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The whole way over to America's, England had been fantasizing about what he was going to do to him. America had left England a not so subtle message on his phone, strongly implying that if England brought him some McDonald's, he'd put out. England eagerly took advantage of the opportunity, as that was a pretty good deal, especially if he ordered off the Dollar Menu.

England planned on fucking America senseless into the mattress. He just didn't expect the mattress to look like … that.

"… the hell?"

England stood in the doorway. The second he'd walked through, his devious smirk disappeared, replaced by a look of pure bewilderment.

America was sprawled out on a giant Hamburger Bed.

It had sesame seed covers to keep one warm, lettuce sheets, a blanket of cheese, and a round patty mattress. To top it off, there were little pickle and tomato throw pillows. (Throw pillows on a bed mean you know it's nice.)

America lay upon it, wearing nothing but tight red, white, and blue boxers. He looked like he had once been lying seductively, on his back, facing the bedroom door ready to greet England with an eager 'come hither' look. Hot and ready, like a burger from McDonald's.

Except he'd fallen asleep.

"America?" England asked hesitantly, still in the doorway.

"Nnn – huh?" America snorted awake. Then he sprang to his knees. "Oh, England, you're here!" he chirped. "Didya bring the McDonald's? !"

England tentatively held up the paper bag. "… yes."

"Mmm, yeah, bring that over here! I got a craving only some hot meat is gonna satisfy, haha."

England didn't move. "What the hell are you sitting on?"

"Huh? Oh!" America grinned widely. "My Hamburger Bed! You like it? I just bought it the other day."

"… it looks ridiculous."

"Aww, come on, it's awesome! And I was serious about the food – get over here!"

England heaved a sigh before crossing the room and handing America the paper bag. America excitedly took it and dumped it on the bed. He quickly unwrapped the first burger.

"Mmm, yeah, wrapper cheese," said America as he licked at the wrapper.

Oh how England wished he was that wrapper.

"Didya get me a drink?" asked America when the wrapper was clean.

"Yes, a McFlurry," replied England, holding out the drink. "Take it - it's making my hand cold."

America eagerly did. "Aww, sweet, I love McFlurrys!"

As America dug in to the greasy fast food, England's eyes fell back to the bed. That ridiculous bed. It even had sewn on sesame seeds on the covers! Someone really put a lot of effort into crafting that. After all – lettuce and tomato throw pillows? Classy.

England knew he shouldn't ask, but a morbid curiosity made him. "America … how much did you pay for this bed?"

"Just 25,000 dollars," replied America, stuffing a few fries in his mouth.

"WHAT? !" choked England. "25,000 dollars … what the hell were you thinking? !"

"I was thinking that this was a pretty awesome bed." America looked away, pretending to be sheepish. "I also thought it'd be a pretty awesome place for some pretty awesome sex."

England was speechless for a moment. His eye twitched. When England saw this bed, all he could think about was how ridiculous it looked. But apparently when America saw it, he thought about sex. England could not fathom how America's mind worked.

"I … I d-don't think I could," stammered England. He glanced back at the bed with a look of disdain. "It's just so ridiculous and distracting – the thought of even acquiring an erection on that thing … I don't know if it's possible …"

"Psssh, whatever." America gave him a sly look. "I saw the way you were looking at me while I was licking the wrapper cheese. Didn't seem like too much of a boner killer then, huh?"

England glared back. "I am not fucking you on a Hamburger Bed."

"Come on! It'll be awesome! We can roll around the lettuce sheets, haha."

England's expression didn't budge. "No."

America pouted for a moment, then hesitated, then grinned mischievously. He grabbed the red box of fries and tossed them all over himself. "Oh, oops~" he said in an obviously fake voice. "I spilled my fries alllll over myself! How clumsy of me!"

"… you have got to be kidding."

America pulled the elastic waistband on his boxers. Then he dumped the couple fries that were left into them, and let the boxers snap back. "OOPS! Some even went in my boxers! I wonder who will help get them out, hmmm?" He looked at England eagerly.

England slowly, slowly shook his head. "I … I can't believe you're trying to seduce me with McDonald's fries."

"Well, jeez!" exclaimed America, annoyed. "What do I gotta do to get you to bang me? ! Slather myself in ketchup and mustard and have you lick it off? !"

England grimaced. "Why do you keep suggesting things to do with McDonald's food? It's not exactly a turn on of mine." He sighed. "Here's an idea – how about we go to a normal place to have sex that's not a Hamburger Bed. And have sex that doesn't involve greasy fast food. Like normal people."

"But that's boring," pouted America.

"Well, I'm certainly not doing it on a Hamburger Bed," said England. "So pick somewhere else. The couch, the shower, hell even on your patio furniture, I don't give a damn."

America gasped. "What would the neighbors think!"

"I simply refuse to do it on the Hamburger Bed."

"Fine." America rolled over and flopped onto the bed. So that he was on his stomach, facing away from England. Giving England a nice view of his ass. "Then you won't get any sex at all. Take a good look at what you're missing. These hot buns could have been all yours!"

England hesitated. He wondered if this was a bluff. If it wasn't, was it worth it? Sex was sex, regardless of the shape of the bed beneath them.

"Hehehe," snickered America. "I said 'buns.' Get it? Because I'm eating a hamburger?" He took another bite, still giggling to himself. "God, I'm so punny."

England stared hard at America's ass. The close-fitting boxers left little to the imagination. They cupped him tightly, showing the curve of his firm ass cheeks. England thought they were so much hotter than any buns of McDonald's, even when left to swelter under the heat lamps.

America was facing the wall, midway through another bite of burger. But he choked around it. Because as he bit down, he felt England suddenly climb on top of him from behind.

"Shhh," hushed England, rubbing America's back as he choked. "Swallow it down."

America gulped loudly. "Oh, so you changed your mind, huh?"

He felt a hand grope his ass from behind. England cupped him tightly, his fingers digging into the fat there, making America squirm.

"Your arse makes a convincing argument," said England. "I suppose I have McDonald's to thank for giving me more to grope?"

"Heeeey … wait a minute … are you saying I have a fat ass? !"

The hand was rubbing then. Rubbing over the thin fabric of America's boxers, so thin that England could feel the skin underneath, and feel the way it tensed when America realized what England had meant. In response to that, England smirked, and gave America a quick, open palm smack on the ass.

"Eeep!" squeaked America.

"Sorry," said England, still smirking. His hand went back to rubbing, trying to soothe away any pain. "I just wanted to see if you'd eaten so much junk food that it'd jiggle when I slapped it."

America was about to protest (he'd been getting a DIET Coke with his Big Macs and Supersize Fries and apple turnover, thank you very much) but then he felt England's fingers slipping under the elastic waistband of his boxers.

"Wait," America said quickly. He flipped over, almost making England lose his balance above him, but then flopped back on his back. "Staring at the wall is boring. Now I can see!"

England resituated himself in between America's legs, spread wide and bent at the knees. He licked his lips as he noticed America's half-hard erection through his boxers.

"Getting excited?" England brushed his fingers over the bulge teasingly. With just two of them, he traced up the length of it, feeling it twitch underneath him.

America sucked in a breath. His fingers balled around one of the sesame seed buns sewn onto the covers. They worked fairly well to hold onto.

"I can feel you twitching," said England, looking down at him with hooded eyes. His fingers stopped brushing. They curled around America's shaft and tightened their grip. "Heh … I felt it just then. You twitching again. Getting harder. Getting bigger. Does this feel good?" England started stroking America over the fabric. Slow, teasing strokes. Strokes that brought him to a full erection.

"Mmmf …" grunted America. He gripped harder at those sesame seeds. Thank goodness they were there, or he'd just be clawing helplessly at regular, boring sheets. "Y-yeah … I mean, I stopped eating my hamburger for this so you know – a-AHH, fuck … ! – t-that's it's good."

"Heh … you like this spot right here, don't you?" England concentrated on it. The spot that had made America yelp. Right under the head. England rubbed it, teased it, with his fingers. A damp spot appeared on America's boxers as a bit of pre-cum seeped through.

"Ohh …" whimpered America, balling fists harder into those sesame seeds. "Crap, E-England, s-stop …"

England didn't. "Hmm? What's wrong?"

"Stop being a tease!" shouted America, sounding rather desperate. "Take my boxers off and do this right."

"No need to pout, love."

"Hmmph," America pouted anyway.

After giving America a couple last strokes, England pulled away his hand. It was joined by his other at the top of America's boxers.

"Hurry up," whined America as he shifted his ass to let England remove the garment.

England just wanted to savor the image of America beneath him, nearly naked, face tinted pink, fully aroused and hard, and begging for it. (England's brain cropped out the image of sesame seed covers beneath them, and the little tomato and pickle pillows.)

England smirked as he rolled down America's boxers. But the look and a good portion of his arousal disappeared when about a dozen McDonald's fries flopped out when he pulled them down.

"Fuck …" said England, looking highly annoyed. "I forgot you put those blasted things in there."

"I sure didn't." America squirmed. "They were hot. Almost burned me a little, haha!"

England got the boxers off and threw them, along with a few remaining fries, across the room.

"MY FRIES!" exclaimed America.

"Oh, calm down."

America grabbed the couple fries that had fallen to the sesame seed covers and sprinkled them over his crotch. "Eat them off of me," he said in a voice he thought sounded sexy.

But both his words and his actions nauseated England. "I don't know where you learned this was a turn on …" he began, shaking his head, "but this is not exactly normal. It doesn't do anything for me."

England felt a knee suddenly between his legs.

"Oh yeah?" said America cockily. He rubbed his knee at England's crotch. "What's this then? You got a McDonald's apple turnover in your pocket?"

England let out a shaky breath. America's knee was grinding rather roughly at an increasingly sensitive bulge. "N-no …"

America kept rubbing. "Then I'm gonna assume this is turning you on, hehe."

"Your arse turned me on," England insisted. "Not this damn McDonald's foodplay or whatever you're trying to do. And certainly not this bloody Hamburger Bed!"

America pulled away his knee, resting back on the bed. "Suuuure." His hips rutted up once, trying to hint to England. "Just you wait, England. We're gonna have so much awesome sex on this bed that eventually you'll be Pavlov'ed into getting a boner just at the sight of it."

"I doubt that." England crawled close between America's legs.

America spread them wider, making sure he had plenty of room. "You will. And next time you'll get that apple turnover for real and you'll drip that artificial apple filling stuff all over me and lick it all up, hehe. Whaddaya say?"

England lowered his head. "That sounds like rubbish."

"Fine then. I'll drip it on YOU and lick it off. I just gotta blow on it first because that crap is hot when you first – OH SHIT –"

Speaking of blowing and licking, England had lifted America's cock up and dragged his tongue along the underside.

"Oh man!" exclaimed America, reaching both hands down and placing them behind England's head. "I-I didn't you know you were starting!"

England reached the head of America's cock. He gave it one last lap, right on the tip, then glanced up to America with a smirk. "Shall I stop?"

"NO!" America shouted very quickly. "Keep going!"

"Mmm," England hummed as he opened wide. He slid in the entire head of America's cock. He sucked hard at it, pumping the base with his hand.

"Oh God," whimpered America. His fingers curled into England's hair. "That feels so good … mmm, yeah …"

"Mmm-hmm," slurred England. He slid in more of America's cock. He kept sucking, sucking so hard his cheeks hollowed out.

"Yessss …" hissed America. "Suck me, England … oh yeah …"

"Mmm …"

"Oh, yes! Keep sucking!" he exclaimed. "SUCK ME LIKE A MCFLURRY!"

With that, England choked around America's cock. He spat America out. "Bloody hell! Don't say stupid shit whilst you're down my throat, idiot!"

"It's not stupid! I love McFlurrys!"

England rolled his eyes, but bowed his head again. This time he licked down. His tongue slid over the tip, lapping up a bit of pre-cum and drawing out another moan from America. Then he licked down the shaft, to the base. England had to place a hand on America's thigh to keep him from involuntarily thrusting up. He was trembling and twitching as England sucked one of his balls into his mouth.

America whimpered. A high-pitched, desperate sound. His fingers gripped tighter at England's hair. "Y-y-you're teabagging me?" he managed to ask.

"No tea jokes," said England, his voice muffled because it was full of American ball.

It took a lot of willpower, but America resisted. Which was a shame, because he could think of a ton.

England let America's ball flop from his mouth. America whined, but the whine turned into another moan when England quickly sucked the other one in. He rolled it in his mouth, sucking, hollowing out his cheeks again.

"Yesss," America whimpered. "Just like a McFlurry …"

England ignored that.

Instead he gave the ball one last good suck, then let it fall from his mouth. He went lower, panting hot breath over America's skin, even hotter than the grease left behind from all those fries. Then his tongue returned. And had America still been gripping those sesame seeds, they would have been ripped off right at that moment.

"OH FUCK!" yelped America. He squirmed hard. "England, shit …"

England smirked as he circled his tongue around America's entrance.

"W-wait," said America. He leaned over to grab something. England was sitting in confusion, America's ass still right in his face, as America hurriedly threw the top off his McFlurry. He scooped the creamy dessert into his palm. Then he reached down, rubbing it in between his fingers.

"… what the hell are you doing?"

"Just give it a try!" said America. He pushed two McFlurry-slathered fingers inside himself. He grunted before continuing, "It-it'll be fun! And taste better for you, haha."

"You just had to work that McDonald's in there somewhere, didn't you?" sighed England.

America pulled his fingers away, scooped up more McFlurry, and reentered himself. "Mmyep!" he replied brightly.

England sighed again. But he couldn't argue about the part about the taste, so he didn't bother trying.

America pulled away his fingers. He wiped them on some McDonald's napkins. "Go for it!"

England lowered his head again. His tongue returned. As soon as it touched skin, America was squirming again. England licked slowly, languidly. He enjoyed teasing America. He drew it out, trying to force out more moans from America. England wanted to hear him scream. To plead for more. To beg for England's cock.

"Oh man, England," whimpered America. "That feels so good …"

England finished one particularly slow, teasing lick. "Nnyeah?" he slurred.

"Eat the McFlurry out of me," America panted. "Oh God, that would be so hot …"

England sighed with his tongue still against America's entrance. Well, at least it was a shake. America could have shoved a hamburger up there and made England eat it out. England would have had to refuse that one.

… well, probably.

England's tongue poked at America's entrance. America tensed up in anticipation, but England pushed in anyway. Then … he sucked.

"OH GOD!" shouted America, now trembling. "I taste like McFlurry and everything is beautiful and nothing hurts!"

America did taste like McFlurry. And England would never admit it, but McFlurrys actually tasted pretty good. So he sucked eagerly at America's hole. He sucked every drop of the sweet, fattening dessert out of America. And America moaned and thrashed, yelling England's name just like he'd wanted ...

Then America suddenly panicked. "Whoa, whoa!" he said suddenly, sitting up. "Stop!"

England pulled his head away just a couple inches. A thread of spit and McFlurry connected his tongue to America's ass for a few seconds before snapping. "What's wrong?"

"Almost came, haha," America said with a nervous laugh. "You're a little too good at that."

England sat up. "You never could last long," he said slyly. "Not sure if you're premature or if I really am that good."

"You're good!" America reached and tugged at England's shirt. "Now come on! Get these clothes off!"

England chuckled as he swatted away America's hands. "Patience, dear." England shrugged off his shirt then threw it across the room, as far away from any McDonald's food (including America's boxers with the fries in them) as he could. It was soon joined by his pants.

"Where is your lube?" asked England as he began rolling down his boxers.

America was distracted for a moment watching England strip. "Uh." He blinked hard. "I don't got any."

England gave him a suspicious look as he tossed the boxers aside. "And why is that?"

America looked away sheepishly. "… I thought we could use something creative, maybe?"

England deadpanned. "From McDonald's?"

"… yes."

"The hell!" exclaimed England. "Like what? Ketchup? Mustard? Do you want it to burn? !"

"Well, what about the McFlurry?"

"That's cold!"

"Oh riiiight …" America looked deep in thought. "Shrinkage and all that."

"Well," began England, easing America back onto the sesame seed covers. "I left a lot of spit inside you. Hopefully it will be sufficient."

America lay back on the Hamburger Bed. "Yeah, I can take it."

England climbed on top of America. He looked down into America's eyes as he straddled over him. "Let me know if it hurts, all right?"

America nodded. "Okay!"

England slid in two fingers. Just to make sure America was slick enough. "Yes, it's rather wet in here." England spread the two fingers, just a little. Just to make sure America was stretched enough.

America gasped at the sudden pressure. "Y-yeah …"

England withdrew his hand. "Very well then. I'm going to put it in now."

The Hamburger Bed creaked as England positioned himself. He lined himself up with America's entrance, and quicker than you can say 'McRib' he was inside him.

"Aahhh …" moaned America, making a face.

England was fully sheathed inside him, but didn't move. "Are you all right?" he asked, concerned. "Is that a good grimace or a bad grimace?"

"Hehe …" snickered America, with a dopey grin on his face. "… Grimace is Ronald McDonald's big purple friend …"

England stared down at him. "... I'm going to go with good."

With America still wearing that dopey grin, England started a steady rhythm. Hard, deliberate thrusts that filled America completely with each one. England pinned America down, slamming their hips together, drawing out gasps from America.

America was squeezing his eyes tightly shut. "Shittttttt … this was that hot beef injection I needed so bad …"

There was a momentarily break in England's steady rhythm. "Please don't speak, love," he panted. "Your dirty talk leaves a lot to be desired."

"But this feels so goooood …" America squirmed, rooting around his hips as England thrust into them. He knew where that spot was inside of him, and if he could just position himself just right as England thrust into him … "AAH!" he yelped.

England smirked. "Is that where you like it?" he asked tauntingly. He stopped moving.

Which drew America crazy. "Y-yes! Keep going!"

But England remained frozen. Still inches deep inside America, but unmoving. "First tell me you want it."


England looked down at him slyly. "Go on."

America tried desperately to shove his hips up for more friction. "Englaaaand … come onnnn …" he whined.

"Tell me what you want … how much you desire it … beg for it …"

"I want your Supersized cock!" America blurted out without thinking. "SUPERSIZE ME!"

How could England forget so quickly how terrible America was at dirty talk?

"Meh, good enough," he shrugged. England resumed thrusting. This time directly into that spot America had been angling himself toward.

America shuddered hard. "Oh y-yeeeeah," he keened as he trembled. "Right there …"

England struck him over and over in that spot. Direct hits, every last one of them. After being struck directly in the prostate several times in a row, America was reduced to a quivering mess. Arching his back off the mattress. Shaking and moaning. His muscles like Jello or the pink slime McDonald's uses in their beef.

"YES! YES!" he screamed. "I'M LOVIN' IT! GOD YES! I'M LOVIN' IT!"

England didn't waver in his pace but he did narrow his eyes. "Wait, did you just—"

"Ba da da da da da …" sung America.

"… please don't quote McDonald's slogans whilst I'm pounding you into the mattress."

"A HAMBURGER mattress!" America beamed back.

If America wasn't going to shut up, England was going to have to make him. By fucking him so hard that America would be rendered speechless.

Well, that was his plan anyway. But as soon as England quickened his pace – rough, fast, deeply penetrating thrusts – America only became louder.

"YESSSSSSSS!" he screamed, happily holding onto the sesame seed covers for the ride.

"You never …" began England, panting heavily as his balls slapped hard against America's ass, "shut up, do you?"


"Could you try?"

"Maybe." America rolled his head over. Into the pickle pillow. As England continued to repeatedly slam him into the patty-shaped mattress, he used it to muffle his screams. "MMM MMM MMM!" he moaned into the pillow.

"Of course you use a pillow shaped like a pickle …" sighed England. But he didn't care too much. Because he was pretty close to orgasm.

America bit down hard into the pickle pillow. If only it actually tasted like a real pickle, he thought. He liked pickles. "MMMPH, MMM!" he groaned, teeth clenched in the fabric.

"Fuck …" swore England. His thrusts became shallower and uneven. He only lasted a couple more before he came, releasing it all inside America. He jerked as the last of it emptied from him, then collapsed.

On America. And he could easily feel America's still very hard erection poking into his stomach.

"Hey!" griped America. "Finish meeee!"

England heaved himself up. He gripped America's cock and began pumping. Fast, frenzied strokes.

"How close are you?"

America's back came off the mattress. He arched in pleasure, whimpering, "P-pretty close …"

"Heh … I can tell."

America arched even higher. An almost impossible angle. The feeling was just too much. The pressure was mounting, the pleasure building, he could feel himself about to burst …

"Damn," said England, his eyebrows raising as he watched America cum. "Didn't think you'd do that."

America suddenly stopped arching, and flopped back on the bed. In a satisfied state of a post-orgasm haze. "Hmm?" he said, his eyelids fluttering shut. "Do what?"

"Um. Look."

America opened his eyes. England was between his legs, hand pulling away from a softening cock. It was a little sticky. There was a little bit of cum on it. But just a little.

The rest had gotten on the Hamburger Bed. A nice long stain beside him.

"OH CRAP!" exclaimed America. "I came all over my Hamburger Bed!"

England covered his mouth with his other hand to conceal his chuckles. "So you did."

"Oh no!" he cried. "I didn't pay 25,000 dollars to jizz-stain it! How the heck am I gonna get this out? ! Does semen come out in the wash? ! It does, right? ! Please say it does! Because I do not wanna have to take this down to the cleaner's and explain what happened because they'll laugh at me and and and—"

"Shhhh," hushed England. He lay back down, pulling America close so that they were spooning. "Shut up, love. You can worry about that later."

"But but but –"

"It's okay." England's voice was strangely calming. "Just lie with me for a while."

"Um …" America hesitated. But then sighed. "Okay then …"

They lay like that for some time. England holding America tightly to his chest, their fingers laced together, erratic breathing gradually calming.

And then, England heard the crinkle of a paper bag. He opened his eyes.

"Want one?" America held up a fry. "Bottom of the bag fries. They're the best! Just when you think you're done, you check the bag, and aww yeah. Jackpot."

England's eyes closed again. "No thanks."

"Suit yourself." He ate the last of the fries. Then he sighed contently, also letting his eyes close. "I think next time we'll eat Arby's on the Hamburger Bed. After all, you know what they say – IT'S GOOD FOOD MOOD! Haha, get it? GOOD MOOD? As in –oof—"

A tomato pillow hit him in the face. "I think not," said England, not even opening his eyes. "Next time it's MY turn to pick what we do – and I choose to ball-gag you during sex so that I don't have to listen to your dreadful dirty talk."

"Ooh, what if you ball-gagged me while you covered me in Polynesian sauce and licked it off?"

England sighed. He had a feeling this was just the beginning of some very creative (and messy) (Hamburger) bedroom adventures …

(The end!)