Ludwig was, as usual, busy filing papers and sorting documents. Heaving a long sigh he hoped to finish before dinner. At that moment the door to his office burst open with an all to familiar 'Veeeeeeeeeee!' Italia came to bother him... again. "Doitsu! Doitsu! Are you here? Dooootsuuuuu!" the little Italian called out. Ludwig had his back to the door and didn't bother to turn around lest he be swept away in the hyper active tornado. "Ja, I'm here. Now go avay, I'm busy."
But Italy never understood this word. "Eh? But we're going to be late for the party, Doitsu! Party! Party!"
"Vhat party?" the German man asked, already getting tired from just talking to him. "Why the big costume party nii-san Francis is holding! Everyone is going. You got an invitation too, right Doitsu?" Ludwig's eye twitched. Of course, now he remembered. He did receive an overly gaudy invitation to that sick pervert's party, and he also remembered burning it. "I'm not going." he stated simply. "Awww, really? But I wanted us to have lots of fun at the party." the red head pouted sadly. This tugged at the blond man's heart, but quickly squashed this sensation. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of fun. Really, Italia. Zuch fuss over- OH MEIN GOTT!"
Turning in his chair to face the annoying nuisance, he was met with quite a sight. Red Riding Hood. Actually, a red hot riding hood. The smaller man was decked out in a full on sexy red riding hood outfit. A deep red hood and cape were perched upon his shoulders in a classic sense, with a heart clip keeping it in place. A white, high neck blouse ruffled out concealing the lack of breasts, which only made it cute in a childish way with the red bloomed, ruffled short sleeves. A little black bodice constricted around his slender waist, showing off his figure in a feminine way. The little red mini skirt was already too short to be legal in any situation, along with the overly fluffed petticoat that made the skirt bounce out, covering anything below with an innocent cloud of frills and lace. Shiny black polished shoes, with buckled straps around the ankle, added to the sense of innocence were it not for the long silk thigh high stockings. These clung to his legs tightly and rose up, his shapely thighs till they just barely touched the white fluff from beneath the skirt.
The costume in general screamed temptation, but the sweet innocence prevented it from actually being slutty. Though this only kindled desire into a blazing inferno. It sure was getting a rise out of Germany. In more ways than one.
Snapping out of his sudden shock, the man slammed his hands on his desk, jumping to his feet. "Vhat the hell do you think you're vearing!?" he barked at the small Italian. "Vee? Don't you like it? France nii-san picked it out just for me. Said it would look really cute. Don't you think it's cute?" Feliciano played with the skirt, looking to see if anything was wrong with it. "Nein! Nein! Put ze skirt down!" Ludwig snapped, steam sizzling from his head. That damn France! Did his perverted ways know no end!? Daring to dress his- er- Italia in such a deliciou- ridiculous outfit! "You're not going anywhere near that party dressed like that!" Actually there was no way he was going period. Who knew what that sicko French man had planned!
"Huh? But brother Antonio is already here to pick me up. But if you really don't want to go, Doitsu, I understand..." The red head sniffled a little, fidgeting with the hem of his skirt. Germany laid a hand on Feliciano's shoulder, hanging his head. "I'll go." he agreed, admitting defeat. An adoring smile bursting on his face, Feliciano jumped up and threw his arms around the large man. "Vee! I'm so glad! Now hurry up and get dressed or we'll be late!" With a bounding 'Vee' Italy runs off, leaving the stunned man standing from where they embraced.
Italy waited at the door and perked up when Ludwig finally came down. "Yay! You're ready! ... Is that what you're wearing?" Seeing he was dressed in his usual uniform. "There is nothing wrong vith just this, Italia. Now let's go." he really didn't want to dress up for this stupid party. Italy tilted his head for a moment, looking him up and down. "But it's a Halloween costume party, Doitsu. You have to dress up." Thinking a moment, he bopped his fist in his hand, coming up with an idea. "I got it!" Reaching into his picnic basket prop, he pulled something out and quickly perched them on Germany's head. It was a pair of blond dog ears that matched his hair. "VHAT!?" exclaimed the man before the little red head attached a fluffy tail to his backside. "There! Nii-san Francis told me to bring these in case of emergency role play, whatever that means. Aww! You look so cute, Doitsu."
Just as Ludwig was about to pull the ears off, his fingers stilled at being called cute. "Ah... you think I-I look cute?"
"Sì! Like a German Shepard!"
That got Feliciano a swift smack to the head.
Rubbing his sore head, Feliciano smiled happily. "Vee! Well, we better hurry or we'll be late. Oops!" At that moment the basket slipped from his fingers and rolled under a table. "Oopsie. Clumsy me." he chuckled, bending down to get it, which caused his skirt to rise. The blond man's jaw dropped. 'Heilige Scheiße!' Ludwig's head felt like it was exploding. Underneath the layers of fluff and lace were a pair of cute panties with a little cartoon wolf character printed on them, licking its chops. Slapping a hand over his face, he could feel the blood rushing to his nose.
"Got it!" Italy sang gaily, getting to his feet. "Shall we go?" he smiled and turned, skipping out the door, the mini skirt bouncing with each step, flashing just a tiny glimpse of panties here and there. Germany held his nose tightly, or else it would gush blood, and sank to his knees on the floor, his eyes riveted to where the skirt waved at him so temptingly. Would he be able to make it through this party?
The party was in full swing by the time they arrived. Everyone was decked out in a wondrous array of costume. England was dressed in a classic pirate captain outfit, and downing his sixth glass of champagne while America, dressed as a WWII fighter pilot, laughed and poked fun at him, which only angered him. Russia followed China, a chef, around like a creepy stalker which was only enhanced with his warden outfit and baton. Everywhere Germany looked everyone was fully dressed in various fashion and themes. 'Ugh. Zuch a gaudy exhibition these idiots are putting on. Have they no shame?" the man thought, his eyes riveted at the area between stocking, skin, and skirt of Italy's costume.
Italy's costume was actually quite popular. The moment he stepped through the door, with his short skirt bouncing with 'come and get it' appeal, everyone, mostly the males, took quick notice and instantly went to eagerly chat with him. Ludwig's costume matched his mood at the moment, his ears pinning back and growling. 'Vhat the hell!? Don't get zo close to him you bastards! EH! He touched his skirt! HE TOUCHED HIS SKIRT! Berühren Sie nicht! Ich werde dich töten!'
As the German male seethed and growled in annoyance, someone from across the room zeroed in on his position. With masterful maneuvers, he quickly closed in on his target and struck. "Well, well. And vhat fuzzy ears you have, West." a familiar voice teased; throwing an arm around his neck and a crop whip under his chin. "Hallo Gilbert." Ludwig greeted his older brother Prussia, who currently had his face smooshed uncomfortably close to his face. "Hmmm. Zuch a cold greeting for your older brother. How unfeeling, West. But it only adds to your charm..." he smirked back, leering hungrily, his lips unsuspectingly leaning closer to his mouth.
"Gilbert... Get off. You're making a scene. And why are you dressed like that?"
"Nothing says DOMINANCE like a German uniform." Gilbert smiled, having the audacity to strike a pose. Ludwig paled slightly, embarrassed for this idiotic man.
It was plain to see that Prussia's costume stood out a bit. He wore a classic German military general uniform. His black boots shined a high polish that matched his tight leather pants that look as if they were panted on his skin. The long coat, with shiny brass buttons, covered his upper torso elegantly. The final piece what that black hat perched upon his head, which hung over his eyes, where Gilbird sat comfortably on top.
Nudging his entire form against the blond man, Prussia uses the tip of his crop to toy with the buttons on his uniform. "So stuffy, as always, West. Perhaps we should have a drink... a few drinks. That way we can relax and enjoy our own private party..." These last words were extenuated with his gloved hand gliding up the man's waist. But Germany wasn't listening. Having spotted a glimpse of red, he detaches himself from the ravenous man and rushes off to find the little Italian. Gilbert was quite miffed, but smiled none the less, tapping the tip of his crop to his chin. "Playing hard to get, eh West?" A soft laugh rumbles from his throat. "Dann lassen Sie die Jagd beginnent."
Ludwig weaved his way through the crowed, looking all over for Feliciano. Damn that little idiot, wearing such a provocative and shameful outfit. With such a flimsy skirt, making it easy to raise up... Not that he thought that! And those stockings! An embarrassment beyond all reason... wrapped snugly around those soft luscious thighs... But worst of all was those damn wolf print panties! The material alone was ultra-thin and would easily tear at the slightest touch. Then he'd be exposed and defenseless... and... so inviting...
Passing by a mirror, Germany quickly wiped his mouth when he noticed he was drooling. Nien! Nien! He mustn't think such perverse thoughts about Italia! He mustn't think how that bodice clings to his waist so tightly... or how it extenuated his hips to temptingly. Germany sharply slapped his cheeks to dispel the visions spinning in his head. Italia would never act sexy like that! He wouldn't look up at him with those large pleading eyes and beg on his knees, 'Oh please, Ludwig...' he'd pant, dragging his fingers down his coat 'Please... I'm suffering...' And his skin most certainly wouldn't be dyed in a flushing red, his body dripping with sweat and curving in desire. Or cry out, 'Mercy! OH! Mercy, Ludwig! I can't take anymore! I'm going to die!' with tears rolling down his blazing cheeks.
Germany ended up taking a quick trip to the bathroom to... cool his head. Well, actually he put his whole head under the faucet, but that doesn't matter at this moment.
Fully refreshed the man once again sets out in search of the little red riding tomato. He easily finds him, after some searching, helping himself to the buffet left out. He was chatting happily with his brother Romano, dressed in a sort of sailor outfit, before the matador clad Antonio snatched him up and carried him away, saying "There you are, my delectable little tomato. Papa Antonio is craving some juicy Ramano fun..." he purred, winding the curled strand of Romano's hair that was already making him cry in ecstasy. "Put me down you bastard! And don't tou- UHHHHHHHH!" They disappear into the kitchen.
Ludwig's head pounded from what would most likely be a very bad headache. Now that Italy was alone, many a male eye shifted toward him in hungry interest. Sensing the danger, Ludwig immediately goes over to the clueless red head. "Oh, hey Doitsu!" he greeted the man enthusiastically. "Where've you been? Isn't this party fun? Everyone is saying how nice my costume is."
'I bet zey are...' Ludwig thought darkly. Taking the smaller males hand, he pulls him away from the pack of wolves that were eying the little lamb in red. "Doitsu? Where are we going? Are we going to get something to drink cause I'm really thirsty. Oh, is that Japan? Why is he wearing kitty ears and a butler outfit? Well, Greece seems to like it. Awww. He's helping fix his tail, but should his hand really be going inside the pants? How odd. Oh look..." On and on the little chatter box spun off without so much as taking a breath, giving great detail to his surroundings while Germany tried to not listen, or make eye contact so he wouldn't see such sights.
Finding a secluded area, Ludwig was able to breathe a sigh of relief, having escaped the insanity of this party. Really, did everyone just come here to get laid!?
Italy, lost in a perpetual daze, wasn't paying attention to his footing and ended up tripping on the carpet. "Vee?" Ludwig turned just in time, automatically raising his hands to catch him. "Really, Italia, you can be so-...oh-... OHHH!" And indeed he did catch him. With the tempting red riding treat pressed against his hard body, his hand held up a propped leg, just under his thigh, where his fingers could feel the skin between silk stockings and forbidden fruits. The way they were positioned, Germany could feel the layers of silk ruffles brushing his lower regions.
Recovering from the surprise of falling, Feliciano looked up at the blond man with those large, adoring eyes all aglow. "Grazie, Doitsu! I can always depend on you." And he gave him a full blown smile that shot like a bullet through Germany's heart.
Ludwig's face heated up. If his furry ears were real, they'd be drooping.
Gulping the lump forming in his throat, his blue eyes drank in the sweet image before him. So close. They were so close. How soft his lips looked; they'd easily bruise when kissed. Unconsciously inhaling deeply, he relished the delicious scent of an Italian banquet bursting with flavor; enough to make his mouth water. And, oh gott, his skin... his hand that still held his propped leg slid just the tiniest fraction, the tips of his fingers brushing the exposed flesh. So soft and ripe. Would it melt in his mouth?
Swallowing thickly, in the back of his mind he thought how easily he could pull the smaller man just a little bit closer, so he could feel the heat surging in his loins. Who was he kidding? All his thoughts were filled with the image of lightly tugging away those cartoon wolf print panties and devouring him like the wolf he was. With those stocking legs wrapped around his waist, his soft begging voice pleading for more wurst.
Licking his dry lips, his free hand grabbed a handful of that ass, making Italy squeak, and was about to make their worlds collide when a certain annoyance came marching in on their fun. "Weeeeeeeeeest! Come out, come out, and plaaaaay! Where are you- West? Ah, there you ar-..."
Prussia had walked in on quite a scene. He hadn't seen Italy's costume yet and had gotten quite an eye full, which already had his head reeling. But with a golden eared wolf in the midst of gobbling up the little red riding tomato; his SEXY golden eared wolf brother, it was all systems overload. Blood exploded from the man's nose and went ricocheting backwards from the force.
Ludwig was stone solid at being seen in such a predicament, but the sight of his brother suddenly developing a bloody nose alarmed him slightly. "Uh, brother? Are you ztill alive?" Crouching down, he poked his head with his finger. Prussia babbled a bunch of German nonsense about unbridled ausschweifung, and hot rollenspiel orgien. So he assumed he was fine... well, physically.
Getting to his feet, the German wolf dusted his knees and turned to the red head, clearing his throat, his cheeks lightly flushed at having been interrupted. The man hoped to explain his prior behavior and perhaps... um... well... interest his companion to a more secluded area. Not that he had anything perverse in mind, himmel nicht! "Ahem... uh, Italia... The room is rather crowded... zo I vas wondering if-" But Italy was already gone. Looking up, he was just in time to see the little red riding tomato vanish into crowed, his red skirt bouncing, flashing those panties with the cartoon wolf print mocking him with its licking chops. With his fake wolf ears pinning back (an illusion), Ludwig let out a rather peeved growl. How dare he suddenly run off without so much as being abashed by what happened! Wasn't he the least bit shameful for having his thoughts plagued with indescribable fantasies that would put any style of pornography to shame!? ... not that he was thinking that. Nope. Nein, nein, nein. Not at all. And he most certainly didn't have an overly swelled wurst busting at the casing.
Denial is a wondrous ability.
Leaving his half-conscious brother on the floor, Ludwig marched into the party to find the little tomato tart. Not for anything lewd! He swears!
Gilbert regained consciousness and floated to his feet much like a corpse does rising from the grave. His head dropped to his chest lifelessly, then slowly rose as if it were not connected to his shoulders at all. With blood running down from his nose, he smiled in a way that all the demons in hell would cower from. So... they were dressed like that and didn't tell him? What a naughty boy his little brother was. Teasing him with those ears and putting on a peep show for him to walk in on. And little Italia, all decked out in an innocent costume that just screamed fun in the bedroom. Poor little red riding hood, and her friendly wolf. Little did they know that the REAL wolf was on the prowl. A doubly sweet treat just for him, soon to be triply sweet. Smacking his lips ravenously, Gilbert went on the prowl. "Who's afraid of the big bad wolf...?"
Slinking in and out through the crowd of people and buzz of conversation, Ludwig searched high and low for Feliciano. The night was wearing on and already the guests were slightly intoxicated and letting loose. Germany felt so out of place. He really didn't have anyone to really talk to since he accidentally caught Kiku in the midst of being stripped and kissed breathless by Heracles in the coat closet. Then he accidentally stumbled across Romano and Antonio in the pantry. Luckily it was dark, so he couldn't see, but the noises he heard pretty much gave everything away. Turning down the hall, he was nearly ran down by a screaming China, pulling his white chef coat down to cover his bare legs. "My pants! Please! Someone, anyone, GIVE ME SOME PANTS! Aruuuu!" Russia was hot on his heels, the said pants in his hands. "Zlow down, China. I can't myake out the Hello Kitty print. Kol kol kol... Is that the little devil edition...? So naughty..."
If Germany wasn't absolutely sure he was sober, he'd really wish he wasn't at this point. Debauchery. That's all France's parties were. A hell hole of debauchery. Had people no restraint?! But the one with no restraint what so ever had yet to make an appearance. Not that he wanted to see the disgusting narcissistic, overly horny French idiot in this life time or any other.
The sound of a familiar 'Vee!' quickly caught Ludwig's attention and quickly ran to the next room. And there was Italy... with France. France was dressed in a full out, overly gaudy king's outfit that suited his ego perfectly. Dressed from head to foot in royal blue of crushed velvet, the vest he wore, of golden roped and buttons glimmered in the light. The oversized kingly robe, that draped off his shoulders and pooled on the floor, was a deep purple with a white and black dotted fur trim. With a domed crown tilted ever so lightly on his blond head, he really did look just like a king. A king perversion with the sexy red riding hood SITTING IN HIS LAP!
Sitting comfortably in a throne of jewel encrusted roses, made for just the occasion; Francis smiled and sang gaily with the Italian, his fingers drawing circles along his thigh. Italy was very red in the face and had obviously been drinking heavily, not noticing the hand that stroked up his stockings, the tips of his fingers flicking the frilled layered petticoat playfully. When Ludwig saw this, his fake ears would've pinned back and his tail bristled. He seethed at the hand that was touching the soft heaven that he'd only just gotten a taste from. '... wait, that came out wrong. RAWR!' Now he was cradling Italia in his one arm so his hand could slid between his legs!
France smiled lustfully at the little tomato cutie, covered in fluff and frills and silky stockings. His fingers played with the short skirt while the middle one traced the line between his closed thighs, trailing higher and higher where he knew a lonesome pair of panties that were just begging to come off. "Mmmm, seems you're a little tipsy, ma cherie." he cooed, placing a finger beneath his chin to tilt it up to look into his blushing cheeks. "Vee... I was... looking... for..." the little red head panted, his words faltering.
"Shhhh..." shushed the French man sweetly, pressing a finger to his lips. "There is no need for words, amore... Let me give you some 'royal' treatment..." Holding his chin between his fingers, France brought his lips close to the other to savor the sweet depths of paradise.
But paradise was guarded by a viciously jealous wolf.
As he leaned in for a kiss, his arms were suddenly emptied by Ludwig who snatched the sleepy Feliciano away and carried him off. Francis sulked and yelled after them. "No fair, Germany! I had... hi-... eeeep..." Germany said nothing as he looked over his shoulder with a very dark, very menacing glare in his eyes. France ducked behind his throne, trembling in fear.
With the Italian over his shoulder, Ludwig stomped off to find some water for the tipsy red riding hood so they could go home. This proved difficult and had to use all his will power to ignore the layered ruffles that brushed against his cheek. Feliciano groaned and looked about. "Vee? Where'd big brother France go? Huh? I'm floating? Oh, it's just Doistu. Hello Doitsu. I've been looking all over for you." Germany was dubious. "I sure am glad to see you, Doitsu, because I think I'm about to throw up..."
"VHAT!? Nein! Nein! Nein! Keep it in, ver dammit! Bathroom! BATHROOM!" But most of the closet bathrooms were occupied, for who knows what, so the man had to rush to a nearby room. Luckily Italy's sickness subsided without a messy result. Breathing a sigh of relief, Germany placed the smaller man down, his body shivering as Italy's form slid down his large frame. He gulped, feeling himself stirring down below. Italy's feet touched the floor and was able to stand on his own with wobbly legs. He gave his friend a wide smile just like he always did that always got Ludwig's heart racing.
"Vee, Gracie Doitsu. Where have you been, I've been looking all over for you." he giggled, swaying to and fro from foot to foot. "I'm sure." Ludwig retorted coolly, remembering the way he was enjoying France's company just moments ago. "Sì. I went off to find you some of that wurst stuff you like so much. But I couldn't find any so I went to ask France nii-san. But then he gave me some wine, and it was really good wine too, so we ended up drinking a whole bottle and everything is sort of a blur..." Germany crossed his arms, not believing a word of it. "Oh? An vhy would you be looking for zomething for me to eat, hmm?" He most likely just ran off to have fun. Not that he was jealous or anything!
Italy tilted his head, not understanding the tone in his voice. "Vee? When I fell over and you caught me you had this hungry look on your face."
"Eh...?" Ludwig's brow gave a twitch.
"Sì. You looked as if you were starving and getting ready to eat me up in one bite. You must be very hungry, right Doitsu? Was I wrong? Huh? Doistu?! Why is your face all red? Doitsu? Dooooooitsu?"
Germany's face went up like a roman candle. Oh Gott... he saw it... he saw... He had to think of something! Anything to explain that situation!
While the blond man's thoughts raced around like a merry-go-round, Feliciano was trying to get his attention and tugged on his sleeve. But in doing so, again the little basket in his hand slipped from his grip and rolled away. Quickly trying to go after it, Italy -due to the copious amount of alcohol- and his natural clumsiness- ended up falling face down into the plush carpet. Luckily it was a soft landing.
Germany saw this and immediately went over. "Italy! Ver dammit, are yo- ooooooOOOOOOHHH!" Peek-a-boo. Italy had fallen with a thump and up his short skirt flew, revealing his lack of panties. Blood blasted from Germany's nostrils and had to pinch them close to prevent any more from coming out. "I-i-italia... y-y-your p-p-panties... VHERE ARE YOUR PANTIES!" Italy gave a weak moan on the floor, his head spinning. "They were too tight so I removed them..." he mewed, his hips making a slight shift that really got the other's attention.
Rolling onto his back, his stocking clad legs hiding his tender parts, the little Italian looked up at Germany with droopy bed room eyes. "Doitsu..." he whispered softly. "I'm hot..." Thunder struck Ludwig. Swallowing thickly, his half stiff member leaping to full attention. Was this... an invitation!?
Italy blushed a little more deeply, almost as red as his costume. "Ludwig..." he whispered gently through those long lashes. Ludwig's piercing blue eyes widened at his name. The only time he ever said his name is... Again he gulped. Those soft brown eyes melted with warmth as he called out his name again. "Ludwig..."
Germany thought his heart would exploded. He was obviously drunk, but oh gott, the way he looked, so helpless and ripe. The outfit simply begging to come off and reveal the soft swells of flesh, and the sweet ecstasy of biting into the juiciest of tomatoes.
Italy breathed deeply, a little spaced out from all the alcohol he consumed, unaware that every slight movement or sound whetted the German man's howling hunger.
Ludwig slowly stalked toward the supple form laid out like a feast before a starving man. The closer he drew the harder his heart would pound till he thought it would bust through his ribs. Then his steps stalled. Wait. Should he really be taking advantage of Italia at his weakest? What kind of a man would that make him, taking someone when they're barely conscious? A soft moan escapes red riding tomato's lips, shifting his legs to give a teeny tiny glimpse.
Germany's rational thinking shuts down and stood there. Then a little Italian voice spoke to him in his head. 'Why Doitsu, what big eyes you have...'
'... t-the better to see your creamy skin...' he answered back in his mind.
'And Doitsu, what big muscles you have...'
'The better to hold you down and strip you naked...'
'Oh Doitsu, and what a big wurst you have...'
"Umso besser für dich fressen kann!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs, his tongue hanging out, and pounced the delicious tomato treat.
Back at the party, Prussia scoured through the hustle and bustle of people. On and on he searched, high and low, in closets and pantries, under chairs and behind curtains for the elusive blond wolf and his doubly delicious red riding treat. "Here, puppy, puppy, puppy. Big brother has a nice 'bone' for you..." Gilbert called out, continuing his search of a fairy tale picnic.
Ludwig sealed his lips over Feliciano's, his hard body towering over him. Feliciano squeaked in surprise, but was quickly swept away into the kiss. Germany craved to crush his entire form down and devour him, but restrained himself. He wanted to savor every sweet morsel of this Halloween treat. Smothering his lips to Italy's soft ones, he gently coaxed them to part just a little to allow him to kiss more deeply. His hot tongue dipped in and explored the other's soul. Feliciano moaned as their tongues glided together. His body shivered when he felt Ludwig plunge deeper, lashing dominantly against his. Wrapping his arms around his neck, the smaller man ran his fingers through those golden threads, going mad with heat from just a kiss.
Finally their lips part and Italia gasps for breath, his eyes moist with desire. Drawing his earlobe into his mouth, the German man suckled it tenderly as his hand slid down his slender throat while his other stroked the swell of his socking covered calf.
Passing by a closed door, Gilbert nearly jumps out of his skin when he heard the wolfish howl of his brother. He was instantly salivating at the rough and dominating tone the German sex beast roared. "So this is where you've been hiding, West. You naughty puppy you..." he chuckled seductively, pressed against the door. His fingers walk along the smooth wood surface. "Time to fetch your 'bone', West..." Smacking his hungry lips, he turns the door handle. But it doesn't budge. Rattling the knob he realized it was locked. "Ver dammit, West!" he yelled, pounding his fist against the door and wrenching at the handle.
The sounds were muffled out. Being France's house he most likely had all the rooms sound proof for... personal use.
Germany smothered soft kisses to Italy's neck, his palm massaging over his chest. Italy moans as he's fondled, giving a sharp gasp when one of his nipples was brushed against under the clothing. Now anyone could have easily removed his clothing, but Ludwig was getting far more hotter at the little red riding tomato that eluded him all night. Now he had him and was far from even thinking of stopping.
Rubbing his thumb over the area where he felt the soft nub, he lightly rubs them before capturing them between his fingers. Feliciano mewed sweetly as his nipples are toyed with beneath the layers of fabrics. Ludwig nipped his bobbing Adam's apple, rolling and tugging the soft bumps till the Italian cried out in a begging tone. Already his legs drifted apart, rising on his toes in those buckled shoes. As his finger mercilessly abused Italy's already swollen nipples, he roamed his mouth down the slender form. Lower... lower... lower... "Ah! ... L-ludwig..." the red head gasped, a prisoner to the overwhelming desire.
Moving away from the wonderful warmth of his body, the blond man lifted one of his legs and placed a kiss upon his ankle. Running his lips along the buckle straps he drew them up the swell of his calf, brushing the knee. His fingers kneaded the soft leg muscle while his lips continued their journey along those soft thighs. His lips only ceased just as they touch the hem of the petticoat.
Bliss, pure bliss. Germany was in heaven. Propping Italy's legs over his broad shoulders, the man presses them together to caress his cheeks along their silky smooth surface. 'Ah. Zo weichen! Like the feathers of the wings of angels.' he thought to himself perversely while rubbing his cheeks to the soft skin. His cock gave a painful throb.
Really, when this guy lets loose he was a real dog in heat.
Italy, on the other hand, was really suffering. The little caresses, the light touches, the soft kisses; it was driving his crazy. The layered ruffles of his skirt tickled his erect member mercilessly. And with Germany doing such naughty things to his legs, the poor man was in erotic agony; feeling wonderful, but not enough to reach the gates of heaven. "Lu-ludwig..." he wept, shivering as the man rubbed his cheeks between his legs. "P-p-please..." Ludwig glanced up, currently licking the hem of the stockings. "Hmm?" he mumbled, tugging the garter with his teeth. Feliciano reddened shyly. Grasping the hem, with trembling fingers, timidly pulled his skirt back, gently exposing his swollen cock under the soft frills and silk. "Please, Ludwig... Eat me here too..."
Blood jetted from Germany's nose, his head erupting like a volcano. "Mit Vergnügen..." he panted heavily, licking his chops.
Gilbert had his ear to the door, desperately trying to make out the going on's behind the door. He could barely make out the little moans of Italy and the heavy breathing of Germany. Again he slammed his fist against the door, clawing at the door knob that refused to budge. "West! Open up! I want a share! Share with me too!" he sobbed, and dropped to the floor to peek under the crack of the door.
Spreading his little red riding tomato's legs open a little more, Ludwig breathed heavily ready rip that costume right off and chow down. Nein! He must take his time. Take his time and truly relish this moment. His eyes lower to the weeping cock shyly peeking out from under the frills. Brushing these away, he swept the tip of his tongue atop the head; lapping up the drop of moisture collected there. He let out a lustful moan, delighted by the bitter saltiness and licked the underside of the length. Heaving heavy breaths, the man lapped and flicked his tongue over the hot length till his captive was practically sobbing.
Already entranced by sampling the delicious nectar, Germany drew the pulsing organ into his mouth. Feliciano screamed, tears watering his eyes. Grabbing fistfuls of the man's blond hair, Italy nearly bent his back in half; crying out in pleasure as he came in the German's mouth. Germany drank every last drop and pulled off, licking the corner of his mouth to catch a single drop of cream. Italy lay sprawled on the floor gasping for breath, his lower self dribbling lust.
Ludwig smiled. "Oh, you ztill seem to vant more down here, Feliciano." and he gave the cock a long lick. Italy flinched, instantly getting hard again. Grabbing one of his arms, he hoists him onto his lap with. "Now zen, be a good little tomato and get these vet..." he said in a thick voice and brushed his fingers over his swollen lips. Feliciano gave a pathetic noise and obediently opened his mouth. A soft pink tongue crept out and sheepishly tasted the extended digits. Gaining a bit more courage he repeated the action, slipping his tongue between his fingers before holding the hand in his own and sucking them into his mouth much like a baby to a bottle.
Germany's blood boiled in his veins. Such an erotic display; innocent yet tantalizing. Truly this was the apple of Eden. Removing his fingers from those sinful lips, he reaches in between his legs, past his balls, and stroked the puckered bud. Feliciano closed his eyes with a shudder. His moist fingers stroked the tight opening till it was properly lubricated. Gently he pushed one finger inside. "Ah-ahhhhh!" the Italian gasped, feeling his insides invaded. Ludwig probed the smaller man's insides, relishing in the wet warmth inside before adding another finger.
The extra digit made the already moist sounds louder and more lewd sounding to the ears. The sounds grew even louder and slipperier when another finger was added; mingling with the sweet moans Feliciano was yowling. Germany was so hard; nearly splitting the front of his pants. Already he was at his limit.
Unfastening the front of his pants, his engorged dick leaps roaring out, hungry for Italian food. His fingers come out with a delicious gush and uses the access liquid to slick himself up. Taking a good hold of those stocking dressed thighs, he raised his hips to position them over his raging hard on. But he wanted to play with him a little more and settled for slicking his hips along his hot rod. The small opening convulsed rapidly, stimulated by the heat and friction it was receiving.
Italy shouted wantonly, his inside craving something more. "Ludwig! Ludwig, il mio amore! No more... I'm suffering..." he wept feebly. Ludwig nearly came from those words and quickly shoved the man down on top of him. Feliciano screamed in sweet agony as his insides were pierced with a searing lance. He had but only a moment before that very spear plunged withdrew and plunged again repeatedly inside.
Again and again Ludwig impaled his hot member into Feliciano's hot depths, nearly barking in ecstasy at the tortuous tight wet depths that seemed to swallow him deeper and deeper. Italy's mind had long since gone blank, only left with the endless pleasure that consumed him. The burning rod continued its endless dives that melted his insides to liquids. Saliva dripped down his chin, mixing with the tears that shed from his eyes with bliss.
Germany growled and ground his hips as deep as they would go, trembling at the way the little red head squeezed around him. Pushing him down, the man lifted his legs in the air and slapped his pelvis powerfully into him. Italy had to balance on his elbows and keened at each impalement, feeling himself ready to burst. How wickedly the man's cock stroked his sweet core till stars speckled his vision.
Ludwig's voice rose and reamed even harder. So close, he was so close.
Suddenly Feliciano turned his body. Gazing up at the sex god above him he held his arms out to him pleadingly, his sweet brown eyes shining with tears. "Ti amo, il mio Ludwig... Lo ti amo!" Germany's heart swelled so much in his chest he thought it would bust out. Throwing his arms around him, Ludwig spoke to him in a softer, more tender voice. "Ich auch. Ich liebe dich auch, Feliciano..." It was a pleading frightened voice very unlike the man, but this came from the bottom of his heart. Kissing his harshly, his thrusts buck wildly out of control. Past the point of words all they could do was pant and shake from the mounting pleasure.
The final thread broke and both were crushed in a wave of enrapture and love. Italy lay limply in the man's arms, completely spent. Germany could barely catch his breath, his legs sore from their rough love making. Both were beyond words and settled for kissing each other sloppily. And after their minds were no longer moosh, they still continued to kiss.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ludwig found the previously dropped picnic basket. One of the flaps had been opened and peeking out of it was the panties with the little cartoon wolf that had teased and taunted him all night long. Germany pocketed these for later use. Below him, Italy made the sweetest sound that made him look down. When he did, he gave a harsh gulp. His eyes drooped adoringly with traces of tears that made them sparkle. His lips were puffy and slightly bruised, not to mention his skirt had ridden up and his nether regions were fully exposed. He was ravished and had thoroughly been eaten up... but now the wolf wanted a second helping.
Leaning in for another helping the door of the room suddenly burst opened and collapsed to the floor. The hinges and lock had been snapped right off. The room was dark so the light from the door silhouetted a dark figure whose shadow fell just inches before the two. Heavy leather boots tromped in over the fallen door. Their eyes finally adjusting to the sudden light, the two were just able to make out silver hair and a pair of red colored eyes. "Hallo, West..." he grinned maniacally, streams of blood and drool running down his face.
"Gilbert!?" interjected Germany, trying to cover himself and Italy. "What the hell are you doing here!? Get out; we're just... uh... JUST GET OUT!" But Gilbert didn't seem to hear. All he saw was a very satisfied little red riding hood and a golden eared wolf that looked very full. His smiled only seemed to spread which creeped his brother out. "Uh, G-gilbert?"
"Oh my... What a ripe little tomato and a damn sexy wolf we have here..." If he could smile any broader Prussia's face would have cracked in two.
Ludwig broke out into a cold sweat. "Uhhh, Gilbert..."
Then he laughed an extremely low and frightful laugh that had the hairs on Germany's head standing straight up. Whipping out his crop, Prussia snapped it on his boot, gave a loud batle cry and surged forth. "Bereit oder nicht... Hier kommt der wahre große böse Wolf!"
From within the room, furniture crashed and splintered as they were hurled about along with fists, crops, and swear words. "Come here my cute little West. I won't bite... hard..."
"Gilbert! Get a hold of yoursel- AH-AH-AHHHH! WHERE ARE YOU TOUCHING!"
"Oh me oh my, is this a wurst in your pocket?"
"EH! Quit that! Vhat the- YOU! DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH ITALY!"
Heilige Scheiße - Holy shit
Berühren Sie nicht- Don't touch
Ich werde dich töten! - I'll kill you!
Dann lassen Sie die Jagd beginnen - Then let the hunt begin.
ausschweifung - debauchery
rollenspiel orgien- role-playing orgies
Umso besser für dich fressen kann - the better to eat you with.
weichen - soft
Mit Vergnügen - with pleasure
Ich auch. Ich liebe dich auch - So do I. I love you too
Bereit oder nicht... Hier kommt der wahre große böse Wolf - ready or not... here comes the big bad wolf
il mio amore - My love
Ti amo - I love you