FAIL FILL IS FAIL
anonymous
July 19 2009, 15:09:16 UTC
Fail!Anon here. I love Romano. But this is a fail fill.
... my recaptcha says suckled antipornography. D| I KNOW I SUCK AT PORN SHUT UP.
---
Lovino didn't see why he hadn't thought of this before. Granted, he couldn't see right now because he had clenched his eyes shut, but damnit whatever. All that mattered as that he was so fucking close and he couldn't recall jacking off ever feeling this amazing.
The Italian lay on his back on Antonio's bed, and was dressed in only his birthday suit. A basket of tomatoes was overturned on the floor, and Lovino was urgently and roughly pumping his member. His hands were calloused, and he hadn't used any lotion, but he liked his sex rough (so his masturbation would be similar.)
His hand trailed over his chest, ghosting over his sides and stomach. The hand made its way to his nipple and all Lovino could say was 'Antonio, Antonio'. The tomatoes were really genius; they smelled just like the bastard. Oh fuck, he was going to come.
He stopped the ministrations on his cazzo, and he started slurping on his fingers in earnest. Twisting the hardened nub, he gasped as the pain in his chest and as the fingers started to rub them as if soothing them.
When his fingers had been become sufficiently wet, he reached down behind himself and forcefully pushed two fingers in, enjoying the resistance and slow hissing burn. He felt so fucking amazing; who knew the scent would do so much for him? He pumped the two fingers in once or twice, and then crooked them just right. Lovino moaned, spreading his legs wantonly.
His free hand left his chest and grabbed a tomato; he curled onto his side and continued thrusting the fingers into himself. Lovino brought the tomato to his cheek, breathing in that godly aroma. It really did smell just like Antonio, and as Lovi couldn't have Antonio, this was almost close to the real thing. The spicy tangy scent was driving him batshit, and he sped up the fingers. Almost. There. Close-close-close. He pressed the tomato closer, his hands sweaty around the round fruit.
"Doitsuuuuuuuuu~ here's my house, see~ let's get some pasta? Ve~"
Moments later, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, the fuming southern half of Italy stomped past the two with red pulp all over his hands, chest and face.
... my recaptcha says suckled antipornography. D| I KNOW I SUCK AT PORN SHUT UP.
---
Lovino didn't see why he hadn't thought of this before. Granted, he couldn't see right now because he had clenched his eyes shut, but damnit whatever. All that mattered as that he was so fucking close and he couldn't recall jacking off ever feeling this amazing.
The Italian lay on his back on Antonio's bed, and was dressed in only his birthday suit. A basket of tomatoes was overturned on the floor, and Lovino was urgently and roughly pumping his member. His hands were calloused, and he hadn't used any lotion, but he liked his sex rough (so his masturbation would be similar.)
His hand trailed over his chest, ghosting over his sides and stomach. The hand made its way to his nipple and all Lovino could say was 'Antonio, Antonio'. The tomatoes were really genius; they smelled just like the bastard. Oh fuck, he was going to come.
He stopped the ministrations on his cazzo, and he started slurping on his fingers in earnest. Twisting the hardened nub, he gasped as the pain in his chest and as the fingers started to rub them as if soothing them.
When his fingers had been become sufficiently wet, he reached down behind himself and forcefully pushed two fingers in, enjoying the resistance and slow hissing burn. He felt so fucking amazing; who knew the scent would do so much for him? He pumped the two fingers in once or twice, and then crooked them just right. Lovino moaned, spreading his legs wantonly.
His free hand left his chest and grabbed a tomato; he curled onto his side and continued thrusting the fingers into himself. Lovino brought the tomato to his cheek, breathing in that godly aroma. It really did smell just like Antonio, and as Lovi couldn't have Antonio, this was almost close to the real thing. The spicy tangy scent was driving him batshit, and he sped up the fingers. Almost. There. Close-close-close. He pressed the tomato closer, his hands sweaty around the round fruit.
"Doitsuuuuuuuuu~ here's my house, see~ let's get some pasta? Ve~"
Moments later, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, the fuming southern half of Italy stomped past the two with red pulp all over his hands, chest and face.
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tomatoes do smell sexy
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Fuck, I was listening to the Delicious Tomato song at the time. WHY? XDD;;;
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<333 Have some love, anon~ Thank you muchly~
reCaptcha: wankel the - I think captcha liked it too!
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