[ The less thinking that can be done during sex the more likelihood for enjoyment, at least when it's just something as benign as riding goes. These are not the elaborate scenes he's indulged in before, nonetheless, he is still just as keenly interested to be part of it. France's breathing is peppered with soft sighs with every slow roll of America's hips. Maybe he'd had enough forethought to make the blond come in an effort to alleviate some of his own frantic energy; all that's left is a mutual attempt to just enjoy the moment.
Some of the threat is reduced by how quickly America finds his own prostate. While he isn't impatient, that gasp makes him roll his hips up against the blond's ass seeking more of that. What he gets is America's lips pressing kisses to his fingers and the wet heat of the boy's mouth.
Either America enjoys porn or it's just his urge to put things in his mouth that have France's fingers buried to the knuckle. It feels gratuitous coupled with those pretty blue eyes at half-mast but far from bad. America's hips finally move and he groans under his breath, his free hand dragging nails down the blond's thighs. America speaks, and he can feel the vibration under his fingertips. Is there any blood left in his brain? France isn't so sure, but he pushes up, half seated. ]
Why don't you tell me?
[ France could have probably managed well enough while reclining, but he wants closer. His fingers wrap around the boy's throat, leaning in to kiss the blond and rob him of his breath in that manner too. France can be a simple man; he sees a nice set of lips he wants to kiss them. His teeth nip and tug at his bottom lip when he draws away to catch his own, pulling back until he could look America in the eye. ]
We can compare later how thrilling this can be. Your tempo versus mine.
[ Buddy, is he calling you out on being tortuously slow? Possibly. France's hips rock, moaning. ]
It'll be fun to render you speechless.
[ How can he make such a thing sound warm with affection? He wants to share this, appreciating the act himself. His mouth finds a patch of skin on the blond's throat not grasped in his fingers, kissing it. ]
You're going to drive me mad. [ A compliment, really. ]
[ There's a little bolt of excitement that runs through him once he feels that warm palm over his throat. He's got a nice Adam's apple, the skin tan here and paler in areas that are usually covered by clothes. He doesn't quite get that France is hinting that he speeds up the tempo, but he doesn't need a clue in. He's encouraged to do so as the other man has drawn near.
America even whimpers as France talks to him, hands grasping the blond beneath him. He shifts, hoping to hit that sweet spot again and picks up the pace rather generously. His rocking is strong and rapid— a big change from his performance earlier— his eyelids growing heavier, especially if France decides to give his neck anymore pressure, no matter how much or how little. ]
Please.
[ Oh. He's gotten a polite word out of him. Please what, though? He doesn't specify, but good to know he has some manners. ]
[ America really does have a nice neck that looks even better with France's manicured fingers wrapped around it. He shouldn't enjoy feeling almost possessive of every whine that slips from those pink lips but it comes with the territory. He can feel the anticipation bubbling with every rock and raise of America's hips.
It's infectious. The paper-thin walls still haven't slipped France's mind and while the room is otherwise silent, the sounds they're making are far from being mistaken from any casual observer. He wants to put on a show for more than America's curiosity. When he asks, so nicely, France can't help but to cater to helping the blond out. His arm wraps around America's hips, burying himself deep. Does he manage to get the other's attention to pause? Maybe. His words might be better though. ]
I'm going to need you on your back.
[ Sometimes you just want to plow a pretty blond into the mattress and choke him. America gets another kiss for his enthusiasm. Maybe a light smack on the ass to encourage him to get up. The fact that he's got a little more back there is definitely not a bad thing, in fact, he's keenly interested in doing that again. Later. ]
You'll tell me if you need me to let up, yes?
[ France is usually an observant lover but he knows this is fairly new ground with the blond, at least personally. ]
[ America has a tendency to be stubborn when it comes to being told what to do, but in this situation, he's quick to comply. You want him to do something? Apparently you just need to entice him with some pressure on the neck. That will do the trick.
The slap on his ass makes him yelp and flush, particularly embarrassed of that area. France doesn't know it, but that's probably the first time someone has done that to him. ]
Quit itttttt.
[ He complains, even if France only hit him once and he's doing exactly what he wants him to do. He flips himself on his back quite neatly and settles his palm on France's wrist; the one that is close to his neck. ]
I like it! Are you shy? We'll have to change that.
[ France is grinning, eyeing the flash of flank that he's rewarded with when America ultimately listens. Just to be a pest he squeezes the blond's ass. To soothe the flesh he'd popped, of course.
He dips down to kiss America on the lips, deceptively gentle for what he is going to do. The palm over his wrist is warm and he does his part, slipping his thumb to stroke over the younger nation's adam's apple.
France is quick to reposition himself now that the blond is settled. Little pretense is given to pressing back inside, groaning under his breath. America doesn't have to wait for France to put more pressure on his throat. He supports the majority of his weight on the other arm to keep from cutting off his air completely.
His hips are much more demanding. Enjoy. ]
Is this my lucky night? You, begging? [ There's something mildly calculating in his tone and he parts the younger blond's thighs by spreading his knees. That sweet spot is going to get abused. France is sure he won't hear a complaint about that one though. ] I didn't hear you actually beg... Maybe I should squeeze harder? [ His rocking hips certainly got the memo to go faster. ]
[ He wants to protest more about the attention on his rear end, but the gentle kiss shuts him up before he can even start, and he chases after those lips before resting back against the pillow. France will feel such a strong pulse that America has on his neck, his eyes starting to grow hazy, lips hanging open but unable to form a coherent sentence. Months and months ago, he never thought he'd be in such a vulnerable position with someone else, but it's true that he trusts France more than most people.
He's not quiet in the least, ahs and other noises that sound more like crying out every time he hits him right where he needs to. He cannot answer France with words; simple as that.
America's hand remains on France's wrist and lift for a moment as if he's wanting to tap out and gain full access to breathing again, but.. his hand curls around the wrist instead, writhing a bit under the man. He's so close and he knows it's going to be something incredible.
America's eyes that France seemed so intoxicated with earlier are misty, but he nods rather hastily. ]
[ He doesn't think America is the type to enjoy a partnership like he and Austria have to the extent they have it, but there is something horribly gratifying in the young blond willingly participating in something France knew quite well and enjoy it. The desire to dote over the American is strong but that will come later. After them.
Show vulnerability and get France's attentive affection. Win/win.
France is hardly treating the nation beneath him gently but he feels an unavoidable fondness spurred on with every sound that slips from America's lips. The blond is wonderfully incoherent and pliant beneath him and he is happy to offer a few hushed words of praise. He's really holding out for America to finish before he will, but his hips stutter in their harsh tempo when the hand on his wrist pulls up. It's fast enough that the grip he has on America's neck goes lax and his brow creases in concern. Before he can ask if the other was okay that hand anchoring his own shifts and he watches how he writhes against the sheets.
He croons in approval when he gets a nod from the blond and drops to rest on an elbow, coincidentally trapping America's length between them. His fingers readjust their grip, slowly cutting off his air to a greater extent than he had previously. The rush he feels from overwhelming a lover is not new by any means but it is new in that he's doing this to America. Who is getting off from it. Part of it feels incredibly taboo, even while under the influence of various influences.
Now's a perfect time for that kiss, stealing whatever breath America may have. It also just felt right and the younger nation had been so quick to chase after his lips at the start of this. He'd hate to deprive him of more. ]
[ It's a good thing that France decided to kiss him again cause that's exactly what he wants. It muffles the final noise that he makes when he comes— hard— reacting by his body quaking under the older man. His hand repeatedly taps as a response and he takes in a deep breath when he can.
Tears are spilling from his eyes and he brings his quivering hands to his face, scrubbing at them as he tries to gain composure of himself, his muscles continuing to throb. He practically sighs out the other man's name, ignoring the hot mess sandwiched between them. Some of it even got on the upper part of his body. ]
France..
[ After he gains a little more control of his breathing: ]
[ He's had enough experience to know when his partner is close but the intensity of America's orgasm leaves him momentarily frozen, buried hip with his hips flush against the blond's flanks. There is no hesitation in releasing his hold on his neck, supporting himself with shaky arms as he sought out his own. It's quick work with how America's muscles clench around him.
There's a pretty string of French curses and he slips down to press a line of kisses along America's shoulders while the younger nation collects himself. A shiver passes through him. Was it due to how his name sounds coming from the blond's lips right now or was it from his skin cooling slowly? Debatable. He's smiling when he shuffles to prop his head up on a palm, appreciating the view. ]
You did so well. Was it worth coming back here so I could have my wicked way with you?
[ What a warm compliment from the peanut gallery that's only contributing to the messy state they're in. Just burn the sheets. His free hand goes to brush back the younger nation's hair from his forehead, slowly coming down from his high. ]
How does your neck feel? I wasn't too rough was I?
[ There's still some lingering lightheaded feeling, but he's concentrating on his breathing, coughing just briefly before he clears his throat. He seems.. utterly delighted to just be lying there and still thinking of what happened a few moments ago, unaware that some marking is starting to appear on his neck. His voice is uniquely soft— a stark contrast to how he usually talks. ]
It made everything feel like.. a lot more. It was kind of scary.. but I liked that part of it.. cause it made it exciting too.
[ He gives France a closed lip smile, but there's still bliss that's on his expression and in his eyes. ]
But.. I don't think I can do anything else. I just want to be here.
[ Now he knows why Klaus would beg him to do it. ]
[ America looks close to melting against the mattress, sated and happy. It makes his chest clench with some problematic yearning that has him stroking a hand over America's chest while he works to catch his breath. ]
I know exactly what you mean. It's such an experience.
[ Shifting his weight, he kisses the top of America's head and moves to rest beside him. It's just easier to catch his breath as well. He's propped up, watching him through his lashes. ]
If you ever want to do it later on I am quite happy to.
[ His hazy blue eyes follow France's movements and he can't help but smile even bigger when France offers. ]
Dude, I thought I could keep up with you, but I don't know. I kind of just want to sleep forever. I feel so gross, though.
[ He's a bit.. meticulous when it comes hah to stuff on his skin. Sweat and release. He should shower, but he's basically putty right now. ]
Hey.. why didn't we do something like this sooner?
[ Oh. ]
I like being with you. I mean, I don't.. love you.. but you're important to me. You always have been. I'd be lying if I said it hadn't crossed my mind back during the Revolutionary War..
[ That's a secret he's never told. ]
But I was really focused on what I had to do. Did you ever look at me and wonder what it would be like to be with me in this kind of way?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Some of the threat is reduced by how quickly America finds his own prostate. While he isn't impatient, that gasp makes him roll his hips up against the blond's ass seeking more of that. What he gets is America's lips pressing kisses to his fingers and the wet heat of the boy's mouth.
Either America enjoys porn or it's just his urge to put things in his mouth that have France's fingers buried to the knuckle. It feels gratuitous coupled with those pretty blue eyes at half-mast but far from bad. America's hips finally move and he groans under his breath, his free hand dragging nails down the blond's thighs. America speaks, and he can feel the vibration under his fingertips. Is there any blood left in his brain? France isn't so sure, but he pushes up, half seated. ]
Why don't you tell me?
[ France could have probably managed well enough while reclining, but he wants closer. His fingers wrap around the boy's throat, leaning in to kiss the blond and rob him of his breath in that manner too. France can be a simple man; he sees a nice set of lips he wants to kiss them. His teeth nip and tug at his bottom lip when he draws away to catch his own, pulling back until he could look America in the eye. ]
We can compare later how thrilling this can be. Your tempo versus mine.
[ Buddy, is he calling you out on being tortuously slow? Possibly. France's hips rock, moaning. ]
It'll be fun to render you speechless.
[ How can he make such a thing sound warm with affection? He wants to share this, appreciating the act himself. His mouth finds a patch of skin on the blond's throat not grasped in his fingers, kissing it. ]
You're going to drive me mad. [ A compliment, really. ]
no subject
America even whimpers as France talks to him, hands grasping the blond beneath him. He shifts, hoping to hit that sweet spot again and picks up the pace rather generously. His rocking is strong and rapid— a big change from his performance earlier— his eyelids growing heavier, especially if France decides to give his neck anymore pressure, no matter how much or how little. ]
Please.
[ Oh. He's gotten a polite word out of him. Please what, though? He doesn't specify, but good to know he has some manners. ]
no subject
It's infectious. The paper-thin walls still haven't slipped France's mind and while the room is otherwise silent, the sounds they're making are far from being mistaken from any casual observer. He wants to put on a show for more than America's curiosity. When he asks, so nicely, France can't help but to cater to helping the blond out. His arm wraps around America's hips, burying himself deep. Does he manage to get the other's attention to pause? Maybe. His words might be better though. ]
I'm going to need you on your back.
[ Sometimes you just want to plow a pretty blond into the mattress and choke him. America gets another kiss for his enthusiasm. Maybe a light smack on the ass to encourage him to get up. The fact that he's got a little more back there is definitely not a bad thing, in fact, he's keenly interested in doing that again. Later. ]
You'll tell me if you need me to let up, yes?
[ France is usually an observant lover but he knows this is fairly new ground with the blond, at least personally. ]
no subject
The slap on his ass makes him yelp and flush, particularly embarrassed of that area. France doesn't know it, but that's probably the first time someone has done that to him. ]
Quit itttttt.
[ He complains, even if France only hit him once and he's doing exactly what he wants him to do. He flips himself on his back quite neatly and settles his palm on France's wrist; the one that is close to his neck. ]
Yeah, yeah, I will. Just do it. I'm begging you.
no subject
[ France is grinning, eyeing the flash of flank that he's rewarded with when America ultimately listens. Just to be a pest he squeezes the blond's ass. To soothe the flesh he'd popped, of course.
He dips down to kiss America on the lips, deceptively gentle for what he is going to do. The palm over his wrist is warm and he does his part, slipping his thumb to stroke over the younger nation's adam's apple.
France is quick to reposition himself now that the blond is settled. Little pretense is given to pressing back inside, groaning under his breath. America doesn't have to wait for France to put more pressure on his throat. He supports the majority of his weight on the other arm to keep from cutting off his air completely.
His hips are much more demanding. Enjoy. ]
Is this my lucky night? You, begging? [ There's something mildly calculating in his tone and he parts the younger blond's thighs by spreading his knees. That sweet spot is going to get abused. France is sure he won't hear a complaint about that one though. ] I didn't hear you actually beg... Maybe I should squeeze harder? [ His rocking hips certainly got the memo to go faster. ]
no subject
He's not quiet in the least, ahs and other noises that sound more like crying out every time he hits him right where he needs to. He cannot answer France with words; simple as that.
America's hand remains on France's wrist and lift for a moment as if he's wanting to tap out and gain full access to breathing again, but.. his hand curls around the wrist instead, writhing a bit under the man. He's so close and he knows it's going to be something incredible.
America's eyes that France seemed so intoxicated with earlier are misty, but he nods rather hastily. ]
no subject
Show vulnerability and get France's attentive affection. Win/win.
France is hardly treating the nation beneath him gently but he feels an unavoidable fondness spurred on with every sound that slips from America's lips. The blond is wonderfully incoherent and pliant beneath him and he is happy to offer a few hushed words of praise. He's really holding out for America to finish before he will, but his hips stutter in their harsh tempo when the hand on his wrist pulls up. It's fast enough that the grip he has on America's neck goes lax and his brow creases in concern. Before he can ask if the other was okay that hand anchoring his own shifts and he watches how he writhes against the sheets.
He croons in approval when he gets a nod from the blond and drops to rest on an elbow, coincidentally trapping America's length between them. His fingers readjust their grip, slowly cutting off his air to a greater extent than he had previously. The rush he feels from overwhelming a lover is not new by any means but it is new in that he's doing this to America. Who is getting off from it. Part of it feels incredibly taboo, even while under the influence of various influences.
Now's a perfect time for that kiss, stealing whatever breath America may have. It also just felt right and the younger nation had been so quick to chase after his lips at the start of this. He'd hate to deprive him of more. ]
no subject
Tears are spilling from his eyes and he brings his quivering hands to his face, scrubbing at them as he tries to gain composure of himself, his muscles continuing to throb. He practically sighs out the other man's name, ignoring the hot mess sandwiched between them. Some of it even got on the upper part of his body. ]
France..
[ After he gains a little more control of his breathing: ]
I loved it.
no subject
There's a pretty string of French curses and he slips down to press a line of kisses along America's shoulders while the younger nation collects himself. A shiver passes through him. Was it due to how his name sounds coming from the blond's lips right now or was it from his skin cooling slowly? Debatable. He's smiling when he shuffles to prop his head up on a palm, appreciating the view. ]
You did so well. Was it worth coming back here so I could have my wicked way with you?
[ What a warm compliment from the peanut gallery that's only contributing to the messy state they're in. Just burn the sheets. His free hand goes to brush back the younger nation's hair from his forehead, slowly coming down from his high. ]
How does your neck feel? I wasn't too rough was I?
[ Aaaand doting. ]
no subject
[ There's still some lingering lightheaded feeling, but he's concentrating on his breathing, coughing just briefly before he clears his throat. He seems.. utterly delighted to just be lying there and still thinking of what happened a few moments ago, unaware that some marking is starting to appear on his neck. His voice is uniquely soft— a stark contrast to how he usually talks. ]
It made everything feel like.. a lot more. It was kind of scary.. but I liked that part of it.. cause it made it exciting too.
[ He gives France a closed lip smile, but there's still bliss that's on his expression and in his eyes. ]
But.. I don't think I can do anything else. I just want to be here.
[ Now he knows why Klaus would beg him to do it. ]
no subject
I know exactly what you mean. It's such an experience.
[ Shifting his weight, he kisses the top of America's head and moves to rest beside him. It's just easier to catch his breath as well. He's propped up, watching him through his lashes. ]
If you ever want to do it later on I am quite happy to.
[ Yeah, listen. He would. ]
no subject
Dude, I thought I could keep up with you, but I don't know. I kind of just want to sleep forever. I feel so gross, though.
[ He's a bit.. meticulous when it comes
hahto stuff on his skin. Sweat and release. He should shower, but he's basically putty right now. ]Hey.. why didn't we do something like this sooner?
[ Oh. ]
I like being with you. I mean, I don't.. love you.. but you're important to me. You always have been. I'd be lying if I said it hadn't crossed my mind back during the Revolutionary War..
[ That's a secret he's never told. ]
But I was really focused on what I had to do. Did you ever look at me and wonder what it would be like to be with me in this kind of way?