January 14, 2012

I got this idea from reading the "Imagine Your OTP" tumblr.

"Imagine person B of your OTP (the non-dominant one) has no sexual experience what so ever other than books and tips from others while Person A has plenty of experience. Now imagine them together for the first time, Person B hesitantly or quickly grabbing A's shoulders while A gently smiles and helps guide B through it."

Warning: PURE SMUT. (And grammar errors).

Don't Worry

He can't believe it. This goes against everything he has ever been taught, everything his parents and his small-town community has engrained into his overwhelmed mind. Sex—even thinking the word sends him into a guilt-trip—is a sin. He can just imagine his mother's eyes, his mother's voice as he bites his lips and throws his head back, shuddering from the hands trailing down his sides. His mother—oh God—his mother would say, Alfie, honey, aren't you ashamed? Sex—she hushes her voice at that despised, sinful word, the one thing that traps and entices and ruins—sex is—

"Feeling good?"

The thought is shattered and burnt away as Alfred clenches fistfuls of the cotton-linen bed sheets and shivers, when that beautiful accent breathes against his sensitive neck and licks. He could only whimper in response, ashamed and embarrassed and flustered and feeling oh-so-good. "Ar—Arthur…"

He receives no verbal reply, only a continuation of the trail of kisses on his body and the hot fingers on his skin. Alfred thinks his mind is going to shut down any minute; this is already too much. How could he last through what Arthur has planned for him? Oh God, if he is going absolutely crazy with Arthur's hands on him, what happens when he—

"Don't worry, love, relax," he hears beside his ear. "Relax, it'll be all right…" Alfred realizes he had tensed, and Arthur's rubbing circles on his hipbone with his thumb as he murmurs beautiful words into Alfred's ear. It doesn't even matter what he says…as long as he keeps talking in that mesmerizing voice of his. Alfred feels himself relax, and he cannot bring himself to open his eyes…this is too embarrassing...

So he grapples for Arthur, wrapping his arm around those shoulders, and holds on for dear life. He hears a chuckle, but was he imagining it? No, he decides, Arthur did chuckle and Alfred frowns but refuses to let go.

The creases on his forehead smoothes away when Arthur pecks his lips and Alfred's eyes slip open in shock for a millisecond before the sight of Arthur's face—so close, so warm, so beautiful—forces them shut again. He wants another kiss, a longer kiss, but he is too embarrassed to say. Please…

"Alfred."

His name in that person's voice is just too much. He tenses when he feels Arthur lean down, those lips on his skin as they murmur, "Won't you look at me?"

Alfred hears himself whimper and whine at the conflicting emotions welling inside him—yes, of course I'll look at you. I'll look at you all day if I could…no, I can't. If I look at you I don't know what'll happen to me. I don't know what I'll do.

In the end, he keeps his eyes shut and his mouth closed, the only noise coming from deep in his throat. Warm fingers caress his cheek and push his head from lying to the side and Arthur kisses him.

Arthur kisses him fiercely, at first only planting his lips on Alfred's, then he licks and nips and thrusts his tongue in when Alfred gasps for air. His eyes fly open, and he digs his feet into the bed at the tingling feeling in his abdomen. Is he supposed to feel like this? Alfred feels dirty and ugly and shameful. Arthur tells him it's okay, he's supposed to enjoy this, but Alfred can't get it out of his mind that he is a sinner.

Alfred lets his jaws drop wider as Arthur's tongue controls him, tastes him, devours him. He pants into Arthur's mouth, and he could feel him smirk as Arthur lifts his eyelids to stare back at him.

Alfred panics and breaks the kiss, snapping his head to the side and gasps for air, his chest heaving unsteadily. His heart is beating too fast; his stomach is churning and coiling and he has never felt like this before.

Arthur doesn't touch him; no, he doesn't touch Alfred where he needs it the most, only teases and tastes. And Alfred is too embarrassed to ask him to please, please, don't torture me like this.

"Do you want this?"

Alfred shuffles his feet against the bed and bites the bottom of his lips, staring pitifully into Arthur's eyes. "Arthur…" he whines, "please…"

And all Arthur does is chuckle at him, until he straddles his hips and Alfred swears he rubs their groins together on purpose and Alfred moans and arches his back.

Alfred has never felt like this before, never done this before. He is scared, not because it's his first time, but because Arthur has so much more experience and what if Alfred is just not good enough?

"You're amazing," Arthur says against Alfred's skin, his lips trailing down to Alfred's hips.

Alfred shivers and flinches to pull away when Arthur's lips touch the inside of his thigh, but Arthur's hand is firm on his leg and all Alfred can do is clench his toes and hold his breath, especially when Arthur breathes and licks and leaves small, little kisses everywhere.

"It's okay," Arthur continues to murmur, "it's okay. You're doing perfect, love."

But Alfred doesn't believe him. No, not when all he knows is from occasional glimpses into books and overhearing Francis describe his escapades.

"Perfect," Arthur repeats, and this time his mouth is so much closer to Alfred's crotch, and he feels himself twitch.

He senses that Arthur's lips spread into a smile, and he is unprepared for the flick of tongue along the side of his member. He lets out loud moan and feels his face burn red. He wants more, oh, does he want more. And Arthur knows it.

"Alfred, love, this is going to feel really nice, okay?"

Alfred misses the warm of Arthur's body close above him, and he opens his eyes to make eye contact and nods, immediately deciding that he doesn't care how embarrassing this is, if Arthur gives him that look every time.

He groans and barely stops himself from bucking his hips when Arthur swallows him whole—how does he do that?—and his legs and hands dig into the bed. Arthur runs his tongue all around and blows his breath on his overly-sensitized crotch. Alfred doesn't register that his hands has shot into Arthur's hair and he holds tight, unknowing that he is pushing Arthur down on him, but Arthur lets him.

Alfred loses his thoughts and his mind, and all he knows is how wonderful it feels and how warm Arthur's mouth is and just how much he wants Arthur.

He drips into Arthur's mouth and almost loses it when Arthur lifts his head and pants, bringing Alfred back to reality. Oh God, what has he done, he was about to—to come—inside…oh God—

"It's okay, Al," Arthur soothes as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and if that isn't sexy then Alfred doesn't know what is—"Did you like that?"

Alfred looks at Arthur desperately, and he loves him even more when Arthur smiles gently at him. Alfred relaxes and his cock almost loses some of its painful hardness, until Arthur tells him, "Come inside my mouth."

Alfred stares at him incredulously, not knowing how to react. His mouth drops open and he stutters, "B—but—"

And that is all he manages before Arthur swallows him whole again and coaxes his cock to release. Alfred fights it for a few seconds, his body and his mind in a dilemma because this is too indecent but he wants it so damn much.

Arthur makes the decision for him when he tugs on Alfred's balls and massages them and Alfred screams when he can't control himself anymore and comes into Arthur's mouth, which sucks and milks him for every last drop.

Alfred sinks into the bed and pants, his mind a haze and his body too tired to move, but Arthur swallows against his cock and Alfred doesn't know if he is going to stay alive with all this stimuli. He feels Arthur sit up, and he opens his eyes to see the sandy blonde lick Alfred's cum off his lips and wipes it onto the back of his hand. Alfred couldn't stop his eyes from rolling halfway to the back of his head, which fell against the bed.

"Was that too much for you?" Arthur teases, which turns into a curse below his breath when he accidentally brushes his still-hard cock against Alfred's thigh.

That clears Alfred's mind a little, and he forces himself to sit up and hold Arthur's waist. "Oh my God," he mumbles, "I'm so sorry…" But he still can't bring himself to look at Arthur's assets.

"It's okay; I'll—I'll go finish this quickly."

Alfred looks at Arthur, who actually diverts his eyes, and Alfred is almost certain he heard embarrassment in Arthur's voice. When he moves to get up, though, Alfred holds him firm.

"Alfred?"

"If…if…You could—you wanted to do something else, didn't you?" Alfred looked to a random corner of the bed, his face flushed and hesitant. He berates himself for stuttering, especially when Arthur is probably absolutely hurting from that hardness.

"I—no, it's too fast. I'll—don't worry, I'll go finish this." Arthur places a hand on Alfred's and tries to push it off, but Alfred holds tight.

"No. That's not fair. Let's—it's fine." Alfred feels the heat spread into his neck, too.

Arthur only stares at him, desire and reason evidently a great internal conflict at the moment.

Alfred peeks up at him hesitantly. At Arthur's blank stare, he shouts in frustration and embarrassment, "Jesus, Arthur! Do I literally need to tell you that it's alright to fuck me?"

And Alfred almost immediately regrets his outburst.

Raw desire flashes across Arthur's eyes before Alfred's lips are bruised and harshly kissed, and he is pushed down onto the bed. Arthur blindly reaches for the lube inside the bag of items they had bought earlier, set on the bedside table.

Alfred blushes fiercely when Arthur starts grinding against his thigh, and he doesn't know how red his face can get when the sandy blonde moans into his mouth.

Their kiss breaks and Arthur is panting, kissing all over Alfred's jaws and neck and collarbones, murmuring 'I love you's all the while. His hands are prying open the lube, and he squirts a generous amount onto his hands and rubs, warming it with his fingers before he even thinks of spreading it inside of Alfred.

"Are you sure?" Arthur asks, and it was his turn to be hesitant.

Alfred turns his face, already a cherry red, and mumbles, "Yes, stop asking already!"

Arthur smiles, a wonderful, genuine smile, and whispers another I love you. Despite saying yes already, Alfred tenses when Arthur rubs a finger against his asshole.

"Relax, love," Arthur repeats, sliding his finger along Alfred's crack until he accustoms himself with the idea. "It'll feel good, I promise."

And Alfred believes him. But it was still, the idea was still so…this was so improper. So indecent.

"I'm putting a finger in," Arthur says, and his finger is right against Alfred's hole until he nods, and Arthur pushes it in, not moving until Alfred relaxes again.

It hurts, and it feels weird. Alfred almost begs Arthur to pull it out, please, when Arthur begins to whisper soothingly into his ear. He keeps whispering as his finger moves, and Alfred doesn't know if he wants it out or if he wants to listen to Arthur. He promises Alfred that the pain will go away soon, that he'll get used to it, and Alfred only nods and wraps his legs around Arthur's waist.

"You're doing great, Alfred, just great." Arthur kisses his earlobe. "Good, you'll be fine."

Arthur pushes a second finger in and Alfred tenses, but he relaxes more quickly this time, and he still feels weird, but it doesn't hurt as much anymore and it's starting to feel good. Another pang of guilt and shame hits Alfred when he thinks that Arthur's fingers in his ass feels good even though it hurts.

"Arthur…" he whines, reaching a hand for him, which Arthur grasps with his free arm.

"Shh, it's okay," Arthur reassures him. "It's okay." He pushes in a third finger and Alfred has more or less gotten used to the sensation by now, and he could feel his hole clamping around Arthur's fingers, it was so tight.

And Arthur could feel his cock twitch at the thought of just how tight Alfred would be around him, and all he wants to do is break the boy and thrust into him right then and there. But he doesn't. No, he couldn't do that. He has to make sure Alfred is comfortable and relaxed and fine, and there is no way Arthur will force himself onto—and into—Alfred. Oh, but how much he wants to do just that. Arthur wants to push himself right into Alfred and fuck him into the bed and against the wall and on the floor and over the counter. He wants to force Alfred's asshole deep onto him and pound his cock inside over and over again until the boy screams his name and begs him to stop. He wants to tease him and play with his balls and fuck him with just his fingers until the boy comes breathless and drained. But he couldn't do that. Arthur controls himself and tells himself later, he'll be able to do all those things later. But right now, he needs to take things slowly.

"Alfred," Arthur whispers, and waits until the blonde looks up at him. It takes all the self-control Arthur has to continue his sentence and not stuff his hard, pained cock inside of Alfred when the boy looks up at him with such beautiful, innocent, flustered eyes. "Alfred," he repeats, "could you put the condom on me?"

Arthur expects the look of shock that crosses Alfred's eyes, and he doesn't say anything more as he lets Alfred take his time and finally nods, reaching for the packet and rips it open.

"I…I don't…"

"I'll tell you; don't worry." Arthur's fingers are still inside, but he doesn't move them as Alfred pulls the condom out and looks at Arthur's cock and into his eyes. "Good, now put that end over me and roll it down."

Alfred bites the bottom of his lip and does as instructed, and God, does he look absolutely adorable like that. Arthur mentally notes that if Alfred knows what he is thinking, he would punch Arthur in the face.

Once Arthur has the condom on him, he spreads his fingers inside of Alfred and stretches him a few more times for good measure, and slowly pulls them out. He pulls Alfred flush against him, smirking as he hears a soft squeak, and hands Alfred the bottle of lube. "Can you put some on me?"

Alfred stares at the bottle in his hand, as if not knowing what to do with it, and finally opens it and squirts a little too much on his hand. "I—I'm sorry—is this—"

"You're fine," Arthur says and pecks Alfred's lips to stop his chattering. "Just rub that over the rubber, as you Americans call it."

Alfred nods, and once his hands are over Arthur's cock, Arthur shivers and tenses, trying to keep himself in control. But God, does fucking Alfred over the counter sound enticing right now. Especially when he is still so prudish.

"Alfred, would you put your arms around me?" Arthur gently lays him down onto the bed and lets him wrap his legs around his waist, as well. "Good, now, don't worry, okay?"

Arthur feels his thighs shaking from holding it in for so long, but he takes it slow and guides himself along Alfred's ass crack. He shivers when the tip touches the blonde's hole, and he can feel his heart beating faster at the thought that he is finally doing this with Alfred.

He kisses him and guides himself in, cooing at Alfred when he hears him whimper. He whispers sweet nothings into his ear and forces himself to remain still when he is fully inside. "Are you okay?"

"Ye—yeah…" Alfred's hands tighten around him.

"I'm going to move now," Arthur says and he does, pulling his cock halfway out and pushes in again, feeling Alfred tense and arch his back. "Shh, relax."

He repeats that slowly for a few more times, until he hears a soft moan come from Alfred and he knows that he can move more quickly and begins with a thrust. A loud moan rips from deep down Alfred's throat and Arthur smiles onto Alfred's skin and does it again.

He continues thrusting inside Alfred, all the while thinking of how many more times he can do this to the boy before he might go unconscious and Arthur could feel himself almost come from the thought. He thrusts into Alfred again, and he thinks of how he could make the boy scream his name louder next time. He thrusts and pushes deeper, staying still and pulling Alfred closer to him, nipping the nape of his neck and snaps his hips, and Alfred screams, the feeling way too good even though he can't get hard at the moment.

Arthur thrusts two more times into Alfred and he comes, moving inside of him as he shoots into the condom around his cock. He can't help but think of where he will have the boy next, and just how he'll fuck him. Maybe he won't do his ass. Maybe he'll just fuck his thighs and finger his tight, tight asshole. He loves his prudish American, and he loves the way he responds. Arthur holds onto the base of the rubber and pulls out, gently setting Alfred back on the bed as he ties up the condom and chucks it into the bin.

He crawls next to Alfred and smiles as the blonde reaches out for him. Arthur kisses him gently, slowly, and licks his lips before pulling away. "Go to sleep, love," he says and Alfred obeys, hugging Arthur close and falling asleep before he can remember his embarrassment.

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Thanks for reading! Reviews would be lovely.