The 424-year-old Virgin [1/2]
anonymous
March 23 2009, 22:41:55 UTC
Not the original anon that said they would write this, but I couldn't resist.
This is my first time writing teh smuts, so please go easy on me.
--
“What did you want me here for?” asked America. England stood at the other side of the room, behind a desk. America hoped it wasn’t something about Iraq again - he was still trying to work out exactly what he was going to do about that, but he certainly would do something… eventually.
“You see, I heard something very interesting a few days ago,” said England, grinning, “From France.”
“And this has to do with me… why?”
“It has everything to do with you,” said England, “It was something he lied about to me long ago.”
“Cut the crap, England. If this is just between you and France -”
“This has to do with you and France. He’s told me that he lied to me when he said he deflowered you back during the war. He also said - don’t ask me how he knows these things, I don’t want to think of his vile ways - that you were probably still a virgin. Am I correct?”
America turned such a curious shade of white that England thought he was going to pass out right then and there.
“That’s a yes, isn’t it?”
“No.”
“Hmm. You look like you need to sit,” said England, pulling the office chair out from under the desk. America just looked at the chair nervously. “Humor me, will you?”
“I blame myself, honestly, I never did have a chance to give you a proper sexual education,” mused England, fingers at the first button of America’s blazer, “but we can start now. Better late than never. Would that be fine with you?”
America nodded.
“I just have one condition. Answer any question I have. Don’t lie to me. I’m sick of people lying to me.”
“O-okay…”
“Now. Tell me why France didn’t,” said England, making quick work of the blazer. America shrugged it off back into the chair.
“He probably would have, I think… but he was always busy with Ben,” said America.
“Franklin?” asked England, and America nodded. England touched his lips to America’s cheek, finding a wire blocking the skin. As England reached for America’s glasses, he said, “Do you mind?”
“No, not at all…”
England put a knee in the chair between America’s legs. Texas was set carefully on the desk, and with that much less vision, the touch became that much more intense.
“And Russia,” said England softly, right to the American’s ear, “You were quite close with him for a while… what happened there?”
“I wanted to, but God, seemed like he’d crush my ribs, he’s so… you know…” America trailed off.
“Big,” said England, impassive, grinding his knee, “Strong. And you were still weak back then.”
“Yes…”
“Understandable, I suppose. But Canada. He was close, and almost the same as you. Why not?”
“Said no, once… and I never asked him again,” said America. England undid the tie, and then flicked open one button, two. His mouth trailed from America’s cheek to his collarbone, the questions pausing for only a moment.
“Spain.”
“Never.”
“Mexico.”
“I-I only stuck around long enough to take her stuff.”
“Cuba? Guam? Puerto Rico?” asked England, punctuating each name with an open-mouthed kiss and a pop of a button.
“Oh God, they were just children when I got them -”
“Hawai’i.”
“I wanted to, but she doesn’t --aah!”
England paused, his teeth just over a nipple, and looked up.
“You don’t like that?”
“I… I don’t… know…” Above England, America looked flushed, bothered, beautifully vulnerable. And this was the last superpower left, wasn’t he? England, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why nobody had tried this before.
And so England tried again, his teeth grazing the nipple, biting down gently.
“Ye-yes, I do like that…”
“China, back in the seventies,” said England, finishing off the last of the buttons, grinding his knee a bit harder. He could feel stiffness already.
America only moaned.
“Answer me,” said England, stopping the grinding. “China, during the seventies.”
“We… we just played ping-pong a little. That’s all,” said America, “Please -”
“Not until you’re done answering me. Now Japan? You seem to be spending a lot of time with him, lately.”
Re: The 424-year-old Virgin [1/2]
anonymous
March 23 2009, 22:43:12 UTC
“Is that all?” asked America, breathless, grinning.
“No,” said England, though he unhooked the belt anyway, “There’s something I’m wondering, now. Early nineteen hundreds.” He slipped the belt all the way off, unbuttoned America’s fly, undoing the zipper.
“You remember, don’t you? I can’t think of a single country in Europe that didn’t visit you, not to mention Asia,” said England. He got down on his knees and slipped the trousers down America’s hips. The boxers followed soon after, and England found himself staring down a very erect cock.
“They even went so far as to call you the land of opportunity.”
America bit his lip when England’s warm breath wafted over the head, wondering how long the torture would last.
“The question is, with so much opportunity, why not take advantage of it?” England ran a finger over the underside of America’s cock, rubbing a circle over the head, then taking his hand back.
“We can stop this all right now, if that’s how it’s going to be,” said England.
“No -”
“Then why?” asked England, licking two fingers, “Oh, let me help you. You were scared, weren’t you?”
“No, it’s not that -”
“Don’t lie to me, America.” He put two fingertips at the head, teasingly keeping them very, very still.
“I… yes…”
And finally, fingertips smeared precum -
“Yes - yes - that's why - all the regulation -”
And the heat of England’s breath -
“So - many of them, so - I didn’t know what to do- Oh God -”
So warm, finally, confession feeling so good -
“So scared - a-AAH!”
And so suddenly, it was all over.
“You came,” said England, stating the obvious, with the white proof dripping from his hand to the chair.
“…Yeah.”
“So soon.”
“…I…”
“God, you really are a virgin,” said England. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and began wiping the cum off of his hand.
“We can still… you know… if you want…” said America, still breathless, the flush in his cheeks rising again, this time in embarrassment.
“Mmn. No, you’re probably not up to doing you know now.” said England, standing up. He handed the handkerchief to America.
Still red, America began cleaning himself off, still feeling a dull, pleasant twinge as he did. “I’m sorry-”
“That’s quite alright. We’ll just have to continue your education at a later date.”
Re: The 424-year-old Virgin [1/2]
anonymous
March 24 2009, 06:54:16 UTC
OP here, and I`m dying over this piece. England grinning, America trying to bluff his way out of it, England totally dominating America, and that last bit. "You came so soon. You really ARE a virgin!" I love it. I love America admitting he was scared. It's so delicious, and I feel greedy for asking for a sequel?
This is my first time writing teh smuts, so please go easy on me.
--
“What did you want me here for?” asked America. England stood at the other side of the room, behind a desk. America hoped it wasn’t something about Iraq again - he was still trying to work out exactly what he was going to do about that, but he certainly would do something… eventually.
“You see, I heard something very interesting a few days ago,” said England, grinning, “From France.”
“And this has to do with me… why?”
“It has everything to do with you,” said England, “It was something he lied about to me long ago.”
“Cut the crap, England. If this is just between you and France -”
“This has to do with you and France. He’s told me that he lied to me when he said he deflowered you back during the war. He also said - don’t ask me how he knows these things, I don’t want to think of his vile ways - that you were probably still a virgin. Am I correct?”
America turned such a curious shade of white that England thought he was going to pass out right then and there.
“That’s a yes, isn’t it?”
“No.”
“Hmm. You look like you need to sit,” said England, pulling the office chair out from under the desk. America just looked at the chair nervously. “Humor me, will you?”
“I blame myself, honestly, I never did have a chance to give you a proper sexual education,” mused England, fingers at the first button of America’s blazer, “but we can start now. Better late than never. Would that be fine with you?”
America nodded.
“I just have one condition. Answer any question I have. Don’t lie to me. I’m sick of people lying to me.”
“O-okay…”
“Now. Tell me why France didn’t,” said England, making quick work of the blazer. America shrugged it off back into the chair.
“He probably would have, I think… but he was always busy with Ben,” said America.
“Franklin?” asked England, and America nodded. England touched his lips to America’s cheek, finding a wire blocking the skin. As England reached for America’s glasses, he said, “Do you mind?”
“No, not at all…”
England put a knee in the chair between America’s legs. Texas was set carefully on the desk, and with that much less vision, the touch became that much more intense.
“And Russia,” said England softly, right to the American’s ear, “You were quite close with him for a while… what happened there?”
“I wanted to, but God, seemed like he’d crush my ribs, he’s so… you know…” America trailed off.
“Big,” said England, impassive, grinding his knee, “Strong. And you were still
weak back then.”
“Yes…”
“Understandable, I suppose. But Canada. He was close, and almost the same as you. Why not?”
“Said no, once… and I never asked him again,” said America. England undid the tie, and then flicked open one button, two. His mouth trailed from America’s cheek to his collarbone, the questions pausing for only a moment.
“Spain.”
“Never.”
“Mexico.”
“I-I only stuck around long enough to take her stuff.”
“Cuba? Guam? Puerto Rico?” asked England, punctuating each name with an open-mouthed kiss and a pop of a button.
“Oh God, they were just children when I got them -”
“Hawai’i.”
“I wanted to, but she doesn’t --aah!”
England paused, his teeth just over a nipple, and looked up.
“You don’t like that?”
“I… I don’t… know…” Above England, America looked flushed, bothered, beautifully vulnerable. And this was the last superpower left, wasn’t he? England, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why nobody had tried this before.
And so England tried again, his teeth grazing the nipple, biting down gently.
“Ye-yes, I do like that…”
“China, back in the seventies,” said England, finishing off the last of the buttons, grinding his knee a bit harder. He could feel stiffness already.
America only moaned.
“Answer me,” said England, stopping the grinding. “China, during the seventies.”
“We… we just played ping-pong a little. That’s all,” said America, “Please -”
“Not until you’re done answering me. Now Japan? You seem to be spending a lot of time with him, lately.”
“Something about tentacles…”
“Hmm.” England had finally made it to the belt.
Reply
“No,” said England, though he unhooked the belt anyway, “There’s something I’m wondering, now. Early nineteen hundreds.” He slipped the belt all the way off, unbuttoned America’s fly, undoing the zipper.
“You remember, don’t you? I can’t think of a single country in Europe that didn’t visit you, not to mention Asia,” said England. He got down on his knees and slipped the trousers down America’s hips. The boxers followed soon after, and England found himself staring down a very erect cock.
“They even went so far as to call you the land of opportunity.”
America bit his lip when England’s warm breath wafted over the head, wondering how long the torture would last.
“The question is, with so much opportunity, why not take advantage of it?” England ran a finger over the underside of America’s cock, rubbing a circle over the head, then taking his hand back.
“We can stop this all right now, if that’s how it’s going to be,” said England.
“No -”
“Then why?” asked England, licking two fingers, “Oh, let me help you. You were scared, weren’t you?”
“No, it’s not that -”
“Don’t lie to me, America.” He put two fingertips at the head, teasingly keeping them very, very still.
“I… yes…”
And finally, fingertips smeared precum -
“Yes - yes - that's why - all the regulation -”
And the heat of England’s breath -
“So - many of them, so - I didn’t know what to do- Oh God -”
So warm, finally, confession feeling so good -
“So scared - a-AAH!”
And so suddenly, it was all over.
“You came,” said England, stating the obvious, with the white proof dripping from his hand to the chair.
“…Yeah.”
“So soon.”
“…I…”
“God, you really are a virgin,” said England. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and began wiping the cum off of his hand.
“We can still… you know… if you want…” said America, still breathless, the flush in his cheeks rising again, this time in embarrassment.
“Mmn. No, you’re probably not up to doing you know now.” said England, standing up. He handed the handkerchief to America.
Still red, America began cleaning himself off, still feeling a dull, pleasant twinge as he did. “I’m sorry-”
“That’s quite alright. We’ll just have to continue your education at a later date.”
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(dare we ask for a continuation?)
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You win so much for that reference. *loves on the Ping-Pong*
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And what is the ping-pong joke?
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ping_pong_show
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ping_Pong_Diplomacy
America and China really did play actual table tennis in the seventies.
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Ahahaha. Cool! I seem to remember that. kinda cute!
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You have totally just made my day. <333 That was cute and breathless.
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