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hetalia_kink) wrote2012-06-03 02:47 pm
“Is it over yet? Is it over yet? Oh, GOD, please tell me it’s over!” she whispered furiously into the nape of his neck. But Russia was barely to grasp the meaning behind her words and respond. He had already noticed… them.
“Them” being America’s breasts, which were only a hair’s width away from touching his arm. While clinging to him, she had unintentionally pushed her tits close to Russia’s upper arm; embarrassment flooded him at being so close to such an intimate part of his America’s body and he pulled back slightly from her. He tried to focus on the opening scenes of the movie, but each time a door slammed shut without warning or something flew through the air on its own, America’s plump breasts, generously displayed by her thin tank top, pressed closer and closer. Warmth began to bloom in Russia’s skin and for the first time, he felt too hot in his long coat and scarf. With a hand that shook slightly, he pulled awkwardly at his scarf and loosened it before trying to focus on the movie and ignore the glorious tits within reach.
Trying to ignore America’s double D chest proved to be a pointless task. Barely even thirty seconds later, she squealed in terror and pressed herself and her chest right up against him. Russia’s mouth went dry and he nearly stopped breathing as he felt America’s breasts squish against him, the soft flesh molding around his arm. He was barely aware of a guttural moan of pleasure that escaped from his mouth, thankfully covered by another scream from the film.
It only got worse from there. America continued to push herself into Russia’s side as the movie progressed, her tits squishing deliciously around and against his bicep. To Russia’s embarrassment, his cock was making its appreciation of the contact fully known. He was breathing in harsh gasps punctuated by the moans he was trying to hold in, the sounds swallowed by the screams of America and the rest of the people in the theater. Russia couldn’t help but imagine what America would sound like screaming in pleasure while he fucked her thoroughly. His free hand was gripping the armrest, nearly snapping it in an effort to control himself and not shove America to the sticky floor of the theater and rip off that damn tank top and every other sorry article of clothing keeping him from America’s gorgeous chest.
His breaking point finally came when the adrenaline rush from the fright of the movie made America’s nipples harden. Even through several layers of cloth, he could feel the tiny, stiff bumps of flesh press up against his arm. A moan clawed its way through his clenched teeth and something in Russia’s mind snapped as the last of his control slowly drained away.
He was able to wait for the movie to finish. He was able to walk out of the theater with America and nod mindlessly as she chattered happily about the movie. But when he reached America’s car in the far corner of the parking lot, he opened the back door of her SUV and unceremoniously shoved her in.
“Russia, what the hell do you think you’re doing!” America snapped as her back slammed into the backseat. Russia paid no attention to her cry. He merely climbed in the car and shut the door behind him before he pounced.
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