Fem!Spain/Fem!Romano Cunnilingus
anonymous
November 23 2010, 04:37:26 UTC
There is not enough of these two both genderbended. I just want a good, sexy fic of them getting it on and I just happen to have a huge kink for cunnilingus.
Bonus if there is some fingering too and that there's an actual plot, not just porn. Also that they were always have been female and I would prefer the use of country names if possible.
heh. heheh.
anonymous
November 24 2010, 04:19:53 UTC
ohmigawd I've never written yuri smut before -hyperventilates- but I've roleplayed it, so...hee I hope OP doesn't mind the really, really spare use of human names! and also, warning of vulgar words. otherwise, hope you like :)
For Romano, the only good thing about world summits was that she got to sit next to Spain. South Italy came right next to Spain, after all, and who didn't like sitting next to the woman? She was warm, all pretty grins and dimples, and smelled like sunshine and cinnamon, and never had a single rude word to say to anyone.
But, like ice cream and cherry-flavored condoms, thought Romano as she squirmed in her seat, too much of a good thing was almost always dangerous. Spain, for all her good qualities, could be a right bitch sometimes, the "sometimes" especially meaning "at business meetings". Sure, the feel of three fingers deep inside her felt amazing, but not during a meeting! Dammit! At least she'd already said her piece - there wasn't much need for South Italy to attend these meetings, but Veneziano lost his
( ... )
Re: heh. heheh. 2/2
anonymous
November 24 2010, 04:21:09 UTC
The cold air of the business room felt ridiculously good on her hot arousal, and she cried out into her sleeve as Spain traced circles on her inner thighs
( ... )
I swear it wasn't going to be porn. I don't know what happened.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Roma isn’t beautiful.
She purses her lips in annoyance as she smoothes out her skirt, sinfully short, and tugs at her blouse in resentment for being too loose. The satin is soft over her bare skin, but doesn’t cling to her the way it should, and all she sees in the mirror is long hair out if place with a mad curl sticking out and slim legs that are not shapely enough and too small breasts that nobody will notice. Roma scowls, and scolds herself for thinking that this would make a difference. She likes the heels, though, and if anybody asks, she’ll say that is because they are a potential weapon, and leave it at that.
Roma can see that she’s not pretty. She knows Spain sees it, too, and hates the way she’s so kind and adoring to Venezia, so gentle and nice and beautiful, and so much more like Spain. Of course, it’s easy to love her - the sister with the easy smile and cheerful demeanor and really, really full breasts that are always close to
( ... )
Carnation (PT 2)
anonymous
November 26 2010, 16:56:06 UTC
Roma doesn’t know. In all honestly, she has no idea of what she was intending to do this afternoon, other than attempt to beat the mirror for a day. She sits at one of the kitchen chairs and crosses her legs as pretty as she can, showing off her shoes and brand new stockings. I was going to stay home, her brain supplies. What comes out, instead is, “I thought I could call France.” She barely has a second to regret those words it before Spain’s eyes turn not cold, but hot.
“France?” She repeats, looking from disbelieving to angry to utterly heartbroken, all in one. Spain tries to hold it in, Roma knows, but every emotion she has always ends up showing in her face. Her smile is tight. “I didn’t know you got along so well. He’ll be pleased to see you this pretty.”
“That pervert is pleased about seeing anyone pretty.” Roma mutters, angry at Spain and at herself, but the venom dies as soon as she notices that Spain is right behind her chair and leaning in to hug her from behind, breasts warm and soft pressed against Roma’s back
( ... )
Carnation (PT 3)
anonymous
November 26 2010, 16:56:59 UTC
Spain lets go of her gently, and Roma doesn’t wait to see her face. She takes her chance and walks out. Spain catches her just as she has crossed the door. Roma doesn’t look at her. “Let me go, tomato bitch.” She struggles against Spain’s hands grabbing at her, but she ends up with her back to the wall, Spain’s hands at her waist, her own hands clutching at the older nation’s shoulders. She catches a glimpse of Spain’s worried face looking at her and averts her gaze.
“Roma, what-?”
“You don’t even notice I’m here”, she snaps, “I hate you!”
There is a moment of deafening silence. “Roma, that’s not true.” Spain’s fingers trail down her body, hold her hips tight against the wall. Her fingertips dig into her flesh over her clothes, pushing insistently until Roma lifts her gaze. “Why do you say that?”
It has to be true, Roma thinks. Of course she’s right. If it’s not true, she’d feel it. She gets rid of Spain’s hands and takes a step forward in defiance. “You could show some passion, for once
( ... )
Carnation (PT 4)
anonymous
November 26 2010, 16:57:56 UTC
Spain looks feverish as she takes in the sight before her, places her hands over Roma’s small, supple breasts, seals her mouth around her hardened nipples and licks her lips, hot pink, like a wild animal. Roma doesn’t breathe, tries not to, because the sound would give her away. A hand slides down her side and in between her legs, and she does moan when she feels the touch of Spain’s fingers over her thin, silky panties. Spain touches her with slow, careful moves, feels her through the warm, damp cloth, tugs at it until it slides down her legs onto the floor to fall right between her expensive heels
( ... )
Carnation (PT 5)
anonymous
November 26 2010, 16:59:04 UTC
“¿Aún me odias, Roma?” Spain’s voice is a hot whisper at her ear, but apologetic, and Roma is torn between telling her yes, or surrendering completely and giving herself to Spain, unrepentant and unashamed, but that’s not going to happen
( ... )
Bonus if there is some fingering too and that there's an actual plot, not just porn. Also that they were always have been female and I would prefer the use of country names if possible.
Other than that, the rest is all up to the anon!
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I hope OP doesn't mind the really, really spare use of human names! and also, warning of vulgar words.
otherwise, hope you like :)
For Romano, the only good thing about world summits was that she got to sit next to Spain. South Italy came right next to Spain, after all, and who didn't like sitting next to the woman? She was warm, all pretty grins and dimples, and smelled like sunshine and cinnamon, and never had a single rude word to say to anyone.
But, like ice cream and cherry-flavored condoms, thought Romano as she squirmed in her seat, too much of a good thing was almost always dangerous. Spain, for all her good qualities, could be a right bitch sometimes, the "sometimes" especially meaning "at business meetings". Sure, the feel of three fingers deep inside her felt amazing, but not during a meeting! Dammit! At least she'd already said her piece - there wasn't much need for South Italy to attend these meetings, but Veneziano lost his ( ... )
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I love it
and you
so much
especially the ending hahaha I can't even...
just ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
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Noo, fem!Spain, fem!S.Italy, why so hot? One of the hotter pieces of yuri that I've read.
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So hot.
Yess.
<33
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Roma isn’t beautiful.
She purses her lips in annoyance as she smoothes out her skirt, sinfully short, and tugs at her blouse in resentment for being too loose. The satin is soft over her bare skin, but doesn’t cling to her the way it should, and all she sees in the mirror is long hair out if place with a mad curl sticking out and slim legs that are not shapely enough and too small breasts that nobody will notice. Roma scowls, and scolds herself for thinking that this would make a difference. She likes the heels, though, and if anybody asks, she’ll say that is because they are a potential weapon, and leave it at that.
Roma can see that she’s not pretty. She knows Spain sees it, too, and hates the way she’s so kind and adoring to Venezia, so gentle and nice and beautiful, and so much more like Spain. Of course, it’s easy to love her - the sister with the easy smile and cheerful demeanor and really, really full breasts that are always close to ( ... )
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“France?” She repeats, looking from disbelieving to angry to utterly heartbroken, all in one. Spain tries to hold it in, Roma knows, but every emotion she has always ends up showing in her face. Her smile is tight. “I didn’t know you got along so well. He’ll be pleased to see you this pretty.”
“That pervert is pleased about seeing anyone pretty.” Roma mutters, angry at Spain and at herself, but the venom dies as soon as she notices that Spain is right behind her chair and leaning in to hug her from behind, breasts warm and soft pressed against Roma’s back ( ... )
Reply
“Roma, what-?”
“You don’t even notice I’m here”, she snaps, “I hate you!”
There is a moment of deafening silence. “Roma, that’s not true.” Spain’s fingers trail down her body, hold her hips tight against the wall. Her fingertips dig into her flesh over her clothes, pushing insistently until Roma lifts her gaze. “Why do you say that?”
It has to be true, Roma thinks. Of course she’s right. If it’s not true, she’d feel it. She gets rid of Spain’s hands and takes a step forward in defiance. “You could show some passion, for once ( ... )
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