"You know, I do think truly and faithfully that every week should be Marriage Protection Week." George stood up, took a swig from the bottle, wiped his face in the crook of his arm and then handed the champagne to Tony.

As the Prime Minister took the bottle, he crossed his legs, his brown eyes melted almost worshipfully at his American companion.

"Sssshtill," he stared hard at Blair, leaning over him far enough so that Tony could smell the alcohol on his breath. "I can't help thinkin' sometimes." He stopped, snatched the bottle again from the Prime Minister's grasp and swung it up to his lips.

Tony nervously eyed the smooth curves of the President's immaculately pressed slacks. When Bush didn't finish his sentence, he shifted in his chair. "You were saying, George?"

The bottle hit the wall behind him with a crash of broken glass. "That's MISTER PRESIDENT to you, asshole!" Bush jabbed his finger at Blair and suddenly the Prime Minister of England found his legs forced apart by the President's knee.

"Yes, Mister President," Tony shrank from the thick alcohol fumes that accompanied the President's words, even as he felt himself getting excited by the proximity of the man.

As he stared into the beady eyes of his companion, inches away, he half hoped that the President would feel his erection against his knee. Domination like this was entirely new to Tony. He licked his lips. He'd met with the President many times before, but never had Bush done anything like this...

Bush half-grunted and brought his mouth a mere tantalizing two inches from Blair's. "We're planning to invade Iraq," he whispered heavily, pushing Blair back further against the chair with both of his palms. One hand slid down the sitting man's abdomen, causing Tony to moan almost in pain, turning his head to the side and closing his eyes. He felt hot breath against his neck and the President's fingers clumsily groping down, kneading the Prime Minister's balls through his trousers.

"W-we?" Blair gasped.

"And you're going to help us," Bush growled. "Support us."

Blair froze. "But that... that's ridiculous! George!" The President was unbuttoning the Englishman's trousers now, sliding his hand inside his pants. "...George..." He felt the President's grip tighten around his erection.

"Say you will." Bush began pumping with his hand, and Tony moaned again, louder. "Promise you'll help us kill all these bastards, these terrishts."

"I..."

"Make the Middle East safe for democracy."

Blair's eyes flickered open in confusion, and he saw George's face twisted into a mocking leer.

"And some of the oil will be yours as well," whispered Bush, moving his hand faster. The friction was unbearable.

"My...ah... England will be... ahh... furious..."

"You've always been a pussy, Blair," said Bush coldly.

"No..."

"All pussies, the goddamn English."

"George..." he moaned.

"MISTER PRESIDENT!"

At that moment, Tony lost complete control and came into the President's hand.

Bush moved away abruptly, getting a cloth handkerchief from the desk and wiping his fingers on it. Tony, spent and still panting, swallowed and looked down at his unzipped trousers. He reached down and zipped them, then raised his eyes to see that George was undoing his own trousers.

"You will call me when you decide, then," said Bush. It was phrased as a question but of course it was an order.

"Of course, George." The Prime Minister stood up, looking around the Oval Office and straightening his suit coat.

"Good." The President pulled his erect cock out of his fly. "Now get down and suck, bitch."

Tony had no option but to obey.

When they emerged at last from the office, Dick Cheney greeted them, holding a folder in his hands. Another young man stepped forward.

"Excuse me, Prime Minister, but the limousine is waiting to take you to the landing strip," he said with a British accent.

"Ah, excellent," said Blair, and turned to offer the two Americans a parting handshake. His eyes met President Bush's and lingered briefly before he turned to leave.

Watching him walk down the hallway, Cheney smiled. "The debriefing went well, then?"

"Yep," said Bush. "I sure wish Jacquie was that easy to crack."

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