“If anyone’s fucking anyone, it’s going to be me on top of you.” Arthur crept his way up the Frenchman’s body. As he looked him in the eyes, a smile couldn’t be held back. “You,” Arthur breathed, licking his lips, “is a helpless, drunk fool. I know about your Frenchmen, you’re used to your petty wine. Can’t handle real alcohol. Well, my luck.”
Francis blushed red in irritation. “Mon Cher, don’t tell me you-“
“- got you drunk to be able to do this? I’m no innocent lad.” Arthur sent him a drunken smile. It was clear he was pretty stoned himself. His eyes were swaying though focused on Francis’ face, his body was pink from being heated up with liquid. Francis’ slowly licked his lips.
“I think I’m in a better state to dominate than you, still,” Francis smiled, reaching a hand up to pet Arthur’s hair. The other growled and pushed it away.
“Don’t.” Arthur lowered his head to the French’s ear, whispering: “I want me in you. Around me. I want to see your sweaty face while you moan for the British Empire.”
Francis sucked in his lower lip, chewing slightly on it. “Fuck, Arthur, don-“
“Don’t what?” Arthur’s breath leaked of alcohol. Francis wrinkled his nose, but every thought got lost as Arthur reached down to grip his cock again. Francis gasped. Arthur smiled. “I think it’s time you gave up and just.. enjoyed.”
“I’m no bottom, Arthur,” he moaned, bucking the hips slightly.
“Really?”
“Re- aah!” Francis’ eyes went wide and blank. A finger slowly slid in him, bucking. Second finger, scissoring. Oh god. Three fingers, fucking. “F-fuck.” He closed his eyes, own fingers digging into the sheets.
“That’s a good boy,” Arthur whispered, slipping the fingers out with a wet sound before sliding in again, four fingers, stretching. With the other hand he pumped his own cock that was already dripping with pre-sperm. He slid the liquid around the angry-red head, down, making himself ready for what he’d been waiting for the whole evening.
Francis’ small moans didn’t make it easier for him to be patience.
Four fingers. In. Out. In. Out. Slip. Ready. He grabbed the Frenchman’s legs, nails digging in to the flesh, making him yelp. Arthur smirked. “You think this hurts? Save your groans for later, Francis.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Technically, as was he just doing any day work, he lifted the legs from the bed, placing himself between the spread legs. As he pressed the head of his cock to Francis’ entrance, the others hands went straight to his shoulders.
“You,” Francis hissed, “if this hurts, I’ll scratch your face to a” hic “bloody pulp!”
Arthur frowned and wrinkled the shoulders. “Hands off – with all the one-nighters you’ve had, you know how it feels,” he spat back. Francis sent him a death-glare, but then let the arms slip around Arthur’s neck instead, pulling him a little down.
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Shut up; Arthur knows how it's done (3/4)
(Anonymous) 2009-05-02 06:57 pm (UTC)(link)Francis blushed red in irritation. “Mon Cher, don’t tell me you-“
“- got you drunk to be able to do this? I’m no innocent lad.” Arthur sent him a drunken smile. It was clear he was pretty stoned himself. His eyes were swaying though focused on Francis’ face, his body was pink from being heated up with liquid. Francis’ slowly licked his lips.
“I think I’m in a better state to dominate than you, still,” Francis smiled, reaching a hand up to pet Arthur’s hair. The other growled and pushed it away.
“Don’t.” Arthur lowered his head to the French’s ear, whispering: “I want me in you. Around me. I want to see your sweaty face while you moan for the British Empire.”
Francis sucked in his lower lip, chewing slightly on it. “Fuck, Arthur, don-“
“Don’t what?” Arthur’s breath leaked of alcohol. Francis wrinkled his nose, but every thought got lost as Arthur reached down to grip his cock again. Francis gasped. Arthur smiled. “I think it’s time you gave up and just.. enjoyed.”
“I’m no bottom, Arthur,” he moaned, bucking the hips slightly.
“Really?”
“Re- aah!” Francis’ eyes went wide and blank. A finger slowly slid in him, bucking. Second finger, scissoring. Oh god. Three fingers, fucking. “F-fuck.” He closed his eyes, own fingers digging into the sheets.
“That’s a good boy,” Arthur whispered, slipping the fingers out with a wet sound before sliding in again, four fingers, stretching. With the other hand he pumped his own cock that was already dripping with pre-sperm. He slid the liquid around the angry-red head, down, making himself ready for what he’d been waiting for the whole evening.
Francis’ small moans didn’t make it easier for him to be patience.
Four fingers. In. Out. In. Out. Slip. Ready. He grabbed the Frenchman’s legs, nails digging in to the flesh, making him yelp. Arthur smirked. “You think this hurts? Save your groans for later, Francis.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Technically, as was he just doing any day work, he lifted the legs from the bed, placing himself between the spread legs. As he pressed the head of his cock to Francis’ entrance, the others hands went straight to his shoulders.
“You,” Francis hissed, “if this hurts, I’ll scratch your face to a” hic “bloody pulp!”
Arthur frowned and wrinkled the shoulders. “Hands off – with all the one-nighters you’ve had, you know how it feels,” he spat back. Francis sent him a death-glare, but then let the arms slip around Arthur’s neck instead, pulling him a little down.
“Fine, get over with it.”
“As you wish, sir.”
Re: Shut up; Arthur knows how it's done (3/4)
(Anonymous) 2009-05-06 11:08 am (UTC)(link)Fuck, anon, that's too hot~ *___*