Hello again! I'm happy to present to you chapter 3 of this story, which is starting to roll along quite nicely ^^ I'm already working on chapter four, which is going to be quite interesting, as well as defining for this fic. Consider this a bridge chapter, if you will. It had to be done so the story progresses a smoothly as possible. I apologize for the lack of excitement OTL

THERE IS A POLL ON MY PROFILE PAGE! GO AND VOTE FOR YOUR FAVORITE IDEAS! YOU HELP THE AUTHORESS AND THINGS MOVE FASTER XD

I also want to thank the four individuals who were so kind as to submit a review… or the two who submitted as guests. Who I would like to address at this time.

"Guest" – I can see where you are coming from, but in my defense I am kind of rusty at writing at the moment (other than for rping), so for Arthur and Francis to come off as sickos is not what I wanted, IRL or in this work. I am trying to define the levels of maturity, experience, and comfort that the older nations have with these matters as opposed to Alfred. I'll admit it's done in a crude fashion, but I will work on softening their approach. Although I won't guarantee it. Arthur is being an aggressive muse, and France is perving. I refuse to argue with them.

Harumi – First off, I'm glad you love it! And here's the update, although this chapter won't give you any insight into what you're looking for ^^;; In fact, I have a rough outline set up that I am following, so it will be several chapters down the road before any pairings begin to appear, either as one-timers or permanent relationships. But I am working as hard as I can to get to that point, so I hope your patience holds out while I work with the muses XD

Okay, now that responses are done, on with the story.

DISCLAIMER: SEE CHAPTER 2

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*Later that evening…*

After Matthew and Francis had arrived, Arthur had filled them in on the basics of what was going on. And even though Matthew had already been told most of it, he still wanted to hear it again.

He was still in denial

Francis, on the other hand, had acted as though Christmas had come early. It had taken both Arthur and Matthew to restrain the eager Frenchman. Upon hearing that America was a virgin, he had tried to relieve him of it right then and there.

He had been pacified only when Arthur assured him that he would get some action during the weekend, if what he had in mind panned out. But NOT from Alfred.

Now the four of them were sitting in the kitchen, taking care of the pressing matter of eating seeing as all four of them hadn't had a bite all day. Alfred hadn't eaten due to his own planning to rid the country of the one known as Presley. The other three had been thinking of other things since breakfast, and had forgotten lunch. So, it was food first, plan second. But Alfred wasn't in a mood to eat, for once.

'God, why me? Can't these guys find another hobby besides my sex life? Or lack of one.'

Blue eyes studied the other three that were sitting at the kitchen table with him. For as long as he could remember, any family meetings that the four would have (if you considered them a family that is) always took place in the kitchen. It had been the communal hub for the various people that had lived in the house over the years. Most meals were eaten there. When he had been a child, it had been where Arthur would patch up his and Matthew's various scrapes and cuts from roughhousing. If there was a conflict among them, this is where they would head to find a solution. To Alfred, it was the most comfortable spot in the entire house… the one place he felt the most at home in.

Over the years, there had been many add-ons and renovations completed to keep the structure in date with the times, but the kitchen had always been in the same place. And it was the one room out of all of the ones that were in the house that was the least unchanged. It still had the same cabinets that had been painted, sanded down, and re-stained and varnished many times. The floor was the original oak tongue-and-groove that his guardian had demanded to be included in the design. The windows that flanked the back door, as well as the one over the sink, were the original plate glass. He had refused to change that glass out, opting to have a second window installed in front of them to protect the precious panes from outside damage. He had stuck to the original color scheme of light blues and rich, deep browns. The only notable changes to the room were, of course, the additions of modern appliances such as the gas stove that replaced the wood burning one nearly thirty years before.

But after this night, he didn't think he'd feel the same way about it ever again. What they were about to discuss; He, Arthur, Francis, and Matthew, was a subject he had absolutely no interest in, and was not comfortable with their decision to take away one of his most valued in-material possessions. Seriously, did it really matter if he had had sex yet or not? Was it THAT important? He had lived this long without it; he could continue doing so forever. At least that's how he saw it.

The other three didn't.

So here they were, about to plan out the taking of his innocence. Sitting and having their supper. Like there wasn't a care in the world. At that moment, he would give anything to be able to vanish into thin air.

He couldn't be that lucky.

Movement caught his attention, his gaze shifting to Arthur who was studying the hamburger like it was some strange creature from beyond.

"I just don't understand the appeal of this thing. I mean, it's not THAT bad, but still, there's much better than this to be had." Arthur took another hesitant bite, his features scrunched up like he was in pain.

Francis nodded in agreement. "Oui. I cannot see how this, of all the options for food out there, has become so popular. Ugh, hopefully it's just another silly American fad." He studied his own burger, opting for the fries instead, but still grimacing at the deep fried taste that invaded his taste buds.

"Well I think it tastes pretty good. A little strange, but still appealing."

The older European countries turned their gazes to Matthew, who was sitting there snacking on his own fries happily. Both of them shook their heads and rolled their eyes. But of course he would pick up some of Alfred's habits. They were practically twins.

Matthew just ignored them, used to the disapproval of his adoptive parents, and turned his attention to Alfred, who was picking at his meal with much less vigor. "What was the name of the restaurant this came from again?"

Alfred looked up after a moment, realizing he had been asked a question. "Huh? Oh, it's called McDonalds. It's rumored that they will eventually replace all the old car-hop drive-in restaurants. It's being franchised, like White Castle."

"Ah. It's something new every day, isn't it?" Finishing off his last fry, Matthew grabbed his glass and sipped at his lemonade. Americans and their stupid inventions and trends. It was enough to make him squirm in his seat. "I hate to say this, but I agree with Francis. This might be popular here in the U.S., but I don't see it ever branching out. It can't beat out a home cooked meal, or dinner in a nice restaurant." Francis gave the Canadian a reproachful look, while Arthur agreed as well, balling up his wrappers and going to throw the trash away.

"I can see where it would fit in as far as convenience goes, but not every country is living in such a fast-paced society as yours, poppet. I hope it dies down soon. I get the feeling this kind of meal isn't all that good for you." He came back to the table, offering to throw away the other's waste as well. Meanwhile, after handing over his mostly-uneaten food, Alfred continued his musings, a knot making itself known it the pit of his stomach. Any moment, and the conversation would turn to the reason for their gathering in his home.

"Well, to be honest, I really haven't had all that much time to do any real cooking recently, with the upcoming election and all. It's been either take-out, or throwing something in the Radarange (1). God knows I paid enough money for it, might as well use it."

Arthur cast the object in question a wary glance, the hulking appliance taking up what used to be the space for the china cabinet. He didn't trust it. It had to have negative effects on the food you cooked in it. "Are you SURE it's safe to use? I wouldn't cook in it, that's for sure."

"It's perfectly safe, don't worry! In fact, the only thing to worry about with it is the increase in the electric bill. Man, that thing really pulls on the juice!" His eyes met with three looks that said they were not impressed by the machine.

"How much did you pay for it again?" Francis had turned to look over it, the futuristic design catching his eye.

"Oh, something like thirteen hundred bucks, not counting delivery and installation."

Arthur choked on the sip of tea he had just taken. "Th-THIRTEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS?!"

"Well, yeah! You gotta shell out the dough if you want to keep up with the latest technology, right?"

"I wouldn't bloody well spend THAT much!" Arthur wiped up his spilt tea with a napkin, giving the younger nation a glare. "You could pay off half on a new car with that kind of money. But, you never did have much sense, did you?"

"Hey! I'm not stupid, you know." Alfred crossed his arms, his lips bowed downwards in a frown.

Matthew and Francis snorted and spoke as one. "You could have fooled me."

Growling at the jabs being taken at his careless ways, he jumped up from the table, roughly shoving his chair back. "To hell with you guys! I can buy whatever the fuck I want, when I want it! I'm going upstairs. I've had enough of this crap for one night."

As he turned to storm out of the room, Arthur jumped out of his seat and caught him by a finger hooking in his belt loop. "Hold it! We have plans to make, and you are going to help. We need to know what your tastes are, in terms of potential matches."

"Aw, come on! Do we HAVE to do this?"

This time it was all three of the others speaking together. "YES!"

"Ugh, fine, fine… dammit." He sat down again, reclining back on his chair leaving two legs off the floor.

Arthur sat back down as well, clearing his throat to catch all of their attention. "Now, let's get started."

Francis and Matthew scooted closer to the table, the younger resting his chin on his hand while the older one picked up his wine glass to sip at. Arthur fixed them all with a look that was left over from his days of pirating. He was a captain at that moment, addressing his crew. And he acted like it too.

"As we are all aware, Alfred is at a crucial point in his development. His citizens are showing signs of change, a progressive movement that he needs to be in time with. One of these changes happens to be the dismissal of prudish values in exchange for exploring the area of one's sexuality."

He paused, looking around the table with one eye shut, the other piercing through the others, before continuing.

"Alfred, for all his good intentions, has managed up to this point to avoid involving himself in such ideals. But now that the people of this country are ready to move on from aforementioned values, he needs to move on as well. And that, gentlemen, is what we're gathered here for."

He paused for dramatic effect, having their undivided attention on his speech.

"We have a mission to perform, one that must be handled with care and precision. It will take careful planning, and perfectly executed timing. We must be diligent! We must be persistent! We must approach this with all our attention, sharp and focused, so that we may succeed. This weekend, our main goal is to divest Alfred of his chastity, and see to it that by Monday, he is well versed in the act of sex, and all its deliciously sordid details, on a personal AND physical level! Now, who's with me?"

There were two cheers of "Yes!"

And one howl of "No!"

The protest was ignored.

"Excellent! Now, we must first decide on where we will start the hunt for a bed partner. Next, we will discuss proper dress code. After that, the information he needs to start off on the right leg must be compiled and presented. And finally… heh heh… finally, we will decide on where the action shall take place."

Arthur added a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows to that last part, Francis' trademark "hon hon hon" accompanying it.

Matthew just grinned.

Alfred beat his head on the table, sobbing.

And so, the planning began in earnest.

First was the destination. And as much as Arthur and the others loved Virginia, it just didn't have what they were looking for. They needed to find someplace where there was fun, entertainment, and a lot of free-flowing alcohol. After almost an hour of discussion and skimming through the various magazines Alfred had laying around the house, they finally settled on Miami, Florida.

Miami, at that time, was a veritable hot bed for parties and clubbing. But what really caught their attention was an advertisement in an issue of the Saturday Evening Post. It was for a sweet deal called The Tropicana Special, offered by Cubana Airlines. Basically it was a package deal where they picked you up in Miami and flew you to Cuba. From the airport you would be shuttled to the Tropicana Club, where you spent the night drinking, dancing, and enjoying the various venues of entertainers.

After the party was over, you were flown back to Miami and shuttled to your hotel before sunrise. It was exactly what Arthur had had in mind, and his cohorts agreed with his choice. And with Alfred's honey blonde hair and baby blue eyes, along with that well-toned physique he sported, it would be no problem for him to pick up someone to take back to the hotel with him. He was, to put it bluntly, a hot ticket. Of course, the other three had plans as well. But their main focus was America the sexy at the moment, not their own plans. They settled on an Oceanside resort to stay at, as well as making calls to the national directory to help select the places they would eat at and visit while there.

With destinations and locations decided, they moved on to the next item on the agenda, clothes. There was an easy solution for that, though. With another call to the directory, they were connected to a tux rental place only a few blocks from their hotel, and made an appointment to come in for fitting. During this part of the planning it was decided that they would each have their own private rooms, taking care of where Alfred would get his shag on. That left the trip down south left to arrange, and bestowing literally centuries of sexual knowledge and advice on the now deeply depressed country. And with final arrangements made, it was finally time to school the young man on the birds and bees.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOO

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