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America sat on top of one of his couches, resting his eyes, halfway drifting into sleep, but halfway staying awake to not miss any parts of his show. He flinched and, his body jerksing at the sudden high pitched ring he's become familiar with.
He sluggishly reached for his recently bought iPhone 15, tapping on the screen twice to turn it on, checking his notifications on the lockscreen. He had received a message from ... Russia ? He stared at the screen puzzled. Giving a quick glance at the dickital clock, he became even more confused. Why would Russia text him?
One wouldn't describe America and Russia to be friends. Although the duo were not confirmed foes to one another, you wouldn't see them getting along together, especially one on one alone.
America unlocking his phone, looked at the preview of the notification. The phone displayed nearly illegible texts from Russia, but the last one stood out. It seemed to have been sent with the speech to text option, making it more readable than the previously sent messages. It read, "zude im lowk drunk as freak rn cume pick me up fag xoxo rus'' America stared at the words on his screen, contemplating what to do. He started wondering why Russia messaged him; instead of going to someone he was actually buddies with, maybe it was an accident? He responded with "?", then shortly after gaining a response from the other, clarifying the address he wanted America to drive to and back, picking him up.
America considered his options, go to sleep watching TV in a dark broody, lonely house occupied by one person, him – or going for a drive and possibly partaking in some humane activities, pee-rchance even socialization. He sighed, opening the keyboard and obliged to Russia's request. He sat up, walking to grab his car keys, forgetting to grab any additional clothing to help him not freeze in the cold nighttime weather. He headed out, starting his car and driving away, double checking the address prior.
-
"I'm here. Where are you ?" America texted Russia. Waiting a short amount of time, the bar door swung open, he spotted Russia almost crawling out of the bar, then checking his surroundings, seemingly looking for something before heading for America's car. America's concern suddenly spiked, hopping out of his car and assisting Russia towards it. America sat them both in the front seats, keeping an eye on the other's actions in fear of him somehow breaking or messing with any of the miscellaneous items in his car.
America doesn't waste any time with small talk, but he immediately made sure there was a water bottle for his guest before starting the car and driving off into various roads on the way to their destination.
The drive was moderately quiet, the only conversation being America asking if Russia was okay, or if he needed help when he noticed Russia getting a bit pale or ditzy, earning an affirming nod or hum.
A while long onto the drive home, there was a rhythmic movement placed on America's lap. He averted his gaze from the fairly empty moving road to his lap, then realizing the movement he felt was.. Russia's hand? A slight tint of red patently creeped upon America's face, embarrassment and awkwardness now present. America attempted to ignore it, but it was damn near impossible to.
He turned his head and glanced at Russia, he seemed more calm and collected compared to earlier, definitely more tired by now. His head was rested against the car seat's headrest, eyes completely closed, if he wasn't still caressing America, he would've thought Russia was asleep.
The way the orange streetlights, the color of fallen autumn leaves, graced his scarcely moving body almost made America shiver.
He noticed a movement with Russia's unused right hand, America watched the motion with a steady gaze from the corner of his eyes, giving 50/50 attention to the road and Russia. He was slowly nodding his hand to his own mental rhythm America assumed. He noticed Russia's breathing become heavier and more sporadic, evoking an amount of unease in America's conscience.
Checking up on him, America gave Russia a short look over, making sure he wasn't having a seizure or something. He became aware of the reason quickly, there was Russia soothingly palming himself. Almost as if he knew, his grip needingly tightened on America's thigh.
A while after pondering on whether he should say something or stay silent and focus on the road, he hesitantly rested his right hand on top the one rubbing his thigh. America wanted to make sure,
"I, uh... Are you sure you want me to drive to yours? I mean, mine is closer–"
"J-Just pull over.." Russia refuted.
America tensed up, but reluctantly agreed. He had to look for a brief moment before parking the car next to a park. America's anxiety spiked as he shifted the gear into park. The car was awkwardly silent for a hot minute, when hesitantly America tried to speak.
"So ... uh .." He thought for a moment.
"You're down to help me out with this?" Russia suddenly spoke.
""H-huh , what ?" Thoughts racing his mind, questioning whether he heard his words right. "Like.. with whatever you're... doing... right now..?"
"Well, yeah." Russia replied.
America stared at him momentarily in disbelief. Is this actually happening? What should he do? He found all of this to be very strange, they were never even friends after all, and now all of this is occurring.
Suddenly, he felt Russia's rough hand pull on his hair desperately, meeting his face closely, their mouths coming into contact. America was surprised, even a bit afraid maybe, but he went along with it.
Working his hands under Russia's shirt, his fingertips gently caressing down from his chest, to his waist, to his manhood. Moving Russia's hand away from it, he takes the job of stroking it (and by it, haha, i mean his peanits) for him. Starting off with teasing slow up and down repetitive strokes, flitting his tip with his thumb occasionally. Getting hasty after a brief moment resulted in Russia letting out soft muffled moans, keeping his hold on Americas lips.
Russia tugged on Americas hair more aggressively, transferring him onto Russia's lap, pushing the seat further back for room. Parting their lips once like before, Russia took control of the man's hips, adjusting both of their bodies to be his desired position. America's hand had since been removed, but now laid against the dashboard in support of his body.
Russia laid America against the car dashboard, hurriedly undressing the smaller one. his hands all over America's thighs, sticking a finger in between his boxers and his v-line, tugging on it until it revealed his dick. Teasing him, Russia looked America in the eyes, examining his reactions. America, embarrassed, diverted his gaze from Russia's actions onto the now non occupied drivers seat, gaining a slight chuckle from the other and a whine from America. His breathing became labored, fitting the now stuffy and hot atmosphere of the car. Russia grew a grin, giving America's tip a lick, Murica's spine arching further in reward.
"You know.. I've–I've always wanted to do this." Russia trailed off, lightly chuckling at his suck-cess.
America glanced at him for a second with no response, just giving a small awkward giggle. Although Russia had waited forever for this moment straight from his fantasies to happen, he couldn't help but play with him. Unexpectedly advancing his hand away from his dick to further along, he placed the nude member halfway into his mouth as a holder, wrapping around it as his tongue played and grazed around the slit, leaking a bit. America letting out a louder, even more pathetic whine. His hands tried to grip on something for support, like the steering wheel on the side, and the other hand on the door handle. Russia's hand grasping tighter on America's assthigh, another high pitched sound of pleasure and want escaped him. The humid and breathy situation caused the cold morning air window to fog up a white color, now nearly unable to see through. His fingers traveled down to his puss, one finger leading to circle his slot, the other gently rubbing his bulb, in an attempt to not overstimulate him, yet still causing America to lightly twitch every passing of it. America's virginass had begun to sweat a lot, feeling hotter and hotter. Not quite enjoying the teasing, hoping for Russia to get to real action at this point.
"J-Just get to it already..." America breathed out, loud enough for Russia to hear, but still fairly quiet.
Russia let his thang drop from his mouth, his tongue guiding it the way out. "Hm? What'd you say?" He grinned. Russia heard America crystal meth clear, but his urges to mock and tease him overpowered the want to further progress it.
"Uaaahh..~ J-Just,-- get to the action already..." He begged in sharp breaths, crying it out louder.
As soon as Russia was about to verbally agree, a phone started ringing, Americas phone. Both men freaked 😝out for a moment, unsure of what to do. Russia looked up at America, leaving the decision up to him. America looked at the caller ID, it was Philippines – His ex.. He stood still, thinking, deciding whether to answer the call or not. Eventually, he attempted to grab his phone to answer it, but Russia held him down from that, grasping his body even tighter than before, it started to hurt– But not in a bad way, perhaps.
"Hfngh!—Let me go, please..." Yelped America. Not receiving a verbal response, only seeing Russia's grinning and smiling becoming intense. He hesitated for an instant, giving great effort to drag Russia's hands off, however still failing to do so due to his vigorous grip on America's body. He squealed, "Plea-.hff...Please." huffing exhaustedly, looking Russia in the eyes.
He spoke up, "No one will have you other than me, kitten." 😟America didn't react much, yet his body did. His shaft twitched, granting Russia's attention. His grip aroundAmerica'ss waist loosened, his focus swapping from America's flushed face to his emphasized cock, throbbing and quivering on his eye level. America could feel Russia's hot breath blowing around his cock, which only excited him furthermore. A low stifled snicker escaped Russia, "Well, if you insist.." He bantered in a low tone, dragging his words on in a playful manner. With all the unnecessary teasing, America didn't know what exactly to expect, but he wasn't disappointed. Feeling his thang be fully engulfed by Russia's mouth made him shudder. America could ever so slightly sense the grooves of Russia's teeth, and all that did was make everything feel more real. Russia's mouth held a minor clutch on America's log, dragging on it with each repetitive movement. Each stroke became sloppy: he became less rhythmic and more sporadic the longer it went on. His head bobbing up and down, both could feel America's thang hit the back of Russia's throat, the pain of it increasing with each pound. The surface of Russia's tongue sliding and amusingly playing around his length was excessively stimulating to America, precum dripping out his dick, providing more lubrication. Small groans escaped America's trachea, Russia knew it was a signal of desperation for haste. As Russia quickened his pace, he heard an increasing amount of muttered swears and whimpers coming from the other. America needingly shifted his hips further outward, Russia saw an opportunity and took it. Russia took the grip his right hand had on America's thigh and moved it to America's pussie, inserting one finger, letting his virginass get adjusted to the sudden pententration. Feeling the pulsation inside of America, Russia traced it with his ring finger, waiting a brief moment before providing a mirrored movement of Russia's bobbing; In, out, in, out. America's breathing became singly, occasional, and heavy. Each rise and fall of his lungs was shaky and randomized; Russia could tell what was coming. America. Suddenly, cum splattered on Russias face. They both freeze for a second, Russia looking up at America in the eyes while America stood still, looking red and embarrassed. Awkward silence filling the car.
"You're done..? Already?" Russia spoke, letting out a tiny titter.
America not knowing how to react or what to say, sat still, avoiding eye contact with him. He was starting to think off all the bad things that could happen after this, shaking and sweating, but was mistaken when he felt Russias rough hands adjusting him to a different position. He was held by his thighs and ass, suddenly feeling a little poke under his poosay hole, freaking 🤤 out.
"Even so," Russia whispered. "I'm not.."
Abruptly letting his body go, Americas ass slamming against Russias hips, the cock going all the way inside. Being a virgin and this happening unexpectedly, America let out a loud yelp in surprise, so loud it practically mimicked a crime scene. Russia expressed his pleasure by a soft, deep, groan, repeated from the feeling of the vibration caused by the quivering America. America gazed at Russia and his actions, wondering how they both got into this situation– Getting sucked and fucked by his main rival, (other than the libs) was not something he ever could have predicted (other than 9/11.) Both men sat there for a moment, allowing each other to adjust. America stared into Russias diverted gaze, noticing the small unique details never taken account of before. He loved the way the streetlights reflected off Russias pupils, it seemed small and insignificant, but to America, it helped him cume to the conclusion. Shit, he isn't straight. (no reaaaa,,yyyyy now aayayyyyyyy no mamess gueyyy )