Hetalia Chibi Italy Novels & Stories

Raphael boyishly grinned. I gave him a blushed smile and took a glass of water. "Raphael teach me Italian will you?" "You want to really learn Italian?"He asked immedately, staring at me. I nodded with a broad smile. Raphael gave me longing, lustful eyes before slowly licking his bottom lip which suddenly got me shuddering. "Now" he began as he joined me on the hospital bed. "Let's start with catchphrases and short sentences. Voglio fotterti qui"

As he tugged at her nipples, a sharp jolt of pleasure coursed through her, and he ground lazily within her, each movement a slow, deliberate tease that kept her on the edge. In the haze of passion, she realized her camisole and shorts had been discarded, leaving them both completely naked. The comforters lay forgotten, tossed aside in their fervor. His breath was warm against her ear as he murmured, "I like you like this," his voice a low, seductive purr. "So beautiful and pliant, sei la mia piccolina troia," he added in Italian calling her his little slut , the words a possessive claim that sent a shiver through her.

I wanted to be free. Pushing my ass up in the air, he gently caressed my reddened butt making me moan in relief as he kissed all over my asscheeks. He moved my keens apart and positioned himself at my dripping core. “Tutto gocciolante, solo per me!” he grunted out something in Italian as he pressed his large and bulbous pink head at my entrance. (All dripping, only for me!) He reached out for my head and pushed it back down on the sheets till my hair blocked my view and my cheek was plastered on the cold white sheet.

Both tip their heads in her direction as she approaches them, but only one of them steps forward when he spots me behind her. He's big and built like the offspring of a grizzly bear and a giant sequoia tree. From the way he's eyeing me, it's clear he's already imagining all the ways he can snap me in half, which is fine by me because I wouldn't mind putting a bullet in his skull either. I do not trust Italians. They're vile, cruel and incapable of putting anyone but themselves first.

She rolled her eyes, turning around and smiling again. "I have to look my best in my dream country." She mumbled, walking past him to the car. As far as he was concerned Italy to some people was meant only for the Mafia, the gangs, and Glades. "Why is Italy your dream country? You did say it was because of me, right?" He asked as they got into the car. "Yes, it was." She answered nonchalantly. "Why?" "Because every time you made me cry I was so determined to join the Mafia and make you pay. I did imagine skinning you alive and burning your flesh... dipping the catapelta into your knee and spurting out blood from your lungs..and..."

Stop crying Mummy] He was shouting now and shaking Alcina like a rag doll, ‘Smetti di piangere, smetti di piangere’ [Stop crying, stop crying] He dribbled and then his eyes darkened, ‘Sei molto carina, Gio ti vuole come mamma‘ [You are very pretty, Gio wants you like he did Mama] His fleshy paw reached for her breast and he squeezed it making her cry out then his hand moved over her belly, ‘Apri le gambe abbastanza dai a Gio la tua figa o ti farà male come mamma [Open your legs pretty give Gio your pussy or he will hurt you like Mama]

In seconds I was slippery, aching and ready. But my Italians were devils: diovoli; masters of choreographed teasing. With accuracy and artis my labia were slowly eased apart and the bud of my sex exposed. But not touched... ‘Please,” I gasped as Pietro released my mouth and attached his lips to my neck.

In the last ten years, there have been no more tiny and cute baby births in the Kingdom of Italy. "Wow, that king is really evil. Just watch out if I see him again, I'll..." "Are you sure you dare to fight against the lycan king with that weak body of yours?" Berta interrupted Alexa's words. Alexa just smiled, then returned to continue her cooking activities.

He softly placed his left hand to the small of my back and linked his fingers through mine with his spare hand as he pulled me gently closer to his chest, it felt wrong to place my hand upon his chest, but I awkwardly didn’t know where I should place it. “Micetta if you are uncomfortable just say, you do not need to suffer from my father’s unsubtlety’s” he smiled gently. Micetta? I didn’t know its meaning but his Italian accent was intriguing to my lonely heart. God I really was losing it. “Micetta?” I questioned with a tilt of my head. He chuckled softly “it is Italian for kitten” I froze, my blood running cold as my body physically jolted still with his words. All comfort I had been feelin

Atlast something I would also want to know. “Mia.” She sobs. Everything about her shouted Italian except for everything didn’t say Italian at all. She was as loud and overpowering, but also as fragile and dependent. “Well isn’t this a party?” Achille growls from behind me and the girl’s eyes shoot up from their intense chatter.