So I saw a prompt on the kink meme about England's cum tasting terrible and it made me LOL for real ... so then this happened.


Things were going well at first.

Damn well, in fact. England hadn't known what he'd done to turn America on so much, but he wasn't going to discourage him from so eagerly ravishing his body. Not when the American's mouth was so enthusiastic, working its way down England's body with sloppy, hasty kisses. They were just an excuse to trail down England's stomach, which had been exposed moments ago when America had forcibly pushed the shirt up. America made it clear quickly his true destination. He paused above the button on England's pants, then flicked his eyes up with a smirk.

This had been poor, rushed foreplay, but for some reason England was aroused already. Something about how excited America had been made the blood rush to between his legs. The erratic breathing should have been a big enough clue to America that England was turned on and definitely wanted this. But he didn't continue until England was more clear. Instead he just mouthed England through his pants and looked up with eager eyes.

England watched for a moment. He saw a wet spot form on his trousers were America sloppily mouthed at them, rooting for his shaft through the fabric. England then steadied his breath just long enough to look like he was in control of this situation. Then he returned America's smirk.

"Go on."

Instead of being coy, America flashed a big cheesy grin. Though he felt slightly ashamed when he saw England reciprocate with a patronizing look, so he thought he would make it up. He tried to be seductive, sexy - something. He tried that by attempting to unzip England with his teeth. But when he found the task to be more difficult than it looked in movies or porn, he huffed and unzipped with his hands.

England chuckled at him. Then again, did he really expect sex to be perfect when he'd been accosted from behind while making dinner? This was far from a planned event. One moment he was lost in thoughts of steak and kidney pie and poring over an old cookbook, trying to get it just right (The fact that he was using both the stove and oven at the same time was not a good sign.) Then the next moment America had grabbed him from behind, mouth sucking hard at his neck, hands roving down his hips then smacking him on the ass.

England just wanted to whip up something nice for supper. Really. But before he knew it, he was thrown on the kitchen table, apron hitting the floor, shirt untucked and forced up, and a very excitable America straddling over him.

Not that England minded too much.

When that damn zipper was finished with, America grabbed England's pants by the waist and tugged them down. England helped by shifting himself up and allowing them to slide off. They were tossed on the floor by his apron.

Suddenly there was a hiss near the stove. The water in a pot (cooking God knows what) was boiling over, turning immediately to steam as it hit the hot stove.

England startled, suddenly sitting stiffly up. "Shit," he swore. "We should do this after I finish making dinner."

"No, let's do it now," said America, tugging down England's boxers.

"It's going to be ruined if I don't keep tending to it -"

"Who cares?" he interrupted. "Your food always taste like shit anyway!"

England wanted to scolded him. He really did. But it would have been impossible to take seriously. Not when he was scooting himself up so that America could slide his boxers down and off. Obviously there couldn't have been too much of a protest for him to do so.

America realized this too. Who's going to argue with someone about to suck your cock? There are better things for that mouth to do.

England's lower half was completely exposed. His cock, swollen and flushed, stood inches from America's face. America just grinned up at England - a childish, excitable grin.

England huffed. "If you're making me ruin dinner for this, you better get on with it!"

America snickered, trying to think up a joke about how he wouldn't be able to tell the difference anyway, but couldn't come up with anything funny enough.

Then he finally obliged. He reached with his hand first, gripping the shaft between his thumb and fingers to give England a few warm up pumps. The harsh breath, more like a hiss, and sudden shift in position from England let him know it was much appreciated. America's hand slowed but didn't release, cupping England to guide him into his mouth as he lowered his head.

England squirmed slightly again, and drew a sharp intake of air. His eyes were squeezed shut for a moment, then he forced himself to open them so that he could drink in the sight below him.

America's mouth was twisted into a smirk around his cock. His eyes were locked on England's, looking up and studying his face for a reaction. England tried to smirk back, tried looking coy, but then America slurped around him. It was a sudden, forceful suck. It wiped what would have been a smirk off his face and replaced it with a mouth agape, keening an embarrassing noise, and widened green eyes.

"Hehehe," snickered America, letting the chuckle vibrate around England's dick.

England got a little revenge by running one of his hands through America's hair, then balling into a fist, pulling roughly. America wasn't deterred. He kept eagerly bobbing his mouth over England's cock, making sloppy slurping and smacking noises when he pulled back for fractions of air. England greedily watched America work over him. He enjoyed seeing America's lips stretched to accommodate and the bulge in his cheek that would appear and then disappear and then reappear again. England breathed hard, straining to keep it under control, all while rubbing and tussling America's blond hair.

Yes, things had been going well at first. Damn well.

But that changed when the smirk curved around England's cock started to turn. The corners of America's mouth slowly lowered, soon becoming a frown. His eyebrows curved in, looking concerned, and he glanced up to England pleadingly. Then he gagged.

"What?" said England. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

America pulled England's cock from his mouth, making that loud smacking noise again. This time he kept it out. He spit a little bit of something out of his mouth, letting it dribble down his chin.


England would have slapped America had his dick not been wrapped in America's hand, inches from his face.

"I do not!" he practically squawked in protest.

"Yeah, ya do." America was looking back to the still erect organ in his hand, but this time with a grimace. "I just tasted some of your precum, and GOD …"

"Oh, shut up." England bucked in America's hand. When America didn't take the hint, he maneuvered his hips, pushing back toward America's mouth.

But America smacked him away. "Oh, no, you don't! You're not putting that thing back in my mouth!"

"Come on …" pleaded England.

"No way, dude!"

"America … please …" he begged, squirming.

"I said no! I mean, man, if your precum tastes that bad, I can't even imagine what it's like when you actually blow your load!"

"I won't - I won't cum in your mouth," England said hastily, still breathing harshly. "I-I'll pull out before … just please keep going."

"What about precum? You can't help that."

"Just … spit it out as you go … I don't know …" The desperation was clear in his tone. He was still rock hard, America's drool now cooled on his cock, making him crave returning to that warm, wet hole.

"I'll still taste it!" America grimaced again, then spat on the floor. "UGH! WHY SO BITTER?"

England curled his fingers into America's hair, trying to pull him back down. But America ignored the cue. "Oh, and I suppose yours tastes like candy and rainbows?"

"No, but there's a difference!" said America. "Plus who knows, maybe if I ate some Skittles it might! You could taste my rainbow."

"… shut up."

It was difficult for England to speak. He was still so aroused, erection still very prominent, only inches from America's delicious mouth. Yet all America wanted to do with it was complain.

"I was just joking around," said America. "But seriously - I've heard what you eat can affect your cum's taste. So with all that shitty food you eat, it's really no surprise!"

"You ruin my dinner AND insult my cooking? !" England was pissed. Though not pissed enough to stop trying to edge his erection back toward America's mouth.

America gripped harder, letting him know it wasn't going any closer. "Well, sorry! But that probably is why! I mean, seriously, dude. You taste so gross."

"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad."

"It's like there's a party in my mouth, except everybody's jizzing in it, and all their jizz tastes godawful like yours."

"What the hell is wrong with you!"

"Hey, it's YOUR cum! I mean, DAMN, I didn't think I even had a gag reflex anymore! I was taking all your inches with no problem but just a little taste of you made me retch!"

"Unnnnghh …" was the weird, half-protest half plea England made, squirming in America's tight grasp. All he could think about was how wonderfully America's lips and tongue were moving around him just moments ago. The boy had an oral fixation and it showed in skill, eagerness - and not to mention, the ability to deep throat. He gave a damn good blowjob. Now that England had gotten a taste, he needed more.

But America just wouldn't shut up.

"I'm serious about your crappy food! It really does affect your cum," America continued, leaving England still sexually frustrated. "You should eat more fruit! It makes it taste sweet. Especially pineapple and melon."

England had been clenching his eyes shut, but they sprang open to glare at him. "How the hell do you know that?"

"Uh …" America hesitated. "I-I don't know! I probably read it on the Internet or something! It's not like I tried it myself."

England was too frustrated too laugh. "I'll eat whatever the hell I want."

"Then I'm not sucking you off either."

"It's really not that bad!" England protested. "You're just being a wimp! Come on now. Stiff upper lip."

"Yeah, both lips are gonna be real stiff because they're not letting you in, duh!"

"Damn twat!"

There was a brief silence. Both glared at each other, waiting for the other to back down. But of course it was no contest. Not with England still so aroused - not with America having the upper hand (or rather, his hand around England's cock.)

A desperate whimper broke the silence.

"Please, America," said England, a wavering in his voice. "Keep going … I'm begging you …"


The hair pulling and tussling had turned to a gentle stroking. Then England's hand stopped to come around, trace along his cheek, then lightly cup his chin. "If you do … I'll let you do whatever you want to me afterwards. You can pound me into this table until it breaks, be as rough and selfish as you want, I don't care."

America didn't reply. But his eyes widened - almost like there was a sparkle in them - as he intently listened.

"Or I'll return the favor," said England. "I'll suck you as hard as you want, no matter how you taste. I'll suck you until you're dry."

Oh, yes. America was listening very intently.

"Whatever you want -" England repeated. "- anything. We can do it. Just … PLEASE … keep going …"

America was grinning again. Not a smirk, but a cheerful, childish grin. "Anything I want, huh?"

England bucked his hips once. "Yes," he said very quickly.

America glanced to England's erection, still firm and dripping in his hand. His lip curled in disgust just thinking about how it'd taste. But thoughts of fulfilling whatever fantasy he could think of afterwards fueled him forward. He wiped the precum that had collected on the tip with his thumb, then looked up to England.

"You better give me something to drink after this to get rid of the taste," he warned. "And none of that tea shit either. Something good like Mountain Dew or Kool Aid!"

"Um … I think I have some Coke."

"That works."

America took a deep breath. He stared with a grimace at England's package nestled in his hand. This wasn't going to be pleasant.

Keeping his thoughts on what he'd do afterwards, America slid England's cock back into his mouth. It wasn't so bad at first. He continued bobbing like he had been before, tasting saltiness but not too much else. But that didn't last long. England arched into America's mouth, pressing deeper, hissing with pleasure.

America pulled back, gagging. He'd gotten another taste. He held England's dick in front of him as he spat, the mix of saliva and precum dribbling down to the floor.

"Keep going," England begged. He rooted for America's mouth.

America spat one more time before cringing and sliding his lips over once again.

"'s so gross," he slurred over England's cock.

America tried to use his lips more than his tongue, so that he could taste as little as possible. Instead of licking, he deep throated England, letting him enter fully. England quickly caught on but took advantage of this. He grabbed a fist full of hair at the back of America's head, then began thrusting into his mouth forcibly. America let out a muffled whine at first, but then just accepted it. He figured England would cum faster this way, and the faster that he came, the faster America could get to whatever HE wanted. So he endured the thorough throat fucking.

England was close. It was evident in his heavy, staccato breathing and the way he curled his fingers harder into America's hair. His thrusts became erratic and uneven. His eyes squeezed shut. And he whimpered, lowly, desperately, as he came in America's mouth.

Yes, in America's mouth.

America's eyes bulged as he wrenched back. There were tears in his eyes as he gagged. He was choking, as England had released mostly down his throat.

"S-sorry," said England, trying to catch his breath. "I didn't mean to cum in your mouth - it happened so fast -"

America managed to cough it up, and then most of England's cum was in his mouth. He looked bewildered for a moment. His wide eyes looked to England, pleading what the hell he should do. But it only annoyed England to see him with such a disgusted look on his face while holding his essences in his mouth. Well, that and slightly amused. He looked a little silly with his cheeks full and puffy, and flailing his hands as he tried not to gag again from the taste.

"Christ, just spit already," snapped England. "It's not that bad. Quit being such a damned pussy."

England expected to be yelled at, cursed at, maybe even struck. He certainly didn't expect America to suddenly stand up and kiss him deeply.

But England only thought it was romantic for a fraction of a second. Because the real goal became very clear. America pushed the wad from his mouth into England's with his tongue, then drew back.

America studied England's face. "How's it taste?" he taunted.

It was then England's turn to have puffed cheeks and a bewildered look on his face.

"It's not that bad, right? Don't be a pussy!" teased America.

England tried to play it cool, but the tears gathering in his eyes were a giveaway.

"Well?" America egged on. "You gonna spit or swallow? I mean, if it's not that bad like you said, there's nothing wrong with swallowing, right?"

England held it. Tears were starting to run down his cheeks, still puffy from holding the cum inside his mouth. He tried to make himself swallow. He tried but his throat muscles refused. It came back up, and he retched his own cum onto the floor.

"HAHAHAHA!" America burst into laughter.

America would have gloated more, but suddenly a fire alarm interrupted. It blared shrilly through the room.

"What the hell is that?"

"Fuck!" swore England. "My steak and kidney pie is burning!"

They both looked over to the oven, where a small cloud of black smoke was rising.

"Damn!" England rushed over. "It really is ruined!"

"Isn't that how you always cook it?" asked America with a laugh.

"Shut up! You owe me dinner!" England was desperately trying to fan the smoke away so that he could see. It was a weird thing to do without any pants on. "God! How the hell did we not smell this burning?"

"I couldn't smell anything over the stench of your nasty jizz."


America cackled and was quickly out the door. He figured nearly setting the house on fire probably ruined their little agreement (at least for now) and he didn't want to deal with the erection in his pants while in a smoke filled house anyway.


The next day, when England came home from a long day, he saw that a package had been delivered for him. And not just any package, but a gift. It was a fruit basket with a card left on his stoop.

England carried it inside and read the card. It said:

Hey dude, sorry about ruining your dinner last night! If it's any consolation, you ruined mine too (by ruining my appetite, haha!) I guess I really do owe you a meal though. How about I take you out for dinner sometime this week to make it up? Anyway here's a little gift to say I'm sorry about almost burning down your house!



P.P.S. Especially the pineapple and melon ;)