When Russia left the kitchen and he couldn't hear his footsteps anymore, Alfred started to eat absentmindedly. He wanted to know just why Russia was acting so strange, but he had no idea how to do it. If he just bluntly asked him, he would most likely ignore him, or tell him a lie. Could it be because he was getting bored of Alfred? Ivan hadn't seemed to feel comfortable torturing him after he finally admitted his feelings so long ago, and because of it he had been staying as far away from the American as he could.
Finally finished with the meal, America got up slowly and took his dishes to the sink and started to wash them. Was it becoming more difficult to take care of the world now that most of it was under his control? It seemed that he was staying in his room more often unless he was preparing food. Alfred could imagine all the work that would arise from taking care of everyone because he used to help everyone in a more friendly way. Taking over them all would probably created more paperwork and phone calls for him to make.
America still felt terrible about what had happened because he had left, but he couldn't help but hold a little flicker of hope inside him that Russia had chosen him to stay safe with him from the ruining of the world. Sure he had to get him to come with forceful measures in the beginning, but now he could understand just why he had done it. The only common thing with it though was the fact that he had been ignoring him. Had he grown tired of him being broken? Was it no longer fun for him to have the American around?
With his dishes cleaned, dried and put away, he then made his way up the stairs to his room. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't stop thinking about how much of an enigma the Russian was. He had taken Alfred away from his country after destroying it and his relationships with other countries like Canada and England, but in the same move it helped protect him from the utter destruction of the rest of the world. If he was still with everyone else, he and his country would have already perished.
It was difficult for Alfred not to knock on Russia's door when he went by it, but he knew that it wouldn't do anything. If he did, it would probably only make him more upset then he seemed to be at the moment with him. The only thing that he could do was what for tomorrow to ask him again. Just because he wasn't going to bother him today didn't mean he was going to give up getting a good reason for being ignored.
Instead, he just continued to his room. All America could do was wait for Ivan to stop being so distant. Before that happened, he would have to submit himself to being bored, alone and unsatisfied. Being ignored not only made him feel upset and worthless, but it had also meant that he and Russia hadn't done anything since, well, before he had to kill Eduard. Because of that, even the smallest amount of attention he got from the large blond made his mind wander and his body react.
Even with being hyper sensitive around Ivan, Alfred still knew where his place was. If he was to demand something from him, who knew just what might happen. At this point in their relationship he would hope it wouldn't be too severe, but what if he decided to take it too far? He sighed at the thought, lying down with his hands behind his head. Just thinking about him made the American's body feel hot. Well, he thought slowly, bringing his hands down to his jeans decisively, it wasn't as if Russia was going to see him if he was to take care of his own problem. After all, he had been avoiding him; what would make him suddenly change his mind now?
Slow and precise, America undid the zipper on his jeans; feeling his slightly hard cock under the layers of fabric. Thinking about what he was going to do ashamed him, but somehow also managed to further turn him on. Taking the bulge in his hand, he squeezed tightly; making himself hiss and moan lightly from the pressure. Without a second thought, he then pulled both his pants and underwear down to his ankles.
Cursing his eagerness, he then took his length in his hand, running it up and down lightly with his fingertips. After all, Ivan wouldn't hurry to pleasure America: for him, the fun was making Alfred snap under the urge of wanting to cum and be fucked. If he was to do it fast like he normally would, then it would never do. He continued at his leisurely pace, gradually increasing the speed but never pressing harder no matter how much he body wanted him to.
Once his cock was an angry red colour and rock-hard, Alfred went to work on taking off the small metal ball on his wand. After taking it off, he hesitated a bit before deciding to take the whole thing out. Sure he had to clean it every day, but that was only for a minute at a time. Having it out for longer felt as if he was missing an essential part of his body. Who would have thought that he would feel that way about it now when he was so against it in the beginning?
Putting it to the side, Alfred used the pads of his fingers to smear the precum that had oozed out around the head and shaft of his length. Groaning at the touch, he had started to unconsciously thrust into his loose embrace, egging himself to go faster, harder. No -his mind reprimanded itself again- that would be too quick, and thus not as satisfying. The longer he was able to draw it out, the more explosive he knew his orgasm would be. Since being with Ivan, he knew just how easily those large hands brought him to the edge; not quite going over, but close enough so that his entire body would shake with the effort of keeping it back.
Even if America himself could predict his own movements, he pictures not his hands, but Russia's doing all of this to him. Because of it, he could allow himself to imagine that he didn't know that 'Ivan' was going to pull sadistically on his pebbled nipple, eliciting a moan from Alfred's self-massacred lips. As one hand explored the various erogenous zones over his body, the other continued its ministrations on the American's cock, coaxing more precum to bead on the tip.
Suddenly, he squeezed his erection hard; making it twitch and Alfred moan quietly, throwing his head back into the pillow. Slowly, Alfred then brought his other hand up to his mouth, taking the fingers in greedily. Coating three of them liberally in saliva, he then flipped over onto his knees and his other elbow and placed his slick digits at his entrance. Without hesitation, the now sweating nation pressed into his entrance, basking in the slight pain it brought. His fingers weren't as long or thick as Russia's were, but they would have to do.
Alfred curled his finger, searching inside of him for the one spot that would send shivers down his spine. At the same time, his other arm that was keeping him up turned so that he could continue stroking himself. He valiantly continued to try and find it, but to no avail. Instead, the American just slipped a second finger past the ring of muscle; twisting both of them to search for his sweet-spot. How was it that Ivan always found it so quickly? It was his own body, but the larger man knew it better.
A jerky exhale was heard through the room as he finally managed to lightly graze his prostate. Almost ignoring his dripping cock, America doubled his efforts to savagely thrust his fingers against it. Curling his two digits that were inside him, he then added a third; stretching himself even wider with a low moan. Now, he continued to reach for that spot, only being able to lightly brush it to his demise.
Just as America was about to start jerking himself off again, his mind stopped. He still had the dildo, didn't he? And he could specifically remember Russia saying that it was very similar to himself... Would that help send him over the edge? Taking his fingers out with a small groan, Alfred bent over the side of his bed to see if the toy was in fact still there. Hidden in the shadows of his bed, the incriminating object sat there, looking as nonchalant as an inanimate object could.
Squinting his eyes so that he could see better, he reached under and grabbed it; shuddering a bit as he imagined it inside him. It was -as Ivan had mentioned- very close to the Russian's measurements, except that it was made of a type of pure black rubber with small bumps and ridges adorning it. Looking it over, Alfred noticed that on the base there was a little switch. Curious, he flicked it, filling both the room and his hands with the steady buzz. He turned it off quickly, his heart pounding and cock twitching at just what was going to happen.
Looking at the toy for a bit longer, America then brought it to his mouth, running his tongue over its smooth, slightly dusty surface. It tasted like new plastic which made him crinkle his nose slightly in disgust, but he kept at it. Once covered liberally in his saliva, Alfred then went back on his knees. His forehead keeping him up, the frail nation sucked on his fingers again and brought them back to his ass, slipping the first two in without hesitation. It was still mostly stretched from the first time, so it was only a matter of seconds before the third joined in, scissoring himself wide enough for the toy.
Alfred grabbed it off the bed, gave it one last lick to make sure it wasn't dried off and placed it at his entrance. Holding his breath, he then slowly pushed the dildo in, moaning as he did so. The hand that he used to stretch himself was now pushing the toy in further, while the other went to his neglected, twitching cock. Even at the light pressure, he couldn't help but let out another, smaller moan.
Once it was completely inside him except for where he was holding it, Alfred pulled it almost completely out and slammed it back into his wanton body. His entire body reacting, he kept up the pace, thrusting the toy mercilessly into himself and rocking his cock against his hand. It took most of his willpower not to just jerk himself off rapidly. America barely lasted a minute: with the repetitive stabs to his prostate and his member being stroked, he all but screamed as he orgasmed, muffled by the pillow.
Shaking lightly, he took the toy out slowly, ignoring the lewd sounds it made as it did so. America's body was covered with sweat and both his hand and his sheets had gotten cum on them from his climax. Getting up, he then took the sheets off his bed to wash them later, all while holding the dildo in his other hand. Taking all of the things to the bathroom including his wand, Alfred deposited the black toy in the sink; washing it off with soap and warm water.
Leaving the laundry on the floor, America started up the shower. Stepping into the stream of warm water, he somewhat lamented the fact that he was so preoccupied with getting to his orgasm that he had forgotten the fact that it vibrated. Just from that thought alone, his entire body flushed; ashamed once more with what he just did. Russia had given him the object with that it mind, considering it usage, but to have actually used it and imagined it being Ivan made it worse. Alfred would just have to make sure that he didn't find out.
And let's all give a round of applause for schoolgirl-cheesesculpture, because this chapter was written exclusively by her!
