Christen - Part Three
anonymous
July 16 2009, 04:30:43 UTC
“You cannot be crying?” The bed shifted as France sat next to him, movement lithe and purposeful. He urged Spain to look up at him, checking his face. There were no tears gleaming in Spain’s gaze, but he seemed just as lost. “Ma pauvre beauté. Forget all that troublesome business.” The long, golden fingers danced down his throat, to his chest, nails flicking against the pebbled nipples as France urged Spain to lean against him. He rubbed the brunette’s stomach in a gesture that was both soothing and seductive as Prussia rolled his eyes silently and removed Spain’s boots.
Spain pressed his face against the blonde’s neck, inhaling the complex scent of Francis; cigarette, wine, fresh bread and something faintly sweet that made him venture to lick France’s throat, seeking to identify that last elusive element. All he tasted was sweat, pure and salty that said as much as the hard cock pressing into his hip that France wanted him.
He felt hands remove everything until he was naked below the waist, bare but for the white shirt that gaped open after having been robbed off the buttons, and then rough material against his legs as Prussia joined on his other side. Typical Prussia. Still wanting to prove he was better by keeping his pants on. Spain was drawn down on the bed by four hands, one set more gentle than the other, but both with intent. Two pairs of very different eyes stared down at him.
Spain flushed. The color spread from his cheeks and down, vivid even under his sun-kissed skin. He pressed his thighs together again and France chuckled. His hand fluttered down to carefully push the Spaniard’s legs apart, causing Spain to shiver with want when his elegant fingers curved around his erection.
“How are we going to do this?” France asked Prussia as hand began moving patiently up and down Spain’s flesh, grip too slack to provide release. Madness would come before that. “Shall we flip a coin for it?”
“… and they call your people 'great lovers'.” Prussia scoffed, pants hanging low on his hips and undone so that he could hold himself in hand and mimic France’s rhythm. Spain let out a long breath. “Do I get a choice in this?” He asked, in a carefully measured tone that he sometimes used with Italy.
Immediately, he realized his mistake as both turned to look at him with interested expressions. France’s smile had grown into a full blown smirk. “Who do you want more, Espagne?”
Re: Christen - Part Three
anonymous
July 21 2009, 06:11:58 UTC
S... Spain! Bad! Not smart! There is no correct answer! Try your best to read them! (I guess you could try 'Romano?' and attempt to cute your way out of it, but you'd probably just make them angry, and that may result in no more threesome, so, so, gah, don't, say... say... um, gah!)
...Why am I talking to a fictional character. Eee, anon, continue, please! :D
Spain pressed his face against the blonde’s neck, inhaling the complex scent of Francis; cigarette, wine, fresh bread and something faintly sweet that made him venture to lick France’s throat, seeking to identify that last elusive element. All he tasted was sweat, pure and salty that said as much as the hard cock pressing into his hip that France wanted him.
He felt hands remove everything until he was naked below the waist, bare but for the white shirt that gaped open after having been robbed off the buttons, and then rough material against his legs as Prussia joined on his other side. Typical Prussia. Still wanting to prove he was better by keeping his pants on. Spain was drawn down on the bed by four hands, one set more gentle than the other, but both with intent. Two pairs of very different eyes stared down at him.
Spain flushed. The color spread from his cheeks and down, vivid even under his sun-kissed skin. He pressed his thighs together again and France chuckled. His hand fluttered down to carefully push the Spaniard’s legs apart, causing Spain to shiver with want when his elegant fingers curved around his erection.
“How are we going to do this?” France asked Prussia as hand began moving patiently up and down Spain’s flesh, grip too slack to provide release. Madness would come before that. “Shall we flip a coin for it?”
“… and they call your people 'great lovers'.” Prussia scoffed, pants hanging low on his hips and undone so that he could hold himself in hand and mimic France’s rhythm. Spain let out a long breath. “Do I get a choice in this?” He asked, in a carefully measured tone that he sometimes used with Italy.
Immediately, he realized his mistake as both turned to look at him with interested expressions. France’s smile had grown into a full blown smirk. “Who do you want more, Espagne?”
tbc!
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I look forward to seeing more :)
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Oh no, Spain, who to pick?
This anon thinks the both of them should go down on him at the same time. 8D *shot* Taking turns is fine too.
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I LOVE IT.
KEEP GOING. : DDDD <3
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...Why am I talking to a fictional character. Eee, anon, continue, please! :D
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