She's So Heavy

We take a walk, the sun is shining down

A/N:

It's been a slog trying to get back into a rhythm. As always constructive criticism welcomed as I want to make this the best darn 'Hot Paul' book on Watty- hehe, no pressure -ugh!

So I lay my chapter before you. Offering it up to you, the 'goddesses' (and gods?)  of Watty to administer my medicine before I delete it all and start all over again!

Now, without further ado, onto your normal programing.

Previously on She's so Heavy.....

Beth was dropped in Johns lap and Paul was spinning wheels in the Lennon's gravel  driveway. Jackie's hoping her day is looking as fine as the boy beside her...

They zoomed away together, the car fled, racing toward the day. Toward the freedom she would be granted. The twenty-four hours of just being......

Of just being her.

She craved it like Christmas, all the wonderment and surprises, all the joy. The ability to look after no one but herself. Well herself and Paul. Thankfully he wasn't going to go grabbing her and lurching her about to see and be pleaded with, to buy...

The next magazine emblazing with Beatle people.

The next simply must listen to record.

The next bag of cavity creating lollies...

Yes, he wouldn't push and prod and pout and throw a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket for the never-ending next.... Everything!

Although she wouldn't mind Paul begging.

Kneeling on the ground, facing her, looking adoringly up at her....

Pleading.

Pleading for her touch, her skin, her lips.

Pleading for her to drive him insane.... Begging for release.

Oh.... how she needed release.

His hand cupped her knee.

Such an innocent touch, his thumb then rolling over her skin in a sensuous circle. Her heart beat flipped in anticipation. His thumb and warm fingers ducked and dived, caressed and stroked and her skin tingled. And that place.... That wonderful place between her thighs screamed for more.

Much more..

Yet he never moved higher, the good boy in him, holding his mettle. The good boy driving the car safely along country roads to an address unknown. She had no idea whatsoever where she was going and it was glorious. Very liberating in fact.

The good boy smiled over at her and she blushed. He was just so... Paul. Wonderful and handsome, full of pep and vigour and teasing flirty grins. He shifted the gears like a pro, racing through them up and down, hand leaving her knee with a squeeze and returning with warmth and a light touch like it was coming home.

Corners rounded and delightful pretty steams crossed.

The countryside was sublime, like an artist had created the picture just for her. Blue skies, lambs and ewes grazing, long horned stout cattle munching the cud, some stood, some lazily settled on the ground.

A horse busted out into a clearing and raced alongside the car.

Head high, tail flying, ears pricked and forward- happy, proud. Pounding the ever so green grass under its hooves eating up the field til it reached the end... Stone pitched fences rearing in the animal's way to a freedom it yearned, and the horse could but only slide to a stop, twirl and buck, and look beyond. Beyond, to more fields of green and rolling hills that curled this way and that.