Notes: As said in the summary, this is CRACK. Cracky smut with strong sexual content. So yeah, you're warned.

Also, don't eat while reading this.

Edit: My awesome friend srcpcsoha drew a scene from this fic as a comic! Check it out! (Though I recommend reading the fic first so it makes more sense.) srcpcsoha . deviantart # / d5gmkcn (take out the spaces)


Last night I had the most jizz-tastic dream.

So there I was at McDonald's, right? I went inside but instead of all the normal stuff there was a giant pile of hamburgers. A whole mountain of them just waiting for me to eat! But that wasn't the only that was waiting there hot and ready for me. England was sitting on the pile of burgers totally naked!

You guys should have seen it. I'm sure you wish you could, because you're probably a pervert like him. He was sitting there, lounging with his legs spread, cock erect, and giving me this 'come and get it' look.

I was like, "I'm loving it!" (Da-da-da-da-daaaa …)

And he was like, "I love to see you smile."

And I was like, "I wanna have it my way!"

And he was like, "That's Burger King."

And was I like, "I don't care! I still want it my way!"

Which is topping, by the way.

Then the worst thing happened! I woke up! Wait, did I say this happened last night? Shit, I meant this happened at the G8.

I felt a sharp elbow in my ribs. "Huh?" I said as I startled awake before any of the good stuff happened.

"How dare you fall asleep during a G8 meeting!" England whispered, all pissed off. "You're lucky I woke you up before anyone else noticed. You should be grateful!"

I looked around. Germany was standing up and giving some boring speech about carbon emissions and global warming, or something like that. But I was more concerned about nocturnal emissions and my lower half warming up, ha ha!

I sat up and stretched my arms really wide. "Ahhh!" I said as I yawned. "Yeah, thanks a lot, England. I really appreciate it!" I was being sarcastic, in case you couldn't tell.

Suddenly England reached over to my face with just his index finger. He touched it right under my lip, then wiped upwards. "Disgusting," he whispered. He still held out the one finger, now covered in my drool. "You were drooling in your sleep."

"You're the one who's touching it, soooo …"

England still hadn't moved his hand. He was holding it out, his finger between us, all wet and starting to drip. I was still horny from my dream so in my mind I was thinking, 'lick it, lick it, lick it,' because that would be so hot. I imagined him putting it in his mouth, sucking it off, drooling on his own finger, mixing our spit together …

But then he just wiped it on his pants and looked back to Germany. I kept thinking he'd turn back and whisper something again, or at least give me a glance, but no. He was actually paying attention to this stupid meeting. So boring, jeez!

"America," someone suddenly said. I didn't realize who it was at first. I just knew it wasn't England so I didn't care all that much. "I believe it's your turn. I yield the floor to you."

"Huh?" Oh, it was Germany. "It is? Uhhh, does anyone want to go before me?"

Everybody looked shocked! Like :O

"What is zis?" asked France, being snooty and French. "America is passing up an opportunity to be ze center of attention? Perhaps we should repent. It may be a sign of ze end times, no?"

"Shut up, France."

"America, it's your turn," said Germany. "You cannot disrupt the planned schedule of today's events! I won't allow it!"

"Yeesh, OCD much …"

"Umm, I think what they mean, America-san," started Japan. "Is that it's unlike you to relinquish an opportunity to … umm … instruct others in what they should do …"

"He means you like to boss other people around," said England like a dick.

Now normally, I do enjoy my turn. I am always overflowing with good ideas and I need to release them all over my fellow countries. Like an idea bukkake, if you will. But today was a little different. Because I had a raging boner and I didn't want them to see.

"Well, can I just sit down while I talk?" I asked. "Because I don't feel like standing up today!"

"No, you can stand up, lazy arse!" said England.

"I agree," said Germany. "It's proper to stand up. It's easier to see and hear you that way."

"Shit. I mean … great!"

So then I tried to think of unsexy thoughts to kill my boner. Baseball, dead kittens, baseball, dead kittens, baseball, dead kittens, England sitting naked in a pile of hamburgers …


Stupid sexy dream! Now everyone was gonna see me pitching a tent while giving my speech! Whatever is a hero to do?

"Well?" Germany said all impatiently, "what are you waiting for?"

I couldn't very well say, 'my hard-on to go away,' could I? So instead I quickly blurted out, "I'm sick! Very sick!" They looked startled, maybe even believed me, so I kept lying. "I ate at England's house before I came! Oh sweet baby Jesus, I think I have the food poisoning!"

"Wha …!" England practically choked. "Liar!"

"He just forced it down my gullet and now my stomach is in great despair! Oh, WHOA IS ME!" I'm a great actor, you guys. I wasn't overselling it or anything.

"Hmm. If that's the truth, then you can be excused, America," said Germany.

"Yes, I agree," said France. "Eating zat limey eyebrow freak's cooking is torture on both ze tongue and ze body! America, you have Big Brother's sincerest sympathy …"

"Oh, come on!" said England, clearly pissed off. "My cooking's not that bad!"

But no one agreed with him, ha ha! Thankfully for me and the bulge in my pants, they agreed to skip over me and continued the meeting. They even offered to let me go home early! But I didn't because then they'd see my boner when I got up, duh! So I looked like a hero for sucking it up and staying through the meeting. What is the moral here, boys and girls? Boners solve problems! Or something like that …

It was Japan's turn and he started talking about … something. I don't know. It was boring and I wasn't paying attention. I just leaned back and thought about how I so totally got away with having an erection during a G8 meeting. Cool beans!

"Pssst," whispered France. "Zat was quite amusing what you said about England's so-called cooking."

"I know, right?" I whispered back.

"It's even funnier coming from you, of all people."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Nice cock, by the way."

"Oh, thanks."


Later, after the meeting, I realized that France's comment meant he'd seen my boner! When I finally did, I was sad, as I also realized that I didn't get away with it after all. Darn!

My hard-on eventually went away on its own. It only took so many of Germany's barking commands at other countries, Russia's kololololing at everyone, and Italy going "VE~ PASTAAAAAA SPAGHETTIIIII VEEEEE~!" before it shriveled back to its normal state. Seriously, you guys. That crap is annoying.

HOWEVER! On my way home I kept thinking about my sexy dream with England and was starting to get horny again. When I got back to my house, I was already planning on how to deal with the situation in my pants.

I thought long and hard about it. (LOL long and hard). I could do my usual masturbating routine. You know, the habitual lube up, stroke stroke stroke, cum in a crumpled paper towel, be done with it. Or … I could spice things up, as I did on occasion. I mean, I'm America! I'm always overflowing with good ideas. But I've covered that already.

I like to get creative sometimes. Really creative. So that night I broke out the sugar, cinnamon, flour, and whatever else was supposed to go in the recipe. Then I realized that I'm a shitty cook and just went out and bought myself a damn pie instead.

Yep, I brought it home with me from the local Wal-Mart. A good ol' fashioned apple pie. Mmmm.

I got the idea from a movie. I can't remember what it was called, but it was American and mentioned a pie. And sticking your dick in it. Did you guys know pussy feels like warm apple pie?

It wasn't warm when I got it home so I popped it in the microwave. I like it nice and warm when I did it. Um, not that I did this all the time! Just on occasion. It's a very patriotic way to masturbate! There's nothing more American than apple pie! Plus it's great because after you're done you got dessert too.

I took a big whiff of it as I got it out of the microwave. Mmmm! Smelled like cinnamon and apples and whatever else went into pie! Don't ask me, I had England teach me how to cook and you can guess how that ended. (Not well.)

I set it on the kitchen table. Then I poked one finger through the crust to see how hot it was. Didn't wanna burn my dick! That'd be one awkward conversation at the hospital, am I right? Luckily it wasn't too hot. It was warm - just the way I wanted it. I dropped my pants to my ankles and picked up that sweet, sweet dessert.

I wasn't hard yet, but with my free hand, I started to pump myself to get warmed up. I thought about my dream. All those burgers and naked England and being all spread eagle with this so-totally-asking-for-it look in his eyes … yep! That was plenty to get me hard.

So with my very eager boner anxiously twitching in my hand, I guided it toward the pie. I slowly pushed it in the small hole I'd made with my finger. It was so WARM! Unf! Just like the real thing. The head of my dick was completely inside, overwhelmed with the warm sensation of delicious pie. I kept pushing, another inch or two, then I hit the bottom of the pan. No matter. I slid myself sideways, along the length of the pie. So then I was all the way in. My entire cock engulfed in warm apple pie.

"Mmm, yeah," I said to the pie.

So then I started to thrust into it. I hunched over it awkwardly, pushing myself in and out of that sweet, sweet pastry. It made a weird noise as I violated it. A wet sorta schlelp schlelp noise. But God did it feel so good. So warm, so moist, so American …

A whole twenty eight seconds later, I came hard into the pie. I cried out a weird noise, then went, "Aw, YEEEEEAHHH …" as it came out of me. Jizz spilled into the pie, looking like thin strings of melted Cool Whip all over it.

When it was over, I had to sit down because my knees felt kinda wobbly. I sat down at the table. I slid my dick out of the pie and set it back on the table. It looked pretty rough. Most of it was still there, but all messed up. The crust was so broken up you could barely see it. It was mostly the apples and the filling, whatever that stuff was made of. Oh, and my cum.

Took me a minute to catch my breath. Pounding your cock into a pie can really take it out of you! But once I recovered, I grabbed a fork. Because I was hungry and that pie smelled damn good.

It's not gross. I can just eat around the jizz, duh!

So I started to eat it. "Nom nom nom," I said, happily munching away. I like pie.

Ding dong!

"Hmm?" I said with the fork still in my mouth and my cock still out and exposed. Someone was at the door? At this hour? Interrupting my post-masturbation feeding time? Whoever could it be?

So I pulled up my pants and went to the door. I looked through the peephole to see that it was England. But he wasn't naked and sitting on a pile of hamburgers. He was in his usual green uniform and sitting on nothing because he was standing.

But I opened the door anyway. "Yo, England," I said. "Kinda late to be stopping by, huh? Aren't old men like you usually in bed by now? Hahaha!"

"Shut up and let me in."

"Well, uh, I'm kinda busy right now."

"With what?"

I glanced back to the table with my half-eaten pie. England followed my gaze and saw it. "Eating dessert this late? That's not good for you. That's probably why you've put on weight …"

"I'MNOTFAT!" I said very quickly and so not defensively! Really, you guys! I wasn't being defensive at all! Seriously! I really wasn't! Gosh!

"Why are you eating? I thought you were so sick anyway?" he said with this dickish smirk. "Right? Wasn't that the lie you told everyone today?"


"So you admit it was a lie!"

England kept on nagging me about stupid crap, but I wasn't listening. I was too busy thinking about pie! Eating it, not banging it. Though both were very good. So as he was talking about God knows what, I turned away and went back to the table. He followed, still bitching away about this and that. I was like 'uh huh, yeah okay, uh huh' the whole time, not paying attention to a word.

"… and the G8 is not the place for that! You must be professional …!"

Nom nom nom. I sure love me some pie!

" … you must force yourself to be more mature. Today was such an embarrassment, for example when …"

Munch munch munch. So sweet, so delicious!

"… and another thing! I haven't even mentioned you falling asleep …"

Oh, pie. You are the best food ever. Aside from burgers, of course.

"Hey! Are you even listening to me? !"

My mouth was stuffed with pie. "Huh?"

"Quit eating that damned pie and pay attention!"

"But it's soooooo good!"

"Hmmph! I'll be the judge of that." I was like WUT but England was serious. "Come on, now. Cut me piece."

"Are you for real, dude?"

"Yes! All this teasing you do of my cooking is insufferable! Let me see how yours tastes in comparison."

"Uhh … I don't think you wanna do that."

"Oh?" His dickish smirk was back! "Scared it isn't any better than mine? Ha! I knew it!"

"WHAT! I'm loads better than you at cooking! Not that that's saying much, but still …"

"I hardly believe that. But if you do, you won't have any problem proving it." He turned around and started to go through my cabinets. "Where are your plates? Ah, here they are …"

"You really want some of my pie, England?"

"Of course." He held out the plate. "I want to prove you wrong. And then you can never tease me about my cooking again."

"'Kay," I said, trying to hold back a big grin. "Lemme get a knife to cut it …"

"Christ, you eat like a pig," he said as I got one out of the drawer. He was looking at the pie. "Look what a mess you made of it!"

"Oh, uh, yeah … I guess I'm a sloppy eater, huh?"

"I'll say. I better not be eating your saliva in it!"

Ohhhhh. If only he knew what else was in there, he wouldn't care much about saliva!

"Here you go." I pushed the piece onto his plate with the knife. "Enjoy!"

"We'll see."

I got him a fork and took a break from shoveling food in my face to observe. I watched as he scooped a bit of the pie on his fork, slowly brought it to his mouth, carefully put it inside, hesitantly chewed, then finally swallowed with a gulp.

"Well?" I asked. "What'd you think?"

"Not bad," he said, looking away. "I mean, it's no better than mine! Don't get the wrong idea! I wouldn't say it's terrible though …"

"You can have as much as you like!" I said happily.

Don't tell him Wal-Mart made the pie, you guys. That'll just be our little secret, m'kay?

So he sat down and we ate together. He from the plate, looking awkwardly at the floor, and me out of the pie pan and not worrying about awkwardness.

I thought I totally got away with it and then all of sudden he asked, "What's this white stuff in it?"

I froze mid-bite. "Uh … Cool Whip?"

He was chewing very carefully, like he was really concentrating on what it was. "Doesn't taste like it. It's not sweet."

I swallowed. "Umm … what do you think it is then?"

"I don't know. It tastes familiar, but I just can't put my finger on it …"

HAHAHAHAHA! I was LOLing on the inside. England had said it tasted familiar! Oooh, guess we learned a little something about him, huh? He'd tasted it before, pfffft! That's hilarious!

England was really thinking hard. "What is this? God, it's driving me mad …"

"Told you, it's Cool Whip." I took another innocent bite. "Yep, Cool Whip. That's all it is. Mmm-hmmm."

I don't know if England believed me. He kept eating, but he was staring down at the floor hardcore. He looked like he was thinking really hard about something. I wondered what. Then I saw a bit of drool trickling down the corner of his mouth.

Now was my chance! I did the exact same thing England had done to me during the meeting. I reached up with just my index finger, wiped the drool with it, and held the finger there for England to see.

England startled when he felt me touch him. Then he looked and saw the spit dripping down my finger.

"I guess you really like the pie, huh?" I asked. "You're drooling and everything."

"I-I said it was alright …" he said all grudgingly.

So then I did something totally crazy. With him still watching, I brought the finger to my mouth and slid it in. I did all sexily. You know, slowly, playing it up, not unlike if it was a dick. Then I held it in my mouth for a few seconds, sucking on my finger.

England was like :O

I slid my finger out. "Do you really think spit is gross, England?"

He still looked all flustered. It took him a moment to respond. "… y-yes! That was disgusting!"

"That's the third time today you've said spit is disgusting. What's so gross about it?"

"It …" He was blushing. I totally saw it! "It just is!"

"So you think kissing is gross?" He looked confused, so I continued. "I mean, lots of saliva gets swapped during that."

"That's different."

"How so?"

"Well, of course you only kiss someone if you love them!" He said it so defensively, but he didn't seem like he believed his own words for some reason. "Or at least … lust after them. I mean, if you kissed someone you didn't like, you would think it was gross."

So I decided to take that as an invitation. I had no idea if it actually was, but oh well, I was doing it anyway! I don't accept any objections! That's how I roll, y'all.

Before England realized what I was doing and could push me away, I leaned over and smashed our mouths together. I pushed open his lips with my tongue and licked inside. He had been eating while talking, so there was a bit of pie in there. Mushy, pre-chewed pie. But that was okay, because it tasted good. It didn't bother me if it was all mushy with his spit. I scooped it with my tongue into my own mouth, pulled back for a second to swallow it, and then pressed our lips together again. I resumed licking inside, feeling all in his mouth with my tongue, tasting him, and he tasted like pie.

Finally I pulled back, drool dribbling down my chin. "So?" I said, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. "Was that gross?"

As England stared back agape, I saw that he had drooled on himself during the kiss as well. I wanted to lick it off. My mouth was salivating at just the thought of getting near his mouth again.

England couldn't look at me when he finally answered. He looked away at the floor again, blushing. " … no," he said quietly.

"So that means you either love me or lust me!" I said, totally happy and enthusiastic. "Or at least don't hate me!"

I think he was gonna say something else but whatever. My mouth interrupted his, by pressing against it for another kiss. Then I pulled back sideways to lick away his drool at the corner. "Mmm," I said through the kiss. "You still taste like pie."

"That really -" England had to pull back, but our lips were still close, "turns you on, doesn't it?"

"Mmm, yeah. I really like pie." I slipped my tongue back into his mouth, but then he pushed me away by the cheek.

"Go … go get your Cool Whip."

I swallowed. "Huh?"

"Get your Cool Whip." England's face looked different. It wasn't all 'WTF IS GOING ON I'M SO FLUSTERED BLARGH' anymore. His eyes were only half open, his cheeks pink, and a mischievous smirk was formed by lips I'd somehow reddened by sucking at them so much. "We can have fun with it."

Oh shit. Did I really have Cool Whip? That was a lie. That white stuff was really my cum! I made my way to the fridge, pretending to know exactly where it was. I opened the door, thinking please be in here, please be in here, dear God in heaven or even Satan in hell I don't care which, just let there be some dang Cool Whip in there!

So I pushed past the Sunny D and some purple stuff, and there it was. The delicious dairy whipped topping in a can. What a lucky break! Good thing I love eating, huh? I always got a good supply!

I pulled it out and held it up tantalizingly for England to see. "Hmmm?" I said with a sexy grin.

"That's Reddi-wip."

"Huh?" I looked at the can. Oh yeah. That's right. Cool Whip isn't in a can …

"Idiot, can't you read?" asked England with a chuckle.

"Heh heh, yeah, I'm so dumb, huh?" (I'm not really, I just didn't want England to know I tricked him into eating my cum, okay? Please don't tell him, you guys.)

"Oh well. Whipped cream is whipped cream," said England as he took off his shirt. Let me repeat that. TOOK OFF HIS SHIRT. You thinking what I'm thinking? Sexy times are about to happen, am I right? ! At least that was my hope! My dream come true, really! (Kinda literally, though there wasn't a pile of burgers.)

"WOW! You're eager, huh?" I said, all excitedly. "You're already stripping and everything!"

England cut me a glare. "Don't make me regret this."

It was more like a threat than a tease. But England hopped up on my kitchen table anyway. I was shocked, SHOCKED people! But hey, I definitely wasn't complaining. He undid his pants and started to slide them off.

I shook the Reddi-wip can. "I'm just surprised at how willing you are to do this," I said.

The pants hit the floor. Nothing was left except boxers and black socks. "Well, truth be told, I haven't been entirely honest with you."

I squirted a little of the whipped cream into my hand to test it. "What do you mean?" I asked as I licked it off.

His fingers curled along the top of his boxers. "I was sitting beside you in that meeting today, you know …"

My eyes weren't on his face. They were lower. "So?"

"So … I noticed. Took me a while, but I noticed. I believe it was during France's turn, when he was discussing more involvement from you for Tripoli, and you told him to fuck off."

"Ha ha! I remember that! That was totally hilarious. Hahaha … ha ha …ha …" My laughter slowed. "… wait. You noticed … uh … my …"

"Yes," said England bluntly. "I saw it. And it hasn't left my mind since. In fact …" Stupid talking! It was keeping England from taking any more clothes off! "Since then I had a dream about you …"

"Whoa! Was it at McDonald's?"

"Eh? What, no … it was …" England shifted uncomfortably. "… sexual."

So was my McDonald's dream, gosh! "Tell me about it," I said as I took off my glasses and started undoing the buttons on my shirt.

There was a long silence. I don't think he wanted to tell me. I didn't think he would, but then he opened his mouth, and I was like, 'oh wow he's doing it!' "It took place at the meeting," he said quietly. "I dreamed that we were both there, and you threw me on the conference table. Suddenly we were both naked, except that you had a cowboy hat and I had a top hat. I don't know how they stayed on, I guess because dreams don't make sense, but you started to ride me. You rode me fast and hard, yelling and screaming, bucking like a madman … with all the other members of the G8 watching. And cheering us on."

Dude. Just … DUDE. "Ha ha, what the fuck!"

"I came so hard during that dream."

Bottoming or not, I was getting horny just listening to it! I had no idea England was so kinky! Wait, yes I did. He's the Erotic Ambassador, how could I forget? "Wait, England," I said. "That wasn't that long ago. How'd you have a dream? Did you have a nap or something?"

His eyes widened. And he didn't respond at first. He just let his mouth hang stupidly open. "Well," he finally said, glancing at the floor again. "Maybe … actually … it was just a day dream, after all …"

"Damn, you are kinky! Ha ha!" I laughed. "You thought you could fool me! Passing off a day dream as a regular night dream … I ain't falling for that!" I had been LOLing at England's expense, but when I looked back, I saw that England was pulling down his boxers. I was like OH SHIT because I wasn't expecting that. He scooted his butt up for a second to get them from under himself, pulled them down his legs, then tossed them on the floor. Then his bare ass was sitting on my kitchen table. Which is a little gross now that I think about it, because that's where I eat, ya know? But at the time I didn't care because hey England was getting naked in my kitchen!

Then he gave me a look, and oh man. I can't describe it, boys and girls. It was so horny and lusty. Not unlike my hamburger dream. It just seemed to say 'come and get it' and UNNNF. It made my cock jump to attention. Saluting to half mast in .03 seconds!

"Bring the whipped cream," he said with a sexy smirk.

"OKAY!" I said excitedly.

I got close to him. Real close, standing over him. So close that I brushed against him. When I did that, England leaned back to lie on the table, legs dangling off the edge. I shook the Reddi-wip can again and squirted it on his right nipple. FSSSSSSH! it said as it sprayed out. One big dollop and I moved onto the left. FSSSSSSH! it went too, covering it and then some.

"Come on, get creative," England said. "Do more."

MOAR you say? I chuckled as I drew a curved line sideways across his stomach. "Heh heh … look how silly you look."

"Huh?" England looked down himself. "What! You drew a smiley face!"

"Pretty funny, huh?"

"No! This supposed to be sexy!"

"Well, what the hell did you want me to do? A frowny face? Because that's just fucked up …"

Suddenly England snatched the can from my hand. "I'll show you." He held the button down and didn't stop. He made a thick line all the way down his body. It went from his neck all the way down to his dick. Then he kept it there at his cock, which was about half hard by the way, and just kept spraying and spraying and spraying.


Which is like a lot of letters.

"Wow. Can I have some dick with my whipped cream?" I asked, cracking up.

"Shut up. I want plenty of attention there."

"Ha ha ha … doesn't it bother you? How cold it is?"


It suddenly stopped, and I realized England had used the last of it. He tossed it on the floor with a clank. "A little, but it's fine."

England looked so slutty like that. Sprawled out on the table, wearing nothing but black socks, covered all over with white stuff, giving me this look

How could I resist?

I leaned over him, straddling him, and licked at his neck where the whipped cream started. I sucked hard and he pushed himself closer to my mouth, moaning 'mmmm.' My tongue traveled down the whipped cream trail, lapping every bit of that sweet topping. I came to his nipples, which each had a small mound of the cream on them. I dove into one, lapping and slurping away. Mmmm, that stuff tasted awesome! Then I finally reached a nipple, very hard from the cold chill of the Reddi-wip. I latched on and gave it a good suck.

England gasped loudly. I could feel the sharp intake of air with the rise of his chest. Then it made short, shallow breaths as I kept licking and moved onto the other nipple. When I had eaten all the whipped cream on that one, I took the hardened nipple in my mouth, clasping it lightly between my teeth, and bit down a little.

"AHH!" England cried out. I felt his hands on my shoulders, trying to push me off to get me to stop. But I'm stronger than him so that didn't happen.

I licked softly and then suckled gently on the nipple, trying to soothe it. He seemed to calm down when I did that.

I continued down his body, reaching his stomach area where I had drawn the smiley face's mouth. I had to lick sideways. His abdominal muscles quivered under my tongue, rippling with my touch. I left a long, wet trail of spit all along him. But he didn't seem to think it was gross that time, ha ha!

Then I kept going lower. Lower and lower, following his trail until I reached between his legs where he had left the massive glob of whipped cream. I dove on in, because that stuff is good! At first I didn't feel or taste anything but the Reddi-wip. Then as I kept going, I felt the outline of a firm shaft. I ran my tongue over the top of it, sliding along the vein. I licked around it a bit more, trying to get as much of the whipped cream as possible, then returned back to the very erect cock. I took in the head first, still only tasting the sweet cream, then slid more inches in.

England arched back. "Ahhhh …" he hissed. He put both his hands on the back of my head.

I suckled at his dick, feeling slight twitches from it pulsing in my mouth. To take more length I relaxed my throat muscles by humming. I think it was the tune of a Hannah Montana song. While doing it I could slid more inches in, taking the entire length in my throat.

"Yes, yes, yes, yessss …" England whimpered, curling his fingers in my hair.

I bobbed up and down his shaft. I was doing a pretty good job, but I was horny and that was a distraction. Without even realizing I was doing it at first, I began grinding my hips against England. Even through my pants, I still wanted friction. It wasn't half-mast anymore, I was at a full on hard on. I grinded hard against him, trying to feel something, trying to get some sensation on a very neglected cock.

As I sucked away at his dick, England noticed. He pulled my head back and I took a long, deep, much needed breath. "H-here," he said. "Come up here." He grabbed me by my shirt collar and urged me to get up on the table with him by pulling. I happily climbed up. As I was still getting up there, England's hands were already fiddling with my zipper and pulling my fly down.

Talk about eager, DAMN!

We both scooted back and I straddled over him, on my knees. England pulled both my pants and my boxers down off my ass, so then I had to roll off him and look dumb as I pushed them down and off my legs.

When I finished, I looked back and England had switched things up on me. "I have an idea," he said with raspy, weird sounding breath. "Go get something else to lick."

I jumped off the table and rummaged through the fridge. Let's see. Mayonnaise? Naaah, I don't think that's very sexy. Barbeque sauce? Ugh, I think that'd sting our peeholes. Grey Poupon? Well …

No wait, there it was! Chocolate syrup. That was perfect! I was like SWEET DUDE and rushed back over to England with it.

He seemed happy with my choice. Because he grabbed it out of my hand and drizzled it over his cock again. I scooted closer to him on the table to see. Then I was taken by surprise as he turned the chocolate sauce to my direction and squirted it all over between my legs.

I watched it started to drip down my cock, mixing with the precum that was already leaking and dribbling down it. "What … what are we doing?"

He was still squeezing the bottle, the chocolate trickling down me in thin trails. "Thought we'd please each other at the same time."

"What do you mean?"

The bottle made a weird heaving type sound as England reached the end of it. The empty bottle was tossed aside. England sure does like to litter in my kitchen! Gosh!

"You'll see."

England turned himself around, getting on all fours. I was like WHOA THAT'S HOT because I got quite an eyeful. I saw his ass in plain view, so close to me, with his ball sack peaking around from the bottom. He backed up onto me, straddling me backwards, and then we were really close. His ass was right in my face!

Most of his weight went to one elbow as he reached back with the other hand. He grabbed his cock by the base and pulled it back toward me. He had to shift upwards as to not bend his dick in half, and I realized he wanted me to lay back some, so I lowered myself. So then his dick was dangling right in front of my mouth.

"Keep going where you left off," said England.

I took it back in my mouth, going 'hmmm,' to the tune of that Hannah Montana song, so that I could go back to deepthroating. It slid down my throat, and I started to bob up and down it again.

Then I gave a quick yelp. But it sounded weird, because I had a cock down my throat. England had opened wide and swallowed my own dick. No warning or nothing, he just shoved it right in there. Then he sucked hard, making his cheeks go in and hollow and look really weird.

69ing for the win!

A couple sucks and he pulled back. My cock slid out of his mouth, covered in his drool. "Why … why does your dick taste so good?" he asked.

That … was never a question I had ever been asked before! "Umm … because I'm awesome?" I said with a question mark for some reason. "Oh, wait. Probably because it's covered in chocolate syrup!"

"It doesn't taste like chocolate," he said, licking his lips. "It tastes like … cinnamon."

"Uhhhhh …"

I didn't wanna tell him it was because I fucked an apple pie (that he ate too, jizz and all!) so I needed a distraction. I went back to work on his dick. I took it back in my mouth really quickly, and starting sucking and bobbing crazy fast and hard. I rolled my tongue, I took in as much length as possible, the works, dude …

England squirmed, letting out a loud groan. Then he collapsed on me as I continued. I think his knees went all wobbly and he couldn't support himself anymore. I had to hold his ass up just to reach his dick. "Oh fuck …" he whimpered, digging his nails into my sides. "Yes, yes, yes, please, yes, God …"

I didn't really taste the chocolate syrup anymore. I had at first, but eventually I sucked it all off and then I could only taste his actual dick. I prefer chocolate, but both were way better than what I tasted next. Because England came in my mouth. While he was still pretty deep in my throat too, so I started to gag. I think he got off on my throat spasming around him, that sick fuck, because he didn't pull out and just kept coming down my throat.

He moaned loudly, like a deep, "OHHHHHhhhhhhhh …" noise.

Dear sweet baby Jesus, it tasted so NASTY! I would have gagged even if it didn't go down my throat like that, but just from the taste. UGH! So gross! Seriously, dude!

"Mmm, mmm!" I whined desperately, trying to push him up and out of me. I tried to say 'take it out' but it just came out as muffled sounds since a cock was still down my throat and all.

Finally he finished coming and fell limp on me, ass and all. I wasn't bothering to hold him up anymore. Not after he made me choke on his cum like that, that big meanie.

I wasn't sure if I should swallow it or spit it out. I had to make the decision really fast and sometimes I can't (Not that I'm slow! Don't get the wrong idea, you guys!). I just sorta held it in my mouth, thinking about it. Some of it dribbled out the corners of my mouth as I tried to make my decision. But then I guess reflexes kinda just took over and I swallowed the rest with a big gulp.

He was breathing really hard, muttering things like 'oh God' or whatever. Yep, I totally distracted him from asking more about why my dick tasted like pie! SCORE!

"You're welcome," I said.

"Uh …" He still didn't lift his head. "Thank you?"

What was with that question mark? I thought England was supposed to be a gentleman. Gentlemen have manners, duh!

So you all can picture this scene, right boys and girls? I am lying on my back, England is lying on top of me in the opposite direction, and that means something pretty obvious. His ass was totally right in my face. You get where I'm going with this, right perverts?

I ran my fingers along him, trying to scoop up as much of the chocolate syrup and some of the whipped cream I hadn't gotten. When I'd gotten a good amount on my hands, I rubbed my fingers together, coating them with it. It was kinda sticky but oh well. I was gonna make do.

With my other hand, I pulled at one of his ass cheeks, spreading him wide and open. Then I poked in one finger, really quickly before he knew what I was doing, still covered in the sauce and cream.

"WHAA!" England yelped, clenching himself. Well, that was no good. I wasn't gonna fit anything in there with him all uptight and butttight!

So I pulled my finger out. I saw his muscles slacken when I did that, and heard a sigh of relief. But he flinched again and gasped when I poked in the tip of my tongue.

Thank God it tasted like the chocolate sauce and whipped cream, am I right?

"Nnnmmph …" he groaned. He pushed his ass backwards towards me, I guess trying to get me to go deeper.

I pushed my tongue in a little more. I wriggled it around inside him, feeling his hole quiver around me.

But then it started to taste godawful, because let's be honest here, I was licking his ass. The chocolate syrup and Reddi-wip ran out pretty fast. So I slid my tongue out before I could gag again.

"I … I need something else to taste …" I said. "But I'm out of the chocolate sauce and whipped cream …"

"Uhh …" said England really fast, like he was thinking hard about it. "How about - umm - well what else do you have?"


"Ugh … what else?"


"What the bloody hell is that?"

"Uh, mayonnaise flavored like bacon, duh!"

That's a real thing, you guys. Y'all should try it. It's pretty good. Works great on sandwiches, burgers, probably dicks. You know, normal stuff.

"I think I have something that could work, actually …" said England. "It's stuffed in my shirt pocket."

"Oh, yeah! You're always hiding food in your shirt for meetings! Like ice cream for some reason, even though it melts …"

England was straining to reach his balled up shirt on the other side of the table. "Almost got it …" He got it. "Ah, got it!" Told you.

I couldn't really see what he was doing. I could tell he was unscrewing the lid to something, and then I heard it clink on the table. He scooped whatever it was, still not moving from his position, and then reached his hand back to me covered with some brown sticky stuff. "Here, use this."

It looked weird, but I scooped it from his hand anyway. Then I wiped it down his ass crack. When he didn't tensed all up like last time, I slid a finger in to coat inside him with the stuff.

"Yay, you're more relaxed now," I said.

"Please … please don't ever say 'yay' during something like this ever again …" he grumbled.

What was I supposed to say? Boo? That's not cool. Um, duh, England.

So then I got two fingers in. Yaaaaaay. I kept it to myself that time, because I didn't wanna hear England's bitching. Once I got a pretty good amount of that stuff inside him, I pulled my fingers out, and replaced them with my tongue again.


Dear sweet merciful GOD, it was disgusting! The grossest thing ever! So nasty! I was all like EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWW in my mind, which was screaming like that, because my mouth was paralyzed in shock from such a horrible taste! Damn, even licking bare asshole tasted better than that nasty stuff! UGH!

My eyes watered and I gagged again. I made a weird noise, cross between a whimper and a shriek. Of pure disgust! I actually almost threw up all over his ass. Wouldn't that have really unsexy? Blowing chunks while sexings was about to happen? Not cool.

" … the hell's your problem?" asked England, turning his head back to look at me.

"Eeew, God! This is soooooo gross, England!"


I gathered all the spit in my mouth I could and spat at the floor. "Oh crap, I can't get this nasty taste out! Aw, jeez! Eeeeeeeeewwww!"

"Oh, come on now! It's Marmite! It's good!"

"Yuck, that stuff's awful! Why would you do this to me? !"

"Shut up," he snapped. "There's nothing wrong with Marmite. It's delicious."

"You're soooooo mean!" I whined. "Here I am licking your ass for your pleasure, and you make me taste yucky Marmite crap? !"

"You're acting like a child! Stiff upper lip, come now."

"Englaaaaaaaannnd! Get this taste out of my mouth!"

"Christ. Go get something else to eat if you're going to be like that."

So that's exactly what I did! I pushed England off of me (he went 'oof!' all surprised) and hopped down off the table. I was jamming over to the fridge. As soon as I got there, I threw back the door and started to eat everything I could get my hands on. Cold pizza, cheese slices, whole pickles, leftover chicken wings, even the baking soda I left in there to keep it smelling fresh (though that was an accident.) I just went NOMNOMNOMNOMNOM! in an eating frenzy, shoveling anything and everything into my mouth, trying to get rid of that nasty taste.

I didn't even notice at first that England had come to stand beside me. He was looking into the fridge and thinking really hard.

"Wha are you doin'?" I asked, food flying out of my mouth.

He was still staring at the fridge, rubbing his chin. "Looking for something else we can use …"

I swallowed my bite. "Oh, you mean for the sexy times?"

"Damn." I don't think he was listening to me. "You really do have Baconnaise in here …"

Suddenly I was struck by one of my great ideas. "Hey, look, England!" I pointed to my dick, still rock hard. I'd slid a doughnut around it. "That's sexy, right? You should eat it off."

He stared at it and made a weird face. "Why … the bloody hell … would you put a doughnut around your penis?"

"I was trying to keep all this sexy foodplay going, gosh! Excuuuuuuse me!"

"That's not sexy … it's just idiotic."

"Well, FINE!" I pulled off the violated doughnut and took a bite. "So what do you want then?"

England bent over. He was squinting his eyes and looking really hard at something down low in the fridge. "This might wor - FUCK!"

When England had bent over, I just went crazy. Or at least my dick did. How could I resist such a tempting, vulnerable position, with his cheeks spread and his asshole exposed right in front of me? I leaned over him, grabbed my cock by the base, and pushed it in with one quick motion.

He tensed up around me, and WHOA did it feel good with him so tight like that. I pressed my chest close to his back, finishing pushing the last inch or so in.

England sorta fell against the fridge, pushing the door closed with a thud. Then his face was smushed up against it, rubbing against my plastic magnets and crayon pictures as I thrust hard into him.

"Uurrggh …" he groaned. I couldn't tell if it was a 'ouch that hurts' noise or a 'ooh yeah I like that' noise.

But I kept pounding away anyway. With each thrust he was rammed harder into the fridge door. He turned his head to the side to breathe, but half his face was pressed completely flat against it.

I probably didn't prepare him enough so he was really tight. Sucks for him, but boy did it feel good to me. So much pressure on my cock, like OMG.

I was sooooooo fast, you guys. Like super rapid humping. I was really giving it to him good! Sorry I'm rough, but that's how I roll, boys and girls. It feels good that way.

You could hear this quick slapslapslap of skin between us, and this nasty squelching noise. But I didn't mind. I don't think England did either, because he started moaning in time with my thrusts. Quick mm,mm,mm,mm! whimpering noises. Eventually the noises became words, "yes, yes, yes, yes …" he practically sobbed.

But my body was like 'LOL NO' I guess, because going that fast, I wasn't gonna last long! It wasn't even a whole minute before I came and jizzed all inside him.

"Yaaaaaaay," I said as I came.

England made an irritated sighing noise. But I didn't care. Because I was coming, duh.

When it was over and the last bit of man juice was pumped out, I slumped against England. I was kinda squishing him in between me and the fridge. "Wow," said, trying to catch my breath. "That was awesome, dude."

England glanced back at me, not looking quite as happy as my cool self. "That sure didn't last long."

I didn't pull out yet, but could feel myself turning soft inside him. "Um, whatever! Quality over quantity, DUH!"

England pressed his hand against my chest, trying to push me off. "You just shoving it in and out as fast as you can isn't quality."

"You seemed to be enjoying it." I finally pulled out of him and stepped back. My cum dripped out of his ass and trickled down his thighs. "I think you just like to complain about things."

England flipped around. Half his face was red from being smashed up against the fridge. "Shut up," he said, rubbing it. "I saw some honey in the refrigerator. Let's use that and keep going."

"Honey? Umm, no. Think about that for a minute. Waaaaay too sticky."

He looked annoyed. "You say that like you've tried it before without much luck."

Funny story, actually! I was feeling frisky one night when I didn't have any warm apple pie. And anyway, you know that saying? Land of milk and honey? Meaning something that's really good and pleasurable? Well, forget that. That stuff's way too sticky. Also forget the milk because it spoiled and I got a tummy ache :(

"What's wrong with using Baconnaise?" I asked because that stuff is awesome.

England turned around and opened the fridge. "It's disgusting!"

"No, your nasty Marmite is disgusting!"

"Oh, shut it and help me find something."

"How about this?" I was gonna reach for some ketchup because HELL YEAH KETCHUP but then I accidentally knocked over a jar. It shattered on the floor between us.

"Fuck!" yelled England.

"DUDE!" I yelled at the same time.

Our feet and legs ran red. But not with blood, eew. That would have been gross. It was a jar of marinara sauce. I used it for lotsa SPAGHETTI!

"Look what you did, idiot!" said England. "You could have cut us!" I thought it was pretty funny that even though he was bitching and nagging me he was still sporting a major boner.

I dropped to my knees. "Let's use this, England! It'll work!"

"What! Bolognese? But that's not sensual!"

I shrugged. "So? And it's not Bolognese, it's tomato sauce, get it right."

"It's just … bizarre."

"Aw, come on. You act like we're the first people to ever do this. You think Italy hasn't tried it? I bet he loves rolling around in marinara sauce going, 'VEEEEEE~ PASTA MMM~ YEEEAH THAT'S SEXY~!' and rubbing it all over himself."

England rubbed his forehead. "That … was not a mental image I needed."

I pulled at his wrist. "Come on! Please! It'll be fun!"

He rolled his eyes and heaved a big sigh, that drama queen. "Not a word about this to anyone, okay? Especially Italy."

"I told you, he totally - OH wow, you're actually doing it."

England sat down on the floor with me. He looked a little unsure. "You realize this is a fetish, right?"

"What is?"

"Using food like … this …"

I swirled my finger in the sauce and licked it off to taste it. I wanted to make sure it wasn't the spicy kind (thank Jesus for our orifices it wasn't.) "What do you care? You're hella kinky."

He blushed and looked away. "That's France! And besides, I was talking about you … I didn't think you were kinky at all. I always assumed you just liked plain vanilla sex."

"Vanilla, chocolate, it's all good."

"That's not what I meant -"

I scooped up some of the tomato sauce with my hand. "We gonna do this or what?"

"Watch the glass, idiot!" he said all frantic. "And no. Not like that."

"Like what then?"

England carefully slid his hand through the sauce on the floor. He was scared of getting cut by the glass, LOL that pussy. When he had a lot on there, he crawled closer to me, bypassing the tomato spill. He slapped his wet palm on my chest, then slowly smeared it downwards, leaving a red trail.

He glanced up at me with this look, and crap. My cock was stirring to life again for the third (fourth? I lost count) time that day. His eyes were half lidded as he smirked and licked his lips.

"It's my turn," he said.

How could I forget that through all this, England never lost his erection? He was thinking with his dick right then. I don't know how he could stand it for that long, honestly. I mean, I couldn't. If I was that horny I would have bent him over and banged the hell out of him. Oh wait, I did that.

He moved his hand away and replaced it with his tongue. He licked down my chest, following the trail of sauce.

I gasped on reflex, then tried to pass it off as a laugh. "Hahh! … ha ha … you're very eager with your tongue, huh?"

"Mmm," he purred as he took one of my nipples in his mouth. He flicked his tongue over it, which made me squirm, because it was already all hard and sensitive. I wanted more attention, so I swiped some more sauce from the floor and wiped it on my other nipple.

"This one's getting jealous, England."

He pulled back, drool hanging between his mouth and my chest. He licked it away, then eagerly latched onto my other nipple. He sucked hard, drinking up the sauce and pulling my nipple inside his mouth.

I was getting hard again. England really knew what he was doing with his mouth. Of course, he's a huge pervert, so that's not really a huge surprise, is it?

"Go lower," I urged, pressing down on his head.

"Patience," he said, releasing my nipple. He drew back to gather up more of the marinara sauce. He covered both his hands in it. When they were dripping red, he pressed them palm first against me, and slid down. He started rubbing, massaging, like he was finger painting with my body. He started high but gradually worked his way down lower.

When he finally got to around my hips, I was breathing really funny. Short, shallow breaths. He rubbed his fingers across my hip bone, like caressing it, then lowered his head to lap up the sauce his hands left behind. It was turning me on so hard, whoa.

Finally he let his red, wet hands come between my legs. Both of them started to rub and knead all around the area around my dick, smearing it red, but did not touch where I really wanted him to.

"Come onnnnn, England," I whined.

"Tsk. So impatient."

He began to massage my balls, turning them red too with the marinara. That was enough to finally get me completely erect. My cock was standing at full attention, flushed red with arousal and anticipation. Not tomato sauce. Just arousal and anticipation.

England lowered his head and left kisses in a long, drawn out circle around my dick. As he made his way around, his cheek accidentally brushed against the tip of my cock. I gasped as a trickle of precum seeped out.

"Englaaaaaaand!" I whined. "Hurry uuuuup!"

One of his hands was carefully rolling in more sauce on the floor. Once covered in it, he pulled his head away, and grasped his moistened hand around my dick.

"Y-yeeeeah," I sighed pleasurably. I bucked my hips up into his hand. "Touch it …"

He stroked a couple times, coating the sauce all over it. Then he stopped, that stupid cocktease. That's what I thought until he slid the head of my dick inside his mouth, swirling his tongue around that sensitive spot.

"Mmmmm," I moaned. (I almost said yaaaaaay again, but I stopped myself.)

He stretched his lips wider to take in more. Oh yeah, he never finished the job from earlier, did he? Not much of a 69 if he stops halfway through! So I was thinking, 'yeah, finish what you started, lazy ass,' but then I felt something. Else.

England was wriggling his tomato-y finger into my entrance.

"Whoa, whoa," I said quickly. "What are you doing?"

"Shhhhhh," he said with my cock still in his mouth. The vibrations from him talking felt niiiiiice.

I don't know why I let him continue. I'm not much for being the catcher. I prefer pitching, ya know? But when you're hot and bothered, your mind just … I don't know. It happened, let's just leave it at that, boys and girls.

Somehow England managed to squirm and cram that finger inside me. Brrrr, that sauce was cold! I mean, I knew it was cold from it being on the rest of my body. But being inside your body is a little different. He pushed the finger in and out like it was a penis. All the while still giving me a thorough mouth-fucking.

I was actually okey with it until he added another finger. I don't know why I didn't see it coming. That's usually how these things go, right? One, two, three fingers, dick.

Wait, shit. England really did intend to put his penis in me!

Yep, there it was. A third finger. It was hurting then. Like a stinging pain. I wasn't used to stuff being shoved up there. Generally I like to be the one doing the shoving. It's more fun, y'all.

England slid my cock out of his mouth. It was covered in his drool. I didn't see any marinara sauce left at all. "America … please."

"Huh?" I opened my eyes. I hadn't realized I'd been squeezing them shut since when he started fingering me. "Please what?"

His voice was so low I could barely hear him. "… do me like in my dream."

"WHAT!" I exclaimed. "At the G8? ! Germany would shit himself in anger!"

"No, no," he said, his voice kinda raspy. "H-here. Throw me on the table and ride me like I described to you in my dream …"

"You mean your day dream?" I teased.

I thought he'd get all pissy be like 'shut up stupid git blah blah blah' but he just sighed, like a happy sigh, and said. "Yeah …"

Wow, he can be nice when he's horny. I wish he was like that more often! And not just so I could fuck him. (Though that's very nice too.)

"OKAY!" I happily agreed.

"You can be rough if you want."

I lifted him up and held him bridal style. I am so freakin' strong, you guys. I'm totally ripped. Picking him up was so easy for someone like me. I gots lots of muscles. You jelly?

"You don't gotta tell me twice," I said.

So then I threw him on the table. Like, literally threw him. He grunted painfully.

"I didn't mean that part to be rough!" he bitched.

"Dude, you need to be more specific."

I hopped back up on the table with him. England was on his back, so I climbed on top of him, straddling him.

"I had a dream with you in it too," I said as I wrapped my hand around his dick.

"Oh?" he said, giving me this sly look. "What about?"

So there I was on all fours over top of England. No, wait. All threes. One of my hands was holding England's penis, duh. I pumped it in my hand. "It was at McDonald's."

His smirk disappeared. "Huh?"

My hand stopped stroking him, remaining frozen at the base. "I walked in and you were sitting naked on this humongous pile of hamburgers. Like … sexfully."

"Th-this is what you fantasize about?"

I lowered my hips to meet his. "Well, I liked it, if that's what you're asking …"

"You're as perverted as me - ah, AH!" he gasped, arching his back and clenching.

I clenched hard too. As he was talking, I had guided the tip of his cock to my entrance and slid it in. And WHOA SHIT did it feel uncomfortable! Okay, it hurt. A lot. I had a dick in my ass, what do you expect.

I froze with just the tip in because I was scared to push in more. I didn't think it would hurt that much. Heroes get scared sometimes too so shut up.

"Ah …. ahhhhh …." England hissed like he was really enjoying it. Lucky bastard. "… y-you all right?"

"It hurts," I said as if it was obvious.

"You did it to me. What's the matter?" he asked in a douchebaggy tone. "Can't handle it?"

That pissed me off. I'm America! Greatest, most best country in the world! I can handle anything! Even a dick, you guys. "Course I can! Just you watch, I can take a dick like a pro! I'm the best at everything, and this is no exception! You'll see!"

All that sorta just came outta my mouth and I have no idea why. It does that on its own sometimes. England apparently thought it was hilarious though, and started laughing at me.

"Oh, America …" he said, chuckling.

Damn it! How patronizing! Yeah, I know what that word means! Well, I'd show him. Next time he said 'Oh, America,' it wouldn't be to humor me, it'd be in a cry of pleasure, HA!

I pushed through the pain and impaled myself deeper. It felt like it dragged on forever. One, two, three, inches … was that it? Shit, no, there was still more. I bit my lip, not wanting England hear me groan, and finally pushed the rest of it in.

"O-ohhh, America …" he whimpered.

Told ya!

He was fully sheathed inside me. Then I realized that was just the beginning and I had to move. It was weird being on this end of things!

"It'll feel better once you get into it," said England as if he knew how much it hurt.

"Marinara's not really a good lube."

I leaned over, pressing my hands against his stomach for leverage. When I felt steady, I started to pull my hips back, then pushed down again. It stung like buuuuurning. But because I'm hella strong and could take it, I did it again, starting a slow rocking pace.

"Oh, God," I heard England mutter as he let his head roll back. His eyes shut but his hands gripped me around the hips, moving up and down with me.

"When does it start to feel good?" I asked.

England didn't respond at first. I looked to his face, which was kinda hard to see with him lying almost limply on the table. He was drooling on himself. Fucking drooling, you guys!

I'm sure I was tight as fuck, since it was so painful for me. That wasn't very fair. England got to be on cloud friggin' nine and I'm stuck with a sore ass! WUT!

"Sh-shift a little," England finally managed to say.

So I did. "Now what?"

His breathing was all heavy. He looked like he could barely concentrate on talking to me. "K-keep shifting while you're moving … you'll hit your prostate eventually …"

Oh, so I gotta shift around, and keep moving up and down? Jeez, I gotta do all the work!

"This is bullcrap, England. How about I pull out and we switch and -DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE!"

"Heh heh …" England chuckled. "I'm guessing you found it?"

WHOA. I couldn't describe it! It was like something bursting inside me! Something good I mean. Something really good! Just like a wave of pleasure hitting me all at once! The other part still friggin' hurt, because duh, I was being impaled by a thick rod of manmeat, but MAN! It was suddenly all worth it.

I started happily bouncing up and down on England's cock. I had to get MOAR. I rocked my body hard, sliding him in and out of me, at a crazy fast pace. I was quite eager!

"Shit, America …" England hissed. His fingers curled, trying to grasp into something, but there was just smooth wood table underneath.

Every push, every thrust, every bounce struck just the right way. Over and over and over I was wracked with pure pleasure. Okay, not pure, because it still kinda stung a bit. But the good waaaay overshadowed the bad, so it was cool.

"I wish I had that cowboy hat!" I said. "I wanna swing it around and go yeeeeeehaaaaaaw! Ride 'em, cowboy!"

England wasn't listening to me. He was squeezing his eyes shut and going, "yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah," really fast under his breath.

"And if you had that top hat, you would tip it and say," I put on my best British accent for this next part: "'Excellent job, chap. Jolly good show!'"

"Mmm, yeah," said England, obviously not really listening to me because even I know British people don't talk like that.

Once it started to be fun, I'd relaxed some. I was content (okay, ecstatic!) to ride him now that I knew it could feel good. The pain greatly lessened to the point that I couldn't really feel it. So I thrust even harder down on him, penetrating myself even deeper, striking my prostate as hard as I could …

England gave me a firm, open-palm spank on the ass. I flinched and yelped, "AHH!"

"Uuufff …!" he moaned when I tightened up. His face was twisted in pleasure. "Y-yeeeah …" he shuddered.

Then I realized he was coming.

'Noooooo,' I thought. Because the fun was about to end and I hadn't even finished yet!

"Wait, England," I started to say, but didn't really help because I didn't stop bouncing on his cock. It twitched inside me, filling me with a hot, wet sensation.

"Fuck …" he said as he let himself go limp.

And not just his muscles! I could feel his dick shriveling inside me, going soft, even as I tried in vain to keep it hard by still rocking up and down on it.

"Heh heh," England chuckled at me. I guess my desperateness was amusing to him. "Here."

England sat up a bit and wrapped his fingers around my cock. It was dripping, precum sliding down multiple sides of it, aching for stimulation. He stroked, hard I might add, gripping very tightly.

Now it was my turn to throw my head back in pleasure. "Yaaaaaaaay …" I choked out as I arched into his touch.

"Tsk," I heard his tongue click. "That is so annoying."

My 'yaaaaaaay' gradually turned into more of a whimpering, gurgling sound. I was orgasming. I came for the third time that day, this time all over England's fingers. His hand pumped it all the way through the orgasm, finishing me off proper.

We both lay there on the table for a while. Just trying to catch our breath, reeling from our orgasms, and letting our cum dry because we were too lazy to wipe it up.

Speaking of wiping up …

"Hey England," I finally said.

"Hmm?" said England lazily, not bothering to look at me.

"You're totally gonna help me clean up this huge-ass mess, aren't you?"

There was Reddi-wip, chocolate syrup, a little Marmite, and marinara all over my kitchen. It was on the table, the floor, smeared on the fridge, everywhere. Oh, and cum too. Can't forget that one.

Not to mention it covered our bodies as well, leaving us spotted randomly white, brown, and red and STICKY all over.

After a long pause, England sighed. "Where are your towels?"


The next day was another G8 meeting. I came in, happy as a clam, since I totally got laid last night. But I was immediately informed by France that England had called out for the day!

"Huh? He's sick?" I asked.

"Oui. It seems he got a bad case of food poisoning," said France. "Claimed it was from some bad pie he ate."

WHAT! My pie? ! There was nothing wrong with that pie! I ate most of it myself and I didn't get sick! Why the heck was England lying? He did to spite me for lying about his food yesterday! What a jerk!

"America, please," said Germany. "Take your seat. It's Japan's turn to speak right now."

Everyone but Japan and I were sitting at the table. I was standing above my seat, crossing my arms. "Uh, no thanks!"

"You can't stand up if it isn't your turn! Let Japan make his speech!"

Germany was getting kinda pissed. Japan just looked nervous.

"Oh, don't mind me, Japan! Go ahead and talk. I'm not taking your turn. I just … don't want to sit down."

"My, my, what is zis, now?" That was snooty France, who somehow knew something was up, that clever bastard. "Yesterday you wouldn't stand up, and today you won't sit? What has gotten into you, America?"

'A dick,' I thought, but of course didn't say. My ass was sore as hell! No way did I wanna sit on it when I was so butthurt from riding England last night.

"Sit down this instant!" commanded mean ol' Germany.

"You know … I think I'm sick too." I put the back of my hand to my forehead. "Oh, wow! I'm burning up! I better go home now."

"Why did you come to the meeting if you were still stick?" asked Germany.

"Still?" I hesitated. "Oh, yeah! I was sick yesterday, wasn't I?" Forgot that lie. Whoops! I slowly started to back up, nervously bumping into things as I did. "Oh, y-you know, dedication and all that … but I guess it's worse than I thought … sooooo …"

"Fine," said Germany. "Excuse yourself if you must."

"Yes, I will. Sorry for interrupting, Japan!"

"Oh, d-don't worry about it, America-san. Just please feel better …"

I was almost to the door.

"Oui," said France. "Not much you can do about it now. But for next time, I recommend more lube."

"Yeah, totally! Marinara sauce doesn't even work that well!"

Took me a minute. One godawful awkward minute of their faces going D:

… oh shit.

France cackled, Germany shook his head, Japan blushed, Russia kololololed, and Canada probably did something but I wasn't paying any attention to him.

I rushed out of the door because that was hella embarrassing.

As I hurried down the hall, I heard Italy say to the others, "Ve! He's right! Alfredo sauce works sooooo much better!"


What a shitty meeting! I just wanted to go home and drink all the Sunny D and purple stuff in my fridge until I forgot it all.

I opened the door and almost pissed myself in surprise. Right in the middle of the room was England, sitting naked on a giant pile of hot dogs! Seriously! It wasn't a dream, it was for reals!

The only thing on him was a hot dog bun around his dick. He even had put a line of ketchup and mustard on it.

"Well?" he said seductively. "What do you think? Just like in your dream, eh?"

Took me a minute to respond. "U-uhh … it was hamburgers. Not hot dogs."

His smirk turned into a frown. "Oh, really? Damn, I thought I had this perfect."

"No, no! Don't get the wrong idea! I love it!"

"Oh, really …" That seductive look was back. "I should have known by the way you're already drooling on yourself."

"Oh, England. You don't know the half of it."


"I just jizzed in my pants."