Temporary Secretary

Part 44

:) it's finally time for McCartney to get penetrated. Been long enough.

5 June 1981

8:00pm Friday

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The sun had set a couple hours ago.

It was warm in the evenings now.

Paul had only a few more papers to look over before work tomorrow morning. Lots of little tasks to do in his line of work. It came with the job description.

He had been coming home earlier nowadays. Simple things like this, he could finish up easily at home, not needing to stay back.

Needless to say, your presence wouldn't be a distraction. After all, for nearly half a year, you had been around during such tasks. A help more than a hindrance! Paul did well with company, putting him more at ease.

Even if it paid well... working in law... the sheer number of tasks... you would never be able to swing that. You should know, you used to organize it all for him.

The lights were dim in the bedroom. Only the nightstand lamp lit.

He looked very lovely that evening, as always.

It cast a warm glow over his pretty features.

Pretty lips. He had them parted in focus. Heart shaped.

Soft cheek, sleepy eyes focused downward. Arched eyebrows.

Small breath, audible, but relaxed.

The silence of the room added to that. There was no tension, only a mellow energy.

His eyes shifted from the paper a moment to look down at you.

"S't nice?"

He somewhat slurred his words, but nonchalant.

You looked back up at him.

The duvet was pressing into your left forearm quite a bit. You were leant on it, pressing into the plush material.

His erection was in your right hand, nice and heavy, pretty and damp.

The relative warmth of the room, combined with the condensation, your damp breath, was making you flush somewhat.

He smelled nice. His arousal, Even in such early stages.

A lovely, lustful scent.

You liked having his legs on either side of you, parted to accommodate you settled there.

You'd gotten him hard, but very slow.

He'd been the one to initiate...

You very much suspected he got a thrill out of this.

You'd settled down beside him at first, considerate of his focus, no intention to disrupt it.

It had been him. A sidelong glance or two.

Actually... you weren't really sure how he'd done it.

But he'd coaxed you closer, slowly, but then you were leant on his side.

Without a word, he somehow enticed you closer, you cupped him through his trousers, each little sound from him an encouragement. All the while, his gaze seldom left the paper.