Knock, knock
"Monsieur France? We 'ave arrived." The wealthy looking door of the luxurious Victorian styled room opened, revealing a colourfully dressed sailor of French linage addressing their traveller. Australia's eyes blinked open tiredly, letting her push her upper body up onto her arms and stretch.
"...Francis?" As her blurred vision returned to focus, she watched at the reddened mess of a man standing, staring at her from the doorway. Confused, she scratched her head and looked down. Even as she looked down, she found something else staring back at her; her cold-erected nipples open and bare for all prying eyes to see. Gasping, she covered them back over with her hands and shoo-ed the Frenchman away. Her face was flustered crimson, but her mind was racing; why the hell was she naked?
A sudden movement from her right made her remember the entire mess of that night instantly.
She actually did it. She had sex with France...
The blonde beauty of a nation turned his head up, shading his eyes from the painful sunlight that made its entrance to his awaking sky orbs. He smiled as he saw the chaotic fallow hair of the sitting woman, joining her in getting up.
"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Jarlotte." He grinned sweetly. She turned her head to her side, dropping her arms and revealing her poorly-covered breasts again.
"G-day, Francis." Wow... The rays of the rising sun did extraordinarily well to suit the enticing European as his smile sparkled only for her. With a twinkle in his eye, his gaze turned briefly towards her stripped body, examining every tiny detail he couldn't witness that night, before glancing back into the precious dark eyes of her.
"We're back at France, by the way." She yawned, stretching her arms high above her head. Taking this opportunity, France eyed at her crotch, deciding fastly to place his head there and watch her from a different angle. The sudden pressure to her hip made her flinch, hissing at a strange pain that transpired, then turning down to face the eyes that carefully examined her from under her breasts. He smirked with a perverse strain.
"Last night was stupéfiant." He dreamily complimented. To her, that was close to an understatement, but she couldn't find the right words that could describe just how much she had enjoyed her time with France. His hand travelled up to his lengthy golden locks, flicking them so sweetly, causing them to tingle Australia's stomach eccentrically before caressing his own cheek with a sly wink, "Care for a zecond round~?"
"A second round with my hips? Gotta' be kidding me! I'll be lucky if I can even walk after that poundin'." She scoffed.
"Well if you didn't tease me so much, I would've 'ad better control and would've been nicer." He pouted back, sticking out his lips childishly. The slim sheila sighed defeated and lifted his head off her lap, allowing herself to slide out of the cover. Her delicate feet traced the wooden panels and forced her body to rise. However, as soon as she stood, her body tumbled down onto the ground.
"Are you alright?" France spun off the bed concerned, aiding to her side quickly.
"Yeah... I wasn't lucky after all." France swung her arm around his broad shoulders and helped her back onto her feet, letting her lean on him desperately and cling to his chest with the other hand.
"Ta'." She blushed finally seeing the stunning figure of her sex partner in the light. He was even better in the light; she could see exactly where his muscles defined, although he didn't have as much of a muscular body, but rather a sexy, lanky one. She preferred it that way anyway.
"I think I'll get in the shower... Can ya, by any chance, carry me over to the bathroom?"
"Only if I can join you."
"Keep your hands to yourself and it's all dan-didgeridoo."
"But zat's no fun! I can wash your back if you want me too... Along wiz zee rest of your gorgeous body."
"Somehow that makes me think that you're trying to find a way to clean mi insides too."
"I can do zat too!" His charming and very alluring voice tempted her - a lot - but she knew that it would have been a bad idea to trust him to not do anything funny. Still, what would the harm be in it? Maybe she could... No! Don't fall for it! She felt war going through her head between conscious and pleasure; and France could sense that she was thinking about it. He smirked, knowing that while she was thinking, he could easily lead her to the bathroom that was attached to the bedroom without her realising. So that's exactly what he did.
The sound of rushing water brought Charlotte from her battling thoughts with a shock. Her eyes travelled to the naked bloke testing the heat of the hastening waterfall before he turned around smirking devilishly; the same expression he gave her just before he seduced her. She loved that look on his outstandingly beautiful face.
"We 'ave to get 'ome soon, so I cannot do much anyway." He reasoned placing her into the tub fit for royalty and against the tiled wall. Climbing in next to her, France placed his lean arm next to her head and closed a gap between their soaking bodies, closing the floral curtain behind him blindly. Aussie could feel his heated breath on her bare back as he huddled against her under the running liquid. She tried again to keep her balance on her own two feet, but again, she fell, this time she fell backwards, right back into the peering pervert's chest. He pulled her up again, not letting go of her body in order to let her sustain herself, but still be propped up against him.
He grinned impishly, loving the fact that he would have full control over her this time around. He wouldn't do anything that she didn't want, but he would certainly do what he could to make her lose it like had had managed to do last night. He didn't really understand why she suddenly felt so horny, but he did understand that she had an extremely sensitive body; one that could be used to his advantage.
He began.
First, he grabbed the shower gel, massaging her shoulders effortlessly, touching over her responsive parts with force, but still only massaging. She sighed pleasantly as his smooth hands ran its course over her pleasurable skin, pressing down in circular motions over and over, making sure to hit every little detail around her upper chest and shoulders. The soaping bubbles glided slowly down her beautiful body, covering every part of her silken skin.
"I can s-still use my hands, France, ta'. Y-You don't n-need to wash me." Her voice disagreed desperately against her actions, telling France a subliminal message to continue just how he was. Taking the hint, he nudged her hair away with his nose in order to uncover her ear. She breathed deeply as his talented fingers caressed her carefully; hitting all the parts that drove her to that daunting cliffside she was drawn to, wanting to climb it every time she passed it. If it wasn't enough, his gracious lips gently touched over her ear shell, nipping it so controlled and loved. He began licking the falling drips of water from around her shell, sending strange shivers over the girl's spine whilst gaining the salty yet succulent taste of her sweat mixed in with the purity of the shower water.
"I-I knew I sh-shouldn't of trusted ya."She whined, trying to regain the rhythm of her normal breathing. He stopped going around her lobe, instead using his precious pink muscle to lick around the inside, just before her ear's entrance, and then come to a standstill with a slight husk in his whisper.
"Do you want me to stop?"
She couldn't answer him. If she said yes, she'd lose against her body's desire, but no meant that he had won. Either way, there was no way she wanted him to stop now. The unanswered question rung in her ear as he kissed along her jaw and neck, sucking the salty water off of her receptive points with much less force as yesterday, but much more passion. The hands massaging her shoulders decided to move along down her curved back, dexterously moving over her spine and blades, skilfully down her curvy sides and butt. He had a lot of practice; she could tell – every diminutive movement he done made her want to bellow in contentment. Why did he have to be so addictive? On her butt, he squeezed tenderly, allowing her to moan quietly. Everything he done was perfect on her tender figure; he was a drug that she had gotten captivated to on the first dose.
One of his hands remained flattened against her well rounded ass as the other followed its path back up to her curves, but changing directions to her stomach instead. With his fingers dancing along down onto her thigh, the others dancing towards her breasts, her gasps became much more audio-ed. Nothing was stopping him now, especially not her. Finally, the pace of his hands sped slightly, reaching to grab the first of her abundant chest as the other drew small lines across the top of her thigh, ever so close to her wanting heat.
"Jarlotte..." He purred huskily into her ear, "You're so beautiful." His lips touched back down onto the base of her neck, kissing it as tender as kissing a baby's cheek, as he let his fingers run wild over her. She couldn't say anything; she was too out of her senses as the delicate touch blessed her wondrously. She always had enjoyed having rough sex, so having such an affectionate and adroit man such as France do all sorts of things across her aching frame brought her over to a different high, but still one she enjoyed particularly.
The speeding water pelted against her chest as she leant her head back into France's, giving him a brilliant view of her chest. He grasped it sweetly, playing with it much kinder than he had earlier; this time he was back in control of his sanity, so he could focus on pleasuring his partner much better than thinking of himself. The one thing he cared for the most was making sure she felt good.
He pushed her forward, putting her hands against the wall containing the shower head and leaning her away from him again. Although her legs were still shaking and ready to give way, he tried to keep her steadily upright as his fingers penetrated her blossom. With two, he repeatedly impelled her entrance, with another, he stroked along her clit caringly, letting her groan and collapse further towards the support her hands, and now her forearms, rested upon. He quickly noticed something was different about her flower, finding that it was already filled with a liquid that did not belong to her. Francis removed his fingers and inspected it silently, finding it running down her trim thighs as he pulled out.
"It looks like we will 'ave to clean your insides too after all." He smirked as she panted, deficient. She turned her head around with half shut, ardent eyes. Using his other hand, France grabbed the chin of the laboured breath female softly, pulling at her lips to open them. She couldn't register what was going on; she was still in a daze from his experienced handle. Only swiftly he pecked her open luscious lips, and instead placed his soaked fingers onto her tongue, letting her gain every last taste of his cum from the night before, when she decided not to continue to taste it in the first place. Instinctively, her lips closed around them, licking hungrily over them and in between, taking everything he tasted in. It was a divine taste; one that made her crave for more.
As soon as he pulled his fingers out again, they re-entered into her, opening her up and letting the rest of his seed pour out as his own jaw locked with hers in a loving dance between their tongues. She panted desperately as he hit her g-spot over and over using his gifted, extensive tips to rub her all around, both inside and out. There was no preventing her stomach from tossing over as she felt herself once again cumming over him; what he did to her wasn't even human. It was flipping ecstasy! Her huffs and moans sped up increasingly to the point of no return as her orgasm reached, snapping the tightening rope from inside in pieces and screaming. Why didn't she start this with France sooner? He certainly knew the works.
The shower's searing hose hit France's brow kindly as he removed his fingers again, this time to stay out as she composed both her breathing and her body for the second time that day. He was very much satisfied at his work; satisfied enough not to need a returning favour from her, and instead letting her finally wash herself down as she had wanted to do in the first place.
"Now I can see why you're so popular..." She breathed, collapsing down onto the tub floor. France couldn't stop himself from chuckling at her gratification filled features.
"I'll get your clozes ready for our journey 'ome." With a very faint nod from Australia, he pulled open the curtains again and climbed out, taking one last look at her as she sat in a frog-like position, her legs opened wide to help her orgasm calm down, before turning to the towels, grabbing himself one and heading back into the bedroom.
There was nothing better than sharing a morning with another to France... or a day... or night. But to actually have someone he loved was completely different to just ordinary sex; it was more satisfying. He found it strange however, she had never shown any sort of interest in him before, but now she's accepting his advances as if they had been up to it for years. Well, he had been trying for years. It was terribly unfortunate that their homes were on the opposite sides of the world; who knows what he could have done if they saw each other more often?
He stared out of the window as he rapidly dried his platinum locks, smiling nostalgically as his homeland came to view. Ah, France was such a magical country, one that he was very patriotic to. The country of love as they said with the wondrous smells of gorgeous French cuisine from all around, the joyous faces of happy couples everywhere the eye could see, beautiful French music blaring through from the streets as the same couples watch the performers, some even joining to dance along at their fantastic playing skills. He could even taste the atmosphere of home. Why did he even leave this amazing country to go to boring Britain anyway? There was nowhere he enjoyed more than France. Before he got lost in his own little world, Francis turned back away and headed over to the drawers of his guest's clothing, pulling out all he found suitable for the luscious bébé to wear in his homeland. However, he was left disgusted at her choice in clothing; they were so bland! All she seemed to consist of was her military clothing, her singlets and shorts, some bikinis and surfer suit, and... 'Allô! What is zis?'
Australia turned the taps back off, using every part of her strength to keep her from falling over again. Damn that sexy Frenchman, doing all that to her even though she had made it quite clear that she didn't want him to. No, she didn't regret it; she just wished that he wasn't so bloody attractive. Those fingers of his were a blessing and a curse now that she had experienced just exactly what he could do first hand.
She stepped out of the bathtub and pulled out another towel, letting it hug her tightly around her moist body. There was a single full length mirror in the corner of the richly designed room that was fogged up completely, so she wiped it down carefully and stared at her wrapped body with scrutinizing eyes. She knew that she had an attractive figure, but she still felt extremely ordinary compared to how absolutely beautiful the other female countries were; so why did France focus so much on her? Now that she thought about it, he hadn't flirted very much with the female countries, only the males. It was strange, but she didn't ponder. He only wanted her for sex and she knew that; it was the only reason she wanted him too. She didn't love him, he didn't love her, and it was only the pleasure of two people.
Sometimes she wondered what it would have been like to be in love; she had never felt it before and was beginning to wonder if she would ever find someone to settle with. After all, she was a woman first, then a country. But, at her age, she wanted to mess around; there was nothing better than experimentation and there was no way she was going to get tied down any time soon, if she ever found the person to be tied down with that was.
Her hips swayed painfully as she walked back into the bedroom, getting a good eyeful from the loveable pervert while sitting on the edge of the bed, her back to him once again.
"Jarlotte..." He purred questionably. Something shivered down her spine as she listened to his voice dripping with ardour, "You really are a lot different to what I expected." His accent was thick and very playful. She turned her body to face him with a, at first, questionable look, but then a horribly embarrassed gaze when she saw exact what he was holding between his fingers.
"A babydoll like zis? How érotique..." He chuckled his stereotypical laugh, eyeing the black negligee with delight. It was very skimpy with a translucent floral pattern over the chest, with her favourable lace drooping down diagonally from the large bow in the centre of where the cleavage would be, pulling her breasts together tighter. It was certainly something she shouldn't have brought with her in the first place, but she should have expected France to get a hold of it.
"So it says 14C here... Zat will be 95D in France, no?" He slyly gazed over to her cherry red cheeks. Why was she getting so embarrassed? It wasn't like no one had ever seen her lingerie before, or her wearing the same spaghetti strapped babydoll he held. But she didn't want him knowing her bra size; what sort of sexual and erotic clothing will she receive as presents from him now? Forgetting her hip pain, she threw her body across the bed to try and reach the gown before he got any strong ideas.
"Give it to me, Francis!" She swiped for the clothing, mistakenly letting go of her towel without realising. He stepped back, quickly gazing to her uncovered side. Only half of her body was uncovered, which meant the towel fell alluringly in place between her cleavage and between her thighs. Her hair was still very wet, as well as her body from the shower, meaning small droplets ran down her skin gorgeously while her hair clung down over her nipple and across the bed chaotically. He could almost have sworn there was blood dripping from his nose just by looking at her, but that would have been impossible, right?
"Ohonhonhon~! Such a naughty girl! Was what I did for you not enough?" He winked.
"Ya know what I mean!" She scowled, not amused. What he had done was much more than enough, and hopefully she'd be able to get it from him again as soon as she felt her hips were able to take it. Of course, she would never admit it to him.
"You'll 'ave to be nicer if you want it." He ran across the room, clutching her lingerie tightly to his chest, playfully avoiding her as she tried everything she could to chase after him. There was no way he was going to let her win easily.
After a few minutes of cursing, failed running, and lose of breath, Aussie had enough of trying. She grabbed the bed post as she stood on her, now fully dried, legs and huffed, thinking of the best solution that wouldn't mean another seducing technique. Well, at least not for this moment in time.
"Hey, Francis." She leant closer to the bed post, running her finger slowly up and down the design with a very sexy glint in her eye, "If you let me have my babydoll back, I can wear it just for you... And I'll let you do whatever you want to me." She managed to get him to stop at least, but he didn't seem at all convinced.
"'Ow do I know zat you're not lying?" She dropped the rest of her towel, revealing it all to him. She excruciatingly placed her foot onto the bed, covering her womanhood as her arms stretched upwards of the wooden post. Her back curved, making her lean away and push her breasts out, but push her flower in.
"You'll just 'ave to trust me. There is a lot that I'd be able to do just for you~" At this moment, France was very willing to take the chance. Resisting her as she positioned herself to pole-dance? There was no way he could! He stepped back up to her, handing over the sexual clothing with a perverted glance. She slowly removed his grip, pushing her face forward so it was only a few inches away from his, licking her lips sensationally, before yanking the clothing away, as well as herself. She laughed manically as he blinked back into reality.
"Méchant! You said I should trust you!"
"And ya listened ta me, for once." She laughed, packing it back into her suitcase, "I'll do it, but I never said when."
"So mean!"
Charlotte grinned at her work and got herself dressed in her usual brown shorts and plain, this time an off-pink, singlet with a pair of underwear that was unfortunately chosen by France after some whining and argumentive persuasion; at least she managed to convince him against the babydoll.
"We should get going, Francis. This is my last day before I 'ave to return ta mi 'omeland." France frowned as she reminded him. They had only just started getting physically closer and now she had to leave.
"Could you not convince your superior to let you stay for longer?" He asked with a hint of disappointment.
"Afraid not, mate, I've already overdone it." She was just as sad; it had been so long since she had been with France, and even longer since she had seen some of the other countries, but now she had to return to her island away from the Europeans. But, she vowed that she'd see them again soon, even if it meant bringing them to her. Too bad her bloody mongrel was such a strict bastard or she'd leave more often.
"Well, let's go 'ome then. Maybe we can enjoy ourselves for zis last night togezer~."
"Just le' me be able ta walk next morn', okay?"
"Zere are no promises."
She rolled her eyes and headed out.
France fiddled with the lock and opened the door, allowing his female partner to enter kindly. Just looking over the splendidly decorated mansion made all sorts of jealousy enter the Australian, but still she absolutely adored his taste; maybe she should ask him to decorate her home at one point. Then again, she had been telling herself that since she first met the sharp sailor back in the 18th century.
They closed the door behind them and glided into the living room. France quickly sorted manners as he opened the expensive bleu drapes and pour out some vin rouge for himself and his guest, getting comfortable on the gorgeous sofa and patting a seat next to him with a sly wink for the fair-haired beauty to sit.
"I'm going ta take mi stuff into your room." She said without any sort of discussion to the matter. Of course, she already knew that he would have no sort of objection what-so-ever. She just didn't want him to get her tipsy enough to try anything again. Sure, she was defiantly no light-weight, but he just had his ways of getting her to do everything that could lead to his wondering hands. Aussie sighed and walked out, only to hearing the knock of the front door. France scowled, but removed from his seat to find out who disturbed his quality time with his favourite woman.
"Ah, bonjour, come in." She heard him address the guest. She couldn't hear who else was with him, but the way France had begin cooing and whining, she had assumed it was someone familiar. Was it someone she knew? She hoped so; it would have been nice to keep someone who could protect her from Francis's attempts. After placing her belongings into the unbelievably breath-taking bedroom, she headed back into the living room in order to answer her wondering question. Before she could even look at the mysterious person, the front door was forced open, revealing an extremely familiar cutie.
"Big brother France!" He called, laughing with a care-free grin. He pelted over to the older man, hugging him with force.
"Italy! It has been a while, no?" France smiled back, patting his head caringly.
"Italy!" Australia gasped. Her eyes were bulging out of her sockets as his arms dropped from the Frenchman and turned to her instead.
"Big sister Australia!" He screeched, flying into her open arms and giggled with delight.
"Wow, it's been so long! Look how much you've grown!" She grinned, pulling his head into her chest with compassion. She didn't realise just where his face was buried, but France certainly did.
"'Ey! Zat place is reserved for my face only!" He scowled, trying to pull Italy away from her bosom. Aussie didn't take any notice to France, but held onto her younger, much cuter friend tightly. They weren't siblings, or related in any way, but when she had more time to see France, she had seen Italy too. She would always care for him and make sure that he was safe, especially from France, and covered his innocent ears every time he tried teaching him something he didn't need to know at his tender age. How much she loved his smiling face and his wonderful paintings. Italy and France had painted together on a few occasions before and she was very impressed on how talented they both were. She wanted a sibling like Italy too, which is why she loved to see him so much.
A sudden clearing of a throat brought the gleeful brunette out of her reminiscing world. There before the three was another figure: a tall, well toned, blond, lightly dressed man. It took a few seconds, but Australia quickly remembered just who it was before her.
"Ah, Germany, G'day, mate. I didn't see ya there." She greeted him, finally letting Italy out of her chest, and push France away before he tried replacing Italy.
"Yes, Guten morgen." He replied, standing straight with dignity. There was something about the German which was quite attractive, although he shared the same sky eyes as France, and almost the same coloured hair, he was nothing like the loving loser.
"I just vanted to give you this." Germany held out his right hand, showing a baggy piece of rounded cloth with some corks attached to string around the brim of it.
"Mi hat! Ta'! I was wonderin' what 'appened to that little blighter." She beamed, reaching out for it. Grabbing it, she threw it comfortably back onto her brow and winked with a casual pose. There was nothing better than her keepsake hat.
"Vell, that vas all; I have to get going as I am very busy." Did this guy really put up with Italy? They seemed almost completely different! They say opposites attract, but this was more than just a perfect example!
"Wait, Germany. Ya sure ya can't stay for a long neck? I can't let ya 'ave victory over me just yet!"
"Vell... Maybe one pint before I go... But I von't challenge you whilst at France's. I don't trust him enough to do that."
"If you're going to be rude, you can leave!" France spited. He always got worked up when he was insulted, but he tended to get insulted quite often.
"Alright, maybe next time. Let's just 'ave a talk over a long neck then ya can do what ya like. Italy, ya joining us?"
"Sì! Maybe I can make some pasta while I'm here."
"There isn't enough time for that, Italy." German scowled like he was taking care of a small child.
"Oh Ludwig, there is always time for pasta!" Italy ran out into the kitchen, soon followed by the acquaintances and an ignored France from the back.
"Ludwig, huh? Mind if I call you that?" Australia politely asked, checking over for an approval. Germany turned to the brunette, diverting his gaze only slightly as she said his name.
"Oh, sure. But I vould much prefer Germany vhen in vorld meeting or any other business matter."
"Yeah, alright then. Mine's Charlotte." Germany nodded with a small grunt. As they walked into the kitchen, Australia pulled out a beer bottle she had kept for her sake while with France on her trip and gave it over to the lofty man.
"Francis, can you get my wine for me please, mate?"
"Even better, I can 'ave a sip of my wine and then let you drink it from my mouth~" He winked, swishing his own glass of pure wine in his hand. Australia turned to him with a very embarrassed, sharp glare.
"Not while there are guests, France!" She snapped her cheeks flustered more than she had wanted.
"Oh, so after zey are gone?" He smirked; she was far too easy to set up.
"No! Ya know what? I'll get it myself." Quickly, she stormed out in hope to take the awkward atmosphere with her. France just laughed at her easy blushes as she passed. With a quick pinch of her butt, she yelped and hit him on the arm, fastening her pace as she went into the living room.
"Elle est si mignonne." France took a sip of his glass and smirked. Germany and Italy didn't say or do much; they were use to what France got up to by now and had to deal with it themselves every once in a while. However, he had only tried hitting on Germany once... it didn't end well for France. And of course, now that Italy was under his care, France didn't try anything on Italy either.
Once Charlotte had returned with her liquor, she, Germany, Italy and France begun merry-making, with Italy eating some pasta, Germany having a beer and France doing everything perverse to Australia, making her very embarrassed with each antique; she did end up trapping herself in a corner quite often after all.
They watched casually as their guests took their leave, smiling, waving, saying that'll they see them again soon. It was slightly saddening for the Aussie; she hadn't seen Italy for so many years, and Germany was showing to being a good man, despite his menacing appearance. That was the last straw; there was no way she was going years without seeing her friends again: a party was to be sorted as soon as she was back in her home country. It was rare that anyone came over to her place, besides France and her little sister, New Zealand, so maybe a barbie was in order.
The magnificent door was closed nicely, leaving the brunette alone once again with the pansexual fiend. Hopefully he wouldn't try anything too daring; she was still calming down after his actions that morning. Was it even possible that she was still twitching from her orgasm? Bloody Frenchman; he really was a drug. Instead of grabbing her like usual, the glorious blonde just walked back over to the settee without a single word, letting his partner follow him oddly.
"So, France, since its mi last day, what do ya wanna do? Besides you're usual that is." She kindly pointed out, hoping for something different. Many times she had been on a tour of his nation, but still she found something new to discover. However, she didn't feel like walking much today, so a tour seemed a little too much for her.
"I was zinking more of a fine table, wiz rose petals scattered around and a candle lit for two." He smiled, taking the Aussie by surprise.
"You wanna take me out for dinner?" She questioned, stunned. That had never happened before, and it sounded truly amiable.
"No, not take you out. I shall cook for us both, and enjoy our time togezer on the balcony under a beautiful full moon." He sighed as his own dream world sparkled into his eyes. Francis wanted to cook for her instead? That was so wonderful. She very much enjoyed the stunning man's cooking; he was one of the best chefs she had ever known! Her own smile reached across her lips delightfully.
"Sounds amazing."
"Zere are two condition though," He continued, getting full attention from her, "Un: You must not see what I 'ave planned until I say so." Charlotte raised a neat eyebrow at his condition, but nodded anyway.
"Deux: I want you to wear somezing formal; somezing zat will make you look like a million euro." This condition made her back-up.
"Somethin' formal? I don't know... I don't 'ave anything like that."
"Well, why don't you enjoy some shopping in our beautiful boutiques? Zat way, I can sort everyzing here for when you return."
"I... I guess there's no 'arm in it."
"Grand! Zen, be ready at huit heures. We shall not cross pazs until! Au revoir!" Suddenly hyped up at the date, France took off in a shot over to the balcony to begin preparations. Unlike France, Australia was more laid-back, intending to leave only when it suited her. After all, she still had five hours.
Although the crocodile-fighter had her own womanly side, showing a habit of enjoying shopping, she had always had someone to go with her; she was useless at choosing clothing without the second opinion of someone who had taste. Maybe she should call someone to go with her... But who? France was usually the first person who would help her, but due to circumstances, he wasn't available. Hm... no-one came to mind. Guess she'd have to go alone. Well, Britain was an option, but somehow clothing chosen by Britain may have been a bad idea when having dinner with France. She could have tried Poland but somehow she figured he'd probably wind up buying clothes for himself rather than help her. Sighing deeply, she picked herself up and stretched, getting ready for a panic-y spree.
Now then... she would need: a formal outfit - a dress preferably, some accessories – jewellery and a pair of shoes. There was no need for a bag or a jacket; they were eating in. Also, this outfit was probably only going to be worn the once, so a reasonable price was in order too. Damn it, why did France have this condition? She would have preferred it incredibly if she just wore her singlet.
The French sun fell behind the distinctive horizon beautifully as she wondered around the high street of the wondrous country of her friend. There were so many casual people laughing, flirting, carefree, but she wasn't one of them. Although the Aussie did enjoy shopping when she wasn't either surfing or exploring the outback, she wasn't too happy about being alone to do it. If only her little sister was with her on this trip; at least she would have kept her company. Charlotte threw her hands into her pockets, ignoring the strange stares she got from the couples; she stood out like a sore thumb with her clothing. Oh well, she couldn't care less. Turning her gaze, she looked over and over at each store, deciding whether or not it would be worth going in or not, mostly being not, until one in particular had a very elegant looking dress displayed. It was beautiful; with a gorgeous red cover over the chest area until hitting the hip, then replacing it with black to knee-length. It didn't have any sleeves but that was okay; it's not like they were an important essence. So she entered, looking particularly for that one cocktail gown. Finally, she found it. She could feel that the fabric would clutch to her curves and the low-cut would show her cleavage, but she wanted to try it anyway and was pretty certain that Francis would have approved if it done as such.
"Let's give it a shot..." She whispered, picking it up, ready to head for the changing booth.
"Charlotte?" A foreign accent loudly broke into her ears. Aussie turned around swiftly, clutching the graceful frock tightly to her chest. Before her was another familiar person; with shiny dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes shaded carefully behind a pair of designer glasses.
"Oh, g'day Alfred! What brings you here?" Aussie wanted company, but perhaps America wasn't a good idea. He didn't know much about fashion, and the fact that she was getting ready for a date was...
"Actually, I was on my way to France's; I needed to speak with him." There was something strange about the way he spoke; he wasn't loud and obnoxious; he was calmer and less hyper. She didn't like this at all, "Then I saw you in here and thought I'd say hi!" However, his normal nature addressed her again as he spoke about seeing her again. It wasn't a secret; they had been close before and their time away from each other was quite obvious to others. He had his ordinary hero laugh and hit her on the back, scrunching his eyes into his happiest look.
"So, what'cha getting such a formal dress for? You hate wearing things like this unless it's been requested."
"Right on the dot." She smiled back, looking down at the dress, "It was requested by France since its mi last day 'ere, mate." Charlotte wasn't about to lie to Alfred; there was no point to.
"Oh? You on a date with France? Where is he then?" The handsome teen searched around casually, raising an eyebrow when he couldn't see him.
"Back at 'ome; he wants me to surprise him for a dinner tonight. So, I'm alone at the mo'." America travelled back to her, dropping his arm from her slender shoulders.
"Well, I haven't got to see France yet, so I'll stay with you!" His toothy grin was one that could break any lonely-feeling gall into their own wide beam.
"Ta'! But ya sure? I mean, after all the last time we went shopping was when-"
"Don't worry about that." America's smile faded down to a sincere smile, folding his eyebrows together. He didn't want to be reminded about that, so stopping her talking about it was the only way, "You can't decide things on your own anyway."
"True..." She sighed, matching her features to his. Suddenly, his broad arm pulled her along towards the changing room.
"Come on now; let's see what that dress looks like on you!"
He shoved her into the small closet-like cubicle and waited patiently outside. Her head and feet were visible behind the door, but the large door covered her body kindly from prying eyes as she took off everything but her panties. They were the last thing she wanted America to see, especially after the fact that they were chosen out by Francis. Quickly, she noticed just why her hip had hurt so much; dry blood was visible from the scratches of France's nails digging into her. She pulled the tightly fitted outfit over her smooth legs, up until it rested nicely over her uncovered breasts, supporting them once again with the padding, and zipped up the side. There weren't any mirrors inside the cubicle, so she stepped out and showed herself off in front of the hamburger-lover. There were no words he could describe the perfect combination of the amazingly hot woman in that danger-zone dress. Her BWH had the most attractive figure, one that was not either too little or too big, with her dazzling silky hair that bounced in waves over her bare shoulders and down her luscious back and to top it off, her lengthy model-like legs that stroke the poise of her natural beauty until they hid away under the hem of the dress. Her tanned skin gave away the most sensational glow that could have made even goddesses bow down through jealousy. It was a perfect fit, and America couldn't stop himself from being speechless for the first time in a very long time.
"Well, is it okay?" She asked nervously. There was a mirror a little further down the store, so without a word from her shopping partner, she headed over to check herself out. She was followed by Alfred, getting some approving glances by other men following her brilliant body. Finally, she could see for herself just how gorgeous her look was. Charlotte gasped at herself; she looked amazing! Never had she placed on a dress like this; with some make-up and a pair of silhouettes, she could pull it off perfectly. She turned around, staring at her behind in hope that it didn't look too off-putting and big, but to her pleasure, she looked great from the back too! She giggled and smirked with a cute blush, taking the price tag that hung at the side into her hand.
Her jaw hit the floor. Th-Th-That much? The white of her eyes could be seen, but the paling of her face began to camouflage it all together into an un-readable expression. America snapped out of his flabbergasts and stepped up to her.
"Yo, Charlotte dude, what's up?" He removed the tag from her, not letting her move a millimetre as he checked himself. As soon as he read it, his own face symmetrised, paling unbelievably.
"Maybe another dress... This one doesn't suit me anyway..." Charlotte finally formed some words, drooping her body as if there were no bones left in her arms. It was way too much, no matter how much she loved it. America walked alongside her, checking out other outfits that she could possibly wear; ones that didn't cost the same amount as his entire country. Who could afford something like that on a one time outfit?
She changed back into her comfortable casual wear and headed out of the shop; it was a very expensive shop as America had realised. She felt so down about it though; that dress had everything she could have wanted for a proper wear but the bloody price just had to be completely implausible. Alfred could see this straightforwardly.
"Don't be upset, dude! There are plenty of other places, dresses and prices; maybe you'll find another one that'll be even better! We can shop for as long as you want to." He tried cheering her up, placing his right arm over her wilted shoulders. She just nodded but inside she knew there wasn't going to be another dress like that no matter how much she looked.
"What time you meeting frog-face anyway?"
"Eight. How am I gonna find something else in less than three hours?" Her eyes sparkled with disappointment, but she didn't really feel too bad about it; it wasn't like she needed something to impress him by in the first place. Although, a sexy dress may lead her into getting a very nice present for her last day...
"There's going to be something, just trust me okay?" America winked, brightening her mood slightly. She just nodded and placed her head lightly onto his own shoulder.
"Yeah, your right. Ta', Alfred." They set off, exiting and entering more and more shops and stores until finally she found exactly what she wanted to show off to the awaiting beauty at the petal covered table for two.
A few final adjustments were placed, letting the hard-working romance frantic let out a deep exhale at his accomplishment. He wanted it all perfect, stupendous, for his amazing lover. There was no trickery to this set up; although he wouldn't have minded if it led to the bedroom after their meal, it was just his way of thanking her and showing her some respect after his actions. With the food heating steadily, ready to be whipped up and sorted as soon as it was time, France decided it was time to get himself fashionable for their date. He wanted her to swoon over him as she had done the night before, but he didn't want her to lose control of her poise over his handsomeness. That was going to be difficult, but he had pulled off such a task before and could do it again. He walked from the set balcony and strided into the glamorous bedroom that her clothes were placed in. It was tempting to snoop inside and find out more about her hidden secrets, but he decided against it and instead just moved the packed suitcase to the side, allowing him to reach into his many drawers of designer clothes and expensive brand names.
Well, here goes... she thought nervously. Hopefully he would like the back-up dress she had to chose after the small disaster earlier. It wasn't as lovely or elegant as the one she had desired, but it was still above average and it would do for just this one night. Perhaps another time, when she had a little... a lot more money she could try and buy it again.
Through the ice glass window, she could see the flicker of a lit candle on a large white object; one she distinct as the table, along with a casually sitting figure on her right hand side, barely moving as he waited patiently for his date. Shakily, she pulled one of the large handles and revealed, not only the scene to herself, but her beauty to the smiling Frenchman. It was outstanding what he had put together just for her; the table was dressed with a polar white, stainless sheet and accessorised with the promised rose petals and a tall golden candlestick lit like a fallen star. The very slight breeze played around with it kindly, only caressing it delicately. Above them was a young full moon bringing a luminous light over the world as the stars added their own donation, giving life over the cloudless deep blue sky. It wasn't night yet, but the beauty of a just set sun already showed that it was going to be absolutely amazing.
Under everything, however, stood an astonishingly dressed gentleman in a turquoise blazer/trouser suit. With peaked lapels and long button sleeves on the rear-vented jacket, hiding away all but the front of a pale pink collar shirt, and straight leg trousers which very sexily brought out the best of his tall figure as he stood welcomingly holding one hand out to her as the other rested in a jetted pocket contentedly. On his feet were plain black formal shoes which looked as if they were worth more than the highly expensive-looking suit itself. She could almost have sworn that she felt her heart skip a beat just at looking at him.
But to him, she was just as tremendous. Although it seemed she had chosen something – a lot – cheaper than he had, he didn't mind; she was beautiful in all she wore. Her dress consisted of nothing but black and white, the colours colliding together in the centre vertically down, almost giving the impression of sharp waves. It covered a lot more skin than she was used to as it had long sleeves that travelled all the way to her tiny wrists, clutching her slim arms under its cotton embrace much like the décolletage done to her neck. The hem of the dress, like the other one, stopped just above her knees, but still hugged her tender thighs affectionately. On her feet were normal white flats with a lovely black iris sitting silently on the top, one that matched her flowered bracelet on her left wrist. Completing her model-worthy style was the simple black beret that the French were known for, letting the collapsed part of her hair escape in an explosion to frame her sublime features. Anyone would think she was a French model rather than an Australian surfer.
"You look remarquable!" He breathed, taking her hand. As a gentleman for the night, he took out her cushioned exquisite chair and sitting her kindly at the table.
"Merci." She thanked, her French just slightly drained with her Australian accent. He smirked sweetly at her attempt and sat back down opposite her and pouring out some vintage wine in two crystal glasses. Before they enjoyed the sparkling essence of the tasty liquid, they had a silent toast for each other, hitting them lightly together in sync.
"It's a beautiful night." Charlotte remarked, not taking her eyes off the handsome man before her.
"Oui, one zat I 'ope will last forever just so I can forever see how beautiful you look tonight." Francis complimented. As used to she was being complimented by France, she still let out a bashful smile as a faint blush rose to her cheeks. She hoped for the same, just so she could see France so relaxed and fetching like this for eternity. At least this picture will remain embedded in her memory for longer than the eternal flame.
They chatted about useless things, throwing compliments to each other and blushing smiles with laughter under the darkening sky. She didn't want to leave the next morning, so decided that the thought of her departure wasn't going to plague her just for this night of pure tranquillity.
After a few minutes, France excused himself and headed to the kitchen to begin with his first carefully chosen course. He wanted to give her the finest of French cuisine for her last night; he hadn't cooked a three course meal for her before so he was determined to impress her. For each of his meals he added just that bit extra to make the flavour as succulent as possible; he was an expert when it came to taste, whether it was food, clothes or lovers, he knew exactly what to do to give it that little bit superfluous.
"Voilà!" He re-entered, bringing out two plates of exotic smelling dishes that made the mouth of Charlotte water in anticipation. He placed hers down before her, showing a plush pastry bolster of stylishness, "Apéritif Fromage Brie. Bon apatite." He settled his own plate and himself before tucking in. Aussie picked up her neatly placed cutlery and dived into her food with elegance. With only the first bite of the brie was she captivated by the taste! The cheese and pastry mix exploded with passion and emotion just like France did making love and again, she was addicted immediately. She didn't need to speak, nor did she want to at this point in time; he knew she was relishing it just by the look of approval on her marvellous appearance.
It wasn't long before the both finished their starter in satisfaction and unwound back into their seats.
"Fantastic. Absolutely sensational..." She grinned in contentment. Even though her stomach agreed, she was left wanting more, so much that she'd burst, since there didn't seem enough. This was part of France's plan; this way she'd have her appetite and addiction to his food for the main course in a few moments.
"So, 'ow 'ave you enjoyed my 'omeland after so long away?"
"I really 'ave loved being back. Everything's just like I remember. I promise I won't be gone so long next time; or at least we'll see each other more often now all the wars have settled."
"Oui, I cannot wait. We'll practically be joined by zee hip, no?"
"Theoretically, yes, practically, no."
"Well, we 'ave been 'ave we not?" He joked with a hinting smirk. She couldn't stop herself from laughing at him; she should know better than thinking France could go one night without some sort of flirt or sexual message.
"Yeah, guess we 'ave." She smiled. They both took a sip of their sweetening alcohol and continued conversing until once again, the Frenchman excused himself in order to bring out the next course: Bouillabaisse. Again, he set it out with grace and begun enjoying its succulent taste, getting more and more attached to its amazing texture with each bite that entered her watering oesophagus. This time, she was left having just enough for a satisfying meal, letting her stomach settle gladly as the food was devoured between them both. There was nothing she could have thought of that would have been any better to do than have the gorgeous food made by those French talented fingers; what other power did they bestow? He cooks, cleans, great fashion sense, a-fricken-mazing lover... What else could he possibly do to sweep her off her feet anymore?
"Jarlotte," He suddenly stood up from his seat and held out a strange device between his fingertips. With a push of a diminutive button on the device, Aussie heard the familiar picturesque French classical music play through speakers leading into the balcony. Francis held out his hand to her sitting frame with a delicate smile, "Will you 'onour me wiz a dance?" This was the icing on the cake; he danced too. Whether he was good or not she was about to find out. She didn't answer with words, but accepted his proposal instantly by placing her subtle hand onto his and letting him pull her up.
France put his hand comfortably onto her waist as the other never let go of her silken hand while she gently placed hers atop of his shoulder, gaining a tiny tingle as his locks faintly brushed along her fingers while the breeze joined in. This was so romantic; he glided swiftly in time with the music, leading their movements on the balcony with simplicity and dignity. Yes, he was defiantly an amazing dancer.
Never had Charlotte been romanced, or had she really cared, but the fact that he had as if they were two doves in a wide, peaceful world made her wonder if he really did just see her as just a friend. Of course, that's all she saw him as; as she thought earlier, she had never felt what it was like to be in love, but she doubt that it was any different to how she felt right now. France didn't open his eyes as they swayed, but kept a neutral unperturbed smile. Australia decided that she would have felt much more comfortable to place her head on his broad chest, a motion which let France rest his own stubble chin on top of her beret and widen his smile additionally.
He did love her, but she never realised it, even as she heard his heart flutter in a fast beat as it tried so hard to reach out to her. Their hands removed from each others, and instead were placed onto their backs in an affectionate breathtaking embrace. Something was defiantly different in her body as he held her; she felt her heart speed up in a way that made her bittersweet and sickly. Her head began to feel light and dizzy from the swaying, forcing her to lift her head from her cosy enfold.
"Francis, I think I need to sit down..." He opened his eyes and stared at her for a few seconds. She was pale, very pale, with half closed eyes but a wondrous smile on her plump lips.
"Are you feeling okay?" He pulled her closer in and stopped the movement. Taking her into his arms, he placed her back down into her chair and kneeled down before her as he checked her over concerned. She nodded, getting colder now that his arms had broken away, "Perhaps you need sugar; I'll get our dessert." The lofty romantic stood onto his feet and left for the last time in order to complete their luxury evening together. When he returned, in his hand were two tiny ramekins, both filled up with a beautifully risen chocolate soufflé.
"Well, this will defiantly be a sugar intake..." Charlotte joked as he placed the perfect brown mixture before her.
"I 'ope it'll make you feel better; I don't want you ill on our last night togezer."
"I hope so too." She dug deep into the delicious pudding, spilling out the creamy sweetness of melted chocolate from inside. The same sweetness burst out into song and danced on her savouring tongue, smoothly letting the chocolate river to flow down her throat welcomingly. He was such a fabulous cook! Again, judging by the face she pulled just by eating, he could guess that his chance of impressing her did not go to waste.
"'Ave you enjoyed tonight?" The Frenchman asked, slightly nervous that something had gone completely wrong.
"So much that I don't wan' it ta end!" She admitted full-heartedly. Everything was perfect; why didn't they do this more often?
"I'm really thankful that ya treated me like this, France."
"I would do it a zousand times more if you wanted me to." He smoothly commented. There was no way he'd lie about it either; she deserved nothing but the best.
"Well, I'd prefer it ta just be tonight, then I 'ave such a wonderful unique memory ta make me smile when I miss ya." She replied, giving off the most mesmerizing sparkle in her features as she leaned in closer to him. She held her head on her hand, letting the candlelight reflect in a waltz through her eyes. France couldn't hold himself back; the only thing that could have made this night even better... He leant in close, pressing his pursed lips tenderly on her own. She let him without giving it any thought. They didn't battle with their tongues, but kept their lips closed in a long, gentle kiss. He reached for the hand she leant on and took it away, entwining his warm fingers between her own. It wasn't for a very long time until they parted again, but when they did, they barely moved from each other, but smiled kindly and gazed into the eyes of their partner, telling their own emotions without any words.
They rejoined, this time allowing the full extent of their pleasure massage each other as their tongues locked in a syncretised melody. Something seemed different as she kissed France, something that made her stomach hurt. She didn't like how sickly she felt so, to both of their dismay; she unlocked their muscles and leaned back into her chair.
"It's getting late, maybe we should head for bed soon." She smiled, letting her tiring eyes drop a little to prove her point. France didn't say anything but he nodded hesitantly, indicating them to stand and head to France's bedroom.
Their bodies moved in rhythm, slowly enjoying a steady pace unlike the usual fast pace Charlotte had been used to. She wrapped her legs around his sweating back as he impaled her over and over in such a way which made her get butterflies rather than screaming. Their voices only rose as their breathing deepened, but their senses stayed intact.
She could feel his member edge along her most arousing area inside her pathway in a beat that matched her heart. Even this ever steady pace had her crave for even more. His head buried deeply into her neck, kissing it sloppily as he inhaled the intoxicated smell of the sea she possessed so astonishingly. Her hands pressed against his back, trying to pull him even deeper into her body. He was so tender to her, yet every other person who she slept with was so cruel and possessive... except... no, she couldn't think of him; she'd only get upset. Right now, France was all who needed to be in her mind. Thankfully, he lifted his head, framing her face with his golden waves as he lovingly placed his forehead onto hers.
"Jarlotte, I-I'm cumming." He warned her, shutting his eyes in pleasure as his pumping sped up only slightly. As his orgasm reached, he pushed himself in as far as he could, stopping the movement he had grasped caringly during their love making. It passed only in seconds, but he left himself comfortably in the encirclement of her dripping walls and dropping into her arms, catching his breath again.
"Jarlotte..." He whispered affectionately, "Why must you go?" Charlotte pulled him close him her figure and unwrapped her slim legs from his hip.
"I don't want to either, Francis." She replied, her voice aching with sadness, "But I have no choice; now that everything's settled between us, I need to care for my country again."
"When will I see you again?" He pushed his head up and kissed her devotedly.
"I don't know... There's so much I need to do, but I promise, we'll see each other again soon." It was always emotional when they had to say goodbye, but this time it seemed to be more affectionate and almost tearful. After all, they would be miles away, on the other side of the world to each other.
"Just don't forget zat promise... don't forget me."
"That's an odd request. 'Ave I ever forgotten ya before?" She couldn't help but giggle slightly at his remark, but he didn't join her. Instead, he stopped her by planting more touches along her lips and jaw, restarting his pace into her again. The love he had for her couldn't be expressed in any other way than what he was doing, but there was something deep inside of himself that told him that perhaps it was a one sided affair, after all, his talk with America earlier had shown about her reputation. It wasn't something he wanted to think about, however; right now, Australia is all who needed to be in his mind, soul and heart. Maybe one day he could ask her about what America said, but now wasn't the right time. Right now, he just wanted to show his love for her.
Chapter two done and dusted. Longer than chapter one, but I doubt the chapters will get much longer than this... Anyway! I hope you enjoyed so please let me know~ :3
GoldenNekoLover14: *7* Thank you so much! I'm glad you like it~!
-xlilslayerx-
