It was another lazy Sunday in the shitty apartment of Ludwig Beilschmidt. Normally, he spent his Sundays going to church with his husband, Feliciano, and then spending the rest of the day at the park or somewhere else similar, enjoying each others company. Of course, that was all before the divorce. Now the Italian man wouldn't even spare Germany a second glance. And that first glance was always filled with malice. Of course, he hadn't really seen much of Italy after that, since he moved in with Prussia. And Germany didn't really talk to his brother anymore, considering he stole his babe, his one true love...
Things had been rough for Germany since the divorce...
So here he was, his ass almost permanently glued to the couch cushion, partly because it was awfully cumstained. He had to move into this apartment after the divorce, since when Italy left, he could no longer pay the rent. And since he lost his job as a beekeeper, he couldn't really afford much else than this sub par place. But it was fine with Germany. It's not like he really cared about anything anymore.
Regardless, he liked to fill the void with many things. And when he was done filling up his void, he liked to watch some television, like he was doing currently. After some trial and error, he found that watching the news made him feel a bit better about his pathetic existence, considering he hadn't lost a limb or been murdered (yet). He shifted lower into a more comfortable position and skipped the commercials until he saw his program returning (sure he was pathetic, but why not take advantage of technology?).
He froze and stared at the screen in awe.
It was him.
"And now we're here with Feliciano Vargas," the news reporter said in a loud voice. "Now Mr. Vargas, could you please remind us what you're campaigning for today?"
"Well sir," Italy said into the big microphone pointed at him. Germany hadn't heard his silky smooth voice in months. He slowly slid off the couch to get closer to the screen. "I'm campaigning for easier divorce for unhappily married people! I was stuck in a terrible marriage with a cheating, obsessive man for way longer than I wanted because he wouldn't sign the divorce papers! I think we need to change the laws so that it's easier for people like me to get out of a mess like that!"
At this point, the words Italy said weren't even registering in his mind; all he could focus on was his smooth face, his perfect pixie nose, the relaxing rhythm of his words, the pleasant lilt of his heavenly voice, the way he used his hands to express himself, the way his tongue stuck out when he was thinking...
Germany remembered quite well what those hands and tongue could do.
Before he knew what happened, Germany had an erection. It pressed hot and uncomfortable against his tight bicycle shorts, begging to be let out, begging for that Italian booty...
And trust him, his dick was definitely going to plunder for some treasure.
With his eyes trained on his ex-husband's face, he grabbed for his remote and paused the screen (again, taking advantage of technology). With his face this close to the screen, Germany could see the colored pixels making up the shape of his love's form, but he didn't care. He stared lovingly into Italy's angry eyes as he slowly rolled down his suffocating bicycle shorts. He let his hand fall down to his aching penis, stroking it gently in preparation, even though he was already at full arousal just from watching the lips of his previous lover. He quickly grabbed some lube from his coffee table, generously spreading it all over his tiny, throbbing ding a ling. He stood up slightly, just enough so that his dick was level with Italy's gorgeous face on the screen.
Germany gathered up all of his sexual frustration, his loneliness, his desires and regrets into one surging burst, violently thrusting his dick against his television screen. He didn't mind that the lube blurred his beautiful Feliciano's image, because he had many memories of that lovely face to keep him aroused. He rubbed his dick against the screen, enjoying the smoothness of the screen, and the few shocks it gave his cock.
He grabbed the sides of the outdated television, exerting his full force to viciously grind against the tv at such a pace that it was becoming painful. But that was good, oh so good. He pressed on until one of his thrusts wasn't aimed correctly. At such an odd angle, and with the force Germany was pouring out his emotions into his thrusts, it was just enough to snap his penis. Germany paused at the popping noise.
He had fractured his penis. Pain immediately flooded his penile region, and man, oh man, it was hot. Germany immediately resumed thrusting, each movement sending sharp, burning pain through his cock. He loved it. He came almost immediately after. "Please!" he shouted as waves of pleasure exploded throughout him. However, no semen was leaked onto Italy's face, since his penis was fractured at such an angle that ejaculation was impossible.
Germany didn't go to the doctor. He was fine with his penis at this new angle; it was just more fun for him! It complemented Herr Stick, who was still crammed deep in his urethra.
The end! :D