Desires (part one)
Hungary didn’t really want a penis.
Certainly, that fateful day when her breasts grew to a size that even she could not ascribed as being manly in the least, as well as the sudden leakage of blood from places she’d pretended weren’t a woman’s, she was extremely distraught. But to be honest, it wasn’t quite so much that she didn’t get to have a penis, so much as she was never going to be a man.
Though she did have to admit that when Prussia could just wonder over into the bushes to do his business, there was a twinge of jealousy. It was just so much easier that way.
Other than that though, the issue of her genitalia was, rather, a nonissue. She continued to wear pants and fight and swear and simply in general cause nothing but raucous. What she had in her pants didn’t stop her from getting what she wanted.
That was until puberty suddenly threw her libido into action. That, well that was just the icing on the cake.
The other girls would giggle and sit around talking about how they wanted to be whisked away to some romantic cottage somewhere upon their wedding night, with their lover taking full control and pleasing her until he was spent. Or other times, if they were in for something a little more dangerous, about some rouge coming and simply throwing her onto whatever surface was available and having his way with her. Or of course there was the occasional gal who simply wanted to lay back and do it the way it was meant to be done, woman on her back and man going to town in her until he came, and they would within the year have a new child.
Which was fine, Hungary supposed. Certainly at times she had some of those fantasies herself, though the majority tended towards the devilish rouge scenario.
But what she really, truly wanted was something that she couldn’t even really make into a real fantasy; it was biologically impossible.
More than anything, when her libido would rise and she would feel warm and tingly, she just wanted to get some man beneath her and thrust into him.
That of course is where the penis was supposed to come in.
Oh how she would mutter about it when at night, when she would pleasure herself and get so close, her fantasy self would finally just flip the man of her dreams over and proceed to attempt to thrust into him. And, every time, even in her fantasy she could not. That always ruined her mood, and she would curse and roll over, willing her sexual organs to just shut up because she didn’t feel like finishing anymore.
Every other time she would touch herself, the fantasy would turn that way. This eventually left her a very sexually dissatisfied teenager.
It wasn’t as though she did not appreciate being a woman. No, after her initial frustrations with realizing she would never grow up to be a man, she slowly came to terms with it. Hell, when she first discovered the pleasure a woman could gain from being fondled and stroked down there, she gave a quick prayer of thanks to God for giving her something that was so very wonderful. And then proceeded to lock her chamber door and exploit it to the best of her abilities.
Hungary wondered if this was her problem, ultimately. Maybe she could not go that extra step to add the penis in her fantasies because her love of her own body was too great. Or, maybe, it was simply that she was so aware of her body that it would just seem ridiculous to go the extra mile.
For the love of God she was a woman, her desire to thrust be damned.
And so she went on, slightly sexually frustrated but nevertheless none the worse off. So she couldn’t talk to the other girls about her deepest sexual desires. So she sometimes wondered what was wrong with her. And so, alright, so she may never be able to fill that small void in her libido.
It was alright. Until the day she fell in love with Austria.
True, she had grown up with the boy, so it wasn’t anything like love at first sight. It was more that she always liked him, and one day found that she also liked him physically. Specifically, the day she had stumbled upon him on one of the rare occasions that he let his prim and properness be put aside and let Prussia lead him off to do something very un-sophisticated.
They had gone to a small lake in the woods and were swimming. It was pure luck that Hungary stumbled upon them on her daily walk. At first it was like any other day, and she wondered to herself how odd it was that for once they weren’t trying to strangle each other. Then she giggled as Prussia proceeded to tackle Austria, causing the water to splash and move and the two boys created a general cacophony of noise.
But then when Austria freed and righted himself, looking flustered and flushed and pulling his drenched trousers up to a more respectable height, it was like a jolt of fire to his stomach.
Austria was gorgeous.
Hungary wanted nothing more than to race down at that very moment, ripping her own clothes off as she went, throw her arms around him, and kiss him until they both died for lack of air, both half naked and grasping at each other furiously.
And then Prussia came up beside him, slinging his arm around Austria’s shoulders and taunting him.
Prussia was also quite fetching.
Before she could stop herself, Hungary could make out the shape of his manhood by how the wet trousers fell there, and started to replay the fantasy in her mind, only this time Prussia took her place, and by the end was thrusting furiously into the other.
And oh god, how desperately she wanted Austria against her, touching her, in her, and yet of how she wanted Austria to be fucked like he had never been before.
The two simply couldn’t coincide, and in her mottled state of conflicting desires and newly blossoming affections and feeling very hot and bothered over all, she ran off. Hungary knew the two became aware of her presence as she fled; Prussia’s cackling and calling to her to join them was quite the indicator of that. But she did not stop, not for a moment.
Not until she was in her room, thrown against her bed, trying her best to ignore the rising heat in both her face and her sex.
Hungary was certain that she was not the only one who was looking forward to their marriage. Since that day in the woods she noticed how Austria looked at her, how he would watch her until their eyes met, and would then go very still and turn a most adorable shade of pink as he looked away. And every so often there would be Prussia, smirking and whispering to him what Hungary was certain were dirty things, and Austria would turn even redder and glower at him. It went on for decades. It only grew worse when she became his maid and they lived in the same house together, but never the same bed.
The night before the wedding there was a great ball and Hungary wore the most gorgeous dress that could be found. She loved it, absolutely loved how it sat on her hips, skimmed her small waist, pushed up and out her unmistakable well endowed chest. Certainly, she still liked to wear pants every once in a while when no one was looking, but Lord how she loved a beautiful dress.
However, her joy over her dress was overcast by the flush that grew on Austria’s face as they danced, and how pointedly he tried to look everywhere but at her cleavage, and eventually his stammered excuse before escaping to some dark corner somewhere, no doubt hoping that in their dancing she had somehow managed to miss his arousal.
Hungary hadn’t of course. Even if she had, she would have been tipped off by how Prussia was laughing for the first time that evening, practically doubled over and almost crying with how greatly the scene had tickled his funny bone.
Truth be told, she loved it. When he returned some twenty minutes later, she did her best to keep from smirking as she brushed her breast against his chest as she leant into him closely, whispering into his ear asking if he was alright, or if they should go outside for some fresh air, the two of them, alone.
This time Austria didn’t even try to make an excuse as he made his escape, and Prussia had to sit down he was laughing so hard.
He did not return until much later this time, but the two times in one hour seemed to be enough as he did not need to excuse himself again. Austria smiled at her as they danced again, and with just a slight blush on his cheeks told her that she looked beautiful. When she laughed and said that really, any girl could look beautiful in the dress she wore, he looked taken aback and quickly shook his head.
“No,” he said, and leaned in close, his brow almost touching hers. Austria’s voice was barely a whisper, but he was so close she could practically feel the words against her lips. “What I mean is, I… I have always thought you were beautiful.”
With the end of the song, Hungary was now the one stammering as she excused herself.
The next day they were wed. They were both desperate the whole day long, clenching at their clothes and chewing on their lips throughout the wedding ceremony and the ball afterwards. Neither attempted a dance, and in fact seemed to try to avoid the other as much as possible. Hungary was constantly adjusting her clothing. Austria was constantly pulling at his collar.
Finally, Hungary found it was late enough to excuse herself. She glanced over at Austria who was glancing over at her, and when he turned his head she knew he was excusing himself as well, no doubt as quickly as was possible while still being polite. Luckily for him, while not at the wedding, Prussia had shown up at the reception and hurried along the process, winking and pushing Austria towards the door.
But she didn’t wait for him there, as that would make it garishly clear why they were excusing themselves. Everyone knew, but it was still best to at least pretend for the sake of decency.
To be honest, she only did it for him. Hungary knew that was what he wanted. If she were to have had her way, as soon as the Priest pronounced them wed she would have dragged Austria from the altar and straight to their new bedroom. But Austria liked to do things the way they should be done, and she was fine with that. She loved him for it.
And so she walked maybe twenty feet in front of him, the two of them making their way up the stairs and down the hall. The closer they got, the faster their pace. It reached the point where Austria had to jog to catch up with her as they closed in on their destination, opening the door for her and bowing slightly as she walked through the threshold.
Austria closed the door behind them and they stared at one another, both flushed and no little bit anxious and desperate and filled with pent up lust and they knew. There were to be no excuses here.
As he pulled her close and crushed his lips against hers, Hungary knew this was all she needed. Austria was the man and she was the woman and she loved it. She loved it as he became flustered with how to remove her dress. She loved it as she did it for him and he stared at her naked body as if he would die should he ever have to tear his eyes from it. She loved it as he slowly touched her, explored her, only slow for fear and ignorance. She loved it as he noted how she reacted when he touched the right places.
She loved it when she grabbed his face and kissed him passionately, pulling him down with her onto the bed, and finally, finally, he was inside her and thrusting and moaning in her ear, and somewhere along the way his clothes were gone and she clung to his skin, and she cried out his name as she came, and he was quick behind her, and-
Hungary loved it when, as they lay there in the haze of what had transpired, Austria caressed her cheek, and again told her she was beautiful.
For that first year of their marriage, she had all but forgotten her teenage frustrations. For the first time in her life, Hungary was like the other girls. All she wanted was Austria. She wanted him to hold her and kiss her and make love to her. Certainly, she loved to touch him and taste him and feel him back. Once every couple of times she liked to be on top of him, controlling their love making. But what woman wouldn’t want to?
With time, she grew antsy though. It took her a month to finally work up the courage to push a finger inside him while she took him inside her mouth, and Austria was certainly startled by the sudden intrusion. But he made no action to question it until they were both sated and laying in bed. And even then, he did not object, but rather asked her why.
No one had ever asked that before. Admittedly, she had never done it before, and she never told the other girls about her deeper desires. But she never felt comfortable with it.
But as she slowly and timidly made her way through explaining her peculiar desires, she grew relaxed and drew closer to her husband. All tension in her body was gone when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, and urged her to continue. When she finally finished, she looked up at his eyes and smiled at him.
“I’ve never told anyone about that before.”
“I can see why.” Hungary grew red in the face and unconsciously pulled away just a hair. But just as quickly Austria pulled her back, and quickly stammered, “N-not that it’s something to be ashamed of! Rather, I… well, it would take quite a bit of trust to tell someone about that. Some people might take it the wrong way.”
“Do you?”
“No, not at all. I happen to share that particular urge, as you may have noticed from all our love making.” Hungary laughed at that, snuggling close. Austria thought for a moment before smiling and kissing her forehead gently. “I’m glad you trust me with your secret.”
“As am I.” She paused, and just as she thought he was about to drift into sleep a smirk pulled at her lips.
“Was it good?”
Austria slowly opened his eyes and looked at her blankly.
“Well, was it? Did it feel good when I fingered your--”
“E-Elizaveta!” Austria stammered, going red in the face. Hungary giggled but kept her eyes locked on his. He let out a great sigh. “I… yes. And,” he added, interrupting her as she opened her mouth to question him further, “yes, if you like that sort of thing, I do not see how any gentleman could refuse you that. I only want to make you happy.”
Those words along with the soft, loving smile that had settled on his lips were enough to convince Hungary that perhaps sleep could wait another hour.
Or two.
And her husband kept his word. Over the next year she continued to experiment, finding that she really did love fingering Austria almost as much as she loved to be fingered herself. Hungary loved to watch him squirm, to watch him blush, to have him at her mercy. But what she quickly found was that it wasn’t just that. More often than not she used other ways to please him, and ultimately loved any way to have him practically begging for more.
But other times she wanted just a bit more than that. And those were the times she would prod and push into him, grasping at any sort of action that could fill that deep desire.
And Austria let her and she loved him for that. Hungary always watched him, making sure there was no protest, no complaint. She dreaded the thought that she was forcing him into something he did not enjoy. She loved him for what he allowed her to do, but it was because of that love that she was afraid to do just that sometimes.
Nearing the end of that year the two lay in bed, side-by-side, kissing and touching one another after a long day. Hungary felt particularly feisty, kissing Austria for all she was worth, rubbing against him and moaning his name. He moaned in return, but then slowed down and when Hungary opened her eyes he was gnawing on his lip. Austria almost looked a little bit frustrated.
“Is something wrong?” Hungary asked. Caught by his wife, Austria opened his mouth, but took a moment before he could find the words.
“N-no, no I just… Well, that is, I w-wanted, or no, no, what I mean is--”
“Roderich, relax. What is it?” Austria sighed, took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and finally settled for staring at her collarbone.
“Well, I… I was wondering if you would, uh, well… you know what I mean, don’t you?” In truth, by this point Hungary knew just want he meant. But it was simply too wonderful an opportunity to let pass her by.
“Mmm, no, I don’t think I do. Tell me?” she purred, kissing his forehead and slowly resuming her light caresses against his chest. Austria shuddered and was stalk still, taking long and labored breaths. Hungary giggled. “Or, you could show me?”
Slowly he reached up his hand to grasp hers and just as slowly put them to his lips, pulling her slim fingers into his mouth and lavishing them with his tongue. Hungary shuddered and licked her lips. Once sufficiently moist he pulled her hand down his chest and across his side. It stilled now and then, and Austria would have to take a moment to collect himself and reconsider before continuing to pull the hand. Eventually it came to rest on his tailbone and he looked back up at her eyes, looking hopeful. The smile on her lips and the arch of her brow made it clear that that was not quite good enough. Hungary was teasing him, they both knew that, but both also reveled in it.
Austria slid her hand against his skin and pushed it down further until his wife’s soft finger pads came to rest on his entrance. He couldn’t help moaning.
“Elizaveta…”
Hungary loved to tease her husband, there was no doubt of that, but she could never ultimately refuse him. And so she gladly thrust her fingers into him, relishing in the sounds he made as she fingered him hard and fast. Austria released his hold on her hand and now placed it on her thigh, urging it up and over his hip. Hungary moved her pelvis towards him and felt him fill her.
And so they moved, Hungary thrusting her fingers into Austria as he moved his hips and thrust up into her.
When they reached their end and lay there in each other’s arms, Hungary grinned at Austria. “So, you really do like it, hmm?”
Austria let out an airy laugh as his face heated. “Yes, I suppose I really do. You’ll have to take it up with my wife, seeing as she is the one who made me this way.”
“Oh, she made you this way?”
“Well,” he started, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I suppose it would be better to say that she showed me something that I did not even know I wanted.”
“That’s better,” Hungary sighed, nuzzling into her pillow. “So, this wife of yours, is she… beautiful?”
Austria smiled and kissed her softly. “Oh yes. The most beautiful any man could ever hope to see.”
“You’re a lucky man I suppose then,” Hungary replied, “because that beauty is all yours.”
As the night grew long and they fell into slumber, Hungary’s heart felt so swelled she almost worried that it would burst.
Austria let her do as she pleased, yes, but he liked it. And that, well, that made her love him all the more.
And so their marriage continued. During the day she would dress nicely and do whatever it was she needed to do that day and occasionally beat off the stray Frenchman or Prussian who wondered in to bother her husband. As evening drew close she would slip into the piano room where Austria always was, playing beautiful music. And as the sun set they would crawl into bed; sometimes they were slow and gentle and made sweet love; other times, they could not wait to rip the clothes off the other in a mad dash towards climax; and still other times they would simply lay in bed, kiss good night, and fall to sleep.
It was nearly like heaven, Hungary was sure of it.
Nearly.
Notes:
1. The Austrian-Prussian War was in 1866 while the creation of Austria-Hungary (aka the marriage in Hetalia land) was in 1867.
2. Despite where this story seems and how I know it is going, there will be no use of strap-ons, so I apologize if you were looking for such. I decided against it because a) the history of strap-ons is rather unknown, seeing as it's a bit taboo, so I don't know how wide-spread or not it was in that area of Europe at the time, and even if it were, it would be rather rudimentary, and b) it just didn't fit with the story, or how I wanted it. So I have nothing against them being used by Hungary, have read it and liked it, but here it won't be done.
Certainly, that fateful day when her breasts grew to a size that even she could not ascribed as being manly in the least, as well as the sudden leakage of blood from places she’d pretended weren’t a woman’s, she was extremely distraught. But to be honest, it wasn’t quite so much that she didn’t get to have a penis, so much as she was never going to be a man.
Though she did have to admit that when Prussia could just wonder over into the bushes to do his business, there was a twinge of jealousy. It was just so much easier that way.
Other than that though, the issue of her genitalia was, rather, a nonissue. She continued to wear pants and fight and swear and simply in general cause nothing but raucous. What she had in her pants didn’t stop her from getting what she wanted.
That was until puberty suddenly threw her libido into action. That, well that was just the icing on the cake.
The other girls would giggle and sit around talking about how they wanted to be whisked away to some romantic cottage somewhere upon their wedding night, with their lover taking full control and pleasing her until he was spent. Or other times, if they were in for something a little more dangerous, about some rouge coming and simply throwing her onto whatever surface was available and having his way with her. Or of course there was the occasional gal who simply wanted to lay back and do it the way it was meant to be done, woman on her back and man going to town in her until he came, and they would within the year have a new child.
Which was fine, Hungary supposed. Certainly at times she had some of those fantasies herself, though the majority tended towards the devilish rouge scenario.
But what she really, truly wanted was something that she couldn’t even really make into a real fantasy; it was biologically impossible.
More than anything, when her libido would rise and she would feel warm and tingly, she just wanted to get some man beneath her and thrust into him.
That of course is where the penis was supposed to come in.
Oh how she would mutter about it when at night, when she would pleasure herself and get so close, her fantasy self would finally just flip the man of her dreams over and proceed to attempt to thrust into him. And, every time, even in her fantasy she could not. That always ruined her mood, and she would curse and roll over, willing her sexual organs to just shut up because she didn’t feel like finishing anymore.
Every other time she would touch herself, the fantasy would turn that way. This eventually left her a very sexually dissatisfied teenager.
It wasn’t as though she did not appreciate being a woman. No, after her initial frustrations with realizing she would never grow up to be a man, she slowly came to terms with it. Hell, when she first discovered the pleasure a woman could gain from being fondled and stroked down there, she gave a quick prayer of thanks to God for giving her something that was so very wonderful. And then proceeded to lock her chamber door and exploit it to the best of her abilities.
Hungary wondered if this was her problem, ultimately. Maybe she could not go that extra step to add the penis in her fantasies because her love of her own body was too great. Or, maybe, it was simply that she was so aware of her body that it would just seem ridiculous to go the extra mile.
For the love of God she was a woman, her desire to thrust be damned.
And so she went on, slightly sexually frustrated but nevertheless none the worse off. So she couldn’t talk to the other girls about her deepest sexual desires. So she sometimes wondered what was wrong with her. And so, alright, so she may never be able to fill that small void in her libido.
It was alright. Until the day she fell in love with Austria.
True, she had grown up with the boy, so it wasn’t anything like love at first sight. It was more that she always liked him, and one day found that she also liked him physically. Specifically, the day she had stumbled upon him on one of the rare occasions that he let his prim and properness be put aside and let Prussia lead him off to do something very un-sophisticated.
They had gone to a small lake in the woods and were swimming. It was pure luck that Hungary stumbled upon them on her daily walk. At first it was like any other day, and she wondered to herself how odd it was that for once they weren’t trying to strangle each other. Then she giggled as Prussia proceeded to tackle Austria, causing the water to splash and move and the two boys created a general cacophony of noise.
But then when Austria freed and righted himself, looking flustered and flushed and pulling his drenched trousers up to a more respectable height, it was like a jolt of fire to his stomach.
Austria was gorgeous.
Hungary wanted nothing more than to race down at that very moment, ripping her own clothes off as she went, throw her arms around him, and kiss him until they both died for lack of air, both half naked and grasping at each other furiously.
And then Prussia came up beside him, slinging his arm around Austria’s shoulders and taunting him.
Prussia was also quite fetching.
Before she could stop herself, Hungary could make out the shape of his manhood by how the wet trousers fell there, and started to replay the fantasy in her mind, only this time Prussia took her place, and by the end was thrusting furiously into the other.
And oh god, how desperately she wanted Austria against her, touching her, in her, and yet of how she wanted Austria to be fucked like he had never been before.
The two simply couldn’t coincide, and in her mottled state of conflicting desires and newly blossoming affections and feeling very hot and bothered over all, she ran off. Hungary knew the two became aware of her presence as she fled; Prussia’s cackling and calling to her to join them was quite the indicator of that. But she did not stop, not for a moment.
Not until she was in her room, thrown against her bed, trying her best to ignore the rising heat in both her face and her sex.
Hungary was certain that she was not the only one who was looking forward to their marriage. Since that day in the woods she noticed how Austria looked at her, how he would watch her until their eyes met, and would then go very still and turn a most adorable shade of pink as he looked away. And every so often there would be Prussia, smirking and whispering to him what Hungary was certain were dirty things, and Austria would turn even redder and glower at him. It went on for decades. It only grew worse when she became his maid and they lived in the same house together, but never the same bed.
The night before the wedding there was a great ball and Hungary wore the most gorgeous dress that could be found. She loved it, absolutely loved how it sat on her hips, skimmed her small waist, pushed up and out her unmistakable well endowed chest. Certainly, she still liked to wear pants every once in a while when no one was looking, but Lord how she loved a beautiful dress.
However, her joy over her dress was overcast by the flush that grew on Austria’s face as they danced, and how pointedly he tried to look everywhere but at her cleavage, and eventually his stammered excuse before escaping to some dark corner somewhere, no doubt hoping that in their dancing she had somehow managed to miss his arousal.
Hungary hadn’t of course. Even if she had, she would have been tipped off by how Prussia was laughing for the first time that evening, practically doubled over and almost crying with how greatly the scene had tickled his funny bone.
Truth be told, she loved it. When he returned some twenty minutes later, she did her best to keep from smirking as she brushed her breast against his chest as she leant into him closely, whispering into his ear asking if he was alright, or if they should go outside for some fresh air, the two of them, alone.
This time Austria didn’t even try to make an excuse as he made his escape, and Prussia had to sit down he was laughing so hard.
He did not return until much later this time, but the two times in one hour seemed to be enough as he did not need to excuse himself again. Austria smiled at her as they danced again, and with just a slight blush on his cheeks told her that she looked beautiful. When she laughed and said that really, any girl could look beautiful in the dress she wore, he looked taken aback and quickly shook his head.
“No,” he said, and leaned in close, his brow almost touching hers. Austria’s voice was barely a whisper, but he was so close she could practically feel the words against her lips. “What I mean is, I… I have always thought you were beautiful.”
With the end of the song, Hungary was now the one stammering as she excused herself.
The next day they were wed. They were both desperate the whole day long, clenching at their clothes and chewing on their lips throughout the wedding ceremony and the ball afterwards. Neither attempted a dance, and in fact seemed to try to avoid the other as much as possible. Hungary was constantly adjusting her clothing. Austria was constantly pulling at his collar.
Finally, Hungary found it was late enough to excuse herself. She glanced over at Austria who was glancing over at her, and when he turned his head she knew he was excusing himself as well, no doubt as quickly as was possible while still being polite. Luckily for him, while not at the wedding, Prussia had shown up at the reception and hurried along the process, winking and pushing Austria towards the door.
But she didn’t wait for him there, as that would make it garishly clear why they were excusing themselves. Everyone knew, but it was still best to at least pretend for the sake of decency.
To be honest, she only did it for him. Hungary knew that was what he wanted. If she were to have had her way, as soon as the Priest pronounced them wed she would have dragged Austria from the altar and straight to their new bedroom. But Austria liked to do things the way they should be done, and she was fine with that. She loved him for it.
And so she walked maybe twenty feet in front of him, the two of them making their way up the stairs and down the hall. The closer they got, the faster their pace. It reached the point where Austria had to jog to catch up with her as they closed in on their destination, opening the door for her and bowing slightly as she walked through the threshold.
Austria closed the door behind them and they stared at one another, both flushed and no little bit anxious and desperate and filled with pent up lust and they knew. There were to be no excuses here.
As he pulled her close and crushed his lips against hers, Hungary knew this was all she needed. Austria was the man and she was the woman and she loved it. She loved it as he became flustered with how to remove her dress. She loved it as she did it for him and he stared at her naked body as if he would die should he ever have to tear his eyes from it. She loved it as he slowly touched her, explored her, only slow for fear and ignorance. She loved it as he noted how she reacted when he touched the right places.
She loved it when she grabbed his face and kissed him passionately, pulling him down with her onto the bed, and finally, finally, he was inside her and thrusting and moaning in her ear, and somewhere along the way his clothes were gone and she clung to his skin, and she cried out his name as she came, and he was quick behind her, and-
Hungary loved it when, as they lay there in the haze of what had transpired, Austria caressed her cheek, and again told her she was beautiful.
For that first year of their marriage, she had all but forgotten her teenage frustrations. For the first time in her life, Hungary was like the other girls. All she wanted was Austria. She wanted him to hold her and kiss her and make love to her. Certainly, she loved to touch him and taste him and feel him back. Once every couple of times she liked to be on top of him, controlling their love making. But what woman wouldn’t want to?
With time, she grew antsy though. It took her a month to finally work up the courage to push a finger inside him while she took him inside her mouth, and Austria was certainly startled by the sudden intrusion. But he made no action to question it until they were both sated and laying in bed. And even then, he did not object, but rather asked her why.
No one had ever asked that before. Admittedly, she had never done it before, and she never told the other girls about her deeper desires. But she never felt comfortable with it.
But as she slowly and timidly made her way through explaining her peculiar desires, she grew relaxed and drew closer to her husband. All tension in her body was gone when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, and urged her to continue. When she finally finished, she looked up at his eyes and smiled at him.
“I’ve never told anyone about that before.”
“I can see why.” Hungary grew red in the face and unconsciously pulled away just a hair. But just as quickly Austria pulled her back, and quickly stammered, “N-not that it’s something to be ashamed of! Rather, I… well, it would take quite a bit of trust to tell someone about that. Some people might take it the wrong way.”
“Do you?”
“No, not at all. I happen to share that particular urge, as you may have noticed from all our love making.” Hungary laughed at that, snuggling close. Austria thought for a moment before smiling and kissing her forehead gently. “I’m glad you trust me with your secret.”
“As am I.” She paused, and just as she thought he was about to drift into sleep a smirk pulled at her lips.
“Was it good?”
Austria slowly opened his eyes and looked at her blankly.
“Well, was it? Did it feel good when I fingered your--”
“E-Elizaveta!” Austria stammered, going red in the face. Hungary giggled but kept her eyes locked on his. He let out a great sigh. “I… yes. And,” he added, interrupting her as she opened her mouth to question him further, “yes, if you like that sort of thing, I do not see how any gentleman could refuse you that. I only want to make you happy.”
Those words along with the soft, loving smile that had settled on his lips were enough to convince Hungary that perhaps sleep could wait another hour.
Or two.
And her husband kept his word. Over the next year she continued to experiment, finding that she really did love fingering Austria almost as much as she loved to be fingered herself. Hungary loved to watch him squirm, to watch him blush, to have him at her mercy. But what she quickly found was that it wasn’t just that. More often than not she used other ways to please him, and ultimately loved any way to have him practically begging for more.
But other times she wanted just a bit more than that. And those were the times she would prod and push into him, grasping at any sort of action that could fill that deep desire.
And Austria let her and she loved him for that. Hungary always watched him, making sure there was no protest, no complaint. She dreaded the thought that she was forcing him into something he did not enjoy. She loved him for what he allowed her to do, but it was because of that love that she was afraid to do just that sometimes.
Nearing the end of that year the two lay in bed, side-by-side, kissing and touching one another after a long day. Hungary felt particularly feisty, kissing Austria for all she was worth, rubbing against him and moaning his name. He moaned in return, but then slowed down and when Hungary opened her eyes he was gnawing on his lip. Austria almost looked a little bit frustrated.
“Is something wrong?” Hungary asked. Caught by his wife, Austria opened his mouth, but took a moment before he could find the words.
“N-no, no I just… Well, that is, I w-wanted, or no, no, what I mean is--”
“Roderich, relax. What is it?” Austria sighed, took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and finally settled for staring at her collarbone.
“Well, I… I was wondering if you would, uh, well… you know what I mean, don’t you?” In truth, by this point Hungary knew just want he meant. But it was simply too wonderful an opportunity to let pass her by.
“Mmm, no, I don’t think I do. Tell me?” she purred, kissing his forehead and slowly resuming her light caresses against his chest. Austria shuddered and was stalk still, taking long and labored breaths. Hungary giggled. “Or, you could show me?”
Slowly he reached up his hand to grasp hers and just as slowly put them to his lips, pulling her slim fingers into his mouth and lavishing them with his tongue. Hungary shuddered and licked her lips. Once sufficiently moist he pulled her hand down his chest and across his side. It stilled now and then, and Austria would have to take a moment to collect himself and reconsider before continuing to pull the hand. Eventually it came to rest on his tailbone and he looked back up at her eyes, looking hopeful. The smile on her lips and the arch of her brow made it clear that that was not quite good enough. Hungary was teasing him, they both knew that, but both also reveled in it.
Austria slid her hand against his skin and pushed it down further until his wife’s soft finger pads came to rest on his entrance. He couldn’t help moaning.
“Elizaveta…”
Hungary loved to tease her husband, there was no doubt of that, but she could never ultimately refuse him. And so she gladly thrust her fingers into him, relishing in the sounds he made as she fingered him hard and fast. Austria released his hold on her hand and now placed it on her thigh, urging it up and over his hip. Hungary moved her pelvis towards him and felt him fill her.
And so they moved, Hungary thrusting her fingers into Austria as he moved his hips and thrust up into her.
When they reached their end and lay there in each other’s arms, Hungary grinned at Austria. “So, you really do like it, hmm?”
Austria let out an airy laugh as his face heated. “Yes, I suppose I really do. You’ll have to take it up with my wife, seeing as she is the one who made me this way.”
“Oh, she made you this way?”
“Well,” he started, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I suppose it would be better to say that she showed me something that I did not even know I wanted.”
“That’s better,” Hungary sighed, nuzzling into her pillow. “So, this wife of yours, is she… beautiful?”
Austria smiled and kissed her softly. “Oh yes. The most beautiful any man could ever hope to see.”
“You’re a lucky man I suppose then,” Hungary replied, “because that beauty is all yours.”
As the night grew long and they fell into slumber, Hungary’s heart felt so swelled she almost worried that it would burst.
Austria let her do as she pleased, yes, but he liked it. And that, well, that made her love him all the more.
And so their marriage continued. During the day she would dress nicely and do whatever it was she needed to do that day and occasionally beat off the stray Frenchman or Prussian who wondered in to bother her husband. As evening drew close she would slip into the piano room where Austria always was, playing beautiful music. And as the sun set they would crawl into bed; sometimes they were slow and gentle and made sweet love; other times, they could not wait to rip the clothes off the other in a mad dash towards climax; and still other times they would simply lay in bed, kiss good night, and fall to sleep.
It was nearly like heaven, Hungary was sure of it.
Nearly.
Notes:
1. The Austrian-Prussian War was in 1866 while the creation of Austria-Hungary (aka the marriage in Hetalia land) was in 1867.
2. Despite where this story seems and how I know it is going, there will be no use of strap-ons, so I apologize if you were looking for such. I decided against it because a) the history of strap-ons is rather unknown, seeing as it's a bit taboo, so I don't know how wide-spread or not it was in that area of Europe at the time, and even if it were, it would be rather rudimentary, and b) it just didn't fit with the story, or how I wanted it. So I have nothing against them being used by Hungary, have read it and liked it, but here it won't be done.