Paul picked up where he left off once he was back in the studio. He had been pondering ideas for lyrics while answering the question: how did he feel about saying goodbye to the endless cycle of nameless tits and cunt? Well he felt wonderful! Loving Linda was joy itself. His youthful, lighthearted dance song would be just the thing to say it.
Paul pulled out his acoustic guitar and started working through the song. As he was considering how to express his ideas in the form of lyrics, he drew up a fantasy scene in his head. Linda and Paul, seated at a table on a stage in front of a room full of reporters peppering them with questions.
He pictured himself answering their questions, smiling in his good natured way, then gazing over at Linda. He imagined watching the tension on her face, her jaw ever so slightly tight. She appeared bored outwardly but Paul knew her well enough to sense her discomfort in the situation.
He knew a way to help her relax. Oh yes, he could change her mood!
Given his fame, the idea of public sex wasn't much of a turn on for Paul. He already had enough attention on him day to day and plenty of strangers lusting after him. That was a drag at times, when it was unwanted. He was happy with initiating a certain level of naughtiness in public though. He felt at ease communicating his sexuality and subtly letting people know where his line of thought was heading. He'd feel himself naturally chatting up an interviewer at times and that only made him more excited.
He imagined secretly letting Linda know what he wanted to do to her the second they were alone again. Maybe he would stroke her arm suggestively or run his finger over his lip. Aha, better yet: Linda would say a code word to him, agreed upon beforehand, that secretly meant, "Oh God, I want you so bad. I need you, baby. Take me, Paul!"
Paul laughed and knew he'd hit on just the type of playful, sexual idea he wanted to write. Now what secret word to use? His mind went first to good, solid, British words. Porridge. Bog. Pudding. What was a word that could be taken as sexual, but not in every sense? Lots of great choices there, many of which Paul had shown appreciation in his previous songwriting.
Press. That would work. Paul enjoyed the connection to the media too, seeing as his idea about setting the press straight had unwittingly helped inspire the song's concept. Playing with word meanings like this always reminded Paul fondly of John. They'd mess about with lyrics together all the time in the studio, sometimes annoying George with their antics when they'd ruin a perfectly good take for the sake of a joke. Paul missed that soaring feeling when he had made John laugh.
Paul imagined Linda sitting next to him while a reporter asked her another question. He pictured her giving him the secret word, press, slipping it slyly into an answer about her photography. She'd say it and look over at him with a little flash of intent in her eyes.
He'd raise his eyebrows, coy. Although his expression was innocent, Paul would feel his body react to the call to action right away; his heartbeat speeding up and a wild, raw energy coursing through him. While he answered the next question, he would slide around in his chair a bit, both trying to make his growing erection less noticeable and give himself some stimulation.
He'd get hard for much less than this, easily and often. No surprise then, that his prick would quickly swell with a surge of heat as Linda made eye contact again. Before he had a chance to answer a few more questions, he'd already be leaking in his anticipation. His mind would start to feel slightly blurred with lust. Warmth would bloom across Paul's cheeks. Finally he would have waited long enough.
"Well it's time for us to get off- uh, we'll be off now," Paul would announce. "We'd like to thank all of the members of the press for coming." He would glance at Linda to see that she'd heard him drop their word as well. "We hope you'll be able to come to the show. We'll have a blast and we'll make sure to show you a good time!"

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An Obscure Lyric
RomancePaul McCartney is in his 40's in the mid 1980's. He doesn't miss his wild younger days, because life now is so much better. Why doesn't everyone see it that way? If he could tell the whole truth, he'd explain why he wouldn't go back to his old life...