𝐏𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐄𝐒 -beatles imagines, preferences

Shes got the devil in her asssss (George smut)

Era- 1978
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"Maggie, wake up love, it's 10 in the morning," A groggy voice spoke from above me.

George's long arms were snaked around my still exhausted body. His large hands were toying with my rather small ones. The aroma encompassing us was sedative and placid. His perm was skimming against my cheek.

I shifted my weight on his body, deriving a deep chuckle from him. With the fresh position, I could see his face better. The newly awoken sun radiating on his impassive character.

"You look so handsome in the morning," I laud, caressing his tepid cheek with the back of my hand. The edges of his bristly mustache graze against my rounded fingers. My touch created shivers, and little goosebumps. His eyelids were becoming heavy with the ataractic impression.

"I think yer talking about yourself love," He leans down a tad to place a peck on my forehead. His lips were still tinted with a hue of red, from the past evening of wonders.

"Are ye still sore from yesterday?" He asks, out of the blue strangely. The mouth I love, curls into a tiny smirk, with his orbs widening whilst his pupils dilate.

"Why?" I reply, walking my fingers to his curls, gyrating the bouncing chocolate strands.

"Oh, because, if yer not, you'll be sore," He snickers, creating a sturdier grasp on my waist. He  casts me below his body weight, as he already has begun to knead my breasts.

The rough hands work  supple wonders, with every graze across my chest, with every feel that intoxicates my mind throwing me into a dazed state. He made me sees stars in the sky, letting me twirl in circles while my feet only would float higher into the never ending heavens.

The galvanized titillation poured me into a state of requiescence and yearning. All for him, it's always been for him. I knew with moments and times like this, with him showing his stored warmth in such beautifully crafted intimate ways.

Our room was filled with the subdued grunts and groans that would glide through his lips, meshing a harmony, brought along with the melody of my placid whimpers and moans.

I could feel him perfectly, amidst his grasp on my arms, his pulsating veins rocking into me. He was sending me into an illusory state of paradise. A surreal paradise that is, with sweltering suns and prolific streams of water, cascading down a lush hill. My body flowed with his feel, his warmth, even his passion.

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There I was again, cradled in his arms, clasping my irked body almost like his life depended  on it.

This was the George Harrison I fell in love with. The one I would blow off my friends for, sneak out with, kiss in illuminating moonlights with. Where we shouldn't have been creating romance, in the grasses behind stadiums or beaches. I can remember the drowsy, steaming sand nourishing our rolling bodies.

My heart swelled with emotions of joy and pure goodness, with the thought floating around in my whirling mind.

I was glad he was back.

I just hope he was here to stay.

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This is a snippet from one of my stories, I actually am somewhat happy with the way it turned out so yeah. I hope this doesn't make me seem lazy lol.