Arthur reacts to this, faltering in his movement and arching his back, brushing his chest against Alfred’s and groaning helplessly as a third and fourth finger are pushed in without further warning. America flexes and wriggles his fingers within England, carefully watching the man’s face for signs of pain. England’s face is a blend of euphoria and the underlying tinge of pain. His mouth hangs agape, chest heaving as he twists his body unconsciously, adjusting to the sensation. When overt signs of pain die away, America removes his fingers and shifts England into a more comfortable position. America moves himself over England. Arthur lies splayed over the desk, his legs thrown and crossed over America’s hips, his arms wrapped loosely around Alfred’s shoulders.
The thick head of Alfred’s cock is nestled against England’s puckered entrance. In a single, fluid movement, America pushes himself completely inside England. Now there’s pain. England’s eyebrows knit together and he clenches his jaw at the sudden entrance. He lets out a low growl and throws his head back, eyes shut tight. America presses their lips together, smothering the snarls of pain slipping from England’s lips. England’s body is fighting to remove him. It’s tight and hot and it feels so good…
Fighting his more selfish desires, America stays still, waiting patiently for England to adjust. Deep inside England, his cock twitches. England’s green eyes flutter open and he lets out a hiss of pain. And America can’t take it any more. He begins mercilessly thrusting into England, hips snapping and jerking. There’s no rhythm to it, and England gasps through the agony, clawing America’s shoulders and grimacing, taking the pain.
America continues to bury himself again and again in England. And at last, England’s gasp of pain is replaced by a low, satisfied moan. America stops, completely taken aback by the foreign sound, and stares down at the man beneath him. England’s flushed face glares up at him, his eyes even greener against the pink of his skin. “Why did you stop, you prick?” England hisses. His pupils are dilated. “Typical. Just when it starts to feel goo—” Alfred swiftly kisses Arthur and begins thrusting into him again. Then Arthur is rolling his hips back in time with Alfred’s. Lips are brushing clumsily over each other, tongues dancing and saliva mixing. Alfred pushes eagerly into Arthur, lifting England’s hips off the desk and changing his angle, searching to impale him even further, to get in deeper and fill him completely. Arthur spasms beneath Alfred, tightening around his cock, egging him on and closer with soft moans and gasps of pleasure. His cock bounces between them as Alfred ploughs into him, riding him and groans in his ear.
They’re fucking. Their sweaty bodies are tangled in and around each other and moving in synch, completely caught up in each other and trying to get as close—closer!—as physically possible. They’re a single form, pushing in and against each other to achieve the same euphoria. Words are falling from Arthur’s lips, but none are distinguishable and they all slur together. And he’s coming. Hard. His back arches off the desk with a cry and semen erupts from his cock and slides between their bellies. And Alfred thrusts even harder and deeper into Arthur, riding out the man’s orgasm to achieve his own, revelling in the contracting heat around him. And then he too falls over the edge. He empties himself, groaning in ecstasy, cum shooting deep into the still-quaking Arthur.
They stay like this for quite some time.
It’s not quiet and it’s not numb. Everything is resonating, echoing and growing. Every breath, every gasp, every jumbled whisper, and hot touch is amplified. When America finally pulls his softening cock from England, the sensation of semen overflowing and slipping away is startling and Arthur lets out a choked sob and spasms. Alfred mumbles something unintelligible and clumsily kisses his eyelids and lips with a tenderness he did not know he had.
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Part 4/5
(Anonymous) 2009-03-06 06:43 am (UTC)(link)The thick head of Alfred’s cock is nestled against England’s puckered entrance. In a single, fluid movement, America pushes himself completely inside England. Now there’s pain. England’s eyebrows knit together and he clenches his jaw at the sudden entrance. He lets out a low growl and throws his head back, eyes shut tight. America presses their lips together, smothering the snarls of pain slipping from England’s lips. England’s body is fighting to remove him. It’s tight and hot and it feels so good…
Fighting his more selfish desires, America stays still, waiting patiently for England to adjust. Deep inside England, his cock twitches. England’s green eyes flutter open and he lets out a hiss of pain. And America can’t take it any more. He begins mercilessly thrusting into England, hips snapping and jerking. There’s no rhythm to it, and England gasps through the agony, clawing America’s shoulders and grimacing, taking the pain.
America continues to bury himself again and again in England. And at last, England’s gasp of pain is replaced by a low, satisfied moan. America stops, completely taken aback by the foreign sound, and stares down at the man beneath him. England’s flushed face glares up at him, his eyes even greener against the pink of his skin. “Why did you stop, you prick?” England hisses. His pupils are dilated. “Typical. Just when it starts to feel goo—” Alfred swiftly kisses Arthur and begins thrusting into him again. Then Arthur is rolling his hips back in time with Alfred’s. Lips are brushing clumsily over each other, tongues dancing and saliva mixing. Alfred pushes eagerly into Arthur, lifting England’s hips off the desk and changing his angle, searching to impale him even further, to get in deeper and fill him completely. Arthur spasms beneath Alfred, tightening around his cock, egging him on and closer with soft moans and gasps of pleasure. His cock bounces between them as Alfred ploughs into him, riding him and groans in his ear.
They’re fucking. Their sweaty bodies are tangled in and around each other and moving in synch, completely caught up in each other and trying to get as close—closer!—as physically possible. They’re a single form, pushing in and against each other to achieve the same euphoria. Words are falling from Arthur’s lips, but none are distinguishable and they all slur together. And he’s coming. Hard. His back arches off the desk with a cry and semen erupts from his cock and slides between their bellies. And Alfred thrusts even harder and deeper into Arthur, riding out the man’s orgasm to achieve his own, revelling in the contracting heat around him. And then he too falls over the edge. He empties himself, groaning in ecstasy, cum shooting deep into the still-quaking Arthur.
They stay like this for quite some time.
It’s not quiet and it’s not numb. Everything is resonating, echoing and growing. Every breath, every gasp, every jumbled whisper, and hot touch is amplified. When America finally pulls his softening cock from England, the sensation of semen overflowing and slipping away is startling and Arthur lets out a choked sob and spasms. Alfred mumbles something unintelligible and clumsily kisses his eyelids and lips with a tenderness he did not know he had.