Give Me Love

17

Wow two updates in a week! You're welcome IrishBagels I will except cash and checks to 123 you're a whore for George Harrison Street. Also- they have great works on George and the other beatles!

And of course, before I go through with this sinful chapter, an om shanti to George. I miss George everyday and I think of him often.

! Very dominant smut

I smile shyly, standing up shakily. George pulls up his trousers and kisses me softly, pulling my waist to him and deepening our kiss. We stand there and make out tenderly for what feels like forever, content to be in each other's arms again.

Eventually, I break away and make eye contact with his deep brown eyes, staring at me with want in his eyes. "I have missed you, George. I thought about you everyday."

He casts his eyes away. "Why didn't you try and contact me?"

"I thought you made it clear that whatever was between us was over." I say, a little angry, wondering why he's asking me this. "You left me in your guest bedroom after you ended the affair. I didn't want to contact you because you obviously didn't want me anymore."

George raises his eyebrows, mouth falling open slightly. "I bloody confessed my love to you and you didn't think I wanted you?" I don't respond. "You told me that it was over because I- because I slept with someone else. I didn't want this to end."

I shake my head slightly. "You're right. I'm sorry." He looks at me again, eyes emotional. "Let's not fight, okay? We don't want to fight with you right after I gave you a blowjob, huh?" He finally cracks a small smile, so I grab his hand with one of mine. "I love you too, George, and we can still be together."

"I agree, Lotte." He kisses me again. "And let's get out of this grotty toilet."

We left the toilet with flushed faces and messed up hair, so we agreed it would be smart if we split up during the party to avoid suspicion. The rest of the night went by quickly as I was drawn into conversation again with Paul McCartney. Everywhere I went that night I seemed to run into him, but I wasn't complaining.

He was a fine looking man, and even better- he wasn't married. His wife, Linda, died two years ago due to breast cancer and as far as I know he had not found another girlfriend since. Granted, if I was married to my soulmate for fifteen years, I wouldn't rebound immediately either.

Paul and I had quite a bit in common, and I enjoyed talking to him, especially as the star-struck effect he had wore away. But by the time it was near midnight, he had become a bit too friendly- hand on my hip, touching my face and hand, staring at me with sparkling eyes- but I couldn't say I didn't like it.

What I didn't like was the occasional moments where I'd see George glowering at the two of us. Something told me this would turn out to be another Tom Petty situation. But it was the most embarrassing when George decided to interrupt my conversation with Paul.

"Paul! How lovely to see you again." George swooped in, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. He smelled of whiskey, and I tensed up. Drunk George was not the greatest at censoring himself.

"George! I was looking for you but it seems you were held up with other people. You're looking fine." Paul says with a smile, clapping George on the shoulder.

"Yes... I was held up by this fine young lady by the toilets- or perhaps I should say in the toliets," George chuckles, and I blush red. Why the hell would he phrase it like that? I take a small step away from George and towards Paul. "She is an old student." And that... that definitely made it worse. Paul's eyebrows are raised in confusion.