America was the next one. They had entered a relationship, and waited a while for the sex to come naturally. They stayed clothed throughout each others visits, and it amused England how relatively childlike the relationship for people who are centuries old. And as he lays in the dark of night in the cold bed in which two people lie, clad in only their underwear, he wonders how much longer it is going to be until he gets to push his hand underneath the elastic and feel the member that seems to lie dormant.
He tries to cheat, tries to get a glimpse. Accidentally walking in when America is showering, when he is getting changed, but he knows that it is not the flaccid state he would find it in that he wants, and it is when he changes his tactics he realises that America beats all of his expectations in terms of when he wakes in the morning. England curses his luck, and continues to try and change when he would wake up, on the off-chance that the teenage-like nation sleeping beside him would wake with an erection, but he had been so far unlucky. Maybe America was more sexually mature than England gave him for granted...
It is early spring, a few months after their relationship begins, that England finally gives up his restraint and pushes America against the door. He is visiting the bigger nation, trying to keep their long distance relationship going, but even kissing makes England rut his growing need against America, and for the first time, he feels a response. He feels their clothed cocks together, and England cannot lie; he is impressed. Never expecting his ex-colony to be how he would say... Packin' (it has been a while since England had caught up with the lexis of the new generation)?
They do not make it to the bedroom, and the first time England gets a glimpse of what America is hiding, it is still at the front door of the house. The Briton simply drops to his knees without a word, pulls the trousers and underwear down and takes it in his hand. He inspects it, looks for any flaws; visually, he seems perfect. The taste as he licks the vein on the underside is still the same, but the way he reacts to each breath on the muscle sends delighted shivers down England's spine. But as he finishes teasing America with his mouth, they find their way to his dining room table.
They first make love on the top of the table. America standing before it, England on his back once more. He tries to grip onto the material, but he simply cannot. He moves more than he remembered, becoming almost a doll for America to use, for America to move how he wants, and although he is being forced to draw out moans and cries of pleasure, he is able to hit the spot deep within England that makes him raise his back of the table and scratch at the smooth material that is waxed wood; something is just not enough.
At the next meeting, England looks to America, wondering what is missing. The sex satisfies him, by the end of his visits after the initial session, England is basically sucked dry of any bodily fluid that he can produce. They end up single two springs after, however, and France becomes aware with his talks with America that something has changed. The England that he had once had a casual fling with every once in a while, who refused to allow anybody inside him, was gone. Now replaced by a insatiable desire, and he knew there was never going to be anyone alive to fill that.
Whatever England got, there was never going to be enough.
So next time we'll be going to Canada, Russia and Germany... In more detail! Any suggestions for improvement?
Never Enough 1b/?
He tries to cheat, tries to get a glimpse. Accidentally walking in when America is showering, when he is getting changed, but he knows that it is not the flaccid state he would find it in that he wants, and it is when he changes his tactics he realises that America beats all of his expectations in terms of when he wakes in the morning. England curses his luck, and continues to try and change when he would wake up, on the off-chance that the teenage-like nation sleeping beside him would wake with an erection, but he had been so far unlucky. Maybe America was more sexually mature than England gave him for granted...
It is early spring, a few months after their relationship begins, that England finally gives up his restraint and pushes America against the door. He is visiting the bigger nation, trying to keep their long distance relationship going, but even kissing makes England rut his growing need against America, and for the first time, he feels a response. He feels their clothed cocks together, and England cannot lie; he is impressed. Never expecting his ex-colony to be how he would say... Packin' (it has been a while since England had caught up with the lexis of the new generation)?
They do not make it to the bedroom, and the first time England gets a glimpse of what America is hiding, it is still at the front door of the house. The Briton simply drops to his knees without a word, pulls the trousers and underwear down and takes it in his hand. He inspects it, looks for any flaws; visually, he seems perfect. The taste as he licks the vein on the underside is still the same, but the way he reacts to each breath on the muscle sends delighted shivers down England's spine. But as he finishes teasing America with his mouth, they find their way to his dining room table.
They first make love on the top of the table. America standing before it, England on his back once more. He tries to grip onto the material, but he simply cannot. He moves more than he remembered, becoming almost a doll for America to use, for America to move how he wants, and although he is being forced to draw out moans and cries of pleasure, he is able to hit the spot deep within England that makes him raise his back of the table and scratch at the smooth material that is waxed wood; something is just not enough.
At the next meeting, England looks to America, wondering what is missing. The sex satisfies him, by the end of his visits after the initial session, England is basically sucked dry of any bodily fluid that he can produce. They end up single two springs after, however, and France becomes aware with his talks with America that something has changed. The England that he had once had a casual fling with every once in a while, who refused to allow anybody inside him, was gone. Now replaced by a insatiable desire, and he knew there was never going to be anyone alive to fill that.
Whatever England got, there was never going to be enough.
So next time we'll be going to Canada, Russia and Germany... In more detail! Any suggestions for improvement?