Tonight was New Years Eve, and Alfred had decided to throw a party. You had an idea. Skittle vodka. Russia sure as hell enjoyed that one. You aren't much of a drinker, but you gave it a shot.
Then it was two shots. Then three. You were completely smashed, and you drug Alfred to the master bedroom. it didn't take much to arouse you at this point. A simple flash of Alfred's abs would work perfectly fine.
He pinned you down on the the bed, kissing you lustfully. You could taste the alcohol on his lips, as well as the vague taste of the skittles. You remembered the dreams where the two of you claimed intimacy. You actually wanted this, so it wasn't like he was forcing you into this. He tore your clothes off, as well as his. It was finally happening. You didn't care how much it would hurt. You wanted him to fuck you until your walls were raw.
He didn't care about the rubber, nor did you. You wanted him to fill you. Give you hickeys wherever he could, labelling you his. You wanted him to bite you, pull your hair, kiss you, fuck you, and not stop until you begged.
He rammed his long, hardened member into you, tearing your virgin walls. You winced sharply, digging your nails into his muscular back. He showed no mercy, slamming into you, making you savor every movement. Every noise he made. Every look he had in his eyes. The look of lust covered up the look of being intoxicated perfectly. The two of you didn't care who heard you. To you, it was just you and him. No one else.
Quickly, you came around his member, but he didn't stop. He slammed into your sweet spot, making you scream in pure pleasure. He came as well, and the feeling of his warm seed inside you sent you over the edge. After 3 hours of this, you begged to stop. The fact you two lasted that long amazed you. Drunkily, you looked down at the hisckeys on your arms, breasts, and stomach.
You were his. And no one else's.
