride.
England shook his head and gave him another smirk. “He wouldn’t see you, Pooka, he’s particularly thick-headed.”
My favorite kind. At that moment, America choose that moment to grab something from his vehicle outside, exiting through the back door in only a pair of loose jeans and a t-shirt, barefoot and with slightly damp hair as well. He paused when he saw Pooka, really saw him, and looked back up at England, whose eyes had widened in surprise because America could apparently see the mythical creature.
“I didn’t know you had a horse, Arthur!”
England looked torn for a moment, before he glanced at Pooka, eyes silently commanding he take it easy on the other nation, before he smiled back at America. “You can take him for a ride, if you like. Though, I warn you, he’s pretty unpredictable…”
“Come on, Iggy, I’m a hero remember? I can totally handle a horse!”
England smiled and exchanged a smirk with Pooka. His eyes conveyed everything Pooka needed to know; that it would do for America to have some proof of England’s Fey friends, but that it wouldn’t do for the poor boy to have any lingering nightmares. Pooka could accept those terms…he’d go easy on the lad for England. “Then, by all means, Alfred.”
Pooka could not have asked for a better end to the day.
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And considering that America is a Cowboy who loves the freedom of the skies, I think he can handle a flying horse JUST FINE.
Fear the aviator, Pooka. <3
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America is a cowboy so he might be able to handle Pooka. Maybe ^_^
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lolol America riding Pooka. Omake please? :D
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Omake? Hmm...maybe, we'll see ^_^.
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But even so, he will deny the existence of fairy
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*shot*
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