Get Some 1a/1
anonymous
March 9 2011, 04:03:42 UTC
America knew England had been to his house long after he'd gone. The lack of dust, the rearranged pictures and stacks of books, games and movies. England always fixed his everything, put it in perfect order whether he liked it or not. But the thing he noticed most was the smell. Everyone would expect the national personification of England to smell clean, like the rainwater and soap he was so proud of, when in reality he smelled rich and sweet and warm. It wasn't that he was warm, as a resident of the jet-stream he was pretty chilly. It was the tangy, woodsy scent of tobacco that clung to him. It permeated the air and no matter how damn hard America tried, he couldn't get it out of his nose.
So he masturbated to it instead. He was slow with himself, showering first, waiting to dry before pulling off his towel. His cock was already half-hard in anticipation and jerked at the cold air hitting it. Tongue rolling his lips, dampening them pink, America laid back on the bed to let the fantasy come.
Get Some 1b/1
anonymous
March 9 2011, 04:29:03 UTC
The real America whines as his body's needs pervade his mind. He can feel himself pulsing and pounding like a drum, hips thrusting forward as they reel for the final thing they need to send him over the edge. It's the last fantasy, the one he's never guilty over because people will think anything just to bring themselves off. Right?
In this fantasy it's not about him, not even close. He's barely more than a fuck-toy, but he appreciates that. It's easy to picture the swagger of the nation as he finds America bent over the couch, cleaning out the cushions. All dirty smirk as he pushes the golden boy into those cushions, canting his hips up. England unzips himself, not even bothering to loosen his belt. Spit suffices as lube and a hand as a restraint while he oh-so-slowly sinks in all the way. Large and blunt, the soft tissues that are swollen with blood swell America, pushing his resistance away as England mounts him. Every time that cock retreats, America's muscles clamp and suck, begging it to stay, then stretch and scream when it
( ... )
Maybe he masturbates while he thinking of England smoking? No actual sex required but appreciated (anon finds bottom America hot as hell)
Bonus: England smokes while blowing America
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America knew England had been to his house long after he'd gone. The lack of dust, the rearranged pictures and stacks of books, games and movies. England always fixed his everything, put it in perfect order whether he liked it or not. But the thing he noticed most was the smell. Everyone would expect the national personification of England to smell clean, like the rainwater and soap he was so proud of, when in reality he smelled rich and sweet and warm. It wasn't that he was warm, as a resident of the jet-stream he was pretty chilly. It was the tangy, woodsy scent of tobacco that clung to him. It permeated the air and no matter how damn hard America tried, he couldn't get it out of his nose.
So he masturbated to it instead. He was slow with himself, showering first, waiting to dry before pulling off his towel. His cock was already half-hard in anticipation and jerked at the cold air hitting it. Tongue rolling his lips, dampening them pink, America laid back on the bed to let the fantasy come.
England was above him, exhaling his ( ... )
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In this fantasy it's not about him, not even close. He's barely more than a fuck-toy, but he appreciates that. It's easy to picture the swagger of the nation as he finds America bent over the couch, cleaning out the cushions. All dirty smirk as he pushes the golden boy into those cushions, canting his hips up. England unzips himself, not even bothering to loosen his belt. Spit suffices as lube and a hand as a restraint while he oh-so-slowly sinks in all the way. Large and blunt, the soft tissues that are swollen with blood swell America, pushing his resistance away as England mounts him. Every time that cock retreats, America's muscles clamp and suck, begging it to stay, then stretch and scream when it ( ... )
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Anon, oh anon, this was so hot. So incredibly, mindbogglingly hot. I have nothing to say but "thank you". You have made me absurdly happy.
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What OP minds a double fill? Thank you for thinking about it!
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England's total lack of caring is insanely hot. Loved some of the word choices here. Great fill.
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