Badsex.doc

France was a trooper dammit. But even HE felt the need to give up this conquest…

France had gotten his ass handed to him a few times before. He had taken some rejections, but he always came out with more enthusiasm than ever and with enough spirit to keep trucking on! But this time…. This time he knew this was HOPELESS. Absolutely devastatingly hopless.

France was no normal man. He was a sex GOD. But this one time…. Even HE felt the need to give up this sexual conquest. It was hopeless. 12 STRAIGHT days of failure.

He had been after Canada’s ass for MONTHS. Trying ever single little trick in the book to get into that adorable little man’s pants, and make sweet sweet love to him all night long. No problem, right? Canada was the perfect prey! He was sweet and quiet and dammit he should have been perfect!

Finally, France convined Canada into having sex with him. That was the start of all of his tortures.

The first night… the first night they tried it was a failure. A horrible horrible failure.

It had started out normally… that was the night Canada finally invited him into his room for some sweet love making. France had his plan perfectly set out. It started out slow… sweet gentle and erotic kisses, slowly peeling away Canada’s clothing and his own… he was putty in France’s hands. PUTTY! But what happened that night?

France had finally gotten to his pants. He undid the button on Canda’s pants and zipped down his zipper, slowly sliding off his underwear and pants……

Canada came.

France had not even laid ONE SINGLE FINGER on his vital regions yet. NOT ONE. And Canada CAME. France sat there in shock and stared, semen dripping off his stomach as Canada stuttered out a few thousand apologies. Somehow the little shit got all his clothing on again within two moments and darted out of the room, leaving France alone.

OH! But the torture didn’t stop there! It went on to the second night!

France tried again. He got the same invitation, deciding to go a bit faster this time… perhaps catch some sex with Canada and have some fun BEFORE the other man got too excited and let it out. He also had quite a few convincing little phrases to help the man keep it in….

This time the exact opposite problem happened. He went faster, yes, but…. Canada couldn’t get it up. France was sporting a fully erect boner…… and Canada’s stayed limp. France tried EVERYTHING to get it up. His mouth, fondling, wordplay, feeling around….. NOTHING could get the damn country’s penis erect!

France tried for half an hour just on getting it up. Canada apologized the entire time, looking like he was going to cry or something. He get his clothing, running out of the room just like before.

But France was no ordinary man! He was determined! He was damn determined to get amazing sex from Canada, one way or another!

The third night, another failure. None of the problems from before…. A new problem arose. In fact it arose and REFUSED TO GO THE HELL DOWN.

France did actually get to sex this night… but it was HORRIBLE. He ended up getting both of them nice boners, and they made love. France came, expecting Canada to follow shortly after…. He didn’t. France tried to get him to come by oral…. Nothing. He got another boner, tried sex another time…. Nothing. Wasn’t having a boner for this long unhealthy?! Throughout the entire time, Canada was profusely apologizing, close to tears, embaressed that it wouldn’t go down. Once France didn’t have ANY energy left and all the fun was sucked out of sex, Canada gathered up his clothing and left.

Fourth night. Canada knees France in groin during foreplay, France is in horrible pain for the next hour. Canada apologized profusely, gathers clothing, and leaves.

Fifth night. Canada shows up drunk, vomits on bed during sex. France is mentally scarred and horrified. Canada apologizes profusely… he gathers his clothing and leaves.

Sixth night. Canada falls asleep in the middle of sex. He wakes up after being shooken around a bit, apologizes profusely, grabs his clothing and leaves.

Seventh night. Canada has a gruesome rash down under, France is disturbed. Canada apologizes profusely, gathers his clothing, and leaves.

Eighth night. Canada’s rash is gone, bit somehow has sports-cup glued over vital areas, unable to remove it from after the hockey game he had that day. France can’t get it off. Canada apologizes profusely, gathers his clothing and leaves.

It was the ninth night now. More than a WEEK of bad sex, night after night after night. France was so very tired of it…. He didn’t know how much more he could handle. He waited in Canada’s room, waiting for that magic time of the evening Canada would walk in……..

He did. This time, he showed up in a giant bear costume. A GIANT. BEAR. COSTUME.

“Ah… the zipper’s stuc-“

France interrupted.

“You know Canada… I think I am going back to my house now. It was nice to see you again…” he said, slowly getting up and walking out of the doorway, trudging out of Canada’s house and off to go back home.

It was the only conquest France ever gave up on.

Back in the house, Canada waited until he saw France leave…. Then he smirked, picking up the phone and giving a special friend a very well-deserved phone call.

A very groggy voice picked up.

“’s ‘merica….” A tried voice answer, audible yawn heard on the phone.

“Listen, About that money you now owe me… send it to me in a giant briefcase. With a bear on it. Delivered by people with pancakes and maple syrup. Guess you can ship it up this weekend, eh?” Canada said with a broad grin, sitting down on the bed and unzipping his bear costume, beginning to wiggle his way out of it.

“………………. You didn’t.”

“I did.”

America didn’t answer for a while, but then responded. “Dude… you actually got him to leave your house without threatening him?! Did you use the fake rash?!”

“That AND the perma-cup. Took a lot, But I did get him out of my house, don’t you know.” Canada said, laying down on the bed now with a smirk. Finally… his own bed again.

“God dammit, I was sure I was going to win that bet.” America said with a defeated sigh, grumbling. “Yeah yeah, I’ll send the money up this weekend. Bear-cases and all.” He grumbled out, before saying “Gotta go though… talk to you…. Lat….” Snores were now heard on the phone, coming from America.

Canada hung up the phone, chuckling before he pulled the covers up around him, turning out his light.

That would be the last time France decided to mess with HIM.