Hetalia Smut Stories

UkFr - Round Two

This is a short continuation of "UkFr - Fed Up."

  England gazed down at France with both love and lust as he rubbed against the Frenchman's entrance.

  France had his legs spread apart wide and he stroked his own cock as England prepared to fuck him once more.

  With hands on France's thighs, England slipped inside slowly, resulting in a loud moan from France.

  "Fuck me, fuck me!", he cried out desperately, arching his back. England leaned in close and kissed him as he began to thrust. He let himself become fully immersed in pleasure and continued to make out with Francis as he fucked him.

  Ding-dong.

  The two men stopped kissing and England slowed his thrusting at the noise.

  "Er... did you hear a doorbell?", France asked breathlessly.

  England shrugged. "I think so. Who cares though, this is more important."

  The Frenchman smiled and kissed him passionately as England picked up speed once more.

  Suddenly another ding-dong rang through the house. England grunted in frustration and pulled away slightly.

  "Who the bloody hell...", he grumbled out, having no desire to go and answer the door.

  France shook his head and pulled England close again. "Forget it," he murmured into his ear. "Just fuck me, mon cher."

  He pecked England on the nose and let his hands slide down to the Brit's ass.

  England moaned as France pulled him back close and even began sticking a finger in his ass. He began thrusting again, moaning into France's mouth.

  The two men ignored the loud knocking, and soon enough they were so into it that they failed to hear the front door open.

"Yo, England! Where are you, dude?", came a loud holler from within the house.

Both men froze instantly, looking into each other's eyes with panic. England pulled out and scrambled off of France, muttering strings of swear words.

  "Where are my underwear?", France asked frantically, gazing around. England glanced around quickly before spotting them and throwing them at him.

  After about twenty more seconds of hasty dressing, England appeared to be wearing his own pants, but had on France's shirt.

  "Fuck it," he grumbled, attempting to flatten his hair.

  "Seriously dude, where you at?", came the American yelling again.

  England shot France an apologetic look before scurrying out of the bedroom. "I'm uh, I'm right here!", he said awkwardly as he walked into the hallway.

  America stood there with arms crossed, looking mildly annoyed. "Dude, I thought you like, died or something!", he spat out.

  "Um... why the bloody hell would I have just up and died?", he asked.

  Looking a tad embarrassed now, the American shrugged. "I dunno. You just never showed up for dinner with Mattie and I."

  A couple thoughts went through England's mind at the same time. The first was, "How long was I having sex for?", and the second was along the lines of, "Oh, shit."

  What he said out loud was, "Oh, shit!"

  America frowned. "It's just not like you to be late or forget, so I was worried," he explained.