1920s AmeIta here! I hope OP enjoys it! (Man, was 1920s slang both strange and adorable-sounding. Especially with Al speaking it.)
/
Everything about it was intoxicating.
Alfred had wrapped an arm around his shoulders and spoken in soft tones into his ear as he pulled him close, telling him, “Don’t worry, there’s plenty of joints to have a good time at my place.”
In the same hushed tones, Alfred had spoken to a shopkeeper, who had looked around cautiously before leading them to a hidden door, one that opened up into what was undoubtedly-
“This is one of my favorite speakeasies,” Alfred said with a proud grin, pulling Feliciano in and gesturing to the broad, lively room, with a flourish. The room was lit in reds and yellows and oranges, creating a warm-looking environment in the busy chatter of the soundproofed room, and Feliciano turned to look at Alfred in awe. Hidden bars, flourishing parties, laughing and dancing people…
“Why is it called a speakeasy?” came the curious question, and Alfred grinned and laughed.
“You gotta ‘speak easy’ to get in,” was Alfred’s glib reply, eyes twinkling with mischief and playful pride.
Feliciano took another look around, and was stunned. The rich, dark stained oak tables and the beautifully carved, well-stocked bar, the well-dressed people, the warm lights and the comfortable, lively atmosphere… Even the music was foreign and new. There was a big band up on stage playing only the best kind of jazzy swing, music that Feliciano had never heard- but it was incredible.
It was intoxicating.
The music was meant to make you want to dance, to make you take your partners by the hands and hips and swing them about the dance floor in light-footed steps and clever acrobatics. Men in suits with their suit jackets discarded to the back of their chairs or atop their barstools, ties undone a little as they danced with the women, so beautifully dressed in flouncing, flowing dresses and fashionable scarves, cute and colorful pumps on their feet, such careful makeup on their faces.
Friends and lovers and businessmen all gathered together around the bar and tables, toasting each other with moonshine and wine and beer, all manner of booze being taken out from behind the bar counters, stirred up and served as if there wasn’t a Prohibition at all.
Literally intoxicating.
Feliciano had three glasses before Alfred finally coaxed him into dancing.
“I don’t know this kind of dance!” Feliciano had protested, laughing as Alfred hauled him along to the dance floor, the eager young blond so very determined to show Feliciano a wonderful night out. Alfred was dressed sharply, in a dark pinstripe suit with a matching stylish hat on his head- one that he’d quickly set down on the table upon entering the speakeasy. He shed his coat, leaving it on the back of his chair, and had just as easily gotten Feliciano out of his.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it! I’ll teach ya, it’s not hard at all, pal,” Alfred encouraged, reassuring him with another pat on the back and a great laugh. “Come on, loosen up that tie and collar a little. We’ll be dancin’ a good while before we head back.”
“Won’t people stare?” Feliciano asked on the way to the floor.
“Nah, everyone’s out to have a good time. No one will mind,” Alfred says, and his eyes are warm, such a warm deep blue, and Feliciano believes him.
Alfred’s hand is on his waist and the other is lacing his fingers together with Feliciano’s, and Feliciano knows he’s done for. Alfred grinning at him, speaking to him, lifting him up so easily and guiding him through the steps, the jumps and leaps and swings-
He was intoxicating.
He was strong and young and full of energy and vigor and potential, the land of opportunity in all his glory- in a Golden Era of prosperity. His words were sweet promises to those seeking freedom and second chances, his hands strong like the protection and safety his harbors could become, his heart beating strong with the work and spirits of millions bustling in the great expanse of his land.
Feliciano knew he was failing his people, god knows he’d tried, tried so hard to keep them, to better things, to make them stay. But it was too late, his country was broken and plagued with economic spirals and crashes and no money or opportunity to escape, and so his people were leaving him. Not just him, but him and his brother alike, both of them felt the loss, their people moving to America in hopes of a better life, in hopes that they would be able to get here what they could not in Italy.
But when Alfred’s hands held strong and fast to his, easily swinging him through the complicated dances and never letting him fall, never once betraying Feliciano’s trust- with laughter in his eyes and encouragement on his lips…
Feliciano knew they would be safe with Alfred.
Alfred’s hands were young, but larger than his, strong and firm, and they held him so gently.
“Dance with me more,” Feliciano said with a smile, trust in his eyes, warmth in his touch. He leaned into Alfred and was shameless, unafraid of the people around them. He asked Alfred to dance with him.
So Alfred did.
The night was young.
/
Maybe the booze loosened them up more than expected; maybe the jazzy music in Alfred’s penthouse just set the right mood. Maybe they’d stayed out too late and gotten drunk on the energy of the nightlife around them, maybe they’d been a little too close, touched each other just the right ways while they danced to get each other fired up.
Regardless of how they ended up there, the pair were near-naked in Alfred’s bed, Alfred pinning Feliciano right down onto the mattress while he kissed him, passionate and wanting and taking, his guest moaning into his lips as Alfred rolled their hips together.
Even through the fabric of their boxers, Alfred could feel so very easily how hard Feliciano had gotten, feel the heat burning between them as he ground his hips right onto Feliciano’s, rubbing their cloth-covered cocks together for some extra heat and friction. Alfred pulled his mouth away from Feliciano’s, instead mouthing and sucking kisses down Feliciano’s neck. The Italian was more than willing to accommodate him, tilting his head aside to expose more of his skin to Alfred’s mouth, shivering and panting beneath him in pleasured bliss.
Alfred’s glasses had already been set aside on the nightstand, their clothes on the floor, and soon Alfred was tugging at Feliciano’s boxers, lifting his head to meet Feliciano’s gaze.
Can I? was the silent question that Alfred asked through his eyes, and Feliciano smiled so sweetly at him and pulled him down into a kiss.
Yes, si, si, the kiss said, and Feliciano lifted his hips and let Alfred pull the fabric down and off of him, leaving Feliciano a beautiful, naked mess beneath him. Alfred was breathless for a moment, near reverently looking his guest over. Feliciano’s skin was light but still sun-kissed, now peppered and marked up thoroughly with little pink and purple love bites (from his neck down to his thighs, courtesy of one Alfred F. Jones), his face was red and his eyes half-lidded with arousal and contentment, his swollen cock flushed a deep pink as it stood proud and hard, curving towards his stomach.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” Alfred breathed before kissing down his chest again, pausing at a perked pink nipple and wrapping his lips around it, sucking and pulling and teasing it with his tongue and lips, sometimes even gently nibbling it between his teeth. Feliciano’s hands were busy, one tangling into Alfred’s hair, the other resting on his shoulder.
“Ahh- oddio, si, Alfred, please…” Feliciano sighed in contented bliss, eyes shutting as he squirmed and arched, his cock throbbing in response to all the wonderful stimulation. The tip was dripping with precum, the shaft twitching, and he was so very obviously desperate for a release- but Alfred wasn’t going to let him have it, not just yet.
“So beautiful, how did I get so lucky? Neckin’, kissing a shiek like you, taking you to bed,” Alfred hums after he pulls his lips away from Feliciano’s chest, smiling up at him. “You always a pushover like this, or do you fancy me this much?” he teased, a bright grin on his face.
Feliciano only laughed and playfully pushed his face away. “Sciocco. You know I ‘fancy’ you more than enough, so come kiss me more,” Feliciano purred, tugging him up- and Alfred complied, eagerly settling atop him again to kiss him, hold him, touch him all over. When they broke for air, Feliciano murmured, “And use words I know, you have so many strange slang words I don’t understand.” He was pouting a little.
Alfred only laughed and nuzzled him, rubbing their noses together playfully, before replying, “Alright, doll. I will. Shiek just means you’re an attractive fella, y’know?” Feliciano turned red at that, flattered, already won over all over again. Alfred kissed him again, before he reached for a little bottle of lubricant on the bedside, and then stripped himself of his boxers too. “Ready, babe?”
Feliciano was distracted a moment, completely focused on Alfred’s now completely bare body. He was well built, not too bulky- but with clear muscle definition, his youth and strength shown off by his physique. But Feliciano’s attention was focused more on Alfred’s cock, hard and wonderfully big, already dripping precum in anticipation of being buried inside a tight heat.
“Si, I’m ready. Don’t hold back,” Feliciano purred, relaxed and content. He was no stranger to sex- Italians had their reputation for being good lovers, and Feliciano lived right up to it. “You said you’d show me a good time, right~?”
Alfred smirked at him then, a new expression Feliciano hadn’t seen on his features yet, and the sight of it made Feliciano go scarlet and shiver in anticipation. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to make you see stars,” Alfred said next, in a low tone, accompanied by a nibble to Feliciano’s ear and a kiss to his neck. Feliciano held him, kissing along Alfred’s shoulder and neck in return, only for Alfred to pull away and slick his fingers with lube, before lowering them to Feliciano’s entrance and spreading his legs. “Just relax for me, alright?”
Feliciano was cooperative as ever, relaxing himself and giving a soft gasp as he felt Alfred’s fingers slipping into him, only two at first, but slowly and gently scissoring and stretching and spreading him open, preparing him for something much thicker and bigger than just fingers. He shut his eyes and moaned, wiggling slightly on the bed- and Alfred had to pin his hips down with a firm hand to keep him still. “Easy there, Feli,” Alfred teased, grinning at him again. “If you keep squirming like that, I won’t be able to do my job, right?”
Feliciano pouted and huffed but tried his best to settle down, the muscles of his marked-up thighs starting to quiver once Alfred curled his fingers inside him. Alfred’s fingers started to rub and thrust against the upper wall, searching for his prostate- and it didn’t take long to find it. Feliciano made it easy to tell, with how he arched and cried out, his dripping cock spurting a little burst of precum onto his abdomen, his body trying to writhe on the sheets even with how Alfred’s other hand was still holding his hips down.
“A-Alfred!” came Feliciano’s pleasured gasp, and Alfred knew he’d found it, starting to relentlessly strike the spot with firm and determined thrusts of his fingers. Feliciano looked so cute, so gorgeous, like this: falling apart on his bed, spread wide open for him, entirely trusting and wanting and eager. Alfred loved this, loved making his partners go to pieces, loved giving them pleasure and making them feel wonderful. Feliciano was so cutely responsive, too, making it easy for Alfred to tell just how well he was doing.
Alfred kept spreading him, adding a third finger soon enough, before he finally pulled his fingers out completely and used the lube to slick up his own cock. Feliciano managed to lift his head after all the dizzying pleasure of being fingered, only to purr and watch in excited and eager approval as his lover stroked himself, pumping his cock and then lining himself up between Feliciano’s legs. Alfred held Feliciano’s hips firmly, and then started to push himself in, giving a low groan and gasp as he felt Feliciano’s body taking him in, tight around his cock.
“Nngh… oh fuck,” Alfred panted. “God, you’re so much better than I could’ve imagined…”
Feliciano wrapped his legs around Alfred’s hips, wanting to keep him close, his arms coming up next to wrap around Alfred’s shoulders and hold onto him desperately as Alfred pushed in deeper, deeper, filling him, stretching him, claiming him. He was a happy, squirming mess, gasping and shivering as he felt his lover filling him so wonderful, gently and slowly, treating him like a prince. “Dio… Alfred… more, please…” he panted softly, nuzzling into Alfred’s neck affectionately, before pulling back to rest against the sheets and giving Alfred a coy, inviting gaze.
An act of trust, an act of affection and goodwill. This is what their lovemaking would be, Alfred knew now.
“Don’t worry, Feliciano. I’ll take care of you, of them,” Alfred murmured into Feliciano’s ear before he kissed him sweetly, a deep but gentle kiss. Feliciano met him and held on tight, held him close, and nuzzled him when their lips broke apart.
Feliciano smiled gently at him, and Alfred smiled back, before he started to thrust. It was slow, gentle at first, letting Feliciano ease into it and adjust to him. Feliciano was panting and giving soft moans at those slow thrusts, feeling Alfred pushing and pulling in and out of him, his cock throbbing inside him and filling him, making him shiver between his moans. Feliciano’s own cock was dripping, pressed between their bodies where Alfred pinned him down with his weight. Each press of their bodies gave his trapped cock a little squeeze and some friction, only adding to Feliciano’s bliss. Their hips rocked and bucked together, in a steady rhythm, one that made Feliciano arch and shiver and beg wantonly for him, unafraid to be honest with Alfred.
“Si, oddio, more, caro, ti prego, faster…” Feliciano murmured, hips tingling, a heat steadily pooling inside him deep at the base of his hips, a burning, swelling heat. But upon hearing that, Alfred pulled back to smile at him, and pulled out entirely, leaving Feliciano confused, whining in protest. “Alfred- what are you doing?”
“Don’t worry, babe, I’m not gonna leave you hanging. Hands and knees for me, alright?” Alfred said, before sucking and nipping a new mark onto Feliciano’s neck, making his lover melt and moan.
Feliciano was all too eager to comply, once he saw where this was going, and got onto his arms and knees, legs spread. Alfred grabbed his hips again and lined himself up, pushing in just the tip- and then he slammed in hard, fast, angling his hips to try and find Feliciano’s prostate. When Feliciano clutched at the sheets, crying out for him, begging for more, Alfred didn’t hold back.
The pace had been gentle before, but now Alfred was holding him firm, his hips powerfully pounding into Feliciano’s with angled, forceful thrusts, striking Feliciano’s prostate again and again. Alfred was panting, catching for breath as he continued to pleasure his lover, driving him up the wall with bliss, making Feliciano scream and moan and cry out for him desperately, pulling mewls of ecstasy from the Italian’s lips with every thrust. Again, again, again, he thrust in, rough and powerful and utterly dominating, and Feliciano adored every second, every inch.
After all, sex could still be a very fun act of passion, and Alfred had promised Feliciano a good time…
They Say America is Beautiful (Part 1)
/
Everything about it was intoxicating.
Alfred had wrapped an arm around his shoulders and spoken in soft tones into his ear as he pulled him close, telling him, “Don’t worry, there’s plenty of joints to have a good time at my place.”
In the same hushed tones, Alfred had spoken to a shopkeeper, who had looked around cautiously before leading them to a hidden door, one that opened up into what was undoubtedly-
“This is one of my favorite speakeasies,” Alfred said with a proud grin, pulling Feliciano in and gesturing to the broad, lively room, with a flourish. The room was lit in reds and yellows and oranges, creating a warm-looking environment in the busy chatter of the soundproofed room, and Feliciano turned to look at Alfred in awe. Hidden bars, flourishing parties, laughing and dancing people…
“Why is it called a speakeasy?” came the curious question, and Alfred grinned and laughed.
“You gotta ‘speak easy’ to get in,” was Alfred’s glib reply, eyes twinkling with mischief and playful pride.
Feliciano took another look around, and was stunned. The rich, dark stained oak tables and the beautifully carved, well-stocked bar, the well-dressed people, the warm lights and the comfortable, lively atmosphere… Even the music was foreign and new. There was a big band up on stage playing only the best kind of jazzy swing, music that Feliciano had never heard- but it was incredible.
It was intoxicating.
The music was meant to make you want to dance, to make you take your partners by the hands and hips and swing them about the dance floor in light-footed steps and clever acrobatics. Men in suits with their suit jackets discarded to the back of their chairs or atop their barstools, ties undone a little as they danced with the women, so beautifully dressed in flouncing, flowing dresses and fashionable scarves, cute and colorful pumps on their feet, such careful makeup on their faces.
Friends and lovers and businessmen all gathered together around the bar and tables, toasting each other with moonshine and wine and beer, all manner of booze being taken out from behind the bar counters, stirred up and served as if there wasn’t a Prohibition at all.
Literally intoxicating.
Feliciano had three glasses before Alfred finally coaxed him into dancing.
“I don’t know this kind of dance!” Feliciano had protested, laughing as Alfred hauled him along to the dance floor, the eager young blond so very determined to show Feliciano a wonderful night out. Alfred was dressed sharply, in a dark pinstripe suit with a matching stylish hat on his head- one that he’d quickly set down on the table upon entering the speakeasy. He shed his coat, leaving it on the back of his chair, and had just as easily gotten Feliciano out of his.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it! I’ll teach ya, it’s not hard at all, pal,” Alfred encouraged, reassuring him with another pat on the back and a great laugh. “Come on, loosen up that tie and collar a little. We’ll be dancin’ a good while before we head back.”
“Won’t people stare?” Feliciano asked on the way to the floor.
“Nah, everyone’s out to have a good time. No one will mind,” Alfred says, and his eyes are warm, such a warm deep blue, and Feliciano believes him.
Alfred’s hand is on his waist and the other is lacing his fingers together with Feliciano’s, and Feliciano knows he’s done for. Alfred grinning at him, speaking to him, lifting him up so easily and guiding him through the steps, the jumps and leaps and swings-
He was intoxicating.
He was strong and young and full of energy and vigor and potential, the land of opportunity in all his glory- in a Golden Era of prosperity. His words were sweet promises to those seeking freedom and second chances, his hands strong like the protection and safety his harbors could become, his heart beating strong with the work and spirits of millions bustling in the great expanse of his land.
Feliciano knew he was failing his people, god knows he’d tried, tried so hard to keep them, to better things, to make them stay. But it was too late, his country was broken and plagued with economic spirals and crashes and no money or opportunity to escape, and so his people were leaving him. Not just him, but him and his brother alike, both of them felt the loss, their people moving to America in hopes of a better life, in hopes that they would be able to get here what they could not in Italy.
But when Alfred’s hands held strong and fast to his, easily swinging him through the complicated dances and never letting him fall, never once betraying Feliciano’s trust- with laughter in his eyes and encouragement on his lips…
Feliciano knew they would be safe with Alfred.
Alfred’s hands were young, but larger than his, strong and firm, and they held him so gently.
“Dance with me more,” Feliciano said with a smile, trust in his eyes, warmth in his touch. He leaned into Alfred and was shameless, unafraid of the people around them. He asked Alfred to dance with him.
So Alfred did.
The night was young.
/
Maybe the booze loosened them up more than expected; maybe the jazzy music in Alfred’s penthouse just set the right mood. Maybe they’d stayed out too late and gotten drunk on the energy of the nightlife around them, maybe they’d been a little too close, touched each other just the right ways while they danced to get each other fired up.
Regardless of how they ended up there, the pair were near-naked in Alfred’s bed, Alfred pinning Feliciano right down onto the mattress while he kissed him, passionate and wanting and taking, his guest moaning into his lips as Alfred rolled their hips together.
Even through the fabric of their boxers, Alfred could feel so very easily how hard Feliciano had gotten, feel the heat burning between them as he ground his hips right onto Feliciano’s, rubbing their cloth-covered cocks together for some extra heat and friction. Alfred pulled his mouth away from Feliciano’s, instead mouthing and sucking kisses down Feliciano’s neck. The Italian was more than willing to accommodate him, tilting his head aside to expose more of his skin to Alfred’s mouth, shivering and panting beneath him in pleasured bliss.
Alfred’s glasses had already been set aside on the nightstand, their clothes on the floor, and soon Alfred was tugging at Feliciano’s boxers, lifting his head to meet Feliciano’s gaze.
Can I? was the silent question that Alfred asked through his eyes, and Feliciano smiled so sweetly at him and pulled him down into a kiss.
Yes, si, si, the kiss said, and Feliciano lifted his hips and let Alfred pull the fabric down and off of him, leaving Feliciano a beautiful, naked mess beneath him. Alfred was breathless for a moment, near reverently looking his guest over. Feliciano’s skin was light but still sun-kissed, now peppered and marked up thoroughly with little pink and purple love bites (from his neck down to his thighs, courtesy of one Alfred F. Jones), his face was red and his eyes half-lidded with arousal and contentment, his swollen cock flushed a deep pink as it stood proud and hard, curving towards his stomach.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” Alfred breathed before kissing down his chest again, pausing at a perked pink nipple and wrapping his lips around it, sucking and pulling and teasing it with his tongue and lips, sometimes even gently nibbling it between his teeth. Feliciano’s hands were busy, one tangling into Alfred’s hair, the other resting on his shoulder.
“Ahh- oddio, si, Alfred, please…” Feliciano sighed in contented bliss, eyes shutting as he squirmed and arched, his cock throbbing in response to all the wonderful stimulation. The tip was dripping with precum, the shaft twitching, and he was so very obviously desperate for a release- but Alfred wasn’t going to let him have it, not just yet.
“So beautiful, how did I get so lucky? Neckin’, kissing a shiek like you, taking you to bed,” Alfred hums after he pulls his lips away from Feliciano’s chest, smiling up at him. “You always a pushover like this, or do you fancy me this much?” he teased, a bright grin on his face.
Feliciano only laughed and playfully pushed his face away. “Sciocco. You know I ‘fancy’ you more than enough, so come kiss me more,” Feliciano purred, tugging him up- and Alfred complied, eagerly settling atop him again to kiss him, hold him, touch him all over. When they broke for air, Feliciano murmured, “And use words I know, you have so many strange slang words I don’t understand.” He was pouting a little.
Alfred only laughed and nuzzled him, rubbing their noses together playfully, before replying, “Alright, doll. I will. Shiek just means you’re an attractive fella, y’know?” Feliciano turned red at that, flattered, already won over all over again. Alfred kissed him again, before he reached for a little bottle of lubricant on the bedside, and then stripped himself of his boxers too. “Ready, babe?”
Feliciano was distracted a moment, completely focused on Alfred’s now completely bare body. He was well built, not too bulky- but with clear muscle definition, his youth and strength shown off by his physique. But Feliciano’s attention was focused more on Alfred’s cock, hard and wonderfully big, already dripping precum in anticipation of being buried inside a tight heat.
“Si, I’m ready. Don’t hold back,” Feliciano purred, relaxed and content. He was no stranger to sex- Italians had their reputation for being good lovers, and Feliciano lived right up to it. “You said you’d show me a good time, right~?”
Alfred smirked at him then, a new expression Feliciano hadn’t seen on his features yet, and the sight of it made Feliciano go scarlet and shiver in anticipation. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to make you see stars,” Alfred said next, in a low tone, accompanied by a nibble to Feliciano’s ear and a kiss to his neck. Feliciano held him, kissing along Alfred’s shoulder and neck in return, only for Alfred to pull away and slick his fingers with lube, before lowering them to Feliciano’s entrance and spreading his legs. “Just relax for me, alright?”
Feliciano was cooperative as ever, relaxing himself and giving a soft gasp as he felt Alfred’s fingers slipping into him, only two at first, but slowly and gently scissoring and stretching and spreading him open, preparing him for something much thicker and bigger than just fingers. He shut his eyes and moaned, wiggling slightly on the bed- and Alfred had to pin his hips down with a firm hand to keep him still. “Easy there, Feli,” Alfred teased, grinning at him again. “If you keep squirming like that, I won’t be able to do my job, right?”
Feliciano pouted and huffed but tried his best to settle down, the muscles of his marked-up thighs starting to quiver once Alfred curled his fingers inside him. Alfred’s fingers started to rub and thrust against the upper wall, searching for his prostate- and it didn’t take long to find it. Feliciano made it easy to tell, with how he arched and cried out, his dripping cock spurting a little burst of precum onto his abdomen, his body trying to writhe on the sheets even with how Alfred’s other hand was still holding his hips down.
“A-Alfred!” came Feliciano’s pleasured gasp, and Alfred knew he’d found it, starting to relentlessly strike the spot with firm and determined thrusts of his fingers. Feliciano looked so cute, so gorgeous, like this: falling apart on his bed, spread wide open for him, entirely trusting and wanting and eager. Alfred loved this, loved making his partners go to pieces, loved giving them pleasure and making them feel wonderful. Feliciano was so cutely responsive, too, making it easy for Alfred to tell just how well he was doing.
Alfred kept spreading him, adding a third finger soon enough, before he finally pulled his fingers out completely and used the lube to slick up his own cock. Feliciano managed to lift his head after all the dizzying pleasure of being fingered, only to purr and watch in excited and eager approval as his lover stroked himself, pumping his cock and then lining himself up between Feliciano’s legs. Alfred held Feliciano’s hips firmly, and then started to push himself in, giving a low groan and gasp as he felt Feliciano’s body taking him in, tight around his cock.
“Nngh… oh fuck,” Alfred panted. “God, you’re so much better than I could’ve imagined…”
Feliciano wrapped his legs around Alfred’s hips, wanting to keep him close, his arms coming up next to wrap around Alfred’s shoulders and hold onto him desperately as Alfred pushed in deeper, deeper, filling him, stretching him, claiming him. He was a happy, squirming mess, gasping and shivering as he felt his lover filling him so wonderful, gently and slowly, treating him like a prince. “Dio… Alfred… more, please…” he panted softly, nuzzling into Alfred’s neck affectionately, before pulling back to rest against the sheets and giving Alfred a coy, inviting gaze.
An act of trust, an act of affection and goodwill. This is what their lovemaking would be, Alfred knew now.
“Don’t worry, Feliciano. I’ll take care of you, of them,” Alfred murmured into Feliciano’s ear before he kissed him sweetly, a deep but gentle kiss. Feliciano met him and held on tight, held him close, and nuzzled him when their lips broke apart.
Feliciano smiled gently at him, and Alfred smiled back, before he started to thrust. It was slow, gentle at first, letting Feliciano ease into it and adjust to him. Feliciano was panting and giving soft moans at those slow thrusts, feeling Alfred pushing and pulling in and out of him, his cock throbbing inside him and filling him, making him shiver between his moans. Feliciano’s own cock was dripping, pressed between their bodies where Alfred pinned him down with his weight. Each press of their bodies gave his trapped cock a little squeeze and some friction, only adding to Feliciano’s bliss. Their hips rocked and bucked together, in a steady rhythm, one that made Feliciano arch and shiver and beg wantonly for him, unafraid to be honest with Alfred.
“Si, oddio, more, caro, ti prego, faster…” Feliciano murmured, hips tingling, a heat steadily pooling inside him deep at the base of his hips, a burning, swelling heat. But upon hearing that, Alfred pulled back to smile at him, and pulled out entirely, leaving Feliciano confused, whining in protest. “Alfred- what are you doing?”
“Don’t worry, babe, I’m not gonna leave you hanging. Hands and knees for me, alright?” Alfred said, before sucking and nipping a new mark onto Feliciano’s neck, making his lover melt and moan.
Feliciano was all too eager to comply, once he saw where this was going, and got onto his arms and knees, legs spread. Alfred grabbed his hips again and lined himself up, pushing in just the tip- and then he slammed in hard, fast, angling his hips to try and find Feliciano’s prostate. When Feliciano clutched at the sheets, crying out for him, begging for more, Alfred didn’t hold back.
The pace had been gentle before, but now Alfred was holding him firm, his hips powerfully pounding into Feliciano’s with angled, forceful thrusts, striking Feliciano’s prostate again and again. Alfred was panting, catching for breath as he continued to pleasure his lover, driving him up the wall with bliss, making Feliciano scream and moan and cry out for him desperately, pulling mewls of ecstasy from the Italian’s lips with every thrust. Again, again, again, he thrust in, rough and powerful and utterly dominating, and Feliciano adored every second, every inch.
After all, sex could still be a very fun act of passion, and Alfred had promised Feliciano a good time…