The Story Of The Kinky Hair Curls
Romano sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the too soft couch. He missed Spain's chest and how firm it was. But that bastard wasn't getting any tonight, no way. That jerk stole all of his tomatoes, so Romano cussed him out for like three hours then went to go hang with his brother. There was only one problem: Italy didn't want to leave that damn potato bastard's house.
Fuck this, Romano thought as he through himself onto the floor. The house was dark and unfamiliar to him, having never been inside. Germany hadn't minded his spending the night, but Romano was pissed. Why couldn't he and his brother have just gone home? That potato bastard was most likely abusing his fratello,and there was a creeper who lived in the basement. The only thing Romano knew about this Prussia character was that screams of "Kesesesesesesese!" and weird bird chirps came from his den. A strange curiosity came over the Italian, making him suddenly want to learn more about the creature in the basement.
The house moaned in the wind from outside, but Romano was not afraid. The stairs leading down into the basement creaked with an ominous tone, but Romano was not scared. The door was stained with a dark substance that shined scarlet in the moonlight from the narrow window, but Romano had not shat himself. No, Romano was completely confident that he would be fine as he twisted the doorknob. Prussia was a country, just like he was. Couldn't be any worse than Austria, at best. This was a potato bastard, not a scone sucker.
The basement reeked of pure, undiluted awesome. Romano recognized the scent well. He'd worn the cologne for several years now.
A single red neon light bulb lit the room giving it an eerie demonic glow. A messy desk covered in paper and garbage was in one corner, while a small potted tree was in another, covered with sleeping yellow birds, all sighing happily. In the third corner was a stack of diaries, next to a door labeled Diary Storage. The walls were covered in pictures of a man with white hair and red eyes, some with France and Spain included. Romano guessed this was Prussia. He'd never really given half a shit about Spain's friends. They were all douche bags trying to steal DAT ASS, in his eyes. Especially France. Especially France.
The fourth and final place where two wall intersected was occupied by a large bed where Prussia lay spread out snoring in nothing but a pair of cherry red boxers. The bed was surrounded by discarded assortments of chains, clothing, and various sex toys.
Romano smirked. Kinky bastard. Hmm, what else was down here that he could mess with? Oh, a closet!
Tiptoeing over to the unadorned door, Romano eased it open quietly, so as not to disturb the creeper's sleep. Suddenly, he found himself jerked into the darkness, a hand shoved over his mouth. Before he could begin to struggle, he looked up and saw icy blue eyes staring down at him. Germany?
"What are you doing here?" Germany looked down at Romano in confusion.
Romano straightened his shirt and said, "Spying on your brother, bastard."
"Ah. I was just doing the same thing."
And so the two sat there, watching Prussia mumble in his dreams about how awesome he was.
Italy woke up shuddering, cold and alone. Where was Germany? Where was his big, strong, manly blanket?
He'd had another nightmare about England coming to feed him again, this one worse than all the others. Nothing but burnt pasta. How could you burn pasta of all thing?
Laying in a pool of his own tears of anguish, Italy yearned for Germany, but he wasn't there. Why?
Wrapping a blanket around himself (for it was cold even in spring, or this was Germany), Italy rose out of bed. He wandered around the house, looking for Germany, and then his brother. When he didn't find either, he decided to go and sleep with Prussia. You always have to have someone in bed with you after a bad dream!
He knew the way to the basement well. He and Prussia had played games down here before (not in that way(speaking to Ronna here)), and Italy had enjoyed them immensely. Prussia was a good friend.
"Prussia~I had a bad dream. Can I sleep with you?"
There was a mini explosion of concentrated joy as Prussia broke out of the deepest stage of sleep when he heard these words. He stared long and hard at Italy, making sure he wasn't dreaming, and then he checked again when he realized Italy was wearing nothing but a blanket thrown around his shoulders.
"Come here, little Italy. The awesome Prussia will make it all better."
Italy threw himself into Prussia's open arms while Germany and Romano watched, shocked, from the closet.
"Yes, Kesesesesesesese, it will be fine," Prussia muttered contentedly as he stroked Italy's hair gently. With his other hand, he rubbed the now sleepy pasta lover's back. Meanwhile, in the chaotic storm of awesomeness that is Prussia's brain, all his systems were flat lining. This was too perfect, too awesome. All of his focus right now was on Italy and the invasion of vital regions.
While he wasn't paying attention, Prussia's hand had strayed to Italy's curl, and this is where the real fun begins, so children, if you're reading, LEAVE.
Italy jerked forward, startled by the sudden stimulation.
"Prussia?" he managed to get out before he felt tingles spreading through him. This feeling was...
Prussia began stroking the curl up and down, playing with it, enjoying the feel of it between his fingers. This was rather enchanting, watching Italy beg for mercy on top of him. He'd lain back down, to get comfortable, and it was pretty awesome when he felt Italy get incredibly hard against him.
"No~Prussia~Stop~"
Italy was moaning loudly, his voice hitching violently as Prussia wound the single strand of hair around his finger. He wanted it, yes, but did he really want it?
But then Prussia jerked the curl sharply, and it was decided. Italy was going to get some, or everyone was going to die.
Using some kind of inhuman strength born from pure horniness, Italy managed to roll Prussia on top of him.
"Fuck me! Prussia, I want you to-ah~"
Prussia had shoved one of his fingers inside of Italy insanely fast, and was reaching for a random bottle of strawberry flavored lube. Another finger, and Italy let out a whimper. After entering a third, Italy was digging claw marks into Prussia's back.
Taking it that Italy was sufficiently ready to go, Prussia pulled out, then coated his thick, manly cock in the sweet smelling lubricant. Italy let out a sigh of protest, but was soon crying out in pain and ecstasy as Prussia thrusted his full length inside of him.
"Shh, the awesome me will make it feel better soon, I promise..." Prussia was whispering sweet nothings into Italy's ear, who by this time had wrapped his legs around the albino and was crooning, absolutely begging, for more.
Germany and Romano were speechless. Well, Germany anyway.
"What is this...I don't even..."
While Germany tended to his boner's needs in the corner of the closet, Romano wiped the blood from his eyes with a white dress shirt he found. Then, after composing himself suitably, he charged out of the closet.
"THE FUCK YOU THINK YOU"RE DOING TO MAH BABEH BROTHER! YOU DAMN COCK SUCKING POTATO BASTARD!CHIGI!"
Prussia had just reached orgasm when Romano literally yanked him out of Italy just to head butt him.
"Ow, what the hell!" (Prussia)
"Wah~Romano!"(Italy)
"MOTHERFUCKER!" (Romano)
"Almost there, ah, ah ah EH~" (Germany XD)
"So I got scared and Prussia just did what Germany does whenever I get scared or if he's bored or something."
It was the next morning and the four of them sat at Germany's kitchen table, trying to figure out just what the hell had happened last night. No and Prussia were bot sporting many bruises and cuts from the evenings events while Italy was perched awkwardly on Germany's lap since Prussia had basically annihilated his ass.
Germany was feeling like he only calm one as he took a long draft of his beer. Fucking bunch of crazies, every one of them.
Romano was spitting fire. "I knew you potato bastards were abusing him, I just didn't know that you raped him on a daily basis!"
Prussia laughed. "Its not rape if you like it."
Italy had to hold Romano back as he lifted the table to beat Prussia with it.
"No Romano, they're good people, honest!"
"Shut up, fratello. These are bastards, and must be treated as such. Now let big brother kick some ass, please."
Italy was crying again. "No Romano, no! I wanted Prussia to play with me! We're friends! That's what friends do, isn't it? Spain told me you and him do it all the time!"
As Romano exploded into over 9,000 pieces in his rage, France and Spain walked in.
"Mmm, I can smell the scent of lust and fulfilled desire in this house. Who banged?"
Spain smacked France on the head and put Romano back together quickly.
"What the hell happened? Tell Boss all about it."
"What the fuck did you tell Italy about siesta time for? Damn you!"
Spain shrugged and grinned while Romano exploded again, Germany and Prussia started double teaming Italy on the kitchen floor, and France found a baby with a name tag that said Ronna from the yaoi stork.
THERE'S YOUR PORN. HAVE A NICE DAY SKANK