Re: Sharing 2/?
anonymous
July 4 2009, 08:52:24 UTC
America didn't know how much more of Canada's teasing he could take. He was already so hard it was driving him mad, and Canada wouldn't take his damn hoodie off!
Canada just kept sucking at the skin of his neck, his chest, his stomach; kept refusing to show enough skin; kept refusing to touch him or let him do it himself.
He felt sticky from all the syrup involved, and slick with sweat. His legs were twitching, and his back kept arching with need, but Canada, who was surprisingly strong, held him down.
He had finally convinced his northern brother to remove his pants with a few well-placed 'oh's and 'Matt's, but the hoodie fell to his thighs. Damn hoodie.
Damn Canada, refusing him something like this.
Maybe if he tried a bit harder, Canada would do something other than toy with him. Before he had decided on what molestable look would have the best effect, Canada's hand closed around his other head.
He mewled despite himself and tried to hide his rose blush.
"Al," Canada said huskily, sending shivers up America's spine. "Look at me."
He did. And he didn't know whether to celebrate or regret the shivers. Canada's expression was unlike any he had ever seen on the boy's face, hot and hungry and in control. He didn't like being dominated, but damn was Canada good at it.
"I'm...ah...looking at you, Matt..."
He couldn't keep his eyes open while Canada was fondling him so.
And all of a sudden he stopped, and America wanted it so badly--wanted him so badly--that it hurt, and he whimpered for him, and they both knew that Canada had won.
"You're so pretty like this, Al," Canada chuckled.
Canada laughed softly, stealing another kiss before sliding experimentally in. America groaned, and at first he thought he had hurt his brother, but the legs wrapped encouragingly around his waist told him otherwise.
He pulled out slowly, relishing the whine it dragged from America, and pushed in a little farther. They inhaled through their teeth in unison, and he pulled out again, pushed in farther, and repeated the process, gaining speed until he was fully sheathed, and they found a rhythm.
Realizing that the friction might not be enough for his brother, Canada returned his hand to America's abandoned length, and rocked and storked and sighed and--
And then America was screaming his name and shaking and sobbing because it was just so good. He lay there on Canada's floor, filled and spent and so very tired.
Canada cleaned them off quickly, and returned with a blanket. He curled up next to America, who was already dozing, and smiled at him before kissing his cheek. And the last thing America thought about before he gave in to exhaustion was how sore he would be later on. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Hope this is what you wanted, OP-san!
Canada just kept sucking at the skin of his neck, his chest, his stomach; kept refusing to show enough skin; kept refusing to touch him or let him do it himself.
He felt sticky from all the syrup involved, and slick with sweat. His legs were twitching, and his back kept arching with need, but Canada, who was surprisingly strong, held him down.
He had finally convinced his northern brother to remove his pants with a few well-placed 'oh's and 'Matt's, but the hoodie fell to his thighs. Damn hoodie.
Damn Canada, refusing him something like this.
Maybe if he tried a bit harder, Canada would do something other than toy with him. Before he had decided on what molestable look would have the best effect, Canada's hand closed around his other head.
He mewled despite himself and tried to hide his rose blush.
"Al," Canada said huskily, sending shivers up America's spine. "Look at me."
He did. And he didn't know whether to celebrate or regret the shivers. Canada's expression was unlike any he had ever seen on the boy's face, hot and hungry and in control. He didn't like being dominated, but damn was Canada good at it.
"I'm...ah...looking at you, Matt..."
He couldn't keep his eyes open while Canada was fondling him so.
And all of a sudden he stopped, and America wanted it so badly--wanted him so badly--that it hurt, and he whimpered for him, and they both knew that Canada had won.
"You're so pretty like this, Al," Canada chuckled.
"Yeah, yeah, okay, whatevahjustfuckme."
"Eh? Sorry?"
"I said fuck me! Matt, please fuck me. Please."
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"Yes! OhGodMatthewstopteasingmealreadyImgunnadie."
Canada laughed softly, stealing another kiss before sliding experimentally in. America groaned, and at first he thought he had hurt his brother, but the legs wrapped encouragingly around his waist told him otherwise.
He pulled out slowly, relishing the whine it dragged from America, and pushed in a little farther. They inhaled through their teeth in unison, and he pulled out again, pushed in farther, and repeated the process, gaining speed until he was fully sheathed, and they found a rhythm.
Realizing that the friction might not be enough for his brother, Canada returned his hand to America's abandoned length, and rocked and storked and sighed and--
And then America was screaming his name and shaking and sobbing because it was just so good. He lay there on Canada's floor, filled and spent and so very tired.
Canada cleaned them off quickly, and returned with a blanket. He curled up next to America, who was already dozing, and smiled at him before kissing his cheek. And the last thing America thought about before he gave in to exhaustion was how sore he would be later on.
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Hope this is what you wanted, OP-san!
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Glad you enjoyed? ^///^;
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THIS IS PERFECT.
YOU ARE A GOD.
THANK YOU! THANK YOU!
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She's flattered, however, and overjoyed that you like it!
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*hands a packet of Phoenix Downs*
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