America’s hands drifted over the button of England’s fly, and then paused. “They sure are and they look damn fine.”
“I had no idea you liked them so much.”
“Neither did I. Haha! I couldn’t concentrate when you came back to the meeting. Those stuffy suits you usually wear don’t do you justice at all, honey. I mean, wow. I just wanna worship your legs.”
“Well,” he smirked, his eyes half-lidded, “I am in no way inclined to stop you, love.” The expression slowly became more predatory.” Besides, I really want out of these.” He shook his hips against the bed.
“Oh, I can help with that,” America grinned.
“Does America, the hero, want to save me from the dastardly tight jeans?” He chuckled, already unbuttoning his shirt and starting on America’s trousers.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He set back to unfastening the fly, pulling it open, brushing his hands around and underneath to push the jeans down. Nudging England to help him shimmy them off, his hands shook as they slid over bared skin. England also shivered when his heated skin was exposed to cool air.
“Mmmm,” America stared in rapt fascination at his legs, studying them in reverence.
“You have seen my legs before, America.” He prodded him with his knee.
“I know. But, I never realized how fucking gorgeous they are. How gorgeous you are.” He stroked up the length of one of his legs. “Your legs, they just keep on going and going.”
“I-I, um...you—“
England’s thoughts scattered when America lifted one of his legs in his hand, brushing his fingers across it, kissing his ankle. Supporting his knee, he let it rest on his shoulder and nuzzled the soft blonde hairs on his shin and calf, ghosted feather light kisses across his knee, licked the smooth flesh of his thigh.
“That...that tickles, git.” But, there was no venom in his voice, only a keening whines from burn building up in his groin.
America hoisted his other leg on to his shoulder with a kiss to that ankle—he hooked them together behind his neck—and bestowed the same attention to the other leg. Touching, tasting, stroking, nuzzling, adoring England’s legs in whatever ways that came to him. Ways that left England both loved and hungry for more. This wasn’t even foreplay, something that they frequently enjoyed at length, often to tease each other. It was as though America had become fixated, beyond erotic and lustful. Never before had they been this slow and intense. America was enjoying the sensuous pleasure of his body for its own sake, not as a means to arouse, though he had accomplished that as well, no doubt. He completely neglected either of their needs, and England didn’t want to come just from the attention to his legs.
This was worrisome. He applied a bit of pressure to America’s back with his heels. “Darling?”
America started at his voice and nipped at tender flesh on the underside of his thigh. “Hmmm?”
“Ah! Meri, are you alright, love?”
“Perfectly swell.” He smiled, contemplatively, like a man studying a piece of art.
“I wanted to make sure. You went all quiet. And you’ve been neglecting me.”
“Aw, babe! How can you say that?” His pout hit England in the gut and he immediately regretting his wording. “I’ve been loving on you this whole time.”
“Because.” He chose not to back down anyway, even though he was right.
“’Cause why?”
“I will not play this game, git.” He propped himself up on his elbows.
“Aw, I told you I wanted to worship your yummy, scrumptious legs.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“None of those other nations would’ve paid them attention like this.” His pout deepened and he nipped lightly at his thigh again to stress his point, speaking to England’s skin, his voice darkening. “They’d’ve just fucked you and called it a day. Each one of them.” He was right. Before the meeting was interrupted, America looked close to whisking England away anyway, without the excuse of escape. But, he was still being stubborn.
Sometimes You Have to Lose to Win 6/?
“I had no idea you liked them so much.”
“Neither did I. Haha! I couldn’t concentrate when you came back to the meeting. Those stuffy suits you usually wear don’t do you justice at all, honey. I mean, wow. I just wanna worship your legs.”
“Well,” he smirked, his eyes half-lidded, “I am in no way inclined to stop you, love.” The expression slowly became more predatory.” Besides, I really want out of these.” He shook his hips against the bed.
“Oh, I can help with that,” America grinned.
“Does America, the hero, want to save me from the dastardly tight jeans?” He chuckled, already unbuttoning his shirt and starting on America’s trousers.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He set back to unfastening the fly, pulling it open, brushing his hands around and underneath to push the jeans down. Nudging England to help him shimmy them off, his hands shook as they slid over bared skin. England also shivered when his heated skin was exposed to cool air.
“Mmmm,” America stared in rapt fascination at his legs, studying them in reverence.
“You have seen my legs before, America.” He prodded him with his knee.
“I know. But, I never realized how fucking gorgeous they are. How gorgeous you are.” He stroked up the length of one of his legs. “Your legs, they just keep on going and going.”
“I-I, um...you—“
England’s thoughts scattered when America lifted one of his legs in his hand, brushing his fingers across it, kissing his ankle. Supporting his knee, he let it rest on his shoulder and nuzzled the soft blonde hairs on his shin and calf, ghosted feather light kisses across his knee, licked the smooth flesh of his thigh.
“That...that tickles, git.” But, there was no venom in his voice, only a keening whines from burn building up in his groin.
America hoisted his other leg on to his shoulder with a kiss to that ankle—he hooked them together behind his neck—and bestowed the same attention to the other leg. Touching, tasting, stroking, nuzzling, adoring England’s legs in whatever ways that came to him. Ways that left England both loved and hungry for more. This wasn’t even foreplay, something that they frequently enjoyed at length, often to tease each other. It was as though America had become fixated, beyond erotic and lustful. Never before had they been this slow and intense. America was enjoying the sensuous pleasure of his body for its own sake, not as a means to arouse, though he had accomplished that as well, no doubt. He completely neglected either of their needs, and England didn’t want to come just from the attention to his legs.
This was worrisome. He applied a bit of pressure to America’s back with his heels. “Darling?”
America started at his voice and nipped at tender flesh on the underside of his thigh. “Hmmm?”
“Ah! Meri, are you alright, love?”
“Perfectly swell.” He smiled, contemplatively, like a man studying a piece of art.
“I wanted to make sure. You went all quiet. And you’ve been neglecting me.”
“Aw, babe! How can you say that?” His pout hit England in the gut and he immediately regretting his wording. “I’ve been loving on you this whole time.”
“Because.” He chose not to back down anyway, even though he was right.
“’Cause why?”
“I will not play this game, git.” He propped himself up on his elbows.
“Aw, I told you I wanted to worship your yummy, scrumptious legs.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“None of those other nations would’ve paid them attention like this.” His pout deepened and he nipped lightly at his thigh again to stress his point, speaking to England’s skin, his voice darkening. “They’d’ve just fucked you and called it a day. Each one of them.” He was right. Before the meeting was interrupted, America looked close to whisking England away anyway, without the excuse of escape. But, he was still being stubborn.