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America's New York City penthouse was sweltering after just a few hours without power. Even though he had opened all of the windows and the balcony doors, the slight breeze outside did little to stifle the oppressive heat in the building. America pulled a cherry popsicle from the fridge, opening and shutting the door quickly to keep the inside chilly. Sucking greedily on the deliciously cold popsicle, he joined England on the balcony.
Although America had happily stripped down to just his boxers, England was still wearing a shirt and trousers. He said it was improper to sit outside in the nuddy, although he had unbent enough to take off his shoes. Trying to spare himself some of the heat, England lounged in the shade and fanned himself with a few pieces of paper. His normally tousled hair lay flat in the high humidity and his warm cheeks might have been a result of the heat, or they may have been a sign of the cold six-pack he had split with America a couple hours earlier in the afternoon. Though the Englishman normally preferred his beer slightly warmer, he hadn't complained this time.
He turned to America and sighed. "We should have gone to London for August. It never gets this beastly."
"Sorry, beautiful. I can't help it that I'm so hot."
England snorted. "True, but your electrical grid is a mess."
America didn't have a good reply (his grid was kinda a mess), so he settled for licking the tip of the popsicle with his cherry-red tongue, enjoying the way England's eyes darted over and his breath hitched. America continued to hum in contentment as he bobbed the popsicle back and forth in his mouth.
"Mmm, so good," he said between swallows, licking his lips until they were also stained cherry red.
"You're indecent," England complained. But he looked (even more) hot and bothered after watching America's display, so America counted it as a success. The younger nation decided to up the ante by practically deep-throating the popsicle into his mouth, enjoying the way England's eyes fixated on him. The older nation involuntarily licked his lips and leaned forward. Although a few drinks didn't have much effect on England's speech or motor skills, they were always enough to obliterate his Victorian inhibitions and expose the horny sex-fiend inside.
America moaned happily as he continued to suck the popsicle. He closed his eyes and tilted back his head, arching back into his chair as he moaned loudly with every delicious slurp and lick. It really was a wonderful, cold, delicious, sugary treat. When he finished, he sucked his sticky fingers one by one and smiled at England. He could see from the bulge in England's pants that his lover had quite enjoyed his little performance.
"Do you want a popsicle, sweetie?" America asked innocently. "Might as well use 'em. They're probably going to melt before we get power back."
England nodded and followed America into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around America before the younger nation reached his fridge. "I'll make you melt," England purred huskily into America's ear. Despite the heat, America shivered and grinned.
"I thought you said that it was too hot for sex?" America reminded him while he rubbed his ass into England's crotch. "Did you change your mind, sweetheart?"
With a needy moan, England bent America over the kitchen table and yanked down America's boxers, letting them pool around his ankles.
"No foreplay?" America teased.
"You had your bloody foreplay with the ice lolly," England growled. America shivered again with anticipation. He always loved it when England got possessive.
From behind, America heard the freezer door open and close. A second later, he gasped in shock and delight as England pressed a popsicle between his thighs. America couldn't stop giggling as England thrust the cold popsicle back and forth. He wondered what flavor England had chosen. He hoped it was lime. (Both because it would be funny for a limey to use lime, and it was also America's least favorite flavor, so he didn't care about wasting it.) His giggles turned to gasps of pleasure as England reached around his waist and wrapped his hand on America's hardening cock.
England began pumping and thrusting harder. "You like that ice lolly, don't you, love?"
"It's called... ah!... a popsicle."
Despite the frozen popsicle thrusting between his legs, heat built up in America's body and fire filled his veins. He arched and moaned as England's nimble fingers pumped his cock. He gasped England's name and came into England's fingers. Seconds later he heard the popsicle fall to the floor and England's cock replaced it between America's thighs. The slick goo of the popsicle created the perfect level of friction.
England's hands squeezed America's waist as he pounded into America's thighs. His hot gasps and ragged moans filled the room. As the heat built up between them, America could feel England start to lose his tempo. The tasty cock pounding between his legs moved in time with England's rapid pants for air. Seconds later, he felt even more sticky gooeyness spread between his legs as England groaned and collapsed onto his back.
"Too hot," England mumbled into America's neck. With their naked bodies pressed together, it was far too warm in the overheated room. After a moment to catch his breath, America gently rolled to the side and stood up, leaving England sprawled on the table, his back pressed against the wood. After pulling up his briefs, America took a second to admire the view of his satiated lover. England lay across the table with his lithe legs dangling off the side and his trousers pulled down around his knees.
Even though England had done most of the ravishing, he looked absolutely debauched himself. His hair was a mess and sweaty bangs stuck to his forehead. America didn't know if England's glazed, droopy eyes and flushed cheeks were the result of his post-orgasmic haze, the heat, or his inebriation, but he did know that the look suited England. The handsome nation looked well-fucked and completely fuckable.
America grinned. "Hey, sweetie. Want another popsicle?"