Beatles smuts and fluffs;)

Doo-Wop and Mimicry (Paul)

February 1957-

I frantically opened the brown package I had recieved in the mail. My face lit up as I saw what I had been expecting.  It was a new record, an album. I rolled it back in the brown paper. Kissing my mum goodbye,  I ran out the door and got onto my bike.

I peddled as fast as I could, the record tucked under my arm. I halted in front of my boyfriend, Paul's house. I knocked on the door. I shifted my weight as I waited for him to open. I knew his dad wasn't going to be home until tonight, so Paul was going to answer.

The door clicked, and my smile grew as it swung open a bit to a disheveled and tired Paul. He blinked at me, and rubbed his face with a tired grin.
"Y/N, love,its early. And its Saturday. I need me beauty sleep." He gestured to his face in a circular motion.
"You're fine," I rolled my eyes dramatically, "
I want to show you what I got!" I shimmied excitedly. He looked somewhat curious as he saw the brown package under my arm.

I leaned in to give him a peck on the lips, to which he complied, and he stepped aside and let me in. I immediately went to his record player.
"Well, what's that you've got?" He questioned,  peering over my shoulder. His hands went to my waist as I prepared the needle
"Its a new Chuck Berry album!"
Paul's face lit up with joy and shock,
"How did you get it?" He whispered, exasperated.
"My cousin lives in America, remember? She sends me the records they have there."  I cheered.
"You're lucky. Ye dont find that much here, just a fuck ton of skiffle and jazz,"

I popped the record in and let it play. A fun rhythm blasted out of the speaker. I stepped back, and jumped in excitement. Paul looked back at me, a smile on his round face.
I reached for his hands and took them into my own. He began to sway back and forth rhythmically. We rocked to the sound. He spun me around and I laughed as he pulled me close to him, and released me again. We danced like small children as the song played.

The song ended, and we plopped down onto the sofa, laughing hysterically. I leaned onto him, giggling. He reached onto the table beside him and grabbed his box of cigarettes. He placed his other arm around me.
He placed one between his lips, and gestured to ask if I wanted one. I took it and put it in between my own. Lighting his own first, he puffed first before lighting mine. I did the same, and sighed as the smoke left my mouth and nose.

Looking into the middle distance,  he asked flatly,
"Ever notice how all these songs use the same four chords?"

I cocked my head at his question. I hadn't really noticed, but he was right.
"It sounds good, though."
He nodded in agreement, a small grin on his plump lips. He took the cig between his fingers and breathed out,  flicking the ashes onto a tray.
"I have a couple Coca-cola's,  if you want one?"
I nodded, with a small thank you. He got up and went into the kitchen.
"You're lucky, too. My father said these were for special occasions. And this seems pretty special to me,"
He yelled in from the kitchen. I smiled to myself as I flicked the ashes. Walked in with two opened bottles between his fingers and his cigarette in the other. He handed me one, and I took a sip.

When he sat down, he swiveled his body around so his legs rested on the armrest and his head was in my lap. He took a swig of his Cola, and I did as well.
    His lips went into a satisfied, toothy grin as my hands ran through his soft brown hair. I looked down at him, and he had a look of adoration plastered on his face. He put out his cigarette in the ashtray. I had already done this a few moments before.

His warm hand raised to cup my cheek. Raising himself, he planted a soft, lovely kiss on my lips. I breathed in deeply as his lips connected with mine. He released, and rested his head back into my thighs, closing his eyes. He hummed as he snuggled into them, making me laugh.

His legs swayed from side to side as the upbeat music played in the background, and he raised an arm to hang over his head. I gazed as his eyebrows raised, then lowered. His mouth formed a cheeky grin. I felt his hand rub slow sensual circles on my side, just above my knee.
I hummed as I closed my eyes. His fingers soothed me greatly. My own hand had found itself on his abdomen, mimicking his actions.
  My eyes then flashed open when I felt his hand run under the hem of my dress. I looked at him, and he opened one eye, giving me a devilish smile. His fingers continued to run up and down my leg, and my heart sped a thousand miles per hour.

"James Paul McCartney,  what do you think you're doing, you silly boy?" I giggled.
He opened both of his eyes to let out a sly chuckle. His hand was making wider circles,  massaging and rubbing the top of my thigh.
I retracted my hand from his leg, and he did the same.
"What do you think you're doing, Y/N L/N? You naughty girl," he laughed, with a wink.
I gasped jokingly.
"I'm not doing anything right now, Mr. McCartney. "

His eyes widened at this new nickname.

I looked up when I heard the record stop. I tapped his shoulder,  motioning  for him to get up.
"Time for side two," I said with a fake smile. I made sure to sway my hips a bit more, looking back to see him staring at my ass. I winked at him as I flipped it over. Just when I was about to place the needle, I feel arms wrap around my waist, and a breath on my neck,
"Actually,  Y/N, I think it's time for something else." Paul purred.

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Alright this is the second one I've done that isnt about dancing with Paul. Sorry, it's one of my favorite fantasies. Thanks for reading!!
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