"Mmm, very nice." He pulled the fork away and America swallowed hard. He tried again, this time cutting a strip of meat before offering it.
America became more and more flustered as the rest of his food disappeared in a similar manner, his face a delightful combination of embarrassment and arousal. America's britches weren't the only ones that were rather tight by the time his plate was empty.
"There," England said, placing the knife and fork back down on the table, "That wasn't so horrible, was it?" He frowned and clicked his tongue, "But don't you see what you've done? What food of mine was left must have grown cold by now. That's no good!" He ran a finger down America's arm, "And bad boys have to go straight to bed after supper."
America's face lit up like the sky at dawn and he bounced out of his seat, "Whelp, gotta follow the rules. Let's go get my punishment started." He winked at England, making him chuckle.
England allowed himself to be led back to his bedroom. The servants had started a fire in the fireplace a while ago and it was burning happily away, giving the room a rather pleasant warmth. England took a moment to be grateful for that. After all, the evenings were starting to get rather cold and they were about to be naked. America didn't give him much time to think on that, though, because as soon as the door shut he found himself being pressed against it and kissed hard.
"My, my, America," England said as soon as they pulled apart, "you're being rather assertive tonight."
"You made me sit through all that shit at the table," he huffed, "I'm not gonna wait anymore."
"Fair Enough," England said, running a hand through America's hair, "Then you're in charge. What do you plan on doing to me?"
America grinned and picked him up. England let out a squawk, but America didn't pay him any mind as he carried him over to the bed and set him down gently.
"Well, first off. I'm gonna get you out of these clothes."
He crawled over England and began to undo the buttons on his waistcoat from the top with his teeth as his hands began working on the bottom. England just lay back and watched in awe as the very same America who was usually so docile in the bedroom tore at his clothing with the ferocity of a wounded bear. He swallowed and felt himself blushing. If this was how America acted when felt he had been denied sex for too long, England would have to start denying him on a regular basis.
His shirt quickly received the same treatment as his waistcoat. He sat for a moment in order to shuck them along with his overcoat and throw them to the ground. America didn't even give him time to lie back before he was furiously undoing his breeches. England lifted his hips and allowed America to slide them off along with his hose. However, when America reached for his shift, England took his wrists to stop him.
"That's not fair, love," He said softly, "I refuse to be bare while you're still fully dressed."
He flipped them and straddled America's thighs. He slowly undid America's waistcoat, taking the time to make him squirm and grow even more aroused. By the time his shirt was undone America was writhing on the bed and mewling in a way that was high-pitched and desperate. It was time to indulge him, to finally give him the payoff he deserved.
"This is what you want, isn't it?" He placed his hand over America's groin and gave it a small squeeze. America positively keened at the contact. "Well don't worry, I'm not any better off than you." He said, gesturing to his own prominent erection, his shift doing absolutely nothing to hide it.
A Year of Surprises [5b/12]
"Mmm, very nice." He pulled the fork away and America swallowed hard. He tried again, this time cutting a strip of meat before offering it.
America became more and more flustered as the rest of his food disappeared in a similar manner, his face a delightful combination of embarrassment and arousal. America's britches weren't the only ones that were rather tight by the time his plate was empty.
"There," England said, placing the knife and fork back down on the table, "That wasn't so horrible, was it?" He frowned and clicked his tongue, "But don't you see what you've done? What food of mine was left must have grown cold by now. That's no good!" He ran a finger down America's arm, "And bad boys have to go straight to bed after supper."
America's face lit up like the sky at dawn and he bounced out of his seat, "Whelp, gotta follow the rules. Let's go get my punishment started." He winked at England, making him chuckle.
England allowed himself to be led back to his bedroom. The servants had started a fire in the fireplace a while ago and it was burning happily away, giving the room a rather pleasant warmth. England took a moment to be grateful for that. After all, the evenings were starting to get rather cold and they were about to be naked. America didn't give him much time to think on that, though, because as soon as the door shut he found himself being pressed against it and kissed hard.
"My, my, America," England said as soon as they pulled apart, "you're being rather assertive tonight."
"You made me sit through all that shit at the table," he huffed, "I'm not gonna wait anymore."
"Fair Enough," England said, running a hand through America's hair, "Then you're in charge. What do you plan on doing to me?"
America grinned and picked him up. England let out a squawk, but America didn't pay him any mind as he carried him over to the bed and set him down gently.
"Well, first off. I'm gonna get you out of these clothes."
He crawled over England and began to undo the buttons on his waistcoat from the top with his teeth as his hands began working on the bottom. England just lay back and watched in awe as the very same America who was usually so docile in the bedroom tore at his clothing with the ferocity of a wounded bear. He swallowed and felt himself blushing. If this was how America acted when felt he had been denied sex for too long, England would have to start denying him on a regular basis.
His shirt quickly received the same treatment as his waistcoat. He sat for a moment in order to shuck them along with his overcoat and throw them to the ground. America didn't even give him time to lie back before he was furiously undoing his breeches. England lifted his hips and allowed America to slide them off along with his hose. However, when America reached for his shift, England took his wrists to stop him.
"That's not fair, love," He said softly, "I refuse to be bare while you're still fully dressed."
He flipped them and straddled America's thighs. He slowly undid America's waistcoat, taking the time to make him squirm and grow even more aroused. By the time his shirt was undone America was writhing on the bed and mewling in a way that was high-pitched and desperate. It was time to indulge him, to finally give him the payoff he deserved.
"This is what you want, isn't it?" He placed his hand over America's groin and gave it a small squeeze. America positively keened at the contact. "Well don't worry, I'm not any better off than you." He said, gesturing to his own prominent erection, his shift doing absolutely nothing to hide it.
"I know England, but please. Please, I need you."