China had taken little time to fall under the spell of England's cider.

Every few months, they met up, they drank, and whatever happened next, didn't.

England had cellars full of cider; But by contrast, no company.

"I would say that you are right, however you seem to be enjoying it," England smiled.

"There's nothing wrong with this drinking is there? Sure I cop hell in the morning. But the rest of me begs for more!" China mused, looking up to the ceiling, as he swigged another mouthful of England's finest cider.

They sat on the bed, backs to the wall. England was decanting every bottle into a glass tumbler, which he held awkwardly in his right hand. China, was merely removing the caps before consuming this tasty but bitter liquid.

"Do you think," China grumbled. "That you will ever run out of cider?"

"Bloody hope not. What will you do then?" England whined.

China slid down the wall, licked the last drops from his bottle, and propelled it off the edge of the bed. The audible ring of the glass bottle signalled the need for another round.

"I don't know," China yawned, as he fell into England's lap.

"I'll give you all the cider you want, and much more besides," England promised. "All I want is a lock of your beautiful hair!"

China's hair was tied in a ponytail. The dark-but-golden brown was particularly radiant at this time of the afternoon.

"But it's mine, my lovely hair!" In protest, China attempted to grab hold of his ponytail, twisting and turning in the attempt.

England grabbed hold first, and gently stroked it. In the light, it appeared as one luscious thread.

Instantly, China relaxed, and smiled.

"That's better, just breathe," England smiled, and slid down as well.

China sighed, and curled up. He felt, relaxed, and excited. Giggling, China rolled over to face England.

The golden locks of hair sparkled in the light, and the deep green eyes were obscured behind England's perfect blond hair.

"I see you, don't worry, just relax," England said, soothingly.

China let a slow out, making a contented purring noise. Closing his eyes for a moment, all he felt was warmth. There was no pain. Just an inner warmth that made him squeal inside, as if he had just seen a cute kitty.

With open eyes, China stared dreamily at England. The perfect hair hung just above the collar of England's light blue shirt. At the start of the day it had been as clean and crisp as ever. Now there were stains, half the buttons undone, and most of England's lean torso stood on view.

China's eyes tracked down the slightly pale torso, to his leather belt, and his midnight black jeans.

"You're drunk," England sighed.

China grinned ferociously. Then closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

Still breathing deep, China opened his eyes, and set his gaze on England's fly.

China snuggled in closer, and pulled the fly open. The smell was not pretty, but he didn't mind.

"What are you doing?" England asked, with an expression of knowing mischief.

China, partially paralysed by the feeling of England stroking his hair, tried to shift slightly.

Failing this, he tugged at England's buckle, still breathing deep.

England understood, but hesitated. Was he using China, and for what?
He had cider, China could provide company. What seems wrong with that?
England glanced down, at the submissive China, teasing in his lap. It was so tempting.

He glanced sideways, the sun was beginning to set. What was this all saying?

England went for his belt, deftly removing it by the buckle. England then used the opposite end to gently slap China's skinny bottom.
This made China breathe faster.

"I guess you're ready," China moaned. In one smooth motion, he rolled over and removed his trousers. Rolling back onto England, he bit his shirt, and raised an eyebrow.

England smiled, and leaned forward. With his mouth he ripped the red shirt off China's lanky frame, exposing an already sweaty body. England licked China's left nipple. The salty taste was tinged with a bitter hint of alcohol.

China was too excited to attempt the same manoeuvre with England's shirt. Instead England plunged three fingers into his shirt, and yanked it, sending buttons flying across the bed and onto the floor. With the shirt open, but not off, England resumed hold of China's hair. The suddenness of England's advance caused China to yelp in joy.

China could see that England was as hard as he was. His beautiful member perfectly outlined by his tight blue trunks.

England was starting to breathe deeply. Seeing China stare at his crown jewels, he uttered a single, sharp "YES!"

China groaned, and braving the smell, yanked England's trunks down. The sight of England's thick member, and the familiar pattern of his dirty blond pubes caused China to laugh unsteadily.

Both England and China grinned. They'd been here before, but each time was different.

China took the shaft in hand. England's pink head began leaking the viscous, clear liquid, which China coveted so much. China's heartbeat quickened as he licked it up, savouring the taste. England let out a low moan, which ran shivers down China's spine.

China took England's cock into his mouth; China caressed it with his tongue. England panted, with a mouth wide open. England could feel his load building up. It was building pressure.

England flinched as China withdrew, instead squeezing England's testicles.

The tables have turned. China has got England by the balls. It is a crazy thing.

Whether it was right or wrong was irrelevant. All that mattered was them, on that bed, in that room.

China started to squirm as England massaged his pony tail. It was getting rough.

England screamed "NOW!", and China reacted.

He spat on England's cock, and with both hands, proceeded to pump it as fast as possible.

England's every breath held a moan. Nothing matters in these moments. China moved a bit, and England let go of China's hair, placing his hands behind the back of his head and reclining slightly.

England roared, and shot his load high up into the air. It landed all over the bed, England, and China.
China let go as the last few drops exited England's body.

With England's moans reaching a diminuendo, China started to lick up England's load. The cocktail of Cum and Sweat both disgusting and exciting him.

Amidst this excitement, was the ringing of England's Phone.