Temporary Secretary

Part 45

12 June 1981

4:00pm Friday

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You wanted to fuck Paul.

Of course, you'd fucked Paul many times before.

But... you wanted to fuck him. Proper.

It really wasn't anything new.

Research done out of pure curiosity, going all the way back to 1795, the Marquis de Sade described such an act in his book: La Philosophie Dans le Boudoir. (But beyond that... what an interesting fellow he was!)

Furthermore, the novel Naked Lunch, written by William S. Burroughs in 1959, also described such a thing. In fact, the device used, was none other than the Steely Dan iii, the namesake of the music group! You'd always thought it was one of the member's names or something of the sort.

Unfortunately, you weren't able to get ahold of the Steely Dan iii, but you did attempt to find something not so phallic.

Most things of the more taboo nature had to be ordered through the post, to be delivered to you. Regularly, products and the numbers to call were available through dirty magazines, a whole process to acquire something of the sort.

But it would take quite long for it to come through the mail. You didn't often order parcels this way, and were afraid you would mess it up somehow. Besides, you didn't trust the post service much. What if it was lost? What if the parcel was... conspicuous?

Instead, you tried your luck at a physical store. Maybe it wouldn't be out on the floor, but perhaps in the back...

Despite it all, your face felt flustered and heated the whole time through. For the cashier, though, it seemed like the most routine thing in the world. Understandable, considering. It was all in a day's work for him.

But asking for such a thing... except the off chance it was a gag gift (but why would anyone go through the trouble for that?) he knew what it was used for, and your intention. Whether for a man... or as you'd come aware of, another woman.

But you'd gotten ahold of it, and it wasn't too pricey either.

In addition to the device, you'd also found some proper lubrication. Vaseline did the job, but it was labeled external use only.

Even if McCartney changed his mind, as he was free to do at any time, lubrication wouldn't hurt to have on hand. Whether for him, or for you, to make things easier.

Strawberry flavor. Hm.

...

Paul had asked for it again that night, albeit sheepishly.

Always bashful when asking, but not so much as he felt the pleasure.

Not every night since the first time, but always welcome. After all, you weren't a pair who did no foreplay vanilla intercourse night after night, year upon year. You hadn't even started out that way either.

Where was the fun in that? You couldn't imagine. Sexual boredom, it was a horrible thing.

It wasn't uncommon to tease and build up for when you finally did properly fuck. This was simply another enjoyable act.

You very much enjoyed it. Toying with Paul was a pleasure of it's own, just as sucking him off and such was. You'd get it in return in due time. A pretty thing like him needed to be worked up properly.

Feeling Paul's tight heat around your fingers, finding and stroking that spot inside of him as he squirmed and cried out, his pretty legs drawing upward. He reacted so wonderfully to this sensation.